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heartjjunie · 1 year

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fem reader x m crush

mdni!

quick warning : mature

a/n : rlly rushed/drabble on the phone and not proofread! (this is only the draft!)

“I’ve waited too long to have you like this y/n

Theres not enough air, why does he feel so lightheaded, His chest feels so heavy though making him take labored breaths.

His shaky hands still hold a firm grip on your wrists pushing you under him surrounding you fully finally

y/n she… she feels so hot it’s burning up

Drowning in someone she can’t think beyond the way his hoodie brushes against her when he breathes in

Why are they so close again?

She can’t remember

Does it even matter?

But it’s too much, its only brushing against her grazing her skin, making her want more, so much more, any more of him. she doesn’t know if shes going to break without it or if she can’t handle any more, senses anticipating(?) so sensitive for his touch that it hurts

Pupils blown wide, she’s panting, but unable to bear his heavy gaze one second longer, she turns her head to the side, letting out a whimper

big mistake

your eyes fly open as you feel someone dive into the opening, with such urgency, jolting off the bed into the small space left after someone leaned in to her neck.

His lips were a hot press but he dared open them scorching the area red hot with his breath leaving a wet trail going down her neck

Electricity fluttering through her, racking her whole body as he shifts buried in her neck, the waves leaving her mouth hanging open an unending string of foreign gasps leaving her lips shuddering against him

Reaching her collarbones y/n started squirming with the spot but only shifting with his grip on her wrists

“someone… ah ah I- … ah hnngh”

It was too much, y/n couldn’t remember what she was trying to think, supposed to think

someone at base of her neck actually bit down making y/n let out a strangled squeak,and eyes glaze over with pure want

someone slowly pulled away for the first time raising ur wrists above ur head restraining them with just one hand and seeing ur fucked out expression , eyes nearly rolling, unstopping trembling , hair mussed and your shirt riding up revealing ur stomach he slid his hand up ur stomach tracing the waist and rubbing it not having the restraint to not feel you up any longer, “som- please…” cupping her waist harshly he pulled her into him pressing onto each other, her chest squishing into his and her head burying into his hair, his mouth brushes against her ear as he let a low whisper “not anymore… u will be saying MY name only, going to leave u with the only word u can remember as my name” and with a growl he’s flipping u around, pulling u with one hand tugging ur waist and ur wrists in front of u, ur skirt falling over his leg that as sat up wound up under you, fallint into his chest immediately and breathing heavily

Instead of the constant light electric fluttering there is an ache in ur stomach and you actually bite into his shirt and shoulder to muffle ur scream when he shifts under u

“No baby, what did I say, I need to hear you. Don’t be so bad weren’t u going to be good for me after making me wait all this time.”

pushing ur hands, still pinned together in his, into his chest you lift off his shoulder barely managing to make out, “s-som…onee ah- mmmmmh stop it’s too much ugh it feels too good, ur face nrck and entire body flushhed red, eyes hazy and clouded with need

Finally hearing his name in ur mouth someone groans and shoves a thumb into ur mouth

“Hmm what are u talking abt baby you don’t look so good, what’s wrong” he flexed his thigh under u making u fall into him again crying out “someone!”

“Please ah- ”tears slipping out of eyes from the ache for his touch

“Please what baby…?”

He licks ur tears alway tongue lingering against ur skin

“I want U”

It takes everything in him not to take u right then but he can’t let u get away again. To finally hear these words and not give u w everything u want, to make u feel good, to date u, he has to play this right

“Take me then” acting innocent he release ur wrist and leans back on his hands

U steady urself against his shoulder upset and

Burying ur self in his throat…………..** ^^ unfinished ^^ **……………………………………

Couldn’t believe you were falling apart on his fucking thigh

#x reader #needy #fem reader x m crush #y/n x crush #reader x crush #smut #thigh riding

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xxlovleybellaxx · 2 years

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Y/N headcannon {asking crush out}

(this is a boy version but ill make a girl version of the crush soon)

(sorry if some words are spaced out its because my computer isn’t working right)

