#I'm tired and I want this stupid project over with

[thedarkeside]

𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊

❤︎ 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡

I see so many fics where Nanami is this dream breadwinner, the ultimate provider. And I love it, it's something that I can admit to dreaming of, but thinking of this practically, that man hates his job as a salaryman.

He'd be so much better suited at home, being the absolutely perfect house husband. His natural seriousness, borderline anal retentiveness, means that everything is spick and span.

Since he's the house husband, you'd naturally have to be the financial provider, and he respects that sacrifice and makes sure that he shows his appreciation through taking his job as homemaker just as seriously as his previous corporate job. That goes to say, your homelife is as close to perfect as it ever could be.

The house is always spotless, floors vacuumed, baseboards dusted, pillows fluffed. There's always dinner on the table when you come home (he somehow always knows just what you want to eat. Call it a house husbands' instincts).

In perfect house husband fashion, Kento is incredibly attentive to all your needs when you get home from your tiring job. You've worked all day, dealing with the stress of whatever professional you're in, makin' that bread, but he makes it feel oh so worth it when you get home and can fall into your husbands arms as he greets you at the door.

I'm a fairly big advocate of a homemaker receiving proper support other than financial and typically would say that once the working spouse returns home the house care should be split more evenly. A homemaker's work is after all a 24-hour duty, so it's only fair that they themselves get some help at the end of the day. But with Kento's efficiency during the day, there's really not much left to do by the time you come home.

Chore-wise, that is.

Kento is one to consider taking care of the house as a duty, a part of his job, but he considers taking care of you as a privilege that comes with his position.

Anyone that has worked a job or held a load of responsibility knows that stress can build up in the body, the soul, and to Kento, relieving your body of that pent up stress is one of his greatest pleasures.

Whatever you need, Kento is ready. Sore shoulders? His hands are getting to work massaging the knots out. You need cuddles? He's already wrapping you in a blanket and holding you securely in his lap.

You need your back blown out? He's unbuttoning his shirt in seconds.

Kento's care and attention to detail does not just extend to his housework.

After all of his time dedicated to taking care of you, he's mastered just how to please you. He knows just how to touch you, has learned how to read what you need. A firm grasp, a tender graze, a sharp spank. Different days demand different techniques.

Sometimes you need something soft. He'll work you over gently, his thrusts slow and fluid as he presses soft kisses against your neck. He whispers in your ear praise and affection.

"You're doing so well, my love."

"I'm so proud of you."

"Let me take care of you, darling."

Other times, you need him to force your mind to shut off. He'll hold you down, rapidly thrusting into you as you plead for more. Those nights get kinkier. He'll pull out rope, cuffs, blindfolds. Anything and everything that you need to make sure that all of your pesky thoughts preoccupied with your work, a project, a presentation, a stupid conversation with a stupid partner or your stupid boss, go poof.

His switch from doting husband to a harsh dominant is intoxicating. These nights have a silent promise of hickeys, red, inflamed handprints left behind on the tender skin of your ass.

He won't be done until you're a boneless puddle, sticky with sweat but utterly satisfied.

As fun as those nights can be, he always looks forward to the aftermath more. How malleable you are in his grasp as he eases the both of you into a bath. How you look at him like he is not just everything but the only thing. The only thing that matters. The complete and utter trust that you hand over to him means more than you will ever know.

[iwanthehawktuahcookie]

I hope no one else has to experience slowly realizing that the new laptop you JUST GOT is the wrong model and doesn't meet your needs.

[immortalsins]

uni sucks so bad never come here

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[bunnyfacedbaby]

rodrick bf headcanons? 💗🤗

࣪⠀⠀𓏵⠀⠀ ׅ　 Teenage dirtbag ⠀⠀ྀི

Bf!Rodrick Heffley x Reader headcanons˚ ⠀ 𓈒

⠀⠀♱⠀⠀ ׅ summary: Some fluffy little headcanons of Rodrick Heffley being your beloved loser teenage dirtbag boyfriend ♡

◟ ͜ ᛝ warning ! ⸝⸝ tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of disagreements but nothing too bad .ᐣ

◟ ͜ ᛝ 𝒢o back ? .ᐣ

⸝⸝ ﹒ ˖ ⁺ ༝ ۫　ℬefore you guys started to date:

You and Rodrick were classmates before you guys had gotten together.

Of course, Rodrick was drawn to you and your kind nature, but the poor boy was too nervous to actually go up and talk to you!

So most of the school-year he'd spend classtime watching you from his seat— Lovesick eyes intently locked on your form as all Rodrick would do was daydream about taking you out.

But the first time you guys actually talked was when the teacher was assigning partners for a project, and thus ending with the two of you being assigned together.

Rodrick was over the moon after finding out his partner was you, but he couldn't help but feel nervous about— well, everything.

You were just so perfect in his eyes, and he knew he couldn't blow it!

Gradually, you and Rodrick got to know eachother— Ultimately becoming the best of friends once he found out that you two shared the same love for music.

You two would be attached to the hip as the both of you would practically go everywhere together!

Rodrick would always invite you to his house, or some of the gigs him and his band did at local bars, he loved seeing your face everywhere he went !!<33

⸝⸝ ﹒ ˖ ⁺ ༝ ۫　𝒟ating:

Honestly when you guys started dating I feel like Rodrick wouldn't know what to do now that he's with you, he'd ask his mom for advice on what girls want.

" Mom? What do girls like? "

I feel like Rodrick would try to be the best boyfriend for you its sosososoooo cute :((

He'd try to take you out often or spend time with you, most of your dates were at the gas station, or napping on his bed.

Poor boy would feel so bad that he can't take you out anywhere fancy and expensive, please reassure him and tell him you love him!!<33

Rodrick would be the type of boyfriend that would show you off to everyone, whether it be his band-mates or his family— Especially Greg,

" Yeah, she's my girlfriend. You jealous or something? "

His mom would ADORE you, his father would be worried whenever Rodrick would do something stupid.

Rodrick would make sure to shower more often, and wash his band shirts with his mom's lavender scented laundey detergent instead of leaving them to rot on his bed.

Soft moments like cuddling on his bed while you comb through knots on his messy mop of hair makes him feel so warm and gushy.

Please remind this man to wash off his eyeliner because HE WILL go to bed looking like a panda.

He loves you so much that he'd have a hard time saying no to you.

If you guys ever get into a fight, be expected to hear tire screeches on your driveway and frantic knocking.

Rodrick would stand out on your porch with a plastic wrapped bouqet of flowers from the super market, a bag of your favorite snacks, and a burned CD of your favorite songs as an apology.

" Uh, here— And i'm.. Um, sorry. "

He just loves you sososososoooooooo much!! Hug him and tell him you love him aaa :((

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ✧˖°.

miya atsumu x f!reader

atsumu drops off dinner for you at the campus library, where he helps demonstrate a steamy scene for your creative writing thesis. for research purposes, of course.

part thirteen of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

content warning: this chapter contains sexually explicit content and is intended for readers 18+!

Atsumu had only ever been to the campus library three times.

The first was for a group project freshman year, where he sat in a study room for two hours while his smarter, more anal classmates did the entire thing. The second was to print out a sign asking his ex-girlfriend to a frat formal — after she'd complained that he never did anything romantic for her.

The third came about when he FaceTimed you after volleyball practice at 10:03 PM on a Tuesday. And, fortunately for you, he'd grown up a little at this point.

"Hello, Miss Librarian," Atsumu whistled, propping you up inside of his locker as his teammates clamored around him in various states of undress. He flung his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and grinned. "How's the writin' confinement goin'?"

"Horrible," you answered, fingers slipping past your reading glasses as you massaged your tired, screen-fatigued eyes. "Why did I ever sign up to write a fifty-page thesis? Do I have zero self-respect?"

"Please. Yer only realizin' that now?" Atsumu retorted. At your withering stare, he said, "I'm kiddin'! Sure, writing an entire story is hard, but nothin' worth doin' is easy, right?"

"Wow," Sakusa drawled, slamming his locker door beside Atsumu. "What fortune cookie did you pull that from?”

Atsumu ignored his teammate and turned back to you. "I'm assumin' ya haven't eaten dinner yet, either?"

"No," you admitted, chewing on the drawstrings of your hoodie. "I had a protein bar from the library vending machine, but I'm pretty sure it expired in 2005."

Pulling on his own hoodie, Atsumu grabbed his phone, slammed the locker door shut, and slung his gym bag over a shoulder. "Just hang in there, alright? I'll be there in fifteen with food."

"Are you sure?" you asked as Aran mimicked the sound of a whip somewhere in the distance. "You already had a long day with practice. I don't want to bother you."

"What? No, ya ain't botherin' me," Atsumu promised, shoving his team captain off-screen with his free hand. "I love goin' to the library — exposin' myself to all that knowledge and asbestos. It's a real campus treasure."

That's how he ended up here. A broken umbrella in one hand. A soaked paper bag of burritos in the other. Stumbling across campus in the middle of a torrential downpour like the fool that he was.

"Stupid piece of crap," Atsumu murmured, flinging the defective contraption into the trash bin of the library's first-floor lobby. It clamored to the bottom with a loud clank.

A security guard glared up at him from the circulation desk. Atsumu raised his hand with a wince. "Sorry."

Atsumu never understood why you liked the library so much. The floors were far too quiet, the smell of the carpet too musty. In fact, as he took the elevator up to the fifth floor and knocked on the door to your private study room, he felt like a visitor at a state penitentiary.

"Thanks for coming," you sighed, letting him into the cramped room you had reserved since 9:00 AM that morning. Your mouth practically watered at the greasy paper bag in his arms. "That smells divine."

Meanwhile, Atsumu plopped your late-night dinner atop the wooden desk and looked around the room with his hands on his hips.

"Yer tellin' me you've been locked in here all day?" he asked, taking in the dreary beige walls, the single vision panel in the door. "There ain't even windows to the outside!"

"Please. It wasn't like I was gonna get a ton of Vitamin D today anyways," you retorted, gesturing to Atsumu's wet hair and soaked sneakers. You grabbed the blanket you'd brought from home and wrapped it around yourself. "I think it's cozy."

"Claustrophobic's more like it," Atsumu murmured. "Will ya eat yer dinner please? Ya look malnourished."

You sat in silence while you both ate your burritos from their tin-foil wraps, the smell of salsa and queso and fresh guacamole seeping into the walls. Atsumu licked his fingers clean and plucked a page of your thesis from the stack scattered across the desk, his dark brows furrowing in concentration.

"So what scene in your thesis has got ya this worked up?"

You exhaled slowly, tossing your dirty napkin onto the table. "The smut scene. My TA thinks I'm 'playing it safe,' but I don't know what the fuck that means."

"Playin' it safe?" Atsumu scoffed. "Yer not trying to rewrite Fifty Shades 'ere."

"That's what I told her!" you cried, throwing your hands into the air. "She said she wants to see my main character fully loose herself in the heat of the moment, stop thinking so critically about everything. But I just...I don't know how to capture that."

Atsumu hummed thoughtfully as you stood from the table and began clearing your dinner.

"Well, maybe ya don't know how to write about it because ya haven't experienced it for yerself."

You paused by the trash can, the air in the study room somehow stiller than it was before. You slowly spun on your heel to meet Atsumu's eye.

"Are you saying I've never had good sex before?"

Atsumu blinked at the slight tilt in your voice. The challenge it carried.

"No," he said, although the grin slowly pulling at his lips told you otherwise. "I'm just sayin' you've never been with me."

"Wow," you drawled. Atsumu laughed.

"I mean, look! I didn't know what yer previous boyfriend was like, but I can assure you, he ain't nothin' like me."

"That's awfully bold of you to say. You know, as someone who isn't my boyfriend," you pointed out.

It had been a few weeks since you and Atsumu had blurred the lines between friendship and more, and while you hadn't exactly defined what that more meant, it hadn't included anything overtly physical. Between your thesis meetings and Atsumu's hectic volleyball schedule, the both of you were too tired, too busy to explore that part of your relationship.

But that didn't mean you weren't curious.

In fact, as Atsumu reached across the cramped room and gently pulled you into his lap, you wondered why you hadn't acted on that curiosity sooner.

"I'm just sayin', maybe it'll be helpful to have some real-life experience to draw from," he suggested with an easy shrug. "Why don't ya read for me the first few lines of the scene, and I'll tell ya what I would do instead?"

"...okay," you huffed in bemusement, selecting the correct page and nestling into Atsumu's warm embrace. He rested his chin atop your shoulder as you read. "His lips crashed into hers without any sort of indecision, his desire potent. Unmistakeable —"

"Nah. Nuh-uh."

"What?" you laughed, dropping the page into your lap. "Is it really that bad?"

"It ain't bad, it's just...sudden!" Atsumu stammered. "If I were the love interest, I would slow things down. Tease her. Leave her wantin' more."

"Oh?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "And how exactly would you do that?"

"Well," he began, staring up at you suggestively. "Can I demonstrate? Ya know, for research purposes?"

You smirked at the confidence in his voice, the way his fingers gently began massaging the flesh of your hips.

"Why, what are you gonna do?" you asked, your voice low. Humored. "Have sex with me on top of this table?"

"Please," Atsumu scoffed, his breath hot on your lips. "I may be down bad for ya, babe, but I'm still classy."

Your eyes scanned his face, the mixture of cockiness and affection there.

You parted your lips and said, "Show me, then."

Dimples deepening on either side of his grin, Atsumu leaned in and brought your lips to his.

Just as he'd promised, his movements were slow, languid. Almost as if he were savoring you. Your hand found purchase at the base of his neck, his at the small of your back. His touch was warm, fortifying. You longed for it elsewhere the deeper he kissed you.

His other hand slid out from beneath your knee and gently worked its way up your thigh.

"...is this okay?" he murmured, thumb brushing back and forth across the thin material of your leggings.

You nodded, a light gasp escaping you as he parted your legs and massaged the flesh of your inner thigh. He chuckled lowly against your lips.

"Easy now, sweetheart. I'm just gettin' started."

