Tumgik
#there was so many to pick from but these are my favorite so sorry for not including anyone's favs
redroomreflections · 2 days
Text
II HANDS II HEAVEN 5
Tumblr media
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.
W/c: 3.2k
“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests. 
“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?” 
She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal. 
You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?” 
 "Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.
“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."
You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."
It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.
"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.
Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."
You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.
Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good." 
You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.
“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car.  With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door. 
“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point.  “Don’t turn around.” She warned you. 
You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.
The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace. 
Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"
You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"
Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing. 
You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."
“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair. 
Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face. 
You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."
“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged. 
Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."
***********
The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.
Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.
“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”
Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown. 
“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”
“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”
Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.  
You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance. 
A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.
She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway. 
Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.
“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.
The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."
“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”
"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.
"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."
"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"
"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."
“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. 
"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.” 
Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."
Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."
“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”
“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you. 
*******************
For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar. 
His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.
He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff. 
"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."
"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area. 
Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you. 
“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name. 
“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her. 
“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.” 
Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"
Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."
Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol. 
“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat. 
As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting. 
“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.
“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.
Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.
As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled. 
Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you. 
“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow. 
Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark. 
"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."
“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth. 
Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.
"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."
"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.
Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle.  "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."
"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."
"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.
“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."
You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."
As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen. 
"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.
"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"
Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.
As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite. 
This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.
Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.
As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.
But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.
"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."
"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”
“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath. 
Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.
You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug. 
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.” 
“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly. 
“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair. 
So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun. 
Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.
Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.
213 notes · View notes
discotitsposts · 2 days
Text
needs more sugar
spencer reid x reader
making chamomile tea with spencer
inspired by me making chamomile tea in the morning
Tumblr media
When Spencer gets home from his latest case with the BAU, his entire body is sore. He had chased an unsub down and had been pushed down the stairs by him. When he sees you, a small smile creeps onto his face. He forces himself to sit down in his favorite chair. Wincing as he does so.
You walk in and see your husband slumped over and in pain.
“I was just making some tea, darling. Would you like some?” You smile sweetly and give him a kiss.
“If you don’t mind that would be nice.” He smiles and kisses you back.
“Not a problem.” You walk back to the kitchen when you see Spencer trying to stand up.
“What are you doing?!”
“I want to help you!” He protests.
“Sit!” You order.
He obeys and picks up a book and begins reading.
“Uh,” He starts as you’re walking away, “could you make sure to add a lot of sugar?”
“I know how you like your tea, dear.” When you’re back in the kitchen you reach for your favorite mug. It has Spencer’s face on it. Then you grab his favorite, it has a picture of you on it. Penelope had gotten them for you as a wedding gift.
You heat up the water and get out a fresh lemon, honey, and sugar. Lots of sugar.
As you’re letting the tea steep you stare at Spencer from the little window in the kitchen overlooking the living room.
You admire the way he quickly runs his finger down the page while reading. His slender hands moving faster than one’s mind could comprehend.
You add lemon and some honey to both the teas and add 5 packets of sugar for Spencer. You only used two for yourself. When you’re done stirring, you bring it to him.
“Thank you, dear. How was your day?” He carefully takes the cup from you and smiles when he sees the mug.
“Work was good, I had a short day, when I came home I took a shower and a nap.” You tell him, sipping your own tea. “Is the tea good?” You ask.
Spencer nervously bites his lip. “Needs more sugar. Sorry.”
“It’s fine! How many more packets would you like?”
“4.” He confesses. You bring him the desired amount of sugar and he dumps all four into his tea. His spoon clinking the side of the cup as he stirs it in. “Thanks.”
He notices you staring at him lovingly. “Is there something on my face?” He jokes.
“No but there should be.”
“What do you mean?” He’s genuinely confused.
“Me. I should be on your face.” You joke. He continues staring in confusion.
A look of realization hits him. “Ohh if you’re gonna talk like that we’re going to have to take this to the bedroom.” He chuckles and motions you to sit on his lap.
You pick up your mug and reach for his hand. He picks his mug up and takes your hand.
You lead him to the bedroom and lay down with him. When you’ve both finished your teas, you snuggle together. Eventually you both fall into a deep sleep.
Spencer forgets all his work troubles, all the aches in his body when he’s with you.
the end 💘
to anyone who reads this, this is for u! -
Tumblr media
tags- 🍓
@whoisspence
@lemonadeinfuser
@fictionalobssed
@exoticisles
@in-another-april
@gallifreyan-idiocracy
(if anyone else would like to be tagged whenever i post you can just let me know either by dm or comment a 🍓!)
160 notes · View notes
lieslab · 1 day
Text
Teacher's pet
Tumblr media
꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Chan X gn reader
Summary: Chan finds you late at night struggling with the realization that your high school teacher groomed you.
Genre: Angst with comfort/hurt
Word Count: 3.9K
Trigger warning: Grooming, pedophilia, abuse of power via manipulation, mentions of sex, rape, and sexual assault.
A/N: To the requester for this one, I tried my best while writing this. I did quite a bit of research with this topic. This is incredibly heavy stuff. I'm sorry that this happened to you and to the rest of you, if you've ever gone through something similar, I'm so sorry. Grooming is horrible and I wish it was one of the many things that didn't exist in the world. I hope this can provide, even if it's just a sliver, some sort of comfort <3
_ _ _
When Chan came home from work, you were missing. The two of you had shared an apartment for quite a while. You both went half and half for everything. Living with a roommate made everything cheaper. 
“Where are you?” Chan called out. He let his knuckles fall against your bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal nothing. 
Your bed was messy and unmade. Your favorite color of bedding was twisted and one of your pillows was nearly tipping onto the floor. A half-smile came over Chan’s face as he picked it up and placed it back in its proper spot. 
It seemed like you were missing, until he realized your bedroom window was unlocked. So you must have climbed out onto the roof. This late at night, it was a treacherous and dangerous task, but you still managed. 
You managed to find the footholes in the darkness. In your worn sneakers, you scaled up the two story building and sat up on the fired clay. It wasn’t the best idea, but the roof was where you could breathe. 
You and Chan came out here at night all the time. When life became too heavy and you needed fresh air, this was where you went. He came out here to come up with new lyrics and song ideas. 
It wasn’t often that the two of you crossed paths on the roof. When you did, the two of you sat in your respective spots. Chan sat on the left and you sat on the right. Your legs dangled over the edge and the moon hung high up in the sky. 
Dotted with freckled constellations and the occasional shooting star, you were at ease up here. The air smelled faintly sweet and floral from the cherry blossom trees. In your opinion, they smelled better up here.
The busy traffic of Seoul slowed to a crawl late at night. Most of the time, there’d barely be anyone out here. When they drove by, the faint hum of the accelerator and the occasional huff of gasoline or diesel drifted by. 
This time of night, it was wondrous. The grass was starting to grow again and this was the first time you had been up here since winter. The iciness and chill made the roof tiles too slick to climb. 
On the roof, you let your legs dangle down and your ankles hung off the edge. Chan pried his fingers beneath your window panel and pushed it up. He stuck his head out and reached up.
You stayed still at the sound of stirring from below. Chan climbed up the side of the building and onto his side of the roof. With a groan, he dropped his body onto the cracking tile. 
Your eyes briefly darted towards him before they went back and refound the distance across the way. He must have just got back from the studio. He was still in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching zip-up hoodie. 
His calves were illuminated by the white moonlight. He rubbed them a few moments and curled his legs up while mimicking your own posture. 
Your legs were tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. The natural line of your mouth drooped down a little more tonight. There was a glassiness to your eyes, as if you were holding back tears. 
When Chan realized it, he frowned, but he didn’t want to pry. “Rough night?” He offered weakly. 
All you could do was nod without a word. Sometimes reality was like a shard of glass. Swallowing it left your throat hoarse and mangled. It shredded the slippery sides of your esophagus and tore all the way down. The ache and burn left behind was embedded in your brain and it’d always linger like a shadow. 
“Wanna talk about it?” Chan offered. 
You shook your head and kept your gaze to the distance. If you looked at him, you’d break down and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to forget about this dark period in your life. You wanted to toss out the memories and let them drift away in the wind; never able to hurt you ever again, but memories are not like dust, they’re much more like syrup. 
You can scrub and scrape, but there will always be sticky parts left behind and between the intricate folds of your brain. You can dig and claw, but some memories will be there until the end of time; small annoying bits that are just out of reach. 
“Hmm, okay.” Chan slung a hand over his opposite wrist. The two of you sat for a few moments until a dimpled grin stretched across his face. “What if I offered you your favorite popsicle?” 
You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He let out a small giggle and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. When he pulled it out, he was gripping the familiar packaging of your favorite popsicle flavor.
