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whateverloomis · 5 months ago

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🖤 Dilf!Billy Loomis x Dilf!Stu Macher x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

Here it is cuties, part two (part one) <33 The thirst for dilf!Billy and Stu is intense with this one. Hope y'all enjoy ;)

Important: The image of the dress is only to show what I described in the fic. It's not intended to set a specific body type for the reader.

Tag list: @toxicanonymity @lyl1pad @elmoispookie

Warnings: Stepfather!Billy Loomis, age gap (middle aged Billy and Stu. Reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (they/them used,) predetermined outfit, cheating, alcohol consumption, weed use, fingering, p in v, oral (both receiving, masturbation, rough sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of teasing, revised: January'25

Word count: 2.1k

After two weeks of nearly getting caught fucking your stepfather on your mothers bed you thought it would serve as a lesson and it totally wasn't.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to have sex with Billy again but that didn’t stop you from brushing your hand over his crotch whenever you walked past him, and it sure didn’t stop him from hugging you from behind and giving your tits a few squeezes while you cooked before your mother walked in the kitchen. Also, why would you waste an opportunity to makeout with him on the couch during movie night while your mother was in the bathroom? You were playing with fire. Getting caught was a stone's throw away but neither of you cared..

The third week after your little adventure you found yourself annoyed as you set up the whole house for a work party your mother was hosting. It was her boss's birthday and since she’s the manager and employee with the biggest house it was basically a default that most activities happened at your place.

That’s also how you met Stu Macher…

It was around the time Billy and your mother started living together. There was a small get together out by the pool and you were inside serving yourself a much needed glass of wine. As you poured the drink Stu walked in to get himself a beer from the mini fridge.

You made brief eye contact with the man and didn’t make much of it until he walked over to the kitchen counter to grab a red solo cup.

“Aren’t you too young to be drinking?” he asked you jokingly, but you could tell it was more than a casual comment.

“I’m legal if that’s what you’re asking” you answered, sassy as ever.

Stu found your little attitude amusing and held the conversation a bit longer than intended.

“You’re a feisty one, huh?” he countered and chuckled.

You couldn’t help but smirk. The dimple that his smile revealed, his natural flirtiness and his goddamn height was a mixture that excited and peaked your interest.

“And that seems to interest you” you continued and he leaned against the counter.

“You caught me there” Stu said and took a swing of his beer.

“Aren’t you supposed to be outside with your work buddies?” you asked before taking a sip of your wine. The cool and tart taste soothed your body.

“To be honest with you, I’d rather be at my house but y’know, gotta pretend that I like these people to keep a good appearance at work” he answered and you nodded.

“Cheers to that” you said and clicked your glass with his beer bottle.

“You wanna get out of here?” Stu asked jokingly and hell, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he was dead serious about it.

“Why would I leave with a stranger?” you flirted and he smiled wide, those goddamn dimples on full display again.

“It’s Stu. Stu Macher” he said and looked out to the backyard as someone calling him.

“See you around, Stu” you closed the conversation and walked past him towards your room.

The man stared as you walked all the way to the hallway, raking his eyes all over your body. He would’ve taken you right then and there had it been another situation, and you sure as hell would’ve given in without hesitating. You even had a wet dream that same night about him fucking you on top of that kitchen counter…

As you arranged the bottles of liquor on that same counter, you remembered that moment and bit your lip at the memory. You even got wet at the thought and it enhanced as you felt Billy wrap his strong arms around your middle.

“I better not catch you drinking any of that tonight” he whispered in your ear and you pressed your ass against his crotch.

“Why? Am I getting in trouble if I do, Daddy?” you asked innocently and the man hissed.

“You’re getting fucked tonight if you keep teasing me like this” Billy replied while squeezing your waist.

“Can’t wait” you said and pushed your back against his chest, enough to move him and give you space to escape his grasp and walk to the backyard.

•

It was 11pm and everyone was tipsy enough to talk freely and be loud. You would be cooped up in your room having a solo smoking sesh if you didn't have entertainment. Two men to play around with. Billy and Stu, to be exact.

You decided to wear something provocative enough to get both of their attention throughout the night. A silk, olive green dress with thin straps and lower back cut.

You decided to go braless as well, your buds visible in an almost classy way. Underwear was out of the question too, easy access was your fun little secret. Even if you didn't get your way with any of the men of interest, at least you could fuck yourself with your favorite toy without the hassle of taking your clothes off.

Outside, you were leaning against the rail of the porch, just enough for your dress to hike up below your ass cheeks. A glass of wine in one hand and a vape in the other. You had a nice buzz coursing through your body and the cool air felt like a wave washing over you.

“Mind if I join?”

Behind you Stu was standing closer than expected. His button shirt had the sleeves rolled up and you couldn't help but look at his strong arms.

“Not at all” you answered, voice soft and inviting.

The man smirked and stood next to you; “Nicotine?” he asked, pointing at your vape.

You chuckled and shook your head no, “Weed. Want a hit?” you offered, which you rarely did but this was a special occasion.

“Sure,” he answered and took a hit from the device, releasing the smoke slowly.

You bit your lip at the sight, it looked hotter than it should've and you were already starting to grow wet between your legs. His proximity was enough to do so, but that sight really did it for you.

Little did you know, Billy was observing you from inside the house pretending to be involved in a conversation between 3 people. You caught his eyes and thought it would be fun to get him a little jealous and rile him up a bit.

As you made small talk with Stu, you got touchy with him on purpose as well as purposely bubbly and flirty, giggling and laughing loud enough for Billy to hear.

“You have the cutest laugh” Stu pointed out and you blushed, covering your mouth while you gasped, hitting his arm playfully.

“Having a good time?” Billy approached Stu and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

Stu glared at him subtly before catching your stare. Both men were scanning your body, looking from head to toe shamelessly.

“A great time now that you joined us,” you said boldly and he chuckled.

Stu took note of your flirtiness, confirming what Billy shared about you two earlier that night…

“Wait, on your wife's bed?” Stu asked, laughing. Definitely interested in the whole situation.

“Yeah, that little cunt is to die for. Nearly ended up knocking them up.” Billy continued, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Damn, I'd do anything to get a piece of that.” Stu said while staring at you from a distance. Billy enjoyed the view as well and he definitely had to fuck you that night or else he'd go insane.

“We could tag team for sure. A little more alcohol and weed will do the trick.” Billy confirmed and the men were both set on fucking your brains out…

Which is exactly what happened.

You don't know how you ended up in your room with your stepfather and his best friend, but there you were, on your bed straddling Billy's lap, making out furiously while he groped your ass.

Stu was sitting on your office chair enjoying the view of your now hiked up dress. Booty on full display for him.

You moaned into Billy's mouth as you started to grind against his clothes cock, desperate to have him inside you.

“Fuck, you look so good for us.” Stu said while unbuttoning his jeans, his hard cock finally being released from being trapped in his pants. Of course he didn't wear underwear.

You shook your ass to tease him and Billy spanked you. A warning from his part.

“You save that little attitude for me” he said and you smirked, loving how possessive your stepdad behaved with you.

“I was just playing around, Daddy” you teased further and he pushed you off his lap, pinning you against the bed, his large hand reaching between your legs.

Billy used his middle and ring finger to rub your clit in circular motions. Ring finger decorated with its rightful marriage ring, of course. A sinful display.

He collected your slick from your entrance, dipping his fingers just enough before sliding them back up to your clit.

You were sensitive at the start of the night, but after the alcohol, weed, the teasing… fuck, you could cum just by Billy rubbing your most sensitive spot between your legs. He was borderline torturing you with his slow, methodical movements between your legs.

You ended up grinding against his fingers, trying to feel them deeper inside you but the man wasn't going to please you. No. He needed you to be desperate for him, and that you were.

Finally breaking, you grabbed Billy's hand and pushed his fingers inside you. The long, pathetic, whiny moan you released made both Billy and Stus cocks twitch. Your cute noises affected them the same way and that did it for the man above you. He turned you around and unbuckled his belt quickly, followed by the zipper. He didn't bother to lower his pants much and released his cock enough to bury himself inside your cunt. You were soaked and the stretch felt incredibly good, especially when he bottomed out.

Thank Gods he positioned you on all fours because Stu was right in front of you. He was pumping his cock at the same speed Billy thrust inside you. He imagined how good your cunt must feel around his 8 incher, and you shared the same thought.

“You're such a slut” Billy grunted and pushed your head against the mattress, “Fucking your stepfather again and letting his friend join?” he continued and this time he pulled your hair back, your head facing forward to meet Stus gaze once again, “Pathetic” Billy finished and you bit your lip before sticking your tongue out for Stu. You needed to feel him inside you too and the man understood your message clearly. He walked towards you, cock in hand and rested the tip on your tongue. You purposely drooled and felt him harden further at the sight. You knew exactly what you were doing and he did too.

In a second Stu slid his cock inside your mouth and thrust in unison with Billy. You were stuffed and it felt incredible from both ends. Your eyes rolled back on their own as you felt your orgasm building. You needed to cum and that night you sure as hell didn't want Billy to pull out, so you made sure you squeezed him good when you came.

Reaching under your pillow, you pulled out the vibrator you were using the night prior and placed it on your clit, hitting the perfect spot and combining both pleasure points. The way you squeezed Billy's cock while you were reaching your high made it impossible for him to hold back.

“Fuck baby, keep that up and I'll fill you up real good,” Billy moaned and you whined around Stus cock. The vibration of your voice nearly pushing him over the edge.

After a few more minutes you came around your stepfather's cock, moaning around Stus cock again as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping all over your bed.

Finally, Billy came and he didn't care about pulling out, much to your liking. He thrust hard enough for the skin on skin contact to echo around the room as he filled you up with his seed, both of you moaning and groaning non stop.

When he pulled out his cum dripped out of your cunt and he spread your thighs to get a good look, chuckling at the sight

•

“You're leaving?” You asked Stu, pouting.

“My wife is waiting for me, don't wanna get home too late.” He said while buckling his belt.

When the man looked up, Billy was crawling between your legs ready to clean his mess with his skilled tongue. Stu chuckled while fixing his hair with his large hands.

“Don't have too much fun without me” he said.

“Get out” Billy said, half serious, half playful before licking a stripe along your slit.

Stu was already getting hard and had to hide his half boner before walking out of your room.

#billy loomis smut #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostfacesmut #billy loomis x reader #scream (1996)#billy loomis x you #stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader #dilf Billy Loomis #dilf Stu Macher

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daeniradraconis · 4 months ago

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My Emergency Contact – William Nylander

Just a little short Valentine’s Day fluff—because nothing says romance like realizing your boyfriend is absolutely not qualified to be your emergency contact. (Yes, inspired by the TikTok trend!) BTW, this pic is literally my favourite of Willy. Like, sir—how are you this hot and this cute at the same time?! ---

Moving in together was supposed to be romantic. Cozy. A new chapter in your relationship.

Instead, you’re sitting on the couch in your new apartment, watching your shirtless boyfriend, William Nylander, struggle for his life against an IKEA bookshelf.

The shirtless part isn’t unusual. If anything, it’s his default state. The man has never met a fabric he liked.

And honestly? You’re not complaining.

His blond hair is tousled from running his hands through it in frustration, his cheeky grin flickering in and out as he mutters to himself in Swedish, clearly losing patience. His mustache and beard are in full force—an off-season indulgence, just like the sheer amount of cake he’s been consuming lately.

