#pls look at his glitter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catcze · 7 months

Text

⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡

A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔

⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」

He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.

He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.

Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.

He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡

"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"

You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.

He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.

"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."

Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.

When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.

Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.

⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」

He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.

Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.

What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?

It's with you that he finally finds his answers.

"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"

Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.

You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.

"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."

"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."

"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"

"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.

Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.

⠀「 LYNEY 」

A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!

My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.

Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!

And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!

"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.

"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.

"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.

You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."

"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."

"Okay. Final answer?"

"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"

You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.

When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.

You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"

⠀「 KAVEH 」

For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.

When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.

If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.

For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.

"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."

"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.

You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.

When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.

"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.

"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.

You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.

"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.

"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.

⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」

With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.

He intercepts a lot of your attempts!

Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.

Good thing you always rise to challenges.

From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.

"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."

"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."

"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"

And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.

When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.

"Okay. Now close your eyes."

"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.

"Please?"

"Tell me why, first."

"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"

And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.

When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #Neuvillette x reader #Lyney x reader #Kaveh x reader #Alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Wriothesley #Neuvillette #Lyney #Kaveh #Alhaitham #genshin impact

4K notes · View notes

moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 2 months

Text

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

part 2

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy series

2K notes · View notes

devotion · 10 months

Text

there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

3K notes · View notes

bruisedboys · 1 year

Text

dead wrong — steve harrington x reader

summary: steve harrington is down horrendous for you, his best friend. his love is not as unrequited as he thinks.

contains: best friends to lovers, mutual pining (but mostly steve pining), steve’s pov, fluff galore, idiots in love, reader is good with the kids, reader is a skater like max, reader hurts her wrist and steve is a worried lovesick idiot. cw! descriptions of wounds/blood, mentions of hospital, reader wears steve’s clothes. she/her pronouns used.

a/n: first long fic yay!! I am extremely proud of this so pls love it 🤍

fem!reader 5.3k words

gif by @barneswayne

Steve Harrington is totally, most definitely, not in love with you. Just friends, he thinks, best friends. Best friends who hold hands and sit far too close together.

Speaking of, you push further into Steve’s side, your scent washing over him. Your hand squeezes Steve’s, and he thinks, never mind. Maybe he is in love with you. So in love with you it fucking hurts.

A chorus of shouts erupts around him. You and Steve are watching Eddie, Robin and the kids play beer bong, only without the beer. It’s soda. Dustin starts doing a stupid victory dance while half of his peers laugh and the others cringe. Steve cringes. You laugh. All high and lilting and adorable. Steve has to remind himself to breathe.

He brings your joint hands to rest on his knee. Your rings push into his skin, almost like harsh reminders that he can’t hold you like he wants to. He frowns.

“Steve?” Your voice brings Steve out of his thoughts like it always does. You give his hand a shake. “You okay?”

Steve looks up and prays you can’t see the hopeless devotion in his eyes. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, with your messy hair and your eyes lined with glitter. Rosy cheeks, glossy pink lips that he stares a beat too long at. He’s known you for years, and yet he’s never gonna get used to how gorgeous you are. He swallows, forces his eyes up to yours.

“I’m okay,” he says, though he’s really not. He never is, because you never won’t look like that. “Are you?”

There’s another explosion of noise from the soda-pong players, but you don’t seem to notice. You frown like you don’t believe him. He’s being too obvious, he knows.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you sure, Steve?” You stretch your free hand across your torso to touch his face. Steve heats like an oven under your hand as you press your palm to his forehead. “You’re not feeling sick, are you? You feel sort of hot.”

Steve grabs your wrist, harder than he means to. He loosens his grip guiltily when you give him an alarmed look.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, lowering your hand gently. He can feel your pulse, only just, underneath his fingers. It’s damn sure slower than his. “I— uh, no. I’m not feeling unwell. It is pretty hot in here though.”

A total lie. The only reason he’s burning up is you.

Your frown deepens, a push of your bottom lip that makes Steve want to kiss you. It’s such an overwhelming feeling that he has to blink multiple times to make it go away.

“Oh,” you say. You look around the room and then back at Steve. “Do you want to go outside?”

Steve has a bit of a dilemma. If he says yes, he’ll be alone with you. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. If he says no, he’ll have to stay in this stuffy room with yelling teenagers and ping pong balls flying at him every five seconds. He decides on the first option.

“Sure,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. Then, to make you laugh, “Smells like boy in here anyway.”

You giggle. Steve feels like copying Dustin’s lame victory dance.

“You’re a boy, Stevie,” you say teasingly.

He wrinkles his nose at you. “No, I know, but it’s like … adolescent boy.”

You laugh loud, your mouth pulled up in a staggering smile. “Oh, okay,” you say, as if anything he just said made any sense.

Steve is starstruck for a second before you’re pulling him up from his seat, your hand in his a familiar, heart-aching weight.

Steve finds himself sitting side by side with you on the hood of his car. He can’t exactly remember how he got here — on the way, all he could think about was your hand in his and the fact that your thumb kept brushing over his knuckles in very distinct lines. Whether you’d meant to or not, he doesn’t know. He hopes you did.

“Any better?” You ask quietly, stretching your pinky across the small gap between your hands to tap his.

Steve feels something like an electric shock where your skin touches his. It baffles him, how such a tiny touch can cause such a big reaction throughout his body. He stares at your hand when he answers.

“Much,” he says honestly. He looks up at you. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know. You can go back in if you want.”

Secretly he hopes you’ll stay here with him forever. But that would be selfish, and if Steve is anything when he’s with you, it’s not selfish.

“Eurgh, no.” You pull a disgusted sort of face that makes Steve grin. “I could barely stand it when you were there. Without you, I think I’d die from the smell alone.”

Steve laughs. Really laughs. The words without you, I think I’d die, float around his brain like fish in a fish tank. When he’s done laughing he catches your smile, all pretty and wide, and his heart does one of those funny backflips that he’s never gonna get used to.

Steve watches as you brace your hands on the edge of the car and push yourself up the hood, pulling your shoes up to rest on the metal. Your skirt is short enough that Steve can see half of your thighs, more when you shift yourself like that. He stares for two seconds too long and then feels so guilty he almost apologises.

Instead, he says, “Aren’t you cold?” He points at your skirt but doesn’t look.

You shrug. “No, not really.”

With a sigh you let yourself fall back against the hood of the car. Your skirt rises even more and a half inch more of your skin is exposed — Steve feels like the universe is out to get him. His only escape is to fall back next to you, his right shoulder brushing your left one. You smile when he does, head rolling to the side to look at him. Face to face now, Steve can feel every small breath coming from your parted lips.

“See any stars?” He blurts, because your face is much too close and he’s scared if you look at him like that any longer, he’ll kiss you stupid.

You look up at the dark, empty sky and wrinkle your nose. “No.”

“Wait, look, there’s one.” Steve lifts his arm to point at what he thinks is a star.

You squint in its direction. “That’s a plane.”

“What? No it’s— oh.” He trails off when he realises the ‘star’ is moving. It disappears behind a cloud a second later.

You laugh, breathless and pretty, and drop your head onto Steve’s shoulder. Your perfume fills the air around Steve and he has to stop himself from leaning closer. You bring a hand up to fiddle with your necklace, a cheap, plastic ‘S’ charm that sits directly on your sternum. The fake diamonds are falling off, half of them gone already, but you’ve refused to take it off after all these years. Steve has one of your initial, too. You got them from a dollar store when you were twelve and pinky promised to be best friends forever.

You slip your necklace safely beneath your top and then stifle a yawn behind your hand.

Steve gives your elbow a nudge. “Tired?”

You shrug one shoulder and then droop further into Steve’s side. Every point of contact between you burns.

“You’re tired,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

You make a noise that’s probably meant to be a sound of protest but comes out more like a tired moan. Steve chuckles lightly, reaches over and rubs your arm.

“Alright, sweet girl. Let’s go home.”

‘Home’ really means Steve’s house, because you’ve left your car there and because you’re over so much it’s become your second home. By the time Steve is pulling up the driveway, you’re so dead beat he doesn’t even consider letting you drive yourself home. You practically hang off his waist as he walks you both inside.

“M’tired,” you mumble as you pass the living room.

Steve has to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh, I can tell.”

You look up at him and squint like you know he’s laughing at you. Then you say, “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Steve’s heart skips. Sure, you’ve slept in his bed before, but every time you have Steve lay awake for at least half the night. He’s not above admitting that he’s watched you sleep more than once. He’s seconds away from telling you to take the guest bedroom when you pout dramatically.

“Please? You’re so warm.” You push into his side, your arm tightening around his waist like you don’t ever want to let go.

Steve hates himself for nodding, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, okay.”

He drags you up the stairs and into his room. Your makeup and stray jewellery is strewn across his dresser — you’d gotten ready at Steve’s before the party. If you could even call it that, Steve thinks. He plants you on his bed and you fall back immediately, eyes shut tight as your hair splays across the sheets.

“You’re like a zombie,” Steve says amusedly, his gaze all fond and mushy as he looks down at you. “From like, Day of the Dead or something.”

You pull a face, faux offended but your big grin gives you away. “Ew. I’m not that ugly, am I?”

Steve hums long and high like he’s thinking about it. This makes you gasp and throw a hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. Before Steve can get half a laugh out a pillow is hitting him straight across the face.

“Hey!” He exclaims, glaring at you. You’re still lying down, eyes screwed tight like you’re pretending you didn’t just brutally attack Steve. He laughs because you’re fucking adorable. “Zombies don’t throw pillows, Y/N.”

Your words are plagued by a yawn as you say, “This one does.”

Steve sighs at your antics, picks up your murder weapon (his pillow) and replaces it on the bed.

“Oh no,” you groan suddenly, like you’ve remembered something awful, hands flying to your face in despair. “My makeup, Stevie. M’too tired to take it off.”

