#jonathan more x reader

[happy74827]

Shadow Knight

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: One thing to know about Joe, is that he’d do anything to protect you. Regardless if you want him to or not.

WC: 2776

Category: Hurt/Comfort [TW — Joe]

Finally wrote a Joe Goldberg fic. My friend begged me to write him so I did (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777). I really don’t know what else to say… so enjoy!

『••✎••』

You were his. That’s all Joe cared about in his head. He thought of you and only you.

He remembered that night after your first kiss. You had told him that you loved him. It was a warm summer night. It had been dark, but the stars were shining so brightly that the moonlight shone through the window. You had made him feel things.

It was such a new feeling.

It was scary but exhilarating. This wasn’t like Beck or Love. It was different. It was amazing.

He wanted you, and he was willing to do anything to keep you.

When he found out about your annoying pest of a neighbor, he had been a bit put off at first. How dare he come in and try to woo you from under his nose? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the short, small, wiry guy being able to compete with his stature. Joe clearly outranked him, and he wanted to make it known.

It started off as a little harmless fun, a way for him to see what this guy was capable of. A way for him to test your limits and then go even further.

Joe knew how to push the right buttons. And it wasn't long before he had him right where he wanted him.

Now, he would be able to protect you. You didn't have to worry about that scrawny little bastard hurting you anymore. Joe would take care of you. He was so good to you and would continue to be so. He was yours.

He would keep you safe from all the dangers that lurked in the world. He had found himself wanting to help you in that way, protect you, provide for you. He could feel it. He wanted you to depend on him, and he was eager for that moment to come.

For now, all he wanted to do was watch. He wanted to watch this short little guy attempt to steal his girl from under his nose. He wanted to watch the pathetic creature get on his knees and beg. He wanted to see you tell him to fuck off and then run back into his arms. He wanted to watch you beg him to take care of you.

“Oh, Joe,” you had whimpered against his lips. He held you closer, keeping you safe and close. Your arms snaked around his neck, holding him tight to you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hold you up.

He felt so big and strong against you. He always felt so strong and reliable. He always made you feel so safe and wanted. He always made you feel so loved. He always made you feel like you were the only woman on earth, and you always wanted to feel this way forever.

His mouth left yours and moved to your neck, kissing and sucking there. His hands groped your body, slipping under the thin material of your t-shirt. He continued to kiss and bite down your neck, feeling your pulse against his lips.

He was in heaven. He was living a dream. This beautiful, smart, funny woman was all his, and he could feel himself becoming overwhelmed with emotions.

He pulled back to look at your face. You had a serene expression, one that Joe often saw when he made you come undone. You were perfect. You were everything to him.

His hands cupped your cheeks, and he kissed you softly. You kissed him back, opening your mouth for him to taste you.

Joe loved this. He loved every minute of it. It wasn't just about sex for him anymore. It was about sharing his love with you. He had given you the most sacred part of himself, and you had given it right back.

He was so happy he thought he could burst.

Your front door suddenly flew open, and Joe dropped you on your couch as quickly as possible, making sure to fix his shirt in the process. He moved in front of you protectively and glared at the small figure standing in the doorway.

He glared down at the man. His lips were pressed in a tight line, and his jaw was clenched. He was so pissed, but he wasn't going to allow that bastard to see it.

“Jared? You do realize I didn’t give you those keys just to open my door whenever you want, right?” Your voice was stern and angry, causing Joe to smirk. He was so proud of you, of your ability to stand up for yourself. You tell him off.

Joe watched as Jared ran his fingers through his messy hair, looking nervous and flustered. He looked at you and then at Joe before glancing back at you. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but he closed it quickly.

He tried again but only ended up stuttering and not saying a word. His eyes were darting back and forth between Joe and you as if he were looking for a way to escape.

Joe watched as he looked like a fish out of water. He had never seen this guy speechless before, so he was enjoying every minute of this.

You seemed to have finally had enough, as well. You threw your hands up and sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Jared's awkwardness.

"Is there something you need, Jared? I’m really busy at the moment." Your words were sharp and short. Again, Joe smiled at how badass you were. It was hard to believe that a month ago, you were this nervous little thing. You couldn’t even say the word 'no,' and now, here you were, telling off this guy twice your size. You were just a ball of fire.

“I, uhm... I just... I wanted to see if you were okay after what happened earlier today. I was worried, I guess." Jared said. His voice was quiet and sounded so small. He sounded nervous and fidgety. Joe almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

He might’ve even felt sorry if he didn’t catch what he had said.

What happened… earlier?

Joe gave you a look, hoping you'd fill him in. You were his girlfriend, the person he cared about more than anything in this world, but you were keeping secrets? What was happening here?

You seemed to understand what he wanted and looked over at Jared before glancing back at him. Joe tilted his head slightly, silently asking you to tell him what was happening. You took a deep breath and looked at him with your big brown eyes before turning to look at Jared.

"I'm okay, Jared, thank you. But I am really busy, and I have a lot on my plate at the moment, so I can't really talk. Maybe later?" You smiled sweetly at him. "I'll give you a call?"

He seemed to relax a little at your words, smiling at you. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He turned to face Joe for a moment, just staring at him for a beat before turning back to you.

He sighed and seemed to deflate like a balloon losing air. "Okay, yeah. Just let me know if you need anything. I'll call you later, then. Have a good night." Jared gave you a quick wave before walking out the door and closing it behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Joe turned to look at you, waiting for an explanation.

"What happened today?" He couldn’t help but think of the worst, worrying that maybe you had met someone else. That Jared had hurt you or something.

Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head vigorously as if reading his mind. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. It was... uhm..." You took a deep breath, seeming to collect your thoughts. "It was just me."

You let out a nervous laugh, but Joe was still staring at you intently. "Okay, well, it was this thing." You hesitated for a moment, staring at him, and he nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. You took a deep breath and started explaining.

You went on to tell him about the charity event that you had attended. You told him how there was a guy that had been hitting on you. He sounded like a total creep to Joe, and he couldn't understand how you would let some rando put his hands on you. You had a boyfriend, for Christ's sake! How dare he?! Joe didn't know how he would've survived if he had seen you with another man. He would've beaten the shit out of that guy, but he would've also beat himself up for not being able to protect you from that.

He was your boyfriend. He was supposed to keep you safe and protected. It was his duty. He was going to protect you. He wanted to protect you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Joe asked, keeping his voice low and even. He was trying to be calm about this, but he was quite the opposite. He wanted to go and hunt this guy down and find out exactly what happened, where he touched you, what he said. He needed to know where this guy was, and he needed to make sure he wouldn’t be a problem for you. He would handle it. No one would touch his girl. He would keep you safe. He would kill for you if that's what it took. He would do anything for you.

You sighed and dropped your gaze from his, staring at your feet. You had the nerve to be embarrassed about it. That made him even angrier.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It was just a dumb charity thing; I'm sure it's happened to lots of people." You didn't even sound convincing to yourself, and the sight of your hunched-over figure was enough for Joe to lose it.

He took a deep breath and sighed loudly, feeling his anger building in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of exploding, but you were clueless about what he was feeling. You were trying to pretend like it was no big deal, and you didn't even realize what you had just done.

You were his. His to protect. He wasn't going to allow this guy to take that from him. He wasn't going to allow this guy to touch what's his.

