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luveline · 9 months

Note

What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are

thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k

"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks.

You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back."

Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion.

You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you.

That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.

The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much.

"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline

"What?"

Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails."

You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye.

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks.

"What?"

Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?"

He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand.

Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur.

"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans."

"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better."

"You'd like that, Munson," you tease.

"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night."

There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer.

He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning.

"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?"

"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt.

He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach.

You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud."

"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.

He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern.

You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64.

"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask.

"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no."

"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–"

"I don't hate yellow."

"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt."

Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line.

"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy."

"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you."

"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly.

Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails."

"You do?" you ask.

"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this."

You laugh, startled. "That's me?"

"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?"

"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?"

Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby."

You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret.

He smiles at you now like you know the secret too.

"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common."

You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another.

Plus, he worships you?

You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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witheringwidgetwrites · 9 months

Text

MC has a secret admirer!

Request goes; They're already dating but it's new so most of the lesser demons don't know about it. MC then starts getting love letters from an anonymous person and the Dateables/Brothers get the need to show off that MC is theirs?

I'm gonna do the brothers first! Hope that's cool! If yall wanna see more pls request it! (Also pretend that this is near the beginning of yalls relationship)

INTRO

"Wow, look babe, I got a love letter! Guess I'm more popular than I thought, you might have some competition." You chuckle, kissing his cheek. It was a very flattering letter, laying out all your strengths, compliments sprinkled generously throughout the writing. It was... surprising to say the least. But you were excited to tell him about it!

LUCIFER

If he's already on edge, he might just yank it and rip it in half. Today, however, he's in a good mood.

"Let me read it." You hand him the paper, watching him closely as he grimaces and scoffs. He's not nervous, but he is baffled that someone had the nerve to send you such a... bold letter.

A little prideful, in the sense that he has something that no one else can. He know's you wont leave him for some lower demon, but he can't help but feel slightly threatened.

Walks a litter closer to you around town and RAD. He'll hold your hand when the hallways start to filter out and there's less students around.

Puts in the effort to take you on more public dates, Restorante Six, most likely. kissing your hand and giving you roses at the table. He's not flashy, but it's enough for rumors to spread quickly.

MAMMON

He rips it from your hand, immediately turning his back so he can read it. "Is this the kinda lame sappy stuff you're into? Even I'd do better than this! It don't even mention ya eyes!"

He hands it back to you, mumbling something about, "i'll show 'em" before he stomps off, shaking his head.

He struts the RAD halls with his arm around you, glaring unnecessary at anyone who walks by. He's certainly on edge for the first couple days after. He starts passing you small silly notes during class, little drawings and pickup lines. You watch him as he turns away, hand trying to cover his flushed cheeks.

Also takes you out more. Carnivals, amusement parks, more casual things! Posts 1 post, with a few photos of you together, captioned 'almost as good as grimm.' If you get another letter, you might end up having your first kiss in front of the school!

LEVIATHAN

"Wha? Who?" He can feel his heart beating faster, anxiety rising in his chest. "Just kidding Levi, you're the only demon for me!" You giggle at him. "Could I read it?" You hand it to him, watching him plop down in his gaming chair. He gets very expressive while he reads. Before long, his tail is swishing behind him, "they don't even know you! There's no mention o-of any of your favorite videos games in here! You love games." He frowns, throwing his hands up dramatically. "I know Levi, I don't even know who sent it. Don't worry, they don't know me as well as you do." He pretends to lose control of his tail, that pulls you into him for a hug.

He sulks for a few days, but after some reassurance, he has a plan. You're going to the aquarium and he'll hold your hand! That'll really show 'em. Might even go to physical school a few days more than usual to walk with you.

He writes you a little in-game dialog sappy note, telling you a few things he loves about you. Might make a singular Devilgram post with you, hugging his Ruri-chan body pillow, captioned ''my #1 and my #2'

ASMODEUS

"Ohh! Of course you're popular MC! Everyone loves you, and me of course. We're the top power couple! Now let me take a look." He smiles at you, smile faltering slightly as he reads the letter. Eyes blinking a little stiffly, he hands it back to you. "That's so superficial, you're much better off with me." And with that, he walks away.

He shows the world exactly who's you are immediately. You're tagged in maybe 10 posts in a row. Pictures of you and him, some of just you, all captioned things like, 'my love' and 'my number one always' and 'remembering the moment I fell for you' and it's unmistakable.

Becomes even more affectionate in the RAD hallways, snuggling up to you, sitting in your lap/having you sit in his during lunch.

SATAN

He frowns, putting his hand out for the paper. He glances over it, brow furrowing as he reads. "This is amateur writing. You deserve much better." He hands it back to you, walking past you quickly with a scowl on this face. He turns back halfway down the hall, "be ready at 6:30." You decide to leave him be.

First order of business, he writes you a beautiful letter. It's long winded, many poetry references, and references to stories you've read together. Even compares you to a cat, somehow. He does not give it to you yet.

He dresses nice for your date, electing to take you to dinner, and then a stroll through the royal gardens. As you approach the doors to the House of Lamentation, he turns to you, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a wax sealed letter, your name written neatly on the other side.

Sits a little closer to you at lunch time, and in the library. Hoping someones will see and rumors will spread.

BEELZEBUB

He doesn't read the letter. He's a little jealous, but he thinks reading it will upset him, so he stays away.

He makes the small effort to hold your hand more. He's not normally one for PDA, but for you, he can make a small exception. You can see how flushed his face is when you look up at him.

On game days, he lets you wear his jersey until he needs it. Might post a picture on his Devilgram of you in it. Captioned, '#1 fan'

After one of his games, he sees you talking to a lower demon, they seem to be standing awfully close. He sees them throw their arm around you, and so he calls for you, pretending he didn't see them. He waves at you, jogging over and cupping your face with his hands before placing his lips on yours.

BELPHEGOR

He's half asleep when you tell him. Isn't really bothered until you make the comment about competition. Now he's awake, and looking around like there's a present threat. Yanks the letter from you, holding it close to his face while he scowls. He scans the paper, before rolling his eyes and rolling back over onto his side, taking the letter with him.

Pretends he's not bothered. Asmo brings it up at the dinner table, Belphie calls it a "stupid letter" and crosses his arms, slouching.

Doesn't bring it up again, but you notice he's a little more cuddly in public than he was before. One day after class, he finds you in the library studying, he saunters over, kissing you brashly, tongue tracing the edge of your bottom lip,and loudly, before wiping his lip with his thumb, and sitting next to you, "what're you studying today, MC?"

