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#I can't draw hands and shoes
lukakishatu · 1 year
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I foRgoT thAt i HaVe tUMblr....but anyways look at my beloved cactus man huehueuhue 🐺🌵💜💕
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thebrainrotsreal · 2 months
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EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.
#mark and the fact he is fighting for this fucking life to avoid the Many Bad Endings???? im pacing. getting out the red string.#when the season is about who you are and what you could become. when trying to be good is an active choice and a struggle.#RAHHHHHHHHHHH#chewing on the bars of my enclosure...when every mark is evil OUR mark is the outlier. the exception. the OTHER. RAHHHH#dog poetry being mark poetry because how often can you kick a dog before it starts snarling before you raise your hand?#how often can you beat it before it rips into you without mercy? when it bites not at your hand but at your neck?#when does violence for survival and violence for vengeance start and end? when your opponent is down and you keep drawing blood?#circling and pacing and losing my mind over this btw if you care#anyways self vs self gets me going crazy. did you know i loved the end of atsv? because it shows.#i think o!mark would lose his fucking mind at what evil wasp looking mark has done + this mf wasp would LOATHE mark's kindness#they both see the other as the WORST version of themselves and they can't stand it. They can't shatter the mirror but they think they can--#--change the reflection.#evil mark seeing mark and seeing what he USED to be#mark seeing what he COULD be#CAN U SEE THE VISION??????#digital art#invincible rotating in my mind#invincible fanart#fanart#mark my beloved#mark grayson fanart#mark grayson#invincible s2#invincible show#mark like hello this is my secret twin and he is NOTHING like me hahahaha anyways wanna debate about having mORALS and LIFE#mark grayson vs the urge not to accept every responsibility as his own#he's batman coded that way#ok im done yapping#if this happened in the comics in any way shape or form dont tell me JACK SHIT or i will PUMMEL YOU with my SHOES
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alackofghosts · 1 year
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anyway. ardbear and bear of light
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keokartoffel · 3 months
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Eclipse✨
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"Personally if you felted a big fluffy hedge and had some glasses on the ground by it and his twinky limbs sticking out I'd be into it" - @blackswan-wildgeese
Guardian Bingo Fest's bonus prompt for March is 'Take A Leap' and I'm swapping my B5 'fake dating' prompt for this.
Despite several suggestions of various people being yeeted from various places "Professor Shen being yote off that roof" was the one that truly spoke to my permanently unserious soul. And this is why you should have friends that encourage your interest in crafting being used for shitpostesque purposes. I have spent half the time making this cackling to myself and if that's not a sign I made the right decision, I don't know what is.
The design changed and got slightly more complicated because what if Shen Wei had had to commit to his lie so much that we got a very different shot than what we actually got:
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Proportions and perspective are definitely way out but oh well. :D
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sunrisemiracles · 3 months
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Updated character drawings for the OC's from my Hazbin Hotel fanfic, Hell Is Other People! From left to right: Jan, River, Kat, and Leroy. Added legs and put them on a height chart for reference.
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thecrowperson · 2 months
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Kaidou manga panels I like: (pt 23)
Wannabe Powerpuff Girls: feat. Saiki and Nendou
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From: vol 1 ch 8
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comic-sans-chan · 1 year
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I am making a point
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aledmorningstar · 3 months
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╰┈➤Misunderstood
Summary: How the gang finds out about Sukuna's girlfriend in a misunderstanding.
Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader
Word count: 3.0k
Note: I'm a liar, I know I said this would go up yesterday, in my defense we set very optimistic goals. Please comment and feel free to send me anything to my inbox
-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, bad english
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The house of the twins Yuji and Ryomen seemed more lively than normal, as every weekend they had planned a movie afternoon, the meetings began early after leaving school, buying snacks, preparing comfortable clothes and choosing some games of table.
Yuji's face wrinkled into a displeased grimace at seeing his twin dressing casually to go out for a walk down the street, while he and his friends were already prepared wearing their comical pajamas, it wasn't fair. This time it was Yuji's turn to choose the movie so as not to let his brother get away with it.
“What are you doing?”
Sukuna turned to look for a second indifferently at his brother while he finished fastening the buttons of his dark shirt. How could he take seriously his brother who maintained an irritated pout while wearing those ridiculous tiger-themed full-body pajamas?
"I'm going out, tell mom I'll be late"
Yuji's moan of annoyance echoed throughout the house, drawing the attention of Nobara and Megumi who were stealthily trying to spy on the conversation by hiding behind a wall.
"You said you would watch Human Worm 4 with us today!"
The one with the caramel eyes began to complain about the injustice that was occurring, a perfect time for his faithful friends to take action.
“We already prepared everything, you can't leave us stranded for an afternoon of movies!”
Nobara grumbled as she tried to fix the sleeves of her raccoon pajamas.
"We made a pact, you must suffer with us"
Megumi was supposed to be the most mature of the group, perhaps Sukuna had overestimated him because he never imagined seeing him share the same neuron as his friends while also wearing ridiculous beige dog pajamas.
“It's a shame brats, it'll have to be another day.”
The older twin's hands didn't stop moving trying to find the car keys; he had somehow managed to look appropriately with a hint of elegance, but without losing that menacing aura, a pair of black pants held up by an expensive belt that he had stolen from his father, a dark gray shirt with the first few buttons open showing his collarbones and the sleeves perfectly arranged at his elbows showing his tattooed arms.
"You look like a criminal"
“Who said I'm not?”
Itadori's intentions to plant some blame on his brother for abandoning them on a seemingly important night were noticeable for miles.
"At least have the decency to tell me where the hell you're going."
Sukuna took a while to respond, his eyes straying suspiciously and the trio could see a slight nervousness on his face. Wait, nerves? Sukuna? Those words were naturally contrary, it even seemed strange to put them together in one sentence. Here was definitely another shoe that was taking a while to drop.
"Mind your own business, don't be nosy"
Itadori instantly stood between his brother and the front door, blocking his way, he would get to the bottom of this matter at any cost.
"Are you planning something bad? Mom will be angry if you get into trouble again"
"Yes, yes, yes. I plan to do many bad and illegal things, in fact in this mood I plan to strangle the first person in front of me"
Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi looked at each other before leaving the hallway clear, letting Sukuna walk.
"Behave badly, take good care of yourself and if they discover you, deny everything"
“See you”
Once the so-called evil twin left the house, the hallway was completely silent for a few seconds.
“Don't you feel...? Curiosity?"
An excited Nobara looked at her friends with bright, gossip-hungry eyes.
"No not really"
Megumi's voice was ignored as Itadori pushed the Fushiguro boy's face away with his hand.
"I was hoping you'd ask, Nobara! In fact, my brother has been acting strange lately."
Itadori put on a thoughtful expression as he remembered his brother's unusual behavior in recent weeks.
"What do you mean he's been acting strange?"
At that moment Nobara had taken on a detective attitude, while the previously disinterested Megumi began to listen attentively to his friends.
“He's been coming home late, more than usual.”
“That doesn't seem strange for someone like him.”
An exalted Itadori raises his hands dramatically as he defends his argument.
“But when he is usually late it is always because he is causing problems in the streets and he is not at all careful with his arrival, now it is different!”
Sharing a room with Itadori, Sukuna didn't care how scandalous he could be when he showed up at home after curfew. He didn't pay attention to the fact that the noise of his shoes being thrown to any side of the room or that the sound of his swear words every time he tripped over something could disturb his brother's sleep.
Lately, however, the nights that Sukuna had spent late away from home had become more frequent, and Itadori couldn't help but notice even in the dead of night how messy his twin's clothes were every time he returned with silent footsteps and he also did not overlook the large number of marks that stood out on Sukuna's neck.
“Also, he has been trying hard in all his school subjects, he has turned in all his homework and sometimes he goes out to the library to study. Did you hear what I said? He goes to the library to study!”
“That's definitely not the Sukuna we know, something is happening to him.”
The three teenagers headed to the living room to sit down to discuss more calmly and solve that mystery.
“Do you think someone is bullying him?”
Itadori looked worried for a split second at Nobara's statement until Megumi gave him a strange, brief sarcastic smile.