You didn't know what it was — the scent of rain in his hair, the way his Kansai accent bent around the word sweetheart, but your thoughts grew fuzzy.

The seconds stretched on as Atsumu took his time with you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. Tongue working against yours. Hand kneading your thigh at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Your first kiss with Atsumu had felt spontaneous, hurried. Like a secret you couldn't wait to tell each other. This, on the other hand, felt anything but. This time, Atsumu kissed you like he was studying you. What you tasted like. What made you moan. How long he could touch you before you started aching for more.

You broke the kiss only to change positions, the wooden chair creaking beneath you as you straddled him.

"T-Tsumu..." you managed between jagged breaths, his lips now tracing the curve of your jaw, sucking the sensitive spot behind your ear. "...the window..."

"We can stop," he said thickly, though the sheer pressure of his lips on your skin suggested otherwise. "Want me to stop?"

"No," you said firmly, grip tightening in his hair.

"Then don't think 'bout it. Ain't no one lookin' in here anyways.” He pulled his mouth away, cupped your chin, and gently turned your face towards his. “Just focus on me, babe. It’s just us two.”

His lips caught yours once more, your kisses hungrier. More desperate. Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt him, every inch of him, harden through his dark grey sweatpants. A barely restrained moan slipped past his lips as you, without thinking, gently rolled your hips against his.

“Fuck,” he ground out, the friction of his erection between your legs enough to make his eyes roll back.

"...so much for teasing me," you said amusedly, steadying your hands on his shoulders as you moved. God, the friction was phenomenal.

"Please," Atsumu huffed, hands sinking into your hips as he dragged you back and forth across the length of his clothed cock. "Do ya even know what other things I've wanted to do to ya, babe?"

His question alone sent a shiver down your spine.

"I think I have a pretty good idea of what you'd want to do to me, too," he drawled, leaning his head back as you continued pleasuring yourself. "I mean, all those stories ya made me read? All those filthy sentences ya write?"

"Yeah?" You refused to give him the upper hand in this, but the way your voice cracked betrayed you entirely.

"'She rode his cock the same way she wrote her novels. Furiously. Without a doubt of whether or not she was good at it,'" he recited from your first creative writing story of the year. "Think you'd be good at it, babe?"

The mere fact that he remembered that was enough to have you stammering out your next words.

"We...we could try..."

The smirk he gave you drove you mad.

"I don't want the first time I fuck ya to be on a table, sweetheart," he admitted. "...I wanna enjoy ya properly."

"...Tsumu, fuck..."

"...wanna treat ya right. Put my mouth on that pretty pussy of yours and put all yer sentences to shame." The chair beneath you squeaked even louder now as he said, "I bet ya taste good, too. Just like the rest of ya."

Despite yourself, you moaned at that. Loudly.

"I swear to God, Tsumu, if you don't shut your mouth — "

He grazed his lips against your own, cutting you off mid-sentence.

"Then what? You'll realize I'm pretty good at teasin' ya after all?"

You don't know how much longer you could've lasted at that point. Blushing furiously. Grinding against his clothed cock like your life depended on it. He felt so good between your legs, you could only imagine how much better it would feel without your stupid leggings on.

"God, Tsumu, I'm so wet..." you ground out, eyes fluttering shut. Heat building in your lower belly. “…so close…”

"Yeah?" His lips pulled into a lazy grin. "Ya can cum for me if ya want. I won’t mind.”

He gripped your ass and moved you faster, harder against him, the pressure between your legs at a near-boiling point as you moaned his name.

"...that's my girl," Atsumu breathed, watching your eyes roll back in sheer bliss. "Use me, baby. Show how much ya want me.”

A jagged whine escaped your throat as you came, a wave of pleasure ricocheting across your every nerve, every muscle. Atsumu cursed under his breath as he continued to drag you back and forth across him, hips gradually slowing as you rode out your orgasm.

The thin material between your legs was soaked by the time you had finished.

“Do you…” you asked him in between breaths, chest heaving. “…do you want me to…?”

"Huh?" Atsumu followed your gaze toward the hard-on still in his pants. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Oh! Nah. I-I mean, yes, I’d love that, but we don’t need to now.”

An easy smile tugged at lips as he leaned in to kiss you. “What matters most to me is that ya feel good, baby.”

Your face flushed as you stood from his lap and began readjusting your clothes. “Since when did you start calling me pet names?”

“Since…now, I s’pose.” Atsumu leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Why? Ya like it?”

“It felt a little weird at first, but…I also came without ever taking my clothes off, so it clearly worked.”

The way he laughed made your chest ache in affection. Head tilted back. Shoulders shaking. Dimples on full display. You wished you could photograph this moment and keep it in your back pocket forever.

He folded his arms across his chest and shot you a humored look. “Ya got everything ya need for yer thesis now?”

“Think so,” you replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Thank you, Tsumu.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You returned to your own chair across the table from him and immediately cracked open your laptop.

“…but just so you know,” you said, eyes never leaving the screen as you began typing away. “The next time I sit on your lap like that, I expect you to take my clothes off, first."

Atsumu didn’t know what it was — be it the unrelenting tent in his pants, or the sheer confidence in which you’d just said that, but the tips of his ears turned bright red.

“I — ya can’t just say stuff like that and keep workin’!”

You smirked up at him from your computer and shrugged noncommittally.

“Two can play at that game, sweetheart.”

His dick throbbed in his pants long after you continued to write.

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[gothicfied]

ugh wait i had a thought: imagine coloring in nam gyu's tattoos!!

Ink Lines - Nam-gyu Oneshot

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader, No Squid Game AU

Word Count: ~900 Words

Warnings: Mentions of drug usage, scars, Nam-gyu smokes, slight swearing, Nam-gyu and Reader are in a relationship, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: Again, this request is literally several months old and I'm so sorry that I only came around now to write for it, Anon! This request is actually so cool, I can't believe I didn't write for it sooner. Anyway, better late than never so: Enjoy!

The evening was warm with only the summer wind cooling you off on this day in the middle of August. Nam-gyu traded his usual night shift at The Pentagon just to spend a little more time with you — Time that the both of you usually didn't have for each other because of your jobs.

He was sitting in the same squeaky garden chair right next to you and held your hand, resting his arm on the cold metal arm rest. You've ran out of things to say to each other at least an hour ago and were now just enjoying the calm and peaceful silence. You felt Nam-gyu's thumb trace across the back if your hand absentmindedly as he was busy tipping away on his phone in his lap.

This is how it could always be. Tranquil, nice, with no worries in the world. You were watching the sunset and occasionally listened in on the conversation your neighbors had on the balcony right next to yours.

At some point you got bored at doing nothing, but you were also a little to tired to come up with anything else for you two to do. Your eyes started to wander over your boyfriends figure, his little smile as he watched some stupid videos on his phone, and his arms. Old scars and traces of drug usage were still apparent on them, and everytime you saw them you were grateful you got him to stop. For you, it wasn't ideal that Nam-gyu continued to work in that god awful nightclub, but the money was needed.

Your gaze lingered on the tattoos that also decorated his skin. Some of them you could just shake your head to, but that's just who your boyfriend was: Impulsive, careless, free. Everything he put on his skin was a direct reflection of his character and you liked that he stayed true to himself.

After a few seconds, you got an idea to cure your boredom: "Can I do something?"

At the sudden sound of your voice, Nam-gyu slightly flinched, then looked at you with a small grin. "Whatever you want, babe." Carefully, you removed your hand from his after squeezing it for the last time and got up from your chair. Nam-gyu just watched you struggle to open the balcony door and how you quickly retreated back inside your shared apartment.

A few minutes later, which he had spent looking for his already opened pack of cigarettes, you came back with a rather interesting item. "What's that?" Nam-gyu asked you with a confused look on his face, finally finding what he searched for in his other pocket.

You just smiled at him, so sickly sweet he swore he could die from it. In your hand were a couple of markers you had bought just a week ago for some art project you wanted to start.

"Wait, you'll see." You pulled your own chair closer to his and sat back down again, grabbing his left arm. Most of Nam-gyu's tattoos were already done with colored ink, only the small moth on his left arm right above his wrist and a few others were left black and white.

You, again, inspected the tattoo and decided you wanted to use the red first. Nam-gyu raised an eyebrow: "The fuck is this gonna be? You gonna color it in?" He shot you a smile as soon as you nodded. "Make sure it turns out pretty, though."

The felt tip of the marker started tracing along the inner corners of the moth's wings as you carefully drew on his skin. Nam-gyu just stuck a cigarette between his lips and gave you the lighter, obviously wanting you to help him.

You resumed your coloring while your boyfriend was just — in your humble opinion — ruining his lungs. But that was one of the things he couldn't give up, like he always told you.

"What color do you want for it's body?"

"Blue."

He took another drag from his cigarette, switchinh back and forth from watching the sunset and you coloring his tattoo in. Nam-gyu must admit, it was one of the most adorable things ever.

The marker slightly tickled his skin as you dragged it delicatly across his arm. "Hey stop moving so much, you're gonna fuck up my drawing." Nam-gyu laughed at the annoyance in your voice and just said "Okay, okay, okay.." occasionally moving his arm on purpose just to see you get worked up over it and kiss you to make you calm down.

After a couple of minutes you moved up to the next tattoo on his upper arm. The man mustered your work and pressed a kiss on your forehead for the job well done.

"You like it?"

"It's perfect, my love."

"Well, obviously."

"You should do this more often."

You looked up to your boyfriend, your heart fluttering thr moment your eyes met his. The both of you have been in a relationship for the past two years, yet he still gives you butterflies in your stomach — It's actually your favorite thing about your relationship.

"Whatever you want, babe."

[saphiccarma]

Hi! I saw your requests were back to being open so I would love to send in one if that’s not an issue! Could you do a wandanat x reader where Wanda and Natasha are both professors at a university where school and notice she’s slowly getting more and more burnt out and make it their mission to make her relax/ take care of herself. If comfy mommy Wanda and if not that’s fine! Not too dark smut but smut would be great! Yoy don’t have to make this your priority and don’t forget to take care of yourself!

- Overworked 18+

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - When your collage proffesors notice you're starting to become burnt out, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: Soft dom Wanda, Daddy Nat (barely tho), scissoring, fingering, breast play, bath sex, gentle sex

A/N: I'm so sorry 😭this took me forever to get to , but ngl pretty proud of how it turned out

You could hear Natasha talking in front of the class, her words cutting through the air sharp and clear like a knife through butter. Very few students filled the room, either the unlucky ones or the ones dumb enough to take Natasha's class - Slavic Languages. You were a mix of both. Slavic languages was a class you'd been wanting to take ever since you got accepted into the university, but everyone tried to avoid Natasha at all costs, taking other classes instead.

The paper in front of you was a mix of words that swirled together and blurred into black smudges on the white sheet. Pencil shaking in your hand, you place your other on your wrist in a pathetic attempt to stop the trembling. It was most likely a side affect of the caffeine, as was your pounding heart, another energy drink sitting in your bag. Now you regret your spot in the front of class, just another excuse to be close to your girlfriend, but it made her eyes on you all the more intense.

Sharp green eyes flicked to you every now and then, taking in your messy hair and oversized sweatshirt that hung off your frame. The article of clothing still smelled like Natasha, vanilla and something uniquely her, keeping you somewhat grounded.

As you glanced up from your paper, forcing yourself to look away from the jumble of words, you caught Natasha's eye. She tilted her head subtly, a motion that only you noticed. A slight twitch of her eyebrow voiced the unspoken question, and you gave a small smile in hopes it'll appease her. Ever attentive, her eyes narrowed at the weak tilt of your lips but then a student raised his hand, and she had to leave you be for now.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips and your tired shoulders deflate. Natasha notices, based on the way her gaze flickers to you, but she's too busy answering the question in a sharp tone of voice that indicated it was something stupid to ask. Natasha took zero nonsense, one of the things that made her class so hard to pass, but it was something you loved about her.

Unfortunately, when class came to an end, that ended up backfiring on you. She caught your arm as the rest of the students trailed out. You almost wince at her tight grip before she loosens it, but her expression remains hard, eyebrows knitted together, and lips pursed.

"What's going on with you?" She asks, straight to the point, "Wanda and I have texted you dozens of times this morning and last night, yet you've answered none of them."

There's was a sharp reprimand to her tone that had you shrinking back into yourself, but also an underlying layer of concern that peaked through her rough demeanor. You avert your eyes down, a habit they've been trying to break, and shrug.

"I dunno," you mumble, "Been busy."

"Busy?" Natasha repeats slowly, the word falling off her lips like it's the first time she's heard it. You can tell you said the wrong thing.

Hastily, you try and explain, to backtrack, "I've been caught up with school, like half of my teachers have assigned tests or projects and I dunno, I'm just having to focus on those, but I think I can come over this weekend and-" You weren't aware you were rambling until Natasha huffs out an impatient breath.

There's a long stretch of silence where her thumb simply rubs circles on your shoulder. You can see the gears turning in her head, practically hear them, as she thought out her response. It wasn't often that it took her so long to respond, Natasha was rather quick-witted, so this meant it was either something very simple or something complicated.

"I want you at the house tonight," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument even as you open your mouth to protest, "5 o'clock sharp for dinner, да?"

You lick your lips, already considering the amount of homework you would have. Then you take in the stern look on Natasha's face and nod with pursed lips and a taught expression. She gives you a small, yet appraising smile in return.

^__________________^

You show up with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your laptop and various textbooks crammed inside as it weighs on your shoulders. The chances of you staying the night were high, almost certain, so you might as well get some work done after dinner.

You don't bother with a knock, picking up the spare key from where you dropped it and unlocking the door with shaky fingers. Fresh spices and peppermint candles drift through the air, both potent smells that you've grown used to. With the winter here, Wanda had taken to lighting peppermint scented candles, something that Natasha fought her on.

Their bickering, playful and light, echoed from the kitchen softly and you smiled. It was something familiar, something that pierced through the foggy cloud in your brain. Dropping your bag by the door, landing with a heavy thump, you meander over to the kitchen, lingering in the doorway for a second.