If you like my posts, please feel free to tip me here!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor #mammon x reader #lucifer x reader #asmodeus x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #belphegor x reader

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starry-bi-sky · 5 months

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I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

#dpxdc #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny phantom au #dpdc danny fenton #i am incapable of making short posts it seems. heavy sigh #this post is open to add ons if anyone's interested 👉👈#this entire au is essentially the song 'Strange Sight' by KT Turnstall from the Tinkerbell and the Neverbeast #This post mostly goes into how danny and damian's relationship develops because i think that's the more important part of the au #also damian's like six i firmly believe he wouldn't know much english #no no he's learning arabic first and then english LATER. if he would ever even get there with the league #iirc all the damian clones liked Danny so i wanna explore how their relationship got to that point. Like what happened for Danny to get eve #getting one Damian clone to like him enough to go up to bat for him? that takes time and patience and i wanna explore that lol #danny's in his late teens here btw.#Clone Damian is a 7yo child and I'm writing him as such because its fun. I thought about having Clone Damian change his name but nothing fi #little clone damian is also A Tad Clingy. Danny is the First Person to have shown him a kindness and Damian Imprinted On Him Like a Duck #i love clone aus and clone aus love me #clone damian and danny are bROOOTHEERSS #i thought about making clone damian's name damon bc its close to the name damian but also i like the idea that clone damian keeps the--#original name and then makes it his own. something about taking the name you were given thats not really yours and MAKING it yours

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satoruhour · 3 months

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nanami and geto=pulling hair

AHDJSKFMDKXJXUXU PLEASE I NEED THEM SO BAD IT HURTS

a/n: i dont write brat!reader often and i hate this but uhm .. :”) got inspiration for geto’s part from this fanart :3 also nanami’s inspiration here and here / tagging @jabamin @screampied @marimogf @redskyvenus @kizoken @osaemu @satorena @suguella @t4kio

wc: about 1.5k for each

warnings: hair pulling for both, fem!reader, brat!reader, geto is a lil rough, oral (m! receiving), deep-throating, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’ (geto), tension, semi-public sex, a lil ooc nanami ig, use of ‘slut’, unprotected p -> v sex, squirting, breeding / creampie kink (nanami), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GETO

geto’s grip around your waist only tightens when you press up more against him in the crowded business convention, purposefully grinding your ass into his front that’s already sporting a hard-on that looks like it hurts.

but suguru is a master at keeping his feelings in, like how this business partner of him is boring the shit out of him and how much he wants to push you to your knees in front of everyone and shove his cock in your mouth.

“don’t you wanna just do away with all this pretentious shit? spread me open and give a show to everyone in this boring ass convention?” you whisper against his skin with your head craned up just to see how his jaw tenses and he almost drops his flute of champagne, “hm? don’t you want everyone to know how good you make me feel?”

“behave, sweetheart.”

“no,” you giggle, and geto rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face. you know it’s all fun and games; he loves taming the brat in you, but the brat in you is just begging to be punished, “you know you love me.”

“that, i can vouch for, but making me hard in public? i’ll need you to tone it down, baby.”

“but i want you, don’t you want me?” you’re pulling out all the stops, now, tits in full view from how he was behind you just scouring the many businessmen and women walking about and making small talk. even now, your hips torture him in the best way, rolling slowly and bit by bit.

“you’re riding a thin line here.” he warns with a peck to your hair.

“i’d rather be riding your dick, sugu . .” it’s whispered so tenderly, so softly, your hands skilled when they close over his that rest comfortably on your waist. “in our hotel room, or on the balcony, please . .?”

all geto manages is a strained, polite smile to the approaching mr. mamato who seems a little puzzled at the rejection, but with reassurance from the former, all is well. your lover has no qualms about keeping a tight clasp around your intertwined fingers, champagne flutes abandoned and heels clacking quickly against the floor to the lift lobby.

and you cast your spell again, getting back on your brat shit once the elevator doors close since it was quite a ride to the floor of the hotel. geto sighs quietly when you trail your hand along his belt and down the zip where there was a noticeable bulge and you squeeze, relishing in the silent gasp he lets out. you both know that once he looks at you, you two would have to be pried from the elevator so he settles for deep breaths.

but it’s all sloppy, wet kisses once he’s got you pushed against your suite’s door, multitasking hands zipping open your dress and pulling your bra past your tits and revelling in your perk, erect nipples. a small jump is muttered from his lips and you follow easily, propped up so perfectly where his mouth fits just around your nipple and that draws a loud moan, hips grinding against his torso for any kind of friction.

geto is strong, with one hand holding you, the other lands a spank on your ass and he releases your tits with a pop!

“what makes you think you deserve that?” you’re on the balcony by now, the breathtaking view of the many other touristy attractions right next to the hotel but geto would rather look at your defeated expression, doe eyes, pout and all.

“i’ve been goo—”

your lover’s hand from behind goes up to pull hard on your hair, forcing you to look up at him and he smiles when he spots your thighs rubbing together.

“don’t lie to my face, baby,” he lowers you to your knees and each breath feels like it could kill you. you love every second of it — geto commanding you, the dark of his eyes and the parting of his lips, “we both know you’ve been trying to toy with me since the start of the convention.”

“i didn’t say when—” you grin.

“and don’t play smart with me, little slut.” a small moan leaves your mouth at that, eyes flicking between his eyes and his other hand skillfully unbuckling his pants and you let out a little squeal when his cock’s removed from his underwear. he’s always so big and heavy that it slaps against your face and you grin, immediately sticking out your tongue and he feels his chest swell with pride just a little at your obedience.

and he releases your hair, reaching behind for his cigs and lighter. the air fills with the familiar odour of nicotine, “suck.”

you do, planting your hands onto his thighs and making a big show of whatever you wanted to do, but you’re only suckling on his tip, smiling through the pre-cum that slips past your mouth. he’s quite lenient, letting you tap his tip on your tongue and stroking him with both hands alongside small groans, but it’s not what he wants.

“do you want to suck me off or not?” geto whispers, almost like a threat. cigarette in mouth, he grabs your jaw and it squishes your cheeks, “hm?” he gives you one last chance when you nod so adorably, mouth messy with pre and your saliva that he just wants to bend you over and fuck you dumb.

but when you go back to teasing him — tugging on his balls, keeping to sucking harshly on his tip (even if it feels so damn good), looking up through your eyelashes like you’re not doing anything is when he’s getting a better hold on your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail and scoffs.

you’re really in for a treat, now. there’s no warning before he pulls on your hair and brings you in again, smiling when he hears you gag at how deep his cock had reached in your throat. he coos inwardly when he sees that there’s already tears forming, but all you have on your face is a little sick grin and so he continues his assault.

geto pushes and pulls, leaving you no choice but to bob your head along his veiny shaft with very little time to breathe. it’s too intoxicating each time you’re up to the hilt, pubes smelling like sweat and Louis V cologne as you moan continually against him, sending vibrations up his body. you know his body like the back of your hand that you know every twitch of his dick, every jerk of his hips into your warm, inviting mouth.

“f-fuck . . maybe she does know how to use her mouth properly,” he mumbles, eyes fixated on your smudging eyeliner while your mouth is stretched out to accommodate him.

“su— mmfgf—!” suguru leaves you no time to breathe, guiding you roughly with your hair while he continues to smoke without a care in the world, not caring that the sounds of you choking on his fat cock could probably be heard by the neighbouring suite rooms. in a feat of defiance, again, you come off of him with a giggle, saliva strings connecting you and his dick, but he’s having none of that.

with one forceful thrust, geto shoves his cock into you, enjoying the corners of your eyes welling up with tears as you gargle and sputter, breathing hard through your nose. “i told you, do it properly. need ya to learn your lesson.”

you look truly pathetic like this, on the balcony floor of the hotel you were just in the function room for, but now you’re stuffed full of your boyfriend’s length, hands periodically squeezing his thighs. he grunts out your name, mixed in with little groans and pants of just how much your mouth resembled your pussy, drunk on the way his tip feels at the back of his throat.

“mmm . .” you hum, more used to the feeling now when you’re feeling him twitch and pulse in your mouth and you make sure to swirl your tongue, keeping eye contact with him.

“just— just like that, shit . .” suguru’s grasp on your head loosens with each step closing to his orgasm, putting out his cig just so he could focus on you and you only, “take it, take my cock down your throat like a filthy slut.”

geto’s shivering, hunched over your figure while you take the chance to move your head a little, slurping up all the saliva with hands squeezing over and over, sending your lover’s senses into overdrive. it doesn’t take long until he’s cumming down your throat with your head held to the base of his pelvis, heart clenching when he feels your muffled moans and then sees his overflowing cum.