“Are you serious right now? Do you think Sukuna, the most feared man on campus, could be bothered by someone? Jesus Christ even earned the nickname “The King of Curses”
They didn't need much time to agree with Megumi, it was impossible to imagine Sukuna being submissive to anyone.
“True, it would make more sense for him to be the one who bothered someone… It can't be possible”
“I told him clearly not to get into trouble, but he never listens to me!”
“Wait, Yuji, calm down. Don't you think that if that's the case, he's spending too much time on that person?”
Itadori seemed to think about it for a second and his face transformed into one of much more dramatic horror than before.
"So he really hates that person! Maybe he's planning a murder? Your brother isn't exactly known for being patient"
Nobara's words were the little push Itadori needed to panic.
"Sukuna definitely can't go to the correctional facility again!... Mom was very sad back then..."
Nobara and Megumi looked into each other's eyes, unable to abandon their friend in such a situation.
"Fine! Our mission today is to prevent your brother from becoming a criminal.”
"Are we allowed to use force? I still have to get revenge for the books I lent him."
The brown-haired girl, Kugisaki, was the first to stand up and was followed by Fushiguro. It seemed like a scene worthy of a movie, this was the motivational part because both friends extended their hands to the boy in tiger pajamas.
“Wait, wait, wait… What happened to your books?”
“I'll ask your brother when I see him.”
It had been approximately 30 minutes since the trio of friends had located and followed Sukuna, a difficult mission that had begun with the friends running after the older twin's car. The fatigue was overcome by surprise when seeing the target enter a flower shop.
“We're late, he's already planning the funeral!”
“Wait, give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe… Maybe he's going to visit a friend?”
“Impossible, my brother has no friends”
Nobara and Yuji's brief talk was interrupted when they saw Sukuna leaving that flower shop with a huge and pretty bouquet of yellow carnations.
"You see it? Maybe your brother is not as bad as he seems” Nobara's voice tried to be optimistic, and it also seemed strange to her that a man would buy flowers for no apparent reason.
“Now I'm quite confused” Itadori, for his part, narrowed his eyes, staring at Sukuna, trying to read his brother's mind.
Megumi spoke with a stiff voice drawing the attention of his friends.
"Don't be so surprised, in the language of flowers, carnations of that color mean contempt"
"Is he turning his assassination attempt into a performance? He's getting creative"
"Hey, he's leaving. Hurry up"
The gang quickly got into a taxi and like every chase scene, Itadori and Nobara yelled at the driver to follow the car in front of them, Megumi had to apologize to the driver at the end of the ride.
Sukuna drove his car until he reached the darkest and most dangerous neighborhood that anyone could imagine, clearly that place had an invisible sign indicating that it was better not to be there, there were few passers-by and the streets were cold with graffiti everywhere.
The older twin got out of his car after having entered the area a little, he walked as if that place was his territory, as if he felt at home, he adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, raising them to his elbows, with a bored look he observed the time on his watch and then leaned his back against the wall waiting patiently. Meanwhile, the trio had remained hidden behind a pile of boxes and seemingly useless objects, thinking about Ryomen's intentions.
"There isn't a soul in this place, what is he planning to do?"
Itadori's question was answered when Megumi held his jaw making him look to his right, his eyes widened as he saw a girl with a small frame, transmitting an aura of delicacy and fragility, she was the complete stereotype of a little princess wearing a pink dress and white sneakers, light makeup and a flower crown adorning her hair, she looked out of context walking with a smile and humming a song in that horrible alley.
"It can't be her... There's no way Sukuna..."
Nobara's words were cut off when the red-eyed man put out his cigarette and walked over to where the girl was with a proud smile on his face.
The fear that this small, fragile woman could be hurt by his violent brother made Itadori quickly get up from his hiding place and stand in front of his brother.
"Sukuna! Stop right there, don't do it!"
The sudden entrance of his nosy brother surprised Sukuna who maintained a displeased scowl at his twin's actions.
"What the fuck? Get out of the way brat, I'm on something important right now"
"Don't you dare take another step, don't do something you'll regret!"
Itadori's voice took a drastic change, sounding too threatening compared to his usual cheerful tone.
"What the hell are you talking about? Leave me alone, I don't have time for this."
Sukuna looked at the horrified girl who was just a few meters away from him, he pushed his brother away with one hand with the intention of walking towards where she was, however he was stopped and subdued on the ground by Megumi.
“Don't even try it, you disgusting scoundrel.”
“Leave me alone, you fucking bastards!”
While the three men argued and fought among themselves, Nobara also came out of her hiding place and walked towards the frightened woman, being careful not to exalt her even more, Kugisaki placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.
"Are you okay? “Did he do something to you?”
The girl's hands remained covering her mouth, completely surprised by the situation. She instantly left Nobara and ran quickly to where Sukuna was lying on the ground.
"What are you doing?! Get your hands off him!"
Megumi and Itadori's movements stopped, still holding Sukuna on the ground, they turned to look completely surprised at the owner of that little voice, their minds went blank as they watched her approach, she put her hands on Fushiguro's chest. making an attempt to push him away from the red-eyed twin.
"What are you doing to my boyfriend?! Leave him alone!"
Still bewildered, Itadori was the first to move away and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder for him to do the same, allowing Sukuna to stand up a little dazed.
"I don't know what 'Kuna did to you, but what you are doing is not right, it is not right to intimidate others, problems are solved by talking"
You stood in front of your boyfriend trying to be the one to defend him this time, you used to be a little shy when talking to strangers, but you weren't going to let your lover be the victim of such an unfair situation.
"Honey, calm down. They are—"
"No, love! They were very mean to you, no matter who they are!"
You knew that Sukuna had a special weakness for you that made him want to protect you from any danger, everyone told you that, obviously he would also want to take control of this situation in his hands. No, this time it was your turn to protect him, to be his knight in shining armor.
On the other hand, there were also the three idiots who had tried to play detective, watching the situation in astonishment.
"She... just called him love"
“Yes, she really did”
"I can't believe it"
Ryomen had tried to calm his girlfriend's little anger by taking her hands and caressing them, it worked for a few seconds until that trio spoke again.
Upon hearing the incredulous voices of those strangers, you let go of Sukuna's hands and walked a few steps close to those you thought were criminals.
"Listen, my parents are very important people, I will make sure you are punished appropriately"
Your acute and sweet angry voice was silenced by Sukuna's lips, one of his large hands finding a place on your waist while the other caressed your soft cheek.
"It's okay, princess"
"No, it's not okay-"
You tried to reply to his deep voice, you would be lying if you said it didn't make you shiver, his voice was only directed at you, only for you to hear, that made you calm down and also lowered the tone of your voice.
"Pretty, this is my stupid brother and his friends."
"...Impossible, it can't be…, they were subduing you"
"Don't worry, I'm sure they have a good explanation for doing all this, right?"
The affectionate look that Sukuna had given his supposed girlfriend had changed drastically when he turned to look at his friends, removed his touch from his beloved and walked towards the frightened trio, cracking the fingers of his fists.
"Last words?"
Approximately 10 minutes had passed after that disastrous encounter, Sukuna had considered himself generous that day so he decided to take his brother and his friends to the house where they should have stayed from the beginning, very kind, it had nothing to do with his girlfriend will look at those three idiots like abandoned puppies.
"How were we supposed to know you were visiting your girlfriend?"
"What kind of dates are you taking her on?"
"Yeah, you looked like you were about to commit a crime!"
Of course Itadori, Megumi and Nobara tested their patience throughout the car ride, complaining from the back seats and trying to alleviate the pain caused by the car owner's blows. Your curious little eyes turned to look at the trio with intrigue.
"Why do you say that?"
None of them knew how to answer your question, the answer was so obvious that they thought you were stupid or blind, of course none of them said that thought out loud, not when they felt Sukuna's psychopathic gaze in the rearview mirror. However, that didn't stop Yuji from continuing the conversation either.
"You were alone in that horrible and dangerous place, it is the perfect opportunity for a madman"
"Oh, that..."
Your calm reaction to that comment only confused them more, you were too sweet to be in those places and even worse to be there with Sukuna for no good reason.
"Her parents are renowned people and they do not agree with our relationship, that is why we must meet in the most discreet places possible"
"Sometimes dad hires people to watch me, so our meeting point for dates is that place."