Joe stood up from the couch and started pacing around the living room. You watched him curiously for a moment before following his movement. You stood up from the couch, ready to stop him from walking around, but he turned around suddenly, looking at you. He glared down at you for a moment, and you stopped in your tracks.

“Did you get his name?” His voice was dark and dangerous, like a predator that was ready to kill.

You hesitated for a moment as if you were debating with yourself. He watched your face as you thought, waiting for your answer. Your brows furrowed as you thought, and your bottom lip was between your teeth. You were worried about something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he wasn't going to like it.

You sighed and glanced up at him with those big doe eyes before glancing back down to your feet. You seemed to be looking at his shoes, counting the laces as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I did." You murmured.

"What is it?" His voice was a low growl.

"Joe, this doesn't-"

"What is his name?" Joe snapped, glaring down at you. He didn't mean to yell, but it was taking all his energy to hold back. You flinched at his tone, and he wanted to punch himself.

"I don't want you to get involved in this. I'm okay. I promise." You said. "I just want to forget it ever happened. Please, just let me take care of it." You sounded so defeated, and Joe wanted to reach out and hold you, but he knew he needed to hold himself back. He needed to keep himself from you for a moment. He wanted to get out of his own head before he did anything stupid.

"How?" His voice was cold, colder than he meant to let on.

"What?" You looked up at him, and he felt like he was looking into your soul. It was so beautiful and pure. You were so innocent and good, so sweet and soft. He never wanted to do anything to hurt you. He would protect you and keep you safe from all the bad things in the world. This guy included.

“How can you forget it happened?" He said, glaring at you. "What did he do? What did he say to you?" His voice was getting louder by the second, and you took a step back, flinching again. His stomach twisted as he saw your reaction, and he tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. "Did he touch you?"

You looked away from his face and sighed. Your gaze landed on your feet, and you seemed to be counting the laces in his shoes again.

"It doesn't matter what happened," you said.

"What did happen?" Joe asked again.

"Joe," you said, looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, "It really doesn't matter, okay? I don't want to talk about it."

"I need to know."

You rolled your eyes at that and threw your hands up. "Why? So you can go after him and make it worse?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew he had to tell you. " You’re scared. I don’t want you to be scared anymore. I want to help you."

He wanted to take away that fear. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted to be the only person you needed to protect yourself. He didn't want you to be afraid. He wanted you to be able to feel safe and loved.

"You can't protect me all the time. Sometimes I have to be able to stand up for myself and do this stuff, Joe." You sounded defeated, but Joe shook his head.

"You shouldn't have to."

"It was just one guy." You shrugged your shoulders. "I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to! Just… Please, just let me help you." His voice was pleading. He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic, but he needed to be the one to protect you.

You didn't say anything to that and looked back down to the floor. Joe's eyes followed you, staring at you for a moment. He noticed that you weren't moving anymore.

“Jim,” You murmured quietly, your head still bowed. It was so quiet that Joe wasn't sure he heard you right.

"What?"

"His name is Jim," you said, looking up at him with your big brown eyes. "Jim Haynes. I saw him in the building this morning when I was walking to my car. He lives in 1515."

He heard you. You told him.

You gave him what he wanted, and he couldn't help but smile. It was a wide smile, one that you saw often on Joe.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you in close to him. You squeaked as you were being moved across the room, and you held your breath as you realized where he was heading. You knew what was going to happen, and you couldn't help the rush of excitement and heat that filled you.

You watched his face as you moved, seeing his big brown eyes glued to yours. Your mouth went dry as you stared back into his dark eyes. You felt your pulse race as his gaze felt like a touch.

“Thank you for trusting me.” He whispered, his breath tickling your face. He was truly so happy to finally be given this information. It felt good knowing that he could help you. He could keep you safe from harm.

He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and soft. You could feel the emotions on his lips, feel how much he cared. You could feel how much he wanted you. He pressed his body against yours, wanting to feel you pressed against him.

Tonight, he would protect you. Tomorrow, he will make sure you stay protected. But right now, he was going to take care of you. He was going to be there for you.

He was going to take care of you, and then, he was going to take care of Jim Haynes.

[sovereignjojoz]

how they carry you/you them (ultimate edition)

Pairings: Jonathan x reader, dio…x reader?Joseph x reader, Ceaser x reader, jotaro x reader, polenarff x reader, Avdol x reader, josuke x reader, Rohan x reader.

Warnings: weird, partial fluff, partial crack, idk, dio?, tired at Rohan’s.

Notes - for all the love on the Bucci gang edition!<3

Jonathan Joestar

Gotta be Bridal style

The og gentleman

Very traditional

He just loves to carry you he would carry you always if he could.

He’ll probably spin you around too, he’s just so sweet!

Carrying him

I mean if you insist!

It’s quite unusual in Victorian society so he’s a bit befuddled.

But if it pleases you then go ahead!

Dio Brando…

He’s just gonna be a manhandler.

He’s not sweet or nice, none of that lovey dovey stuff he’s gonna do what he wants.

He’ll carry you, drag you, whatever, he fr doesn’t care.

Not very romantic.

Carries you however he wants even if it’s never been heard of.

Kinda possessive, he might squeeze you tight if others look at you.

Touchy.

Honestly bad overall, but you dio simps probably don’t care, that’s why you like him after all! (Affectionate)🥰

Carrying him

He expects this, don’t be daft.

And he’s not gonna make it easy.

He might even make u carry him on a throne, after all he’s dio and it’s what he deserves.🤷🏽‍♀️

Joseph Joestar

To put it simply, he’s a troll.

Every time he carries you, he’ll pick you up bridal style and secure you in his arms, and only once you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck or have gotten comfortable he’ll either a) pretend to drop you (if he’s feeling kinder) or b) actually drop you.

Then he’ll laugh rambunctiously.

“C’mon babe, ya fall for it every time and it gets funnier every t-“

“Jojo!”

“ ouch my ear! ‘m sorry!”

Seems like the kinda guy who likes to carry you whilst doing squats or other gym activities just to show off his strength, he especially loves it if it gets a ride out of you.

Overall annoying

Will not put you down.

Likes to make you squirm by carrying you with one arm and touching/tickling your feet like the weirdo he is.

Kinda touchy.

So so annoying.

Will definitely show off in front of Caeser

Carrying him

Never offer

He gets even more annoying.

As soon as you've picked him up, he'll make himself as heavy as he can and literally drop all his weight on you just so you struggle.

And he's so audacious and sassy.

He'll taunt you with comments like, "oh, is that struggling I see, huh? You insisted on carrying me so chop chop."

He even snaps his fingers at you.

Just drop him.

Caeser Zeppelli

Hm, ever the charmer isn’t he?

You just know he absolutely loves carrying his s/o.

It’s obvious knowledge that he has a notorious history of being a playboy, and because of his experience with women, he knows what women like, what little gestures make them blush, how they prefer to be held etc.

So he’s going to put the knowledge he’s accumulated on you, he wants to make you swoon.

He somehow manages to always gets the timing right too, he will literally sweep you off your feet like Prince Charming.

He’ll probably want to kiss you too and like pull you really close to his chest.

He definitely wants a s/o who gets easily flustered when he carries them! No matter if you cover your face, blush, squirm he doesn’t care, he wants that reaction!