“let me see . .” he asks absentmindedly, feeling just a little bad at the way you’re breathing so hardly, but he knows you don’t mind when you wrap a hand around his cock again, milking him for what he’s worth and sloppily sucking the mingling of saliva and cum from your skin. you’re quick to get back to sucking again, desperate for dick, and geto knows he’s found his perfect half.

✶ NANAMI

“these curses really need to stop emerging,” you frown with a groan, stuck in a never-ending meeting with yaga and nanami. in front of you were books littered with information about curses from the edwardian era, noting a similarity in both appearance and powers in the increasingly threatening curse that spawned in okinawa. so far, research has been scarce, providing for anything but the information you were looking for.

all the while, nanami’s looking at you through goggles, hiding behind the translucency of it as the open page of his tattered book is left abandoned only because he was so distracted by you.

you were stuck in a weird place with nanami — always getting stuck in precarious situations, mingling breaths, beating hearts to the point where you’d wanna throw up. you both knew relationships were a farce in the world of jujutsu sorcery, but even so, to deny the way you were the first one he’d check up on whenever you finished missions . . you might be falling off the deep end sooner or later.

“perhaps it would be wise to take a break, for lunch at least,” yaga only sighs, rubbing at his temples from his similar conquest, but none of you were actually able to match the photos to the drawings drawn up by sorcerers of the past. he takes the chance to leave the room for some food at the pantry, leaving just both you and nanami and the tension goes up by a hundredfold.

you don’t exactly hate it, but it becomes exceptionally clear when the universe seems to be against you from the first hour of research. from dropping your pen right in front of nanami that allowed a peek of your chest, to your printed photos flying right to the chair beside him, reaching over his whole body to retrieve them.

nanami is dying to smell you, again.

it’s loads of reading, glad for the knock of the door as you answer the call of the first-year students right outside the office, closed to a small gap since yaga asked you two to keep it confidential, but with the way you’re sticking out your ass . . he swears he can feel himself harden. before long, he’s hearing you bid goodbye to the three of them before your bracelet comes loose and it falls, and the sound of metal against wood is so loud that he’s glad he’s heard it.

because nanami’s attention is once again drawn to your plump ass, and he’s sure you’re doing this all on purpose with the way not one part of your legs are bent, and he can just see the peep of your panties. his skin burns.

“they wanted to know if they could help in any way,” you laugh when you return, albeit a little awkwardly after that whole thing you pulled. you weren’t even sure if nanami would look — he was a man set on ending work at 6pm and would want to do as much work before then, for god’s sake, so when all he does is nod curtly, you’re swallowing your feelings, not wanting to risk everything again.

once the clock strikes 6, nanami’s the first to stand, excusing himself with a bow, but not before he’s passing you a piece of paper folded carefully. so meticulously that he wanted you to open it without yaga seeing, pleasantly surprised when you see his graceful hand write out see me in the library.

you think nothing of it, taking the books that were from the library and making up some excuse of going to continue in there to yaga who waves you off with a grateful thanks, a yelp drawn from your throat when you see nanami just hovering beside the door frame.

he looks like he’s about the throw up — one look at his trousers tells you otherwise, breaking that barrier when you step closer to him courageously. “i don’t think we should waste any more time, dear (y/n).”

“what do you mean?” nanami has such a way with that voice of his, that you let him take the heavy books from your hand without any fight, without any resistance, gasping softly as he grabs your waist almost timidly. but you have been dancing around each other for too many months, and everything just felt right.

“you know what i mean, doll.”

every minute nanami spends with your body becomes more and more intense, first starting out with a soft and gentle question to rougher, sloppier kisses, and down to your body right to your cunt where he stroked himself whilst eating you out; and the way nanami fucks, god. he’d take his time but . .

“wanted this fuckin’ pussy for so long, f-fuck . .” nanami groans, body flush against yours while he pounds into you from behind. the library definitely is not soundproof, but after seeing your pretty panties and tasting your cunt, sinking his fat cock into your hole was just perfect and god forbid he held back on the first time.

“k—kento . . please—!” the tatami mats of the school’s library were looking like crap, no doubt from the lack of use of this place, but you use it to your heart’s content, soaking the mats with your mixed juices and sweat. but that meant you had no anchor to hang on to, grasping and scratching at the floor for anything when nanami angles his hips and sucks hickeys into your neck from behind. “love it, wan’ more, wan’ more—”

“yeah? pretty little slut wants more?” nanami’s head spins at the way your hips move back onto his as well, head turning and nodding just so you can look at the man who’s blowing your back out in his alma mater’s library, hair tousled and sweat lining his brow. “after teasing me these few months — s-shit — can i really give it to her?”

he speaks with a strain, hypnotising hands moving up and down your back and onto your ass, spreading it just so he could see the way you take him, pussy stretched and all. nanami lets out a shaky breath, not believing that whatever he’s always fantasised about is coming true, and right after this, he’s sure to get you a bouquet of flowers and a decent day out, not before a morning after pill though.

“you’re so mean . . teasin’ me, showin’ me your panties,” he gives your ass a smack, groaning out loud at the recoil, “what makes you think ’m gonna give it t’you?”

all you had to do was look up at him with doe eyes, using a weak, flailing arm to grab out for him but failing and he finds it so goddamn cute that he smiles to himself and succumbs anyway, chuckling as he runs his hands down your back. although, they don’t stop there — they find your hair and he twines your locks around his fingers and pulls, prompting a loud whine from you.

“ken—!” your pornographic moans are downright obscene, together with the messy mix of your cum and his pre all around your core, it was truly disgustingly filthy, “f-fuuckk . . yes, r-right there!”

nanami all but follows your sounds, triggering your arch with such a strong pull on your hair that the pain translates into pleasure. with his knees, he nudges your legs to open even more and you cry out his name at how deep his throbbing cock reaches in you, gummy walls sucking him in and clenching around his length so harshly.

“pussy’s just so good to me, god,” he moans, feeling so hot in his work outfit that wasn’t even fully stripped down. his blue work shirt is soaked, as with his trousers, full of your cum that’s starting to form a white ring around the base of his shaft. he purposefully pulls on your hair to meet your lips, murmuring onto your skin, “’m close, baby.”

nanami’s thrusts are accurate, precise, hitting all the sweet spots in you relentlessly until you’re saying incoherent sentences, thighs already starting to shake until he starts rubbing at your clit. the sensations overwhelm you; the still strong tug of your hair, the pap! pap! pap! of his hips against your ass, the circles on your clit that matches the thrusts — and you’re cumming and squirting with a lax jaw and eyes that roll to the back of your skull.

“c-cumming, kento— ’m cummi—!” you babble, hips grinding back onto his for more even when you’re spraying juices all over, whole body convulsing from the climax, “s’good, s’good—”

just seeing you fall apart from his cock has him reaching his high, hips stuttering into your warm pussy to pump you full of his cum and he makes sure you catch every last drop, the hand tangled in your hair pushing right down on your head into the tatami mats.

nanami catches the ghost of a smile on your face before your body moves against his, again, using your own hands to spread your cheeks just to make sure he sees the cum he’s planted in you.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #getou smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami smut #geto suguru smut

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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months

Text

this was supposed to be a headcanon, just me explaining that I want to see their routines bleed into each others and it turned into 3k words. So, you can also read it on ao3 here. And here are the rings I was visualizing. I hope you enjoy it <3

One of the first nights he stays over, Eddie stands outside Steve's bathroom door and asks Steve what he's doing in there.

He got in before Eddie went to shower across the hall and Eddie's clean and changed into his borrowed PJs now, and Steve's still in there, and it sounds like he's banging pots and pans inside.