That must have been the reason why he came up here to begin with. Sometimes the two of you would get things for one another. He must have been unable to wait for you to come down, so he went up. 
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble as you gently pulled it from his hand. 
“You can thank me by telling me what’s got you so glum.” He pulled out another popsicle from his other pocket and began to unpeel it. “You know me, I won’t judge you.” He flashed you a reassuring smile before he tore open the wrapper. 
“I know.” 
“Then what is it?” He couldn’t help himself. He was so curious and he was dying to know. It was an itch that couldn't be scratched enough. “What’s on your mind? Hmm?” He shifted closer to you and took a bite of his frozen treat. 
Your lips pressed together and you debated on telling him. The topic was one you had never told him about and it would be a tough conversation for the two of you to have. You sucked in a deep breath before you released it. 
“It’s um…it’s quite a conversation. It’s a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
Chan laughed, “how bad could it really be?” 
“I loved him,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed on your treat while you slowly began to unwrap it. 
“Who?” 
“My teacher.” 
It was slightly melted from where it pressed against the warmth of Chan’s skin. You remembered how warm skin could be. After all, you felt the contact of another human far more than you wanted to when you were younger. 
Chan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I loved some of my teachers too. My favorite one was my second grade teacher. What’s the big deal?” 
“No,” you shook your head, “I loved him.” 
“Like…crushing?” 
You sucked in a deep breath and shut your eyes. “It was more than that. It was so much more and there’s a whole story involved. It’s a messy situation that still has me pretty screwed up. I wish he didn’t control me anymore, but…” 
You bit your lip trying not to cry. Ever since you found out that the high school teacher, who had groomed you, had gotten married, it was killing you. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one who married him. He talked about it all the time. 
Chan pulled his half-consumed popsicle away from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, he took in the distress on your face. His lips puckered together before he went on. “Did something happen?” 
“I fell in love with him.” 
“Your teacher?” 
“And you know what the worst part is?” Glossy tears began to fill your eyes. “I really believed he loved me back.” 
Chan stayed silent and attempted to put all the pieces together. The things you were saying weren’t adding up. There was no way you had a thing with your teacher as a kid. No fucking way. He would have known and you would have told him. 
He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.” 
“It started at the beginning of high school. I had the most amazing math teacher. He was young and he was charming. He couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties. He looked like he walked straight out of Hollywood.” 
“The very first assignment he assigned was a get to know me project. He knew I lived with my mom because I mentioned that my dad had been killed in a car accident. I was a kid and that grief was still so new. I was grieving and so was my mom.” 
Chan nodded and let you continue. 
“And then not too long after that, he’d start asking me to stay after class, so he could help me with a few lessons. It was fine in the beginning, I was just a student who needed some extra help, but it escalated.” 
The popsicle was beginning to melt down your hand, but you didn’t care. It oozed across your thumb and caressed your wrist. If you paid too close attention, you could still feel his warm callouses brush against your soft skin. 
“And that’s when the touching began.” 
“The touching?” 
“It was innocent, I swear. He’d come up behind me and began to rub my shoulders while I worked on problems. He’d bend down and whisper his advice into my ear.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. Involuntarily, your body was reliving everything. Goosebumps slipped down your arms and a chill swept across your spine. 
“Despite how weird it was, I didn’t mind it. Things continued and he made me feel wanted. Over time, he started to get permission from my mom to bring me home. He used to ask about my dad. Apparently, he lost his own dad when he was a kid, so he knew how it felt.” 
Chan felt nothing, but disgust. He wanted to plug his ears and he wanted you to stop. How old were you during that time? Thirteen? Maybe fourteen at the latest? You were just a kid. 
“I missed my dad so much and he was so kind. I loved the extra attention. During class, he’d brush an arm against me and mutter an apology. He’d let his hand drag across my desk a little longer than normal as he collected my paper with a smile.” 
“I-I don’t know. I just really liked how he made me feel and I know-” Your voice cut off. The lump in your throat sat there like a boulder. “I know it wasn’t right, but at the time, I adored everything about it.” 
You wiped an arm across your eyes and kept your fingers wrapped around the popsicle stick with the other hand. Your fingers had gone white around the wooden stick. Reliving all of it was like a knife in the chest. 
“There was one day where I was in his car. He started to attend all my sporting events to cheer me on. My mom was sick, so she asked if he could drive me there. I-I know how awful it is, but he asked me if I ever had intercourse.” 
Chan’s voice stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. How could he not know about this? How long had you been burying this pain inside? 
“And then when I said no-” 
His heart dropped. 
“He said he could show me, so I knew what to do.” 
And then it shattered. His own tears began to creep up in his eyes. You were just a kid, at that age, you were practically a goddamn baby. How dare someone in such a privileged position hurt you like that. 
He was a teacher and you were his student. There was a position of power over you. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it was morally fucked. 
He wanted to throw up. The sweet burst of cold popsicle faded from his tongue. Now the artificial sweetness wanted to make him vomit. He wanted to bend over and throw up. 
After a few moments, despite it all, he finally got out the words he was afraid to ask. “Did he…you know?” 
When you didn’t respond, he already knew. It crushed his heart. His lungs were on fire and they had burst. An indescribable bright blue rage had ignited. It burned hot enough that it could melt towns and murder platoons of fully armed men. 
“Your teacher raped you,” he whispered. 
“It wasn’t like that, I said yes and I-” 
“You were a child!” His voice flew out stern. “You were a child and he was a teacher! He should have never put his filthy hands on you! That goddamn bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!” The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks faster. “How long did this go on for?” 
“Years,” you weakly got out. “It stopped a few months after I graduated. He said that he needed space. He said it wasn’t working out. He said I-I wasn’t good enough anymore. He said so many things.” 
Chan silently did math in his head. He remembered that when he met you, you had graduated nearly a year prior. The two of you were around the same age at the time, but that was years ago. It must have been shortly after the fact. 
“And where is he now?” 
“Still teaching.” 
“I- Huh? What?” 
“He’s still at the same school and teaching the same grade. He just recently got married to a girl that graduated a few months ago.” 
Chan closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his raging blood pressure. It wouldn’t help either of you, but he was furious. He probably did the same thing to that girl that he did to you. He probably groomed her too and it made him want to scream and throw something. He wasn’t okay with people taking advantage of others and, specifically, more younger people. 
You sniffled and stared out at the distant neon lights. A silence grew between the two of you and you knew you hurt Chan’s feelings. You didn’t mean to, but you needed to get it all out. 
“How do you feel about it now?” 
You paused for a moment thinking about his words. “I feel so ugly. I feel like I was used and then tossed to the side. I know it sounds bad, but I wish I still had his validation. I still crave it even though it’s been years.” 
“I’m really sorry you went through that. It’s a tough situation and you were a kid. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know and I-” 
“But I did know. I knew what was going on and I wanted it to happen. I liked him and it made me feel good. It made me feel loved, so he didn’t groom me and it’s my fau-” 
“Don’t make excuses for him!” Chan’s voice went shrill. “He was a grown man and you were a child! You were a baby! You were just growing into becoming your own person and starting high school!” 
“Don’t you dare give him another excuse. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He should have had the intelligence to stay away from you and never pursue you like that. He’s sick!” 
“Y-You don’t get it.” 
“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re letting this man get away with this disgusting behavior. What about that girl, huh? What about that girl he married? If another teacher was sleeping with a fourteen year old, would that be okay?” 
“No! No! Of course not, but things were dif-” 
“You were groomed,” Chan cut you off. Tears streamed down his face. The popsicle was long gone from his hand. Instead, it melted into a puddle on the warm roof tile. “You are a victim in this whole scenario.” 
“But I-” 
“You are. You are a victim and I will not stop saying it because it’s clear you’ve been brainwashed. You were a child and you didn’t know any better. You were put in an adult scenario when you were a child. You were taken advantage of by a pedophile. Do you hear me?” 
Angry tears of frustration poured down his cheeks. He hated that you were blaming yourself for this situation. He hated that you couldn’t see the situation like he could. The grooming had worked on you. So blinded, the truth was skewered in your eyes. 
“I will never shut up about it. You were sexually assaulted and raped by a pedophile. You were a child and I don’t care how nice he was. I don’t care if he bribed you with compliments and the affection your life lacked.” 
“If you had a fourteen year old kid now, what would you think? If this same thing happened to them? If they came home and announced they had sex with their high school teac-” 
“Stop!” You cried as you squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s different! It’s entirely different! Stop it! Stop it!” 
“Then tell me what the difference is.” 
“The difference was that it was me! I was mature for my age and I-” Your eyes reopened to look at Chan. 