“Caeser put me down!” You whisper-shouted, trying and failing to push him away, you were literally in front of Lisa Lisa!

He kissed your neck chastely, “why Cara? I quite like you in my arms.”

“Mpmph!”

Likes to show off in front of Joseph.

Carrying him

He’ll blush out of surprise.

It’s feels so foreign to him, he’s not quite sure if he likes it!

He’ll definitely be more vulnerable to getting flustered!

Overall, he prefers to do the flustering and carrying.

Kujo Jotaro

Listen, I’m not even going to lie, you’re probably going to have to jump/floor him to get him to carry you…

Or you’re going to have to annoy him 24/7 so he considers it, just so he can get you to finally shut up.

“Jojo, Jojo, Jojo, please! I really really love you jojo! And you would do the same if you love meee-!”

Literally knocks you off of your feet.

Might just leave you on the floor.

Or he’ll hold you for one second, the drop you (heart eyes).

Jump on his back and you’ll get a piggy back for like 5 seconds or something before he pushes you off.

Small bonus! Part 4 jotaro! (+ jolyne)

Becomes more open to carrying you.

Still would rather not but if you insist fine.

He’ll brashly pick you up, stand still and hold you bridal style.

Baby Jolyne will make grabby hands and he’ll pick her up with one hand and carry you and her both.

Carries both you and baby Jolyne like sacs of potatoes.

Will put baby Jolyne on his shoulders.

Carrying him

Don’t try it, he’s got good reflexes, you might get knocked out.

He’ll probably wobble around because he doesn’t get carried.

Hates it.

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

My babygirl.

He’s such a romantic.

He just wants to pamper you and spoil you by making you not have to do anything ever, including walking!

“Ma Cherie! Please, don’t dirty your beautiful shoes in that puddle, allow me.”

Loves the feel of you close to him.

Wants you to jump on him, in his arms, any place any time.

Lil bit touchy.

He’ll speak to you in French too even if you can’t understand it (especially if you can’t) just to make you swoon more.

Sometimes he’ll carry you and dance just because.

Just lifts you when he’s extremely happy.

Give him affection!

Carrying him

If you love it he loves it.

He doesn’t care he just wants you to be happy.

Surprised at your strength though!

And he becomes very blushy too.

Avdol

You gotta be practical with him.

He won’t refuse but he certainly won’t endorse it unless you both have privacy, he’s not a fan of pda unlike others on here (cough Caeser, Joseph and Polenarff).

He’ll carry you if you’re injured though, and he’ll be so tender, making sure not to hurt you.

In terms of carrying you, he prefers the more romantic side of things such as carrying you to bed.

Although if you want to be silly and like do challenges he may indulge you once or twice even though he may not be so fond of such things.

One thing is though you absolutely cannot get caught by Joseph! He wouldn’t be able to handle the teasing!

Carrying him

The first time you attempt it, he’ll definitely grip you tightly out of surprise.

“Oh my!”

The look of pure shock on his face is so cute.

He might ask you to put him down after a while though.

He may let you carry him once or twice more.

The best Jojo Higashkiata Josuke

Similar to Mista, he LOVES to carry you in any way he can.

Like he’ll tackle you in order to carry you, in fact a lot of the time him carrying you stems from you and him play fighting.

His favourite way to carry you is putting you on his shoulder and doing whatever he wants, like he might even put you on his shoulder then go about having a normal conversation with okuyasu???

I can’t get this out of my head but I envision running at you at max speed and just picking you up, putting you on his shoulder and continuing running.

And the reason varies like sometimes it’s valid like kira will be in the vicinity and other times it’s so random.

“Oh shi- [name]! We have to go we’re gonna be late to meet my mom at the dentists.”

Carrying him

Again you’ll probably struggle.

And he’ll laugh at you and tease you.

Maybe even take a picture.

This is the time for him to relax, y’know?

He’s shameless too, like he’ll call okuyasu whilst you struggle and be like “you got this babe, anyway…”

If Rohan ever sees this is just another reason on the list of why he doesn’t like Josuke.

Kishibe Rohan

No.

He doesn’t have time for such trivial things, he’s got to work on things such as his manga.

This is something that idiot Josuke would do, not him.

But then he remembers that you’re his s/o and this will make you really happy, so he sighs and closes his sketchbook and indulges you.

Keeps it short and sweet.

When he puts you down they’ll be a couple of lingering touches.

Throw your arms around his neck, and kiss him, and tell him how much you love him then he’ll indulge you more.

Carrying him

Absolutely not, will jump out of your hold immediately and scowl.

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Jonathan Ohnn/The Spot Headcanons

Okay, so when I write jonathan/spot I'm keeping it close to what we have seen and the general vibe from him but also how im interpreting him so here is what I headcanon dating him like and a bit of him in general!!

-

Jonathan Ohnn:

Jonathan Ohnn is awkward by default. While there are moments where’s confident, around you, he falls back to feeling young. All he wants to do is impress you, but when he stumbles and can’t find the right words to compliment you, he’s feeling warm all over himself. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, and he hardly ever stands to his full height. When working, he’s usually found hunched over, and it’s starting to translate whenever he does any errands. You always reprimand him, your hand on the curve of his back as you tell him to stand straight. He smiles apologetically and for the next few minutes will walk upright until he’s back to his usual position. You hardly have the heart to tell him to stand up straight up again, so you hold onto his arm, walking beside him. 

Most people would assume he is closed off and stoic, but he’s the opposite. He’s a rather emotional person. He’s able to hide it well for the most part. He isn’t afraid to let his emotions show when he’s feeling a certain type of way. He’s expressive, and it is usually the most prominent when he’s jealous. His face will twist into a scowl, and he’ll hold you close to him, hovering above you. When he speaks, it’s sharp and insulting to the other person- it’s probably one of the few times that you ever do get nervous because of him. He’s a smart man that won't do something that will get him into serious trouble, but he’s emotional and volatile. On the other side of the spectrum, he’s also one to look at you as if you painted the stars and the moon onto the sky, as if you’re holding the sky with your hands. He can never really hide his emotions from you- maybe it’s because the two of you are so intimate, but it’s like you can read him like an open book, like he wears his heart on his sleeve despite the walls that he tried to put up. 

It’s not all the time that the scientist is direct, but for the most part he is when he’s around you. He tells you things as if it’s the most common knowledge with no room for debate to be held with him. He’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and that he likes it when you laugh, that it sounds sweet. He’ll mention how he cares for you, terribly so, and while holding your hand in his, and he’s tracing over your knuckles, telling you that he hopes that he gets to have a long and happy life with you. When your hand tightens around his, he’s brought back to reality, and he’s clearing his throat, unsure of where to look. He can tell you how he never wants to part from you, how you look so pretty under the sun, but he can never tell you that if you just asked, he’d drop everything and run away with you, that he’d want to be with you, that you’re the only one for him, that no one else can compare.

If he had to choose a favorite activity, it’s just being next to you. He doesn’t need anything more. He finds himself thinking that he has to be with you, needing to be next to you, wanting to know that you also want the same as he does. He’s desperately into you, needing you like he needs air, like air is a second thought to him, that as long as he has you, that’s enough. In the beginning of the relationship, he’d hold you at night, letting his arm fall asleep under your weight, brushing his nose along your cheek, and pressing a kiss where he touched. A thought made itself known to him that he wouldn’t want to leave you, not willingly. In the late nights that you two shared, where you called his name and kissed his lips, he could only picture you with him in the future. He holds your hand in his when you’re asleep, and he presses his palm against yours, and he knows that to keep himself sane, he needs to be with you, that to deprived him of you would be torturous. He hopes that you feel the same.