Steve laughs, but calls "Don't laugh,"

Eddie swears "I would never," as Steve opens the door, and when Steve comes out with his face covered in green goo, instead of laughing, Eddie gasps.

"What's that?" Eddies asks, his finger already drawing a line across Steve's cheek.

Before Steve can answer, Eddie puts the goo into his mouth.

Steve's eyes go wide as plates.

"Eddie!" he protests "You're not supposed to eat it! What if it's toxic?"

"Is it?" Eddie asks, licking his teeth, "tastes like cucumber. But like, way too clean,"

Steve chuckles, "It is made of cucumber, its a mask. Supposed to keep your skin nice." he explains, going back into his bathroom to cover the strip that Eddie scrubbed with more of the goo.

Eddie does not hesitate to follow after him. Hopping up on the ample counter to observe.

"Well, it's doing its job well, I think" Eddie points out.

Steve tries his best not to smile. "Thanks," he says "You're not freaked out by it?" he asks,

"I think it's cool" Eddie shrug,

Steve can't help his smile this time.

"Well this works out well because I have to keep it on for 10 minutes and this way i won't get bored." Steve offers, "What were you saying about Stevie Nicks before?"

Eddie talks his ear off while Steve tidies up the containers in his counter.

Once it's time to wash the mask off, Eddie watches him, then, he dutifully washes his own hands so he can poke a finger at one of Steve's cheeks.

He says it's cool to the touch and really soft. He approves.

Steve feels butterflies fluttering inside his chest.

☀♡☀♡

After that, it becomes a habit, Eddie goes and showers and changes and when he's ready for bed he comes keep Steve company, knocks twice for Steve to open the door and once he does he walks in and takes his place up on the counter.

A few months after they get together, Steve notices Eddie staring during a lull in their conversation while Steve is going through his skin care.

He's done it before a few times in the past weeks, Steve figured he was maybe off on a train of thought but now he's curious. Eddie's got his head tilted to the side, his mouth is scrunched up like he's stopping himself from saying something and he's fiddling with his rings, and suddenly something clicks for Steve.

He's applying a mask with a little wooden applicator and he extends it towards Eddie, presents it in front of his big beautiful brown eyes.

"D'you wanna try?" he offers

Eddie's eyes twinkle. His mouth blooms into a smirk, his dimples showing up as he enthusiastically nods and cranes his neck forward, like the only possible option is for Steve to apply it for him.

Steve laughs quietly, stepping closer to him and placing a kiss to his cheek.

"Why didn't you say?" he asks, still kissing him, his lips moving against Eddie's cheeks and making him giggle.

"I don't know" Eddie says "What if you didn't wanna share it? You've said before, this stuff is personal"

Steve draws back and immediately goes back in to press kisses against Eddie's other cheek.

"Well, yeah, we have to get you your own stuff if you like it, but you can share mine for now, sunshine." another kiss. "I don't mind." and another kiss "I would love for you to share it actually" he presses one final kiss and draws back to admire his work: Eddie's smile as wide as it gets and Eddie's cheeks tinted with the softest, prettiest red.

"You have to teach me." Eddie demands "I know I've watched you do it since forever, but i don't think I can do it on my own" he adds.

Steve smiles, completely enamored "You've done it for me before. Several times" he points out

"Yeah, with you coaching me through it!" Eddie whines, "I'd mess it all up" he's so serious, Steve finds it incredibly endearing.

Steve chuckles and leans over to press a small kiss against the bridge of Eddie's nose. "Mmkay" he murmurs "we gotta wash your face first"

☀♡☀♡

Little by little, Eddie gets confident enough to do it himself. Once he understands what everything does and sees the effects it all has on his skin, he even picks and chooses the steps he wants to do each day.

Steve loves it so much he can't put it into words. And he loves that he doesn't have to do this alone anymore.

Even when they're apart Eddie calls while Steve goes through his routine, sometimes they do it together but over the phone. Even when Eddie doesn't feel like doing anything at all he still sits by him and they talk about everything and nothing. Steve never imagined something so simple could make him so happy.

☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡

For Eddie, it's even more simple but just as important.

The first time he catches Steve eyeing his rings is while he's being forced to listen to a Tears for Fears record.

Steve insists that they're good, Eddie's been staunchly refusing, but only because he likes seeing Steve get riled up. He gets bitchy and Eddie thinks he's the hottest person he's ever met.

Eddie's been trying to rile him up again as they lay on his bed and listen to the record, but Steve is not listening, his eyes are trained on Eddie's hands as he moves them around to explain his points. Once he figures it out, Eddie goes quiet for a bit, just moves a hand.

Steve's eyes follow it.

Eddie slides his skull ring off his hand and offers a waiting hand.

Steve's hazel eyes look at the ring, then at his waiting palm, then at Eddie. Eddie raises his eyebrows and smiles encouragingly and Steve finally places his hand in his.

Eddie slides the ring on and off three of Steve's fingers before he finds the right fit.

"There you go" he says, his voice quiet under the music. His throat dry from all the places they're touching.

Steve raises his hand above their heads, turns it around as he looks at the ring.

"I like it" Steve decides with a smile.

"You can keep it" Eddie says, without thinking.

Steve looks at him with wide beautiful eyes. "I- I don't" he stammers,

"Oh" Eddie says "I mean, you don't have to. It's okay" he tells him.

Steve shakes his head a little. "It's not-" he seems to have trouble finding the words.

"Give it here" Eddie supplies after a beat, offering up his waiting palm again.

Steve puckers his lips and slides the ring off his hand, places it on Eddie's waiting palm for him to slide it back on.

☀♡☀♡

After that, Eddie expects the looks will stop, maybe Steve just wanted to see what it was like to wear one, that's okay.

But, that same weekend, while they're smoking, lying on Eddie's bed this time, Steve is doing it again, his eyes focused on Eddie's fingers whenever they pass the blunt between them.

Eddie tries a different approach this time.

"Which one do you like?" he asks,

When Steve raises his eyebrows, Eddie raises both his hands above their heads, clicks his rings together.

"Which one do I like the most?" Steve asks,

Not what Eddie said, but-

"Sure" he shrugs, intrigued.

"Hmm" Steve hums, bringing his fingers up to trace Eddie's rings. Eddies tries his best to suppress his shiver.

Steve finally lands on a ring, one with a deep brown stone in it.

"This one." he states quietly.

Wordlessly, Eddie hooks his right pinky around Steve's left index finger and holds on while he twists their hands around to slide the ring off his finger and onto Steve's.

"It's pretty" Steve comments, slowly disentangling their hands.

Eddie hums an assent.

Steve moves his hand around. "Feels heavy." he notices.

Eddie turns his head to look at Steve's face. "Yeah," he confirms.

He waits until Steve looks back at him to offer.

"Do you want that one?" Eddie whispers.

Steve looks into both his eyes, one after the other and the handsomest smile blooms on his face, he nods.

"If I can have it." Steve whispers back.

Eddie clears his throat so his voice is not so hoarse "It's yours" he confirms with a smile of his own.

"Thanks, Eds. I'm gonna buy one for you to replace it" Steve promises, admiring his ring.

"You don't have to" Eddie tells him, "I'm giving it to you"

"I know. I want to" Steve says.

Steve holds their blunt to Eddie's lips again, says "Tell me about your song again" and once Eddie leans up and takes the blunt, Steve hooks their pinkies together.

Eddie tells him about the bridge he found and how he can't quite find an ending.

☀♡☀♡

A week or so later they share their first kiss. Huddled together under Steve's bed covers in the middle of the night.