The older twin's words left the dynamic trio thinking, especially Itadori and Nobara, Megumi didn't really care much, your complementation made them imagine a current version of Romeo and Juliet. The explanations of your strange relationship had clarified most of his doubts regarding the strange day.
"Wait, what about the flowers?"
Nobara's comment made all the attention focus on Ryomen who wrinkled his face in confusion until he remembered the detail that his friend was talking about at the same time that he stopped the car in front of his house.
"What flowers?"
"Oh right, I brought you something"
Sukuna got out of the car and went to the back taking something out of the trunk, a nice big bouquet of flowers appeared in front of you held by your handsome boyfriend.
"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have bothered."
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
You received the beautiful flowers in your small hands, allowing yourself to smell them, such a fresh smell while you lovingly observed your loved one and he returned the same look, absorbed in that cloying atmosphere.
Of course that beautiful moment was not the most comfortable for everyone present, much less for Yuji Itadori imitating his twin with a shrill and annoying voice, since he had never seen his brother in that silly state.
"It's no bother when I can make you happy"
“I'm going to kick your ass”
Megumi couldn't stay silent for long either, because something kept echoing in her mind.
"But the meaning of flowers..."
"Excuse me?"
You looked at him with a smile so sweet and innocent that he hesitated for a second on his next words.
“Those flowers have a negative meaning…”
"It's funny you think my 'Kuna knows the meaning of flowers"
"We should have assumed that"
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here
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cyberjam · 1 year
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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onismdaydream · 23 days
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⋅˚₊‧ PEACHES AND CREAM !
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ASS OR TITS — everyone's got a preference and they make it known whenever they fuck you.
ft..!: t. fushiguro, y. itadori, i. takuma, n. zen'in, m. zen'in | s. gojo, s. ieiri, y. okkotsu, s. kong | r. sukuna, s. geto, k. nanami | m. fushiguro, h. higuruma | c. kamo
warnings..!: MDNI. fem/afab reader. aged up characters. penetrative sex. no protection. dry humping. rough sex. titjob. double penetration. thigh fucking. oral (m and f rec.) pet names. not proofread.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
it's an easy answer for him, what with the way his large hands always end up kneading and grabbing the fat of your ass. the soft flesh raw and red, the print of his palm practically branded on you.
“fuck, angel,” he grunts, voice gravelly and making you flutter around his length. “she’s gripping me like a vice.”
“tojiii,” you whine, drool dribbling from your mouth and soaking the sheet beneath you. it's hard to do anything other than follow his pace, your ass moving back to meet his thrusts, punching out more lewd sounds from your lips. his cock makes you dumb —something he likes to tease you about — but who could blame you when he fucks you so good?
“i know, baby. can't think straight, huh?” he squeezes your cheeks roughly, spreading them to watch the way your pussy sucks him in. his thumb brushes against your rim, pushing slightly but not yet breaching. “gonna fuck this tight hole next.”
YUJI ITADORI
he groans softly next to your ear, his broad chest against your back and strong arms holding you close. soft lips press sloppy and wet kisses along your neck, drawing out sighs from your beautiful mouth. yuji’s hips thrust forward, his thick bulge twitching even underneath the layers of clothes.
“you feel so good,” his voice is breathy, shaky almost, like he's fighting to stay in control. “fuck, ‘m not even inside you and ‘m gonna cum.”
your ass feels amazing against him, soft and firm as he grinds, his cock trapped between your bodies. his hands move along your skin, one of them slipping under the band of your shorts, his warm fingers rubbing along your slit. he gathers the slick leaking from you and massages your throbbing clit.
the moans you make are music to his ears.
“wan’ you to cum, baby. wanna cum with you.” yuji urges, the pressure of his touch on your bud increases when he feels you tense. you shudder against him and he spills his load in his underwear.
INO TAKUMA
“fuck,” he hisses, fingers gripping your hips so tightly it's bound to leave bruises. “just like that, baby. keep ridin’ me like that.”
you lean forward, placing your hands next to his legs for better leverage as you bounce up and down on his cock. unfortunately, you couldn't see ino’s expressions, but his words and responses were plenty to assure you that you're doing a perfectly fine job. he encourages you, each breath he takes followed by praise that makes your walls clamp around him.
“shit, gotta—”
you can feel him twitch inside you, the warning dying on his lips as he hurriedly pulls his length out. the wet schlick sounds of a half dozen strokes fill the room before he groans, his cum splattering against the top of your ass.“so pretty.” you hear him mumble, still catching his breath. he runs a thumb through the mess, rubbing the sticky cum into your skin. he likes the idea of you being covered in him.
NAOYA ZEN'IN
“this is how whores should be fucked,” the heel of his shoe digs uncomfortably into your skull, face squishing into the cool tile of the floor, his voice dripping with venom. “like a fuckin’ bitch.”
a sob rips from your throat, but naoya doesn't care. you misbehaved, made a fool of him in front of his clansmen, and this was your punishment. your pussy leaks slick despite your embarrassment and discomfort, forming a puddle underneath you as he thrusts into your tight ass.
“n-naoy—aah!” your lower lip trembles, tears falling freely as a loud smack rings throughout the room, your flesh burning at the sensation.
“i didn't give you permission to speak, bitch.” another spank, this one harder than the last, and you choke out a pathetic cry. he tugs on your wrists, one hand easily keeping a bruising grip behind your back. “i should gag you — wouldn't cause any more trouble for me then.”
MAKI ZEN'IN
fucking you into the mattress was something maki excelled at, one hand on your spine to force you into a perfect arch and make you melt into the bed. the fat of your ass ripples with each snap of her hips, her pace rough and brutal — the perfect way to expend the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
“maki,” your fingers curl around the sheets underneath you, grip tight and turning your knuckles white. “s-slow down, ‘s too much.”
tears stain your cheeks when you turn your head, trying to catch a glimpse of maki behind you, but her eyes are focused elsewhere. her lips are parted, her breathing shallow and short, scarred chest rising and falling quickly. you call out her name again, though it's more of a whine at this point.
dark eyes meet yours, a deep desire swallowing the usual brightness.
“sorry, got distracted.” her pace slows, a more calculated grinding taking its place, weapon calloused hands massaging your ass. that hunger drips into her voice, smooth and predatory. “let me make it up to you.”
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SATORU GOJO
his snowy lashes flutter against his flushed cheeks, his mouth slightly open as he pants, a beautiful sight that you never tire of.
“shit,” satoru breathes out, his hips stuttering as he kneels over your chest. “perfect fuckin’ tits. god, it's like they were made f’r me.”
you smile up at him, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you push your breasts together, creating a tight channel for him to rut into. it was no secret that satoru loved your boobs, his hands constantly groping at them no matter where you were. and it was no secret that you loved to make satoru feel good.
his cock slides out, just the tip remaining in the space between your tits, and he spits down on his shaft, making it even more slippery. a shuddering gasp leaves his lips, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he continues his pace.
“yeahhh, that's it. hold it tight for me, angel. w’nna cum on your gorgeous tits.” 
SHOKO IEIRI
“look at you, baby.” the sickly sweet smell of nicotine hangs off shoko’s breath, her lips close to your ear as she stands behind you. “you wear all this just for me?”
you catch her gaze in the mirror, your cheeks warming as her eyes keep drifting down the reflection to take all of you in. her fingers itch to touch you, but she keeps them on your shoulders, prompting you with a hum when you don't answer.
you nod, then, guiding one of her hands to the lacy fabric covering your breasts. a smile quirks at shoko’s lips as she feels the warmth radiating off your skin. her palm engulfs your tit, squeezing it just hard enough to get a soft cry to fall from your mouth.
“you look so beautiful,” her voice is gentle and she pulls you flush against her body, both of her hands holding your chest now. you relax, your head falling back onto her shoulder as her lips press along your neck.
YUTA OKKOTSU
your fingers card through yuta’s silky hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp and eliciting a low groan from him. the vibrations spread through your body, his mouth never leaving your tits for more than a second. his tongue is hot against your skin, licking and messily kissing every inch he can reach.
his cock is throbbing — nearing the verge of painful — as it's trapped beneath him, his hips humping into the mattress in slow rolls. he can feel the precum soaking into his pants, making everything sticky and even more uncomfortable, but he's far too engrossed in the quiet moans and soft sighs leaving your lips to care.