Work is a bit of a distance for the both of you to have a shared lunch together. On top of that, he doesn’t want you around Alchemax. He’d much prefer it if you stayed as far away from it as possible. If you ask about his day, he always gives you the most vague answers. If he can prevent you from knowing what it is that he is working on, he will. Every answer that he tells you about what he’s working on is from old projects, articles that he’s read, stolen ideas from the other scientists. He never wants you to mix with his work- no matter how draining it is for him.

Arguments are far and few between, but when they do happen, they tend to be loud and upsetting for both parties. Words slip without meaning to, and seeing the other quiet and look away with tears in their eyes, makes the fight stop. Working late nights and having to worry about being caught or something going wrong when that cannot happen, makes him irritable. He grows frustrated and snaps easily, and the few hours that he does get to rest are not enough. He doesn’t mean to snap, and always one to defend yourself, an argument will break out. Sometimes a fight will be resolved after one of you walks away to cool down, sometimes it takes the whole day for either of you two to speak to each other, pride often getting in the way. However, he hates being upset with you. You’re something good in his life, and he hates it when you won’t kiss him goodnight. So he’ll swallow his pride and apologize to you with his arms wrapping around you, kissing the top of your head.

While he isn’t unattractive by any means, and his quirks have their own charms, it doesn’t stop him from being insecure in the relationship. Whenever the two of you are in public, he feels the need to hold your hand to show to others that you’re taken, and that he’s right there. He’s never been one to take control in a relationship, and most flickered out fairly quickly, so when you both last longer than any of the ones before, he gets a bit freaked out in wondering what’s keeping you around. At night, when you're sleeping beside him, he’ll sit in bed and stare at you, and wonder what it is that attracted you to him. It must have been something, but he doesn’t know what it is and if he only knew, then maybe he could keep at it- maybe he could keep you. 

Maybe because he doesn’t know what keeps you around, and he feels that at any minute, you’d leave, he resorts to buying you things. Nothing too lavish- nothing that would make you wonder where he was getting the money to pay for such ornate accessories. He will buy you small things- your favorite snack, a set of food containers that you held and remarked at how cute they were, or a mug decorated with your favorite character. It’s all enough, and it is never enough. He loves seeing your smile, and feels his chest swell in pride when you use any of the things he’s gotten you. Whatever it is that you want, he’ll get it for you, just to see you smile up at him. You always seem to return the favor even if he isn’t all that materialistic like you are. It’s little things that you gift him- a folder for his files, a mug that he only uses at home, a shirt that he’ll wear and keep even if the threads start to peek, a pen that he keeps clipped onto his coat. 

His lips will press against the corner of your lips or your hand when out in public, he isn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection unless he’s feeling particularly possessive. However, behind closed doors, he is a very affectionate person. He loves to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder whenever he gets the chance. He loves the warm feeling that you start in his chest. If he could, he’d find some way to bottle it forever. He likes to be near you, even if the two of you are doing your own thing and not speaking, knowing that he could glance over and see you, is more than enough. It’s silly and he’d never admit it to anyone- especially you- but he hates not having you near him when at work. He was never a fan of pictures, but if you’re in the frame, he’s lifting the camera to capture the both of you in a moment of stillness. He sets the picture as his phone background. During work hours, if he’s not messaging you, he’s looking at the background, enraptured by your smile.

Jonathan beams under your affection. Will smile softly when he lays his head in your lap and feels your hand begin to thread through his hair and scratch at his scalp. After a long day, he melts under your touch, humming when you twist a pinch of his hair around your finger. He’ll hide his face in the soft plush of your stomach, where you can see the corner of his lips stretched in a wide grin. When you kiss him, you sometimes pepper them all over his face, and he smiles, leaning in to try to kiss you. His face grows warm under your hands as you cup his face, with half-lidded eyes, he blinks at every kiss you press against his face. They’re feathery and soft. Every press of your lips against his face has him leaning into your touch. When you kiss at his moles, he feels himself smile, and hides himself into your palm, laughing when you coo at him to turn around. 

The Spot:

After transforming into The Spot, he’s much more clingy than he was previously. When you happen to be home, he’ll give you time to relax and decompress from your work. However, once enough time has passed by, he’ll sit beside you and stretch over you. He misses you terribly throughout the day- your text messages are a clear proof of that. Plus, it’s not as if you could blame him. He’s stuck at home all day with only you to talk to, he’s grown heavily dependent on you. 

The incident messed him up- it ruined so much of his life. Without you, he’d be without a purpose, without anyone being there to ground him through his panic attacks and depressive episodes. He needs to hear from you, needs to remember that you do still care for him no matter what he looks like. There’s always going to be a part of him that’s terrified of knowing what you think of him. He saw it on your face when he first came by- fear, shock, pity. He isn’t sure what was worse, but then you cried, and you held him. There are times where you’ll kiss at a white space, and he’s fisting his hand together to restrain himself from asking for more. He can’t be greedy- not when he looks the way that he does. 

If arguments were few and far in between before he turned out the way that he is, they rarely exist now. He never wants to give you a reason to kick him out. He’ll take a house husband role and clean and cook, and do whatever it is that needs to be done around the house. In the beginning, he acted more as a guest rather than a partner. He made himself small, didn’t eat too much of the food that you brought, he’d shower when you’d leave and would sleep on the couch. Fear kept him on a leash, and he believed that maybe if you didn’t see so much of him, then you wouldn’t leave him when the time came. Whatever it is that you would have asked him to do, he would do a damn good job to prove that he could still be of some use to you. A part of him kept waiting for you to leave him like everyone else had, and when you’d invite him to sleep in your bed, sit down and have dinner with you, shower with you- he was engulfed with waves of emotion. You really did want him to be part of your life, you didn’t want a house guest, you wanted a partner, you wanted him. 

You’ll leave your phone unattended, and he’s tempted to look through your messages, to find out what you really think of him. Are you planning to leave him? Are you talking to someone else? Are you making fun of him behind his back as he lays in your bed? He never looks through your phone. He can’t bear what the ugly truth of it might be. Out of all the possibilities, he’d rather take your word that you don't mind him as he is now. You’re the one who goes shopping for the necessities for obvious reasons, and each time you leave through the door, there’s always something heavy in him that tells him that you aren’t going to come back. He waits and waits, and time ticks on slowly as if to mock him, and he’s waiting and waiting. His spots swirl and congest at certain parts of him as his anxiety increases. After sending you a quick text message, you reply immediately- always. And yet, it still isn’t enough. He must annoy you, but he can’t help it. Pressing your contact button, he’ll call you, and he must sound panicked, because you speak quietly, telling him what you’re doing and asking what he’s doing- you ground him. When you come home, he hovers over you and lays his head on your chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

He never wants you to let go of him. He’ll rest his head on your lap, and even if you can’t play with his hair, you still let your nails scratch over him. It’s during these moments, that you let your hands wander, the pads of your fingertips ghosting over him, teasing at his holes, before swiping down and tracing patterns over the white. You like to look at his face hole a lot is what he’s noticed. You’ve told him that even without facial features, he’s still so expressive. His body has been stretched, limbs pulled and torso compressed and while he’s always been soft, it’s much more apparent now. He’ll squirm under your gaze, and make a high-pitched noise when your hand curves over his stomach. Placing kisses over him makes his gasp for breath, especially when you interlace your hand with his and kiss where his moles used to be. 