In between that night and the first time they tug at each other's clothes, tucked inside Eddie's van in the early hours of the morning after a very intense Corroded Coffin gig, Steve continues taking Eddie's rings and wearing them for random stretches of time.

He calls Eddie "sunshine" and Eddie calls him "sweetheart". They cook for each other and then together, they watch movies, they talk after they have nightmares, well into the sunrise. They go for swims and they have picnics and they hold hands.

Eddie takes his rings off to go to the bathroom and often he'll come back to find one missing, or, not really missing, just on one of Steve's fingers. Steve usually gives it back by the end of their hangout or the next day they see each other.

Sometimes, Steve takes the rings right off Eddie's hand and Eddie lets him. Steve tries on each and every one, and keeps his favorite, rearranging the rest on Eddie's hands in some particular way, by size, or by color, or by "symbolism" he said once. Eddie adores him.

Those rings he usually gets back within the week.

Some other times, Steve will have a specific request, he even called Eddie once to ask if he could borrow a specific ring he thought would go well with the outfit he had planned for their date the next day. Eddie was delighted.

The first rings Eddie buys for Steve are an ordeal for him. He's so nervous, afraid that Steve won't like them, or that he won't want to have any of his own (even though he wears the one with the brown stone every day), or that he'll refuse to accept them.

He tells Steve that the girl that helped him said he could exchange them even for store credit if he didn't like them. Which, is a lie, but Eddie can make it happen if need be.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to, Steve loves them. Eddie chose one of intertwined metal bands, one with the phases of the moon around it and one that looks like arms are hugging Steve's finger. Steve especially likes that last one.

After that, Eddie takes Steve with him when he goes shopping for rings.

The first ring Steve buys for Eddie, the one that's supposed to "replace" the one with the brown stone, is a sun signet. Eddie maybe tears up a little bit.

It becomes such a part of them, that soon it's virtually impossible to say whose rings are in their bedside table.

Some mornings one of them is in charge of assigning the rings. Some others whoever gets to the side table first gets to choose his rings and leave the rest for the other. Regardless, Eddie loves to sit down and watch Steve pick out and put on his rings for the day. Taking time out of his day, every. single. morning. When he didn't wear rings before Eddie gifted him one. It makes Eddie want to cling to him and press kisses to his beautiful hair.

Some days, when it's Steve's turn to assign the rings he gets a little too into it. Organizing and reorganizing them in different ways, always in neat little rows until they're five minutes late and Eddie has to force himself to say "Stevie, we have to go" even though he could watch Steve organize things and mumble around the explanations for each method for days on end.

The real kicker though, is when Steve buys rings for Eddie that are more Steve's style. He buys rings for Eddie that he would like to wear himself. Because he knows eventually, he'll end up wearing Eddie's rings, no matter what. It's such a declaration of his intent to stick around that Eddie never quite knows what to say.

Steve also plays with his rings now, just as he plays with Eddie's, fiddles with them, removes them for cooking or cleaning, puts them in his pockets or in his glove compartment, they're a part of him as much as Eddie's rings are a part of Eddie, as much as Steve is a part of Eddie.

Eddie likes when their rings clink together when they hold hands, he loves feeling Steve's rings against his skin, in the small of his back or up his sides beneath his shirt. And he absolutely adores stealing Steve's rings too, slipping them off his fingers and into his own, feeling the residual warmth form where Steve's been going about his day with this piece of metal in his hand, Eddie can think of nothing better.

☀♡☀♡

"Eds have you seen my ring?" Steve asks him one night, coming into the kitchen where Eddie's making them pancakes for dinner.

"You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific, big boy" Eddie answers, flipping a pancake.

"No, Eddie" Steve presses, the panic in his tone finally registering and Eddie immediately turns to look at him.

His hair is a mess, like he's been pulling on it, even though he was in the middle of his shower when Eddie left him to come make dinner.

"Oh," Eddie says, finally understanding he means the ring with the brown stone. "I don't have it baby, where did you see it last?" Eddie asks, turning off the stove.

"I left it in the bedside table!" Steve explains, clearly frustrated "it's not there anymore, and it's not on the drawers or on the bed or in the floor or behind the door. I don't know where it is." he finishes, tears forming in his eyes.

Eddie hates seeing him so stressed, he walks up to him and runs his hand up and down his arms.

"We'll find it sweetheart, it's okay. Did you check under the dresser?" Eddie asks.

There was a dresser in their house when they bought it, inside their bedroom. Apparently, the previous owner did not want to deal with the trouble of getting it out and as it turned out, neither did Steve and Eddie. It was a beautiful vintage piece of furniture and it was heavy as a motherfucker.

"Oh. I didn't?" Steve says, "How would it get all the way there?"

The dresser is placed across their bed, so in the wall opposite their bedside tables.

"It seems crazy, but it's happened with a couple of mine" Eddie tells him, "I'm telling you, this place is on a slant" he says, already grabbing Steve and tugging him towards their bedroom.

"Fuck, I hope it's there" he mumbles.

"It will be," Eddie assures him

"What if it went down the drain?" Steve anxiously asks,

"You almost never leave your rings in the bathroom, handsome"

"But what if I did?" Steve insists,

"Then I will go down to the sewers to get it for you" Eddie tells him as they enter their bedroom.

Steve goes to get on the floor but Eddie brings their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss there, says "Here, I'll look" and gets on his hands and knees in front of their dresser.

Sure enough, there's a small shadow at the very back, the object nearly touching the wall. Eddie comes up to tell Steve and bangs his head against one of the dresser handles.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaims, rubbing Eddie's head for him, "Is it there?" he asks.

Eddie scrunches his eyes shut against the pain and gives Steve a thumbs up, "Mmhm, I think so," he confirms, "You have a ruler on your desk," he tells Steve

Without needing another word Steve goes and gets it for him.

When Eddie finally fishes the ring out, Steve grabs it and clutches it to his chest

"Ohmygod. Thank you" he says, leaning his head against the dresser.

Eddie gets up off the floor and drags him to stand in front of him as Eddie sits in their bed.

Steve takes a couple of moments to breathe deeply, letting go of the last dregs of his panic. Eddie clings to Steve's waist and noses his shirt up to kiss the scarred skin on his side.

Steve finally chuckles softly, bunches his fingers up at the top of Eddie's head.

"Does it hurt too much?" he asks, rubbing at Eddie's head again.

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve switches to petting his hair and softly laughs "God, I almost got a heart attack"

Eddie chuckles, leaning his chin on Steve's stomach to look up at him.

"I love you" he reminds him.

Steve traces his dimples, says "I love you", then grabs one of Eddie's hands from his waist and slides the ring on his hand.

"It's your job to take care of it now. When I'm not wearing it" Steve tells him.

"I will." Eddie promises.

Inevitably, Steve ends up taking care of Eddie's sun signet whenever he's not wearing it, just in case.

The longest they wear those rings for the other is a few months, between getting engaged and exchanging them again at their wedding ceremony.

#i might write their first kiss from this later on. for now- i hope you love this. i sure do! even if its a little all over the place :3 #steddie #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #steveddie #stranger things #.

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nerdpoe · 8 months

Text

Jason goes to beat the crap out of the newest Robin, but...that's a baby. And that's a baby. And that's a baby...oh look, another baby.

All of Young Justice got turned into babies, and Jason just walked in on the immediate aftereffect.

Now he's surrounded by a bunch of babies.

He may be enough of a jackass to beat up a 15 year old, but he draws the line at hurting literal babies.

Needless to say, when Dick arrives completely and fully ready to commit murder because of Robin's emergency beacon going off, he wasn't expecting the Big Bad Red Hood to be juggling four babies.