The way he was looking at you now, it was killing you. The glassy eyes and the furrowed eyebrows. There was anger looming in that russet brown. The moonlight reflected off them and bounced it back towards you. 
You couldn’t help it as your exterior began to crack. Like an egg, pieces of shell were ripped away. Your bottom lip trembled and you struggled to get out the next few words. 
“T-The difference is that I just wanted to be loved by a father figure. I-I missed my dad so much and I-” You didn’t get a chance to finish because you burst into sobs. 
It was overwhelming as you cried. The stickiness still stuck to your hand. The liquified popsicle drizzled down the clay tiles and dripped off the roof. This hurt buried inside was killing you. You remembered all of it. 
You remembered how uncomfortable you were when his chapped lips met yours. You remembered the way his fingers tightened against your hips. Puberty was still relatively new to you and you were trying to grow more into your developing body. 
Your limbs were a little longer. There was more weight in places there hadn’t been before. It was only the start of freshman year. You were new to high school and things were much different. 
You remembered how much it hurt the first time. How you were left to fend for yourself in a puddle of your own warm blood. A little fearful, you remembered the growing disgust you felt deep inside yourself, but you thought it was normal. 
You couldn’t get your innocence back. Society was cruel when it came to such a thing. You weren’t pure anymore, you were infected and diseased. You were as filthy as the rest of them. A fallen angel who had lost their wings. 
If your mother ever would have known, she would have lost it. You always grew up being told sexual intimacy was something that happened a lot later in life, but you were so mature for your age. At least, that’s what your teacher said. 
He liked the way your body looked. You were young, you were fresh, you were nothing, but a docile little lamb. With your sparkling doe-eyes, you were nothing, but a toy for him. 
Your skin was unmarked by anyone before him. You were so young and naive. You were malleable and pliable; perfect for a hungry wolf like himself. The young lambs always have the cleanest and purest blood; they always taste the sweetest. 
You wanted love, he wanted pleasure. You wanted affection, he craved attention. You wanted a father, he wanted your freshly ripened body; straight from the vine, you were plucked for him and him alone. 
What a perfect and sweet peach that you were. So ripe, so delectable, not a bruise detected on your delicate flesh. And your juice, how irresistible you were. 
Plucked from the vine, yanked from the others, and taken a bite out of. When you were old enough, you were tossed to the ground. It was there where you rotted with the other withering peaches.
You fermented a soft sweetness for the flies until you withered brown and green. You withered away in the scorching sun. Your once soft skin writhed and squirmed until you decomposed into the dirt to be walked over again and again and again. 
You had never felt quite right since then. You searched for love in the wrong places. You fell to your knees and begged for an ounce of love. Nobody could fill you and supply you with enough love as your teacher had. 
He told you just enough to keep you happy. After a while of teaching a dog a new trick, you don’t have to teach them anymore. You grew to learn what he liked and disliked. It was a toxic tornado filled with an improper power dynamic. 
He didn’t care about the sticky hands and half-melted popsicles anymore. Chan gently grabbed your forearm and pulled your body towards him. Your shoes scraped along the cracked tile. 
Beneath the moonlight, you fell apart as Chan’s hands wrapped around you. Unlike your teacher, his hands didn’t roam your body. They didn’t search for sexual pleasure. He didn’t use your body for his advantage. His arms wrapped around your back and they stayed there. 
He soothed you softly and rocked you back and forth trying to comfort you. He had no doubt that you were exhausted. This was a lot to share with anyone and that included him. He continued to rock you and placed his chin on the top of your head. 
He’d sway all night if he had to. He’d sing you a soft lullaby and lure you to sleep. He’d keep away anyone who dared to lay a rotten finger on you. 
In a few hours, the moon would be replaced with sunlight. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Your sobs began to turn into quick hiccups. He kept his arms around you and quietly cooed. 
He needed to find you someone to talk to. Your perception of everything was still warped. The past still had its claws on you. You were still under the illusion your teacher had created. You were a victim, but he was determined to help you become a survivor. 
You were so strong. You had hid this from him for years. As your hiccups began to fade away, he gently placed his lips on the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you. 
No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d remind you how much he loved you over and over again. He’d continue to show you what real love was. Again and again, he’d show you until one day, you realized what healthy love truly looked like.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Masterlist
Requests, taglist, and inbox rules
74 notes · View notes
cha-melodius · 1 day
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks to @ninzied for the tag!
How many works do you have on ao3?
120!
What's your total ao3 word count?
1,371,932
What fandoms do you write for?
RWRB, TMFU, Lokius
Top five fics by kudos:
Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood
Nova, Baby
Class(room) Warfare
All the Old Showstoppers
Always Where I Need To Be
Do you respond to comments?
I try. I used to be very good at responding but my backlog has gotten extreme (1491 unanswered comments as of right now, if you're curious) so at this point I pretty much only answer if it's a chapter in an ongoing multichap, or someone asks a question.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I have a caradin fic that's straight up a break-up fic with no resolution, but I still feel like my angstiest is probably Black Moon (napollya), because they're in love but the situation is so fucking bleak. Sorry guys.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Any of them that end with a proposal lol? I've got a lot of fluffy fics and all of my long fics end with pure fluff, so I don't think I could pick out one.
Do you get hate on fics?
I have been lucky not to really get any, at least lately. I've gotten... less than polite comments, of course, but no outright hate (knock on wood).
Do you write smut?
Yes, although I would not say it's an integral part of my writing tbh.
Craziest crossover:
Craziest might be Maybe, This Time, which is a Mandalorian/BSG crossover that involves dimension-hopping lol.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! I've had a few of my TMFU works translated and now there's someone in the RWRB fandom that translates most (!!) of my fics into Mandarin, which is mind blowing and flattering and I'm so grateful because I've gotten comments from people who have read them translated and loved them.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet!
All time favorite ship?
I don't think I can pick one; some of my past ships are just that—past—but there are a few I will carry in my heart forever.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
If I want to finish it, I will, even if it takes a long time. I might stop wanting to finish a wip, but that's not the question is it?
What are your writing strengths?
Banter/dialogue, action, pacing, plots. People have told me that they can picture my scenes like a movie because of the description and that makes me feel good.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Although I have my moments, I don't really tend to think of my writing as beautiful. I'm just not that poetic/lyrical.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Sure! If it's in my own fic I usually have a native speaker look over it (I haven't done this lately but I have gotten Russian consults for TMFU fics).
First fandom you wrote in?
Xena: Warrior Princess, back when that show was airing. Fanfic primarily distributed over internet mailing lists and posted on your own website.
Favorite fic you've written?
Stealing Nina's idea and doing one in each of my main fandoms I've written in because it's hard to pick (even then this was rough).
Nova, Baby Series—Spy AU, Firstprince
Love is a Losing Game—Chess AU, Napollya (SHOCKER I KNOW)
What Makes a Good Man Series—Spy AU, Lokius
Here It Goes Again—The Mandalorian (Caradin but mostly Din character study in a time loop)
I'm not sure who's been tagged and who hasn't or even everyone who has done this, but a few tags below the cut. If you'd like to do it, jump in!
@kiwiana-writes, @rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, @cricketnationrise, @14carrotghoul
@leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @inexplicablymine, @firenati0n, @liminalmemories21
@orchidscript, @sparklepocalypse, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @heytheredeann
@nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @myheartalivewrites
18 notes · View notes
goryhorroor · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2010s horror girls
11K notes · View notes
skyland2703 · 1 year
Note
What Javelia fics do you recommend? A variety of wholesome and naughty 😉
Now this is a topic I have ✨expertise✨ in. But sure as heck I’m gonna include ANGST, FLOOF, SMUT AND a shit ton of hurt/comfort!!
Do I start this list with my own fic? Heck yes because this one’s literally an epic; angst filled, fluffy, and whatnot~
One of the best series I’ve seen with them, is a “all the hints Dino Fury dropped about Javelia” sort of thing,
And my personal favorite from this series is Fever Dreamers but I’d 100% recommend checking out the entire series.
Another one that absolutely owns my heart is this
Do I like sickfics? Yes. And here’s some of the best best BEST:
Somewhat twin to this, though much darker, by the same author, we have the 'High Ground' situation, just as heartwrenching </3333 (the hurt/comfort is HUGE here!!!)