When he first arrived at your place, he was terrified of what you’d think of him. He’d never admit that he feared that you would be like everyone else and turn him away, but you didn’t. For as long as he’ll live, he’ll always try to repay you for your kindness. He can’t take you to dinners, or buy you things, but he can certainly peek into places afterhours. He can pop into places and grab something that he’s sure you’re going to like. For a while, he can lie and say that he had gfs saved up for you, but you start to catch on when reports of robberies start to have their own section in the local news. You give him a pointed look, and he looks the other way, fiddling with one of his holes.  

It took a minute for him to get used to your fascination with him. A part of him thought it was some kink thing but when you gasp in fake-offense and shove him, he comes to the conclusion that it isn’t some kink thing. His arm will be outstretched towards you, and you’ll rim the edge of the spot with your finger. If you ever want to dip your finger into one of his holes, he’d rather you tell him first. He doesn’t have complete control over where a hole will pop up and doesn’t know the exact limitations of it, so he worries that he’ll cause some freak accident with you there. When you two cuddle together, and you want something from the kitchen, he’ll make a hole and reach what you want. It doesn’t always go smoothly, but it’s the thought that counts. You’re sure at one point, you saw the inside of a convenience store, but with the plethora of snacks, you chose not to comment, and acted blissfully ignorant when an article of stolen goods popped up. 

Due to being lonely and having an immense amount of time to himself, he is much chattier than he was before. He’ll ramble and go on for hours about any of the series that he’s watching. At this point, it’s like you’ve already watched it yourself. He’ll talk about the symbolism and parallels that the characters share, about the use of color, and how things are in reference to another one of the director’s works. It’s nice to see him so animated about something. It’s during his ramblings that his holes will vary in size and numbers. The more emotional he is, the more that they appear, and sometimes, you’ll see one appear under a cup and drop it elsewhere. You’ve been lucky so far that the cups are empty and always land in something soft. 

It’s no surprise that he’d rather not step out into public. You’re the one to do the errands and he feels bad that he can’t pull his own weight, but you always reassure him that being there is enough- more than enough. At one point, work must have taken its toll, because you come in near tears, exhausted with the clients and co-workers. You mention how one customer was particularly awful, and he holds you, running his hand up and down your back, trying to comfort you. He can’t be seen out in public with you- he fears what will happen if people know where he’s been hiding out- but he can pop in on others, and make sure that you aren’t bothered again. It’s moments like these where he’s so focused, mind swirling and reflecting on his spots, and there’s precision and accuracy on where he wants spots to appear and reappear. He never wants you to find out about what he’s doing, so he makes sure that the person can’t recount the events and that when they’re found, it looks like they fell down the stairs, body crumpled and bent in ways that can’t be explained. The next day, he makes you breakfast. 

It’s not rare to find you in one of his old shirts. Jonathan hardly ever uses them as of late, despite your claims that he should wear something considering he’s just in his skin and practically naked. He never really listens to your claims-  it isn’t as if you haven’t seen him naked before, he’s even made himself decent by hiding his shaft. His old clothing might as well get some use, and it makes him feel warm that you still wear his things- it really cements the fact that you still want him. You pull the oversized button up over a plain shirt, and call it fashion, and who is he to argue with your obviously correct statements. There’s something nice about him waking up to you wearing one of his shirts as you cook breakfast, the soft blue color and white spots, making him linger at the doorway. In the time leading up to everything, he had never thought that his life would turn this way- die by an explosion seemed so much more plausible than him becoming what he is. And now, he sits in your shared home, his body pure white and dotted with black spots, and with you, your head on his lap and his nodding off to sleep as you both watch a movie.

[mafesti]

In sickness and in health, remember?

Pairing(s): John Price x GN! Reader

Summary: Your husband gets sick and he doesn't want to admit it. Luckily, you're there to help him, even though he's being stubborn about it.

Word Count: 5158

Warning(s): None, pure fluff

A/N: I'm sorry if it's bad or short, or anything else in the matter :( I'm still new to this fan fiction stuff (as in my first blown one-shot that I didn't abandon), and English isn't my first language too. But please enjoy! I'm sorry once again if there's potentially any other fanfics like this, I have no means to copy them. 🫶

⋆ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

You and your dear husband, John, have been married together for 4 years, and it has been a truly beautiful relationship for both of you. Although you have always noticed that John tends to get sick from time to time, especially when he's getting older (don't say that to him though, or he'll be terribly mad at you).

But this time was different.

You noticed that he was hiding something from you, most likely because he didn't want to worry you (even though you were already worried and soon-to-be developing a mild heart attack for him whenever he was out for deployment anyways).

You walked into your shared room, deciding not to knock, just this once. Noticing your presence, he looks up from his stack of never ending paperwork that was on his table.

"Love, what did I say to you about knocking?" He tried to answer you in his typical, gruff voice, but you knew him well enough to notice a hint of exhaustion behind those words.

His face was pale, and his breath seemed shallow. You could tell something was wrong.

"John, are you alright?" You ask with a frown on your face.

"No, I'm perfectly fine!" he said, refusing to admit anything. "I'm just a little tired, that's all," he added, hoping you'd let it go.

But you knew him too well even before marriage, and you knew something was seriously wrong with him.

"No, John, you look like you're about to pass out. You look sick since when? Yesterday? You're way beyond 'just tired," you argued back.

"I'm fine, really, it's nothing serious at all!" he tried to convince you, but you were having none of it.

"John, you're pale and sweating, and you've potentially got a fever. You're not 'fine."

He huffed a bit, but then admitted, "Alright, maybe I am a little under the weather, but it's really nothing serious. Just a small cold, nothing I can't deal with."

You let out a very desperate sigh (which shows your current condition with Price) while shaking your head. 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯. You thought to yourself. You got behind him and placed your hands on his shoulder, and he immediately got the memo of what you were going to do.

"Sweetheart, you really don't have to.." He sighed, but you ignored him. You began massaging his shoulders, pressing the knots out while chastising him.

"John, c'mon, let's not pretend this is a small cold." You chastised him gently.

He lets out a groan and gave in into the soothing feeling, dropping everything that he was doing earlier. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥. He thought with a small sigh leaving his lips.

"Okay, okay.. maybe you're right." He admitted. "But I'll just lie down for a bit and I'll be as good as new."

You knew it was for the best, even if he was being stubborn and tried to protest. You led him over to the bed, helping him lie down as he gave a few soft murmurs of thanks. You checked his temperature, which came up at 39-40 degrees celcius, a moderate grade fever.

"See," You showed him the thermometer.

"It's clear you're way beyond this 'small cold' you've been claiming," you scolded him with a satisfied look on your face after you've proved him wrong. He muttered something under his breath, but eventually conceded that he needed some rest.

You carefully drape the blanket over his chest, making sure to keep him warm and comfortable. You left him alone for a bit and came back with a bucket of water with a small towel in it. You then took the damp towel and gently placed it on his forehead, trying to lower his fever as much as possible.