Your words stick to each other like taffy in your tired state. Steve remembers the last time he let you sleep in your makeup. He didn’t hear the end of it for days. He’d rather avoid your wrath this time round.

Steve sighs, knowing full well he’s about to put his foot in it. “Well, will you let me do it?”

You open one eye blearily and look at him. “Would you?”

Steve shrugs, though the thought of being that close to you makes him feel nauseous. Luckily, you’ve closed both eyes again so he can blush all he wants. Plus, he’d do anything for you. Even endure the overwhelming urge to kiss you breathless.

“Sure thing, babe. I’ll get the stuff.”

Steve ends up sitting on his bed with you across from him, crossed legs pressing up against his. You’re sitting so close you’re almost in his lap. He ignores this for the sake of his dignity.

You’ve got your eyes shut and your hair up in a clip. A lock of hair has tumbled out of its knot and Steve pushes it away from your face, fingers hooking behind your ear and lingering. He keeps his hand on your jaw as he raises his other hand, a wet cloth ready to clean your sparkly makeup off.

“You sure about this?” He asks hesitantly. He’s dead terrified he’ll do something wrong, like get glitter in your eye.

You smile softly, your eyes staying firmly shut. “Yes, Steve, it’s fine.” Your tone is half reassuring and half exasperated.

Steve bites the bullet and goes right in, pressing the wet cloth to your cheekbones first. You’ve got blush and glitter there, sprinkled on your cheeks like fairy dust. He smooths the cloth along your skin and it comes away sparkly and pink.

“Okay?” He asks, pausing worriedly.

You nod slowly, your head starting to droop in his hand. “Yeah, Steve.”

Steve grins fondly at your face, screwed up in exhaustion. He tightens his grip on your jaw to keep your head steady, thumb hooked under your chin. Carefully, he begins to dab at your eyelids, also painted with silvery glittery eyeshadow.

Your face dewy and makeup-free, Steve thinks you’ve never looked prettier. So pretty it drives him mad. He stares, really stares, for far too long but he’s worried if he opens his mouth, breaks the silence, he’ll never get to see you like this again. Your hair all messy pretty, your eyes shut and eyelashes kissing, your pink lips turned in a half smile.

He’s not surprised when your soft voice drifts into his thoughts.

“You done?” You open your eyes, eyelids heavy and head heavier.

Steve snaps out of it. He lets go of your face quickly, slides off the bed even quicker.

“All done,” he says, almost tripping over his own feet.

You smile, seemingly oblivious to his clumsiness. Or maybe, it’s just happened so often that you’re not surprised. Either way, your smile is sickeningly sweet. Steve is torn between the desire to kiss you or run as far away as possible from you.

Your voice matches your honey-smile when you say, “Thank you, Stevie.”

You reach out to touch his forearm, your hand a heavy weight on his skin as you wrap your fingers around his arm and squeeze.

He grins lopsidedly, and he’s sure he looks like a lovesick idiot but he can’t find it in himself to care. “You’re welcome.”

You drop your hand and Steve’s arm suddenly feels cold as ice. He wants to touch you again but knows he shouldn’t. He strides to his bedroom door and pauses to turn and look at you.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says. Your eyelids are drooping again. He laughs fondly. “Get in bed while I’m gone, zombie-girl.”

Your giggle follows him all the way to the kitchen.

When Steve gets back, a glass of water in each hand, you’re still as a statue on your self-appointed side of the bed. You’ve swapped your outfit for a grey t-shirt that you totally stole from him but deny every time he asks about it, and the shortest shorts known to mankind.

He switches off the light and shuts the door with his heel. Pointedly avoiding looking at your bare legs, he rounds the bed and sets the water down, then bends over you.

“Y/N?” He whispers.

You hum softly, though Steve can’t tell if it’s a hum of acknowledgement or just a sound you’ve made in your sleep. He leans closer, listening to your breathing. You’re awake, only just.

He brushes his hand over your upper arm, touch as light as a feather. He thinks he feels goosebumps on your skin but doesn’t have time to wonder why. You’re lifting your chin slightly, lips parted.

“Goodnight, Stevie,” you whisper, so quiet he barely hears you. Steve’s heart swells. “Thanks for … everything.”

A few moments later you fall silent and your breathing grows steady, and Steve wonders how the hell you always fall asleep so fast.

He rubs your arm, kisses your forehead because he knows you won’t remember this part. His lips buzz as he pulls away. “Goodnight, sweet thing.”

You’re outside Family Video. Steve emerges from the back room and spots you so fast it’s like he’s got a third eye. He’s both shocked and pleased — he hadn’t expected to see you until after his shift.

You’ve got the kids with you. You and Max are zooming around the carpark on your skateboards while Dustin and Lucas are poised on the hood of your car, poring over comics.

He watches you skate with Max. Like some lame rom-com cliche, your hair is blowing in the wind and Steve swears you’ve moving in slow motion. You’re laughing and joking with Max and Steve stares and stares. Stares until Robin sidles up next to him.

“What’re you— oh.” Steve can hear the smirk in her voice even though he refuses to look at her. “What’re they doing here?”

Steve shrugs and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound, moving to the counter to put down the box of videos he’s carrying. Robin follows.

“You’re not gonna go say hi to Y/N?” Robin asks slyly. Steve can hear in her voice what’s coming. “You’ve been staring long enough.”

Steve blushes furiously despite himself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh, sure.” Robin hoists herself onto the counter, peers into the box of videos and picks one out at random. “Just like you weren’t holding her hand on Tuesday night?”

Steve can’t exactly get himself out of that one. He snatches the video from Robin with an annoyed tsk, slotting it back into the box. Her laugh is devilish.

“You are hopeless, Steven,” she says, whacking Steve over the head as she hops off the counter.

Steve rubs his head and glares at Robin. If looks could kill she’d be dead meat. “That’s not my name.”

Robin gets this look on her face that Steve knows all too well. He wants to pummel her before she’s even said anything.

“Oh, sorry,” she says, all sarcasm. “What is it, then? Stevie?”

Steve’s blood boils. Only you’re allowed to call him that.

“Y’know what, Robin?” He says loudly. He turns on his coworker, seething. She’s totally nonchalant, a stupid smirk on her lips. “Why don’t you just leave me—?”

“Steve!”

A shout of his name from the door. He turns and finds Lucas standing there, looking panicked.

Steve’s brow furrows. Then he notices you and Max are no longer whizzing around the carpark. “What—“

“Y/N fell,” Lucas says, out of breath. “We think she hurt her wrist.”

Steve’s heart drops. “Shit.”

He goes flying out the door and into the parking lot. You’re sitting on the concrete, one knee pulled up to your chest, your skateboard dormant next to you. Max is kneeling over you, and Dustin has graciously abandoned his comics for your sake.

“Y/N!” He damn near shouts. He runs over to you and Max and gets on his knees. He’s probably just ruined his jeans on the concrete — he doesn’t give a single fuck.

“Y/N,” he says frantically, a tentative hand landing on your shoulder. Both your knees are scraped something awful and a nasty gash blooms on the outside of your wrist. Steve’s worry is loud and his heartbeat twice as much. “Y/N, are you okay? What happened? What’s—“

You look up. Your eyes are shining but you’ve got a dopey smile on your lips.

“Steve,” you say breathlessly. You blink and a tear falls from your eye and over the bump of your cheek. “Hi. Good to see you.”

Steve stares at you in horror. How can you be making jokes at a time like this? You laugh wetly and Steve looks at Max, totally alarmed.

“What happened?” He demands.

Max is much calmer than he is. “She went over a bump or something,” she says. She’s rubbing your back and Steve feels a rush of gratitude for the younger girl. “Fell on her left arm. Her wrist might be sprained or broken, but—“

“Broken?” Steve repeats. He’s pretty sure his soul just left his body.

“I said might,” Max says through her teeth.

“Y/N?” Steve slides his arm around your shoulder, carefully avoiding your left wrist, which you're cradling in your uninjured hand. “Y/N, baby, can you get up?”

You make a noise like a scoff but it’s muffled by your sniffly nose. “‘Course I can.”

Steve helps you anyway, Max on your other side keeping a firm hold on your jacket. You hiss as you straighten your legs, knee-wounds sprouting fresh blood. Steve bites down on his lip so hard he almost bleeds himself.

“Are you gonna take her to the hospital?” Max asks. There’s genuine worry in her eyes that Steve barely sees. Dustin, Lucas and Robin appear, looking equally worried.

Steve puts on a brave face. “Think so. What do you think?” He asks Max. “You’re the skateboard expert.”

She grins so quick Steve almost misses it. It disappears when she looks at you in your bloody and bruised state. “Yeah. Just in case.”

Steve walks you over to your car, half dragging you. Not that you need him to, he just can’t bear for you to hurt any more than you already are. He deposits you in the passenger seat, ducks his head in to pull your seatbelt across your torso. He’s seconds from ducking back out when you stop him, your uninjured hand on his chest, right over his racing heart.

“It hurts,” you say, quiet enough that only Steve can hear. Your eyes are welling up again. Steve feels like crying himself.

“I know,” he says, nodding vigorously like it will make a difference. “I know, sweet girl. It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be okay.”

At this point he’s talking to himself as well as you. You nod in an exhausted sort of way and Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. Slow and soft and as close to your lips as he’s ever kissed. He has to take a few seconds to compose himself before straightening up and turning to the others.

“I gotta take her,” he says, sending an apologetic grimace in Robin’s direction.

Robin nods once and surprisingly, doesn’t say a word. She looks about as sympathetic as Steve has ever seen her. He turns to the kids.

“Help Robin,” he says. He’s trying desperately to make his voice sound normal but falling short of the mark. Everyone notices but nobody comments. “Don’t mess up the store.”

He gives a grateful smile to Max and then rounds the car, hopping in and starting the engine.