Another couple of twin fics that do not pop up in the Javi/Amelia Tag because they’re in the Javi & Amelia tag, but I think fit the bill here are these: I ADORE these two fics, the littlest details just tug at the heart strings 💖
This one’s a canon fix it AND I LOVE IT TO DEATH AAAAAIIIIIII
Wattpad is Notorious for having bad FanFiction, but there’s a good collection of Javelia on there, and this would be my #1 pick if you had to go on there. Still incomplete, but aiiiiiiiiii Q_Q
They have SO MUCH hurt/comfort fics it’s making me go :3 here’s another one that’s set in cosmic + SOULMATE AU
And tumblr won't let me add proper links anymore, so here we have these PURE FLOOF fics, fluff fluffy floofy floof:
Night Go Slow enjoying the breeze Blanket Nights The Squishmallows (Plushie fic) Black Ink//Pink Sheets (Love Letters) Shut Down the City Lights What Am I, If Not Yours? (Wedding Fic) JavElia's One Shots (Oneshots collection :3 FLOOFIEST SHEET)
And some more hurt/comfort ANGST
A Toxic Relationship Is Never A Good Relationship Dwelling In My Past  Truth Behind the Lies Afterlife  draggle tailed guttersnipes Can't Promise Not to Cry I Need You to Stay  Silent Broken Hearts  And what do you make of THAT 
And smut, lastly, smut, smut, smut
a rolling stone gathers no moss  there's gold in the water see if we can hold on a little longer  And this series with hhhhh 8-9 more smut fics???? Aaaiiiii pick yours~
Final observation: I am not capable of giving an unbiased opinion—they have. way. wayyyy too much Hurt/Comfort fics Q_Q I LOVE MY BABIES I LOVE HOW MUCH EVERYONE LOVES BREAKING THEM DOWN SO THEY CAN PICK EACH OTHER UUUPPPPPPP—
12 notes · View notes
quinintheclouds · 2 years
Text
Dorothea Gillim really went "I want to make a show that's so funny I'd unironically watch it, but for kids. I know! I'll hire writers from Family Guy, The Onion, and SNL!"
Add some A List voice actors and let them riff a bit, and that's how you get the chaotic satirical shitposty masterpiece that is WordGirl
#wordgirl#quinpost#seriously her goal was for the comedy to be the main thing and it's so funny my guy#I mean the show is self-described as satirical and a parody... and the 4th wall is practically non existent lmao#they're just like let's make a crazy plot with amazing characters and comedy as a priority and then add some vocab#like I'm sorry but this is 10x better than family guy; y'all are getting praised for the wrong show XD#no wonder it was my favorite show as a kid.... rewatching it was such a good decision#like I knew the show was hilarious as a kid but as an adult I'm able to see SO MUCH MORE bc I get the satire now#it's so meta and self-aware#ahead of its time truly#if it came out today it'd be so big on tumblr lmao#ok but why do we treat PBS Kids shows as less than cable shows?#like they're targeted to the same age but one happens to be educational#(and free.... hmmmmmmmm)#you know how many words I learned from wordgirl that weren't even featured words? they just use them and you pick em up from context clues#one of the earliest featured words was 'cumbersome' and man I used that word so much as a kid bc of it XD#they never should've taught me flabbergasted though; i still use that one all the time hgjkl;'#i'd actually forgotten what 'stimy' meant so my rewatch actually taught me a word at age 24 sdfghj#and I read the dictionary more than once as a kid#see? it IS possible to make kids shows that DON'T talk down to kids!! It's written like it's adults watching; just that the jokes are clean#cannot recommend enough; it deserves the attention it's getting and more
97 notes · View notes
glitterhoof · 11 months
Text
uhm okay IF i had a YouTube channel would u guys watch me maybe. im thinking of showcasing my ponies and / or toy rescues and giving general info on them AND cleaning them up or just maybe i dont know, playing with it!???
8 notes · View notes
cryptvokeeper · 9 months
Text
Man. I wanna talk abt Rise Leo again now
#I’m SORRY it’s not my fault I picked the one everyone gets really annoying about as my favorite#No bro I’m different bro I swear bro wait please-#It’s like. I got bait-and-switched SO HARD with Leo on my first watch#I went in essentially blind outside of like. Basic knowledge of what a teenage mutant ninja turtle IS from cultural osmosis#But I didn’t know these characters I had no expectations#So I watched Minotaur Maze & I see the cocky blue jokester character whos worse than the rest of the cast and has a hint(TM) of insecurity#and I went “oh. Ive seen this character type before. This is the Lance voltron. This is the early-seasons sokka. I know how this goes.”#And I’m sort of at the point in my life where I’m over that trope Yknow? It was cool when I was 15 and hated myself but now that’s old hat.#So I didn’t care for Leo that much#And then I get to Many Unhappy Returns and that whole perception gets FLIPPED ON ITS HEAD#I REALIZE IVE BEEN PLAYED#TRICKED#BAMBOOZLED#The confidence wasn’t a ruse at all! and that reframes so much from season one and so much going forward!!!#He’s a cocky magnificent bastard and would probably be a badass hero if he gave a shit but instead is only here to be silly with his fam#And that’s AWESOME#But anyway I feel like most people never had that bait and switch moment#They just moved forward with the belief that Leo’s is a bit of a loser and hates himself for it#And then fandom does what fandom do and hyperfocuses on that one trait to the point of mischaracterization#And I’m sitting here like “I love all the content for my blorbo but oh no a lot of it’s weird and off”#Rottmnt
6 notes · View notes
arthur-r · 1 year
Text
actual footage of the smallest dance imaginable. a hundred people bought tickets which is. not a lot for an entire seven cities worth of students in a school. and then there was maybe fifty people total in the building at the most filled up time cause so many people just used the tickets as donating to charity and didn’t even want to go
#was excited to come home and laugh at the dance and then it just got a little much toward the end#but i still think it was pretty funny. also there were so many songs that literally no one there knew??#my friends begged the dj (social studies teacher) to skip songs no one was dancing to and they wouldn’t#the entire night was really funny before i started falling apart about everything it just became a little much#kind of this whole week combined. monday i tried to take the bus to school showed up ten minutes early waited half an hour it never showed#(first time trying to take the bus from the apartment. school said there’s a stop here but apparently no)#tuesday i tried to take the bus after school and it never stopped within a mile of the apartment. got dropped off at a trailer park#that was not mine. had to have my mom pick me up. and then go to work after like regular#then wednesday was a little bit normal i think. pretty much regular. but did have trouble getting home again!! just not as exciting#anyway then thursday was probably maybe normal?? except my sister came in to school to visit her old favorite teacher. who is my teacher#in economics. and knows me trans and i had to have a conversation with my sister. so maybe not that normal#and then on friday. my older sister had my key card and i couldn’t get into the apartment building. waited outside for my little sister for#twenty minutes in the cold and then we went in the lobby and had to wait for a stranger to get close enough to ask for help. bad experience#so anyway there’s been a lot leading up to today. and it makes sense that i fell apart eventually. but no longer crying so call that a win#hope you all are well. i’ll go to sleep eventually. just a lot to get off my chest. in conclusion wasn’t this dance stupid#we hadn’t had a charity gala since pre-covid so i think just nobody knew what it would be like. i’m the only grade who’s been before#if it wasn’t for the charity gala i wouldn’t know i was trans. somebody complimented my transition there and i was like sorry i can do that?#(had cut my hair short and was wearing a suit. considered myself a stag bisexual and hadn’t heard of transmasculinity /gen)#so i had maybe high expectations. anyway i’m probably running out of tags soon just. yeah. idk. today was a lot#friends only#delete later
2 notes · View notes
reinmeka · 1 year
Text
-
5 notes · View notes
dadsbongos · 6 months
Text
my type?
Tumblr media
4.3 K words
summary - Yuuji Itadori is a total knockout boyfriend - the only hitch? You’re nothing like his usual type of woman, and it’s making you unsure.
warnings - 18+!, femreader with jugs and vagene, p in v sex, unrealistic car sex, specifically stated that reader is non-tall with big tits, dumbification for both parties, squirting, non-curse AU where sukuna and yuuji are brother-roommates, unprotected sex
Tumblr media
Itadori, Yuuji was an amazing boyfriend - something straight out of a top-selling shoujo manga.
Faithful and doting and affectionate. He handed over his hoodies the moment you mentioned an unpleasant breeze, he proudly held your hand in public, and he boasted about the very act of dating you to anyone with ears. But even those displays felt backhanded, the deeper you dug into your own mind. You had no real reason to complain about the situation.
And you especially had no reason when the cause behind your complaints would be so shallow.
You had an ass in the same way that everybody else did, but nothing comparable to the pin-up poster Yuuji tore down when you two started dating. Or his celebrity fascination, Jennifer Lawrence (which also mysteriously stopped being mentioned when you two started dating).
Rather, your body was much more endowed in ways that made Nobara tease as you passed lingerie stores with hot pink lighting and black walls and heavy busts plastered in the windows. She’d snag you by the sleeve and point, just to watch how you scoff and look away.
Yuuji pointedly ignores those stores. He ignores everything in relation to them.