"Now rest, and let me get some soup for you," you instructed him. He grumbled something yet again, but finally nodded and did as you said.

You did as you promised, returning to the kitchen shortly after to make a soup that would be sure to help his recovery. You also added some hot tea with honey and lemon juice, a classic remedy for whenever someone is sick.

You returned to the bedroom with the soup and tea on a tray. Seeing the tray full of supposedly filled medicine, John slowly sat up and leaned his back to the headboard, getting into a comfortable position. You made sure John kept drinking and eating it, and when he was done you put the tray on the nightstand beside the bed.

Slowly but surely, his fever dropped and his color returned. After a short while, he began to fall asleep from exhaustion.

You were just about to head out of the room, but John gently grabbed your wrist with the last ounce of strength he had left, mumbling a quiet "Stay."

Even though you knew he needed his rest, your heart melted at the way he held your wrist so gently. For a moment you hesitated, but if it meant him getting the rest he needed, you'll happily stay with him till' he gets better.

"I'll be right back, love," you whispered softly, giving his hand one last lingering squeeze.

You closed the curtain and turned off the lights, creating a comfortable and low-lit atmosphere. Then you gently climbed into bed with him, finding a cozy spot and wrapping a blanket around the two of you. You leaned close to him, nuzzling against his shoulder and pulling him into you, feeling his presence and feeling comfortable and safe.

Finally, you both closed your eyes and rested as you slowly fell asleep together.

[theweirdoinurhouse]

Comfort

Johnathon Ohnn x GN!reader

(I love long haired John with all my heart)

John had a long day. A long, hard day.

First, he woke up late due to his alarm failing. Then, he accidently spilled coffee on his lab coat. He over-heard some other scientists talking about him. And not in a good way. He accidently dropped all his files, and had to reorganize all of them. When he was getting ready to leave, his car wouldn't start for 10 minutes.

He came back home grumpy, tired, and wanting a nap. Just lay down on the couch and wallow in self pity. But that thought quickly went away as soon as he saw you on the couch. You haven't noticed him yet. You were too focased on the video you were watching on the TV.

He took the time to look at you. No matter how many times you'll reject it, he thinks you're absolutely amazing. You look stunning, you're so kind to him, you make the funniest jokes, everything about you makes him forget about his day. And you two haven't even talked to eachother yet.

You finally notice him when he steps closer to the couch, taking his coat and shoes off, putting his bag on the kitchen counter. He walks over to the couch and sits down beside you. He lean your head on his shoulder, and he can feel butterflies in his stomach.

"Hey hun, how was work?" You ask, pausing the video you were watching as you keep your head on John's shoulder. He let's out a deep sigh, leaning back against the couch. You follow suit, not wanting to loose the contact. He looks up at the ceiling. The nickname made him feel a little bit better. It always did.

"It was...fine, I guess." He said, having to think for a moment if he should be honest or not. You knew he was lying though. You always did. That's another reason why he loved you. He didn't have to specify anything about his day unless something good happened, and you would know how his day went with a few simple words and his tone.

He felt you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down. He ended up with his head in your lap. He could feel blood rush to his cheecks, ears, and even his neck. He turned to his side, facing the TV. He could feel you lightly tug his hair out of the bun he put it. He had to redo the bun multiple times during the day, due to frantically moving alot.

You thread your fingers through his hair, lightly stratching his scalp. It feels so nice. He let's out a sigh of satisfaction. He completely forgot about his day. All that matters is you right now.

With your free hand, you grab the remote and go over to Netflix. You end up finding a show the both of you have been watching. John relaxes in your lep, sinking down abit. He heard you let out a quiet laugh. He loves your laugh.

The two of you stay like that for awhile. John laying in your lap while you play with his hair. He enjoyed moments like these with you. When you both can relax and enjoy eachother's company. He loves you so much, he doesn't care what the two of you do. As long as you're there with him. And now is perfect.

And he wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

(Sorry that this was shorter than my last one-shot. Just wanted to write something fluffy.)

[l13]

How would Jonathan (before becoming the spot) feel like if his gf just kept slapping his ass, anytime, anywhere, because if it were me I would not be able to keep my hands to myself 🤭🤭

He's so bbg

this man would 100% whimper the first time you slapped his ass, he'd legit let out a "Mmf-" and you'd both freeze

"Did you just-"

"No, I didn't."

"You did-"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

if you actually make a habit of slapping his ass, he'd get used to it and also be flattered, like omg you like his ass enough to slap it? aww now he's hard for you, bend over.

if you slapped his ass in public, like at a grocery store or smth, he'd turn r e d, immediately whirling around to see if anyone witnessed this CRIME (no one saw, thankfully)

after some time though he'd join in the fun, and pinch your ass if he passed by you, and you were pleased to see that his ears still turned red even when he was the one doing it to you (he's scared of pda but faces his fears for you dw)

[kaylawritesfics]

can you write some headcanons where you're johnathans twin sister or something and your dating Steve?

Dating Steve Harrington and Being Jonathan’s Twin Sister

headcanons

summary: what it’s like to date steve “the hair” harrington while being a byers kid

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (byers!reader)

WARNINGS: mentions of canon typical violence, plot inconsistencies bc i have the memory of a goldfish

note: gonna try not to make this one as annoyingly long as my steve x henderson!reader but we will see !! this has no spoilers for stranger things 4 bc truthfully i don’t remember it enough to write the plot out

You and Steve definitely did not get off on the right foot at first. “King Steve” and his obnoxious friends relentlessly tormented your brother, going as far as breaking his camera.

Tommy H and Carol teased you sometimes, as well, but your friendship with Nancy Wheeler protected you from receiving the same torment that your brother received.

When you found out your younger brother, Will, had gone missing, you and Jonathan found comfort in each other, both of you recognizing the horrible and frankly, insane state your mother was in.

Steve had even (reluctantly) brought over a casserole, which he claimed was from his mother, but in reality, he and Nancy spent hours looking for recipes and had multiple trial casseroles waiting at home to be eaten.

After seeing how caring and sweet Steve really was, your feelings for him began to change. You really appreciated his help and support while things were going to hell in Hawkins.

After Will was finally home and things were relatively back to normal, you and Steve had even started a small friendship, much to your brother’s distaste. However, even Jonathan didn’t hold much of a grudge against Steve after they reconciled.

You were especially thankful the following year, when Steve had taken the party under his wing, protecting them when things started to go to hell again.

Around the same time, Steve and Nancy’s relationship came to an end. You noticed Jonathan and Nancy had been spending more time together as well.

While Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer, Steve became a support system for you. While Jonathan was seeking comfort from Nancy, you found yourself frequently wrapped in Steve’s arms.

Obviously, in a purely platonic way. Steve was a great friend, a fantastic friend, even.

These new relationships greatly confused you and Jonathan.

“What’s up with you and Nancy?” “What’s up with you and Steve?”

Even though the situation is a little confusing, Jonathan is the biggest Y/N and Steve supporter. No matter how many times you explain that your relationship with Steve is completely platonic, Jonathan still doesn’t believe it.

“Yeah, right. You don’t see the way you look at him.” “Jonathan, I swear to god”

Even Will joins in, teasing you about your “nonexistent” crush on Steve.

“I drew this picture for you. There’s you, me, and Jonathan, and then over here is Steveholdingyourhand” The words rushed out of his mouth and he held back a laugh as you grumbled but still took the drawing.