And it shows.

Willy is always strong, always an athlete, but off-season Willy? He’s soft. He still has muscle, but instead of his usual sculpted abs, there’s the faintest hint of a tummy, a little dad bod moment that somehow makes him look even hotter.

Unfortunately, all that raw, Swedish power is currently being humiliated by a simple bookshelf.

“IKEA is a scam,” Will mutters, glaring at the half-built monstrosity. “They make the instructions impossible on purpose.”

“You’re Swedish,” you remind him, sipping your coffee. “This should be, like, in your DNA.”

“Yeah, well, my ancestors built actual ships, not this bullshit.”

He picks up the hex key like it personally insulted his mother, then frowns down at the two pieces of wood he’s supposed to connect. His brows furrow, lips pressing together in deep concentration, and for a fleeting moment, you think—maybe—he’s finally figured it out.

But no. No, he has not.

With way too much confidence, he tightens one screw, nods to himself like a man who knows what he's doing, and then leans his full weight on the side panel—only for it to give out instantly, betraying him in the most dramatic fashion possible.

The entire bookshelf wobbles violently before crashing down in slow motion.

And so does Will.

You watch in horror as your six-foot, professional athlete boyfriend completely loses the battle. He stumbles backward, knocks into a chair, flails to catch himself—too late. His knee buckles, and before you can react, he fully wipes out.

A loud thud. A groan. Silence.

For a split second, your heart stops. You freeze, eyes wide, a sharp pang of panic in your chest. He’s completely motionless, just lying there, staring at the ceiling.

“Will?” you ask, rushing over, hovering a hand over his arm, not sure whether to touch him or call 911.

No response.

Then—he bursts out laughing.

Flat on his back, bare chest rising and falling with laughter, stomach shaking, cheeks flushed—he looks absurdly proud of himself. And you can’t help but laugh too—though only after you're sure he’s not actually injured.

And then it hits you. This man is your emergency contact.

The realization hits you slowly. This is the guy responsible for calling an ambulance if something happens to you. This one.

The same man who once set off the fire alarm trying to “improvise” a grilled cheese with a blowtorch because he thought it would be “faster.”

The same man who got his shoelace caught in an escalator last summer and had to be rescued by a mall employee.

The same man who confidently insisted he could fix a leaky faucet in your old apartment, only to somehow make it worse—so much worse—that you had to call an actual plumber, who took one look at the situation and just muttered, Jesus Christ.

You blink down at Will, still sprawled on the floor, grinning like an idiot, and a strange mix of affection, disbelief, and sheer terror floods through you.

You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you are my emergency contact.”

You look at him, grinning up from the floor like he just won a prize, and a mix of affection, disbelief, and helpless laughter washes over you.

Will, still sprawled out, turns his head to smirk at you. “Baby. I got you.”

“You just lost a fight to plywood.”

“It was a close fight.”

“In your dreams.”

He just shrugs, completely unbothered, propping himself up on one elbow. “Eh. I’m strong. I can take it.”

You stare at him, still processing the absolute chaos of it all. The lack of concern.

Will sees your expression and smirks, sitting up fully. “You’re thinking about it, huh?”

“I’m regretting it.”

He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Wow. That’s ruthless.”

“Honest.”

Will squints, then rubs the back of his head. “Maybe. But too late, baby. We live together now. No take-backs.”

You roll your eyes, standing up to help his dumb ass off the floor. He lets you pull him to his feet, then immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Will—”

“Shhh,” he says, resting his chin on top of your head. “Let me hold you. I almost died, älskling.”

You snort. “You did not.”

He squeezes you tighter, grinning against your hair. “You were so worried about me.”

You groan, but his arms feel nice, and he smells like cedarwood and the vanilla latte he stole from you earlier. Despite everything—despite his complete incompetence at building furniture or being careful at all—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You sigh into his chest. “Yeah. You are sometimes actually terrifying. You clumsy idiot.”

Willy laughs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Terrifyingly sexy, you mean.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

#william nylander fic #william nylander #williamnylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #wn88 #william nylander imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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shigarosie · 2 months ago

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PLEASE MAKE A PT 2 TO THE FRANK DRABBLE WHERE FRANK AND THE READER END UP TG 😭😭🙏 IM CRYING I FEEL SO BAD FOR FRANK 😫

It's barely an hour later when you arrive back home, shutting the door a little too loudly and huffing a frustrated sigh that Frank can hear from your living room. He's lounging on your couch when you walk in, eyeing the television to see what he's watching.

"I hate baseball." You roughly drop your handbag down onto the armchair. "It's a stupid game."

Frank eyes you cautiously and, for the sake of your sour mood and his chances at living, he shuts the TV off. "Didn't go well, I take it?"

"He spent the whole time we were there with his eyes glued to his phone, checking the game updates on Twitter. I don't think he looked at me once after he showed up- late, might I add," you rant, pacing back and forth before you get fed up with the sound of your heals and kick them off. "And then- then! He tried to order for me. A steak for him, and a salad for me. Can you fucking believe that?"

"Do you want me to kill him?"

You stop and look at Frank, sitting forward on your couch, giving you his undecided attention. You know he means it.

"No," you sigh. Then you think for a moment. "But if you could find a way to greatly inconvenience him, that'd be great."

"His tires will be deflated first thing Monday morning," he tells you.

When you smile and move to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, he stiffens a little. He hadn't planned on being here when you got back, didn't expect your date to end so soon. You don't notice it at first, but after removing the cork from the bottle and turning to ask if he wants a glass, you see it.

"What's this?"

Frank's eyes do this thing- it's rare, but every so often he gets nervous and his eyes go from their default angry squint to these big, wide deer-in-headlights saucers.

"Flowers," he says. His gruff voice sounds different when he's quiet. No, not just quiet- when he's soft. It sounds raw and vulnerable. It tickles your ears and makes your heart flutter.

"I see that," you say slowly, examining the bouquet in the old vase you hadn't used in ages. A mix of pinks and whites and purples and oranges. "What's it doing here?"

Frank takes a deep breath. "Got 'em for you."

You smile; real, genuine, sweet. Like every ounce of anger and disappointment and insult from your failed date didn't exist anymore. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Just... Thought you deserved flowers," he says, twiddling with his thumbs. For a moment you think you're looking at a much younger Frank, the one you know once sat under a tree and felt embarrassed to be told by a beautiful girl that he was butchering the song he was practicing. "Was gonna give them to you earlier but you were, uh, you were in a rush."

"That's sweet Frank," you say softly. "Thank you."

"I'd line up."

Your eyebrows furrow. "What?"

"What you said earlier, about not having any men lined up outside your door," he clarifies. "I'd line up."

"Frank-"

"And I'd scare off anyone who tried to get in line behind me."

You laugh, picturing it perfectly in your mind. "You don't have to say that just because I had a bad date."

"Maybe I wouldn't say it if the date went well," he says, his eye contact intense and unbreaking, "y'know, out of respect. But it would still be true."

You swallow. "You wouldn't have to line up outside my door. I would let you in."

Frank stands from the couch, slowly making his way to you. He takes the wine bottle from your hand and sets it aside, his other hand finding your waist in a featherlight touch you could hardly feel.

"Let me take you out tomorrow. Show you a real date- treat you like the lady you are."

You wrap your arms around his neck, and obediently, his forehead drops down to rest against yours.

"And tonight?" You risk asking. "How will you treat me tonight?"

His hold on your waist becomes firm, but not rough. "Any way you ask me to."

#posts from the meadow 🌼#frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #the punisher x reader #the punisher fluff

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bbyquokka · 6 months ago

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nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom.

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!”

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.”

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.”

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?”

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag.

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs.

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?”

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs.

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake.

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.”

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.”

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.”

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast.

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake.

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself.

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments.

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.”

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?”

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.”

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!”

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing.

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table.

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.”

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich.

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod. “are you attending his party?”

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.”

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?”

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated.

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even.

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done?

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?”

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes.

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!”

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!”

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…”

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check.

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness.

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy?

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.”

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm.

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.”

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even.

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement.

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.”

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #han jisung #jisung #jisung fluff #han jisung fluff #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #jisung x you #jisung x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you

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jordiemeow · 2 months ago

Note

Casual dominance but with dilf!patrick???

the same as art in the sense he wouldn't bat an eye if you went out in a short skirt. he takes pleasure it in it, actually, a hand on your backside to give everyone a peek of your panties. when you send him an affronted look, he just gives an unrepentant smirk. whoops! probably the wind. he DOES like to choose your clothes. prob like the sluttiest thing possible when you're meeting his parents (a huge fuck you to them).

definitely into the whole "bimbo girlfriend thing." makes you make eye contact with him when you're talking... or fucking. "ah-ah-ah, eyes on me." and never lets you get away without verbally asking him for something. "c'mon, use your words if you want something. my baby has good manners."

knows how indecisive you are and calling the shots just comes naturally to him. doesn't even bat an eye when the waiters give you a concerned look after he gives your order for you. just knows you inside out at this point. or if he's grabbing himself something from the kitchen, he doesn't bother asking if you want one, he just grabs two by default (because he knows you'll say no and end up asking for a sip of his water or stealing his chips)

doesn't matter where you are, he's always touchy. a hand on your thigh when he's driving, or around you while you're walking. if he has a pretty thing on his arm, why not show you off? always whispering filthy things to you when you're out and about just to watch you avert your eyes when your cheeks heat up. you never scold him, though—you both know you love it.

also loves manhandling you. guiding you when you're walking, or big hands on your hips to move you out of his way in the kitchen or throw you over his shoulder to carry you off to bed. if you aren't walking side by side, he's always keeping an eye on you. never more than an arm's length away. follows the sidewalk rule religiously.

comes off as a little controlling sometimes, too. patronising as fuck when he wants to be. he bought you a drink? you have to finish it, otherwise you're ungrateful. going out with your friends? either he's coming with you, or you don't go at all. he just loves you too much!! if you’re gonna be ogled, he has to be present for it. he’s just looking out for his pretty girl <3

always zips up your dress for you or helps you put your jewellery on. he doesn't even need to ask; as soon as he sees you getting ready, he's behind you to lend you a helping hand (and probably a playful pinch to the ass for his troubles)

anyways shoutout to oomfs in diya's the queen's gambit watchparty for thirsting over patrick w me for this <3

#jo asks ⋆˚࿔#patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #dilf!patrick #challengers #oops i forgot to post this last night

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thewitchblue · 3 months ago

Text

"Stop."

Dick complained as he fell onto the couch. He was just trying to cuddle with you, but you turn into mist every time he tried. You've been bullying your poor boyfriend with your abilities ever since he told you he's Nightwing.

You chuckled, turning solid again once you were standing. You teased,

"My poor honey bunches."

He was obviously grumpy as he sat upright again and gave you a half-hearted glare.

"Is this because I'm Nightwing?"

You sat next to him and gently pulled him into your arms. You felt bad looking at his pouting face. Dick thrives on physical contact.

"It's more about the lack of trust. I couldn't help but wonder if you ever trusted me like I trusted you."

You allowed Dick to kiss the top of your head when your grip on him tightened slightly.

"Of course I trust you. Nightwing is separate from me."