You’d picked this shirt just for tonight. It dips low into your cleavage, just tight enough to still push up the tender meat of your breasts. Not to mention the color - deep crimson, Yuuji’s favorite. Well, at least the closest you’ll ever get to a favorite color with his indecisive nature.
Tumblr media
Yuuji sits across from you at the scratched table. When his eyes aren’t scavenging the conveyor belt for small, shiny, colored plates serving anything that may catch his eye, they’re on your face. And only your face.
Normally something you’d absolutely cheer over - if this were a first date, but the fact is that this is one of many dates. And after so many dates that you can’t count anymore, you’re starting to want Yuuji’s eyes to drift.
You want him to look and you want to watch him sweat and go red. You’re starting to need it.
The need only grows more apparent mere days later.
Yuuji keeps his hands stubbornly on your hips, barely making an imprint from outside your clothes. But you choose not to make a fuss since he’s otherwise fully engrossed with keeping his lips pasted to yours. Your hands are sweaty and hot on Yuuji’s cheeks, you just know they are, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he lets you hold him close and grind on him.
Yet his palms are stiff against you. They don’t feel warm or cold or clammy or moist. They just… are. He chokes back every groan and huff and you almost feel embarrassed to be letting out hitches and breathy moans so freely in comparison.
Puffing your chest out, you can feel your breasts pillowing against Yuuji and you’re hoping to tempt him to move his hands up. Under your shirt and bra with bare skin on bare skin. The idea makes you mewl, dragging your hips harder against his and further pushing out your tits for him to grope.
And suddenly, his stiff hands are picking you up off his lap, sliding you beside him on your couch. Yuuji grins, standing and swiping his hands down the legs of his sweatpants before planting a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry, gotta pee.”
“Oversharing!” you call after his retreating form.
When Yuuji returns, he sits down and rewinds the movie you two had put on earlier. He frowns and murmurs about how much the both of you missed. When you don’t turn back to the TV immediately, Yuuji smiles again and kisses your cheek.
Your gut twists unpleasantly.
And that need festers into utter desperation by just the next afternoon.
“Hey, Yuuji,” you come up from behind your boyfriend, arms dangling over the back of his couch and framing his shoulders. You place your chin on his head, staring at the intense cooking competition he’s watching, “So, I know I just got here… but! I’ve got a small, teensy errand to run.”
“Mhm?” he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, “Want me to go with you?”
His offer has you nodding, trying to smother down the bright simper he threatens to drag out of you, “Yeah, if you’re not busy.”
Sucking in air noisily through his teeth, Yuuji gestures out to the show he lazes in front of, “I dunno, babe, I am watching TV.”
“Very funny,” you back away from his couch, already heading to the door to tug your shoes on, “Just saying, you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Yuuji always wants to come with, you like that about him, “Just getting some new bras.”
Your current ones are fine, but maybe a stuffy changing room is that nudge he needs.
“Oh,” your boyfriend pauses, eyes widening, “Uh. You might want to take Kugisaki for that, she’d know more than me,” he can’t even look at you, “I’m not really the kinda person you’d want around for that.”
You almost ask what he means by that, but the rejection has fried your brain to a gray, crunchy crisp. The kind of fry that looks like it could flake apart with a harsh jab. Again, that terrible, awful knotting in your stomach returns, but you carry on. Because if you claimed to no longer need this errand ran, then he might know what your scheme was - and that was far worse than whatever this hell was.
So you nod slowly and meekly call out that you love him before exiting the door. He says he loves you more.
You really wish you asked what he meant.
Finally, desperation comes to a head when you meet Yuuji’s friend - Todo, Aoi.
Todo, Aoi, who stares at you - eyes narrow as he judges each wrinkle in your clothes and jitter of your muscles - then turns to Yuuji, and asks point-blank, “Did you lie about your type, then, brother?”
Yuuji rips the hand in his pocket out and cuts it across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing a couple of rude ‘shut up’s. You lean into Yuuji’s side, squeezing the hand he lays in yours tighter. It isn’t sweaty. And it isn’t very warm, either.
Aoi doesn’t seem very upset at the idea, “I’m happy you’re happy,” you look down at your shoes when he glances back over at you, “I was excited when I thought we had the same type.”
No, you weren’t very tall. And no, your butt wasn’t exceptionally big. You fell on the more mediocre sides of those categories, the thing you excelled in (what you thought most guys were thrilled over) was having a large bust.
“Dude!” Yuuji hits Aoi in the shoulder. Hard, “Shut up!”
He squeezes your hand so tight you think it might bruise.
“Sorry, brother,” Aoi, you were warned, was extremely unusual - little to no boundaries and almost inept at social interactions outside of fighting. He does seem sympathetic enough, turning to you, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
It’s all so sickening. How you wish Yuuji would hurry up and show interest in shallow things. How you place personal esteem on this whole fiasco. How right Aoi is. How badly you’re letting everything affect you.
The ringing in your ears, for example. The way you no longer think you can stomach whatever Aoi was cooking tonight. The shortness of your breath.
You try to push it down. Tonight is supposed to be fun.
Yuuji shoves his friend, much more lightheartedly than his previous blow, and goes to kiss your forehead - but hesitates. His smile is uneven, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he squeezes your hand, “I love you,” then, apologetically, he smooths his thumb over the sore spots where he clenched your hand, “I love you so much.”
And you know that. You know it like you know your favorite movie.
Tonight was supposed to be fun.
He loves you, you know that - what you don’t know, is if he wants you. Doesn’t he get sweaty palms like you? Doesn’t he feel his intestines tie into bunches of little knots like you? Doesn’t he get all hot in the face like you? Doesn’t he want you like you want him?
It’s humiliating to imagine that he doesn’t, and the mere idea makes you so nauseous you think you might hurl at this very moment.
Maybe your boyfriend just doesn’t find you as attractive as you want him to.
Maybe you should give up this repetitive scheme.
The car is quiet, unbearably so. Your knees are angled away from Yuuji defiantly, legs pushed to the far side of your seat so it’d be a hassle for him to reach out and hold your thigh. You used to think it meant something when he did that, but now it seems as though he’s doing it out of duty. Like holding the door for someone behind you. Or offering your seat on the bus to elderly passengers. Simple acts of simple kindness.
The most basic peacekeeping, if anything.
Yuuji peeks at you without turning away from the road, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Are you upset?”
You could be snippy. You could even opt to not respond.
But you do neither, “Yeah.”
He sighs through his nose, “Seriously, don’t listen to Todo. He doesn’t know anything.”
Now, you’re a little snippy. To point out that Aoi’s being stupid isn’t uncalled for, but to claim he doesn’t know exactly what stupid shit he’s saying is.
“He has a point.”
“Huh?” Yuuji turns his head fully to look at you, something he only does because the quiet backroad home is empty, “What’re you talking about?”
Only flickering, crooked, rusty street lamps are witness to your impending breakdown. Your boyfriend returns his stare to the road. Crickets sing outside and the wind flattens over long grass that shines under moonlight.
“Yuuji,” sinking into your seat, you ignore his eyes, “You can’t seriously say you have no idea,” he’s quiet, lips pressed thinly, “Since we met, practically everybody has known your type. I knew you had a type! It was a shock to our friends when we got together! And now that we are…”
Pulling off into the grassy plain lining your way home, Yuuji slips the key from the ignition and unclicks his seatbelt to really examine you. His eyes scramble over you, every part the sensitive, concerned boyfriend you know and treasure. He pouts, but it’s in earnest; hurt simply because you’re hurt.
“And now that we are?”
“Why don’t you look at me?”
“I look at you!” he rubs the back of his neck, now quirking a brow at you, “I look at you all the time.”
“No,” you whine like a petulant child, hands coming up to cover your face, “It’s different!”
Aoi’s words just won’t stop creeping up your spine. Yuuji setting you aside on the couch. Yuuji insisting that you bring Nobara to a lingerie store instead of him. He was lying to someone, right? Was it to Aoi or you?
But everybody had seen that poster, and everybody could hear him declare his preferences.
“It’s way different,” you’re so humiliated you’re nauseous, your voice wobbles.
Yuuji tenderly takes your wrists, dragging down your hands. His smile is squiggly, brows high to his forehead, “Talk to me, pretty girl. You want me to look at you?” you nod, “So tell me what you mean by that.”
You almost hate how soft his voice is. It makes it so hard to be upset.
“I’m not your type,” your eyes trail the way Yuuji’s fingers dance around yours, “And every time I try to… you know, get you to think of me as something other than just cute or pretty - you turn me down. I feel like you don’t find me attractive.”
“Oh, like sexually?”