It was you and your friends walking around the school, until, you bump into him!!!! you fall in his arms and he holds you in a romantic way and you get up and run to your next class. after class its lunch, so you and your friends go to your table and eat. you see him walking to an empty table and sitting alone and then you see him put his hood up. you wonder why. pov:*why is he sitting alone???*. You get up from your table and say you need to go to the bathroom but you go check on him. he says that his friends aren’t here today. and you say “can i sit with you? he says in a very cute voice “ yeah....sure”. you immediately get butterflies in your stomach and you quickly sit down and then you and him talk for a little bit until After lunch you realise that your friends were watching you as you and him were talking and you say “ill be back ***** i need to go get something from my locker. you take your friends to your locker and you start to yell at your friends and then he comes over and says “ hey **** i gotta go but can i get your number? “sure....why not” he gives you his phone and you give him his and then you both walk to class. A few classes later your packing up your stuff and heading back to your class to wait for you bus. then you see him running to you and asking if he can have lunch with you tomorrow. you accept the question happily. Its finally time, you thought. “is he gonna like me back?” “what if he calls me a rat or a pick me?” “or even a ugly atrocious monster?”. You finally put up the courage to ask him out tomorrow at school. Its the class right before lunch and you tell your friends your ready and they say “are you crazy or something, because our ***** wouldn’t do something like this?” you say “relax because if he doesn’t like me we can atleast still be friends. When its lunch you grab your lunch at sit at table 3, the table he texted you to sit at today and you wait for him and he comes with a card. as he walks over, you question him humorously. “Who’s the lucky girl?’ you ask. “someone for me to know and someone for you to find out”. you look at him in a irritated way. “fine...fine....ill tell you”. your friends come over and ask if they could join you and him. you agree and he does to. and then he tells you” open the card’. you open it and it asks the most heart stopping thing.....you look up to him and he asks ”will you be my girlfriend????

#y/n x crush

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chinchilla-clown · 10 days

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hi dca fandom i make an offering after lurking for years what if one-sided crush but its not dca thats crushing hard

#i feel like i havent seen this dynamic before but correct me if im wrong!!!#sun n moon think ur kinda weird but they roll w it #youll get over your silly crush eventually!! (you will not)#y/n is holding both a sunflower and a moonflower btw if u even care #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #dca x y/n #simp station #im so nervous to post sdfhj UM LOOK AWAY #head in my hands im alrd working on a comic #nobody save me #simping in the daycare au

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d0llfaac3 · 1 month

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The bone(r)yard

Pairing: (Kinda) soft!Rafe Cameron x f!pogue!reader

Summary: reader is a pogue who is at the boneyard after being dragged by her friends, so she sat somewhere quiet not expecting to see Rafe Cameron…

Warnings: 18+, basically porn without plot, fingering, public sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it), almost getting caught, dirty talk, cunnilingus this is my first smut so pls be nice. Bad language and not proofread

You can’t remember when you got to the most secluded part of the boneyard, your friends had been making out with some tourists that came to the island, you just wanted to get drunk..but the party was getting annoying, finding a small little spot, your back leaning against a tree branch, sighing, you sat down, thinking it was quiet to hear two people making out behind you, making you leave, going to the opposite side.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

you asked simply to the man, Rafe Cameron, Sarah Cameron’s older brother, he was an asshole but damn he was hot.

“What?”

He says angrily, he always seemed to be angry..you wonder what he was frustrated over this time..maybe a girl told him to fuck off.

“Can I sit here?”

You spoke again, starting to get frustrated with his attitude he rolled his eyes in response.

“Okay? Fine? I don’t fucking care”

He huffs as you sat beside him, he was good looking and he knew it..

“What’s wrong with you?”

You ask quietly, just wanting to know what his problem was overall really..he huffs in response and looks away.

“It’s embarrassing”

“I doubt it”

“I have blue balls”

That did get a little giggle out of you, blue balls? Seriously? And that’s why he was acting so cranky? His face went pink due to the embarrassment, his eyes travelling towards your breasts in your bikini top.

“Sorry”

You say as you control your giggles, his face bright red from embarrassment, the tent in his shorts getting more prominent the more he stared at your cleavage, causing your face to turn pink as well.

“Could you help?”

God this man was cocky, almost making you come out of your shell a bit..you contemplated it..

“What do I get out of it?”

You said, you knew with kooks they where usually only in it for themselves, you were going to get something out of him if you done something for him.

“Sex?”

He says simply, you nodded. “Alright then”

You took a deep exhale as he unzipped his shorts, his grey boxers making the outline of his already hard cock, he was big..

You gently placed your hands on the base of his cock and started twisting your hands, making him whine a little bit.

“Oh that’s good” he says as he put his head against the tree, his eyes shutting, was he really that bad? You only just started touching him!

He reached over and with his right hand he squeezed your bikini clad boob, making you whine a little as well, his big hand on your boobs, he pulled your boobs out of the bikini top and groaned as he traced his fingers over your hardened nipples.

“God you’re sexy”

He says in between heavy breaths as your jerk him off, he was really enjoying this..

He soon spat ropes of cum along your hands and he got possessive.

“Take those fucking shorts off right now”

He says as you unbutton your shorts, now only in your bikini bottoms, making him groan as he saw your heat slipping through the bottoms..

He pushed the bikini bottoms to the side and smirked.

“All this for me? I really am lucky”

His hot fingers slipped into your wet heat, moving your folds so he could get a good look and smirking before burying his face into your cunt without warning, your head threw itself back as he ate you out like an expert.

He lapped up all your juices on his tongue and moaned against your clit, giving you more pleasure than expected, while he was eating you out he stuck two of his fingers into your cunt.

“Hmm good girl..”

He says as you whine and writhe under his mouth and fingers..