“yuta,” you cry out when his teeth scrape against your sensitive nipple. your own hips buck up into his body and your fingers tighten their hold in his hair, pulling on his dark locks.
thick precum blurts from his cock, dirtying himself even more, and making his body tremble.
SHUI KONG
“that’s it, doll,” an easy smile pulls at the corner of his lips, eyes half lidded as he watches you grind on his lap. “keep moving just like this.”
shui’s hands rest on your body, one of them covering the fat of your tit, thumb brushing over your stiffening nipple. you roll your hips slowly, sensually, his thick tip dragging against that spongy spot inside you. his gaze flickers between your face and your chest, wanting to see the fucked out expression that he quickly became addicted to, but also craving the sight of your tits moving so beautifully. it should be criminal, really, just how flawless those tits of yours are.
“think you can bounce for me, baby? ride my cock and show me your perfect tits?”
fingers drifting down to grip your hips, shui groans softly when you start to move, the walls of your cunt squeezing him tight and your breasts following your motions.
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RYOMEN SUKUNA
your nails claw at every part of him you can reach, leaving trails of red in their wake, marking his skin as you cry out. it's so much — too much — for you to handle, but sukuna grinds his hips forward regardless. you feel like you are being ripped apart, his thick cockheads breaching your dripping hole.
“s’kuna,” you hiccup, tears freely flowing down your cheeks as he sinks another inch in. it hurt. “‘s too much.”
“quiet, brat,” his large figure looms over you and you feel even smaller than before. “you asked for this, so take it.” 
a harsh smack to your clit makes your body jolt, slick dribbling from your pussy as it's stretched to its limits. your cunt feels impossibly tighter around sukuna, squeezing and fighting against the intrusions of his cocks, your walls twitching with every rough thrust.
sukuna isn't going to stop until he fills you to the brim, both with his cocks and his cum.
SUGURU GETO
suguru has the patience of a man that you've never witnessed, willing to draw out your own pleasure to ensure you see stars before he even thinks about himself. he takes pride in the way he can make you fall apart with just his mouth and he will spend hours in between your legs if you let him, tongue lapping at your dripping slit.
a broken moan of his name spills from your mouth as he pushes you over the edge for the second time, his large hands on your thighs to keep you from squirming away. your essence coats the bottom half of his face, his pretty lips shining with slick and cum.
“did so good for me, baby.” your legs are shaking still, but suguru finds his place again, teasing your sensitive skin with featherlight kisses. “gimme one more and then i’ll give you a break.”
you want to protest — want to push his head away before you pass out — but your hips still cant towards his mouth and you feel him smile against you.
KENTO NANAMI
his breath is hot against your skin, forehead pressing to yours as you both pant and moan into each other's mouth. you're folded in half, your legs being pushed by kento’s chest as he fucks you deep and hard. you swear you could feel him in your throat, his cockhead practically bruising your cervix — but you're not one to complain.
“kento,” you mewl, voice going high as he grinds his hips, his body weight resting on top of you to keep you still. every breath is punched out of your lungs and all you can suck in is him.
nanami couldn't pull out even if he wanted to, your pussy wrapping around his length so tightly. and you're so warm and wet, too, making the sound of your cunt getting fucked echo around the bedroom.
“you feel amazing, angel,” a whisper of praise that he kisses into your mouth, pulling a sweet whine from you. “so perfect for me.”
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
“oh, fuck,” he pants, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips stutter, trying to keep himself from orgasming too soon. your thighs are sticky with a mix of his precum and the overly generous amount of lube used, making his thrusts between your legs an easy glide. megumi’s fingers flex on top of your knees, your calves resting over his shoulders.
a shudder works through his body as your fingers brush against his leaking tip, eyebrows pinching together, climax threatening to wash over him.
“‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” it's meant to be a warning, but you take it as an invitation.
with a bitten back smile, you flex your thighs, tightening around him just as he starts to slowly grind his hips forward.
“yeah? gonna cum all over my thighs, megumi?” you tease and feel his grip on you increase to the point where there's no doubt you'll have bruises later. he groans in response, humping into you as he chases the feeling.
HIROMI HIGURUMA
hiromi’s nose brushes across your wet lips, settling into the space where your thigh meets your mound. his teeth graze against the sensitive skin and you close your legs on instinct, momentarily trapping your lover’s head. he doesn't mind, though — far from it. he’d happily suffocate in between your plush thighs.
his fingers grab onto your flesh, forcing your legs open once again. your chest heaves, clit throbbing and swollen as hiromi neglects where you need him most.
a quiet whine leaves your lips, brows pinching together as you struggle to stay still, the urge to hump his face growing stronger and stronger.
“patience, darling,” his voice is smooth, lips placing sweet kisses along the expanse of your thighs. “let me worship you.”
he takes his time, thoroughly covering every inch of your skin with his love. gentle nips and harsh sucks and soothing licks, leading to blooming bruises and love bites. a reminder to himself that you are his as he is yours.
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CHOSO KAMO
his hand covers his mouth, muffling the sounds that threaten to fill the room and get the two of you caught. choso promised he would be quiet, begged you so sweetly to help him with his erection, and he doesn't plan on going back on his word. but it proves to be nearly impossible with the way your tongue slides along his length, your cheeks hollowing to provide the suction that makes his knees weak.
tears prick at your lash line as you take him as far as you can, his thick tip nudging against the back of your throat. a mixture of drool and precum spills from your spread lips, mouth aching from the stretch of his cock.
choso whines softly, biting his lower lip to stifle the noise as he moves his hands to brace himself on the wall behind you. you could feel his cock twitch, taste the salty precum that slides down your throat, see his abdomen flex — he's close.
and you love watching him fall apart above you.
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bluejeanstrash · 2 months
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rule no. 1
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summary: you have a no-contact rule going with your ex, choi seungcheol, but fortunately unfortunately for you, he’s not really the type to follow them.
tags: ex! seungcheol x reader, seungcheol’s kind of toxic and doesn’t know how to let go, tit sucking (both cheol and reader), piv sex, protected sex, then unprotected sex (stay safe out there), pet names (daddy, good girl), cheol is written based off EXACTLY how he looks in these pictures | wc: 2.7k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
8:11 PM
[choi seungcheol] hey
[you] what
[choi seungcheol] can we meet today?
[you] i don’t think that’s a good idea
[choi seungcheol] just to talk. nothing else. i swear.
[you] dude, what are you doing? you know we’re supposed to be going no contact. plus, it’s raining
[choi seungcheol] i’ll come to you
[choi seungcheol] and don't call me dude ever again or i'll seriously kill myself
[you] NO. do not come here. it’s late. let’s talk tomorrow okay?
11:17 PM
[choi seungcheol] i’m downstairs
[you] seungcheol..
[choi seungcheol] you want me to leave? i drove all this way though?
[you] fine.
[you] just talking.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
his shock red hair. that’s the first thing you notice after opening the door, followed by just how good he looks with it. stop.
seungcheol walks straight in, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and dropping them in that little bowl on your shoe cabinet. then he looks at you. no, he checks you out, his eyes slowly sliding up your body to see what you’re wearing.
god, he has no self control. you knew he’d do that, which is why you’d worn your frumpiest PJs. a clear visual indication that nothing was going to happen tonight.
‘just talking’ you reiterate, drawing an imaginary line on the floor with your foot.
seungcheol laughs, extending his arm, signaling you to walk ahead and lead the way. the thing is, he wants to check your ass out. though you may think this is your frumpiest pair, there’s something in the material which makes it cling to your cheeks, making them look extra juicy.
seungcheol follows behind you, maintaining the “line” until you pause abruptly and he takes a step too close. just like that, he’s already crossed it, and then, he’s already kissing you, already taking off his glasses, already tossing his beanie aside, already grabbing your ass, already carrying you to the bedroom.
‘t-this is a bad idea’ you stutter, trying to find some of that self-control you keep asking him to show.