Steve loves coming over to your house. His house is so quiet and cold. He thinks your house feels more like a home. Even though it’s small and sometimes a little messy, he thinks it’s cozy and warm.

He also loves Joyce and Will. Joyce has this need to take care of any kid who walks into her house and Steve is absolutely at the top of the list. His mother isn’t like that at all so he definitely basks in the attention.

Will makes Steve wish he had a younger sibling. He tries to spend as much time as he can with Will. Next to Dustin, Will is the kid in the party that Steve is closest to. Will loves Steve and appreciates that Steve listens to him and lets him ramble on about DnD, his favorite TV shows, etc.

The next summer, Steve takes a job at the new Starcourt Mall. You like to visit him at work, coming to order ice cream at least 3 times a week. Sometimes, you take Will with you.

Robin bugs Steve about you for weeks, encouraging him to ask you out.

Of course, right when he finally builds up the courage, things start to get bad in Hawkins again.

You and Steve don’t reunite again until after the Battle of Starcourt. While the Scoops Troop were infiltrating secret Russian bases, you and the party were focused on whatever the hell was going on with Billy Hargrove.

You’re sitting outside the burning mall when Steve approaches you. Your mom, Will, and Jonathan are all okay and everything feels like it could relatively go back to normal.

You notice the cuts and bruises littering his face and the bags around his eyes. His hair is falling in front of his face and you tenderly push it back for him. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you in for a hug that lasts suspiciously longer than usual.

“I love you.” He spits out quickly before his adrenaline rush wears off. He’s frozen and it feels like it takes centuries for you to respond.

“I love you, too” He releases a breath, leaning down to kiss you softly.

A few feet away, Will nudges Jonathan, pointing to the scene in front of them. Jonathan groans, squinting his face up in disgust at the sight of his sister locking lips with Steve Harrington.

“You owe me $20.” “Yeah, yeah, I know” Will smiles proudly, glad that at least something good came out of this disaster.

Jonathan and Steve weirdly become pretty good friends after this. While Jonathan is still fiercely protective of his baby sister (who, in reality, is only 3 minutes younger than him) and would kick Steve’s ass for a second time if he had to, they find out that they actually have a lot in common.

Steve fits right in with your family. He’s very respectful and kind and they all love him so much.

[eddie-munsonn]

~King of ___ Kisses~

~The Stranger Things male teens (18+!) and their favorite place to kiss you.~

Argyle ~ King of nose kisses. He thinks your nose is adorable. The way you scrunch it when laughing makes him melt and you best believe he’s pecking your nose, although you sometimes pretend to be annoyed by this. He also does this when you fall asleep on his chest, or when you’re frustrated and he wants to help calm you down or comfort you. 

Billy ~ King of lip kisses. He’s a simple guy; he loves how soft your lips are. He always greets you by picking you up and kissing your lips in repeated and small pecks. He is soft, but only for you. Max won’t admit it, but she’s glad Billy has you. 

Eddie ~ King of neck kisses. And I don’t mean this suggestively (although that may be the case sometimes.) Kissing the crook of your neck he believes is sweet, intimate, and comforting. And you think just the same. You are his safe space, and you know this whenever you feel a small peck on your neck as he walks by or sits down next to you (or on top of you.) 

Jonathan ~ King of cheek kisses. He’s a little shy when showing you affection, but he loves kissing your cheek. He’s not afraid to do this in public around other’s, and he often does this when saying goodbye or greeting you. Joyce, El, and Will think it’s adorable.

Steve ~ King of forehead kisses. Before dating, he often did this to you as a “joke” but he really just loved being affectionate with you. To him, it’s comforting and he hopes it makes you feel safe and protected by him. All he wants is to keep you safe, and when meeting up after watergate, the first thing he did was kiss your forehead and hug you tightly to him.

[byersbootyshorts]

Can you like, oh god this is embarrasing, can you write a Johnathan x reader smut where he like cums in his pants while making out 😭😭 but like the reader finds it really hot, idk I'm desperate for a smut like this and I can't find one anywhere!

That's How Much I Missed You

Summary: You haven't seen Jonathan since he moved to California but now that you've come to visit him he can barely resist you.

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x gn!reader

Warnings: sub!Jonathan, dom!reader, kinda fluff at the start I guess, smut, just read the request.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Bruh, I really need to write more. I hate this but oh well. The request was amazing so sorry for the shitty writing.

Excitement pulsed through you as the large wheels of the plane finally touched down in California. You gave Mike a nudge and his eyes fluttered open. You barely knew the kid but his mom had asked you to keep a close eye on him while you were both visiting the Byers.

After going through baggage claim and all that boring airport stuff you couldn’t keep still. Mike walked beside you as you made your way through droves of people. But you were only looking for one person. One face.

Suddenly, Mike took off running, waving the bunch of flowers he’d so inconveniently carried all the way from Hawkins.

‘Mike, come back,’ you called. The last thing you needed was to lose Mike Wheeler in an airport.

But then you realised what Mike was running towards. Your face lit up as you followed his trail all the way to a row of chairs. Eleven and Will jumped up first when they saw Mike coming and Jonathan wasn’t far behind when he spotted you.

You ran into his arms and he enveloped you in a hug. You hadn’t seen each other in so long but being in his arms once more you instantly felt comfortable.

‘Oh my God, your hair,’ you laughed, pulling your hands through Jonathan’s now rather long hair.

‘Yeah, it’s a bit different,’ he smiled shyly, placing a kiss in your hair. ‘What do you think?’

You raised your brow. ‘I think I need to attack it with scissors.’

‘Dude, they really are as hot as you said they were.’ You turned at the sound of the voice. A guy with the longest hair you’d ever seen and a pretty interesting outfit stood before you.

Jonathan clocked your confused expression.

‘Uh, Y/N, this is my friend, Argyle,’ he introduced

‘Nice to meet you,’ you said, holding your hand out. But he didn’t take it. Instead, he pulled you into a suffocating hug.

‘Amazing to finally meet you too, Brochacho.’

Then he walked away, towards the rest of the kids.

Jonathan chuckled at your reaction to his unusual friend.

‘Sorry, he’s a bit eccentric,’ he whispered.

‘I like him,’ you giggled.

The ride to the Byers’ new house was slow and painful. You didn’t mind listening to Will, Mike and El catch up while you sat in the back of the bright yellow pizza truck with them. But you kept catching Jonathan’s eye in the mirror and praying the journey was almost over so you could finally be alone with him. The only trouble was, that might take a while.

You knew the plan; Jonathan had told you over the phone. You’d go to his house and say hi to Joyce. Then, you’d have to leave the kids to the skating rink. And it seemed as though Jonathan’s new friend Argyle might be tagging along too. Your leg bounced in impatience as you realised you may not get to be alone with Jonathan until later that evening.

Eventually, you arrived at the Byers’ new home. It was nice seeing Joyce again. You spent a brief amount of time at the house. Mike and you left your bags where you’d be sleeping and Joyce made you all a snack before you left.

The kids were piled into the pizza van again so the only people at the entrance to the house were you, Jonathan and Argyle. Joyce had gone to the kitchen to make some work calls.

You were about to head towards the van when Argyle stopped you.