“I-I’m..”

You say breathlessly and he smirks.

“I know princess, I’m gonna put my cock in you okay?”

It’s like all air left your lungs when he said that..but you where so high off this feeling that you nodded fast.

His cock, that was already covered in his cum from a few minutes prior, now was hard again as it flopped against his lower abdomen, he teased your cunt with it before taking the plunge and stretching you out more than you hoped, he groaned and mumbled profanities as he fucked you.

“God princess, this pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”

He says in between groans as he starts to. Find a steady pace as she grip onto his shoulders.

While he was fucking you he started grabbing your boobs again.

“Your tits are a piece of fucking art”

He groans as he fucks you faster, the unholy sound of skin slapping together in the quietest area of the boneyard was pretty funny really, a kook and a Pogue, fucking like their life depended on it..

You continue making your assault on his shoulder and shirt clad back as you whine under him and he finally shoots his hot load on your stomach, a cream pie situation as he leaned back and watched the cum dripping out of your pussy with deep breaths..

“Can I have your number?”

He said with a smirk

____

IM SORRY GUYS U TRIED ITS SO BAD LMAO

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callie-the-creator · 7 months

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the boy from second period

nsfw. mdni. warnings: yandere behavior, stalking, emo oc being delulu, mentions of self harm, brief smut but you’ll most likely miss it if you blink lol, you get the picture.

author’s note: the yandere in this is just an oc i whipped up for the sake of writing some yandere!emo boy hcs— 😭✋🏻 but if i’m being honest, this is more chronological hc stuff. from where he first met you to now.

• elijah was never much of a romantic. in fact, he cursed the name of love…frequently. it was becoming more of a hobby as of late. he was exhausted tired of spending valentine’s day alone, having no one to spend time with during the holidays, or spending so much money on promposals or simply ask someone to a dance only to have them reject him…

— he swore that he wouldn’t lose himself and not develop some crush to save himself from the embarrassment of his affections getting denied. lord knows that he can’t handle rejection well, as he tries to open a vein every time he does…things were better this way.

…

• that was until a few weeks into his senior year when you suddenly moved from (your school name) to his: willowbrook high.

• he only knew you were new because in the middle of his second period, you came in with a schedule in hand, asking if this was english 11 with mrs. hadley…it was. of course it was.

— at first, elijah paid you no mind. he mentally sorted you into a category with how he saw the rest of his classmates. a waste of his time.

• it didn’t help that mrs. hadley decided it was a great idea to sit you with elijah, given that he sits at a table by himself in the corner of the room. he felt almost embarrassed when he was called out and it wasn’t like he could just say ‘no,’ especially not in front of all these people…so, he endured it.

• for now

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦

• what followed were two excruciatingly long weeks for poor elijah. the only times you two talked were brief. i mean it. 🥲

“hey!”

“…hello.”

“how are you doing?”

“fine. you?”

“i’m good. thanks for asking.”

• …and then fate had a funny way of twisting things! aka mrs. hadley assigned a partner project to the class, but the catch was that she already picked who people were going to be paired with and shockingly (yet he could see it coming from a mile away), you and elijah were picked to be each other’s partners.

— it flipped his world upside down, completely blindsiding him because this could only mean one thing: elijah was going have to step out of his comfort zone and to be forced to spend more time with you, primarily outside of school. yikes!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦

• even though it took a little time, you and elijah started talking more, both outside and inside of school. it even got to the point where he feared that he had grown attached to you, but that’s just crazy talk!…right?

• he would even find himself stalking your socials to learn more about you as a person, so he knows what to not do casually bring up the next time he sees you

• he hated to pat himself on the back, but elijah has deemed himself as the first official friend that you’ve made ever since you came to willowbrook

— but this didn’t mean that he didn’t get jealous.

• you always had ideas on how you two could spend more time together such as giving each other playlists for song recommendations, going to the movies, things like that…but elijah didn’t like whenever you suggested doing something that concerned more than just each other’s company. crowds.

— he fucking hated crowds, mainly the school’s football games because it meant that your undivided attention wouldn’t constantly be on him.

— and it doesn’t help that you are oblivious to his blossoming crush on you and start to swoon over the cute band geeks or football players. elijah felt like a sore thumb, someone not worthy of your time…even though he knows deep down in his heart that you and him are meant to be together.

• if there is a point where he catches you talking with another guy, elijah will give him the nastiest look in all of existence.

— there are a few times where elijah has just flat-out lies to a few of your classmates and told them that you and him were dating just so they would back off. there have been lots of close calls.

• he’s one clingy bastard. he’ll admit that outright.

• after dropping you off at home, elijah will return to his house feeling pent up, and if that happens, he’ll l do one of two things:

use a sharp kitchen knife to carve your name into the thick of his pasty thigh. he will even make sure to cut a giant heart around it for extra gusto. and, yes…he does take photos of his beautiful work. he wants to send them all to you, desperately, but knows that they’ll only scare you off.

wank one off to some photos of you that you either posted or took himself, or into one of your undergarments that he was able to steal. still…his hand and your underwear pales in comparison to what pleasure you could give him. elijah wants to feel your warmth. cuddle you closely and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he presses his naked body against yours.