Or to have two of them shoved into his arms along with a shopping list for baby food and diapers.

"...I wanna hold Robin, though-"

"Get the fuck out, Golden Boy, and go get the goods."

#batman au #tim drake #conner kent #kon-el #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #dick grayson #jason todd #story prompt #babies babies eveyrwhere au #robin au #titans tower au #dick was fully ready to do a murder but then was ambushed by cute tiny baby faces

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xanaxcoded · 4 months

Text

nsfw

clingy!sejanus plinth who calls you several times a day when he's away from you.

being the face of the plinth name, it was busy. he hated being away on a work trip more than anything, not being able to see you, hear you,

...touch you.

in all honestly, sejanus was clingy. more than he'd like to admit. when he was with you, he couldn't keep his hands off. his large hands were always on you, fingers curling around your waist, palm slotted between your thighs innocently, he just couldn't keep his hands to himself.

so now, being all alone for, what, five days now? who could blame him for getting a little desperate?

he speaks into the phone with a low murmur, chit-chatting about your day, just small talk, the usual.

and he could hear the weariness in your voice, the sleep ebbing from your words. he would give anything to be there, to put you to sleep.

"um, so... you miss me?" he asks sheepishly, shifting on the satin sheets of whatever fancy hotel he was staying at this time. it was a stupid question, sure, and maybe sejanus already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from you.

"of course i miss you, baby. i've been all lonely, wish you'd just come home already." you're quick to answer, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

and it was true. with nobody to entertain you, it had gotten lonesome. you would find yourself slipping a shy hand into your shorts while thinking about sejanus shamefully a lot more often now.

"mmm. that's what i like to hear." he replies, his lazy smile audible through the line. he could practically hear your exhaustion, and his mind had already began to wander.

you, laid out on your shared king sized bed, wearing nothing but... maybe a t-shirt and underwear? that's what you usually wore to bed, yeah.

the boy feels his cheeks heat up and a jolt of warmth run down his spine when he lets himself fantasize. maybe you'd lay on your stomach, goosebumps pricking at the exposed skin of your thighs.

...fuuuck. sejanus can feel the blood rush to his groin, bringing a hand over his eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth to suppress the groan that threatens to escape.

"you're lonely, yeah?" he confirms, licking his dry lips that are desperately missing yours. "i wish i was there with you, honey. wanna touch you so bad, make you scream my name."

the line goes quiet for a while as you process those words, lips pursed as you can feel a familiar heat rush to your cunt.

he chuckles at your lack of response, knowing you well enough to guess that you'd be flustered. anybody would, it's only natural!

"...yeah. yeah, i want that too." you quietly respond, biting at the inside of your cheek. "i really want that."

"yeah? how bad, baby? c'mon,"

sejanus bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood, his hand traveling down from his neck, down his chest, fingers slipping past the elastic of his boxers.

"so bad. i miss you so bad. you have to come soon, sej, i need you—" you find yourself pleading, burying your face into the plush pillow.

"i know, i know angel. just— you can have me, over the phone, alright?"

that. that makes the slickness inbetween your thighs worsen, and you nod, a small sound escaping your throat in acknowledgment.

soon enough, sejanus finds himself teasing his half-chub, talking you through it over the staticy line.

"can you let me hear you, baby? please? just touch yourself, all nice and soft like you like it, okay?" he instructs, eyes fluttering closed as his mind paints a pretty picture.

"okay. okay,"

and you're quick to comply, hand slipping inside your lacy panties, fingers running over yourself.

a tired moan echoes through the line, and sejanus lets his jaw fall open, his fingers working slightly faster.

"miss you so much, pretty girl. wanna be there with you so bad. i'd fuck you so good, huh? you'd cry all pretty for me, wouldn't you?"

maybe it's the way he's practically cooing at you, talking to you like you're a small animal, but it makes something twist in your stomach. two fingers slip inside of you, and you let out a flushed whine, pressing the warm screen of the phone to your cheek, as if you'd be closer to sejanus that way.

"that's it. let me hear you, angel."

it takes all of sejanus' self-control to stop himself from bucking up into his hand, fucking himself into his fist like an animal—

but he doesn't. he wants to savor it, wants to drag it on for as long as he can. it would surely make up for all the lost time.

"need you, sej. please, please, i need you here,"

he hums in appreciation as he hears you gasp and moan, squeezing his eyes together and letting himself imagine just how you look right now.

his hand tightens around his cock, and a strained groan spills from his lips as his pace quickens just a little.

"juuust like that, baby. you sound so good. making yourself feel so good for me."

clingy!sejanus plinth who jerks off to your voice over the phone.

#lollll first post smut ?? k.#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #tbosas #sejrot #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut

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hungharrington · 5 months

Note

I want Stevie to make me a needy little mess kissing everywhere on my tummy and thighs while purposely avoiding where I need him most

now why would loverboy be such a tease to his favourite person? maybe if they had done something to deserve it…. this one goes out to @boyfriendstevie for indulging my goofy ideas <3 while it’s technically smut it’s like… only hot if u find love hot HAHA fem!reader MDNI this entire blog is 18+

The radio sings idly behind you, midway between the kitchen and the lounge, and when you hear the fridge door close, you think nothing of it.

The novel in your hands has your attention, your body lax as you lay spread lazily across the couch. Your shoes are off and your jean shorts unbuttoned, your bra abandoned many hours ago; a picture of a well-spent Sunday afternoon.

“Someone’s awfully comfortable.”

Steve’s voice sounds from above you and you pull your eyes from the page before you to look up. He’s standing behind the couch, arms crossed, his expression… unreadable.

“Mmhm.” You hum with a happy smile. Laid back, you raise one of your legs and give his arm a poke with your toe. “Wanna come join?”

Steve smiles lightly, rounding the couch til he’s at the end of it. His hairy thighs lean up against the arm of the couch and he hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, I was gonna eat.”

A dirty thought crosses your mind. You laugh and part your thighs just an inch, insinuating just exactly what he should eat.

“Oh?” You say.

Steve catches on quick. His eyebrows hike up and he rolls his eyes, his endeared smile giving him away.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He asks, even as he moves forward to kneel on the cushions— his hands finding a place around each of your ankles. Your tummy burns as you realise he might be serious.

“I wouldn’t complain,” you quip back with a cheeky smile. Steve’s hands on your ankles shift up, smoothing up your calves with such evident adoration it makes your blood sing.

“Wouldn’t complain, she says,” Steve echoes your words with a mock-contemplation, pretending to ponder as his thumbs rub softly at the skin of your thighs. “Anyone ever call you a princess?”

He asks while his hands keep travelling up, his fingers tucking into your unbuttoned denim. Your hips lift as he pulls, letting them slide down your legs and be discarded to the floor.

Steve’s got an intense look in his eyes now, his flicking between your face and your barely clothed core. You feel yourself grow more excited.

“Mhm,” You answer his question, your breath hitching as Steve’s hands land back on your knees— sliding them down your thighs and drawing a line with his thumb right along the sensitive inner parts. “My boyfriend, actually.”

“Your boyfriend, huh?”

He bends down between his words to kiss one of your knees. You sigh, the novel in your hands pushed to the ground and forgotten completely. You hear it land with a clutter. Steve’s huge hands are still moving, still massaging up and down your thighs— til they creep higher.

“Tell me about him, this boyfriend.” Steve muses, beginning to smile. His hands ruck your shirt higher and higher, the callouses on his hands the perfect friction against your nipples. He gives them a good pinch and you gasp, your back arching into his touch.