You knew as much, but it still felt odd how disconnected Nightwing was from Dick despite being the same person with the same personality and traits. Dick cuddled closer to you. It was a huge leap of faith when revealing Nightwing to you, but he was glad to have done it. He didn't like how often he had to lie to you and how smoothly the lies came out.

You weren't happy about it, but you doubt anybody would be happy to find out their boyfriend risks dying every day and every night. You love him too much to be happy about Nightwing. At least he's getting paid during the day. What's the excuse for nighttime?

You could assume everybody else's identities based on Dick's identity alone, so you weren't surprised when you caught them unmasked. Dick was showing you the BatCave, where everybody was in various degrees of unmasked (and some even partially undressed from changing to their suits).

Everybody froze in place when Dick introduced you to their superhero side. You had waved awkwardly and somehow managed to not turn into mist in front of everybody or hide behind Dick like a scared child. It was scary having the eyes of eight vigilantes trained on you specifically. Chaos erupted, and Dick had to fight off a few of his siblings.

Among the chaos, Tim managed to sneak up on you and grab you. Immediately, you turn into mist with a squeak. You accidentally made yourself vanish as you scattered your water vapour among the damp cave.

Tim was too stunned to dodge the punch Dick accidentally hit him with. It seemed Dick was defending air now with the only proof of your existence being his wet hands.

"Uh, Dick?"

Dick either didn't hear him or didn't dare to look away from his opponents, which was fair as Cass was trying to sweep him off his feet, and Jason was trying to land a punch.

Unfortunately for both of them, Dick had defaulted to his acrobat skills and can dodge for days. Cass was as fast as a snake, striking fast and evading any stray attacks from Dick. Jason, while slower, had enough force behind every punch that even one would lead to a swift victory for the duo.

"Dick."

Tim said, more insistently. He was still trying to locate you, but you were invisible. Lost in the air. His hands had dried on their own, and he worried you ran away in a panic. He didn't know what to do or how to even get you back. He had not prepared for something like this to happen.

He ran to the chemicals they kept in pipettes. He can maybe make a gas to force you back physically. Granted, he had no idea if you would turn into some type of elastic monster if he pulled you out of the air, but he'd rather you be real than Dick freak out.

Dick noticed immediately, but at least Tim wasn't trying to attack Dick. What is Tim doing anyway? Come to think of it, where are you? That gave Dick pause. Where did you go?

Dick realised too late what Tim was trying to do and screamed,

"STOP!"

His voice boomed through the cave, and everybody stopped. Dick never screams that way. It had to be bad if Dick ran instead of flipped to Tim.

All they heard was a weak cough that echoed throughout the air. Dick frantically searched for a cap for the tube. He hissed,

"You're killing them!"

Tim had no idea and turned off the burner immediately. He watched in horror as your physical body fell from the tall ceiling. Everybody heard the all-too-familiar sound of bones breaking and cringed.

Dick ran to the body and heard a disconnected voice say,

"I'm not in my body."

Dick glared at Tim immediately, who raised his hands in surrender before turning his attention to the body. He approached slowly, nervous to even see if the body was repairable. The fall didn't look good. You landed on your back, which normally means a broken spine, especially given the height you fell from, and he should know. His acrobatic career taught him as much.

"Honey bunny, where are you?"

Dick timidly asked as he looked around. You materialise as a mist body, looking at him with an anxious smile. He blew out a long breath as he realised he won't be able to put you back in your body for a long time, if ever.

He hesitated before trying to hold your hand. As expected, all he got was a wet hand, which you dried immediately by summoning it back to your hand. Dick turned to Tim with barely held fury burning in his eyes.

"What did you release, Tim?"

Tim looked at the chemicals and mumbled something inaudibly. You chose to answer for him when he didn't speak any louder.

"He mixed sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide with something Ivy produced."

You could taste the concoction mixing in the air and soaking into you. Being poisoned left a weird taste.

Dick had no idea how to fix this. Tim could have easily killed you with this poisoning. Dick punched the wall of the cave right next to Tim's head. He was shaking with rage and sorrow.

"Fix it."

Dick said as a feeling of calm slowly settled into him. This can't be happening. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. Tim didn't know where to even begin. All he could do was stare at your corpse-like body in horror. He's seen unconscious people, but you looked dead. Truly dead. Do you count as a zombie or a ghost in this state?

Jason was frozen in place. His gaze was flashing with every emotion a person could possibly feel before finally settling on blazing anger. He didn't even know who you are, but you obviously mean a lot to Dick, and Tim just ruined you potentially forever. Jason was freaking out. He's used to seeing dead bodies, but you weren't really dead. You were still conscious and aware. Jason was ready to explode with rage. There were too many memories resurfacing for his liking.

You tried again to hold Dick's hand, but you gave him a sad smile as your hand passed right through his hand. You didn't know where to even begin. Use halogens? Would that even work? You frowned at Tim. He was riddled with guilt, but what did he honestly expect to happen? You would be poisoned and potentially killed if you weren't forcefully shoved out of your body.

Damian watched with hawk eyes. He could see the poison, in real time, mixing with your water vapour. It felt like watching a cloud turning into a tornado before his eyes. You said with a sigh of snowflakes,

"I wish I could say I can help, but I can't without physical hands."

Has this happened before? How are you so calm? You looked disappointed more than angry. Jason was angrier than you and he wasn't the one permanently made of mist.

"Do you know how to reverse it?"

Tim asked hopefully. You shrugged half-heartedly before saying,

"I have some ideas."

You spent the rest of the week ordering Tim to do things for you and testing all of your ideas while Dick watched every single move Tim did, claiming he lost all privacy privileges when he literally vaporised you.

"You know I really can't evil genius over here when you are glaring at me like I was the one who killed your parents."

Tim mumbled under his breath. He had tried to ignore the glares from Dick and Jason, but he can't focus. You spoke before Dick could, thankfully,

"Loony goony, I'm doing all the thinking. You're simply my hands."

Tim hates the nickname you gave him, but it was a fair point. He really has strictly been your hands as you hover above him like a cloud. He's been too stunned to do much else. You've been nice and patient, but he did still poison you, and that kind of soured your budding friendship.

Bruce realised very quickly that you were significantly smarter than they had assumed. Your knowledge was impressive, but he was really waiting to see if Jo'nn can do anything. Bruce should have expected Dick to date someone who can keep up in their conversations and help with cases when you weren't trying to fix yourself, but you constantly impressed him.

Your misty body turned to rain as you frowned next to Tim. It was fascinating to watch a self-contained rainstorm brewing within a body of mist, but Tim had to focus on his task. Your task, rather, as you were guiding him.

"Okay, don't panic, but you are going to have to liquefy me."

Tim startled out of his thoughts. He looked at you in horror, but you continue your thought,

"Separate me from the poison, put me in a glass and make my husk drink the liquid or inject me with me. Whichever you feel would work safer and quicker. Hopefully, that works."

You've run out of safe tests that normally work to return you to your physical body, so now you need to take drastic measures. He managed to say,

"What if you die? Or-or we miss parts of you?"

He was more than a little concerned. What happens if you die? He supposes he'd meet you in the afterlife soon after, if there is one, because Dick would kill him.

"I can restore myself once I'm in my body again. Just... catch the majority of it. I don't want to lose a limb or worse."

Dick was petrified in place the more you spoke. What do you mean you could lose a limb? What does worse imply? Is it going to hurt? Is this really the only option left?

"There has to be better ways to do this."

Dick tried to object. You sighed. You had hoped so, but it seemed unlikely. You doubt even the Martians could help.

"I'll probably survive. You focus on detoxifying me."

Jason managed to grab a rain tarp to catch you, but he still looked concerned. Could this really work? It seemed like a kooky idea. It was an idea that was thrown together, seemingly randomly. You seriously want them to liquefy you.

Tim was concerned. He had so many thoughts rattling in his head that he was overwhelmed. There were so many things that could go wrong, yet you acted so certain of your solution. He can't tell if it was fake bravo or genuine confidence, but he finds that he can't move his body to follow through. It should be so easy, but he finds himself unable to think or move. He doesn't want to mess this up again. He could seriously harm you if something goes wrong. Poisoning you, while awful, didn't cause you severe harm like messing up when putting you back together again would. Tim hesitated too long, so you did it for him.

Dick tried not to scream as you turned into a liquid in front of him, but he failed. He did, however, manage to assist Tim with shaking hands. Dick said with gritted teeth,

"Tim, I swear if you ever do this again..."

Dick didn't need to finish his threat. It was a promise for a fight. The second his misty partner is poisoned, he's going on a warpath. He doesn't care if he has to turn into a villain.

"Noted."

Was Tim's only response. He doesn't really plan to poison you again. At least, not intentionally (this is Gotham, after all). He's grown to like you and wants to keep you around. You have a brilliant brain, and you didn't seem to shy away from taking charge under the unpredictable situation.

They managed to separate you and the poison, but nobody could agree on what is a safer option: giving you an IV or attempting to get your husk to drink you. Dick said worriedly,

"You could spill if they are drank."

Jason countered,

"IVs are slow and who knows if it would actually work."

Cass chimed in,

"IV is better."

Damian couldn't care less, but he pointed out,

"They said they can reclaim the water they lost."

Tim shook his head, but he stayed out of it because he's the cause of the problem to begin with. You did say both methods should work. You just didn't say anything about what you'd prefer. You put blind faith into a group of heroes to figure it out.

Dick eyed your watery body. You'd probably be yelling at them to hurry up before you evaporate completely, so he gathered you carefully into a piping bag and slowly put you back inside your body.

"This better work..."

Dick grumbled. He will kill Tim if it doesn't work. The others ceased their bickering and waited to see if you would wake up or not. This will decide Tim's fate.

Fortunately for Tim, you did recover. You slowly lifted your hands to examine before grinning and grabbing Dick's hands. Your hands didn't pass through his own! You knew your honey bunches would save you.

You got borderline tackled by Dick's aggressive hug and heard his relieved laugh. You're not dead! Tim's life is no longer in danger! You said cheekily,

"I told you I'd probably survive."

Probability was on your side this time, but don't push your luck next time you are poisoned, you beautiful science experiment.

#gn reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson x reader #x reader

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intimidating-fettuccine · 3 months ago

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hii any chance we can get more submissive toby x reader? or just generally smut with a chubby reader maybe?

this is the only time i think ive been around for open requests so i dont have time to think much about the prompt sorry DX

I really do love soft, submissive Toby content. I tried to do a bit of both of your ideas, so Reader is implied to be chubby, but you could also just view this as only submissive Toby, as that's what a majority of it is.

I hope you enjoy! <3

Toby just really naturally melts into a submissive state, especially when it comes to you. How could he not when you make him so comfortable? With your skin that's just oh-so soft, and the way you always care for him and spoil him, Toby's always falling apart underneath your fingertips, and that's exactly how he likes to be. Below you, turning into a puddle and absolutely melting from the soft, loving attention you lather him in starts to become his default state of being, and he's not shy about asking for it either, especially not when he's feeling needy for you like he tends to. I wouldn't suggest teasing him and making him wait for it though, because if you intentionally make him wait too long Toby is bold enough to ask for what he wants from you in front of a group of people, so make sure you indulge him when he needs it.