You’re half asleep on Steve’s couch, your head in his lap. You’re wearing his yellow sweater — the one he bought only because you’d said he’d look good in yellow. You’ve just woken up from a post-hospital nap and Steve’s hand is in your hair, brushing slow strokes over the side of your head.

He’s feeling a lot of things. Relieved, for starters. The doctor had said it was only a sprain, they’d bandaged up your wrist and you’d left the hospital in far better conditions. Steve was in far better conditions, too.

Steve looks down at you, at your bandaged wrist and the huge bandaids on your knees and thinks, fuck. He thinks his heart is about to claw its way out of his chest. He doesn’t think he can take this love thing any longer.

You stir and take a long breath, turning your head in Steve’s lap to look up at him. Your eyes are tired but you’re smiling.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly. He doesn’t want to break the silence. It feels good, to sit in silence and comfort with you. He runs his fingers through your hair again.

You nod. “Mhm. I’m good.”

“Hurting?”

You shift in his lap. “No, not right now.”

You fall silent and Steve doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell you how worried he was about you, but you could probably tell. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell he was nauseous-level worried. Then he thinks about telling you he loves you. It’s a stupid reason, really, but it was all because a nurse had asked if he was your boyfriend. He’d wished he could say yes.

“Steve?”

Steve hums and meets your eyes. You move to sit up and Steve helps you, knowing you won’t let him stop you. A firm hand between your shoulder blades, his palm sliding down your back as you straighten yourself. You shift so you’re facing him, your legs crossed beneath you and your injured wrist resting in your lap. Steve is careful to avoid your wounded knees.

“What is it, babe?” Steve asks quietly. He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, dragging his thumb over a spot where your tears had smudged your mascara earlier.

You melt into his hand, eyes falling shut as a long, deep sigh falls from your lips. You raise your good hand to cover his, holding it to your face. Your hand burns stars onto the back of his.

“Is it your wrist?” Steve asks. You’re acting strange. He puts it down to your injured state. “Your knees? Do you want more ice? New band-aids?”

He’s being a total worrywart, he knows, but who can blame him?

You shake your head, eyes open but cast down. “No.”

“Just feeling bad?” He asks through a frown. In a strange parallel to a couple of days ago, he lifts his free hand to press his palm to your forehead. You feel warm but not hot.

“It’s …” you start, then trail off. Both yours and Steve’s hands fall to your lap.

Steve’s concern spikes. You’ve never been one to hide anything from him. “Yeah?”

“Um, it’s … it’s silly but—“ You take a deep breath and let your eyes raise to Steve’s. You get a look on your face Steve doesn’t quite understand, but it makes his heart leap to his throat anyway. “You know today, when that nurse asked us if you were my boyfriend?”

Steve laughs embarrassedly, too loud and too sudden. So you’d been thinking about that, too. He pulls his hand away from your lap and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, that was kinda weird, wasn’t it?” He says, though it wasn’t really. Almost every new person he meets thinks you’re dating him. “I was—”

“I wanted to say yes, Stevie.”

Steve stops talking abruptly, his mouth slamming shut. He hadn’t really known what he was about to say, anyway. He searches for words but all he comes up with is a garbled, “What?”

You laugh, all soft and slow and distorted by fatigue. You raise your hand to rub your neck, a mirror of Steve only a moment ago.

“I wanted to say yes,” you repeat, like it’s obvious. Even the second time, Steve doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His chest feels like it’s on fire, worse when you say, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

For once in his life, Steve has nothing to say. He gazes at you like you’re some sort of angel on earth. Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s in some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up with his chest aching.

“I …” Steve‘s voice catches on the words. His throat burns so he mustn’t be dreaming. He tries again. “Y-You … you do?”

He’s not even embarrassed by the stuttering. Just when he didn’t think he could be any more in love with you, you giggle. He was dead wrong. His heart grows about three sizes too big for his chest.

“Yeah, Steve,” you say, fondness smothering your fake exasperation. “Do you … do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

What Steve wants is to kiss you. He wants to kiss you til you can’t breathe and then some more after that. Silently, he takes your injured wrist in his hand and gently shifts it so it’s out of the way, resting on the couch cushions. Then he grabs your face, fingers splayed over your jaw and neck. He can feel your pulse. It’s almost as quick as his. He leans so close he can hear every breath you’re taking.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. “That okay?”

You laugh a giddy, breathless laugh, surprised at his suddenness. “Please do.”

He slams his eyes shut, darts forward to kiss you and fucking misses. Your noses bump. A surprised giggle bubbles from you and Steve goes red.

“Wait, I’m sorry—“ He tries again, tilting your head to one side and angling his head to the other. This time it works perfectly, and your giggling is swallowed up by Steve’s mouth, lips fitting together like they were made for each other.

You sigh and go all melty and Steve’s heart skyrockets. It feels like everything in the world is falling into place. It’s years of longing, eternities of lingering touches and offhand compliments and longing glances all rolled into one life changing kiss. Your good hand has jumped to Steve’s chest, first bunched in the material of his t-shirt and then spreading over it, palm atop his wild heart. He thinks he might die on the spot. Or like, catch on fire or something.

Steve is losing breath but he won’t stop just yet. He drops his hands to your shoulders and pulls away a hair’s breadth. Then he dives back in for one, two, three kisses that you respond to with all the eagerness in the world. Your kisses are so lovely they make him light-headed.

When Steve pulls away (for oxygen, nothing less) you chase his lips with yours. He laughs, all fondness. He’s dizzy with love.

“Woah, hold your horses, cowboy,” he says through a woozy laugh. He’s finding it hard to speak. He barely hears himself. For all he knows, he’s talking in an alien language.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sounding very sorry at all. “So … was that a yes?”

Steve has to laugh. He can’t help it. “Are you kidding? Yes, Y/N. That was a yes. I—“

He’s rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door. He thinks he knows who it is. Only one person he knows knocks that hard.

He sighs morosely but he can’t keep the grin off his face for very long. “I’ll get it.”

He heaves himself off the couch and makes for the front door. You stop him before he gets very far, a hand in his bicep.

“Wait, Steve.”

Steve turns, puzzled. “Yeah?”

You’re lifting your chin up, lips parted. Steve knows exactly what you want.

His grin grows impossibly wider as he bends at the waist to kiss you once, chaste and slow and just as perfect as the kisses shared moments ago. When he pulls away you’re smiling so big he’s worried you’ll get stuck like that forever. He wouldn’t mind.

Another round of banging from the door. Steve sighs, squeezes your good shoulder once and then marches to the front door, just about ready to kick the intruder off his front porch. He opens the door and finds his suspicions were correct. It’s Dustin.

He’s holding a handful of flowers that look suspiciously similar to the ones that grow in Steve’s mom’s garden.

“Those for me?” Steve asks. He shoots his arm out to stop Dustin from barging in, hand gripping the door frame.

Dustin pulls a face. “Ew. No, they’re for Y/N.” He steps aside and more kids appear, plus Robin and Eddie. Eddie’s van has been parked haphazardly in Steve’s driveway. “Can we come in or are you gonna stand there and guard the door like that all night?”

“She’s tired.”

“But we bought chocolates.”

“Well—“

“Dustin?” You call from the living room. Oh, great. Now Steve’s gonna have to let them in. “S’that you?”

Dustin beams and gives Steve an expectant look. Steve drops his arm with a defeated sigh and Dustin goes marching in like he owns the place. Max, Lucas and even Mike follow. Mike, who never shows up to anything. Though Steve shouldn’t be surprised. You’re Mike’s favourite, out of the older ones.

Eddie comes next, then Robin, who stops to give Steve a grimace.

“Sorry,” she says wryly. “They really wanted to see her.”

Steve shrugs good-naturedly. He’s on cloud nine and much too happy to care all that much. He follows Robin into the living room and finds everyone crowded around you, Max on your side and Dustin getting down on one knee to present you the probably-stolen flowers like you’re the Queen of England. You look the same as Steve feels — kiss bitten and with your head in another world. But you’re pleased by the company, he can tell.

Dustin moves to give you one of his bone-crushing hugs and Steve goes all panic mode.

“Please be careful with her!” He says urgently, his panic obvious under the usual demanding tone he takes with the kids.

But you’re laughing under Dustin’s hug, and Steve can’t stay mad when you look like that. You meet his eyes over a mop of curly hair and your gaze goes all mushy and sweet. Steve’s legs feel like jelly. If he keeled over dead right now, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He’s sure someone will see but he doesn’t really care. Grinning from ear to ear, he mouths, “Love you.”

He’s said it before, of course he has, you’re his best friend in the whole entire world. This time though, it’s all the more different. It’s better. You flush, oblivious to the noisy chatter around you.

“Love you too,” you mouth back.

Steve can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated!! reblog this and I’ll kiss you on the mouth mwah

#★ mal writes!#(mal pushes herself past her limit)#ღ stevie #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader fluff #stevesmixtape!

11K notes · View notes

landosjpg · 12 days

Text

new year’s day | ln

the one where you and your boyfriend clean up after hosting a new year’s day party

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: just fluff

note: based on this request. not proofread & not really sure how i feel about this one so pls share your thoughts with me :)

you turned the music down and tied your hair up in a messy bun with a loud sigh. you were exhausted from the party, and the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was to clean the whole mess.

“y/n!” the giggles of your girl friends walking in the living room again made you get up from where you were sitting on the couch, trying to rest for the first time that night.