‘i know. so bad’ he breathes into the curve of your neck, sucking on the skin hungrily until it breaks. ex-seungcheol was obsessed with leaving marks of himself on you — hickeys, bites, hand prints.
he stumbles into the bedroom, leaving the lights off, and sets you down on the edge of the bed. no, you can't be doing this again.
‘seungcheol, i really don’t think-’
‘shh, don’t say anything, just kiss me. look at me' he grabs your chin, angling your face up ‘kiss me’ he says like it’s just that simple. seungcheol snakes his long tongue into your mouth, kissing you, his hands busy unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to let his cock breathe. as you kiss, he lays you down on the bed, driving a knee in between your legs to spread them apart.
‘do you still like it when i do this?’ he asks, as if there’s any answer apart from fuck yes, and presses his knee to your core, grinding hard, sending pulses of pleasure straight through you. you answer with an involuntary moan, stifling it just in time so he doesn't hear.
you see, seungcheol doesn't need an answer from you. he can already guess from your erect nipples which are poking through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, asking to be sucked on. who's he to deny them that? so, he pushes your t-shirt up, above your tits, grabbing and pressing them together, and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.
‘fuck’ he inhales ‘missed this’
ex-seungcheol was all about missing you — missed your smell, missed this pussy, missed your pretty little mouth, missed you. you know seungcheol. you know once he latches onto your tits, he's not leaving till you both have finished. so, you make a last-ditch attempt.
‘you know that article i sent you?’ he cups a breast in each hand, rolling, teasing, and tugging your nipples in between his fingers.
‘it-’ god, that feels good ‘it says the best way for us to do this is to go no-contact. really’
‘yeah?' you nod, surprised he's even listening.
‘fuck that article’ and with that he takes you in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola before latching his soft lips onto your hard nipples. fine, just one last time then, you pacify yourself and let go. you sink into the feeling of your breasts being sucked on, while your fingers sink into his thick hair, tugging on tufts of red.
‘the red looks fucking hot, by the way’ your compliment sandwiched in between soft moans. seungcheol pulls off your breast, looking up at you, a sudden hunger in his eyes.
ex-seungcheol loves compliments. loves them. — compliment his face, his hair, his built, and definitely compliment his cock. he needs to be desired by his exes.
he leans back, ripping his overshirt and t-shirt off, his hair falling wildly over his face. seungcheol runs both his hands through his locks, slicking his hair back. ‘take your clothes off’ he’s got a little gruff in his voice ‘now’
you undress hastily, and it’s not until you see a cocky grin spread across his face, you realise what he’s noticed.
‘just talking, huh?’
you’re wearing those panties — the ‘pull aside pair’ as he called it. seungcheol loved these on you, it was his favourite because firstly, they just about covered your cunt and secondly, they would ride right up your ass giving him the best view. you and him both knew that if you’re going to wear these panties, he’s going to fuck you with them on.
of course you’d prepped incase he did come over, which had happened one too many times before, but the optics of this really don’t help your no-contact agenda.
‘let’s talk then’ he pulls his jeans and boxers off, his cock springing out. yummy.
‘why don’t we talk about how you’re wearing these, hhmn?’ he cocks an eyebrow, snapping the band of your underwear hard ‘you know what happens when you wear these’ you can’t count the number of times he’s cum on your ass while you were in them.
he pulls your panties to the side, and there, another surprise. ‘oh, fuck me’ he groans needily. not only have you shaved down there, but you’ve trimmed your hair just the way he likes it.
‘fucking hell’ seungcheol curses again, licking and sticking a finger inside you, feeling your wet warmth pull his finger right in. ‘or no, let’s talk about how i can already fit one. no, two. oh? three?’ yes, three.
‘three of my fingers inside your pussy so easily’ he slides them in, all three coming out with a glossy sheen. and then, in a sickeningly sensual move, his runs his flat tongue over all three, licking them clean.
‘you taste like you need a dick inside you’ seungcheol grabs his, slapping it hard against his cupped palm. it’s like every thought in your mind turns into mush at the sound, and suddenly you’re just a hole. an empty hole.
‘cheollie’ you shouldn’t be calling him that ‘please put your big fat dick inside me. i need you so bad, cheollie’ you know exactly what to say to seungcheol to make him tick. ex or not.
he groans, pulling down a pillow and placing it under your lap to lift your hips. then he positions himself, lining himself up to your entrance.
‘wait’ you pause, much to his dicks disappointment, to grab a condom from the bedside table, your body twisting on its side. fuck, that ass looks good, seungcheol thinks, giving it a tight slap. ‘mmm’ you bite your lip, looking back at him.
‘again, daddy’ he slaps it even harder, the force of his palm making ripples on your skin. he looks at you now, so full of lust, and he can’t remember why he ever let you go. stupid fucking decision.
‘be a good girl and put it on for me’ it was one those odd things that really turned him on. he watches now as you rip the condom wrapper with your teeth, slowly rolling down its slippery edges onto his fat dick.
‘now come to daddy’ you lay back down as he grabs your legs and slides you towards him, a little squeal spilling out of you.
‘tell me what you want’
‘i want your fat dick inside my tight wet pussy’
‘that’s my girl’ he hooks two fingers under the ribbed fabric of your panties and pulls them aside, sliding his tip up and down your slick folds a few times before pushing just his fat mushroom head in. ‘fuck’ you both curse at the same time, and in the same breath as he penetrates you little by little until he’s all the way in.
‘shit, missed this pussy so much’ and you don’t say it out loud, but as he starts thrusting you’re reminded of just how much you missed his cock. no amount of vibrators and dildos could do for you what seungcheol is doing right now. it’s like he’s been able to scratch an itch deep, deep inside you. literally.
seungcheol repositions himself, leaning a little lower, angling his strokes a little higher, his cock teasing the roof of your pussy. once he’s satisfied with how he’s buried inside you, he slides his big hands up your arms before gripping your wrists tightly, shackling them in his palms, and slams down, pinning you onto the bed and fucking you.
‘oh fuck, yes’ you moan, in that nasal little way you do, which he finds stupidly hot.
‘that’s what daddy likes to hear’ he grins, his tongue touching his canines.
speaking of stupidly hot, you can’t help but notice how good he looks on top of you. has he gotten bigger? looks like it. his chest seems to have doubled, looking bigger, firmer, and frankly, more suckable. has he gotten hotter? definitely. maybe it's an ex thing or maybe it’s the red hair. god bless his hairdresser.
you’re a little dazed honestly, by his buff(er) built, especially the silver cross necklace that’s hanging off his thick neck, swinging above your face with every thrust.
‘like what you see?' he raises his eyebrow, catching you staring, and in response you bite on the dangling silver and pull him down towards you. you take his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit like a couple of teenagers.
now closer to you, you get a whiff of the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes coming off him. you wonder where he was before this, and who got to see him looking this fine. there’s a hot sting of jealousy that cools when his chain skims across your breast, the cold metal making your nipples hard in an instant. seungcheol gets distracted by your tits once again, pushing them together and holding on as he fucks you.
‘love your tits’
‘love yours’ oh, they’ve definitely gotten bigger, you think, cupping one in your hand and circling your thumb over his nipple.
‘fuck yes, suck on it’ he bends, and you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tits, flicking his hard nub with your wet tongue.
‘yes, that’s it, good girl’ he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face into his chest. seungcheol loved getting his nipples stimulated, and you feel the pleasure you're giving him pound straight back into you.
‘fucking love your pussy’
‘mmm, love your fat cock in my pussy’
‘love-’ the words are at the tip of his tongue, but before he says the stupid thing he’s not supposed to say, you kiss him, clenching your cunt so tightly and abruptly that it knocks the strength out his arms for a split second.
‘fuck, that feels amazing’ he groans ‘love your pussy so much. it’s made just for me’
‘just mine to fuck, only mine’ his possessiveness — one of the reasons it didn’t work, but so sexy in this moment.
‘yeah?’ you know what he’s really asking. he wants to know if you’ve fucked anyone else in your weeks apart, if there’s a legitimate reason for that condom separating the both of you or if its a formality. he needs to know.
ex-seungcheol is greedy — he reminded you of a bratty child at times. it was not his toy anymore but he refused to let anyone else play with it. mine!