• he wants you so bad…

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦

• unfortunately, all good things can’t last forever. the time for the project ended and as expected, you two passed with flying colors, but this didn’t mean that you and elijah stopped contacting each other completely, but it was…different. different from what it was.

— elijah didn’t like that. not one bit.

— he wants to be your boyfriend. he wants to be your boyfriend. he wants to be your boyfriend. he WANTS to be YOUR boyfriend!

• he has even taken up photoshopping as a hobby, so he can edit him into every single photo you have posted. oh, he can’t wait for the day where nothing but your beautiful face fills his camera roll.

— well…more than it does now anyway.

• that’s when he had an epiphany. there is a school dance coming up. as much as elijah didn’t want to blow through his money, he knew that you were worth it. all those lovely conversations you shared with him couldn’t be for nothing, right? you MUST like him back.

• and that’s how he spent the next few nights, thinking of ideas for the board and when he finally had an idea of what he could do, he wasted no time in making it for you.

• when elijah got to school, he made sure to ask you in the morning since he didn’t want to be holding the board the entire day.

• but…

• you immediately shook your head when he popped the magic question.

• he instinctively laughed at this, but not in a condescending way. he just didn’t understand why you were doing this to him. all eyes were on him, not you. you like him back, don’t you, so why are you toying with him?

• seeing that elijah clearly wasn’t getting the hint, you verbally say that you don’t want to go to the dance with him which causes him to freeze up like a scared goat.

• you’re shitting him, right? RIGHT?!

you. bitch.

you’re going to regret saying no to him.

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frickingnerd · 13 days

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deku crushing on a vigilante

pairing: izuku midoriya / deku x gn!reader

tags: pro hero deku, deku is just a genuine good guy, fluff

deku knew that vigilantes existed, but he had never met one like you before!

you were hiding your identity behind a mask and while he knew that using your quirk without a license was illegal, he couldn't ignore that you were doing good

besides, you actually ended up saving him! him, the number one hero, being saved by a vigilante!

after that first encounter, deku can't forget about you. sure, you were mysterious and beautiful, but the topic of vigilantes floats through his head as well

he knows you're doing good and he wants to help you with it, but in a more legal way!

the next time the two of you meet, he chases you down and has a talk with you, inviting you to join his agency!

as much as you seem to appreciate the offer, you end up declining. sure, working for the number one hero would be great! but who would help the people that get overlooked by pro heroes, if not you? they needed you!

deku admires your decision, but he's not giving up that easily. he wants to prove to you that pro heroes will help everyone, no matter how small the situation!

and so, it happens that you run into pro hero deku far more often during your own patrol. you watch as he helps lost children find home, settles arguments and helps pick up trash from the streets

you can't help but find this view amusing – the number one hero of japan, doing such small tasks that would usually fall onto sidekicks, if anyone does them at all!

but you admire him as well. after all, deku is truly trying to prove to you that he'll help anyone and that he won't just help people for publicity!

slowly, you begin to trust him more, as the two of you begin to spend more time together during patrol. and perhaps, you might even consider taking deku up on his offer to join his agency, should he ask you again…

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sukunasweetheart · 3 months

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Something i think abt often is sukuna placing almost all of his entire body weight on you, pretending to faint just for the shits and giggles, even tho it makes you fight for your LIFE

Sukuna: oh my, what's this...? Im feelin' so lightheaded all of a sudden-

You: [SCREAMING]

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jokes on yall i would be happy about it like yes put your entire crushing weight on me please 🙏#i cant breathe but its alright bc its sukuna

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iamthejinyouarethejin · 2 years

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Don't Be Mad, Baby...

Imagine whoever you want... Idol, character, crush- I'm tagging erbody. (just fluff btw) ((male x fem!reader- I'll do a gn one soon, I promise!!!!)

"you're adorable when you're jealous." he grinned.

"no!" i stamped a foot on the ground, crossing my arms like a toddler. "she was too close."

"i know she was, baby, which is why i told her i was taken and that she should probably head somewhere else."

"probably?!"

"babe-"

"no. no. no. no. you can't say anything to make me feel better."

"no?''

"no." i growled. he dragged his feet over to where i was standing and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head.

"not even this?" i could practically hear his smirk.

"n-not even..." i buried my head further into his chest. "ok, maybe this."

"haha, knew it."