I think Toby tends to just enjoy lots of non-sexual acts of submissions with you too, because he likes giving up control and just having someone completely take care of him. He clings to you throughout the day, hugging you and cuddling up to you for comfort and affection, and he prefers to have some sort of contact with you, even if it's just holding your hand. Toby just loves how soft and plush you are in his arms, how warm you are, and how nice you feel when he squeezes you. He likes it when you ask him to do things too, like getting you something to drink or eat, handling different chores for you, and helping you with your work, he'll do anything that he can to make you happy, and he enjoys being useful. I think he also likes it when you make decisions for him, just in smaller ways that you can take control from him, anything like picking his outfits, choosing the movies you guys watch, picking his ice cream flavor when you guys go out, or just deciding on what you guys do the whole day in general. Toby in day-to-day life struggles with making decisions for himself just in general in my canon, and I think it helps make him feel secure and cared for if you step up to make those decisions for him sometimes. It gives him this sort of pleasurable thrill knowing he has someone as loving and affectionate as you to make his decisions for him so he doesn't have to think at all and he can just focus on you.

Going back to more sexual things, I think one of his favorite poses would just be the tried and true method of you riding him. He can hold you close if he's feeling especially needy, but regardless he gets to look up at you while you bounce and grind on him. Really though, anything where Toby can squeeze you and feel your warmth is absolutely perfect for him. He can't feel pain, but he absolutely loves it when you mark him up. Cover him in hickeys, bitemarks, scratches, bruises, anything to show that you were there, to remind him that you were the one to leave all of those markings there. It really gets him off, especially the following day when he wakes up with you and looks in the mirror to see all of the different spots scattered across his body, and it usually leads to you making some more and delaying your plans. I think he does like being on top of you sometimes too, so he can press himself against your plushness and just rut away into you while you praise him for how good he's fucking you. Any sort of praise makes him turn into a whining, whimpering mess, and he can't help but bury his face into your neck, unable to look you in the eyes from how red his face is, and how flustered it makes him feel. If you aren't already praising him, he'll ask you if he's doing good, if he's being your good boy, if he's making you feel as good as you make him feel. Run your fingers softly through his hair and tell him just how good he is for you, and he'll just about break against you, crying out for more.

#spicy #creepypasta spicy #ticci toby spicy #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby x reader #chubby reader

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arias-diaryy · 4 months ago

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Soft Underbelly

Nobunaga Hazama x Reader

Synopsis: The samurai has pride in keeping his prize safe (despite how terribly he’s doing it).

Warnings: yandere, fem reader, mentioned physical abuse.

3.4k words ... my first fic in a long while, big big big thank you to my beta reader who also came up with the synopsis lmfao

Under normal circumstances, there would be a back and forth before bath time.

Nobunaga’s working the third round of shampoo into your hair, grumbling under his breath when he still finds debris in your locks. Considerably less, given all the work he’s put in, but he still finds a stray leaf in your hair. He flicks it out of your head, brows furrowing. There isn’t any water in the tub, he’s just been rinsing you off over and over with the handheld showerhead.

It’s cold, and normally you’d be afforded the luxury of warm water. This time, Nobunaga was more interested in getting you clean rather than waiting for the water to heat up. You’ve been without clothes too many times in his presence to still feel overly embarrassed about it, though that doesn’t mean you’re comfortable about it. Nobunaga is crouched on the ground outside of the bathtub, washing you as if you were a labrador covered in mud. His sleeves still got water on them despite being rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is pulled back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way. If he’s leered at you, you haven’t noticed. You’ve been desperate to avoid eye contact.

When he holds the showerhead up and over your body, the water runs down clearer than it did the last few times. There was dirt before, being washed away by the soap and pressure of the water. You and Nobunaga both internally cringed when the water ran red the first few times; you even moreso when the soap got into the cuts and scrapes littering your skin. He fussed over them, still does, you don’t expect anything less. Every cut he sees, he clicks his tongue and asks where it came from. “I don’t know” quickly becomes your default answer.

You wonder if he feels any bit vindicated, seeing you with blood and dirt under your nails, and twigs in your hair. All those “the outside world is too much for you” talks replay in your head, and your nails begin to dig into your palms out of frustration.

“Don’t do that.” Nobunaga says sternly, having caught the motion in his peripheral. You’re shaken out of your frustration, uncurling your hands. He’s perceptive enough to catch that, but not enough to realize that you want nothing to do with him? He furrows his brows a little more, his hands still in your hair and lathering it up with the shampoo. It smells like fruit, it smells girly. Juvenile, almost.

“I’m not doing anything.” Nobunaga doesn’t say anything to you, removing his hands from your hair and grabbing the showerhead again. He makes a point of angling it more towards your face, and you flinch when the cold water hits you like a hard smack. You shut your eyes as the shampoo suds roll off your head and your face. One of his hands returns to your head, tousling up your hair and rinsing the shampoo out of it. The near icy water doesn’t help with your shivering, and you don’t think you’re in any position to be asking for hot water.

“I’m not a dog, I can bathe myself.” You say, halfway under your breath. Nobunaga might have rolled his eyes, but to do that, he’d have to momentarily stop looking at you, something he isn’t keen on doing. “I didn’t say you were one.” He doesn't address your stewing emotions, no matter how clearly they’re scrawled across your face. You have half the mind not to respond with a snarky comment.

There’s a pit in your stomach. There’s been one for quite a while. You assumed it was anxiety, but now you think it could also be an ulcer. Sometimes it gets so great that you think there’s really something wrong with you. Sizzling, contorting, creeping its way up into your chest. You felt it most in the first two weeks, and it’s waxed and waned since then. It’s spiked considerably from the moment Nobunaga found you again to now. It isn’t helped by the fact that you were expecting some sort of punishment; a sick retribution from him for trying to leave, and it has yet to come.

…The fact that your escape lasted less than 6 hours probably has something to do with how he’s behaving. Oh, he’s annoyed, you didn’t need to be told. Though, you suppose he didn’t expend enough effort in finding you to truly be outraged. Nobunaga had found you in the woods behind the house, having yanked you out of the hollowed log you squirmed into. In the moment, it seemed like a good enough hiding spot, once you had the horrifying realization that he wasn’t that far behind you. For all the metaphorical and literal slaps on the wrist you got from him, you can’t be faulted for thinking he’d have more of a reaction to you trying to leave him.

In retrospect, it would have been smarter to travel alongside the road by the house and hitch hike. But wasn’t that too obvious? Nobunaga had been out of the house at the time of your escape, you didn’t know when he would come back. What would you say if the car he stole came driving down the road, and he saw you with your thumb out like a dumbass on the side of the asphalt? Plus, you thought you would’ve had a few days to make some distance. If you knew he’d be coming back tonight, you would’ve waited.

You’re pretty sure your previous comment wasn’t an invitation to conversation, yet Nobunaga begins talking anyway. “I can’t believe you, the one thing I told you not to do,” he chides. “and you didn’t even make it that far.” Nobunaga says it with a bit of humor, as if underneath his irritation, he finds this a little funny. Of course he does. Your hair feels like rubber with how much shampoo has been in it, and you despair internally when Nobunaga goes to put another dollop of it into your hair. “You’re lucky I found you before you got seriously hurt.” He scolds, roughy lathering the shampoo into your scalp one last time for good measure.

Despite it all, he’s still acting too flippant for your liking, you had expected him to… well, you aren’t sure. You’ve been on edge since before you even ran away, waiting for the eventual blow. Sure, he’s raised his voice at you and dragged you the whole way home, but you were still waiting for the worst of it. You thought he’d show his anger more, you did escape after all. The one thing he specifically forbade you to do.

(He also forbade you from locking doors and going near the stove without his supervision, but actually getting out of the house and making a break for it seemed more serious than any of the others).

You shut your eyes to keep shampoo from entering them, but it’s too late. They sting almost immediately and you let out a small hiss of pain. So much for tear free. Nobunaga leans closer, pausing in his lecturing. “Are you crying?” He asks in a less stern tone of voice. “No!” You say, but you doubt he believes you. After all, you are tearing up. You blink a few times, and there’s tears in your eyes, which are now red and irritated. Nobunaga brings his hand closer to wipe your tears away, and you flinch. He grabs your upper arm to keep you in place, and you tense up more than you knew possible.

“Are you sure?” He asks again, and you don’t like the way he’s saying it. He’s talking to you like you’re a kid who got caught in a lie. “You got shampoo in my eyes!” “Uh huh.” Nobunaga hums, disregarding your declaration and wiping your tears away with his free hand. Your eyes are really red, he thinks. Maybe a drop of shampoo did get in them, though he remains unconvinced that you aren’t at least a little regretful for trying to run away from him. You aren’t that heartless. You go to rub at your eyes, and Nobunaga grabs your wrist to stop you. You flinch again, and he clicks his tongue in irritation.

“Would you stop being difficult?” Nobunaga says, taking a firmer grasp of your wrist to emphasize his point. “I’m not being difficult.” “You are, you’re acting like I’m going to hit you.” “Are you?” You ask, and Nobunaga only looks at you like you’re challenging him. “Should I?”

You take a moment to respond. You can’t think of a smart answer, and although none of them feel outright wrong, none of them exactly feel right, either. “If I were you, I’d hit me.” It’s not a lie, if you were just half as deranged as Nobunaga, you probably would hit yourself. Nobunaga pauses for a moment, then laughs. As if it was some punchline to a joke. You aren’t as unsettled as you are relieved that he didn’t actually put his hands on you. At least he found it funny?

If you were him, you wouldn’t have deemed yourself worth the trouble. You would have gotten rid of yourself a long time ago, replaced yourself with another woman. One that looks similar enough to you, if appearances mattered. Yet everytime you would correct him, insist that you weren’t his girlfriend or anything of the sort, he’d wave you off and go on with whatever he was doing. You aren’t sure what he sees in you, it’s never stuck, no matter how many times he’s said it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Nobunaga finally says. “I already said before, I don’t want to hurt you.” You want to roll your eyes. He’s the one who brought the topic up. Sure, it’s not like he ever punched you in the jaw or anything, but he has a knack for manhandling you every now and then. Nobunaga keeps on talking, not that you had a reply or anything further to add to the conversation. He’s back to being stern with you. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. I’m still mad at you. What you did was stupid.” “I know.” You mumble, avoiding his harsh glare.

“You’re not going to do it again.” He says, more firmly this time. With the same lack of energy, you reply “I won’t”. Nobunaga looks like he has more to say, but stays quiet. A distinct smell of smoke and burning food wafts through the hallway and into the bathroom. The food Nobunaga tossed into the oven an hour ago…

He curses under his breath, his eyes going from the hallway to you. “Stay here.” He says, rising to his feet and leaving you in the bathtub alone, still with shampoo in your hair. You take it that it’ll take him a while to salvage dinner, so you take it upon yourself to finish your bath. You make sure to twist the shower handle to warmer water before taking the showerhead to get the shampoo out of your hair and eyes. The pit in your stomach hasn’t gone away, and the prospect of charred food for dinner isn’t easening your pain. You hadn’t spent long enough outside to be that hungry for Nobunaga’s culinary prowess, or lack thereof.

There was zero chance of Nobunaga scrapping dinner to just order takeout. In fact, that chance most likely plummeted to the negatives given the stunt you pulled earlier in the day. Still, dinner wasn’t a total waste. You could eat around the burnt pieces of chicken, which were few and far between. The rice was stickier than you would’ve liked. You doubt Nobunaga would be letting you handle the cooking for a while, it’s practically a given that certain privileges would be rescinded. Temporarily, you hope, but rescinded nontheless.