“Uh huh…” you start, entirely distracted by how his lips have started to trail kisses down your thighs. Just a few touches in the right place and he’s got you soaking the cotton of your panties. You might be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on.

“Well, he’s prob— probably the hottest guy in Hawkins.” Your voice skips as his mouth starts to reach the V of your thigh. His plush lips start to suckle, a dart of his tongue soothing over you as he sucks a hickey into the soft skin of your inner thigh.

His mouth pulls off abruptly. “Wait, probably?”

“Definitely.” You quickly amend. Steve melts into a smug grin, diving back down to continue his hickey as you let yourself sweet talk him. “Definitely 100% the hottest dude in town. Most attractive in the st—state, if you ask me.”

Steve hums against you appreciatively, switching his focus from one thigh to the other. You can feel your legs beginning to twitch, feel yourself clenching around nothing in pure anticipation. Steve nips and soothes at your thigh, his hands still roaming, still squeezing and pinching at your nipples enough to make you sigh sweetly.

When he finally moves from your thigh, it’s only a moment of relief before you realise he’s moving up to kiss at your tummy.

“Go on,” He urges you, eyes flashing up to meet yours with a grin. He knows you’ve caught onto his teasing now and despite how it makes your skin flutter, his kisses, the languid press of his mouth, all are just so so close to where you want him. But not close enough.

“He’s also,” You huff, all breathy now. You can feel how wet you are for him— can already envision how good it’ll feel when he gets his mouth on you. If he ever gets his mouth on you. “The biggest tease in the world.”

Steve pulls back from his motions with a pout. He’s still kneeling on the couch, your legs parted around him and at your words, his hands slide down to rest on your hipbones. His thumbs swatch up at down your panty line, teasing and tantalising. You squirm.

“Ughhhhh, why are you being a tease right now?” You ask, slumping back on the couch with a half a mind to stick your own hand down between your legs.

Steve’s hand gently touches your chin, pressing it lightly so you tilt your head forward to look him in the eye when he says, “Because you ate my pickle.”

You blink at him owlishly for a moment, his words throwing you for a loop. Then a laugh titters out your mouth and you cover it with your hand.

“Oh my god, I totally did.” You giggle, half at your lousy memory for stealing Steve’s final pickle from the him — and half because he’s actually petty enough to bring it back up during sex. “I’m so sorry.”

Steve tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Are you? I don’t think you are.”

You laugh again, head thrown back and then nod as best you can. “I am! I’m sorry I ate your pickle, baby.”

Steve’s faux-bitchiness melts away and he pouts for a moment. “You know, I was looking forward to that.”

He jabs your thigh playfully and you can’t help but laugh again. Steve stares at you unabashedly— something hot in his chest at this mixture of laughter and pleasure and a silly little bicker over a pickle.

“I can offer only one consolation,” you say, laughter now gone as you peer up at him through your lashes.

When you know you’ve got him hooked in, you nudge your thighs up and spread them a little further. You watch as Steve shivers, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

He shifts on his knees, one hand pressing into his shorts which have become tighter and tighter. When he gathers himself, there’s a new fire in his eyes — fixed on his next meal.

“Well, best get rid of these then, huh?” He murmurs, his fingers finally pinching at your panties and moving to tug them down your legs. You shuffle to let him, the heat pooling in your stomach as he tucks them into his back pocket without a second thought.

This time when his mouth kisses its way down your thigh, Steve can barely wait — skipping past his previous hickies to lick through your folds with eagerly. You gasp and moan, hips squirming up to meet his mouth and Steve takes it all gratefully — more than content to spend his Sunday afternoon with his tongue between your thighs.

#i’m really on my goofy shit recently huh #idk it’s hot to me! i love silly banter! i love eating on the couch! :D #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve smut #smut

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oozedninjas · 4 months

Text

"Adore you" is an understatement

Summary: Making out goes out of hand, and Raph takes your V card.

A/N: I've been asked a lot for 2007 Raph, pretty general things, so I made this small piece! Enjoy :)

18+I MDNI I 2007 verse I The reader is a virgin, Raphael isn't I both are 25 I established relationship I virginity loss

_________________

The roughness of his thumb grazes over your swollen lips, and you bite him. He hisses, grasping your chin to capture your mouth. His kiss offers another glimpse of how much he hungers for you.

With inhuman strength, Raphael brings you on top of him. He gropes your ass roughly, drawing a whimper from your lips. The heat builds in your belly as his hands trail up, lifting your dress in the process. His palms on your back make you shiver, You adjust over his thigh, surrendering to the instinct of grinding over it shamelessly, greedily. Raphael groans, his tail lining between his legs, throbbing, slowly exposing his hardening cock.

"Take it off," he says, short of breath, tugging your dress.

You comply, hardly noticing the swift movement in which he takes off your bra along with it, too busy admiring the glistening pre-cum sliding down his shaft. Slick pools between your tights.

You ditch your underwear, mouthwatering at the sight of his length, slightly curved, now all hard and wet for you. Raphael is about to nuzzle his face between your perfect breasts when you push him, forcing him to fall over the soft cushions of your bed as you strip the red bandana off his face.

He gazed up, stunned. “Doll?”

Raphael barely has time to speak. You place yourself on top of him, moaning at the soft, rosy skin of his shaft against your bare cunt, and you carefully jerk over it. Raphael growls, head falling back, jaw clenching. Fucking pretty. His hands fly to your hips, digging.

You build the pace as you need it: hot, fast, tight. You feel him reaching out, and you slow down enough for his finger to slide into your drenched hole. You gasp, eyebrows furrowing before picking up the moves again, balancing your weight, palms over his plastron as you kept fucking your clit over his slippery dick. You moaned unabashedly, enjoying how he matched his finger thrusts with your grinding. Blazed tingles run through your body, boiling.

Your face is so erotically hypnotizing. Fuck, you're not usually this worked up by fingering alone. Something's different. Raphael withdraws his hand, and you whine aching at the emptiness. The steady grasp on your hips refrains any movement.

“Hey, wait. Why are you-”

"I want to go further," you breathe, urgently.

He eyes you, unable to hide the fire stirred by your words.

"How further?"

Usually, he'd finger fuck you, biting and nibbling your tits until you climax, and you'd suck his dick in return. Other times you'd just gotten off by dry humping. However, you've never had anything close to penetrative sex, you weren’t ready yet, and he's always been too sweet about it. But just now, the thought of his cock pounding relentlessly inside you makes you quiver in the best ways. Right there, you know it.

"All the way."

"Are you sure?" he gasped.

"Yeah," you panted.

No sooner the words left your mouth, You begin lining him up with you, cunt clenching at the feeling of his firm, hot length on your hand.

"Whoa, wait," he blurts, "You'll hurt yourself."

“I can take you.”

Raphael chuckles, mouth closed. It rings deep and holds a tint of mischief that sounds sexy on him. He effortlessly rolled you down, now your back against the mattress, soft pillows under your head. You scarcely have time to react before he steals a fervent kiss. His tongue twirling with yours is fucking amazing.

"I know you can, but I don't wanna hurt my lovely doll," Raphael smirks at you, pushing your legs open to settle between. “Let me do it.”

“Please hurry,”

His smile widens, shooting a teasing glance your way as he pokes your entrance to insert his finger. It slides in smoothly, despite its thickness. He watches it disappear inside you, bewitched by the sight. After a couple of gentle thrusts, Raphael pushes in another finger, hurtfully slow. You squirm when he curves them at the right angle.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he manages under his breath.

Raphael works them up, in and out, for what it feels like forever. Just when you think he’ll torture you into pleading, he pulls away, not wasting a single second to line with you. The tip of his cock is somewhat triadic, rounder on the base, wide and it feels kind of gummy.