‘only yours’ you say, and take it a step further, whispering into his ear ‘i’m only yours so take the condom off and fuck me raw’
the no-contact rule dies a violent death as he pulls out, yanking off the condom and sliding his fat, veiny, throbbing cock back inside you in what seems like less than a second.
‘fuck’ the sensation of your raw slippery cunt in contrast with how tight you’re clenching around his dick makes him curse. you wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your foot into his back to push him deeper inside you.
‘y-yes, i can feel you so deep’ you breathe, two of your fingers sliding down to rub your swollen clit in sloppy circles.
‘god i love it when you play with your pussy with my dick deep inside you’ he’s fucking you so forcefully now that the slap of his skin against yours is all that can be heard.
your arch your back, closing your eyes and focusing hard on all the ways you’re being stimulated — your fingertips on your clit, the tip of his penis pressing against your walls, and his heavy balls slapping against your asshole — all the sensations twisting into a knot in your stomach.
‘you’re there, right there. do it’ he guides you ‘be a good girl and cum for me now’ his words are all you need as the knot tightens and then unravels, the orgasm taking over you from your head to your toes. it’s an addictive high, one that you’ve desperately missed, and it leaves you shaking and stuttering under him.
‘yes, there you go, there it is. fuck’ he pulls out his cock halfway, reeling at the sight of your creamy white cum coating it ‘look at that. oh you’re such a good girl for creaming all over daddy’s dick’
you breathe a satisfied breath, feeling your cunt continue to clench involuntarily at his praise, his pace suddenly picking up.
‘squeeze around my dick just like that’ he grabs both your legs, holding them together by the ankle and turns your body so you’re laying on your side, your legs folded at your knees. your pussy is so tight in this position, and your ass looks extra fat. ‘fucking hot’ he praises, moaning as you squeeze so tight around him, over and over. he knows he’s about to blow.
‘cum on my ass, daddy’ it’s tradition at this point. seungcheol pulls out, perfectly positioning himself over your ass and frantically jerks off, the squelch of his strokes filling the room. he grabs a handful in his other hand, squeezing hard. ouch. that’s going to leave a mark.
‘cum for me’ you sing seductively, his breath catching in his throat. ‘cover me in your cum, daddy. i’m all yours to cum on. i’m only yours’ you remind, and that pushes him right over the edge as he cums with a loud long grunt, shooting his thick, warm, milky load all over your cheeks. and god, there’s so so much of it.
‘holy shit. how long have you been storing that?’ you scoop some up with your fingers, giving it a taste ‘mmm, yum’
honestly, seungcheol’s a little surprised by his load too, shaking his head and laughing softly as you review his cum. ‘wait, let me just get the, where is that thing?’
he picks up his crumpled overshirt, a balenciaga shirt mind you, off the floor and cleans the cum off you, then wipes his own dick down.
‘i can’t believe you still do that’
‘do what?’
‘use your expensive ass clothes to wipe cum like they’re disposable tissues or something’
he shrugs ‘they may as well be for me’
you roll your eyes at that, starting to remember reasons as to why he’s your ex again.
‘oh, by the way’ seungcheol rolls up the cum rag shirt before chucking it back onto the floor.
‘were you seriously trying to bring up an article on how to break up while i was sucking on your tits?’
you chuckle cutely ‘yeah, i was actually. but fuck that article, right?’
‘yeah’ he nods, pouting in agreement ‘fuck that article’ he breaks into a huge smile, looking at you fondly as you both crack up, and finds himself asking the question he always does after one these nights — why did you both break up again?
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toxicanonymity · 3 months
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it's hard (stepdad one shot)
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3k words, stepdad!joel x f!reader
“Can I tell ya somethin'?” He whispers. “What?” You ask. He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
SUMMARY: You're at their house xmas wk. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, angst, pining, fluff, possessive!joel, sneaking around, outercourse, unsafe p in v, mess of cum. reader can sit on him. Mood board is for mood. A/N: Title is an album by The Who.
It’s Christmas week, only a few days after your first time with Joel, and you’re staying at their house. You show up later than you said you would, and Joel has already asked where you are. The truth is, you're nervous. You’re not sure you want to have sex in their house, and you’re also not sure you can resist.  It’s too mortifying to think about getting caught. There are plenty of other places you can do it–your apartment, a motel, a car. You’re trying to be smart and slow down. 
When you show up, your mom’s car isn’t there. Joel is in the kitchen wearing his standard gray joggers, a tight white tee, and socks with coconuts on them. No shoes. He lights up when you walk in. "Hey," you mutter and he replies in kind as you close the door behind you. You survey the living room where there’s a pillow and blankets on the sofa, and you pity him for a moment.  
“Oh,” he goes over to the christmas tree and plugs in the multicolor lights. “Merry Christmas week.” You stand there with your bags, not really sure what you’re doing, or feeling. He approaches you cautiously. 
You look at each other for a few seconds until you're both comfortable that the other still feels the same way. 
“I'll take those,” Joel finally offers. As he takes the bag off your shoulder, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you,” he mumbles. His shirt rides up as he slings the bag over his shoulder and you follow him upstairs. He glances back and teases, “Caught ya lookin’.”
Once you make it to your bedroom you ask, “where's mom?” 
“Grabbin’ dinner. Guess we’ll eat when she's back.”  He puts the bags down on your bed and steps toward you. You don’t step away. He gently pulls you into a hug. You inhale his scent as his arms wrap around you. 
The embrace lingers, and you can't ignore the warmth of his mostly-soft package pressing against you. 
You begin to whisper, “I don't think we should. . .”  trailing off when you realize you're not sure where to draw the line. Every second in his arms, you're less and less sure. 
“Okay,” Joel murmurs. He kisses you on the cheek–slower, more tender than his initial greeting. “Whatever you want,” he adds. He presses his lips into your cheek again, and they linger for a moment before he drags them away. 
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, then pull away, cheeks burning as his arms reluctantly loosen and his hands slide down, skimming your sides as you step back. 
“I'm gonna unpack,” you mutter, glancing at your luggage, cheeks warm. 
“Yeah,” Joel scratches one side of his beard. “Okay.” 
One day at a time. Have some self-control. You pull yourself away. 
He nods, looks down, and turns around to leave. His back is sooo broad.  You want to reach out and run your hand over his muscles, but you know you wouldn't stop there.
You lock the door behind him and hope it isn't too offensive. As soon as he’s out, you exhale. You lay down on your bed.  You open your nightstand drawer and your heart flutters at a box with a bow on it, and your name in his handwriting. Under it, there's a new pack of batteries. 
You wonder if he's about to jerk off, but you don't wait to find out. You close your eyes and imagine him coming back through the door, unable to resist.
—------------- 
Your Mom comes home with Thai food and the three of you sit down to dinner together. Your mom makes small talk while Joel makes a mess of the pad thai trying to serve himself. Noodles are dragging behind, tethering the pile on his plate to the main container.  Your mom bristles at this in her peripheral vision. 
“So,” your Mom puts on her best interested face and asks you,“Swipe right on anyone lately?” 
Joel scoffs silently. 
“Not many,” you answer. Every time she talks to you, your heart races like you’re about to walk into a trap. This is your own doing, and you know it. 
“How many guys are on there, anyway?”
“A lot.” 
“Can I see?”
It doesn’t even occur to you to say no. 
You open tinder and slide your phone over. “Just swipe left.” 
Joel’s chewing slows down as he stares at the dating app open on your phone. Your stomach drops.
You hadn’t used it at all this week. You would’ve deleted it if you thought about it, but you’re so used to ignoring the notifications. You look at Joel apologetically as your Mom keeps swiping left.
Joel’s nostrils flare, and his breaths become faster. He swallows and doesn’t take another bite. He taps his chopsticks on his plate. 
“Oh,” your Mom addresses you. “You know who’s single?” She looks up from your phone. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at her with his brow furrowed. 
“Harold, down the street.”
“What the hell would she want with Harold?” Joel snaps. 
Your mom chuckles. “What’s wrong with Harold?” 
Her phone rings. Joel puts his chopsticks down and clasps his hands behind his chair to stretch his back. As soon as your Mom stands up from the table, he leans forward and takes your phone. 
“What’s this about?” he asks flatly.  It’s still open to tinder. His jaw clenches. He looks into your messages. At least he can see you haven’t sent any. 