At least the vegetables came out fine.

Nobunaga sits down at the foot of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He looks over at you, laying flat on your back in bed with the blanket covering you. Your feet poke out from under the covers. Soft and warm, scratches on your soles. There’s a cut on the bottom of your left foot; it looks more like a thin slice of flesh was scraped clean off. Nobunaga can’t take his eyes off of it. He knows it’ll heal, but he can only run through all the different ways you garnered that injury.

He stares at your foot in his hand, brows furrowed. A sliver of him was impressed, perhaps a little endeared, that you were still clinging to this idea of not needing him. It was almost laughable, even more so given the state you were in when Nobunaga found you. Cold, exhausted, and hungry, you had somehow gotten two of your fingernails ripped off in the short time you were away from him. All that, and you had the gall to look at him as if he was somehow inconveniencing you by bringing you back home. You’d even tried to bite and scratch at him like some animal.

You really could be an ungrateful brat, sometimes. Maybe you were onto something about him hitting you.

If anything, he’s only more convinced of how pathetic you are. Endearingly so, but pathetic nonetheless. You deserve an achievement for managing to scratch yourself up so much in a few short hours without him, truth be told. Not that he enjoys seeing the cuts on your body, but he does consider himself a little bit smart for not letting you have shoes of any kind, even ones for inside the house. You probably would have gotten much farther if you weren’t out there with just some thin socks.

Nobunaga shifts a little closer, gingerly taking your left ankle and foot in his hands. The foot with the nasty cut on the bottom. He didn’t want you picking at it or even looking at it, so he’d made sure to bandage it properly. If you were awake, you’d jolt like a spooked animal and try to kick at him. Though he’d always known you as a light sleeper, you don’t even stir when Nobunaga touches you. That’s good, he thinks. You need the rest. All that scrambling in the forest probably took out all of your energy.

Even looking at your sleeping face now, it’s hard for the samurai to imagine that just hours ago you were shrieking at him to let you go, to not bring you back home. He’d spent almost an hour painstakingly removing every splinter of wood caught in your feet and hands; all while you were squirming and trying not to kick at him reflexively. Another hour was spent getting the rest of you cleaned up. It’s almost like you’d prefer being out in the cold than being kept warm and safe with him. It’s so preposterous, he could almost laugh at the thought.

…Though, he can’t pinpoint any other reason for you acting out. Unless that’s just what it was, misbehavior for the sake of it. Maybe you wanted more attention? That seemed plausible to Nobunaga. He can’t imagine that you’re thrilled when he leaves your side to go on Troupe missions. When he returned, it was always to you looking miserable, only cheering up now that he returned to you.

(It was because he had a tendency to lock up the television remote in his absence to keep you from watching something he didn’t want you seeing, and the fridge almost never seemed to be stocked with actual food before he left you in your lonesome. He still hadn’t connected the dots).

(...Though the prolonged lack of human interaction did do a number on you, as well).

He knows that to some degree, this is his fault. He’s been too lenient with you, too soft. Uvo had made a passing comment once that it’d do him some good to instill some fear into you. Just a little, to keep you from misbehaving. Nobunaga let you talk back and maintain some independence, and you turn around and try to run away from him.

He gave you an inch and you tried to take a mile. If your ploy was really to get more of his attention, then you’d succeeded. Nobunaga can’t imagine not keeping a closer eye on you for the coming months. That, and he’d finally get around to putting some bars on the windows. His gaze lingers on you, on your foot resting in his lap. He wonders if you know how lucky you are, that it’s him who’s keeping you safe and not any other Troupe member. Someone like Feitan surely would’ve killed you, or at least made you wish you were dead.

Nobunaga isn’t keen on taking a page out of Feitan’s book, though. He was generally averse to the idea of making you upset. He didn’t consider himself to be a bad man, one who hurts his woman. Sure, he’s killed more people than he can count and took great joy in it. He’s maimed women and children, and robbed people of all they had, all for the Spider. But that was different. It’s impersonal, and half of those people more or less deserved it anyway. Probably. Regardless, you escaping and making a run for it isn’t something he can brush under the rug, even if you totally failed.

A hot-head like Phinks, or even Uvo, would’ve broken your leg. Perhaps a bit excessive, you hadn’t made it far enough to warrant that in Nobunaga’s eyes. It’s like a part of you subconsciously didn’t want to go so far away. Like you wanted to be found. If you really hated him so much that you’d try to run away, surely you would’ve put some more effort into it.

He could always just break your ankle, maybe both. Crude, brutish, almost, but that would get the point across. It wouldn’t be hard by any means. A flick of the wrist and it’d be done. Maybe he could wake you up before he does it, make you squirm a little. Perhaps you’d feel a fraction of the panic Nobunaga felt when he couldn’t find you anywhere; when he realized you’d ran away from him.

The aftermath might be a little messy, but at least you wouldn’t be running away again. He could keep you like that for a few days, maybe you’d learn some appreciation then. It’d take Machi a while to get to his house anyway to fix you up properly. Maybe he wouldn’t even need her. You’d cry a lot, he’s sure.

“What are you doing?”

Your voice, tired and having lost it’s previous bite, draws Nobunaga out of his thoughts. You’re still laying flat in bed, looking at him with your foot in his lap. You tense up, and he doesn’t miss the brief change in expression. You’re uncomfortable, and the man chalks it up to you being ticklish or something along those likes. Not that you ever claimed to be, but you always shyed away from his touch, always bit the inside of your cheek when he got close. Tensed up when his fingers brushed up against your neck or shoulders. It was cute.

Nobunaga doesn’t answer you right away, his thumb idly rubbing the skin of your ankle. It’s almost a soothing gesture. “Nothing, go back to sleep.” You retract your foot, and he lets you. He circles the bed, coming to the other side and getting in with you. You tense up, feeling Nobunaga slide in right next to you. You don’t move away, not that you had a chance to. Nobunaga presses himself against you, his arms wrapping around you.

You wince, being overwhelmed with his scent. In your brief time away from him, you’d enjoyed the smell of dirt and grass, and the wind hitting your skin. All things you never thought about too much, now feeling like luxuries. Your head is pushed into the crook of his neck, and the rest of you is too sore to do much about it. You suppose, if anything, that being in a warm bed is better than crawling into a log and trying to pretend the ants don’t bother you.

“You know I love you, right?” It’s something you’ve heard from him more times than you care to admit. You don’t say anything, only humming in acknowledgment. That isn’t enough, you know by now that he always wants an answer when he says he loves you. It sounds all too sincere, which ironically is the reason you hate hearing it. When he doesn’t hear a response, Nobunaga pinches your upper arm. So, to soften the blow of whatever’s in store for you tomorrow, you tell him what he wants to hear.

“I love you too.”

#_hxhentry #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #x reader #yandere nobunaga x reader #nobunaga x reader #yandere fic

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xxsomethingsimfulxx · 10 months ago

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How now, sprout cow? 200 Followers gift!

I know it's not a big number to some, but wow! 200 followers! Thank you all so much! To celebrate I have some party favors! I even learned some new tricks while working on all of this!

Post is image heavy!

What have we got?

Cowplant skins! The black and white boy's skin(His name is Chucky) comes as custom AND default!

Might I recommend No default plantsim hair and No plantsim skin/eyes? Edit: I forgot to recommend the Mirror of Discernment. It allows you to designate sims as aliens :D

More "natural" cowplant sim skins! The dark green also comes as a default!

Alien cow skins! As custom and default skins! Also an alien eyes default!

General Zoi's cow ear and tail recolors, plus Diekatze's Namekian antenna recolors! The antenna have also been made showerproof!

Disclaimer: Cow tails and ears flash blue, tried to fix it. Couldn't, but they work fine otherwise and it goes away after a change appearance as usual.

Cow tails also don't work for children. It was made that way, probably by accident. The frame is lacking the cow tail, and I don't know how to fix it as meshing is not my forte, at all, in the slightest.

Make up! Yes, for babies too! There's several nose blushes, lipstick, a 3rd eye, and matching 3rd eyelids for both alien skins. I've also made alien contacts for babies and adults!

YOU NEED THE SIMBLENDER TO MAKE BABY MAKEUP WORK

Everything is tool tipped, named clearly, practical preview pics included, meshes included, foldered by type, and compressed. Remember to only pick ONE default!

DOWNLOAD

Credits:

at35z Juno Birch Cow Skin

@simmer-until-tender for Sonny's lipstick(y'all should go get his black lipstick from their download of him!) nose, and the all ages/genders Juno Birch skin! Also for Rebutia and Saguaro. Traditional plants sims aren't likely to thrive in the desert! Fantasy Rogue's plant skins(they're so nice!)

Nilou's edit of Jurianne's skins for cowplant base.

Plant sim vine pngs

General Zoi

Diekatze

Tealeaf's edit of Zombie Jill's nightride eyes! Yay GoS is back!

Digital Angel's 3rd eyes!

MoonlightRaven/simmer22 Wouldn't have been able to learn how to make baby makeup without them!

#sims2 #sims 2 #sims 2 pictures #the sims 2 #sims 2 screenshots #ts2 #sims2cc #strangetown #sims 2 custom content #sims2download #sims 2 cc #thesims2 #ts2 simblr #sims 2 skin #cowplant #sims 2 download #sims 2 default replacement #the sims 2 custom content #the sims 2 download

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xoxocher · 24 days ago

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Wondering if you write for Chris Hartley? If so maybe readers first time sleeping with him?maybe bsf!Chris? He’s inexperienced but enthusiastic 🤩 (he’s a dork)

Love your writing!!

𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

SUMMARY - when you and chris agree to just get it out of the way, you figure it’ll be a simple, no-strings-attached solution to your shared problem. but as the night unfolds, what begins as an awkward arrangement quickly turns into something far more intimate than either of you anticipated. it’s messy, it’s sweet, and it’s certainly more than just a one-time thing.

PAIRING/SETTING - virgin fem!reader x virgin bsf!chris hartley. no prank au. no use of y/n.

WARNINGS - graphic sexual material, strong language, & tons of second-hand embarrassment inducing dialogue (stay strong soldiers).

W/C - 2,340

A/N - oh absolutely i will. i can't be normal about anything, so i turned this request into a fully fleshed out oneshot. whoops. anyhoo, thank you so much for the support love! hope this is to your liking ♥︎ (p.s. be on the lookout for another chris fic realll soon ;))

you and chris have been nearly inseparable for as long as you can remember. he’s your default ride home, your emergency contact, your plus-one to every awkward family function. no one ever questioned it—you and chris just were, since 2009.

now it’s the summer before college, and everything feels a little like the end of something.

tonight is like a hundred others you’ve spent together: hunkered down in your bedroom, window cracked open to let the warm air in, the hum of cicadas swirling with the sweet sounds of impending victory as you weasel your way into first place.

“how the hell are you beating me?!”

“you always pick toad,” you mutter, tongue caught between your teeth as you narrowly avoid a shell.

“and you always cheat,” he fires back, eyes locked onto the screen.

you snicker, tossing a handful of popcorn at him. he gasps like you’ve mortally wounded him, which, given his usual dramatics, isn’t far off.

chris finally throws his controller down with a groan, flopping back against the pillows behind him.