“our cab is already outside” your other friend added, announcing their departure.

you walked them to the door, noticing how they were carrying their heels in their hands while yours were still torturing your poor feet. you hugged them goodbye and watched as they walked to the car waiting for them on the other side of the road, stumbling and tripping a little. you could already see the sun starting to rise, but they were clearly a little tipsy still.

much to your disliking, you hadn’t had much to drink that night, too worried about your precious new house to not keep an eye on everything that your guests were doing.

it sounded quite controlling, yes. but the less you had to clean after everyone left, the better. lando had tried, unsuccessfully, to get you to stop worrying; but the thought of someone accidentally dropping their drink on your beloved couch was enough to make you stay alert.

that was part of your charm, lando always said.

you dragged yourself back to the living room, where the remains of the party made you regret having offered to host it in the first place. there was a thin layer of glitter all over the floor, and you knew it would take weeks to get rid of all of it.

with another sigh, you then walked to the kitchen where you kept the broom, just wanting to clean a little before getting to bed; the vacuum could wait for a few hours. as you walked in, you saw your boyfriend’s back to you.

he didn’t hear you, too busy cleaning the plates and glasses to do so. the corners of your lips perked up at the sight of him, the white shirt he was wearing sparking something inside you.

you slowly walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed to his back.

“hi,” you mumbled. you heard him turning the tap off and slowly turning around to wrap his arms around you too.

“hello, pretty girl,” he said, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “everything alright?”

he could feel that you were tired, so when you just nodded as an answer he pulled you closer and gave you a little kiss on the forehead before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“i’m almost done here. can you bring the bottles from the living?” he asked after a couple of seconds in silence, and when you whined to complain, he softly rubbed your back.

he chuckled, pulling back a little to look down at you.

“i know, baby,” he mumbled, squeezing you in his arms. “we’ll go to bed as soon as we’re done, yeah?”

his voice was soft; knowing that the only thing you wanted was to call it a day. he gave you a gentle smile, so with a dramatic sigh, you nodded and got on your tiptoes to peck his lips before slowly going back to pick up the bottles spread all around the house.

as you collected all the trash around the different rooms and threw it in a bag that you would take care of later, you made a mental note for yourself to never host a party like this again. lando’s giggles coming from the dining room interrupted your train of thought, making your lips paint a little smile.

if you had to choose a favorite sound, it would definitely be your boyfriend’s laugh.

“what is it?” you asked, walking to where the sound came from. he turned to look at you, a silly smile on his face as he showed you some polaroids that your friends had taken of you when the clock hit midnight.

it was nothing special, but it captured the essence of your relationship perfectly. the two of you just smiling into your new year’s kiss, then both of you breaking into a fit of laughter about some stupid (and probably even unfunny) joke lando had made.

his arms found their way around your body again, your back now pressed to his chest as you two looked at the pictures in silence, your smiles speaking for themselves.

“you know i love you, right?” he whispered, kissing the back of your ear.

you hummed. you didn’t need to tell him you loved him back, he already knew. for a few seconds, you closed your eyes and just enjoyed the feeling of his arms around you as you slightly swung together to the rhythm of the slow song still coming from the speakers.

“let’s go to bed,” he suggested a few minutes later, knowing that your feet were still probably in pain and that, if you could, you would fall asleep in that very moment.

gently, he made you spin around so he could lift you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. he lied you down carefully and helped you remove your clothes, making sure that you were comfortable after sliding one of his shirts down your body and tucking you in.

you didn’t question it when he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with just the dim nightstand light on, but when he came back with a few cotton pads and make-up remover, you were already fast asleep.

trying his best to not wake you up and knowing how much you hated going to sleep with your make-up on, he gently removed it with slow strokes. his lips pressed a kiss to your cheek as he finally got in bed himself, snuggling closer to you and keeping you warm under his embrace.

moments like those being the ones he would hold on to forever.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4 smut #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff

988 notes · View notes

suengmi · 1 year

Text

- the ways stray kids show their love and affection

genre: fluff/romance, nonidol!au, gn!reader warnings: mentions of making out, nakedness? idk lol

anyways this is just major soft hours, one of my moots said i should do this i can't remember who it was pls lmk if it was you asljdls also unedited

♡ masterlist / pls reblog if you liked! it helps a lot ♡

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ bang chan

sweet kisses all over your face to wake you up, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling you. “i’m bored wake up babe.” grunts when you ignore him. ends up pulling the sheets back so your naked body is exposed to the cold. “that’s what you get.” gets salty but then feels bad, covering you up again, then he really wakes you up. back hugs when you’re cooking for him. whining whenever you don’t pay attention to him, tugging at the edge of your shirt. sulks when you say you’re busy. doesn’t give a fuck about how clingy he is, but he knows you love it. holds your hand a little too hard when you’re walking together. kiss attacks always!!

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ lee know

stops you from crossing the street until he’s checked it. “stupid, look next time.” beats you twice in a board game but sees that you're sad that you’re not that good at it, but fails the third time just to see you smile and gloat about beating him. he loves seeing you happy, even if he has to purposely fail. leaves you notes everywhere, maybe just ‘i love yous’ mixed in with ‘i know you’ll forget this so don’t.’ text messages asking if you’ve eaten, and then getting mad and sending food to your door if you haven’t. swiftly kisses to the forehead aggressively saying you ‘deserve it’ but sounds like a threat. ‘you know i love you yeah?’ more aggressive kisses. ‘i won’t stop until you say you love me!!’

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ changbin

little wrestling matches on the couch, telling you that you’re silly for even trying. pulls you by the back of your hair if you’re not paying attention to him. “i left you the last piece of food.” always, always saves you the last piece no matter what it is. picks you up and throws you around, pretending he’s going to eat you bc apparently he’s a monster. but says you taste good so he doesn’t mind eating you. more wrestles. whenever you’re sad, he always cheers you up and never fails to make you laugh. does his trot impression of some old korean songs, full performance with your glitter jacket on that doesn’t fit him. ‘you still love me now? you better.’ knows you love being engulfed by him, so 90% of the time he is the big spoon. when he's feeling really romantic, he'll do a little picnic at the beach. always making sure it was at sunset because he knew it was your favourite time of the day.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jisung

midnight trips to get take out, sitting in the car until 2am with both of your feet on the dashboard. ‘remember that time!’ always reminiscing about how you first met, nearly choking on your fries when you recall. kisses in the car, kisses in the house, kisses in the shower, kisses in the dark. ‘babe but i want it.’ chucks a tanty when you don’t buy him things. pouts and folds his arms. ‘if you loved me you would!’ holds the cuff of your jumper, mostly walking behind you whenever you go somewhere because he feels safe. morning calls, but especially night calls. he doesn’t care how you look at the end of the day, he just wants to see you and tell you he loves you. hiding himself in your jumper and saying there is enough room for two (when there isn't.)

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ hyunjin

taking you to art galleries, standing behind you with his head resting on yours. ends up putting his hands into your pockets from behind, cutely leading you around from the back. with hyunjin it’s not always words, sometimes it’s just his actions. he pushes your hair out of your face or tucks it behind your hair. mostly, he does your hair for you. always making sure your hair was out of your face because it annoyed you. brings you tea and sits with you if you’re studying or drawing or even watching tv, rubs your thigh gently to let you know that he doesn’t want to distract you, just shows you he wants to be with you. rubs your belly if you feel bloated and talks to it. 'you better stop being bloated or... i'll do something. idk what.' art dates!! always drawing together, even if you're shit he encourages you to keep going

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ seungmin

gently slips his fingers into yours without saying anything but smiling to himself when he sees you blush, he kind of loves that he makes you nervous. always taking the chance to make your cheeks tint pink. showers with seungmin, always washing your body and shampooing your hair for you, wet kisses in between. sometimes he’d gently press his nose on your naked skin, enjoying your scent but never admitting it. ‘it’s comforting’ he’d say in defence, ignoring you for the rest of the night. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, making sure you were safe no matter where you were. kisses to the forehead, the back of the hand, the back of your knees. seungmin doesn’t say it much, but he does love you. he shows it through everything else, knowing those words have such a weight to them.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ felix

‘are you gonna cook!?’ jumping up and down when you say yes, annoying you the whole time you’re cooking or baking. ‘is it done? i can’t wait to eat it!!’ eats half of the food before it’s even cooked because he says it’s ‘too good.’ little play fights that would begin from felix nibbling at your fingers and then at your thighs. ‘little gremlin’ you’d end up joking, rolling around on the floor, bodies all over each other, which would end in a heated make out session and clothes far gone. he’d send you random texts, of random things. ‘hey i saw this flower, it's cute, yeah?’ ‘this potato looks like you. it’s too cute to eat T-T’ ‘you think i could eat 11 hot dogs in two minutes? hmm maybe.’

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ jeongin

blowing raspberries on your tummy and holding you down. sometimes uses your foot as a telephone. ‘yes hello stinky foot line how can i stink you today?’ proceeds to try and hold your foot with his. 'shut up i can do it!!' probably be super sarcastic, mocking you when you tried to be cute with whatever you were saying. karaoke together, always singing out of pitch but though he’s laughing, encourages you to be more confident because he loves seeing you enjoy yourself. watches you sometimes, just admiring you but instantly whips his head around to pretend he wasn’t, head banging into something hanging from the wall. ‘mind your business’ he’d joke, walking away suspiciously.

♡ taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @ipegchangbin @abcdefgiwsmcty ♡

3K notes · View notes

captainfern · 9 months

Note

literally anything graves pls pls pLS PLS PLS PSL

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Tusk

Commander Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[“Tusk” by Fleetwood Mac]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - you and graves were enemies (kinda?) and are exposed to a weird chemical. the classic fuck-or-die scenario lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.2k • warnings - fem!reader, sex pollen, enemies-to-lovers?, unprotected piv (they're both drugged up so imma just leave this here as a reminder), praise, breeding kink !!!, strong language, violence

not ashamed to say i'm a graves whore 🙏

also love a good ol' fuck-or-die sex pollen fic lolol

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You crept through the woods with your assault-rifle clutched heavily in your hands. You were careful to step lightly, avoiding patches of twigs and dry leaves. Clouds brewed overhead and it smelt of rain as you sucked in a deep breath, eyes darting around.

Separated from your task force an hour ago, you had been forced to continue through the eerily quiet woodlands in pursuit of your target alone. A terrorist lurked somewhere beyond the sea of trees and you were determined to hunt him down.