Wanda notices you first, eyes shining with joy that seem to glow even brighter as she spots you. You meet her halfway, steps hurried, and burrow into her embrace with a tired sigh. She smells like the candles that are lit on the counter and a hit of cinnamon. Her hands curl around your neck, long fingers toying with the short strands at the nape and you relish in her touch.

"How are you?" she murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. She slips her hand beneath your shirt and beings to scratch the skin underneath, manicured nails dragging up and down lightly. All you give her in response is a content hum.

Her fingers that were around your neck find your chin, tilting it up gently, "Words, дорогой."

"I'm good," you mumble, licking your lips before she rewards you with a soft kiss to your lips, nose brushing against yours. She pulls away, taking her warmth with her, and busies herself in the kitchen once more. Since Natasha was utterly useless at anything but baking, Wanda did most of the cooking between the two of you.

With the loss of Wanda's comfort, you shuffle over to Natasha who's leaning on the counter. The older woman opens her arms without a word, and you burrow your face into her chest. Her chest rumbles as she laughs, a vibration that shoots straight to your heart and makes you melt.

She rests her chin and chats quietly with Wanda, their conversation going right over your head, both literally and figuratively. All you can focus on is the feeling of Natasha's strong arms wrapped around you, the soft fabric of her hoodie that presses against your cheek, her hand that rubs up and down your back in a soothing motion.

In the back of your mind, you know you should work on homework while Wanda finishes dinner, probably some warm Sokovian dish from her childhood, but being safe in your girlfriend's arms was too distracting. You turn your head and place a soft kiss on her neck, meant to just be a gesture of affection. As you do so you catch a glance at the clock, internally groaning. Pressing another kiss to her smooth skin, you extract yourself from her arms and grab your backpack.

Natasha huffs in disappointment but doesn't say anything as you take a seat at the table, pulling your laptop out and setting to work. The chef glances back with a fond smile on her face that quickly turns into a frown as she notices you starting to type on the laptop.

"дорогой, why don't you put the laptop away for now?" She requests softly. It's not a command, not yet at least, but there's a good chance it will turn into one.

"I have homework to do," The keys click slightly beneath your fingers as you start on an essay, the topic rather simple, but that was exactly the problem. You could explain it in just a page, maybe even less if you needed to, but the essay required three pages. Both of the other woman exchange a glance you miss.

Wanda exhales sharply but leaves you be as she continues on dinner. The words come to you slowly, as if you're pulling every single one of them from a pit of quicksand and they weigh a thousand pounds each as you chuck them onto the paper. It was such an easy task yet you were exhausted from working on it for just a few minutes.

You bounce your leg beneath the table, foot tapping on the wooden floor in a rapid movement as you chew on your chapped lips. It's another habit that you've been trying to break but to no avail, especially with the stress of the last few weeks. Your girlfriends cast a worried look in your direction at the sound of your foot hitting the floor and a frustrated exhale.

They had some sort of freaky marriage telepathy, in all honesty you weren't sure, but they seemed to be able to communicate through just words with each other. At times it was annoying and at other times it was convenient for all three of you. Such as now, where you were so focused on your work you didn't even notice.

Faintly, you register Wanda and Natasha bustling about, plating food for themselves and one for you. The words on the document float off the screen ever so slightly and you sigh, shaking your head to clear your sight before starting again.

A plate of food is slide in front of you, chicken coated in an orange sauce that smells heavenly, but you ignore it. After a moment your laptop is snatched away from you.

"Hey!" you protest, snapping your head up and immediately curling in on yourself when you notice Natasha's firm look, daring you to say more. Your next words are mumbled, "Sorry."

She rolls her eyes fondly but jerks her head towards your plate as she sets your laptop on the counter, "Eat."

Wanda slides into the seat next to you, her hand coming to rest on your thigh and rub slow circles as you eat. It's becoming increasingly harder to focus and you can feel your head getting foggy, slipping into a familiar space. The two talk casually through the course of the meal, but your brain keeps switching between shutting down and drifting towards the impending homework assignments.

Shoveling another spoonful of food into your mouth, flavor bursting across your tastebuds and burning the back of your throat slightly. Only half your plate is gone when you stand from the table, carrying it to the sink and gently dumping the rest of the food into the trash. You can feel Wanda's eyes on your back as you pick your laptop, hardly looking at them, and plopping down on the couch.

The essay is waiting for you, daunting as ever and you almost give up and decide to watch a movie. But regardless, it was due tonight, and you only have about half of it done. The scrapping of chairs and the running water as the dishes clink together fill your ears as you hear Wanda and Natasha clean up.

A part of you feels bad for not helping. Glancing back, your heart clenches as you see the two engrossed in domestic bliss, smiling and laughing as they clean up. You swallowed thickly and forced your head to turn away, force your eyes to stop narrowing in on Natash's arms, her ass, her bright smile and Wanda's nose, the way her nose scrunched when she smiled, and her waist.

Eventually you hear the sink shut off, the chatter slow down, and the soft thump of footsteps. You exhale sharply as your train of thought vanishes, brows furrowing in annoyance and nose scrunching. The couch dips under an added weight and Natasha's arm drapes itself over your shoulders.

"What are you working on?" Her voice is a husky whisper that sends shivers. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling the skin of your ear.

"An essay," you mumble, fingers faltering as her tongue pokes out to trace the shell of your ear. Breath hitching, you turn your head away, a ridiculously hard task, and scooch over. Your girlfriend huffed with both surprise and annoyance.

Wanda entered the living room with two wine glasses, passing one to Natahsa, "Let her work, Natalia."

You didn't notice it then, but there was a light smile on her face and an almost teasing lilt to her voice. Eyes drifting you notice the wine glasses Wanda brought and you perk up a little.

"Do I get one?" you ask hopefully, meeting Wanda's eyes. The auburn-haired woman sits down onto the armchair, her legs folding beneath her elegantly. She raised an eyebrow, face the perfect imitation of unimpressed.

"Are you working on an essay?" At your nod, she smiles sharply, "Then, no, you do not."

You pout, lower lip jutting out and eyes shining with childish desire, but neither phases Wanda. It never did. It was always Natasha who folded first, but even as you turn your gaze towards her, she merely takes a dainty sip of her wine. Puffing air out your mouth you return to your computer.

Time seems to drag on impossibly slow and you can hear the other two women sitting in silence, merely sipping their drinks. You sneak a glance at Natasha. Her thumb is pressed into the spine of a book as she flips the pages every now and then. Stray tresses of hair frame her sharp face, her emerald eyes focused on the book. A worn hoodie hides the curve of her neck, but you can still picture it and how soft it would be between your lips.

A heat curls in your stomach, low and hardly noticeable, and you force yourself to look away before you can get too distracted. You can feel your eyelids grow heavy despite the fire that sparks in your veins. The movement of your fingers grows slower, typing sluggishly along the keyboard.

You aren't sure how long it is before your computer is snatched away from you again. Wanda snaps it shut, folding it under arm with an unamused look.

"Does this mean I can have wine now?" You quip sheepishly, giving her a cheeky smile.

Wanda sighs and her hand runs over your hair lovingly, "No, it means it's time for a bath and bed."

You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering for a moment before you pull back with a slight pout. You can't go to bed now, you still have to finish the essay, but Wanda doesn't look like she'll budge. Eyes flickering to towards Natasha for help, the other woman is only focused on her book and sipping wine.

"I need to finish my essay."

"Not tonight," Wanda's tone softens and she cups your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eyes, "Sweetheart you have bags under your eyes, and I can see how exhausted you are. C'mon, we'll go take a warm bath and Natalie will make some hot cocoa after she finishes up, hm?"

Natasha hums absently to show she acknowledged the fact, yet you remain stubbornly set on the fact you need to finish your essay. Exhaling slowly at your stubborn expression, Wanda sets your laptop down on the table before sliding into your lap. Your breath hitches at the unusual position and your hands hover by her hips awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, eyes flicking to her chest, the small amount of cleavage revealed before back to her face. There's a small smile on her pale lips, eyes shining in amusement. Her hands trail up your sides, stopping when she reaches your shoulders and Wanda leans in close.

Instead of responding verbally she ducks her head, breath warm on the skin of your neck, and her lips dance teasingly over your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath through your nose, thighs pressing together, and hands coming to rest on her waist.

She plants a soft kiss on your collarbone, then a bit higher to your jugular, and finally to your jaw. Raising her head her lips meet yours and you let your eyes fall shut. It's soft and tender, filled with love and devotion, not the usual violent clash of teeth and tongue.

When she pulls away her nail traces the side of your face, "You can be a good girl for mommy, right? Take a bath and get ready for bed?" All it takes is those words to have you nodding like a lovesick puppy. Her smile widens and she taps your nose, "Good girl."

Wanda slips off your lap and onto her feet, offering you her slender hand. You take it, letting her pull you to your feet and guide you through the luxurious house and to the room upstairs. It smells of lavender up here, a contrast to the distinct peppermint downstairs, and the bathroom is cooler than the rest of the house.

Releasing your hand, Wanda starts the bathtub, letting warm water fill the container. Steam starts to rise into the air, already fogging up the mirrors and heating the room. She turns back towards you, smile soft and eyes kind. She works delicately, slowly even, to undress you.

"Let Mommy help you," she murmurs when you try to protest, "You've been a big girl for long enough."

Her words have you melting as your arms raise to allow her to tug the shirt over your head. With familiar ease she reaches around to unclasp your bra, letting it fall on top of your shirt, and then she's undoing the button to your jeans. Graceful fingers dip beneath your panties, and she goes dangerously close to your dripping slit just to tease before pulling your panties down.

By the time she's undressed you, the tub is filled with warm water. Wanda peels off her own clothes next, much swifter than she had with you. The older woman steps into the bath, sinking into the water with a sigh, and gesturing to the space in front of her.

It doesn't take words for you to settle between her spread thighs, leaning back against her bare breasts. The warm water envelops you like a comforting embrace, wrapping around you just like Wanda's arm as she begins to dance her fingers up your side.

You shiver. One of her hands leaves your skin to pump some shampoo and her lathers it onto your scalp. You relax into the sensation, leaning even further back and letting her massage your scalp and play with your hair. A cup of warm water is dumped over your head, and you close your eyes to keep the soapy water out.

Next is conditioner, gently applied like the shampoo. Wanda takes her time, pouring love and care into her movements and small actions. After she rinses out the condition with a few dumps of water over your head, she presses a kiss to your neck.

She doesn't stop there, trailing them from your jaw to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. One of her hands swipes under your breast, teasing, and you whimper slightly.

"Let Mommy take care of you," she breathes in your ear, biting onto your earlobe.

A small whine of agreement passes your lips as her other hand trails down your stomach and settles between your thighs. Two of her fingers part your folds before dipping in, circling around your clit slowly. You let out a shuddering thigh, your head falling back.

Her touch is featherlight, not nearly enough to get off on, but you can still feel your body heating and you know it's not from the bath. Lips still dancing along your neck, she tweaks your nipple between her fingers, rolling and pinching it.

"Wanda," you whisper, voice filled with desire and need.

She chuckles softly against your neck and slips a single finger into your heat, your walls clenching around the digit and sucking her in greedily, "That's not my name, дорогой."

"Mommy," leaves your lips in a breathless plea, her thumb rubbing your clit slowly. All her touches are maddeningly slow, not enough to settle the ache between your thighs and in the pit of your stomach.

"Good girl," she praises and as a reward her pace picks up. The hand on your breast plucks at your nipple until it’s hard and straining in her touch. She switches to its twin, lathering it with the same attention while her fingers work down below.

She adds a second finger to the first, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside of you. A shaky moan falls from your lips as you lean on her shoulder, eyes falling shut. Wanda takes advantage of your exposed neck, biting and sucking love marks onto it, her lips not leaving a single spot untouched.

Her thumb presses against your clit, the little nub pulsing and throbbing with need. Scissoring her fingers, Wanda bites on that sensitive spot just below your ear, smoothing the sting with her tongue. She tweaks your nipple as she thrusts her fingers up harshly.

You gasp, the sound turning into a moan, back arching and walls fluttering around her digits. The need to come builds in your stomach rapidly and you tense up, thighs beginning to shake. Wanda's hair tickles your shoulder as she bites your shoulder, her lips sucking on the mark to leave a hickey.

The bath water is growing cold, but that does nothing to deter the heat that flows freely through your body. Wanda splits her fingers inside your walls, stretching you open for her and her thumb presses down harshly. Whimpering, you claw at the edges of the tub, the smooth surface providing little traction.

Lips parting, you pant slightly, "Mommy- 'm gonna cum, please."

She stretches your cunt out, pulling at your nipple as she kiss your neck. The sensations flow through you like water through a pipe, overwhelming all your senses. All you can smell is her cinnamon perfume and body wash. All you can feel is her fingers, spreading you open and playing with you. Her breath is light in your ear, hot and laced with desire as she speaks.

"Go ahead."

With a final curl of her fingers and squeeze of your breast, pure unadulterated pleasure courses through you. Your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching and toes curling beneath the water. Wanda works you down from your high, keeping her fingers lazily pumping in and out of your cunt, while she presses soft kisses to your neck.

"Such a good girl," she praises, tilting your head to kiss your lips, "Let's get you dried up hm?"

You nod hazily, eyes glazed over and brain foggy. The sight makes Wanda smile. She slips out of the bathtub first, wrapping a towel around her frame before pulling the plug and helping you out. You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself before you're wrapped in a cozy towel.

"Go see Daddy," she instructs, words gentle, "She'll get you dressed."

There aren’t many thoughts in your head anymore as you exit the bathroom, shuffling up to Natahsa who wraps your arms around you, not caring that you're still wet. She kisses the top of your head before pulling back.

Natasha dries you off with meticulous care, rubbing the fluffy towel up and down your body with soft words of praise and love. She bunches it up in her hands and drapes it over your head, ruffling your hair as she dries it, drawing a small giggle from you.

Kissing your nose, Natasha stops her fluffy assault on your head and instead snags an over-sized t-shirt from the bed that smells distinctly vanilla, a clear indication it was her. Wanda emerges from the bathroom, hair damp and wearing a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt.