“I forgot I even had it,” you explain. 
He goes to the home screen. “Good, you won’t mind.” He holds down the app and presses uninstall.
“What else ya got?” he starts scrolling your apps.
He goes on instagram and opens a picture of you in a mildly low cut dress. He deletes it and opens another picture. His breathing is still agitated. 
“Hey,” you reach for your phone. “What the hell?” You take it from his hand. “Are you gonna act even crazier now?” 
His brow furrows and he stares at the table, then meets your eyes and swallows. “I dunno.” His face softens as he looks at you.
Then he gets pensive and asks, “What do you think of Harold?” 
You roll your eyes. “I don’t think about Harold at all.” You pocket your phone and get up from the table. 
“Wait, where ya goin’?”
“Meeting a friend for coffee.”
He’s rubbing his beard like he’s trying not to say anything, but he blurts out, “What friend?”
“Emma. . . Jesus.” 
On your way out of the neighborhood, you pass Harold’s house. It feels like every time you drive by in the daylight, he's struggling to bring some kind of delivery inside - Amazon boxes, or even donuts and iced coffee. Tonight he's sitting at his kitchen table alone, wrapping a present.
—--
When you’re at the cafe with Emma, Joel texts you, Sorry.
It’s ok, you reply. 
It's a struggle not to tell Emma what's going on, but you don't. You tell her you’re seeing someone but don't want to jinx it by saying too much.
When you get home, he’s in the kitchen casually leaning with his butt and hands against the counter.  “How ‘bout some egg nog?” 
“No thanks,” you tell him, but you linger. 
“We good?” he asks, quieter. You nod as you take off your jacket, then put it in the coat closet. 
When you turn around, he’s right in your space. His eyes are red and his hair is messier than earlier, giving you a rush of desire.
“Sorry,” he repeats and reaches for your head.
You don’t pull away.
He cradles the back of your head as he hugs you loosely. You let your hands lightly skim his hips, then wrap around him. It would be a harmless hug in a different family. Until he pulls his head back, then rubs his nose against yours. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, nostrils filling with his aftershave. Then a toilet flushes in the background, and you break apart. 
“I’m going to read,” you mumble. His fingertips skim your ass as you walk away. 
—------------- 
You’re lying in bed later, still reading, when Joel sends you a snapchat. The notification makes you tingle, but when you open it, it’s not him. It’s the TV downstairs with the title card of Krampus. You get out of bed and pad over to your mom's room. You crack the door open, and she's passed out. 
You go downstairs.
Joel is lying on his side on the sofa. You and he are wearing the same pajamas you got for Christmas last year. The Christmas tree casts the room in a dim, cozy light. 
He welcomes you under his arm. Just a little cuddling, you lie to yourself.
Without much hesitation, you settle in as a small spoon so you're both facing the tv. He runs his hand up and down your side before dangling his arm over your waist.  The bulge in his pants is barely grazing you, until you push your ass back and he inhales sharply, then cups your breast, using his forearm across your torso to bring you closer. His nose nudges your neck and you can feel him inhaling your scent. His warm package nudges your ass. It's the first time you've felt him soft, like really felt him. It's still quite a bulge.
He's not soft for long. Soon he’s lightly grinding against you, hard and getting harder as the movie quietly plays. His hand leaves your breast, skimming down your soft pajama top to its bottom hem. His fingers creep under the shirt and when they hit your bare skin, the shock of arousal has you thinking very stupid thoughts. Like, maybe you should ride him on this couch, come what may. You stop his hand from going any further up your shirt. 
His arm relaxes in defeat. 
You gently take his hand out from under your shirt and bring it near your breast, where it was. Instead, he covers your hand with his and interlaces his fingers. His thumb brushes yours at a slow rhythm, and the butterflies in your chest nearly make you forget what you're trying to resist until his cock twitches against you.
He takes his hand back only for a moment to adjust himself, then his hand returns to yours. His arm wraps tighter over you. Against your back, his chest expands with each breath. The rhythmic stroke of his thumb lulls you half-asleep. 
“Can I tell ya somethin?” He whispers. 
“What?” You ask. 
He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches back to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
“I wanna do this every night,” he says. 
Your heart flutters. You turn on your side to face him. 
“I mean it,” his eyes are somber. He lays his hand on your side. He takes in a shaky breath. “I'm miserable without you.” 
“I'm right here.” 
He shakes his head. “I need all of you.” 
You look at each other for a few seconds in the light of the Christmas tree. There's not much to say. 
“Me too,” you whisper. His nose twitches and he shakes his head like you don't get it.
“What I’m tryin’ to say is. . .I’d ruin my life for you, if it wouldn't ruin yours, too.”
You read each other's eyes for a long moment.
“What life,” you whisper.
His eyes brighten. “That's how I feel.”  His gaze falls to your lips. “We’ll get a new one.” 
You want to kiss him, but don't want to end up naked. First you warn,  “I don't wanna take off any-”  
He cuts you off with his lips. They’re soft and needy. Then his hand runs down your side, over your ass, and his fingers dig into your flannel-clad thigh. You hike your knee up and wrap your leg around him. The hard shape in his pants presses right against your most sensitive place. “Mm,”  you moan softly into his mouth.
You’re throbbing for him. So turned on. His tongue slides against yours and he feeds on your mouth as he grinds against you. His dick is fat and hard and warm.
As you move against each other, pangs of pleasure dart to your nipples, your ass, your chest. He's so hard. Your body flutters on the edge of bliss but stays there. He grabs the plush of your ass, pulling you harder against him. You break the kiss with a gasp, and he latches onto your neck. 
With a push of his hips, he moans into your neck then whispers, “can't wait to be inside you again.” you throb and gush at the thought. He grinds against you a little harder, needier, but just as slow. “Fuck, you feel good.” He rolls over on his back, bringing you on top of him. Then he sits up and lifts your knees so your legs wrap around him and you hang onto his neck.
“God I wanna fuck you like this,” he whispers, holding you against him. His cock swells harder. You're throbbing madly. You card your fingers into his hair and he groans at your fingertips on his scalp. His strong arm holds you against him with his hips lifting under you. 
“Me too,” you whisper, your legs pulling yourself closer, harder. You groan softly. “Want you inside me—fuck, just like this.”
“Can ya feel it,” he asks, “ohhh–cause I still feel it–god–every time I close my eyes.” He moans as his stiff manhood twitches against you. Your clit pulses and you gasp. He covers your mouth with a kiss as you come. Everything else fades away. His lips break away with a shudder as he explodes against you through the soft flannel, pulsing hard. Your chest flutters at the feeling.
When you're both done, he lets you back onto the sofa, and resumes his position on his side. He pulls you back against him with a sigh. You're pleasantly surprised that you don't feel a bigger mess against your back.
“Shit,” he mutters after a minute.
“What?”
“‘s’not your problem.” 
“Say it.” You roll on your back to look at him.
His cheeks flush. “M’not empty.” 
Your heart skips a beat.
“Not your problem,” he repeats, but you’re already pulling down your waistband. Yeah, it’s. . .not a problem at all.
You turn on your side again, facing the tv. You reach back into his pants, and your breath hitches at the mess of cum enrobing his slowly softening dick.
“Do it,” you whisper, and tilt your hips for him.
He quickly notches his cum smeared dick at your entrance, no longer fully hard, but hard enough. He presses on your mound as he plunges into you, dividing your insides with a sigh. “Fuck,” he breathes. Your chest feels light as your body makes space for him. 
You close your eyes as he further stiffens, growing inside you, pressing against your walls. His hand slides up your top. He gropes your breast as he retreats, then bottoms out again. Within a few strokes, he’s as stiff as ever, and you’re as full as ever. 
He pauses, fully seated inside you, throbbing. He covers you both with a blanket. You're relieved there's another one beneath you. He breathes against your ear as his hand meanders under your top again. “Inside?” 
“Yeah,” You nod.  
“Where it should be,” he pants. He moans as he slowly fucks you.
“Want it all,” you beg, getting closer and closer with the tight drag of him within you.
He adjusts his position, sliding his arm under your neck so he can grope you with both hands, hugging you tight against him.
"'s'all I think about," he whispers. "Ungghhh---when I wake up---ohh--when I go to sleep."