Walking for a bit longer, the forest thinned and opened up into a small clearing. In the centre, the target you had been pursuing, kneeling on the ground and rummaging through the contents of a small plastic box, almost like a toolbox.

You cocked your gun and stepped into the clearing.

"Don't fucking move." You hissed, approaching slowly. Wind was picking up around you, rustling the leaves, tree branches swaying in the wind, making it hard to detect any foreign movement amongst the foliage.

The target turned, still on his knees, hands still in the narrow plastic box on the ground before him. You pointed your gun directly at him.

"Show me your hands." You said, trying to keep your anger at bay.

The man simply looked at you, not an ounce of fear on his face. You cocked your head to the side, and that's when you heard it— hurried footsteps running up behind you. Before you could react, an arm was wrapping around your neck, pulling you backwards.

You fell to the floor, the wind being knocked out of you as another man pinned you to the ground, the point of a long knife prodding into your stomach. Each shallow breath you took skimmed the blade rougher along your skin through your shirt. The mans other hand was ripping your gun from your hands, tossing it away.

"Son of a bitch—!" You grumbled, slamming your fist into the mans face repeatedly.

After a few blows, his nose bleeding heavily, he caught your arm and kept it pinned to your chest. You grunted, wiggling beneath him.

He shook his head at you. "Don't—"

A gunshot echoed loudly through the clearing, and the man on top of you exploded in a spray of red, collapsing to the side and rolling off your body. You quickly jumped to your feet, scrambling to pick up your gun as a couple more shots filled the clearing. You looked around, your stomach dropping.

Fucking Graves.

He jammed a fresh mag into his gun, cocking it and firing it at the man in the centre of the clearing. The man rolled across the dirt, taking his box with him. You scowled, cocking your own gun and running towards the man on the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You heard Graves shout after you. "Don't get close!"

Why would you listen to him? As soon as you got rid of your target, you were seriously contemplating popping a cap in Graves' head too.

You stormed over to the man on the floor, who was trying to crawl away, bleeding from his leg. He turned onto his back as you lifted your gun, muzzle trained on his face. You had your finger on the trigger when he reached into his box, and threw something at you.

"Sergeant— fuck!" Graves ran over to you, shooting the man and killing him.

It was too late, and whatever the target threw at you exploded across your body in a massive, glittering cloud of yellowy-pink smoke. You gasped in shock, the substance invading your airways and filling your lungs. You stumbled back, skin caked in sunset-coloured residue, glittering beneath the sun rays filtering through the clouds.

Graves was coughing a few feet away from you, hunched over, his gun clattering to the ground. He had his hands on his knees, spitting up the substance that sparkled like glitter in his saliva. His skin was dusted with it too.

"What... what did I fucking say? Stupid fucking–" He cut himself off with a violent cough, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and standing up.

Meanwhile, you were wiping as much of the substance off as you can, your skin tingling. Not tingling in pain, but tingling with warmth. It didn't take long for the yellowish-pink colour to dissipate, leaving behind glitter that coated your skin like something out of fucking Twilight.

"What the hell..." You breathed, tasting something sweet in your mouth. Sugar, peaches, a hint of something earthy, like ginger.

Your brows furrowed, mind foggy. What were you about to say?

You looked over at Graves, who had picked up his gun and strapped it to his chest. He was looking at you, the same confused expression on his face, mirroring yours.

"What was that?" You asked, voice breaking.

Graves blinked down at the dead body, then squatted beside it, inspecting the contents of the plastic box. After a moment, he got to his feet so fast you though he'd been eletrecuted.

"We need to get out of here." He said, urgency in his tone. He wrapped a hand around your wrist and began pulling you away.

"What?" You scowled, tugging your hand away from his. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Graves whirled around. "Don't start this. We need to get somewhere safe, sergeant, whether you like it or not."

You crossed your arms over your chest, skin still glittering. "Why should I listen to you?"

Graves sighed through his nose, a frown heavy on his face. "You know what? Fine. Don't come with me. Stay here and die in the fucking woods for all I care."

With that, he turned and stormed away. You watched him vanish into the forest, now alone with the silence and rapid beating of your heart against your ribcage. You were feeling abnormally hot for some reason. Something warm settled in your stomach, and you groaned, shaking your head to yourself before your legs started moving before your brain could think, and you were chasing after him.

•º•

Graves led you back to his armoured car, parked covertly amongst the trees beside a desolate dirt road.

By the time you both got to the car, you felt as though your insides were on fire. Your skin was heating up, your clothes suddenly heavy and uncomfortable against you. Sweat glistened along your bare arms and face, the glitter left behind from the substance still embedded in your pores.

Your arms and legs trembled when you clambered into the front seat, Graves slamming the door shut behind you. You placed your gun at your feet.

Something in the pit of your stomach was tight, like a ball of anxiety, making you feel all sorts of dizzy as your eyes struggled to keep focused. Your mind was foggy, too, but not in a nauseous way. Like everything around you was a dream, fuzzy at the edges.

But the worst of it all, you were throbbing.

You could feel your core pulsing, soaking your underwear. Your arousal was dripping out of you, making your face grow warmer as you squeezed your thighs together. Your tits ached within the confines of your bra, and you whined as Graves settled into the drivers seat and started the engine.

He spared a quick glance at you. He too was slick with sweat, his pupils blown wide like he was high on something.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding breathless, his southern drawl stretched across the vowels.

The armoured car rumbled to life, and the vibrations made your core flutter around nothing. A stream of arousal leaking from you and you could feel it. You whined, biting your lip. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so hard it was starting to hurt.

"Mhm..." you were trying to look anywhere but him.

Usually, you avoided looking at Graves because his smug face made you really fucking annoyed. But now... embarrassing enough, his smug face was making you horny.

Graves' driving was erratic down the narrow dirt road. He was trying desperately to get out of these woods as quick as he could, but it was no use. You were both truly in the middle of nowhere, and the drive was going to be long and severely uncomfortable.

He felt hot and sticky. Nothing like Texan summers. His clothes were drenched with sweat, smelling sickly sweet like ripe orchard fruit. He grit his teeth, feeling his cock throbbing within the confines of his underwear, stomach tight with the need for release.

What the hell was going on?

He tried to keep his eyes on the road, hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't help sparing a glance at you beside him.

Bottom lip between your teeth, skin glittering with sweat and residue. Your pupils were blown too, like those fucking Beanie Boo stuffed toys. He noticed your thighs pressed tightly together, and the way your hands gripped the edge of the seat, shaking.

He ripped his eyes away from you with a grunt. His cock was hard now, straining in his trousers.

After an eternity (half a minute) you released a whine, the pressure building within you too much to handle.

"Graves..." you whimpered, hot and bothered and horny. "Graves, please."

"What?" He breathed, trying to be stern, but it came out more as a strained groan.

"I can't... I need... fuck," you wriggled in your seat. "I'm— ah, please. I need... I needa come."

Graves groaned. "Christ, don't say that, sarge."

"Please," you whimpered. "Help me."

"Christ," he grit his teeth and veered directly off the road before slamming on the breaks, the armoured car sheltered between the trees. "The Lord is testing me today."

Graves pushed his door open, hopping out before he slammed it shut. A moment later, he was clambering into the backseat.

"Come on." He whispered, and you bit your lip, crawling through the gaps in the front two seats until you were in the back also.

You moved to straddle him, your thighs pressing over his. His hands came to rest on your hips, just holding as the both of you looked at each other, sharing rapid breaths. Your skin was burning where he was touching you at the waistband of your trousers.

"What are we doing?" You whispered.

He licked his lips. "Don't know."

You kissed him, and he kissed you back. You cupped his face in your hands as his tongue broke past the seam of your lips, pressing to yours. You moaned into the kiss, exchanging sugary-sweet saliva that made your core throb. Graves let out a low sound, gripping your hips tightly and grinding you down onto the bulge in his cargos.

You moved your hips with his hands as you kissed. Shifting your aching core across the tent in the denim, the friction sending shock waves through your body, making your thighs quiver. You whined into the kiss, and Graves pulled back.

"Y'alright?" He whispered, foreheads pressed together.

You moaned, chasing his mouth again. This time, your tongue swiped against his lips first. You moved your hips, the seam of your trousers pressing roughly to your core, making you suck in a deep breath.

Graves moved one hand to the back of your neck, gently prying your mouth away from his. You pouted, the unsettling warmth returning to your lips and face the moment you weren't kissing him.

"Y'alright?" He repeated, massaging the back of your neck. "Need you to t-talk to me, sarge."

You nodded deliriously. "Yes, yeah, fuck, m'fine."

"We... I can stop if—"

"Don't you fucking dare." You hissed, rocking yourself harder onto his bulge, making his eyes roll.

He groaned, allowing you to pull him back into the kiss. Meanwhile, you reached your hands downwards and caught hold of his belt. You unbuckled it, then proceeded to unzip his cargos.

Graves groaned, pulling out of the kiss and lifting his hips, you still on his lap. You shuffled back and pulled his cargos with you. Dipping a hand into his underwear, you freed his cock with a moan on your lips. He groaned too, bucking into your touch.

"Holy..." He gritted his teeth, hissing out a breath as you clasped a hand around his cock.

It was hot in your hand, so hard it was throbbing against your palm. The reddened tip was leaking pearl after pearl of pre-cum, dribbling continuously from his slit. He moaned your name, head falling back against the carseat as you pumped him.

Your hole fluttered around nothing at the sight.

"Graves..."

"Yeah, baby, you okay?" He sounded fucked out.

You moaned. "Need you inside me."

"Oh, fuck," Graves whimpered as you began shimmying your own cargos away from your body. "Fuck, yeah, o-okay... okay, baby, hol' on... jus' hol' on."

His words were slurring together as he watched you, hard cock bobbing up against his abdomen. He groaned loudly, catching sight of your underwear— completely drenched, dark with your arousal. He cupped it with the palm of his hand, causing you to whine out his name.