When you go to move over to her, she meets you halfway, wrapping her arms around you just like Natasha had, "Sleepy time, hm?"

You nod into her neck, yawning sleepily. Words are practically impossible to form right now, so you don't speak, instead letting Wanda guide you to the bed and under the sheets. Curling into her, you feel Natasha settle next to you, her arm draping over your waist.

Humming in contentment, Wanda's fingers begin to card through your hair softly, undoing the tangles and knots from the bath. Natasha's breathing grows heavy quickly and you feel your eyelids falling shut. As Wanda begins to hum a song softly, you let sleep claim you.

[iqxatlantic]

" FRIENDS ! "

multi chara imagines yummy! nawt proofread btw..

ft. michael kaiser . rin itoshi . reo mikage . shidou ryusei . eita otoya . reader is girlboss sometimes . u desprate af tho . heavy heavy ooc! . i'm projecting . school/college/uni au . fluff (?) . angst .open endings . somewhat toxic relationships . situationships . more than friends less than that troupe . idk its messy . unreliable narrator

the more you stay with him — the more you'll get hurt. all your friends have been telling you that. your feelings believe otherwise. give him a chance. maybe this friendship can be something more... (it aint)

you can't heal a wound that you're constantly opening. so why are you running back to him? he's the one who hurt you.

you ran in the pouring rain. who'd you think you were? gojo with his technique? no. you're not fast enough to out run getting soaked, let's be so for real! you were freezing cold, clothes drenched. making your light colour shirt some what see-through.

you made it to his door. knock knock. he stares at you. is it disgust? you couldn't tell. "oh um. hi?" he'd nonchalantly reply. how could he look at you and pretend you're someone he's never met?

you've oughta be kidding me.

michael kaiser who knew he was no good for you. hell, he wasn't any good for himself. truth be told, he genuinely liked you. he just 'didn't want to commit to a relationship at the moment.'

you know when your parents are like "this gonna hurt me more than you," after whipping you? yeah. this was his equivalent. kaiser let out a small whimper the moment he laid his eyes on you. what's hilarious is, he'd used to look at you in such a lovely way.

it's odd for such a prideful man to act this way. "mihya, what the hell are we?!" you'd yell at him. his mind went blank. he would just stand there. staring. felt like his father all over again lmfao.

"michael, answer me!" you were sobbing, voice quivering. your voice once so sweet was now coated in desperation. the blonde furrowed his brows. he was trying to speak, he really was! no words were able to leave his mouth. he couldn't utter a single word.

no matter how hard he tried, words would go against his will. "kaiser, please." you're now on the floor, begging. "tell me we aren't just friends!" memories of intimacy, etc flooded through. at that moment, he snapped. he didn't want to.

his pride got the fullest of him, "[name], sorry. i was just testing around. i got the experience so..." he'd cockily smirk. what no, this isn't what he wanted to say. "oh." was the one syllable that left your lips.

it wasn't new. your friends were warning you about him anyways. you didn't want to believe them. and with that you were gone. that fleeting spark of hope that shimmered in your eyes was quickly swallowed by dullness.

kaiser found himself on the floor, heaving, hacking, coughing for air after he had just choked himself. a horrific habit you'd say. thing was — you weren't there to tell him to stop anymore.

it's been days, weeks, now months. the emperor never realized how much your presence mattered to him. now that he didn't have you by his side he finally noticed. kaiser's not stupid. he's optimistic.

i guess it's a canon event, no one notices how valuable someone or something is until it's taken away. so, that moment when he brushed past you, where you were alone. where your friends weren't there with you. where finally saw that beauty again. where he finally saw you.

swiftly turning around, back in his steps. catching up to you, gripping you by the shoulder. "[name], wait. can you let me stay? i'm ready now."

it's a tedious process trying to get a clear message from itoshi rin. you consider yourself quite lucky to even have him looking in your way. what wasn't lucky was the situation you ended up in.

countless nights of texting back and forth. late night calls where you'd both get into class extremely tired. all that yet, he fails to even talk to you in person. (he refuses to talk to you in front of others.) as if you're practically a hassle to him.

you were bamboozled. who just does that? days without talking slowly became weeks."hey um rin-" when you were finally able to approach him, a huge frown was painted on your face. a cold shoulder straight at you.

he apparently didn't have the patience for you i guess. you were a little bolder this time. aggressively tapping him on the shoulder, "listen i don't understand what your problem is!"

the itoshi turned around to look at you, those teal orbs coldly staring at you. before he could say a single thing, you decided to spit out the most bile and bitter words he's ever heard from someone he loves so dearly. (clearly he didnt love u/show it enough dafuq)

"just because you're desperately searching for the love your brother never gave you — doesn't mean you can just play others! especially a friend! what the hell even were we!? you're running around with your heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved. even though i HAVE been doing so!"

his friends gasped, whistled, any annoying crowd noises, you name it. at that moment realization hit him, his eyes were heavy. lips sliding out in a pathetic tone,

"wait what do you mean by were-"

reo mikage knew from the beginning whatever happens will be unsalvageable. the status difference — yeah, his parents would never agree.

he himself was slightly caught by surprise. to be fair his type was someone older — more mature i guess. he never expected himself to fall for someone the same age... (bro ur bound to dafuq)

in response to that, he decided to be more than friends with you. terrible choice.

you unfortunately, was and still slightly is naive is heck. you'd tell your friends a few things about him (not really friends btw bro pls..) they'd constantly make you think and jump to conclusions.

"[name]- i'm kinda tired of you running in circles with the things i'm saying," reo would confront — upset things aren't going his way. you tilted your head, cocking an eyebrow. "reo, what do you mean?" you'd ask, oh so pleasantly. making him wonder why he's doing this again.

"you keep jumping into conclusions. you're in a rat race of thoughts that aren't true." he frowned. you just blinked at him, those lovely eyes starign back at him.

"please, your friends... if i could even call them your friends. ugh.." he began disgusted, "they're just trying to ruin our relationshi-"

"but reo, if you genuinely cared — we'd be together, no?" you bluntly spilt out. you left reo in his own thoughts. "you're also the one running in circles."

shidou ryusei mmm. he's something. the young, tan blonde is quite an exquisite character. he may be violent, but don't let that misinterpret him.

he's openly friendly with you. he's deathly obsessed! his eccentric personality perfectly collided with yours. (the way your bodies collided too ig) your friends however... didn't really appreciate him.

they thought he was tugging you away from them — to be fair he is a tad bit possessive over some people or things... (he really doesn't want to become nothing.) so when you asked him to stop seeing each other as you two were only just 'friends' his first initial instinct was to reject that offer and y'know. keep you as his.

problem was — you were never really his. well yea you were but you two never decided to get into a relationship because of outside influence.

that night, shidou found himself as actually nothing now. he was in tears, odd for this man. it hurt him horrendously. you made an empty promise that you two can still be friends.

you two never talked, contacted, etc etc after. shidou was never embarrassed of how comfortable and freaky he got with you. still remembering the sweet memories of how you two got intimate at times.

sometimes, he'd stare at you in class. (sometimes? bro naur he's always staring pls) he knew he could never truly move on. crazy enough, i think shidou's pretty loyal.

so, that night when you found yourself in his arms. tears rolling down your face in the pouring rain — the tan individual pathetically smiled at you. "y'know cutie, your friends have been here a little too long. they must be waiting for you to move on." peck.

otoya eita infamously known as the school's number one player. hell, the NEIGHBOURHOOD's number one player. (THE NEIGHBOURHOOD MENTIONED?!)

you knew you were sliding into an appalling situation when you agreed for a night with this man. you two were great friends since the beginning of time.

this relaxed asshole.. (LMFAO RELAXED ASSHOLE ISA WTF R U COOKING) is a choice. he knew his way 'round you. c'mon, he knew you since conception basically.

it was reciprocated too — you knew his way around him as well. which is strange to him. settling in with girls is beyond tiresome for him..

you weren't blind to the fact eita's whoring around. you didn't really care too much (you did) that was quite contradictory when you caught him with another girl.

"eita what the fuck!? wha- you-" you stammered, perplexed by the situation. "what are you doing with another girl?!"

"[name], sweetie y'know we're just friends." otoya nervously laughed, masking it with some bits of confidence. "oh you did not-" you gasped.

"y'know what!? all i needed was some time and space to realize — that YOU we're busy sleeping 'round with other girls!" you yelled, oooh... straight up toxic bars...

ninja? what a nickname for someone who cant even be sneaky about the fact he's disloyal. realization hit otoya. despite his whole 'girlfriends are troublesome' he realized he was willing to tolerate you. but at what cost?

"wait [name], i wasn't ready-!"

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

a/n: man i'm stressed out i need a cigaretteeeee... heh guess my favourite chara... anyways hii! im back yes.. after my profs keep buttfawking me with more and more assignments like dawg what the flip 💔 um this was unfortunately lots of projecting but ykw i hope ygs enjoyed i dont have much to say so take care babes mwa mwa ily

[monsterboness]

practice - three

summary: y/n keeps running away from bill, but he finally catches up with her

pairing: bill skarsgård x female reader

warnings: NSFW, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, mentions of penetrative sex and masturbation (male and female), confessing feelings

word count: 3585 words (this is the longest one so far)

a/n: while writing this, i suddenly remembered that i never said what kind of movie they're shooting. oops. next chapter will also be smut, but i'm not going to say what just yet 😘

one | two | three | four | epilogue | bonus

Never fall for your co-star was something that Y/N remembered being told early in her career. For the most part, that was easy enough, she was always too shy to form any relationship outside of just being friends. But sometimes, even holding onto a friendship was hard.

She was incredibly lucky that she’d become such good friends with Bill so fast; luckier that he’d given her his personal phone number instead of just contacting her through a group chat like the rest of the cast did.

And yet, she felt like her feelings for him were stopping her from enjoying that privilege.

At first, they texted all the time, letting each other know when they would be on set or when they were going to get something to eat. But now she had a ton of messages from him that went unanswered, especially after that day in his trailer. She figured that at some point he would just give up and cut all ties with her, but he never did.

Y/N didn’t want to ruin their friendship, but the way she was running away from her feelings made her terrified that she was.

Even when she was avoiding Bill, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She wanted him so badly it almost hurt; she wanted to be held by him, to kiss him, to feel his hands all over her body, to see his face between her thighs, to feel him nestled inside her. But most of all, she wanted him all to herself.

You are not in love with him, she constantly told herself. It’s just a stupid little crush.

A stupid little crush that kept her up at night and tied her stomach and tongue in knots. 

A stupid little crush that made her want to hide from him until he forgot all about her. 

A stupid little crush that she wanted to blossom into something more.

No matter how much she tried to ignore her feelings and bury them deep inside her, she couldn’t run away from the truth: Y/N was falling for Bill.

And she was falling hard.

The last shooting day was finally over.

Y/N had managed to get through every single scene she was nervous about - with much praise from the director, the intimacy coordinator, and Bill - and she grew to find that the scenes weren’t so bad. In fact, she found being covered from head to toe in fake blood a lot worse than being naked.

Y/N heaved an enormous sigh of relief when the director called ‘cut’ for the last time. Her body ached from being so active, and her throat was raw from screaming so much. Not even a full day of speaking as a cartoon character left her so tired. She couldn't wait to take the longest shower of her life and relax in her trailer before heading back home.

In a way, finishing the project was bittersweet. She was glad that it was finally finished, but she was sad that she wasn't going to see anybody she worked with until the press tour the following year.

Especially Bill.

He already had another project lined up after this one, and Y/N knew that he wasn’t going to stick around for long, but she couldn’t prepare herself to not see him or talk to him every day.

“Okay, that’s a wrap!” the director called out from behind the camera. “Thank you, everyone!”

Y/N made her way around the cast and crew, giving out hugs, handshakes, and high-fives to whoever wanted them, thanking everyone for their hard work. By the time she was sure she’d talked to every person there, she turned around to find Bill standing next to her. 

He smiled at her - that soft, easygoing smile that made her heart flutter - and held his arms open for a hug of his own. She eagerly accepted it, stepping to him and into his arms as she wrapped her own around his chest and rested her cheek over his heart. They were both sticky, and the sweet scent of fake blood was thick in the air, but she didn’t care. She missed being touched by him and never wanted the moment to end.

Even though they were surrounded by people, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

A smile crept over her face as she felt him stoop down slightly to rest his head on hers, his hand stroking up and down her back. 

“I need to talk to you,” he said in her ear, keeping his voice low so only she could hear him. “I’ll come to your trailer in about an hour.”

A shiver ran up Y/N’s spine, and her breath hitched as she tried to keep her face away from him. Her heart started to race along with her mind, and she forced herself to breathe more steadily so he wouldn’t notice.

What could he want to talk about? she wondered as her hold on him loosened. Does he not want to be friends anymore? Does he hate me for avoiding him?

She stepped away from him, trying to hide how her hands shook, and forced her eyes to meet his.

“O-okay,” she croaked out as he steadily dropped his hands from her shoulders. “I’ll see you soon.”

Y/N lost track of how long she’d been in the shower; Bill had said he’d meet her in an hour, but by the third time she washed and rinsed the fake blood out of her hair, she figured that he could just wait for her. The longer she stood under the scalding water, the longer she had to rehearse what she was going to say to him later.

‘I’ve been avoiding you because I’m scared I might be in love with you’ wouldn’t do, but neither would ‘I came on your leg while we were practicing a scene, and I’ve been embarrassed about it ever since’.

Y/N finally stepped out of the shower, her skin smooth and tender from being scrubbed, and her hair soaking wet, before she towelled off, moisturised her body, and dried her hair. She changed into the clean clothes she’d brought with her - a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top she wore to sleep in - and took a deep breath before setting off back to her trailer.

When she got back, Bill was sitting on the step to her trailer, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when he heard her footsteps approaching and stood up as he put the phone into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“There you are,” he said as he stepped aside for her. “I was starting to think you’d been sucked down the drain or something.” 