“Mhmm,” you nod glumly. When he’s quiet for just a couple of seconds too long, you ask, “Did you know what I was trying to do?”
“Kind of,” Yuuji’s cheeks are growing red, eyes now abandoning your entwined hands to stare out the windshield, “I do find you attractive - that’s a little bit of the problem.”
“What?”
He sucks in a breath sharply, engulfing your hands completely with his and squeezing (much more mindfully this time), “I’m crazy about you,” he can tell you don’t believe him, “It scares me a little,” he pulls his hands away and cradles his own over his lap, “I’m worried that if I give in, I’ll scare you off… like I’m too eager or something.”
“Yuuji!” you adjust in your seat, moving sideways and finally letting your knees face your boyfriend again, “You wouldn’t scare me off by being eager about my body! That’s a good thing, right? When we’re both into each other, that’s good!”
“No, I mean,” he’s gone rouge all the way up to his ears now, a fire bright in his chest, “I want you so bad it makes me feel like all my skin’s burning. My hands get all gross and sweaty so I have to wipe them on my pants, and- and I can’t think straight,” he’s still not looking at you, but the way he’s pressing his arms down on his crotch tells you he wants to, “Even now, I think I’m going crazy just imagining you…”
You sit up on your knees, leaning over the center console just to watch your boy squirm at the invasion of space, “Imagining me?” he nods shakily, “Imagining me how?”
He whines, turning his head and pressing his scorching face into your neck, “You know how.”
“Come on, pretty boy,” you kneel over the console entirely, squeezing behind the wheel to settle on Yuuji’s lap - slapping away his hands from the growing tent in his baggy pants, “Entertain me, please?”
“Imagining you under me, on me, between my legs,” his hands fly to your hips, palms slipping up under your shirt, and, God, his palms are sweaty, “Any way you’ll have me,” you cup his cheeks and press messy kisses to his lips. Yuuji’s hands roam further up your shirt, fingertips teasing under the cups of your bra, “Any way I can see your tits.”
“I thought you were more into ass,” your bravado falls under his admission, suddenly bashful.
Yuuji closes his eyes, swallowing hard while pushing his hands under your bra, he can feel his heartbeat all the way at the back of his throat. His rough palms cupping the soft, fleshy fat on your chest, “As if that matters,” his brows knit, hips subconsciously jerking up into yours, “I’m a horny guy: my hot girlfriend has big boobs, and I’m obsessed with her big boobs.”
“Just ‘cuz you’re horny?” you tease, grinding down on the bump of his hard cock. His loose pants let him spring up under your skirt, knocking into your panty-clad cunt.
“Nah,” his eyes flutter open, sweaty palms moving around your back and clumsily unhooking your troublesome bra. It takes him three tries, “I like every part of you all the time…” the tip of his tongue parts his lips in hard concentration, “Your whole body makes me feel like I’m full of bugs.”
“‘Full of bugs?!’” you snort, lifting your arms so Yuuji can yank off your shirt and bra in one ungraceful motion.
“In a good way,” he promises, eyes locked on your heaving chest. You can hear the thick breaths he struggles through, “‘m so nervous and horny at the same time, it feels like bugs in my stomach.”
“What’re you nervous for?”
“‘Cuz I wanna make you cum, but I’m worried I’ll cream my pants before we even get to it,” he finally looks into your eyes, he smiles at you with flaming cheeks and palms at your breasts, “It was so hard making sure I kept it together… Been jerkin’ off every night thinking of you - ask Sukuna, he’ll tell you. It’s been embarrassing.”
“Augh, Yuuji!”
“It’s true!”
It makes your palms hot and sweaty, the image of him so desperate. All for you.
“Hm,” you croon, grinding against your boyfriend’s cock, back arching to press your tits closer to his face, “Yuuji...”
Wrapping his arms around your waist, Yuuji sucks one of your nipples between his lips and laves it with his tongue. He bucks up against your wetting panties. Pulling away from your nipple with a soft pop, Yuuji stares up at you with another earnest, flustered pout, “Can you take it out for me?”
As if you could forget what he’s talking about, he humps you again.
“Please, take it out,” he cranes his neck to run his warm, wet tongue over your other, unattended nipple.
“Aw,” you didn’t think seeing your big, energetic boyfriend act so pathetic would set you on fire the way it does. One of your hands stretches down between you and Yuuji, wrangling down his pants with him lifting his hips to help, “Do you want me to play with your cock?”
He hums against your breast, nodding eagerly, “Yuh- yeah- ! Please?”
Your fingers wrap around the warm softness of Yuuji’s erection, thumb playfully nudging his mushroom tip’s slit. He throws his head back, ricocheting against the car seat headrest with a throaty groan.
Giggling, you lean in to kiss the sensitive spot just under Yuuji’s jaw, hand still working up Yuuji’s weeping cock, “Having a good time, honey?”
“Uh-huh,” he unwinds his arms around you to grasp your hips once again, fingers bruising at your sides, “Feels so good - so, so good…”
“Who’s making you feel good, Yuuji?”
“You!” his right thigh twitches under you, “You, you - ‘s always you!”
“Always me?”
His chuckle breaks off into a slack-jawed moan, “Said I jerk off to you every night, didn’t I?” he reaches for your wrist, “Wait, wait!”
“Were you…?” so soon?
“I told you!” now he’s the one whining like a petulant brat, “I don’t wanna cum before you, but you just make it so hard.”
So soon.
Your thighs squish around Yuuji’s, hips grinding on nothing - desperate in search of friction.
“You like that?” he sounds breathless, staring at you as you watch his bobbing cock. All red at the head and straining against your hand, “You’re so mean, babe.”
“I like it a lot,” you sit up, lips finding Yuuji’s drool-slicked ones, “I like knowing I have that effect on you.”
“Since I first saw you, I think,” he admits, hands skimming under your skirt now, “Can I… ?”
You nod, holding tightly to Yuuji’s shoulders while you lean on one leg. You could, theoretically, drag your panties down your lifted leg by yourself - but Yuuji stubbornly joins your hand all the way down to your ankle.
Before trying to slip inside you, Yuuji cups your hot sex. His chest tightens, middle finger shakily tracing along your soaked cunt. Tongue lolling back out of his mouth, Yuuji tucks your nipple back into his mouth when he inserts his finger in your hole. Trying to keep his mind as busy as possible so he can stop thinking about how badly he needs to bury himself inside you.
“Yuuji,” your breathing is ragged, already lowering yourself before he even pulls his finger out of you, “I’m so past ready.”
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the swell of your tit, teasing his teeth against the full flesh, “I dunno if I’ll be able to get in…” he chuckles to himself, lightheaded when he taps the head of his cock against your clit, “Might slip right out, huh?”
“Stop teasing,” you cradle Yuuji’s head to your chest, arms thrown around his neck, “You’re the mean one.”
“I know, I know,” he lowers in his seat, pressing himself finally, finally, finally inside your pussy. Your tits press even closer to his face when you gasp at the stretch, “I’ve been ignoring my poor pretty girl this whole time,” he says it so mournfully, so heartfelt, “So selfish, just thinking of my pride - I didn’t even wonder how my girl felt.”
“Ahh, Yuuji,” you moan, piercing your bottom lip between your teeth.
“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he pushes down on your hips, lowering you on his stiff cock until your thighs are flush with his soft pants. They’re a little wet. You don’t care much, and you don’t think Yuuji does either right now. He screws up into you, one arm tight around your waist to pull you down into his thrusts and the other hand finding your slippery clit, “I’m so sorry, angel, can you forgive me?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” his fingers work quick circles on your nerves as he fucks you and you’re barely able to scramble together the words (let alone carry those words out in a sensible form), “Yes - ah! - yes, Yuuji!”
There’s something in the way he twists his hips this time because his cock beats into a particular spot that sends white sparks through your veins. You snap back, head hanging and forcing your bouncing tits directly in Yuuji’s face. Before you can even begin to beg, your big, energetic (and maybe a little pathetic) boyfriend is already nodding to himself.
“Right there, angel?” his fingers leave your clit to press down on where his cock batters your insides, “Is that it? Want me right here?”
“Please!” you squeal, thighs quivering and lungs fresh out of air.
“Uh-huh,” he keeps nodding, head too empty to realize he doesn’t need to anymore, “Uh-huh, anything for you… fuckin’ anything…”
When your lower half burns out, Yuuji keeps you upright - fully fucking up into you at that same spot he pushes down on your tummy. The need to cum burns every nerve in your body - it burns and burns and burns until it changes.
Something fuller and more familiar - in a more daily-life kind of way.
“Ah, Yuuji,” your hands perch on his shoulders, body bouncing with the weight of Yuuji’s hips slinging into yours, “I think- ! It feels like- !”