"So wet, baby," he whispered, rubbing two thick fingers up and down your folds. "God damn, so fucking wet. Jus' look at you, doll."

"Commander..." you moaned, and you didn't mean for it to come out so sultry, but it did.

Graves moaned loud. He hooked his two fingers beneath the material of your underwear and pulled them to the side, exposing your sopping cunt. Your arousal was literally dripping from you, making Graves moan loudly again.

"Yeah, tha's right, tha's fuckin' right," Graves mumbled, eyes trained on your glistening core. "S'your commander who's gon' stuff this tight cunt."

You moaned around a sob as Graves guided you to hover over his cock. The head notched at your entrance, fireworks exploding in your stomach and he hadn't even pushed in yet.

"Hold this pretty thing outta the way for me, baby." Graves grabbed your hand, urging you to take hold of the edge of your underwear, keeping your fluttering hole exposed.

You listened, and he used one hand to grip your hip and the other to grip the base of his cock. Then, he pushed you down, thrusting his hips at the same time, his cock slamming inside you in one swift motion.

You had been slightly worried that the stretch would hurt. You hadn't prepped at all, and the size of him had made your breath hitch. But, as he bottomed out, your worries were gone. You were so fucking wet that he pushed in with ease, a loud, lewd squelch echoing around the armoured car.

Graves moaned your name.

You whimpered, feeling his fat cock pulsing inside you. So warm and hard. You squeezed around him, and Graves moaned again. Then, he grabbed both of your hips and began thrusting up into you with desperation. You put one hand on his shoulder to help stabilise yourself.

"G-Graves..." You stuttered out as his cock slammed into that spot within you over and over. Your body was on fire, rapidly approaching release the fastest you ever had. But the feeling settled deeply in your stomach, building tighter and tighter.

Your legs shook around him, the hand holding your underwear shaking too. Graves saw this and he knocked your hand away, opting instead to rip your underwear off your body. You gasped, the elastic snapping against your bare skin. Still fucking up into you, he stuffed the material into the pocket of his cargos, half-way down his thighs.

You would've made a cheeky remark if he hadn't stripped you of your ability to think clearly.

His cock kissed your cervix with each upwards thrust. He grunted deeply, pressing open-mouthed kissed along the expanse of your bare neck. He sucked the glittering residue from your throat, moaning, dragging his teeth against the soft skin.

You moaned, hands tightening around his shoulders. You were so close, a burning hot pleasure packed tight in the base of your tummy.

"Easy, baby, easy," Graves soothed as desperate whines left your mouth, your body shaking. "I've got you. Good girl... you wanna come? Yeah, you wanna come?"

"Please." You pleaded through a moan, and Graves placed his mouth to yours for a moment.

When he pulled back, your mouth fell open as his cock nudged you closer and closer to release. One of the hands he had on your hips snaked downwards, and you felt a finger press roughly to your clit. You keened, moaning loudly as he rubbed even circles across your little bundle of nerves.

"Please, please, please." You babbled, eyes drawing closed as your body grew tighter and tighter, the burning pressure in your lower tummy becoming unbearable.

Graves hummed, eyes on your face. "Tha's it, baby. Come 'round my cock. Come 'round my cock, good girl, tha's it."

The heavy pressure in your tummy released as you came, and you now realised what exactly it was.

You gushed around him, moaning his name over and over again. Your release flooded out past his cock, drenching his thighs and the light hair at the base. Your hole clamped and squeezed around him, wet squelches growing louder as his pace picked up.

You fucking squirted.

And Graves loved it.

He moaned. "Fucking hell. G-good girl, baby, oh my God—"

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering. You felt a bit better, but you were still burning hot. Your core was still sopping wet and overly sensitive. You just needed him to come.

Luckily for you, he was almost there.

Graves had both his hands on your hips again, chasing his high. He grunted and groaned, breathing erratically as his cock slammed into you. You whimpered and whined into his neck, and he was listening to you, squeezing your hips softly.

"Take it, baby, you can take it. Take my cock like a good girl, yeah? Almost there, baby, jus' sit pretty an' take it."

With a few more desperate ruts of his cock, Graves threw his head back and moaned your name. It made your cunt squeeze around him.

"M'coming, baby," he whispered. "Want you to take it all. Want to fill you up, alright? Want it to take, baby, want it to fuckin’ take."

You groaned, sucking on the warm skin of his neck as he continued to rut into you, thrusts becoming sloppier.

"Tha's it, baby, good girl, let my fill this tight cunt," Graves mumbled deeply. "Let me make you a mommy. Wanna make you a mommy, baby, come on."

He came with a moan of your name, stuffing himself so deep that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You whimpered as he filled you, hot and sticky. There was a lot, too— Graves pumped you full, groaning breathlessly into the armoured car, cock plugging his seed deep inside you.

It didn't soften much either as the two of you caught your breaths. You weren't on fire, anymore. But your core still ached for him, even though he was literally still inside you.

You leaned back, and he placed a kiss to your cheek.

"You feeling alright, sarge?" He asked in a whisper, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"Yeah," you breathed. "You?"

"Better already," he said. "But... let's go again, just to make sure we got it out of our systems. How's that sound?"

It sounded good, actually.

Really fucking good.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

i wanna fuck the shit outta this man no joke

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #phillip graves #graves call of duty #graves cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #graves smut #cod mwii #captain'sfleetwood

2K notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 3 months

Text

honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre.

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours.

The glitter hadn��t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets.

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story.

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in.

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.”

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing.

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly.

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw.

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well.

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open.

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.”

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh.

“Please, Eddie.”

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#this one is a little self indulgent ngl #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #celebrity skin.

484 notes · View notes

euaphoric · 9 months

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡ જ⁀➴ ‎♡‧₊˚ [ ストロベリー ]

✩‧₊˚ pairing — boyfriend!jk x hyperfem!f!reader

✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, sm*t (not too detailed tho), cutesy couple stuff, v dramatic koo, marking, dry h*mping, c*ckwarming

nothing’s more fun than sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, looking pretty while doing your makeup <3

banner made by moi, pls don’t steal! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“mmph, hah—stopp that tickles!” your voice squeaks from forcefully letting out a string of giggles. attempting to apply eyeshadow through the vanity in front of you but failing miserably. all you can hear is him whining and moaning, “but whyyy? i’m having too much fun with youu.” ring clad fingers creep up past your collarbone again, jungkook was getting way more entertainment out of this than you. “‘c-cause you’re distracting me, gah!” the noises you’re making are obnoxiously loud at this point but he didn’t seem to care at all. you’ve given up—tears began to form in the corners of your eyes now, this tickle spree has gone on for far too long but no matter how much you protest and squirm he wouldn’t let you out his grasp.

it started off tranquil at first, casually sitting on his lap with his arms locked around your waist—nuzzling his chin in your neck as you do your makeup to head out with friends later. you were trying to keep him entertained by narrating everything you’re doing, acting like one of those beauty gurus you like to watch on tiktok or youtube. you wore your my melody spa headband to keep the strands out your face, along with your favorite pastel mini dress, the knee high stockings with satin bows were the cherry on top set the look. jungkook gets bored super easily, his mind will draw attention elsewhere in a split second and usually that ends up with bothering you as much as possible. he’d sneak quick little kisses here and there, play with your thighs, basically keeping his hands anywhere but to himself. that’s when he started tickling you for no absolute reason, he loved hearing your high-pitched squeals—it was pure serotonin to him, he needed more to brighten his day.

“koo!” you cry, “please!” your shaky hands fumble with the brush in attempt to playfully hit him with it. sigh, you just wanna do your makeup in peace. “l-leavee me alone!” it sounded nowhere near threatening coming from you, there was not a scary bone in your body whatsoever. “like i’ll ever do that peaches, you’re my babyy,” he chimes, glittering you with sweet endearing compliments “you shouldn’t be so stinkin’ cute! wanna eat you.” when he pretends to bite your ear this only makes the uncontrollable laughter continue, and by now you’re never going to finish this makeup in time. “i really need.. t-to get goin’ ssoon!” there was no indication what the time was currently but you know you’ve wasted enough that you were going to be running late meeting your friends. “mmm..but i don’t want you to go, stay here!” jungkook finally caves in with stopping the tickles (only for now) but gets all mopey about you leaving him.

“eeek, i’m free!” you graciously cheer now that you can go back to what you’re doing. “so handsy today, maybe it’s the strawberry lotion..” “ah, so that’s what it is?” he asks, “was wonderin’ why you smelled like strawberry shortcake.” “mhm, i know you like that one.” you grab your eyeshadow brush to dip it in your fav dior palette, choosing a pretty peach color to add to your eyelid, then apply silver glitter on top to make it pop. “who you looking all cute for like this anyway, huh? i won’t be able to protect you from all the pervs staring at what’s mine!” god he can be so overly dramatic at times, always wanting to keep you inside so no one can even look at you. of course he doesn’t do it in a toxic way but he gets jealous real easily and never let’s go of your hand when out in public—he just feels so lucky to have stumbled upon someone like you, cute, smart, funny, sexy, kind, all in one.

lush pink lips trail down to your shoulders, the slightest touch leaving you with goosebumps as he’s still hugging your waist firmly in his embrace. “ugh…don’t want you to go.” jungkook murmurs against you, gliding his hands up and down your body, he sounded so sad and it didn’t help that you could see him pouting through the mirror. “i won’t be out for long, i’ll be back before you know it kookie!” he still didn’t sound convinced. he was very selfish with you, he wants you all to himself most of the time so whenever you go hang out with friends he makes it such a big production. “you’re so beautiful baby,” he coos, “my cute little princess.” his veiny hands shift underneath the hem of your dress, caressing your plump, ample thighs. more delicate kisses are planted up your neck, he’s become increasingly quiet now—focusing solely on this moment of cherishing you. he might’ve gotten a bit too comfortable as one of his hands traveled up to fondle your breasts, not even realizing until you said something.