Y/N said nothing as she moved around him, unlocked the door to the trailer, and opened it for them to step inside.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said once the door was locked behind them. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

Y/N kept her gaze focused on her feet, too scared to look him in the eye. She ground her teeth together as she racked her brain for an answer, only to come back without one.

“Hey,” he said softly as he gently lifted her head with his fingers. “I’m not upset, I just want to know what’s wrong.”

She forced herself to look at him, dragging her eyes from his chest and up to his face. The concerned way he looked at her made her heart sting; she never wanted to make him worry about her or make him feel bad, and seeing him like that just made her feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Bill sighed and dropped his hand from her face to pull her into a tight hug. She rested her head against his chest and deeply breathed him in, the scent of his shower products and a hint of cigarette smoke filling her senses, briefly making her forget about why she’d run away from him in the first place.

“It’s okay,” he said softly as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I just want to know what’s wrong so I can make it right.”

“It’s embarrassing,” she whined into his chest. She figured that he was going to drag it out of her, even though she wanted to turn herself inside out.

“Just tell me. Please.”

Y/N broke out of his arms and took a deep breath. Her head swam, and her fingers tingled as she plucked up the courage to finally speak her mind. She knew that once she started talking, she wouldn’t be able to stop or control whatever came out of her mouth.

But it was better than staying silent and avoiding him.

“Do you remember that afternoon in your trailer when we practiced that scene?” He nodded. “Well, I accidentally ground against your leg for real and … came on you.”

Y/N immediately looked away from him, too ashamed to look him in the eye. Her attention was brought back to him when she heard him breathe out in a quick chuckle.

“Y/N, I don’t care about that,” he said as he reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “It was part of a scene that you’d never done before, and, like you said, it was an accident. But that doesn’t explain why you avoided me.”

“I was embarrassed, I didn’t know how you were going to react if I told you what happened. And…” She trailed off, trying to decide if she should say the next part or not.

“And?”

Time to rip the bandage off, Y/N, she told herself. It’s now or never.

“I like you, Bill,” she finally said, almost forcing the words to come out of her mouth. “Not just as a friend, I think about you all the time, and I get nervous around you. I want you so badly that it almost hurts. I just want you to hold me and kiss me all the time, but I don’t want to lose you by ruining our friendship. And I’d understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore and you think I’m some kind of fucking weirdo, but I had to tell you how I feel.”

It was way too quiet. Y/N’s chest was tight, and her breathing shallow as she looked at Bill, trying to study his expression but coming back with nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I shouldn’t have said that, you didn’t need to know that. I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore, but-”

Her babbling was cut off when she felt his hands on her face and his lips on hers.

She squeaked in surprise at first before relaxing into his body, letting their mouths mould together and her arms floated up to wrap around him. Every thread of anxiety in her body dissolved the more he kissed her and stroked her face with his thumbs, her frayed nerves sewing themselves back together.

It felt good, right for them to be kissing like this: natural and spontaneous, not part of rehearsal for a movie.

“You’re right,” Bill said against her mouth in between kisses, “I don’t want us to be friends.”

Y/N reluctantly broke off the kiss, her palms flat on his chest as she gently pushed him back. She craned her head up to look at him as he towered over her, a slight blush dusting his face, and his eyes twinkling in the low light of the trailer. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, through heavy breaths.

“I don’t want to just be friends,” he repeated as he stroked her face with the back of his fingers. “I want us to be something more.”

“More?”

He nodded and smiled softly at her as he ran his thumb over her lower lip. “I think about you all the time, too; even when I couldn’t get an answer from you, you were still the only thing on my mind. If I couldn’t sleep, the only way I could go to sleep was to think about you.”

If she were a different person, Y/N would have just accepted that he was telling her that he felt the same way about her. But she wasn’t a different person. She was shy, insecure Y/N who couldn’t believe that someone could actually like her.

“But why me?” she asked, her insecurities getting the better of her. “You could have any woman in the world, more experienced women.”

“Because,” he started as he twirled the ends of her hair around his fingers, “you’re kind, you’re smart, you’re funny. You’re beautiful. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

“I want you too,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper as she embraced him again.

Bill stooped down to wrap his arms around her thighs and swiftly picked her up, making her squeak in surprise. Her heart started to race, and her body ran warm at being so close to him as he carried her over to the couch. 

The very same couch where he’d kissed her for the first time all those weeks ago.

That day now felt like a lifetime ago, and yet here Y/N was again, sitting in his lap, about to kiss him again.

She took Bill’s face in her hands and leaned into him, letting her lips brush against his before gently kissing him. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and eagerly kissed her back, taking the lead from her as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her hands drifted around to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as their bodies melted into each other.

Everything felt like it should be; the two of them alone, being intimate for real, and not just because Y/N needed some help for a scene.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away to catch her breath for a moment, and she rested her hands on his shoulders as Bill cradled her face in his hands, looking at her with soft eyes.

“You are so gorgeous,” he said as he stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs. Y/N felt herself blush and turned her eyes away from him. “Hey, don’t do that. It’s true.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but her breath hitched when he kissed her jaw, sending sparks through her whole body with each touch, his lips moving along her jaw and down her neck before traveling back up again.

“Do you know what I dream about doing to you?” he husked in her ear as his fingers drifted up her stomach and over her breasts.

“What?” she asked, fighting back a shiver.

“It’s probably better if I show you. If you’re comfortable with that.” She nodded eagerly, desperate to find out what he was going to do. “Turn around for me, baby.”

Her dampening pussy clenched at the pet name, desperate to hear him say it again. Y/N reluctantly pulled herself up onto her knees and gingerly turned around in his lap to sit between his long legs, her back against his chest. 

“Can you take these off for me?” he asked as he dipped his long fingers into the waistband of her shorts. She nodded and shifted slightly to push them down her legs and onto the floor, leaving her in her panties and tank top, any shyness she’d felt about being unclothed in front of him gone.

Gently, he placed his large hands under her knees and pulled her legs open wide, hooking them over his legs as he angled her hips up, giving him access to where he wanted to tease her. Y/N’s breath hitched when she felt his fingers graze the insides of her thighs, stroking gently before trailing back up her body to her breasts.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for weeks, months,” he mumbled against her neck as he softly squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples through her tank top, making her whine in pleasure. “Maybe even since I first saw you.”

“Please,” she whimpered when she felt his right hand drift down between her legs again.

“You want me to touch you here?” He brushed his fingertips over her clothed pussy, making her shiver, and her breath hitch with each stroke.

“Yes,” Y/N moaned, feeling herself getting wetter and wetter the more he teased her. She knew that he could feel it through the thin cotton of her panties, but she couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed about it. 

She just needed to have his fingers on her bare skin.

A sense of relief washed over her when Bill pushed her panties to the side, exposing her bare cunt to the cool night air. He used his left hand to hold her close to his chest as he continued to kiss her neck and hummed in pleasure against her skin when he ran his fingers through her folds, taking his time as he ran his fingers up her slit, starting at her entrance and finishing at her clit.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he rasped as he toyed with her clit, his movements painfully slow. “I bet you taste as good as you look.”

He’d only just started touching her, and she already felt like she was going to burst. If he kept teasing her like this, she didn’t know how long she was going to last.

“Do you ever touch yourself while thinking about me?” he asked her, catching her off guard. She whined his name and covered her face in embarrassment. “It’s okay, I do it too.”

“Every time,” she said, her voice small and quiet, as if she were scared someone would hear.

“I’ll make sure my fingers feel just as good,” he purred as he dipped his middle finger inside her, groaning slightly when he felt her squeeze around him.

She was already slightly used to having something inside her; she’d explored her own body with her fingers or toys before, but this was completely different. She was just prodding around, seeing what felt good and what didn’t, but Bill was using his finger to truly explore her from the inside, sliding in and out of her and stroking along her inner walls to find her sweet spot.

Her back arched, and she moaned loudly when he found it and curled his finger into it to steadily stimulate it.

“Can you handle another finger, sweetheart?” he asked when he steadily pulled out of her, waiting for her response.

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, preparing herself for his fingers again. She knew that it wouldn’t hurt, thanks to how wet he’d gotten her, but she forced herself to relax anyway.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he whispered in awe when he slid his fingers inside her again, feeling her stretch around his fingers. “I wish it was my cock inside you instead.”

She let her head fall back against his shoulder as he slid his fingers in and out of her needy cunt, getting her used to the feeling of them inside her before he easily found her sweet spot again. A breathy moan escaped her mouth when he curled his fingers inside her, and she rolled her hips into them, matching the rhythm he set.

Her eyes rolled back, and her mouth hung open as she let her voice free, moaning his name and telling him how good his fingers felt inside her. She could tell she was getting closer by how her walls clenched around his fingers, and her own hand drifted down to play with her clit as he continued to curl his fingers inside her.

“You getting close?” Bill asked, his mouth latched onto her jaw as she made a weak attempt to nod her head. “Cum for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

Y/N let herself fall apart in his arms, her back arching as her eyes screwed shut and a loud moan crawled out of her throat, her cunt clamping down on his fingers as she rode out her high. At that moment, she couldn’t care less if anybody outside heard her, she only cared that the man she’d been lusting after for the entire shoot was touching her semi-naked body and making her feel amazing.

Once her body had calmed down, she barely felt Bill slide his fingers out of her to stroke her inner thighs again. His dry fingers skimmed up and down her arm as she caught her breath. Her whole body felt boneless, like she was being held up by him, and she could have stayed in his arms forever.

“How was that?” he asked her as he gently stroked the side of her face. “You feel okay?”

“That was amazing,” she breathed as she feebly turned around in his lap again, her panties still pulled to the side. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said before placing a sweet kiss on her lips. “It’s what I like to do for my girlfriend.”

That familiar tingle shimmered up Y/N’s spine again.

“Girlfriend?” she squeaked.

“If you’ll have me, that is.”

She took his face in her hands and leaned forward to kiss him again.

“Yeah,” she said. “Of course I will.”

tags: @unlimitedlust @muchwita @malenoradgn @a-differentbrandof-beans @laniirackssss

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Dave loses his patience with you when studying and then feels super bad.

Prompt: friends to lovers - "oh shit, are you crying?"

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Dave Lizewski is smart, if not sometimes a little airheaded, but he is your friend and friends make the best partners.

Or at least that's what you thought.

"Are you listening, Y/n?" Dave asks, clearly annoyed as you both sit on his bed, making some kind of art and crafts poster for your U.S history class. You've been zoning out because it's late and you haven't gotten much sleep with all the exams you've had coming up. 

You nod, humming as you reach for the glue. 

Dave is becoming more and more agitated. Clearly, something is bothering him. You want to ask him what it is but when he sees you begin to glue the cut-out map onto the poster, he completely freaks out. 

"Woah, not there, Y/n! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why do you always mess everything up?" 

Always? What does he mean by that? You stare at him, wide-eyed. 

Dave just rolls his eyes and snatches the glue from your hands. "Don't look at me like that," he hisses and his sharp tone is too much for you this late.

Tears start to brim in your eyes and you look away from him, wiping them with the sleeve of his sweater—the one he'd let you borrow when starting this study session because you were cold. 

Dave turns and catches your movement, his throat going dry. "Oh shit, are you crying?"

"What do you think, asshole," you snap and continue to hide your face from him.

Dave feels like he's been slapped as his previous words ring in his ears. He instantly feels like the worst person in the world as he scrambles to you, the poster forgotten.

He discards his glasses on the bedside table and rubs his eyes to wake them up a little. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, using the pet name to hopefully calm you down as his hands find your cheeks and he wipes away your tears. "I'm so sorry." 

You huff and try and look away from him, your lip wobbling.

Dave keeps your head still and leans his forehead on yours. "I didn't mean it, of course, I didn't mean it. You don't always mess up—I'm a douche and I'm just so tired and stressed—"

"I'm also tired and stressed," you say, your voice shaking.

Dave's heart sinks as he hears the quiver in your voice. He'd been so wrapped up in his own frustration that he hadn't even considered how much pressure you were under too and how tired you had become. 

Shit, he'd really just taken his stress out on the one person who least deserved it.

"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with immense guilt. "I'm an idiot for snapping at you."

You stay quiet, wanting to agree but also not wanting to make him feel worse. You let him hold you as he strokes your hair. "We'll figure this out together, kay?" he continues, "We'll get through these exams and this stupid project. You and me, like always."

You look up at him and although your eyes are still red and puffy, there is understanding in them. You know he's also stressed.

"Let's just take a break," Dave offers, glancing down at the half-finished poster. "We can finish this in the morning when we're not so tired. Do you wanna stay over tonight?"

You nod slowly, and the tension in the room begins to lift. Dave wraps an arm around you, pulling you in closer as you both settle back against the pillows on his bed.

The stupid project could wait—right now, what matters most to him is you.

Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm really sorry, Y/n," he whispers again.

"I know," you answer, your voice still a bit shaky but softer now. You want to be angry with him, but your heart won't allow it and you're too tired to care. His body feels warm and you've never felt more comfortable in your life. 

"Just, don't be a jerk again, okay?”

Dave tightens his arm around you, letting out a relieved breath. "Promise."

[starkspondwater]

So I'm stupid and accidentally deleted the ask but this was a request from @sagesbard! The request was for Kyle x a bratty and whiny reader basically taking it too far and causing Kyle to snap (which both reader and him very much enjoy!) I did play around with the prompt you gave me a little so I hope that's alright!

Summary: Kyles had a long few weeks, and just wants to relax. Unfortunately you have a habit of running your mouth until he just can't take it any longer- making him take things into his own hands, quite literally. (SMUT)

Word Count: 3964

Warnings: spanking, hair pulling, edging, rough handling, some domming

Run Your Mouth- Kyle Broflovski x Bratty!Reader

A slam of the front door broke the quiet atmosphere that filled the apartment. 

Kyle knew what was going to happen, and already his hand was up and pinching the bridge of his nose as he waited. It had been a lovely afternoon, one where he could actually get some work done on a bullshit project his boss assigned as well as take a reading break in his favorite chair. These days were few and far between, with hectic scheduling and project deadlines, Kyle wasn’t entirely sure he’d been able to properly breath for weeks. Hell, he was sure you were even getting a little frustrated with the amount of time he spent hunched over his work laptop at the table, or not joining you for game nights with friends. He was just…tired. 