You gape as he enters you slowly, carefully. A loud, desperate moan rolls off his lips. You grip his shoulders, unawarely digging your nails. It isn't as painful, yet it still stings as it stretches you. Raphael grazes your forehead with his own as he bottoms out.

"Easy, if it’s too much we can stop," he reassures, his breath staggered.

You suddenly hate you're the only inexperienced one. It's embarrassing. “No, just a second, I just need- a second,” your voice trembles.

He processes your answer, urgently clinging to reason as your hot walls close around him, so tight, so right to fit him.

“R-Relax, take a deep breath,” Raphael instructs.

He sucks on your neck, licking a long stripe over your pulse line to the base of your jaw, slightly nibbling. Your eyes shut at the feeling, and a soft sigh glides from your lips.

"Hmn- I’m fine, go on."

“You sure?” He rocks himself softly, tentatively.

You clench around him. The delicious squeeze tears a groan off him, right against your neck.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Raphael lowers himself near. His plastron presses over your breasts. It feels fantastic over your nipples. You arch at the contact, aching for more.

His hooded eyes don't leave your face: gently warm cheeks and watery eyes. You look beautiful.

"Ah— I'll make this so good for you," he pants, picking up the pace, "I'll ruin you for anyone else," he continues, slurring his words as his mind burns alongside him.

You’d gladly let him, you want to say so, but you can't think. His perfectly curved dick kisses your sweet spot deliciously.

“Hmn— there! right there Raph, please!,”

You don’t even care for the desperate sound of your trembling voice or how your words seem to splice together. Raphael obliges. You spread your legs further, allowing the base of his plastron to work your clit along the way. Your rational thinking numbs as you chase the growing coil building in your core.

A deep, animalist growl falls from his throat as your nails digg to the top of his shell, your back arches, mind vanishing into some place where there's only room for ecstasy. You're loud as you come, you don't care.

Raphael’s pace grows sloppier as the pulsations of your warm cunt trigger his peak.

“Nnm— fuck,”

He pulls out abruptly. The emptiness hurts just for a few seconds before hot, sticky loads dampen your torso, splattering up to your chest.

He falls beside you, catching his breath. You linger in the after-bliss until his voice brings you back.

"I'll clean you up. Give me a sec," he asserts before motioning off your bed.

"Just use my dress," you say, tiredly and zero percent willing to lay without him for a single solid second. "Let's take a shower in a few minutes."

He heeds. Once cleaned up, you snuggle into him, enjoying his welcoming embrace.

"Did it hurt too bad?" Raph questions.

"No, it was good,” you lengthen the word. It makes him smile. “I don't know why I waited this long to do it. Did you like it?"

Raph laughs lightly, incredulously. "Of course I did. Did you?"

"Fuck yeah,"

You both share an endearing giggle. He cups your cheek.

"Altho, I thought you would want your first time to be fancier."

"Fancier?" you repeat with a quirked brow.

He propelled himself over his elbow to have a better angle of your face. You allow the movement, reclining over the soft pillows as you look up at him.

"Yeah, you know, candles, roses, and stuff," he said, averting his gaze.

You laughed, whole-heartedly, gracing his cheeks with both hands.

"I only wanted to be with you. Nothing else matters."

He gave you the brightest of smiles, and it reached his eyes so beautifully that your heart almost stopped straight there.

"I fucking adore you, doll."

#tmnt smut #tmnt raphael #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2k7 #rapahel 2007 #tmnt x reader #tmnt rapahel x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2007 raph #tmnt 2007 x reader #raph 2007 x reader #tmnt

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nonranghaes · 8 months

Text

heads up! vernon performs fake surgery on med student!reader to cheer them up. he's just silly <3

"scalpel."

you have no idea what your boyfriend is doing. you've been slumped over the dinner table for the past who-knows-how-long because studying has turned your brain to mush (you're in med school, that's the medical term, you swear). vernon hums to himself, and then you can feel his index finger trailing down your back as he makes his own sound effects in the form of a steady beep... beep... beep... to simulate a heart monitor. his fingers trail across your back, as though searching for something, and the "beep"s turn a little more frantic.

"vernon, what are you--"

"patient's getting better," he says, and then immediately goes back to those faster 'beep--beep--beep's. "i think. heart rate is increasing. that's good right?"

you don't answer, burying your face in your arms again. you can't let him see you smile. he'll know whatever he's doing is working, and you kinda wanna see where he's going with this. he grabs a fistful of the back of your shirt, letting go as he draws his hand away, still making those beeps.

"the surgery is a success..." he says. "i've removed the heart... i've saved the patient."

you turn your face. "baby. you can't live without a heart. i think the patient's dead."

"nah," his hands rest on your shoulders, already kneading at them. "i stole your heart and you're still alive--"

immediately, you let out the loudest groan--although whether it's out of disgust for the cheesy line or amusement because he managed to entertain you, he can't be sure. he thinks its a mix of both, actually--but it doesn't matter. you're smiling now, and that's what he set out to do.

he leans over you, pressing a quick peck against your forehead. "food's here, by the way. gotta support my future doctor somehow."

(you don't have the heart to tell him that making you laugh is always enough... and not because he stole it.)

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen x reader #nonranghaes.svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #svt imagine #svt x you #chwe vernon fluff #chwe vernon x reader #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #chwe hansol fluff #chwe hansol x reader #yes i saw the video of him n the others doing their surgery pov thing again sdkfhsdfsf #they r so silly for that. him removing the heart is so stupidly funny to me like good job vernon... are you gonna... yknow...#replace it.... wheres the bypass machine thingy.... (<- not a med student)

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seiishindraws · 8 months

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I noticed when looking super close at your line art that the there's slight red green and blue on the sides of the lines like an old 80s anime and i think that's super cool! How do you do it?

oh, that's chromatic aberration! i guess you could say its a kind of colour/visual distortion.

it's pretty simple to do, but i usually just use a csp auto action to do it for me to make things go quicker, but i can teach you how to do it manually in most programs.

i'm going to use this silly doodle of me as pompompurin as an example lol

youre gonna wanna merge everything onto a single separate layer first and then we're gonna work with that merged layer. make two copies of that merged layer so you have three of them in total.

the top merged layer will be our red layer, so youre going to want to got to EDIT > Tonal Correction > Level Correction

the level correction graph will pop up. since the top layer will be our red one, select the green level and drag the rightmost arrow on the Output scale all the way to the leftmost side. do the same for the blue level.

the image should be red like this afterwards.

the middle layer is going to be our blue layer so do the same thing we did for the top layer except youre going to reduce the green and red levels instead, and the middle layer should be all blue like this.

for the bottom layer, it will be our green layer. same process as before, reduce the red and blue levels so its all green.

your layers should be looking like this now

from here, you want to set the layer modes of the red and blue layers to Screen, DON'T do the same for the bottom green layer though. you'll notice once you've done that, the image will look normal again!

from here, all you need to do is shift the red layer in one direction, and the blue layer in another, to as much of an extent you want. the further they are from each other, the more drastic the effect will be

and that's how you do it! my other personal tip would be to add a layer of noise set to Overlay or Soft Light at a lowered opacity over the drawing bc it goes well with the aberration, or even sharpen the image.

if you dont want to do all that hard work though and you happen to have clip studio paint, just use an auto action, like this one!:

https://assets.clip-studio.com/en-us/detail?id=1713222

anyway i hope that helps? ^^;;;

#art tips #clip studio paint #ask #tea-n-ink #tutorial #chromatic aberration

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

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Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

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