“fucking stick drift,” he seethes.

you can’t help but giggle under your breath as you walk over to the console—clicking it off just as the menu begins to loop.

you ease your way back into bed, shooting an unconvinced look his way as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “you’ve been using that bullshit excuse for a year now. i’m just better than you. accept it, hartley.”

he scoffs at your assertion. “you’re lucky i’m too emotionally fragile to storm out right now.”

there’s a lull—just for a second. outside, the soft rustle of palm leaves stirs in the breeze, and inside, the glow of your bedside lamp casts everything in gold.

chris shifts beside you, a thoughtful expression now drawn on his face. you settle down next to him, resting your head against his shoulder. for a moment, neither of you speak, lost in the quiet comfort of each other's presence.

he eventually breaks the silence. “you ever think about how weird it’s gonna be?” he asks, uncertainty threading through his tongue. “y’know, leaving home and all?”

“constantly,” you admit, staring blankly at the ceiling. “it’s…scary. letting go of the familiar. of this.”

he pauses for a moment, the weight of your words hanging between you.

“and you know what’s even worse?”

“hm?” you glance over, curiosity piqued.

“i’m still a virgin.”

a breathy laugh escapes you.

“well that makes two of us.”

“seriously?”

“mmhm.”

your hands meet midair in a lazy smack of solidarity.

“maybe we should just get it over with.” chris blurts, eyes going wide the second the words leave his mouth.

you gasp, clutching your pearls at his salacious suggestion. “christopher hartley, are you seriously trying to get into my pants right now?”

his cheeks glow pink with embarrassment, forcing his head into his hands. “shit. i didn’t–i wasn’t—not like that. well, yes like that, but not in a pervy way,” he stammers, words tumbling out in a panic as he groans into his palms. “fuck–j-just forget i said anything.”

you struggle to bite back a smile, “chris.”

he doesn’t hear you, too far gone in his shame spiral. “...way to sound like a total freaking douche, dude.”

you reach out, gently placing a hand on his, prying it away from his face. “chris.”

that shuts him up realll quick.

“wh-huh?”

“i was totally fucking with you,” you tease, lightly nudging his shoulder. “relax.”

he blinks, still stunned.

“it’s okay,” you reassure him,“really.”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “no, it was a stupid idea.”

“not necessarily,” you counter, tone even. “just…unexpected.”

a hush falls over the room, heavy but not entirely unpleasant.

“and i’d be lying if i said i hadn’t thought about it before.”

his eyes snap to yours, dazed and confused.

“joke’s over now,” he jests, carefully reading your expression.

you roll your eyes, playfully punching him in the shoulder. “i’m serious!”

his eyebrows lift as he rubs out the sore spot, “are you sure? because my ideas have a poor track record.”

“i trust you chris. more than anyone.”

he swallows thickly, giving you a tight nod as the gravity of your words settles in his chest.

“cool,” he manages to choke out. “cool-cool-cool-cool, no doubt, no doubt.”

“god, you are such a dweeb.”

without a second thought, you’re climbing into his lap–straddling his hips as you lean forward to plant a kiss on his chapped lips. his breath catches, hands hovering at your waist like he’s afraid to touch you wrong. “this okay?” you whisper against his pulse. “fuck, uh–yeah. yeah! totally.” he sputters, at a complete loss for words.

cute.

you’re on him again, mouths crashing together in a greedy, uncoordinated mess. you knock teeth a few times as his hands fumble for somewhere to rest–it’s not perfect, but it’s real.

“you’re allowed to touch me, y’know.” you whisper against his mouth, a coy smile playing at your lips as your nose nuzzles against his.

chris huffs out a shaky laugh, one hand finally settling at the small of your back, the other tentatively curling around your thigh. “i just–don’t wanna mess this up.”

you trail your fingers up the back of his neck, combing gently through his hair–soft and a tad bit damp with sweat. “we’re figuring this out together, m’kay?”

“uh huh,” he exhales, giving you a sweet little nod that sends a searing ache to your center.

his lips move hungrily against yours, tilting your head back as he deepens the kiss–entangling his tongue with yours. your fingers twist into his hair, tugging just enough to draw a needy, guttural sound from his throat. he starts to lose himself in it–hands gradually growing bolder as he sneaks beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers ghosting along your bare skin. he hesitates only a moment, his thumbs tracing circles against your ribs before locking eyes with yours.

“can i?”

you nod eagerly, raising your arms to help him pull your shirt over your head. it momentarily snags at your elbow, drawing a burst of shared laughter as the fabric resists, then gives, slipping free and landing in a careless heap behind you.

clothes fall away slowly after that–kisses stolen between layers, giggles muffled into each other’s skin, and hands always searching, learning, yearning. your hands splay over the warm planes of his chest, thumbs brushing over the faint scatter of freckles across his collarbones. you’re left only in your underwear, perched in his lap, where his sweats still cling low to his hips.

“so…” his eyes rake over your body as his hands drift along the curves of your waist. he reaches up to cup your tits, giving them a careful squeeze as he brushes a thumb over your nipple. “so pretty.”

a soft mewl slips past your lips, your back arching instinctively into his touch as heat blooms just beneath your skin.

“chris–i want you–need you–touch me, please.” you’re begging for something, anything to relieve the tension coiling from within.

“o-okay, yeah–god, anything for you. anything.”

he moves quickly, effortlessly flipping you onto your back.

you’ll have to let him manhandle you more often.

a hand dips into your underwear, guided by your own until his fingers find you just right. you let out a broken gasp as he circles your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm.

“like this?” he looks to you through his lashes–an angel settled between your thighs.

“mhm–fuck–just like that,” you pant, hips canting up into his touch.

he continues to work you open–testing the waters as he slowly sinks a finger inside your soaked cunt, followed by another. he moves carefully, feeling his way, but it doesn’t take long for his rhythm to grow more assured. each curl of his knuckles leaves you breathless, arching up into him as he finger-fucks you stupid.

chris has grown painfully hard now, rutting weakly against the mattress in a pathetic attempt to satisfy his search for friction. he’s far too captivated watching you come undone around his fingers to stop now. but you catch the movement and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand from you.

panic flickers in his eyes. “wh-did i do something? do you wanna stop?”

poor, sweet boy.

you shake your head, smiling softly, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand to settle his nerves.“mm-mm,” you murmur, your voice like velvet. “doing so good–want you inside me.”

his brain all but short-circuits. and for a second, you could’ve sworn he forgot how to breathe–until he begins to palm himself through his fabric constraints.

“jesus christ, somebody pinch me.”

you lean over, rummaging through your nightstand as your breath hitches with anticipation.“i swear i have one in hereee–aha!” you hold up a small foil packet triumphantly, internally thanking emily for the bawdy birthday gift.

chris begins to peel off his sweatpants and boxers, fumbling slightly in his rush. he almost stumbles, a sock still clinging to one foot, but recovers with a sheepish laugh. you don’t mind the awkwardness, in fact, you find his enthusiasm oddly arousing.

you toss your panties aside, drinking in the sight before you—broad shoulders, thick, veined arms bathed in the soft amber glow of your room. you’re practically drooling.

he tears the wrapper open with trembling fingers, rolling the condom on as you stare in awe. he lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against you, teasing. you whimper at the contact–a proud expression falls over his face as he lets out a low chuckle.

you’re a pathetic, weepy mess all because of him.

“i-i’ll try to go slow.” he says, a slight quiver in his voice, as though he’ll have to physically restrain himself. “just tell me to stop if it’s too much, ‘kay? don’t wanna hurt my pretty girl.”

he begins to push in, slow and cautious. you inhale sharply as your body stretches to accommodate him–the fullness making your head spin.

“shit–‘m sorry.” he groans, unable to keep still. his dick shamelessly twitches inside of you as bottoms out, overwhelmed by the sensation of your walls constricting around him. “just feels s’good.”

he takes a pause–stroking your cheek gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, peppering kisses along your jaw and throat. you moan softly, melting under the tenderness of it all.

“y-you can move.”

he obeys, slowly rolling his hips into you. the first few thrusts uneven and unsure, as though he's giving you the space to lead, to show him what you need. he’s studying you, memorizing every little sound you make, every shift in your expression.

what a nerd.

his pace grows steadier, deepening in time with your sighs as he slips a hand between your legs to toy with your clit.

you dig your fingers into the flesh of his biceps, trying to ground yourself, to keep from completely unraveling as you bite down on your bottom lip. the pleasure is dizzying—thick and consuming—but you’re still trying to keep quiet, to hold yourself together. but chris–god, chris is loud.

not just the occasional grunt or groan. no, he talks. a lot. rambling between each thrust, with breathless praise and desperate need, filling the space between your bodies with a kind of reverent worship that leaves you trembling.

“fuck–‘m so lucky,” he babbles, head dropping to your shoulder. “gonna make you mine–pussy s’all mine.”

your restraint crumbles, every broken sound tumbling out of you as his name spills from your lips in breathy, desperate bursts. the world narrows to the feeling of him inside you, a delicious pull that makes your body betray you, leaving you no room to pretend you're not entirely his.

then—he angles his hips just right, finding that sweet spot that scatters stars across your vision.

“right there chris–ah-fuck–just like that,” you cry out, clawing at his shoulders, dragging red crescents into his skin. he doesn’t flinch–looking down at you, pupils blown wide with lust.

“y-yeah? shit–keep saying my name, please.” he pleads, voice cracking with desperation, his hips never slowing, each thrust matching the frantic need in his words.

he look so beautiful above you–his face flushed a deep red, skin glistening with sweat, glasses askew and hopelessly fogged over. his mouth hangs open, chest heaving, eyes screwed shut in concentration. the sight of him—so undone, so lost in the moment—it’s too much.

“mmph~’m coming-” you chant his name like a prayer as your climax rips through you. you continue pulsing around his length, pulling him deeper, urging him to follow as you coat him with cum.

he falters for a split-second before finding a relentless rhythm, wild with the need to chase his own release. you wrap around him like you were made for it—tight, warm, overwhelming—and chris swears, in that breathless, reeling moment, that if this is how he goes, buried inside you, he’d die the happiest man alive.

“ohh f-fuck,” he whines, hips stuttering as he fills the condom.

your bodies remain tangled, breath mingling in the stillness as the last tremors of pleasure fade into the quiet. chris rests his forehead against yours, your chests rising and falling in sync, grounding you both in the moment.

he slips out of bed, disappearing for a moment, returning with a damp washcloth. “just–hold still,” he murmurs, cheeks tinged a rosy pink as he kneels between your legs and gently wipes you clean. you squirm a little, hands flying to your face as a wave of shyness settles over you in the aftermath. he chuckles under his breath, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

you lie shoulder to shoulder, a thin sheet draped over the both of you, your fingers idly tracing the shape of his hand.

“complicated things didn’t we?” he says with a nervous laugh, turning his head to look at you.

“maybe a little,” you giggle.

“worth it?”