So to have this time where he could just sit was wonderful. He could actually put his mind off his work for a moment while he allowed something else to take its place. But as he heard the thump of footsteps along the carpet outside he knew his office sanctuary was soon to be intruded upon.

“There you are!” You had burst through the door, work clothes still hanging on your frame as you walked in and plopped yourself directly down on the top of his desk. The skirt you wore for your waitressing rose up slightly as you settled, soft thighs on display. You only briefly readjusted to move a few papers that crinkled beneath you. “You would not believe the day I had!”

“I have a feeling you're going to tell me,” Kyle sighed, placing a finger between the pages.

You registered the tone in his voice, but chose to ignore it, already opening your mouth and letting the hellish day you had spew forth. You knew it was annoying, barging in and doing this. You knew how Kyle loved his space. However, you also knew that he wouldn't tell you no.

The relationship you had with Kyle was an odd one. Both of you had tempers that came to life with surprising ease and yet, you still got along better than a house fire. Even with a few arguments here and there, the bond you two shared had only seemed to grow brighter. Kyle was more strict than you were, growing irritated at those little inconveniences that threw a wrench into well laid plans. You were far more lax, but nary a thing needed to happen for complaints to make their way from your lips. 

One would look at the two of you and wonder how long it took before one killed the other, but somehow, someway, you clicked. You found Kyle's need for planning and his want for things to be a certain way grounding. It was an anchor on the drama filled life you seemed to attract. And while Kyle wouldn't ever say it out loud, you knew he loved how much you talked. You were not only entertaining, but with what you brought to the table the noise that filled his head finally quieted. In a weird way, you brought that man peace.

So yes, despite the fact that he was obviously comfortable and doing something, you took the opportunity to yap. There was something kind of fun about riling him up, if only to wake him up enough to spend time with you. It was just how things were, he and you were used to this!

“And I just don't understand what the fuck her issue was. I was doing my job!”

“Uh-huh,” Kyle hummed, his eyes starting to gloss over.

“Kyle, are you listening?” You pitched up your voice slightly, catching the way his head perked at the sound.

“Of course I was, m’just…thinking of other things.”

Hm. That wouldn't do at all.

“Could you please pay attention?” You whined lightly, keeping a smile from forming on your lips. 

Oh, how he hated the whining. You knew this well, already catching the way his right brow twitched slightly. 

“Anyway, on top of all of that, they've started asking us to clean the bathroom-”

“Love,” with a tense smile, Kyle looked into your eyes, the corners of which were tight. “I still have a bit to do in here but I'll be done soon, can this wait?”

Placing a finger to your mouth, you tapped your lips teasingly. He knew you weren't actually going to comply with his request, and you knew that it was his way to tell you that you were getting on his nerves.

“But I just have so much to tell you! Are you saying you don't want to talk to me?” Folding your arms, you pouted. “I wouldn't have thought that my boyfriend would treat me so badly!”

“Uhhhh yeah, sorry. Continue.” He huffed, settling his shoulders back against the chair.

“So, then she went on to try to tell me how to do my job, like I hadn’t been there longer than her! What the fuck even is that?” Kicking your legs you started in on a particular coworker, one he had heard about many times before as she continued to get on your nerves. With each kick, your heel thumped against the drawers. The sound was dull, but loud enough that with each thwack you could see a tick appear in Kyle’s jaw. 

“Hon, could you stop kicking please?” 

“...No. And what did she even mean by that anyway, it’s not like she’s my-”

“I said please.” The tone of his voice caught you off guard. It was tense, much like when you argued, but there was something else there, something that shot right to your core making your quim start to pulse. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were boring holes straight through your own.

You also caught the distinct tent in his jeans, the bulge straining against his fly. 

Experimentally, you kicked once more, keeping your eyes on his. He said nothing, only staring with that same blank expression. It was as though he was trying to hide how this all was making him feel, despite the fact you could clearly read it.

You kept still, allowing your legs to simply hang. With your compliance, Kyle seemed to get a pleasing gleam in his eyes. You could even see the way he moved himself to adjust for what he had going on down below, which only appeared to get harder. Interesting.

With a sigh, the redhead laid back, his book opening once more. He supposed if you wanted to stay while he read that would be fine, you were quiet for now and that was-

Tap tap tap tap. Manicured nails tapped along the edge of the desk’s surface, and from how loud they were it was obvious you were putting more force into those motions on purpose. You could practically see the anger climbing up Kyle’s body, rising up to those well matched fiery curls.

Painting on a saccharine smile, you continued your tapping before softly saying, “Kyle, you know you can’t just tell me what to do, right? It’s not like you ever could- hey!” 

With zero warning, Kyle reached over and hauled you off his desk, dragging over to where he sat. The book he had so carefully kept marked fell to the floor with a clatter as he moved, a startling sound within the small space. With a strength you didn’t realize he had, he easily turned you over his knee with your body now draped over him. You tried to look over your shoulder as you felt him flip up your skirt.

“What are-ow! Kyle!” You felt a sharp slap on your ass. You barely got his name out before you felt another one on the other cheek, stinging just as badly.

“I asked you nicely. I let you come in here and interrupt my work. I let you complain about fucking everything.” Smack! Smack! Smack! “And yet when I ask for one thing, you say no?!”

The bite in his voice wasn’t as sharp as you might’ve expected with the words he was saying, instead something more playful and aroused colored it. From your position you could feel his erection pressed tight to your belly, layers of clothing doing nothing to hide it.

Kyle looked down, his eyes taking in the slight shaking of your backside. Rubbing gently, he considered for a moment what he had just done. It’s not like he hadn’t given your rump a tap here and there, but…he had definitely gone much harder than he probably should have. It felt good in the moment, but it was no excuse to… His train of thought stopped as his hand dipped lower, the tips of his fingers feeling the moisture between your legs. You liked this. Those whimpers were ones of pleasure. With that in mind, he dipped a finger in, relishing the whine that fell from your lips.

“Please,” you had uttered, right before clamping your mouth shut. You were playing a game, and it wouldn’t do to give in so early. Swallowing thickly, you raised your voice. “Just one?”

At once you felt another digit enter the fray, Kyle already pumping his hand at a grueling speed. Dropping your head, you could only lay there and feel the way those fingers entered you. It was effortless the way he used those hands, easily reaching spots that brought out the true meaning of what the French called “the little death.” It wasn’t long before he retracted that hand and addressed you once more.

“Get up,” the command came out huskily, his breath coming out in puffs. “At the desk.”

Grinning, you got yourself up, slowly walking over to the desk. You were drawing this out, and he knew it. He scoffed as you leisurely took those few steps, hand lightly tracing over the wood as you turned back towards him. Raising a brow, you waited.

Kyle looked both uncertain and wild, his gaze serious despite the slight hesitation in how he moved. He wanted you, and he wanted you a particular way…he just didn’t know how to ask for it. Biting the inside of your cheek, you came to the conclusion that you would need to be the one to push him there.

“Well, Kyle? I don’t have all day to stand here.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilted your head teasingly. “I mean really, Ky, I came in here for you and you can’t even decide what to do?”

Like a switch was flipped, those movements filled with trepidation stilled. In one long stride he was at your side, tall frame much more imposing than you remembered. “If you have time to run your fucking mouth, then you have time to turn around and bend over.” 

You wanted to snap back, but the tone change was like an electric shock to your system. He was in control. Or at least he wanted to be, whether he fully knew that or not. Turning, you lowered your front down onto the flat surface.

“You whine and whine and bitch all day, and I can't even get a single moment to myself!” Kyle's voice sneered as he hurriedly undid his buckle. The sound of the zipper drawing down made your belly flip, excitement coursing through your veins.

You went to look up at him from your place on his desk only to feel him roughly push you back down. “Don't move.”

You could feel the uncomfortable jab of papers and documents beneath your chest, but at this point you didn't truly mind it. Seeing this side of Kyle was…hot, admittedly. He never broke like this, his hands always gentle and soothing, guiding you both to something wonderful. But here and now he was taking. He was going to take and take and take until you had nothing left to give and the thought of that made your thighs tremble in anticipation.

“And just what the fuck are you excited for?” A sharp smack hit your backside before you felt him line himself up to you. You could tell by the way the cockhead slid through your folds that you were sopping despite him not even touching you for very long. With a grunt you felt him glide in, stretching you with a delicious heat.

It wasn't slow like all the other times you did this, the adjustment to his size a little more difficult, but the feeling was just as good. Kyle had stopped once he buried all of himself in you, his breath ragged and coarse. You could only gasp feeling how he pulsed inside.

“Well? You got anything to say, brat?” He breathed out shakily.

You were thankful he didn't have a clear view of your face, afraid of what he'd say if he saw the smirk that resided there. The way he said that once again proved a little something to you. All the whining and bitching and moaning? He didn't mind it nearly as much as he let on. Why, from how he felt inside your cunt, you could tell he was more than aroused by it. He needed it.

“I want you to moovveeee,” the whine came out long and high pitched, like a practiced line in a play. “It's the least you could do.”

“Oh yes, the least I could do for your bratty ass is fuck it, huh?” With an abrupt thrust of his hips you yelped, drawing a dark chuckle from Kyle. “God, you just talk so, so much. You'd think a good dicking down would put a stop to it but no.”

By now Kyle had started to truly fuck you from behind, his fingers pushing into the supple flush of your hips as he drove himself in over and over. With each push you felt the rough edge of the desk along your waist, light scratches only adding to how rough he was handling you.

“Hard-Harder!” You moaned, trying to keep that same whine evident. “Jesus Ky, it's like you’re not even trying!”

Another smack hit your ass, the fat still jiggling as it bounced from his thrusts. You would laugh from the feeling if he hadn't reached up to grab a handful of hair, forcing your head back.

“You think I'm trying? Fucking really?” Grunting, Kyle readjusted his grasp, ensuring your head only moved when he saw fit. Leaning down slightly to whisper harshly into your ear, he said “if you wanna act like a little slut I might as well treat you like one.”

At that a chill went down your spine, the words seeping in bone deep. You barely had time to dwell on this before you felt your mind go blank.

With a hard yank, Kyle plowed into you hard and fast, the sound of skin on skin loud and borderline obscene. Between the pain in your scalp and the pressure of his cock pounding into you, you were lost. Pinned to the desk and unable to even turn your head, you could do nothing but take what Kyle gave you. And you loved it. You wanted to give him anything, everything you had.

And from the sounds that fell from his own mouth you could tell just how much he enjoyed this. Unlike with your usual lovemaking, his moans became much more feral, more desperate. In some way it was as if he was ramming every ounce of what he had been feeling these last few weeks into you.

To know he could do whatever he wanted, that he had the strength to do so, was enough to bring you close to the finish line. You could feel that pressure mounting so sweetly, the whines you once uttered turning into keening, begging for release. Just as you felt your walls flutter, suddenly you were left cold and empty.

His hand left your hair, and you felt him step back. Confused, you turned and took in his flushed form, particularly noting that he was still hard, the head of his cock angry and red.

“Um…”

“Yes?” He said with a frown, arms hanging at his sides. “Is there something wrong?”

“You didn't…I didn't…” you tried, the haze of being so close to coming still slowing your brain. That climb to absolute satisfaction that you should’ve been feeling dissipated, disappointment quickly taking its place.

“I don't think you've earned it, brat.” Stepping up, he leered down over you. For a split second, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Besides, I'm not done.”

You could only gape, understanding dawning. He wasn't going to let you come. He was seriously not letting you finish. What the fuck?

Opening your mouth, a complaint dancing on the tip of your tongue, you were interrupted by him scooping you up to sit on the desk, legs spread wide to accommodate him. You were silenced by the look in those eyes, dark, green, and positively sharp. With a few light taps to your mound, he chuckled at the light gasp that escaped you.

“I thought you had more to say,” purring he slid his cock downwards, teasing and slow. “Was I wrong?”

“Maybe shut up and keep fucki-oh fuck!” Ramming himself in, Kyle was back full force in slamming his hips into your own. “You can do fucking better, asshole.”

Hooking a leg up with his arm, Kyle set your right ankle up onto his shoulder. Your thigh burned with that stretch, but seeing your leg up near his head was enough to make you forget all about it. At this new angle he seemed to be able to drive himself further in.

“God you feel- ugh, shit.” Sweat dripped from his brow, ginger curls plastered to the front of his forehead as he kept pumping into you. “Keep talkin’ t’me.” 

The demand was slurred but you followed nonetheless. You didn’t even register what you said, mean little whines pouring out as you tried to hold yourself together. With each word Kyle drove himself further and further in madness, pounding harder, faster, more brutal with every single thrust. 

For Kyle, he wasn’t quite sure what was coming over him. This was not who he was with you. You both had toyed around in bed before, trying new positions and everything else. He didn’t see the need to let the frustrations from his life flood over into what he had with you, he didn’t wish to sully the bed he made with shit that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to show off. But now? This? This made him feel like some other person, someone hot and angry. Alive. 

The next time you felt yourself nearly topple over, waves of pleasure only just barely breaking over the walls, you felt his hand seize your chin. With his thumb and forefinger firmly grasping you, he ensured your eyes could only see him.

“You don’t get to cum until I say you can.” He growled, slowing his hips. “When I said you have to earn it, I meant that.” 

His pupils were blown wide as he took in your appearance. You were a mess with your shirt bunched over your breasts, something he only hazily recalled doing, and hair sticking up every which way. And yet, despite that, your mouth still persisted.

“Fuck you, you can’t tell me what to do!” You tried sounding big, but as Kyle ramped up his movements you could feel the fight leaving you. “You don’t own- mmm!” 

With swift movement, Kyle placed a digit within your mouth, his own turning up into a grin. “I think if anyone saw how I have you now, they’d think differently.” Popping the finger out, he dropped your legs, instead grabbing back onto your hips. “No one else gets to fuck you like this. No one but me. You can deny it all you want brat but as far as I’m concerned? You’re mine.”