“was last night not enough for you?” you giggle, reaching for your lipstick. “no” he simply replied, “i need you 24/7.” “all day, every day.” he was too precious, you wanted to put him in your pocket forever. you moved ever so slightly in his bond, noticing the familiar feeling of his bulge against your clothed heat. just that tiny bit of movement was enough to get you flustered. you hadn’t sensed his overt horniness until now—just bathing in his warmth and letting his desires roam free, you didn’t think he’d actually get turned on by all of this. then again, this is jungkook we’re talking about, he’ll get horny just by seeing your ankle. “mmph…want you baby.” his pleas are so adorable to you, but you’re already short on time so you had to hurry soon. jungkook rocks his hips into you, sliding his fingertips down your sides while nipping at your neck. “we gotta make it quick though..” you whisper softly, grinding against him to match his lazy movement. “you have my word princess.” he steers your hips in place to keep you exactly where he wants, steadily running his hands over your exposed skin. the tent in his pants only grew as you kept rubbing your ass on him, he’s simply going to jizz himself if it continues like this.

“fuck, can’t take anymore. want to feel youu.” he whines immaturely, never able to contain any patience within. “better hurry then.” you remind him of the time crunch, with that answer he wastes not another second to pull it out of his sweatpants—sliding your panties aside and slipping in with ease. your body’s become so accustomed to him that you don’t need foreplay half the time. once he’s fully settled in he stays motionless for a while, letting you adjust to his thickness. several fleeting kisses saturate your back, leading them up to your neck once more to leave small love bites. you’re unsure of why he still hasn’t moved yet but you don’t question it, you’re enjoying the moment you two are sharing. it didn’t really feel like you were being sexual with him; more so a passionate intimate bonding that runs deeper than just sex. jungkook loves you intensely and you can feel it in every fibre of his being. the way he holds you, kisses you, pampers you, makes sure you feel like the most beautiful girl in the universe to him. he was so yours. “we don’t even need to fuck, i can stay like this baby.” he rests his head on your shoulder, drinking in the sweetness of your strawberry fragrance. “okay.” you smile, the feeling of him pulsating inside emits a glowing sensation. “as you wish my love.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x f reader #bts smut #jungkook x female reader #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook x you

1K notes · View notes

multi-kpop-fanfics · 4 months

Note

ok so, I just had a brain rot about black cat wonwoo with a ginger cat reader and it’s driving me insane-it could be fluffy or smut or both even

I love your posts btw! I always get so excited when I see you on my feed 🥹🫶

tysm for your love🥺

tw: black cat hybrid!wonwoo, ginger cat hybrid!fem!reader, mean dom!wonwoo, bratty reader, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), mentions of breeding kink, mentions of house damages - minors dni.

"Y/N, for the love of the Christmas spirit, please stay away from the damn tree."

"But I can't! It's impossible!" You shake the garland in your hands. "Everything is so shiny and glittery and UGH!"

"I swear, ginger cats are everyone's worst nightmare during Christmas." Wonwoo sighs audibly.

"You're a cat as well! Aren't you even a little bit tempted to play around?"

"Yeah, but I prefer to listen to the rational part of my brain."

"And what does it say?"

"It says to stop my rare ginger cat girlfriend from destroying the Christmas tree." He snatches the garland from your hands.

"You're mean! A big black mean cat!" Your words come out with a light growl and your tail smacks against your legs rapidly.

"I'm sorry, darling. But cleaning up after tons of glitter and tree remnants will be hell for the both of us."

"But it will be fun if we both participate!"

"Y/N, you literally hate cleaning up."

"At least I tried." You shrug and sit down next to the base of the tree.

You look at the decorations hanging from the branches and your cat urges, mixing with your impish attitude get the better of you and you start toying with the golden balls.

"Y/N, you better not be playing with the decorations."

"I am not! I just fixed a crooked branch." You feign innocence.

You take a peek from your point of view and notice Wonwoo's shirt riding up just enough to see a part of his abdomen and the faint veins over them, while he's stretched to his full height and decorate the upper parts of the tree.

With one rough tug on the bottom branches, you bring down the entire tree and it falls with a loud sound on the floor, a few decorations cracking.

You are sat on the floor when you look up to Wonwoo, whose ears are flattened on his hair and his tail is flapping

"Oopsie." You grin and you spring on your feet to run away from him.

"Get the fuck back here!" He chases you down all the way to the bedroom and jumps on you to pin you down on the mattress.

"I told you to not mess around with the fucking Christmas tree, kitty." He hisses in your ear.

"And I never listen to you." You giggle underneath him and swish your tail over his crotch.

"Ever the bratty ginger kitty, are you?" He sinks his nails in the fabric of your leggings and tears a large hole in them, exposing your bare cunt.

"Of course you weren't wearing panties - no wonder I could smell your damn cunt from a mile."

"What happened to listening to the rational part of your brain, Wonu?" You tease him by pushing your ass on his clothed bulge.

"It flew out of the window the moment I started dating you." He kicks your legs apart and takes out his half hardened cock, climbing on top of you to mount you.

"Do I have to fuck you senseless in order to make you listen? Hm?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Wonwoo pushes his dick in your hole until he's balls deep inside you. "So you say that maybe I should fuck your bratty cunt full of my cum until you're with pretty little kittens?"

You purr softly and arch your lower half upwards in satisfaction, slowly fucking yourself on your boyfriend's cock.

"I'll take that as a yes."

#svthub #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #svt smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen #answered✨#tw hybrid

490 notes · View notes

johnnie-guilberts-eyeliner · 4 months

Text

Pls I love this idea sm thank you anon!

[I probably won't be answering asks in order, I'll most likely just do them as the ideas come to me, but I'll try to get them all done!]

Johnnie X Fem!reader (she/her pronouns used) (and jake and tara are still dating here!)

Context you and johnnie have been dating a little over two years. You live w him and Jake webber.

Today you wake up in your shared bed with johnnie, him still sleeping. You turn over and watch him sleep peacefully, not trying to be creepy. He's just genuinely so beautiful in his sleep and he looks so peaceful. You tuck a strand of his hair behind his pierced up ear and kiss him. This wakes him and he kisses back sweetly and passionately. "Good morning sweetheart" you greet him as he groggily tells you "good morning y/n" before smiling at you and kissing you again. Just then your closest friend in LA, tara yummy (also a fellow youtuber) Burst through the door yelling "ITS NEW YEARS EVE BITCHES, WERE GOING TO A PARTY AND YOU WHORES NEED TO GET READY" she laugh yells at johnnie and you before blowing yall a kiss and leaving the room to get yourself ready. Leaving you and johnnie to laugh for a moment before getting up and starting to get ready. You decide on matching outfits. Johnnie is wearing a white dress shirt, his pinned black leather jacket, black pants with white designs, leather boots and chain for his pants and his normal black eyeliner and eyeshadow. You are wearing a cropped white band shirt, with a short black leather skirt w a chain, fishnets, heeled leather boots, and a black leather jacket with studs and spikes on it. You both have your normal rings and other jewelry on. You straightened your hair and curled a couple pieces before doing your normal makeup/eyeliner with glitter. You snap a picture of your matching new years outfits and post it to your Instagram story. You both walk out of your shared room to find jake and tara ready to go and sitting on the couch. "OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS LOOK SO GOOD AAAH IM OBSESSED" tara squeals as she snaps a picture of you two sends it to you. You laugh before telling her "thank you boo, you look mighty fine today as well i should add" you look at tara as she does a little spin and laughs. Jake watched the interaction and says to johnnie "what's the point of having girlfriends if they just flirt w each other" they both laugh before starting to walk out the door. The girls following suite. Jake's driving, Tara's in the passenger seat with you behind her and johnnie behind jake. "So who's hosting the party this year" you ask jake as he drives. "Sam and colbys this year, since we went to kian and jcs last year" jake says keeping his eyes on the road, then hooking his phone up to the aux and playing a random playlist.

*timeskip a while later*

Everyone is enjoying themselves at the party drinking, smoking, vaping and generally just vibing. Johnnie is by your side the whole night with his fingers intertwined into your fishnets and a drink in the other hand. You and johnnie get many comments and compliments on your matching outfits which makes your heart flutter.

*another timeskip*

Your now sitting on the couch with johnnie next to you. Your leg swung over his, one of his hands on your thigh and the other holding his jack and coke. You take your hand and pull his face to meet yours, pecking his lips. He responded by pecking yours again. Just then you get a text message notification from tara and it's a picture of you and johnnie, literally 2 second ago, kissing. You look up from where you are and see her smiling directly at you two before flashing a thumbs up and continuing doing what she was doing.

As midnight approaches you and johnnie observe everyone getting drunker and drunker, like jake and Kian are currently fighting over a cupcake. Couldn't explain how or why that's happening but it is. You watch the time and see that it's 5 minutes away from midnight. Everyone gathers in the living room with their drinks and/or smoking / vaping device and start counting down. By this Point you and johnnie are now stood up, side by side, hand in hand in the crowd of people.

"5..." they start counting down

"4..." as each second goes by johnnie inches closer to you, his drank sat down somewhere he'll probably forget.

"3..." his arms creep up your thighs to sit comfortably on your waist and he holds eye contact with you

"2...." his gaze is so intense as you snake your hand to hold his face and the other to lay comfortably on his shoulder

"1..." you kiss each other with such passion and love as the countdown ends and all the drunk and high people are cheering and throwing confetti and glitter everywhere. You and johnnie stay kissing for a while longer than you intended. Allowing tara to snap yet other picture of you two, sending it to you again.

After the countdown, people almost immediately start leaving and piling into their cars and ubers. You took Jake's keys hours ago because he's way to drunk to drive and so is tara. Johnnie helps lead the drunk jake out the door and to the backseat of his car, a drunken tara following who is just mumbling and rambling on sits next to jake in the back, laying on his shoulder when she gets in. Johnnie then joins you up front in the passenger seat, pecking your lips before buckling his seat belt.