“absolutely.”

he exhales, relief softening his features, and intertwines his hand with yours—because for all the uncertainty ahead, this feels right.

taglist: @bongwaterbunny

#until dawn #chris hartley #christopher hartley #x reader #smut #fanfic #chris hartley x reader #until dawn smut #until dawn fanfiction #chris until dawn smut #until dawn chris #until dawn chris smut #chris hartley smut #fluff #chris until dawn fluff #christ hartley fluff #xoxocher

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

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*groveling on the floor* nice simon

pleeaase anything w big sweet man simon 😭🩵

ugh… you know what's been on my mind lately?? neighbor!au with all my favorite men - but especially simon! here are some of my thots;

he's so... awkward and off-putting. in the sweetest way. like a stray dog that's only allowed to bite you. neighbor!simon, who's the perfect coresident. rarely home, and if he is, you don't even notice! except for those awkward elevator rides...

obviously, simon being the most vehement introvert, does his best to avoid him. but it's a shady apartment building. things happen; maintenance or rowdy visitors blocking the stairway. so sometimes it's easier to suffer thirty seconds of agonizing silence.

there was you. across the hall from the strange, intimidating man. it's difficult not to be frightened, especially when his way of communicating is through grim eye contact, or god forbid a deep sigh when you accidentally bump into him.

neighbor!simon is never upset with you, though. grumpy is merely his default :( for many reasons. but he always feels awful when you give him that anxious look or go out of your way to make space for him in the narrow hall.

it's not every day he meets someone like you, quiet and respectful of his boundaries. let alone live next to. so... he began to make peace his own way. taking advantage of him always being up at dawn; salting the pavement by your patio to ensure your safe commute to work. cleaning up the stack of mail that the courier tossed at your box, tucking it in neatly.

aaaand eventually moves on to more outgoing gestures. knocking on your door, two little taps with his knuckle. asking if you heard "that noise" outside, purely to make sure you were alright. partially his overthinking getting the better of him, also a cheeky move on his part to see your face.

finds a way to learn more about you, even when you're at your most bashful. typically, when he's caught you in your nightclothes, all pampered and ready for bed. next to him, you feel ridiculous, as if he's not wearing the most basic athleisure.

sometimes neighbor!simon will lean against the entrance of the building, watching cars and listening to the city noise. but he isn't out there for fun. in his mind he's waiting on someone; you. when he hears the creak of the rickety door opening, his posture becomes even straighter than usual.

"bloody cold out here, isn't it?" his gruff voice murmurs, breath visible with every word. months ago, the presence would've startled you. but you'd grown used to his very predictable, unpredictable routine of running into you.

you sigh out your words, rubbing your icy fingers together. no gloves, he notices, but doesn't acknowledge. "why aren't you inside, simon? place is pretty cozy if you look past the water damage."

simon scoffs, "i like the cold," he places his hands into his pockets and reaches for the door handle. "y' workin' today, love?" he inquires, despite noticing your work bag slung over your shoulder.

you mutter an unenthusiastic 'yes', exhaustion evident in your features. it's too damn early for you to be out and about, struggling to make ends meet.

he hums to himself as he walks away, waiting until your figure disappears before crossing the street. he's on his way to the nearest shop.

that evening, when you return to your flat with dragging feet, there's no sign of neighbor!simon. out front, out back, or in the hall. only sign of life is the flickering lamp peaking under the gap of his front door. frankly, you're too exhausted to think about it much.

you raise your key to the lock, stepping forward when it gives way. something blocks your foot, nearly sending you tumbling forward. you peer down at the quaint gift box, nearly embarrassed at the tumble it gave you. proves that your post-work tunnel vision is no joke.

curiously, you examine it. no fancy wrapping paper, plain cardboard. and in place of the ribbon is some decorative twine, halfway decently tied into the shape of a bow. with a gentle tug, you release it and take off the lid. the aroma of cardboard is stronger now, as well as a spritz of a very familiar cologne.

gloves; knitted and coordinated to match your winter jacket. you smile to yourself, taking one last look at simon's door behind you, just as he shuts off the lamp for the night, the spotty yellow glow ceasing.

waiting on you to get home safe, no matter how late. of course, there's a price tag on them. he's not that showy, or crafty. anything he'd try to knit would end up a crumpled slab of yarn.

stepping inside your flat, you set your things down on the counter and run your finger over the soft, thick material. you can already picture the relief these will be on your walk, no longer clocking in with stiff, frozen fingers. new winterwear was on your list for months, but you're notoriously bad at gifting yourself nice — basic — things. and apparently, it shows.

the hollow box rattles when you set it down, as do your keys. finally, you slip them on, thinking of all the days you passed your neighbor simon. never knowing how observant he could be, in the sweetest way.

and they're a perfect fit, of course.

#neighbor!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost x you #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #mw3 #rachel speaks

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months ago

Note

fluffy or funny prompt: jake or bradley finds out what the other has named them in their phone contact list/ finds out the (profile) picture they have set when called/ find out the phone background is of the other

Don't know if this meets what you meant but here it is! it might not make much sense but I haven't read it over after writing

Thank you so much for this prompt (and the other ones as well, will try to get to them at some point I think 😅)!

...

Sometimes, Jake thinks that if Bradley’s head wasn’t screwed on, he’d have lost it long ago too. Jake’s thought he was used to it but since he moved in a week ago, it’s been non-stop. This time, he’s been calling Bradley’s phone for the past five minutes, trying to find where in the house he’s left it.

Finally, Jake finds it vibrating in their bedroom, in their bed, of all places, and under Jake’s pile of pillows.

The face that greets him on the screen is his own — it’s his Facebook profile picture because Bradley is the type of old man that links his Facebook with his contacts book, no matter what he says. That part doesn’t surprise him, but as he lets it ring and ring in his hand, he can’t help being a bit offended.

“You have me saved by name and surname? Not even a heart emoji next to it,” he complains. The screen flashes once, Jake Seresin NOK written on top disappears and the whole thing swaps to black and then to Bradley’s basic default lockscreen. “What am I to you, your accountant?”

Only way it could be worse is if he used Jake's government name, Jacob and all.

“I've got everyone saved up that way, you’re not that special baby,” he says, unamused. “My pops did it this way and he was fine.”

For a second, something in Jake’s mouth dries out — he’s rarely heard anything about Bradley’s dad and yet this small little bit takes the air out of his lungs. Bradley doesn’t elaborate because he never does but he’s so used to it almost doesn’t hurt.

“Knew you're an old man deep down your heart.”

Bradley grumbles under his nose, rolling his eyes before he reaches his hand out for the phone — yeah, not gonna be that easy just now.

“Hey,” Jake says as he pretends to give him the phone. “What does NOK mean?”

“Nothing,” Bradley replies, his whole face turning a nice shade of pink that is only reserved for three things — being caught being sweet, being embarrassed, and being horny. Jake swiftly hides the phone behind his back, swapping the hands that come and try to “Come on, I was looking for it for a reason, I need to make a call—”

Bradley steps closer, close enough his knee pins Jake’s legs to the edge of the bed. Any closer and they’d be chest to chest, the warmth of his body already inviting Jake to lean into it, lean forward and take Bradley down into the bed with him.

“What are you so embarrassed about, huh? Got a gallery of my sleeping pictures in there?”

“Jake,” he spits out, arms trying to reach around Jake’s torso — he might have longer limbs than him, but Jake is faster and has more siblings to give up easily. “Sersin.”

“En—Ooh—Kay,” he repeats and then repeats again, now holding the phone behind his head, up in the air.

Bradley takes a step back and looks at the unpacked box of Jake’s shoes on the floor. His cheeks are full-on red now, and he’s pouting in that cute, hypnotising way that makes Jake want to squeeze his face and kiss his pretty little red nose.

“It means next of kin.”

“Oh,” is all Jake can get out for a second. His arms fall to his sides. “Am I your—”

Bradley nods his head before he can even finish. He’s still not looking at him. Jake doesn’t say but all he can think of is that his ma is his next of kin still.

“Most people just go with In Case of Emergency, you know,” he says instead. Bradley isn’t his NOK but he’s his ICE. There’s a difference. “Woulda be nice if you said something.”

“Well,” Bradley doesn’t even try to quip back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I have my phone back now?”

Jake does the carrot and stick thing again — hand with the phone out and retreating back as Bradley is inches away from it. He needs something more, some kind of explanation, explicit one that will confirm to him what Bradley means with the things he did.

“I don't know, can you?” he asks. Bradley scowls at him. “Shouldn't I at least know your code if I'm your next of kin?”

Instead of going for the phone again, Bradley flicks him on the nose. “I’m going to use the landline.”

They’ve been together for over nine months and he still doesn’t know so many things about Bradley, even as fundamental as who was his next of kin before Jake, or what happened to his dad.

Even just looking at Bradley’s phone, he feels something bitter — the joke about Jake’s sleeping pictures was the first thing that came to his mind, but the truth is, he doesn’t know what Bradley could have on his phone. He doesn’t use it often, far less than his walkman and his ipod, but he likes to take blurry pictures that Jake never sees the appeal of — planes in the sky, motorcycles he never even looks to buy, the seaside.

He’s never seen him take pictures of Jake.

Bradley’s phone is asking him for the pin code and Jake doesn’t know it but he wishes he did. It’s not like he wants to look at his texts or search history. He tries anyway — Bradley’s birthday gets him nowhere, his mom’s birthday gets him nowhere.

On a whim, he types in 1216. And it unlocks. Sixteenth of December is his birthday.

What knocks the breath out of his throat is the homescreen picture.

It’s Jake’s face, sleepy, blinking at the light from the phone’s lens, half-buried into Bradley’s chest and his ugly UVA hoodie. He doesn’t even remember Bradley taking this photo, doesn’t remember which of the times Jake napped on Bradley it is from, how long it could’ve been set as Bradley’s phone background.

“Oh.”

He locks the phone again. He’s seen what he wanted to see.

#thank you for the prompt(s) again!#pushing my 'bradley doesn't show even half of what he feels' agenda #also yes he doesn't use ICE because it reminds him of (and is confused with) Ice #also yes pops in question is ice #hangster #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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osleeplessflowero · 7 months ago

Text

Previous Part🍪 First Part 🎃 💜Oneshot Masterpost💙

[*Notes!] - Context from the previous 3 parts is heavily recommended. Please go check those out! - Reader is gender neutral, They/Them pronouns are used by default. - CONTAINS: Swearing, Typical Haunted House Violence, Mutual Pining - ❕New Tagging Section! If you would like to be tagged when I update this or any other of my series, please let me know in the comments/reblog tags! I'm always happy to.

@xcryptk33p3rx

Fire crackles in the fireplace near the TV, keeping the living room warm against the cold November air outside. You furrow your brows in your sleep before fluttering your eyes open, glancing around in confusion before remembering you'd fallen asleep the night before. Briefly glancing upwards, you freeze when you spot Sans' sleeping face, feeling your own burn as heat rises to it.

Shit, you fell asleep on him! ..Well, he fell asleep too.. For a skeleton, his body's surprisingly pretty warm..cushioned, too. Perhaps it's some kind of magic? It's comforting, in any case. You lean on him a bit, not quite ready to get up yet.

Slowly but surely, Sans' eyesockets open. His single eyelight rests on you, and he feels his skull burn as a mix of red and blue spreads across it. Your gaze meets his, and your face burns a little more. His expression of shock soon shifts into a smile as he looks down at you, catching you off guard.

"..comfortable?" He grins, earning a playful shove from you as you sit up. He chuckles at that, sitting up a bit himself. Such a change in demeanor..you might not be the only one who's gotten more comfortable. And you're not too sure whether that's a good thing, or a bad thing..for your heart's sake.

"You're like a big ol' cushion over there. You're a skeleton, how can you be so soft? And warm? Aren't bones supposed to be cold?" You tilt your head as you wonder aloud, earning a shrug from the skeleton next to you.