You struggled to hold back your own orgasm at that statement, head swimming from every one of your senses. From how he fucked into you, the feel of his skin smacking into yours, the smell of sex absolutely engulfing the room, and now he had to say that? He had a hold over you, strings attached to every single limb, every single nerve ending. A puppet master finally taking control.

“Say it.” 

“I’m you- oh! I’m yours, Kyle!” You nearly cried as he finally brought his hand over to rub along your clit, pressure becoming far too much. “Yours!”

“That’s more like it- fuck! All mine.” 

Kyle’s rhythm broke down, the speed and intensity in which he had been going beginning to grow rough and uneven. It was as he started breathing the words cum for me, come on, cum for me baby that you finally let yourself unravel, Kyle following right after.

With one final hard thrust, he remained inside, like he didn’t want a single drop to go to waste. As the air cooled the sweat upon your skin, you registered the soreness in your thighs, along the backs of them in particular radiating up to your battered ass. Kyle, for his part, looked shaky.

The room was silent aside from heavy breaths. Your ears still rang as the ghosts of all that went on bouncing from the walls back towards you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but something told you that you were not supposed to be the one to break the quiet.

Kyle stood there, breathing hard. His hands stayed on your hips, grip no longer tight as he gently swiped his thumbs along your skin. He looked...pensive. With a faraway gaze he retreated into his own thoughts, taking into account all that had transpired. He had never acted in such a way with you, never had those thoughts about taking you like that. 

“Um…are you alright?” He asked after a time. You could feel how he had softened up, but still he stayed. Wary and exhausted, he looked at you.

“More than okay,” chucking, you reached up to pet his head, fingers brushing through damn curls. “Didn’t realize that sort of thing got you off!”

Immediately he sputtered, face red and eyes shifting elsewhere. “W-well it’s just…it’s not…”

“Relax. I enjoyed it, dummy.” Gently grasping those curls you brought his face down to yours in a  searing kiss. “Had I known I would’ve played that game with you much sooner.”

“Oh, yeah?” smirking, he finally slid out, eyes panning down to take in his work dripping out of you. “I suppose we could…make it a regular thing. Felt pretty good if I’m being honest.”

“I bet it did,” and you knew it did. The tension in his body had evaporated during your coupling, shoulder now relaxed down from his ears. He was tired, that was for sure, but also somehow lighter. Like a weight had been lifted. “Sex is supposed to be a stress reliever, and what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t take part in that?”

You observed him a moment, eyeing how his chest rose and fell, his cupid's bow as he licked his lips, the flutter of his lashes with every blink. It hit you then that in all this time, you two hadn’t even kissed. Reaching up, you gingerly took his head in your hands, smiling at how he melted into your touch. For someone who just took control, he gave it very freely just as quickly after. 

You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, allowing him to lean into it with a hum. Once more you marveled at how relaxed his entire being was, how he could finally let himself just be. It was something you so sorely missed.

And you resolved to make sure you never had to miss it again.

[drunkinyourbenz]

what do you think about the nat and billie dating rumours? i'm scared she was queerbaiting us

oml i'm actually sick and tired of these asks i hate the tiktok fans sm for starting this shit

neither billie or nat have come forward and confirmed anything, and it is not a thing until they say it is. stop making speculations and respect their privacy, its none of our business. let our girl breathe.

and as for billie dating a guy, if she is, good for her. i do not care. she has come forward and said she likes both girls and guys and the assumption that her liking a man = her not liking women is incredibly biphobic and i think you should do some self reflection on why you think that. billie can date whoever the fuck she wants.

also, why do you see her with a man and instantly think they're in love? again, let her breathe. let her have friends. she's a human being who has friends like everyone else, not just some fucking projection for our entertainment.

and as for queerbaiting, that is not a thing. real people cannot queerbait. queerbaiting is a term about movies and media that makes you think it's got queer characters in it and markets it as so, but the gayest character is some stereotypical background character. billie has never once queerbaited us, because it is not a term that refers to real human beings.

the fact that you think you're entitled to any kind of information on her sexuality and her love life is stupid as hell, please get over yourself. we do not know billie personally, and she is a human being with her own feelings and relationships that are none of our business.

overall, i do not give a fuck. if they're dating, good for them. if they're not, good for them. but until one of them confirms anything, there's nothing going on between the two of them. stop sending me these asks and mind your business.

[gemlikrogue]

I need to vent about a cartoon hedgehog after I've seen countless of stupid posts on Twitter/X about this subject. It seems like it's a stupid thing to talk about, but honestly I think it is good to spread this fact:

No, people are not wrong about Shadow lately. He's getting too much spotlight, even after his "Year of Shadow".

No, people are NOT wrong about asking to see more Jet The Hawk in Sonic Racing Crossworlds' marketing. He's THE rival when it comes to drive Extreme Gears or any other vehicles.

Look, at the end of the day Shadow will have many more chances to appear as co-protagonist in mainline Sonic games comparated to the 0% chance of Jet doing so. I'm afraid Jet and the rest of the Babylon Rogues will always be locked under the racing games and I don't think they will ever use these characters outside of these spin off games, as much I think this idea sucks! With that being said, I think Jet merits to stay in the spotlight for this new racing game, not Shadow. Give obscure characters a chance to shine and get new fans. If you keep shoving Shadow down their throat, then of course they will never to get to know about the rest of the cast.

I KNOW Shadow is the second most popular character in this franchise, I KNOW Shadow brings in lots of money to SEGA, but you can't rely on this cow everytime a new project is in development. It will get stale and people will stop being intrigued. Just look at Twitter/X in the past days. They are tired of Shadow.

SOJ is at least trying to make Jet the third mascotte of Racing Crossworlds, unlike SOA which keeps pushing this Shadow propaganda as "Sonic's legendary rival". Japanese fans get a Jet keychain as bonus preorder too. Western's Limited Run's Collector's edition of Crossworlds gets a statue about... Sonic and Shadow again! Was it so hard adding Jet with the Type-J Jota as well?

Last thing I want to add is this: there was this one post on Twitter from a vocal Sonic fan that said something like this: "Jet has got his own Riders arc in the IDW comics, so he had some place to shine."

Are you even serious? Do you even read these comics? Until the very last issue, Jet, Wave and Storm were sidelined in their own arc to give space to Surge & Kit and all the Sweepstakes Inc. thing. They did nothing to the story. If you tell me this is a way to celebrate the Babylon Rogues as characters, then you understand nothing! Just admit you do not care about these birds and do yourself a favor: shut up.

Vent's over. Agree or disagree with me, I don't care. I just want the Babylon Rogues to have some place to shine once in a while.

(P.S.: Sorry for my poor english, I'm not american/british).

[mimie-and-the-visions]

Can you do Jealous Herta x fem!Reader😞🙏

Like she wouldn't be worried that you'd leave her for someone else, she's positively confident on that bc yk she's THE Herta🙄. She just hates that you'd rather spend your time on someone else that's not HER. And she'd be really passive-aggressive about it too imo. You're asking for her opinion on something? "Go get (person) to help you." You wanna go out together for dinner? "Why don't you invite (person) instead?" A quick kiss before she leaves for work..? "GO ASK-". Okay you get what I'm going at with this LMFAO. Eventually you'd confront her about this of course, and she'd deny everything "Jealous? Who, me?" even going as far as acting offended that you suggested that. After an hour or two of going back and forth (she's stubborn💔) she'd finally cave before telling you, And then realize how stupid she sounds.

Sorry if this is a lot I just like herta🥀🥀

-🍔🍔

Jealous Herta x fem! Reader 1.1k words

Research partner

Even the puppets seemed to be side eyeing you. You would catch them glaring in your direction, before they would quickly turn again as you looked at them. Your coworker pulls your attention away from it, pointing to and talking about the notes in front of you both, much to Herta's annoyance.

With her all research and work she doesn't have as much time as she wishes she did, and really values the small moments of daily life she can dedicate to you. Finding out that in her absence you've been working with another.. far less noteworthy researcher, it irked her in a way she couldn't tell you about. It was enough to bother her, but not enough to truly warrant complaints. This was probably the whole reason it annoyed her so much. Living with the knowledge that some other "smart" person was guiding your work, and if she did anything about it she would come off as either possessive or insecure.

You were blissfully unaware at first, simply giggling and getting along with a new face at the space station. Your work required specialized knowledge in a field you weren't too confident about, and not wanting to add to Hertas already long to-do list you had reached out to them instead.

You soon noticed the puppets keeping a closer eye on you, and how Herta would make slight comments about your new research partner. The first time you even uttered the word "jealous" she got a sour expression before giving you the silent treatment for a day.

You really didn't think it would be a problem for so long, and yet she kept making petty remarks that all sounded akin to " Why not go ask you OTHER research partner". A bit tired of her constant comments you decide that you will just hurry up your project to get it out of the way entirely, removing the "problem" at its source.

She reflected over what moments exactly bothered her. The way you looked at them as they explained something, how you lit up and laughed a bit as you finally understood. The casual touches, a hand on the shoulder, pointing on each others papers and the walking together.

You never directly helped Herta with her own research, it was FAR beyond your usual work. Not that she looks down on you for it, it is actually one of her favorite things about you. She gets to teach you and see that sweet and endearing look of awe on your face. That very same expression you now showed to that so called "researcher" you were talking to now. That was supposed to be HER thing. It IS her thing, and yet the great madam Herta can't bring herself to outright say it.

She was never insecure. Wrong? Sure, she has been wrong a few times, but never insecure. She knows you love her, and and that the researcher you're with could never compete with her, neither intellectually nor personally. You were just working with them, and it wasn't as if you stuck around after hours to chat. So why does she still feel.. secondary.

She had long since finished her work for the day, lingering around the grad mirror in your living room while she thought to herself. It was during her moment of reflection that you finally came home again, taking off your coat and shoes you look up to her. A small smile forms on your face as you walk up to her, and hug her around the waist from behind.

The usual conversation that would emerge was absent, but she does put her hand over yours. As you looked at her reflection in the mirror, you see her gaze remaining distant in thought.

▪︎Herta?

▪︎...

▪︎Are you still upset...?

▪︎Upset about what? I don't know what you're talking about.

▪︎Herta.. please, you know they're just a coworker. I know i spend a lot of time with them, but that's all because i need their help.. there's no need to be jealous-

She cuts you off, her long hair swishing as she turns her head toward you.

▪︎I'm not jealous!- why would i be? I just think its redundant to ask for their help, you could just have come to me and i would have helped you. Who knows what kind of errors they let slip by... Why do you avoid my help, and seek out such.. feeble minds for help?

▪︎Herta.. i didn't chose them to avoid you, you just have so much research to handle already that i.. i didn't want to become another task for you..

▪︎Another- ... Another task? Love.. is that what you think i see when i look at you?

▪︎...

▪︎We both know you're smarter than to think that. Although..

She sighs a bit, realizing she might have let this go on a bit too long due to her pride. Maybe that's what kept this all going to begin with.. her pride. She hated the idea of someone else being worth your time. A lady wonderful and intriguing enough to capture The Herta's eyes surely deserves the best, so why waste your time with that fool when there's someone a hundred times better right here? It seemed that the torturously long 3 days of being kept at arms length revealed just how badly she needed you as well.

▪︎You might be right about me being.. jealous. I hate to see you with them, when i can do the same they're doing for you but better.

Her voice was calm as ever, but sounded far softer than usual. Your arms tighten ever so slightly around her waist as she turned her head away, yet you could see the surprisingly meek look on her face in the mirror.

▪︎I know you can, i know. I'm sorry.. i didn't realize sooner how you felt, but I'm glad to tell you that we finished it today.

▪︎You did??-

Her head snaps towards you. You struggle to hold back a small laugh at the quick and hopeful reply, the usually contained genius finally letting slip an oddly sweet tone of joy.

▪︎Yea it's all wrapped up, and they've returned to their own branch of the station. And.. well.. since its over now, i have a lot of free time until my next project. Sooo...

She turns in your hold, squeezing you as she pulls you closer. Her sour attitude had done a full 180 for the next few days, and every moment of free time you had was now stolen by her. She finally had her favorite research partner back.

First time writing something longer like this, hope i did well enough as i don't know too much about how to structure these things :')

Thank you for the ask 🍔anon! Starting pride month right with this one rjjdixldlwosjwbdløzsøsllsls

[keikikait]

Hi!

I loved Home Movies so I was wondering if you could do another Steve smut. Something where he gets jealous and gets really rough with the reader?

Thanks!

ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴇ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

if you want to read my other steve smut, click here!

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader (au (but still the 80's), but both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 3.3k

summary: you wouldn't actually go out with jason...would you?

warnings: SMUT WARNING 18+!, friends/coworkers to lovers, jason is a shithead, VERY SLIGHT reader x jason, dom!steve, sub!reader, p in v, birth control is not mentioned but is implied (wrap it b4 u tap it gang), use of the word 'slut' once, cunnilingus for a second, nipple play, steve can get kinda rough, SLIGHT orgasm denial, creampie, cum eating mention (?), not proofread

a note: i don't think i slayed with this...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

It was an abnormally quiet Friday night.

You sit at the counter of Family Video, making paper stars out of a McDonald's straw wrapper, waiting for either a customer or for the clock to strike 10pm so you could finally close. Whichever came first.

Steve walks around the store, sweeping up quite literally nothing, just trying to find a way to kill the last 15 minutes before close. He had already faced the VHS tapes, restocked the candy, and put away the returns. Part of him wishes he just didn’t do it all so quickly.

“Where is everyone?” Steve finally breaks the silence, leaning against the counter, setting the broom against it. “I thought it was Friday night.”

You shrug. “Maybe at the game.”

Steve scoffs, propping himself up on his hands. “Who would pick spending their Friday night watching a basketball game over watching a movie? I mean, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge just came out last month!”

You sigh, folding over the strip of paper, continuing to craft your star. “Maybe they don’t want to watch a horror movie in December.”

Steve groans, dramatically leaning against the counter again. “Save me from this boredom, please, pretty girl. I just want to go home.”

The door opens and the bell dings.