#kpoo #bts #skz #st4 #stranger things #anne with an e #gilbert blythe #oc x reader #reader x character #got7 #writing community #writblr #writers of tumblr #y/n x crush #reader x crush #crush imagines

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bunicate · 2 months

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི minor pregnancy and daddy kink. breeding. sasuke being kinda mean :p / wc ꒱ 1.1k / 18+

“noisy woman .”

he’s grumbling and muttering under his breath in annoyance. other than the meeting of sweat-slicken skin, there’s your pitiful cries that make his cock twitch regrettably. you’re pretty — far too cute of a shinobi even at your sloppiest.

a sibilant sound gets wrangled from his mouth at the subtle squeeze of your wet cunt, disrupting the steady momentum of his hips.

“shit.”

sasuke breathes out huffs of hot air, goosebumps rising on your heated skin. your mind is hazy, full of the thought of his thighs pressing stickily against your ass.

his strong hands plant themselves behind your knees, pushing them on either sides of your head.

“hnn— sasukeeeeeee.”

your eyes cross and your vision blurs. the sight sends blood straight to his throbbing sac, throwing the shinobi off. he staggers, causing his to cock slip out of your wet cunt and you cry at the emptiness.

“n-nooo.”

your sharp pink nails dig into his skin, desperate to feel more of him.

he sucks his teeth. “would you calm down ?”

he pulls your hand away, and you let it fall against your forehead. your chest raises in anticipation, sweat dripping down the slopes of your breasts. he lines his fat head with your pussy, but god, your folds . . . they’re thick and fat, covering the very hole that he needs to bury himself in.

a trail of spit splats against your center. he couldn’t help it. your pussy is already doused in his cream and your sparkly arousal, but watching the spit drip down your opening ignited a fire in him.

sasuke’s left thumb pulls your lips apart, and his other hand firmly grips his cock. he rubs his heated member against your center before promptly sheathing himself inside.

“ s-sasukeee, y’r gnna hnnh—break me !”

he groans, doubling over from the intrusion.

“shut it.”

it feels like hours has passed the way he’s been mounting you. his cock is digging out your insides, his body caging you against the bed when his spend shoots out, but he’s not done — far from it.

“m’sorry . . . but you’re so big.”

and you’re fucking cute.

you were carefully done up so prettily. ribbons woven in your pigtails, konoha headband around the cinch of your waist, but those were long gone. one pigtail loosened, your makeup smeared, and clothes exposing your tits and cunt.

sasuke isn’t one to fawn over things like looks, he’s much more practical than that, but your beauty itself is a weapon. if he wasn’t careful, you’d puncture him.

you admire his lithe build, and it amazes you that despite being so slender, his cock was able to stretch your cunt until it burned. he re-adjusts the hand behind your knee. the other grabs the side of your ass, lifting you up and down his fat cock.

his strength still takes you aback. the thrusts were too much. your pussy was thoroughly ruined. you slowly begin to use your elbows to clamor away from the uchiha, but he grabs you tighter.

“don’t run from it.”

he’s never particularly talkative. only when he gets competitive and even then, he’d rather let his actions speak for themselves. but now, he can’t stop himself from provoking you. you were easy to rile up.

his hands on your hips slide down to grip the softness of your ass again to tug you back on his cock. your pussy makes an audible squelch when it collides against the base of his pelvis.

“what happened to all that talk earlier, hm ?” he eyes your lewd body, and god , maybe he can understand why jiraiya started waxing poetics about pretty girls.

pretty girls with pretty mouths and pretty holes to breed. he tugs at a puffy nipple, eager to put it in his mouth.

“‘I'm a big girl I can take it.’ that’s what you said, right? so show me. show me how big girls take it.”

you sniffle at the snark in his tone and condescension, but the trail of his warm tongue tracing the lines of your neck softens you.

“y’r mean sasuke.”

“and you’re a brat.”

he kisses you square on the lips, stuffing his tongue in your mouth. his thumb twirls around your clit, drawing precise patterns.

“am I still mean?”

you mewl from the redundant stroke on your achy bud .

“ a buh-big fat meanie.”

he gives one of his charming smirks that borders on a sly smile.

“but you like it. . . and you love me, which is why you said you help me, right ?”

he grabs his cock by the thickest part to pull out. he wipes his meaty tip on your sloppy mound before forcing himself back in. your walls squeeze around his girth, desperate to be full once more.

“'said you’d help me restore my clan.”

his palms pressed down on your belly, right where his cock reached. he’s stimulating all your sensitive spots, and you can barely put words together.

“god — you-you’re so . .”

he spanks your cunt and a pathetic stream of arousal escapes audibly.

he chuckles. “noisy mouth and an even noisier pussy . how cute.”

your knees want to close and push him away from you, but he doesn’t move . like an animal, he keeps you pinned down, and like prey, you can't break free from his grasp. only instead of sinking his claws into you, he sinks his cock deeper, pressing up against your womb.

“squeezing me so tightly. you must want it so bad.” he’s flushed against you, resting all his weight to keep you in place.

“want me to make you a uchiha ? my little wife ?"

“hiccup—p-please.”