He moans softly and his hands feel you greedily, "whenever you're ready."
“Fuck,” you whisper. He buries himself in you slow and deep. His breath is hot on your neck. You push back on him, swallowing every inch he’ll feed your drooling cunt. He buries his mouth and nose against your head. The Christmas lights are blurry in the corner of your eye.
“Feel so perfect,” he pants. He rubs your clit and you still his hand. He withdraws part way and pauses with his tip nudging just the right spot. He just barely rocks his hips, staying right there, rubbing over it, not letting up.
You gasp and tighten with tension, then sigh as you gush on him.
“Yeah,” he pants, presses your mound for leverage, and bottoms out as you choke his cock.
He sighs and begins to pulse with even more power than you remember. A huge burst of warmth, followed by a smaller twitch, another massive burst, a slow thrust. It keeps coming, and so do you. His breaths are heavy against you, his stomach flexing into your back as he empties his load. You're overflowing with cum. Your climax wanes, and he's still pulsing even once he's dry.
It finally stops, and he rests inside.
-
You catch your breath, and the smell of sex hangs so heavy in the air that dread bubbles in your chest. You pull yourself forward, letting his cock fall out.
“Shit,” you mutter at the mess between your legs. You pull your pants up. He squeezes your hip affectionately as you sit up.
He sits up on his elbow and tucks away his worn out cock. He takes a deep breath and searches your eyes.
You don't know what to say. You reach back to feel the blanket – soaked. “This is. . .we can’t do this again.”
He whispers your name, sits up and rests one hand on your back, one on your thigh. His chest is heaving like he's waking up from a nightmare. “What happened,” he whispers. “Talk to me.”
“Here. We can't do this here.”
He sighs and swallows. “Okay,” he whispers. “Sorry.”
“You know how to use the washer, right?”
“Yeah. I've got it. Of course.”
You take off your pajama bottoms.
“You okay ?” He asks.
You nod. You yearn to lay with him, but you’re also compelled to leave that room.
You read his face and the worry on it makes your heart hurt.
“It's okay,” you whisper, then kiss him good night. It's a long, soft kiss, and he doesn't want to let you go. “It’s okay, I promise,” you assure him.
You creep up the stairs pantsless. The air is cool on the cum between your thighs until more warmth trickles out.
You clean up in your bathroom and hear the washer turn on downstairs. You can't get his pitiful look out of your head. You send him a chat when you get back in bed: Good night ❤️.
Sweet dreams ❤️🤟, he replies.
—---
----
----
Thank you for reading!
PSA - The main story to stepdad is over, and I don't commit to another arc of them, but the AU is still open for one shots, asks, HCs, whatever I get inspired on. Basically I want it to be more casual without expectations.
There will be another post this month, because I already wrote the smut.
@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @nervousmumbling
1K notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 5 months
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please fall before i fall
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jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))
summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
winter falls masterlist.
a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski
One. 
Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 
“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 
“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 
“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 
He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 
That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 
“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”
“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 
He thinks he likes you a little. 
“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 
“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 
“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”
“I’m coming!”
An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 
He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 
He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 
Perhaps he likes you a lot. 
“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”
“You're best friends with said insane man.” 
“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 
Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.
“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 
“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 
“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.
“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”
“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.
“Well deserved,” you whisper. 
“I heard that.”
“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 
“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 
The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 
He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 
“Yeah, I probably will.”
He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 
Two.
Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 
Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 
“Remind me why we're doing this again?”
“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”
“Your sixteen years old brother?”
“Yes.”
“You are in college.”
“I know.”
“Why are you taking it to heart?” 
“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 
“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”
A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 
“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 
“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.
“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”
“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”
“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.
“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 
“You did not tell me you ever did that!”
“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”
“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.
“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”
“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.
“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.
The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.
“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.
“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.
“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.
“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.
He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 
He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.
“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 
It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 
Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 
He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 
Three.
"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”
“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 
“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 
“Um. I have a date tonight.”
“Oh.” 
His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.
Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.
“Should I go?”
“I mean… Why are you asking me?”
“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 
A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 
Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 
“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.
Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  
“Really?” 
“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”
“He's nice.”
“Mm.” 
Could you lose something you never had in the first place?
“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 
“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”
“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 
You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 
“That one's just for you.” 
Four. 
You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.
The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 
But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 
But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 
So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 
“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 
“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 
“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 
“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 
“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 
He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 
“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.
You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.
“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.
“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.
“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.
“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”
“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.
“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.
“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.
“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 
“I'm comforting you.” 
“You don't like hugs.” 
“It's different when it comes to you.”
You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.
“Where is your date?”
“I didn't go.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 
“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”
“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 
“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”
Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.
“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”
“You love me?”
“You're my favorite season.” 
“Don't steal my lines.”
“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 
Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?
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blughxreader · 1 year
Text
Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara
cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.
Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.
This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.
I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.
While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.
Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.
Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.
You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.
His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.
However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.
Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.
His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.
God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.
He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.
It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.
Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?
You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.
He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.
While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.
He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.
Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.
He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.
Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.
Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.
But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.
Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.
---
When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.
His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.
With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.
Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.
"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."
He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.
Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."
He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.
Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.
You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.
Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.
He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.
He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.
A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.
"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."
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rogueddie · 2 years
Text
"Something is really wrong with Steve," Robin says.
The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.
"What do you mean?" Dustin eventually speaks up. "Is he... ill?"
"No, no, it's... his parents came home, right?"
"Yeah, we know," Max snorts. "Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn't leave."
"He can't avoid them forever," Dustin points out. "I get that it's hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they're, like, paying for all his shit."
"No they aren't!" Robins voice cracks. "They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he's writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad."
"Why is that a bad thing?" El asks, eyes a little wide.
"He'd have to train for a few months in New York for one."
"New York?!" All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They're so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.
"What the hell is going on?" He snaps.
The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. "We are worried about Steve."
"What? Jeez, that's what you're yelling about?"
"He's moving away!" Mike snaps. "To New York! For months!"
Hopper frowns at him like he's not making sense. "New York?"
"To work with his dad," Robin adds. "I didn't know if I should talk him out-"
"They're back?" Hopper asks. He's gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. "How long?"
"A month? Maybe more, it-"
"And they're home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It's not one of his shifts, is it? That'd make it easier."
"What? No, he's home. Make what easier?"
Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. "Stay here, I won't be long."
He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She's too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.
Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.
"Where is he?" Hopper asks.
She steps back, letting him in. "In his room."
Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it's Hopper.
"Hop," Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. "Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?"
"Taking you home," Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. "Come on, pack up."
"I can't just-"
"Yes you can. Pack. Up."
Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn't take them long.
"I'll come back for the rest, if you want any of it," Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. "Wait in the car. I'll be a minute."
Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn't say goodbye.
"Right, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to come back for the rest of his things. I've seen that room, I'll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don't try to bullshit me." Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. "He's an adult now. You can't take him back and if I hear that either of you've been trying to harass him again, I'll press charges."
She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.
"Um... could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?" Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. "I, uh... I need to see Eddie."
Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn't be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.
"Thanks," Steve mumbles.
But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.
"Oh," Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. "Harrington, you doing alright?"
"No," Hopper answers for him. "Could we come in for a moment?"
"Sure?" Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. "Eddie's in his room, if you want me to get him?"
"You want your boy to see?" Hopper asks Steve.
Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, "he probably will anyway."
"Ok. Do you want him here for this?"
"Here for what?" Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," Steve tries to say. "It's... really, it's nothing."
"Steve," Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Hopper, it's fine, really."
"Where?"
Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.
He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There's a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.
"Steve," Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He's careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. "Oh, baby, who did this?"
"It's fine," Steve tries to insist.
Hopper clears his throat though. "Where else?"
Steve doesn't try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.
"Fuck," Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn't complain.
Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. "His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here."
"Don't worry about Steve," Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. "Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they'll be leaving in a body bag. I'm sick of assholes treating my kids like this."
Hopper looks over at Eddie, who's pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. "I'm getting the rest of his stuff, he's got no reason to go back there. It's my cabin he's coming home to."
"I'll drive him there myself," Wayne glances at the pair, who think they're being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. "Tomorrow."
Hopper chuckles, glancing towards the hall the two disappeared down. "Tomorrow."
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