“Hi, welcome to Family Video.” You both say simultaneously. 

You look over the counter, pushing on your elbows to see around the shelf. Jason Carver lazily walks in, hands shoved in his letterman’s jacket pockets as he glances around. You immediately lose interest, sitting back down on the stool. You start to work on your paper star again.

“Hey man, what's up?” Steve greets Jason casually, leaning back against the counter. All things considered, they were friendly with each other. They were old teammates in high school, after all. He glances at the clock - still ten minutes left until closing time. “What happened to the game?”

Jason shrugs nonchalantly as he approaches the counter. “The game ended early and now everyone's heading to the after party.” He pauses, glancing between you and Steve. “You guys coming?”

Steve frowns slightly, looking over at you, still engrossed in your origami project. “Uh, I'm not sure yet. Might head home, actually.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Really? Passing up free beer and babes for a night alone? That's not like you, Steve.”

“Yeah well…” Steve trails off, shrugging. Jason’s gaze shifts to you. He leans on the counter, tapping his hands on it. 

You sigh, sitting up straighter. You hated these stupid fucking barstools. “I’m not going either, Jason.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise as he leans closer. “Oh yeah? Got plans tonight, then?” His tone was curious, but there was something else there…jealousy perhaps?

No. Of course not.

You shake your head. “Nope, just not feeling up for it. I’m tired.” You look back down at the straw wrapper, continuing to fold it. You were almost done.

Jason scoffs, tapping the table. “Well, that’s shitty. The hottest girl in our entire college is sitting my party out. What’s the world coming to?” Your nose scrunches slightly. You already didn’t like Jason, but the way he was talking about you was leaving a sour, vinegary taste in your mouth.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders. “It’s not my scene, Jason. You know that.”

Jason stares at you for a moment, taking you in. He wasn’t admiring you, he was looking at you hungrily. “Come on, sweetheart. Not even for me?”

“Not even for you,” You say. “Parties just aren’t my thing.”

Steve frowns at Jason's comment, crossing his arms. "Dude, come on. Don't be a creep." He glanced over at you, trying to convey sympathy through his expression.

Jason laughs, waving a hand dismissively. “What? I'm just inviting her. No need to get all defensive.” He turns back to you, smirking. “You know, if you change your mind, you're always welcome at my place.”

“I appreciate the offer,” you reply dryly. “But I think I'm good.” You finish folding the straw wrapper into a tiny star and set it aside, trying to find something else to do. Anything to avoid looking at him.

Jason turns his attention back to Steve momentarily. “You know, Nancy’s gonna be there.”

That causes Steve to tense up slightly, his jaw clenching. “She is?”

“Yeah, man.” Jason says. “Heard she and Byers are taking a break. This is your shot, man.”

Steve clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I guess I might swing by for a bit then. Do you think I could convince her to get back with me?”

“Yeah, dude, totally.” Jason says, picking up the star you made. He rolls it between his fingers. “She’ll be all over you before midnight. You know, I heard she still wears underwear with the days of the week on them.”

Steve chuckles, standing up from the counter. “She wasn’t when she was dating me.”

Something in your stomach twists at the idea of Steve getting back with Nancy. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nancy, you did, you just thought they were over. You thought that you and Steve were starting to feel something for each other, always sending each other flirty glances during your shifts. He even called you ‘pretty girl’. Apparently you were wrong.

You press your lips together. Might as well shoot your shot with Jason, right?

“You know what, Jason?” You suddenly interject, leaning across the counter. “Maybe I do wanna go.”

Steve looks surprised at your sudden change of heart, raising an eyebrow. “You do? I thought you weren't feeling it…”

Jason grins, tossing the star back onto the counter. “Told ya, Steve. My parties are where it's at.” He leans closer to you, your faces almost touching. His breath smells of menthol cigarettes and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, and you dig your fingernails into your palms to stop from gagging. “You wanna come with me, baby?”

Gross. “Yeah, I’d love to.” The lie flows off of your tongue quickly. 

Steve watches the exchange between you two, a mix of confusion and disappointment on his face. He places his hands on the counter. “You want to go with Jason? Of all people? You don’t even like Jason.”

“I’m right here, man—”

“Maybe I like him now.” You cut Jason off. “You don’t know me better than I do.”

Steve scowls, clearly unhappy with the situation unfolding before him. “Whatever, suit yourself.” He straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just don't say I didn't warn you.”

Jason reaches out, lightly slapping your cheek. “I’ll let you close up, sweet thing. I’ll be outside.”

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, the bell dinging as the door shuts.

You both close the store in silence. You count the register before putting the money in the safe as Steve shuts the door, puts up the barricade, and turns on the alarm. 

You can feel him staring at you as he approaches the counter. You look over at him. “What?”

Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair. “You're really going to go with him? After everything we've...talked about?” He steps closer, his brown eyes intense. “I thought maybe there was something between us. But I guess I was wrong.”

His gaze drops to your lips briefly before meeting yours again. There's a flicker of hurt and confusion in his expression. “Fine. Go have fun with Jason then. See if I care.” He turns away, dismissing you.

“I’m only going with him because you’re going to get back together with Nancy.” You admit, walking around the counter to stand in front of him. You had no reason to lie. “As if I would actually be caught dead with Jason out of my own volition.”

Steve stops in his tracks, turning around to face you fully. His eyes narrow, a hint of anger flashing in their depths. “Excuse me? You think I'd choose Nancy over you?” He takes a step closer, his voice lowering. “Is that what this is about? Jealousy?”

The air between you crackles with tension as Steve looms over you, his presence overwhelming. You can smell the lingering scent of aftershave, mixed with a faint hint of cologne. His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you worry he might lunge at you.

But instead, he reaches out, gripping your chin firmly. His thumb brushes against your lower lip, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. If I wanted Nancy, I wouldn't be wasting my time with you.”

“You say that yet you never do anything, Stevie.” You say. “Jason is at least honest that he wants me.”

Steve's grip on your chin tightens slightly, his brow furrowing. “Honest? Is that what you call it?” He releases you abruptly, stepping back and raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Jason doesn't give a damn about you beyond using you for his own entertainment.”

He sighs. “And as for me, maybe I am hesitant to make a move because I don't want to ruin what we have. We work well together, pretty girl. Let's not screw that up over some misplaced feelings.” Despite his words, you notice the way his gaze lingers on your lips, the slight flush creeping up his neck. Steve is struggling with his own desires, torn between caution and the undeniable attraction between you.

“My feelings aren’t misplaced.” You say. 

Steve's eyes search yours, a mix of longing and uncertainty in their depths. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Steve exhales slowly, dropping his arms to his sides. “Okay, fine. Maybe they're not.” He takes another step closer, until he's mere inches from you. “But what happens after we admit these feelings? We both know our lives are complicated enough without adding romance to the mix.”

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers down your spine. “Tell me, pretty girl, what do you want from me?”

“All I want is you.” You say softly.

Steve's breath catches at your confession, his hand stilling against your cheek. His eyes darken with desire, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he struggles to maintain control. “You don't know what you're asking for,” he warns, his voice low and rough. But despite his words, he leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. Your heart races, anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

“Last chance to back out,” Steve murmurs, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Because once I kiss you, there's no going back.”

You lean up and kiss him. 

As soon as your lips meet, the world seems to fade away, leaving only the electric connection between you and Steve. He groans softly into the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he deepens the embrace.

Tongues dance, tasting and exploring, the passion between you explosive. Steve pulls you flush against his body, his hardness pressing insistently against your belly. You can feel the heat of his arousal, stoking the flames of your own desire.

Breaking the kiss, Steve rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily. “Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “I want you so bad it hurts.” His hands slide down to your hips, squeezing possessively. “But we need to talk about boundaries and expectations. This isn't just a one-night thing for me.”

“Fine by me.” You say breathlessly. 

A slow, wicked grin spreads across Steve's face at your agreement. He captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue delving deeper as he pushes you against the counter. 

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Steve whispers against your lips, nipping at them playfully. “I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

With that, he claims your mouth again, kissing you with a fierce intensity that leaves you breathless and aching for more. His hands slip under your shirt, palming your breasts as he teases your nipples into hard peaks through the fabric of your bra. You moan softly, pressing against him as your thighs clench. You reach out to grab his biceps.

Steve grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is. “Feel what you do to me, baby?” he purrs, nibbling on your earlobe. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, you won't ever want anyone else.”

His hands slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he lifts you effortlessly. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, the heat of his erection pressing against your core. He carries you into the manager’s office, shutting the door behind him. He clears a space with one hand before setting you on the edge.

"I want to taste every inch of you," Steve murmurs huskily, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He tugs at the hem of your shirt impatiently. "Can I take this off? Please?"

You nod eagerly, lifting your arms to allow him to remove your shirt. Your chest heaves with each ragged breath as his hungry gaze roams over you. You bite your lip, watching him with wide, eager eyes.

The sight of your perfect tits encased in lacy lingerie makes Steve's mouth water. “Goddamn, baby,” he breathes reverently, reaching out to trace the swell of your cleavage with a fingertip. “You're fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Unable to resist, he dips his head, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the tops of your breasts. His tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive skin above the cups of your bra. “Let me see all of you,” he pleads, looking up at you with smoldering eyes.

His hands find the clasp of your bra behind your back, deftly unfastening it. The garment falls away, revealing your hardened nipples to his appreciative gaze. “Beautiful,” Steve whispers, cupping the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“All yours.” You say breathlessly. 

A low groan rumbles in Steve's chest at your words. Leaning in, he draws one taut nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. His other hand kneads your neglected breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He lavishes attention on first one breast, then the other, sucking and licking until you're writhing beneath him. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him to your chest as jolts of pleasure shoot straight to your pussy.

“Stevie…” you whimper, arching into his touch. “Please…”

Releasing your nipple with a wet pop, Steve looks up at you with a devilish smirk. “What do you need, baby? Tell me what you want.” His hand drifts lower, teasing along the waistband of your jeans.

You lift your hips, biting your lip.

Steve chuckles lowly, the sound sending vibrations through your heated skin. He pinches your nipple roughly. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Please eat me out!” You blurt out.

“Mmm, someone's eager,” he purrs, popping the button of your jeans and slowly dragging down the zipper. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of both your jeans and panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion. Tossing them aside, he settles between your parted thighs, his breath ghosting over your slick folds.

“You're so wet already,” Steve marvels, running a finger through your slit. He brings it to his lips, sucking your essence clean with a groan. “Fuck.”

Spreading your thighs wider, he lowers his head, flicking his tongue out to taste you directly from the source. “Oh fuck, yes,” he moans against your pussy.

You let out a sharp gasp, your back arching as his tongue delves into your pussy. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping tightly as you grind against his face.

Steve laps at your dripping pussy like a man starved, his tongue plunging deep to claim every inch of you. He suckles on your throbbing clit, the suction making your vision blur with pleasure.

Your desperate grinding against his face only spurs him on, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devours you. Moans vibrate against your sensitive flesh, adding to the intense sensations overwhelming your senses.

Suddenly, Steve withdraws, leaving you panting and bereft. He rises to his feet, his eyes blazing with lust as he quickly sheds his clothes. His thick cock springs free, already leaking precum. “Hold onto the desk,” he commands gruffly, positioning himself between your thighs. “I'm gonna fill you up so good, baby.”

He spits on his cock and grips your hips, lining up with your entrance.

You grasp the edge of the desk, bracing yourself as he pushes forward, sheathing himself inside you with a single, powerful thrust. A loud cry tears from your throat at the sudden fullness, your inner walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, you're tight!” Steve grits out, his hips jerking as he buries himself to the hilt within your slick heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the exquisite sensation of being fully enclosed by your soft pussy. “I know, I know. You’re being so good, letting me stretch you out.”

After a few seconds, he begins to move. He starts out slow, nearly pulling out completely before pushing in all the way, but the feeling of your cunt is too addicting, and he picks up speed. "Take it, pretty girl," he gasps. "This is what you needed, isn't it? To be stretched wide open on my cock?"

As if in response, your pussy clenches even tighter around him, milking him. Your voice is breathless when you speak, “Yes, yes, fuck, I need it!” 

Steve's fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he pounds into you mercilessly, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the desk. 

Leaning over you, he changes the angle of penetration slightly, allowing him to drive even deeper. One hand snakes up to pinch your nipples while the other dips between your legs, finding your swollen clit.

“You like that, don't you slut?” he pants harshly in your ear. “Having your little cunt stuffed full of my cock while I play with these perfect tits?” He rolls your nipple between his fingers roughly as they continue their punishing rhythm.

“Oh god, oh fuck, yes!” You moan loudly, your body trembling. Your pussy clenches harder around his cock, your mind going blank except for the urgent need to cum.

Steve's thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release, his balls drawing up tight against his body. "Gonna fill this greedy cunt up," he rasps, his voice strained with impending climax.

With a final, brutal slam of his hips, Steve buries himself to the root inside you. His cock pulses violently as he unleashes a torrent of hot cum deep within your tight cunt. “Fuuck, baby!”

The intensity of his orgasm triggers your own, your pussy rippling around his cock as waves of ecstasy crash over you. You scream his name like a prayer, arching your back and pressing against him. 

As the afterglow sets in, Steve collapses against you, his softening cock still nestled inside you. He nuzzles into your neck, panting heavily. "That was... fucking amazing, baby." You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, going nonverbal for a second. He rubs your back gently, pushing your hair out of your eyes before kissing your forehead. “You okay?”

You nod. “Just need a second.”

He holds you closer, his cock now completely soft inside of you. He kisses your forehead again. “I was serious, you know. When I said I didn’t want this to be a one time thing.”

“So was I.”

Steve hums, cupping the back of your head. “Good.”

You sigh, nuzzling him. “Are we still going to Jason’s party?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Steve says, chuckling. “Come over to mine instead.”

You nod. “Okay.” He pulls out of you and your pussy clenches as his cum starts to dribble out. “Ah, shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, kneeling again. “I’ll clean you up, baby.”

You throw your head back as you feel his tongue on your clit again.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think! <3