“please what ?”

you whine, “make me yours.”

your legs connect at hips, pushing him further into you. he grunts, “so shameless . . . a filthy woman.”

you’re embarrassed. tears wells up in your eyes, and you look at him with adoration, even as he talks so recklessly.

“keep staring at me like that. m’ gonna breed this fat cunt all night.”

he gives you another messy kiss and there’s a surge of happiness when he matches your eagerness. he poured everything into it, tongue lapping at your lips and swallowing your precious moans.

“wan’ to make you a daddy , sasuke,” you whisper.

and he nearly bottoms out. “f-fuck.”

you reach down to grab your breast that jumps with every thrust, pulling on a pert nipple.

“gonna fuck you until my seed takes. until your tits get fat with milk.”

sasuke's on the brink of a rush . though he pursued a life of darkness and revenge, he buried that angst long ago. still, he never thought he’d live to think about things like women and starting families of his own, and now he was here making it a reality.

his mind is plagued with the images of children, a fruitful clan and the swell of your stomach.

he delivers more plunges, fat balls slapping against your seam until they throb. he expels with a sudden start, releasing inside you for the umpteenth that night.

he presses you flushed against him, determined to have nothing escape, not even a drop. he wanted to be sure that you’d be true to your word. you’d be his little wife, free to use and knock up.

sasuke rubs your belly, eyes gleaming red from the numbing intensity. he takes greedy gulps of air watching as you’re stricken with complete lust.

his name falls from your lips like a spell and there’s the familiar burn of desire swirling in his abdomen.

“one more time.”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #not my best wrk butttttt I’m jus happi 2 write abt my first anime crush evr !!!#sasuke x reader #sasuke x reader smut #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader smut #sasuke x you #sasuke x y/n #sasuke smut #naruto shippuden smut #naruto smut

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munsster · 1 year

Note

hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #unrequited crush #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #angst #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 4 months

Text

eclipse makes u a hot cocoa,, and is SMOOCHED!!!! (what happens next will shock you) ...THANKING ur ROBOT BOYFRIEND for giving u a hot cocoa GOES WRONG???? (how many kisses does it take to smother a human being???? we found out...)

aka a small late christmas gift for anyone here who likes my lil Clipsy boi,, drawing this spiraled wildly out of control bc it was only going to be the first three doodles but i was streaming it and my friends went absolutely nuts over Shy Clips Trying To Flirt U so uh. here we are i hope u like it kjsdfhsjdfhdkj

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short-honey-badger · 5 months

Text

Cherish

Pairings: Sanji Vinsmoke x Reader, One-sided Dracule Mihawk x Reader.

Summary: Mihawk bumps into the crew of the Sunny and takes an instant liking to you, but you already belong with Sanji. I would also say that this is a healthy mix of Anime and Live Action Sanji.

Warnings: Some kissing and fluff. Jelly Sanji.

This is a gift to the most wonderful @writingmysanity I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Masterlist

You wake to the feel of familiar lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes flutter open, and you are gifted with the sight of your lover hovering over your form. Sanji pulls away to smile down at you, adjusting his weight so he can caress the side of your face with one hand, “Good morning, beautiful,” he coos and bends to kiss the tip of your nose.

Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, and you admire how perfectly the two of you fit together, “Morning, Prince,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth. Sanji whines and tilts his head just enough to slant his lips against your own. It's chaste, but lovely.

“You know I love it when you call me that, Darling,” he kisses you again, just once, before moving down to press his lips to the hollow of your throat. Sanji breathes you in, taken by everything that you happily offer him.

You sigh and move your hands up, sliding one into his blonde hair to gently scratch at his scalp. The other cradles his face, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, “And you know how much I like to tease you,” You quip softly and giggle at his put out expression.

Sanji's pout smooths out when you gently tug his hair, and he follows the gentle movements as you guide him to press his lips back to yours. The two of you lose yourselves in one another, content to ignore the world outside of the bubble that has formed inside of your cabin on the Sunny.

That bubble is rudely popped when your door is slung open and none other than Luffy flings himself into the room. He launches himself at Sanji, taking the cook with him as he rolls off the bed, “Sanji! Good morning! It's time for breakfast!”

While a little miffed at the interruption, Sanji is far more annoyed and pulls at Luffy, though it does little to affect his Captain, who just stretches with him, “Luffy! I've told you that it's rude to just barge into a ladies' room!” He shouts in the other boy's face.

The warning goes right over the rubber man's head as he stands and lifts his cook with him, “Sanji. Breakfast!”

Sanji gives you an apologetic look as Luffy begins to drag him away, “I'm sorry, love! I'll see you in the galley?” He asks, and you nod at his retreating form.

“I'll meet you there after I get ready, Sanji,” you assure him, and the blonde sends you a bright grin in response before he disappears out the door. You roll your eyes at your Captain's antics before tossing the blankets off and getting up. You needed to save your dear lover before he tossed Luffy overboard.