"it's just magic. makes our bodies more fleshed out than they actually are. if i appeared as just regular ol' bones, my clothes would be a lot closer to 'em. want an example?" He raises a browbone, and you match his expression. It wouldn't hurt to find out..

"Yeah, sure, show me." You offer, resting your arms in your lap. He adjusts his jacket a bit, before pulling up his shirt. Sure enough, there's a faintly visible magical outline there, a mixture of two colors of magic making a typical stomach. The view flickers in and out, transparent. You can see his actual bones beneath them, still fairly large but not as much as the magic makes him. Huh, makes sense. A few seconds pass before you realize you've been staring for far too long, and you quickly avert your eyes.

"Oh.. so that's how. Cool." You smile sheepishly as he pulls his shirt back down, pausing for a moment when you feel heat rise back to your face. "Oh, uh, by the way.. I'm sorry for falling asleep on you like that. I didn't mean to overstay my welcome, and..y'know.." You rub the back of your neck, avoiding eye contact until you hear him chuckle.

"hey, don't worry about it. i don't mind. you're..welcome anytime." He averts his single eyelight, a hint of color making its way across his skull again before you both hear who is presumably Papyrus coming back downstairs. Once his tall, slender form makes it down, you give him a wave.

"Good Morning, You Two! Have A Good Rest?" He grins slyly, causing you both to flush even further before Sans waves him off as he enters the kitchen; leaving the door open so he can still hear you both.

"yeah yeah, it was good. mornin', paps." Sans coughs into his sleeve before getting up. "i've gotta get ready for work soon, so you two talk."

"Wait, where do you work? I mean, I know you had that haunted house on Halloween, but like..where do you work normally?" You rest your arms in your lap, genuinely curious.

"..i'm still a scare actor, i just move around. i do it full time." He looks back at you, raising a browbone amusedly at your surprised reaction.

"Oh, really? I didn't think you'd wanna do that full time. I was thinking like...I dunno..you worked at a pet shelter or something." You shrug, standing up to go get your coat and tie it around your waist since it's too warm to wear yet.

He lets out a laugh at that. "and let all of those traumatized dogs bark at me in fear or gnaw on my bones? yeah, i think i'll pass on that. not for me. i don't mind dogs though. they're fun little guys."

"When They're Not Stealing Your Attacks From Under Your Skeletal Equivalent Of A Nose, That Is!" Papyrus calls out from the kitchen, earning a confused look from you as you glance towards his brother for context.

"underground, there was this little white dog who would keep showing up to steal the bones paps would use in combat, so he'd have to chase it down. ever since he's been super..wary, around dogs, i guess. it's pretty funny. i wonder what happened to that little guy.." He mutters that last part to himself as he goes upstairs to get changed.

You stand still for a moment, thinking over that last statement. ..There are a lot of aspects about Sans that you don't fully know or understand yet. What happened Underground to mess monsterkind up so badly? Considering the state a lot of them were in when they came up..it must have been pretty damn bad. A part of you wonders how Sans and the others are taking being surfaced, after everything they'd gone through. Maybe someday when you're close enough, you can talk to him about it..learn some things.

Papyrus slowly slides his skull into the room from the doorway, raising a browbone at you as he observes how you're longingly staring up the stairs waiting for Sans to come back down. Once he clears his nonexistent throat, you tense in place before slowly turning and walking over to the kitchen to help him with breakfast. It's the least you could do for being allowed to stay over so late.

"I Fear I May Be Out Of Those Delightful Cookies You Baked By The End Of This Week, Would You Be Willing To Come Over To Visit Again Anytime Soon?" He glances over at you while mixing pancake batter quickly, a hopeful glint in his eyesockets. You huff amusedly, giving his shoulder a nudge.

"Of course, Paps. I'd be happy to come back anytime. Beats hanging out alone at my place." At Papyrus' hum of acknowledgement, you stare at the bowl while he's mixing it in anticipation for the pancakes he's going to make. "..What will you be up to today?"

"I'll Be Going On A Class Trip With Our Friend Aliza! You Might Know Of Her As The Monster Ambassador. We Became Well Acquainted Underground! ..Well, After A Few..Traumatic Experiences, But- What's A Few Traumatic Encounters Between Friends, Hmm?" He laughs awkwardly, continuing to stir before pouring the batter into a pan.

You raise a brow at that, before shrugging. Well, if she's willing to go on a trip with him, surely they must be on pretty good terms now. That's what matters.

Sans shortly comes down a bit later, wearing clothes smudged in fake blood and a few other practical effects minus the mask he'd been wearing when you met him. Papyrus shoos you both away to the table, where you sit patiently while waiting for him to finish.

"..So, uh..hooow would you feel if I tagged along to see you in action? I've only gotten to see you at work once, and that experience was kinda..well, y'know." You offer, earning a nod in reply.

"i don't mind. it's just one of your run-of-the-mill haunted houses. animatronics, actors, practical effects, the works. i doubt you'd be the type to get scared by too much anyway.." He rests his arms on the table. "wantin' to spend some extra time with me, huh?"

Your face flushes at his sly grin, and you wave him off.

"Well, yeah- I like your company, so.." You cross your arms. He blanks at that, a bit surprised that you didn't deny his attempt at teasing you. Heat rises to his skull, a mixture of red and blue giving his feelings away before quickly dying back down as Papyrus returns with the food.

You both don't say much while you eat unless Papyrus prompts you to, and eventually you're both on your way outside, waving goodbye to him.

"m'kay, just hold on. you might feel a little dizzy once we get there. do not let go of me until we're on solid ground." He warns you ominously, a serious look in his eyesockets as you quickly walk over to grab his arm. Within a few seconds, the world seems to flicker.

You glance around a dark, empty void, the two of you being the only signs of life within it. It's cold..eerily silent. You could only hear your own breathing and the faint hum of Sans' magic within the space. A chill goes down your spine, and your grip on him tightens a bit before you finally land on solid ground.

"..And you just..look at that every day?" You blink, before staggering a bit. He quickly loops an arm around your waist to keep you up so you won't fall. You feel your face flush a little again as you look over it..he has really strong arms. Big, too. He could practically engulf you in them.

"yep. careful now, don't want you falling." He smiles a bit, before helping you stand up straight and entering the decorated building. You quickly follow behind him, before stopping at the entrance.

"Hmm..wouldn't hurt to get the intended experience-" You mutter, before letting him go further in and paying a small admission fee, entering when instructed. This'll be fun! You're sure this'll be a breeze to get through.

As a sound effect plays to signal that it's time to enter, you walk in alone. You can't help but feel a sense of familiarity as you do, thinking back to the first time you met Sans in one of these. Only then you had your shitty ex boyfriend ruining your experience, now you can enjoy your time by yourself.

A few actors jump out here and there, earning light yelps and a laugh from you as you make your way past them. You don't seem to realize it as you're doing it, but..your eyes dart around in the hopes of finding a tall silhouette you've grown accustomed to, waiting somewhere in the darkness. You're sure he's around here somewhere, based on the screams you just heard up ahead.

You pick up your pace a bit before entering a room off to the side, jolting once you hear the door lock behind you. Ah, an escape room. Of course. Okay..time to find a way out of here. First thing's first..gotta check your surroundings.

With a sigh, Sans tugs on the mask over his skull while watching over a set of cameras. It's a normal procedure he has to go through to know when his cue to go out is, he usually doesn't linger for too long and waits for one of the other actors to give him a cue. But this time, well..this time was a little different.

You were here, so he couldn't help but watch you work your way around the escape room with a determined smile. The way you light up when you find a puzzle solution, rushing over to solve it and moving to the next swiftly. The way you hesitate to reach into a box of fake guts they made out of random solutions and slime, before your Bravery overtakes you and you grab another puzzle piece. He can't help but find it charming, leaning a bit on the desk beneath all the screens as he watches you move.

Then he pauses a second. Reflecting. Those feelings that had been eating away at him the day before resurface. ..Fondness, appreciation..admiration. Maybe something more, something he hasn't grasped just yet. He puts a hand where his teeth are, feeling his skull burn. His magic forms that familiar mixture of blue and red across his skull, hot enough to cause his mask to emit a faint glow before he calms himself down. He can't get distracted like this, he's working.

A sound cue plays since the others are out acting at the moment, and he moves to get in position behind a bookcase. He closes his eyesockets, listening to the sound of your heartbeat. A hunting skill he'd learned down Underground when hunting down prey that had carried over into his life on the surface. ..He doesn't typically use it for much anymore, aside from to tell how scared the people he's acting for are. It can be pretty amusing to him, listening to their heartbeats speeding up at the mere sight of him. And that's BEFORE he takes out the prop hatchet.

You lift a small note that hints to go to the bookcase to retrieve the key, rushing over and moving one of the books to grab it. As you do, the case begins to rumble before moving off to the side. There he stands, looming over you and covered in fake blood. A wide grin stretches across your face, and Sans can hear your heart rate pick up once you recognize him. ..It's..not from fear, though. You're smiling way too wide for that..

"..Hey." You point finger guns at him. It takes everything in him not to smile, stepping out from his space in the bookcase. "Come here often?"

"are you seriously hitting on a masked murderer right now?"

"It's totally a fear response, I swear-" You let out a little laugh as he scoffs, before raising up his prop hatchet into the air. Your smile dies down almost immediately.

"regardless.. i'm still on the clock. so i suggest you start running." A grin stretches across his skull beneath his mask as you book it out of the room, quickly unlocking the door with him chasing you out and down the following hallway.

A tension in the air picks up as you run, hearing his booming footsteps behind you in the darkness. Adrenaline rushes through you and you can't help but smile, letting out a few laughs as you make daring escapes. You're..doing the complete opposite of what one would expect in here. Sans finds that a bit more charming.

A few other actors jump out at you as you run before sliding into a room, Sans still right behind you. The door closes behind you both as you rush over to the other door to try and open it.

"..Wait, is this another escape room?-" You're cut off by Sans making his way over. As you turn to face him, you lean against the door a bit as he corners you. You both take heavy breaths from how much running you'd been doing, taking the opportunity to stare at each other. Is it getting hot in here?

He moves his prop hatchet over, lifting up your chin with the fake blade so you look at him. His mask had come a bit loose, allowing you to see his shining red eyelight just barely illuminating his face. ..And then he grins.

"caught ya."

A shiver goes down your spine, and you feel your face burn. Any response that comes out is incoherent, earning a chuckle from the skeleton before you as he moves the hatchet away. You move your hand up to where the blade had been pressed absentmindedly, staring for a second.

"..the key's on the table there. looks like you made it." You glance over, spotting the key to the door. Internally, you facepalm. Why didn't you see it when you rushed in here? Taking it in your hand, you unlock it as a sound effect plays to indicate you'd made it out.

"That was fun. Nice work, Sans." You smile up at the skeleton, who huffs amusedly in reply. "I'll have to see how it is behind the scenes next time."

"can't wait." He gives you a pat on the back as you start to make your way out. Glancing over, you notice a bit of color crossing his skull as he pulls his mask back down. Seems he's a bit flushed, too.

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #scare actor!horror #horror sans #horror sans x reader #horrortale x reader #utmv x reader #undertale x reader #undertale au x reader #sans x reader #rain divider by animated-glitter-graphics-and-more #lilies divider by saradikagraphics

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