*yet another timeskip. Youre now at you, Jake's, and Johnnie's. *

You decided tara is spending the night bc she's too drunk to function on her own. After taking care of the drunk couple and making sure they get to bed, you and johnnie resign to your shared room where you both quickly change clothes and crawl into bed together. You laying on Johnnie's chest.

"Happy new year my love" you tell him as you kiss him "happy new year pretty girl" he responds before kissing you again and cuddling into you. This is the way you both end up falling asleep. Which you couldn't be more happy about.

(Lmk if you enjoyed and happy new year everyone!)

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert request

415 notes · View notes

crimsonbubble · 6 months

Text

cw. nsfw, gn!reader with nice tits, johnny has some great tits too, tit fucking, oral, threesome, hair pulling, spit play, snowballing, cum eating *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want to be squished between Johnny’s and Kenshi’s tits pls lord when is it my turn] Kenshi has his eyes in this one- I wrote this with my pussy, not my brain

kinktober masterlist

MINORS DNI!!

The view in front of you was to die for.

Kenshi laid back on the couch, legs spread with his two loves between his thighs pressing and rubbing their tits along his cock. His once pristine button-up was wrinkled and haphazardly unbuttoned, his pants and boxers were around his thighs, and his suit jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, but Kenshi wasn’t too worried about that right now.

You and Johnny simply loved putting on a show; sloppily lapping into each other’s mouths, letting drool spill down your lips just to have the other lap it up. As you and Johnny pushed closer, the warm and wet feeling around Kenshi’s dick only got hotter and tighter. You both pulled away from each other, eyes lidded, breathing heavily and a string of spit connecting your lips.

Johnny looked at Kenshi through his eyelashes, making a big show of swirling his tongue around Kenshi’s tip, wrapping his lips around the leaky head of his cock. You tracked your hand through Johnny’s hair, pushing his head down on Kenshi’s cock. Kenshi bucked his hips up, his cock throbbing as you held Johnny’s head down on his cock. Johnny hollowed his cheeks and swallowed, pulling off of Kenshi’s cock and huffed out a laugh.

You dipped your tongue into Kenshi’s slit, focusing on the head of his dick as Johnny messily kissed along his shaft. Kenshi raked his fingers through your hair, shoving your mouth further onto his cock. You gagged as Kenshi held your mouth to the base, tears glittering in your eyes. Kenshi harshly bucked his hips against your face, his grip on your hair loosening as you pulled off of him.

Not a second was wasted as you all but grabbed Johnny’s head, prying his mouth open with a white-coated tongue. Kenshi moans at the sight, feeling his cock twitch. He watched you lap at each other’s tongues again, swallowing down the seed he filled your mouth with. Johnny all but moaned into your mouth, letting the sticky mess dribble down his chin. Kenshi sucked in a sharp breath, his cock pulsing and hardening again at the show playing out just for him.

#bubbly writes <3 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x you #mk smut #kenshi x reader #kenshi x you #johnny x kenshi #johnny cage smut #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #kenshi takahashi smut #kenshi smut #johnshi x reader

533 notes · View notes

starzwithapen · 5 months

Text

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

JOHN DORY / READER ☆ START A LOVE TRAIN

જ⁀➴.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚.

☆Summary: John Dory's first meeting with Rhonda and her owner, you!

☆Content: reader is gender neutral, first meeting!! Gonna make a part 2 exploring their relationship more :3

☆a/n: I FUCKING HATE HIM [affectionate] my first worrkk pls leave feedback if youd like it helps a ton!! :3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘˗ˏˋ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˎˊ˗∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The day John Dory met you and Rhonda was simultaneously one of the worst and best days of his life.

He'd been hiking- nothing out of the ordinary for him, maybe one venomous spider he'd had to fight off, but so far so good! The sting of the cold air against his cheeks quelled his thoughts, made him feel accomplished, in a way.

But he must've been distracted- he was a little more careless than usual, overestimating his own strength and struggling to pull himself upwards, his legs dangling over the edge- he could feel a tick of nerves in the back of his mind, but pfftt, John Dory's got this! He's done this a million times-

Next thing he knows, the rock holding his legs up collapses, and down he goes with it, tumbling over harsh terrain while the wind rushing past his ears drowns out his yelling.

After many very painful seconds of straight up rolling down this cliff, John Dory groans in pain, dusting himself off and pushing himself upwards, except- oh, shit, okay, ow, something’s very wrong with his ankle.

He hisses and grabs onto the skin, pulling his goggles up to inspect it- it appears swollen, and he realises with a frustrated groan that he'd managed to twist his ankle miles away from the nearest safe-house.

Well- looks like he'll have to camp outside for the night, wouldn't be the first nor last time, but it'll be significantly more difficult with a leg that refuses to cooperate with you.

He rushes through setting up camp, wanting to just sleep the pain off till his foot got better, but just as he sets his head down on the pile-of-leaves-that-vaguely-resemble-a-pillow, he hears distant rustling.

That's not odd- it'd be weirder for the forest to be quiet, if anything, animals are always trudging along no matter the time of day- what's odd is how loud the sound is, feet papping against the floor in heavy strides, coming closer and closer towards him.

John Dory sits up in a flash, suddenly regretting how shittily he'd camouflaged his camp- his eyes widen towards the oncoming noise, having just enough time to snatch a stick and hold it out threateningly, though his hands shake and tremble.

“Hey! I have a- uh, a really sharp stick, and I'm not afraid to use iiIIITTT-”

The stick goes flying out of his grasp, and he gets the breath absolutely slammed out of him as something huge jumps onto him, rumbling atop him and- eugh, was it licking him?! Was this how he died, after all these years?! Eaten alive by a-

“Down, girl- stop that, you're scaring him!” the thing finally lets up on trying to swallow him whole, standing back on its hind-legs and cooing at you excitedly, and it's then that he notices you.

“Gods, I'm really sorry- she's not usually like this-” you reach over with a grimace to wipe the wet mess of saliva and glitter off his cheeks with your sleeve, and all JD can do is stare at you, star-struck. One minute he was facing his impending doom, and now he was facing the prettiest person he'd ever set his eyes on, and though he's certain it's night time he feels as though you're shining the sun's rays straight at him.

You smile nervously and pat his attacker's leg, “She wasn't actually going to eat you- or at least I don't think she was? You can never quite tell with Rhonda.”

Okay, John Dory had lived on his own amongst nothing but the trees and mountains for years, so excuse him for not being particularly eloquent when all he blurts out is “John.”

You and Rhonda blink at him comically for a moment, and he feels his cheeks flush under his fur-lined vest. No one's ever caught him off gaurd like this before.

“That's…not my name, but good guess anyways.” You check over him as if he's concussed, and he tries not to frown at the scrunch in your nose as you take in his camp.

“It's my name- John Dory.” He flashes you a charming smile, though he assumes the effects are dampened by the mess of glitter and dirt still smeared across his face, “and can I get yours, or can I just call you mine?”

Silence stretches on between you both, his smile getting more strained by the minute- why hadn't that worked? That always worked, at least when Spruce did it! You were supposed to be- swooning, or something! Not looking at him like he's sprouted a second head!

You cut through the tension with a gasp, and he follows your gaze down to his badly-damaged leg, now with extra bloodied scrapes, “Oh god, that looks rough- did Rhonda do this?” He doesn't have time to tell you that no, actually, it wasn't your fault, when you turn around and scold your…armadillo? He feels his lips quirk up- you looked pretty cute like that, like a disgruntled parent.

“Well, you can come inside and I'll wrap it up for you- you shouldn't leave it out in the open like that.” You wave him over, grabbing onto his hand to pull him into the door, and he feels his skin burn pleasantly where you both touch.

And that's how it starts. JD walks inside the armadillo bus, Rhonda, marvelling at the warmth. Though you hadn't given him your name yet, he felt as though he could trust you- you seemed like someone who values honor and helping others, however bluntly or awkwardly you may go about it.

You wrap his leg with gauze and a healing salve, and he fills the room with chatter- it'd been so long since he'd last seen another soul, he didn't realise just how…lonely he'd felt. You don't speak much of yourself, probably staying cautious, but you do seem curious about his stories, and the twinkle in your eye urges him to speak with a little more pomp than usual.

Your voice turns more concerned as you ask what he'd been doing camping out in the open like that- he'd told you of the trail he planned to follow, though he'd skipped the part where he fell off-course. He tells you of how he'd wanted to end up somewhere warmer by the time winter really hit, sighing to himself. “I'll just have to stock up on fire-wood, maybe invest in a flame-thrower.”

“I mean….we can take you there.” You offer in a quiet voice, your gaze stubbornly set on the floor, “It's still a pretty long drive, but better than 2 months walking on a sprained ankle, especially with how gnarly it looks.”

John Dory's conflicted- the offer sounds heavenly. He pictures waking up to your warmth day by day, helping you gather breakfast, travelling with a companion, for once, but….he'd left to the middle of nowhere for a reason. He wanted to distance himself from his old habits, his old expectations of himself and others.

Though….you seemed to be just as- if not more- capable than him. He wouldn't need to be a pillar for you to lean all your weight against, nor the pressure that turns coal into shining diamond- you two could simply…have each other's backs. Maybe…maybe this could work out, at least for a little while.

John Dory tilts his head up and takes one look at your welcoming smile to make up his mind.

"Can't say no to your pretty face, now can I?"

This time you snicker behind your hand at his awful flirting, but he catches it just in time- and he knows this'll be the start of something great.

#john dory x reader #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls john dory x reader #x reader #ok sorry I dont like putting stuff in main tags </3 thats it for tags #starzwrites #PLS LEAVE FEEDBACK IT HELPS A LOT !!#i hope this was enjoyable even tho it was shorter than I wanted :[ had to split into 2 parts ....

500 notes · View notes