You can smell breakfast by the time you have finished in the bathroom. It smells devine as usual, and you saunter through the door to join Sanji and whoever else is already in the kitchen. You are stopped in your tracks when a pair of yellow ringed eyes meet your own.

Dracule Mihawk looks you up and down, seemingly judging you all in a span of a second, and you watch with rising worry as a tiny smirk crosses his face. Thankfully, Zoro interrupts the stare off.

“_, this is Mihawk. He bumped into us this morning. Literally,” Zoro says, tone deadpan.

“Mhmm,” The warlord stands and you swallow thickly when he comes to a stop and gently takes your hand, “The pleasure is all mine, Darling,” he rumbles and you can feel the tension skyrocket in the room when Mihawk presses his lips delicately upon your knuckles.

His eyes never once leave yours, and he lingers for an inappropriate amount of time before finally pulling away, though he does not drop your hand. You gulp and offer your name in a voice far shaker than you intend it to be.

“Yes. Imagine my surprise when I wake to my ship bouncing off the side of yours,” He says and gently tugs you to the table. You have no choice but to sit down beside him, but he has finally let go of your hand. You scooch down from him discreetly, but the yellowed eyed man misses nothing.

Sanji sees red, and he has to force himself to breathe to make his hands stop shaking. He is beyond furious that someone who isn't him dared to lay their lips upon your body. However, he also knew that you would be upset with him if he showed his ass to someone as powerful as Mihawk. Unfortunately, Sanji wasn't strong enough to kick the warlord's ass. Yet.

He scrubs the potato in his hands furiously, trying to ignore the feeling of your eyes watching the tense line of his shoulders. Damn that Mosshead for inviting his warlord teacher onto the ship and signing Sanji up to make the yellow eyed bastard breakfast. Not that he wouldn't feed the man, but it was the principle of the thing!

The cook does a good job of ignoring the soft conversation going on behind him, and instead focuses on making you a cup of your usual tea after finishing up with the potatoes. He turns and plasters a soft smile on his face as he turns to deliver your tea.

Mihawk watches the cook, finding amusement in the way the young man narrows his eyes at him and side steps his seat to stand behind you. Understanding draws upon him when Sanji kisses your cheek as he leans around you to place the cup on the table. He watches you blush and thank the cook quietly with a soft smile filled with affection.

Sanji kisses the top of your head, blue eyes narrowing at Dracule as the warlord shamelessly watches the interaction, but the yellow eyed man says nothing. Sanji doesn't trust the look on his too handsome face.

He dismisses himself after a moment to finish up breakfast, chopping and sautéing just a bit faster than usual.

You sip your tea, trying hard to focus on the conversation that Nami and Zoro were having, but you can feel Mihawk's eyes on you. Your shoulders are tense, and you jump when the older man leans close enough to bump his arm against your own, “No need to be so frightened, Darling,” he draws softly and you gulp when you watch his lips curl into a wicked smirk, “Just having a bit of fun, is all.”

Sanji bares his teeth when he hears the warlord call you Darling. That was his pet name! His term of endearment that he favored. It itched and racked him that someone else was trying to woo you with pretty words. The sloppy way his chives had been minced told the world just how upset this was, making the swirly browed cook frown down at the poor vegetables.

“Saaanjjiii, when will breakfast be done?” Luffy whined and fell forward, head thudding into the table.

“Longer if you keep complaining, Luffy,” Sanji snaps, and you wince at the hidden anger in his voice. It gets Nami's attention as well, and you send her a helpless look. She darts her eyes between you, Mihawk, and Sanji, and you do not like the look that begins to surface in her eyes.

“_, why don't you show Hawkeye around the ship? He's never seen Sunny, have you?” Nami questions, and you frown at her false innocent tone and Cheshire cat smile. You should have known that the cat burglar would stir the pot.

Mihawk is already standing and offering you a hand up from the table, “No, I have not. I've heard the rumors about it, however,” he confirms and waits patiently for you to take his hand, leaving your tea abandoned on the table, “Come show me.”

You dart your eyes over to Sanji to see that his back is as tense as a live wire, but Mihawk is a guest on the ship, and you've been on board long enough to be able to show the warlord around, “Just a quick tour. I'd hate to miss breakfast,” you say and place your hand in Hawkeye's.

Hawkeye hums his consent, “Very well, lead the way,” he murmurs and you turn and leave the galley, unaware of the smug glance that the warlord had sent your lover.

The second the door of the galley shut, Sanji rounds on the smug faced Nami, “Why did you do that?” He demands hotly and watches as she and Zoro grin at one another.

“Don't get your panties in a wad, Shitty Cook,” Zoro scoffs and leans back to cross his arms over his chest, “Mihawk won't do anything to her, so stay here and finish breakfast.”

“Orrrr,” Nami draws out and Sanji can see the Berri in her eyes, “Let me win our bet and go running after her like the hero you are,” she teases and flicks her long hair over her shoulder with a grin.