“Talk to me, angel,” dumbly, he looks up at you, almost snickering, “‘Entertain me.’”
“Feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you try warning him, you really do.
But something behind his eyes just shines brighter, grin widening and he actually laughs, “Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Fuck yeah,” he stares, wide-eyed, at where you’re creaming on his cock, “You gonna squirt on me, baby?” his foolish nodding quickens with his hips, “Squirt all over me, angel, I want it - want it so bad. Soak my car, oh,” his pretty mouth circles into an ‘O’ just at the thought, “Please, please soak my fucking car!”
Your head jerks back, nails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders, throat snapping raw as you cry out braindead mixtures of your boyfriend’s name and pleas for more and harder and his cum.
He moves the hand on your tummy to swish your clit and spread your mess as far as he can, mouth popping open almost instinctively just to catch stray droplets of your cum in his mouth. One day (tomorrow) he might regret (will definitely regret) intentionally making you spray cum all over his front, and even back, seats, but right now he couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it.
“‘m gonna cum,” he grits his teeth, moans choked back in his throat, “‘m gonna cum - where?” before he can ask again, you find the strength to swivel your hips down on him, “Inside?”
“Inside!” you sob, chest tight and eyes watering at the overstimulation of Yuuji still swirling a thumb on your clit, “Cum inside, Yuuji!”
“Fu- ck,” he squeezes the word out of his chest, seating you fully on his lap when his cock throbs. He juts his chin out towards you when he starts cumming, “Kiss me?”
And you waste no time throwing yourself forward to press chaste, sweet kisses on Yuuji’s drooling lips. He hums and whimpers into your mouth, greedily drinking in the taste of your lips on his. As if he’d been starved of it his entire life.
Yuuji keeps you against him, the both of you slowly coming back down to Earth.
His sopping pants are beginning to cool underneath you.
“Ugh,” you groan at the feeling, “I think we made a mistake.”
“Yeah…” Yuuji sighs, “Oh well. Can’t unfuck in the car now.”
You’re kind of dreading pulling off Yuuji’s soft cock - if you hadn’t done enough to ruin Yuuji’s pants before, then that most certainly will.
Yuuji sighs again, heartier, hands coddling your hips and tenderly rubbing circles into your bone. His eyes fall to your breasts and remain there, “I really am sorry, angel. I- I never, ever wanted you to feel like I didn’t want you.”
Because he does. Good, God, he always does.
Every time he sees you, his hands get all sweaty and his cheeks are hot and his stomach twists into jumbles of knots.
“It hurt,” you admit, “but it’s fine now,” you giggle at the idea of him apologizing over trying to be respectful, “It isn’t like you were being a dick, you know?”
“Yeah, but! Ugh!” he clenches a hand over his heart dramatically, frowning, “I hurt my girlfriend’s feelings. My sweet girl :( “
“You’re cute,” you kiss one of Yuuji’s fiery cheeks, “Okay, help me off.”
“Oh, yeah, huh,” he stretches over your shoulder to wring your panties back up your leg, “It’ll be unpleasant, but I think you need to wear these back to your apartment.”
“I’ll live,” you pick at the elastic to Yuuji’s pants and snap them back against his sweaty thigh, “Can’t be worse than this, pee pants.”
“Hey, it’s not pee,” he pouts once again tonight, “And be nice.”
You shake your head, leaning down to press your lips against Yuuji’s once again. Soaking in the taste like you’d been starved of it your entire life, “Never.”
8K notes · View notes
sugume · 3 months
Text
CALL ME DADDY w/Jujutsu Kaisen
Tumblr media
More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, daddy Kink, dd/lg undertones, implied 24/7 kink play, blowjob, praise, punishment, spanking with a paddle, blood, riding, cunnilingus, squirting
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento & Choso Kamo
Tumblr media
☾ Satoru Gojo  
The ‘Dad Joke’ Daddy, ’s very playful and dorky. He loves doing the stereotypical TV dad things like smoking cigars, having a world’s best dad mug, and reading the paper during breakfast. Your number one supporter, always at every event or promotion you have, and he’s the first to support you when you’re down. Because he has more life experience, he enjoys guiding you.
“Quiet baby, Daddy’s tryin' ta read the paper.” He hushes you with a firm pat on the head. You're on your knees under the table, with his cock buried as far as it can go.
“Sorry Daddy,” you whisper, taking his heavy cock out of your mouth. “I promise I’ll be quiet.” You look up at him expectantly through wet lashes.
“I know you will, love.” He smiles down at you before gently pushing your head back towards his cock. You happily shove It back into your mouth while he picks up his favorite mug and reads about the current world events.
“Such a good girl, always listenin’ to what Daddy tells you, hmm? I think you deserve an award.”
☾ Ryomen Sukuna
The 'Disciplinarian' Daddy, has very high expectations of you. Very strict with SO many guidelines and rules, it's almost like he wants you to fail so he has a reason to punish you. He’s a brat tamer who readily reminds you who's in charge. Likes to physically enforce his rules and never skips a good spanking. 
“I’m sorry Daddy, promise I am!” You sob as the wooden paddle comes down on your already bruised ass. 
“You didn't sound sorry laughin' and messin’ with me durin’ my meeting.” He grits out, forcing your hands to stay on to the side when you try to cover your ass. 
“Thought it was funny while m’ just tryin’ ta support us,” he brings the paddle down, ignoring your screams for mercy. “All you do is sit at home and’ spend my hard-earned money.”
“I'm sorry Daddy I won’t do it again.” You squirm when he rubs an especially sore spot on your ass that you know for a fact is going to sting for the next week. 
“Yea?” He slowly lets go of your hands.
“Yes! Yes! I swear Daddy, on my life!” Your sob of relief turns into a scream when he brings his hand down again. 
“What did I say about swearing things on your life, huh!?”
☾ Nanami Kento
The ‘Professor’ Daddy, he's so calm and patient with you. All he wants is to see you succeed. Likes taking you on informational dates like going to a museum or aquarium or just staying in and watching documentaries. He’s a pillar of strength, very structured and strict but also forgiving and nurturing. Loves giving you praise and seeing your face lighten up when he teaches you something interesting. 
“C'mon little girl, you can do it.” He encourages you from his place underneath you. 
“I can’t do it! ‘S too big, I’m so stupid!’ You cry out, covering your tear-ridden face from your daddy. 
He must be so disappointed, you think. 
“Hey…Hey, you can, princess, I know you can. Remember what Daddy taught you?” he pulls your hands from your face and places them on his big chest. You look into his eyes and nod.
“Yea,” he settles you over his cock. “Daddy knows he taught you how to ride, you just have to do it yourself now. C'mon perfect girl you can do it.”
With his praise you nod to yourself before slowly guiding yourself down his shaft. Once you reach the hilt you moan and smile down at him. He smiles back before nodding back expectantly. You brace your knees on the soft pillows underneath them and slowly start bouncing exactly like he taught you. 
“My perfect girl.”
☾ Choso Kamo
The ‘lowercase ‘d’ Daddy, the rare submissive daddy. He loves doing anything that pleases you and tends to be more forgiving when you break the few rules he has. He enjoys providing from a submissive mindset and being wrapped around his partner's finger. 
“Do you feel good, baby?” Chosos asks from his position underneath your dress.
“Mhm, feels so good Daddy, you always make me feel so good.” You moan when he goes back to eating you out. He says something else but it's muffled as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curl into your g-spot. 
“Right there Daddy,” You squeeze his head between your thighs. “M’gonna squirt Daddy, you’re gonna make me squirt!” You yell before releasing all over his face. 
“Fuck that felt so good Daddy.” You grin at Choso who’s come out of your now damp dress.
“Yea? You tasted fuckin’ divine babygirl.” He grins up at you. 
“Can you do me a big favor?” You blink innocently, already knowing the answer. His eyebrows frown in confusion.
“Course I will baby, what is it?”
“Can you lick my mess up off the floor, don’ want my parents to wonder why the floor is wet.”
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
batfamluvr · 7 months
Text
Bat-Boys in Bed
Tumblr media
I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me
Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.
He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.
I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.
Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”
I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.
He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.
Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.
He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.
I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.
Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.
Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.
I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).
This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.
Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.
You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.
Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.
Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.
Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.
I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.
That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.
Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!
Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.
5K notes · View notes
riality-check · 8 months
Text
The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
4K notes · View notes
vanteguccir · 3 months
Text
Lovestruck boy | Matt Sturniolo
Tumblr media
Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, from anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Matt! Hellooo, is anyone there?" Nick spoke from behind the camera while moving his arms around exasperatedly, looking at his brother, who had his eyes focused on the couch in the back of the room.
Matt is the kind of guy that when he loves, he loves hard.