Sanji scoffs, but his shoulders loosen just a tad. Of course, if Nami had brought something up, it would have been over money. While still upset, and yes, he did want to run after you and the warlord to make sure he didn't do anything untoward, Sanji also trusted you, and he didn't want you to think that he doubted that.

“Screw the two of you. It's rude to bet on people's love lives.” He sniffs and turns back to the stove. Sanji would make your favorite, maybe even decorate it with lots of hearts to show you just how much he loves you. Ha! Take that warlord!

You show Mihawk around Sunny, taking him to see the cola powered engines where Franky is working away and the tangerine trees that belong to Nami. Brook waves from where he sits near the helm with Jinbe, and you make sure to wave back. Chopper comes out of his office at some point, and you gently pat his head and then direct him to the galley.

You have relaxed by the time the two of you enter the crows nest, and you gesture at the weights scattered around, “Zoro stays here, but I make him share with me. No better view on Sunny than up here,” you remark and leave his side to peer out the windows. It's a beautiful day out, and you sigh in content when the sun warms you.

“Good. Someone needs to put him in his place,” Mihawk quips dryly, and you surprise yourself snorting in laughter, only to choke up when the yellow eyed man stepped close to you, looming with his height.

“Tell me, Darling,” he coos, and you flush at the tone he uses. You shiver when a cool hand is placed under your chin, and he tilts your face up so that he can meet your gaze, “Why do you stay here?”

To say that you didn't expect the question was an understatement. You lick your lips, and Dracule watches the way your pink tongue dips out for a half second as you think about how to answer.

“The crew, Sanji, saved me. Believed in me when no one else would,” You murmur and shove away the awful memories of your old life, “They let me stay, and I just… never left,” you finish lamely.

Dracule hums, and you shiver at the way he gazes at you. There is a darkness in those yellow, ringed eyes, and it makes you quake all the way to your bones. He seems to come to the conclusion of some internal argument, for he sighs dramatically, and his hand moves from holding your chin to gently cradling your jaw as a lover would.

“Just a taste then, and I will be on my way,” Mihawk states, and before you can react, the warlord is leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. You are so shocked that you do little but stand like a statue, absolutely flabbergasted that such a powerful man would want anything to do with you.

You come back to yourself when you feel the heat of his tongue prod at your lip, and you jerk yourself back and away with a gasp,”What do you think you're doing?” You demand and take a couple of steps back to put some distance between you and his sinful mouth.

The warlord huffs at you, but stays where he is, so you feel a little better that he is no longer pursuing you, “Tasting what someone has already taken,” he says, and you can still see that dark gleam in his yellow eyes. Mihawk eyes your trembling form and then turns away to the hatch that would take them back down to the deck.

“Come. Let us go before I do something I won't regret.”

You wait until he has already begun his descent before you follow after him. It's awkward, at least for you, to walk back to the galley, and you can't even describe the relief you feel when you open the door to see the entire crew has piled in the galley. You beeline to Sanji, but Mihawk is right behind you.

“Cook,” he addresses, and Sanji turns with narrowed blue eyes. He has already tucked you close, and you gladly allow Sanji to shield you from that yellow gaze that seems to see into your soul.

“Yeah?” Sanji grumbles, and his hands itch for a cigarette. Anything to keep him distracted from the way Mihawk never even looks his way, his gaze firmly glued to you.

“Cherish her, and keep her close,” Mihawk tells him, and his tone becomes smug. He doesn't seem to care that his words have the rest of the crew tuning in, Luffy even picking up the obvious tension in the room, “Least you let someone steal her away.”

Sanji scoffs, crossing his arms, and further shielding you from Mihawk, “Like I would ever allow that to happen,” he chances a glance at you and softens when he finds you gazing at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you.

Dracule nods once and then gathers up his hat and sword, “Good,” he sniffs and then turns to the door, “In that case, I'll be on my way. I've overstayed my welcome. Zoro, don't slack on your skills,” he comments and then he struts out the door, gone like he had never been there in the first place.

Sanji faces you and pulls you in for a hug, “You okay, Sweetheart?” He asks and kisses your brow after giving you a quick once over. You nod and he grins at you, “Good, now sit. I've made your favorite.”

Before you go, you pull Sanji down for a real kiss, chasing away the feeling of Mihawk's own with the touch of your lover. You would tell Sanji what happened later, but for now, you were content to finally have a nice, relaxing breakfast with your crew.

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joelmillers-whore · 6 months

Text

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right?

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin.

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make.

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked.

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly.

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time.

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked.

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were.

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you.

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter.

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating.

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare.

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength.

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”.

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”.

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”.

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame.

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way.

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class.

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance.

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit.

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic.

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep.

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable.

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head.

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor.

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer.

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone.

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song.

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you.

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you.

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face.

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk.

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”.

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students.

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot.

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight.

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with.

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

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