So to say that Matt was crazy about Y/N was an understatement, all that was on his mind day and night was his girlfriend; His days were happier with her by his side, he felt like he had more energy and strength to do anything, only because of her.
His favorite thing in the world was seeing her happy, so his heart warmed every time he heard her talking about the books she was reading with so much passion and affection - so much so that he lost count of how many times he took her to the bookstore and bought more than 100 dollars in books, just to be able to hear her talk about the characters that Matt never memorized the names of and the story that always made she speak too quickly and with so much devotion.
Whenever Matt was with his brothers or friends, he would mention his girl. It was automatic, everything reminded him of her. He was obsessed. With all that said, it was inevitable that, being in the same room, the boy wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.
The theme of that Wednesday's video was something suggested by Y/N herself, as just a few minutes ago the four of them were lying on the sofa in the living room, the girl with her feet on Matt's lap while starting a new book, while the brothers watched old videos of themselves on television.
His hands caressed the tops of her feet covered in fluffy Iron Man socks, which she had probably stolen from his side of the drawer. Every now and then Matt's right hand would go up her legs to Y/N's left hand, taking it away from the book and to his mouth, sealing the warm, soft skin with love, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.
A smile grew on Matt's face every time his brothers made vomiting sounds, calling them disgusting. While Y/N felt like her cheeks could explode from how red they became.
Matt's teenage voice coming from the videos made Y/N's heart warm, and seeing the silly smiles on the triplets' faces as they traveled through the land of nostalgia made an idea pop into the girl's head, who instantly put down the book and paused the video, catching the attention of them.
And this takes us to the current moment, after Y/N has separated some pictures from when they were children, teenagers or nowadays on Nick's phone, having created an album to be used in that specific video.
Matt and Chris were sitting at the kitchen table, facing the camera, Nick - who was standing behind it with the album open on his phone -, and consequently also facing the sofa, where Y/N was sitting comfortably as she flipped through her book, a smile appearing every now and then on her face as her expressions changed according to the events in the story.
A cup of cappuccino that Matt made for her rested on her legs, keeping her warm, while her right hand came out of the book every now and then and picked up the drink, taking a sip.
It was the third time that Nick caught Matt's attention, who seemed to get lost in his girlfriend's figure, and all external sounds, including his brothers' voices, became muffled.
To disguise it, the boy would randomly guess the name of one of his brothers or himself when Nick showed a small part of a picture, getting it wrong almost every time. This led to him having the lowest score.
"What? Yes, that's Chris." Matt blinked his eyes quickly, looking away from Y/N and to the phone in Nick's hands.
"Matt, it's you!" Nick exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sighing, he knew the video would continue like this if he didn't get Y/N out of the room, but his best friend looked too comfortable on the couch.
"Pay attention, dumbass." Chris slammed the palm of his left hand against Matt's forehead, earning a slap back on the arm.
Y/N lifted her head from the book momentarily, holding back a laugh as she saw the brothers fighting, rolling her eyes playfully before returning her attention to the story, adjusting her position on the couch.
"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention. I promise." Matt raised his hands in surrender, swallowing hard as he glanced briefly at Y/N and saw her laughing softly, returning his eyes to his older brother and forcing himself to keep them there.
"For those of you who aren't understanding, Y/N is sitting on the couch reading, and Matt can't stop looking at her. He's obsessed, I swear." Nick muttered behind the camera, shaking his head even though they couldn't see him.
When the first round ended, Chris got up and took Nick's place behind the camera, agreeing to be the next to show the pictures and be the jury.
Nick handed him the phone and sat down next to Matt, looking briefly at the couch and closing his lips in a thin line at Y/N's wide eyes at the book, probably surprised by some absurd scene.
The oldest looked at Matt, seeing that his brother was already looking at Y/N, too. Their eyes quickly met when Matt felt Nick looking at him, a laugh escaping both of their mouths.
"Are you ready?" Chris asked after choosing the first picture he would use, receiving a nod from the two brothers, who had both arms on the table so they could reach the "button" faster.
The youngest zoomed in on the pic and turned the screen towards the two, waiting for one of them to get it right.
Matt had never moved so fast, his left hand slamming against the post-it too hard as his eyes were wide in euphoria.
"It's me! Look at Y/N's hand there." Matt shouted in excitement, raising his right hand and pointing at the phone behind the camera.
"Yeah, that's Matt." Nick sighed, knowing that even though he got it right too, Matt spoke first. "You only got it right because Y/N is in the picture!"
"Obviously, he knows Y/N's traits more than he knows his own." Chris scoffed from behind the camera, zooming out of the image and looking for the next one.
The picture in question was from a day when the four of them went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant about a year ago, Nick and Chris were sitting on one side of the table and Y/N and Matt on the other. Matt had his elbows resting on the wooden table and his hands crossed, laughter escaping his lips when he heard something Chris said, while Y/N joined him in laughing, her hands crossed around his right bicep and her head resting on his covered shoulder.
The pic was taken by Nick, being the passionate photographer that he was, and Chris felt a smile stretch across his face as he remembered the moment.
Even though they made fun of their brother so much for being a crazy in love for Y/N, they felt their chest fill with joy for their brother every time they saw them together. They knew that their brother had found his other half, and seeing him as happy as ever made them just as happy.
"I know, he's obsessed with her." Nick commented again, receiving a slap on the back of his head, letting out a laugh when he saw Matt roll his eyes, but don't deny anything.
The girl looked up again when she heard her name being said by one of the boys and her person being mentioned more than once. Her eyes met Matt's blue ones, who looked at her with love and affection, an easy smile appearing on his face almost automatically.
Y/N smiled back, blowing a kiss, which the boy pretended to catch with his left hand and keep in the pocket of his hoodie.
When the round changed again, it was Matt's turn to stand behind the camera and choose the pictures.
The boy got up from his seat, fixing his pants and walking over to where Chris was, taking the phone from his hand and closing the last picture chosen by the youngest.
His thumb scrolled across the screen, looking for the first one he would use as he let his brothers settle down.
A smile stretched across Matt's face as he passed by a picture of Nick and Y/N, where they were both wearing sunglasses, with feathers around their necks and making faces at the camera. Nick had his left hand raised showing a peace sign, and it was there that Matt decided to zoom in, but not before lingering his eyes for a few seconds on the full image, admiring his girlfriend there.
Matt took advantage of the fact that his brothers were in a silly argument and turned around momentarily, looking at his girl, who was now in a position that in his head was probably very uncomfortable, but he already knew that for Y/N, the most different positions were the best.
The girl felt eyes on her and looked up, seeing Matt standing there admiring her. A reddish color took over her cheeks, and her fingers played with the pages of the book, trying to hide her shyness.
Matt nodded briefly at the book as if asking her how the story was going. Y/N smiled at the action, making a chief kiss gesture with her right hand while her left held the book open, afraid of losing the page she stopped at.
"I want to hear all abo-" Matt began in a low voice, just for Y/N to hear, but his sentence was cut by a hand hitting the table.
"I'm going to get Y/N out of the room if you don't turn around now and do your job." Nick said, crossing his arms. Chris held back his laughter beside him, his face turning red from the force he exerted in the action.
"You're so unnecessary." Matt rolled his eyes, throwing a wink at Y/N, who had a goofy smile, before turning to face his brothers again.
"No, you are." Nick responded, opening his mouth to argue against Matt again, only to be stopped by Chris, who smacked his left arm while laughing.
"Go ahead, Matt." The youngest asked, straightening up and clearing his throat, looking at his brother as he waited for the first picture.
Nick sent a bored look to Y/N, who was still watching them intently. The girl laughed softly, turning her attention back to the book as she felt her heart warm.
Y/N felt so grateful for her boyfriend and his brothers, who she saw as family. She would never forget the day Nick thanked her for how happy she made his brother, but little did he know, it was Matt who made her the happiest.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Extra - comments:
"Matt looking behind the camera every 2 minutes with a lovestruck look on his face was the cutest thing I've ever seen 😔"
"Matt being able to guess the picture that had Y/N in it just because of her 😭"
"I love how Nick and Chris make fun of Matt for his love for Y/N all the time"
~ "deep down, they love them together more than the couple itself lol"
"I want to have a boyfriend who is as obsessed with me as Matt is with Y/N ​​🧎‍♀️"
"Y/N is a total bookworm, and I'm here for it!"
~ "petition for her to make tiktoks about the books she reads ✏️📄"
"it's incredible to see the difference between Matt before Y/N and Matt during Y/N. She's so good for him 🥺"
"Matt smiles so much when Y/N is near 😫"
"Matt and Y/N >>>>>>> any other famous couple"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
2K notes · View notes