‘Listen, bros, I know how much Jonathan’s been missing you and I feel that. That sucks. So, how about you let your good pal Argyle leave the kids to Rink-O-Mania and you two lovebirds can stay here and get your grind on.’

Both you and Jonathan went wide eyed.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, my dudes,’ Argyle said before turning on his heel. ‘See you later.’

As the delivery truck drove away you began to laugh.

‘Yeah, I really like that guy.’

Jonathan led you back into the house. Joyce looked up from the table but she was on a call so she mouthed something that looked like, ‘Aren’t you supposed to be with the kids?’

‘Argyle took them,’ Jonathan whispered back.

Joyce nodded, too engrossed in her business call to question it.

Jonathan tugged your shirt, impatiently pulling you towards the stairs. You took his hand and you both ran up to his room.

As soon as the door slammed shut Jonathan’s lips were on yours. All those late-night phone calls couldn’t make up for the feeling you got when his body was against yours. All those letters you sent could make up for the pretty noises he made when you pushed him against the wall.

You pulled him as close to you as you could, grinding your body against his. Jonathan clawed at your back in desperation. One of your hands made its way up Jonathan’s shirt and stroked his toned chest. The other found its way to his hair. You tugged it lightly, and you had to admit, the extra length added some more grip. The pulling caused Jonathan to whine breathily into your mouth.

‘Okay, maybe I can get used to the hair if it makes you do that,’ you said, finally parting your lips from his. Jonathan’s face reddened with embarrassment.

You pulled away from him, observing his room for the first time.

‘Well, it’s an improvement from your old one,’ you remarked, setting yourself on his bed and leaning back on your arms. Jonathan followed you, still craving more of you. He slowly climbed onto your knee and buried his face in your neck.

‘Wow, okay, I guess we’re not talking about what we got up to in the eight months we spent apart,’ you said sarcastically.

‘Later,’ Jonathan whispered. ‘I need you.’

A smirk crept onto your face. Pulling Jonathan’s hair again you brought his eyes up to meet yours.

‘What was that?’ you teased. He loved it when you played games with him.

‘I need you, please,’ he whined, tugging at your shirt.

You grabbed Jonathan’s arms and flipped him around so he was no longer on your lap. Now, he lay sprawled on his sheets with you straddling him. You were surprised to feel a bulge already present in his pants.

Jonathan stared up at you, his eyes filled with lust. You leaned down and connected your lips once more. This time both your hands travelled to his hair, tugging it just enough to pull more whimpers from Jonathan. He whispered swears when you parted for breath. You moved your body against his, making him twitch beneath you. The bulge in his pants only grew more restless the longer you spent on top of him.

Eventually, your lips made their way down to Jonathan’s jaw, sucking lightly on the skin. Now Jonathan’s mouth was no longer occupied his whispered moans morphed into loud whines. The sound excited you, causing you to move one of your hands from his hair to his pants. You rubbed his dick through the tight cloth.

‘F-fuck,’ Jonathan whimpered at the contact. His breathing became ragged. You brought your head back up to meet his eyes and smirked down at him. You’d missed the way he squirmed under you at the lightest touch. It reminded you that he was yours. And you wanted more. You wanted him practically writhing below you.

Then, you saw Jonathan’s eyes shift down quickly, taking a quick glance at the oversized shirt you wore before they flicked back up to meet your eyes. You knew what he wanted and you were going to give it to him.

You pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your chest. Jonathan swallowed deeply, taking a shaky breath. He clawed at his own shirt and you helped him take it off.

You leaned back down and kissed him again. The heat of his exposed skin powered the lust you felt for him. The moans that Jonathan let out in your mouth made you grind harder on his covered cock as your pants began to feel wet.

Suddenly, Jonathan went stiff. He stopped kissing you and you pulled away, your brows furrowed.

‘You okay?’ you asked.

Jonathan threw his head back and placed his hands over his face.

‘Shit,’ he groaned.

And then you felt it. A warmth beneath you, right where you sat on him. It coated his jeans, soaking them. You looked at Jonathan, your eyes wide. Moving his hands away from his face you began to giggle.

‘Holy shit, you really did miss me, huh?’ you laughed.

Jonathan shook his head, his face still red, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

‘You couldn’t even wait till you got your pants off.’

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘Oh, don’t be,’ you hesitated. ‘It was, uh, it was actually really hot.’

Then all the embarrassment washed out of Jonathan’s face and he began to laugh too. You collapsed on top of him and both of you erupted with laughter.

When you both calmed down Jonathan chuckled,

‘Now get off me so I can take my pants off.’

[weyirn]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about how the DC villains would react to their S/O is really random and would yell random things at them like how cute a deer is 🦌.

DC Villians x Male!Reader

DC Preferences: They React To You Being Random

-------------------------

Slade finds it a little funny and cute, and he likes how you're just being yourself. When you would just shout out random things, he finds it a little amusing, and just lets you ramble on about the things you see.

(Oof, Perfect match) He's just as random and unpredictable as you are, and he just thinks that you're just perfect. (Yes, you two would literally make plans just to surprise everyone and doom the earth lmao). When you would just comment on random things out of nowhere, he would also join in and literally comment on things he sees that interest him or just talk about what you just shouted out.

Joker would think it's amusing and interesting. He watches you, also listening to everything you say. Joker would chuckle whenever you would shout out random comments, finding it interesting how you notice every little thing.

Jonathan thinks it's amusing on how random you are and literally wonders how long you can keep this up (to him, at least). He listens to whatever random thing you say, not really minding it.

Bane finds it's interesting and tells you to use it to your advantage to identify anything suspicious, any threats, etc. He doesn't mind that you shout out random things (even if they don't help lol), as long as it's not during meetings.

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

"I am this close to worship the ground you walk on."

The endless list of possible characters in my mind that could say this is keeping me awake, LIKE!!!...They could say it angrily, desperately, seductively, or even humorously AND MY KNEES WOULD STILL SHAKE!!!

[lovewheeler]

RIDING JONATHAN PLEASE

ANON THANK U this is rly short but i just wanted to get brain juices out ok

i feel like. jonathan is a lazy lover, he really is, 'specially when he's high. he's all slow strokes and wet, open mouthed kisses that make you dizzy from how passionate they are. he's not very vocal?? more breathy sighs and low moans, lots of "fuuuck"s, and when you make him cum he lets out a really deep n throaty groan. heart eyes. he likes when you ride him cause he doesn't have to do a lot of work (hate him), and he likes that if he ever does want to do the work he can just grip your hips n fuck up into you. he likes massaging n squishing your thighs while you ride him, runs his hands up n down your sides and just likes looking up at you. when you're on top like that he's vocal but it's mainly praise, lots of "you're so beautiful" and "so pretty, all for me"; his voice gets all gruff n it's fucking hot. oh !!! tits. he loves sucking your tits while you're on top of him it drives him fucking crazy

[plush-rabbit]

Cookies and Cream

I saw someone on the jonathan ohnn x reader tag ask for angst and rejection and im kinda in a mood (when am i not tbh) so here’s a snippet!! 

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Realistically, i would like take a chance, but like also if my partner showed up with spots and no clothes, i’d be like oh:^) im about to make an important decision:^)

He’s a nerd- that’s a given with his profession and PhD, but he’s a dorky type of nerd that makes you smile. You like to think that you have a nice relationship with the doctor. He’s cute and awkward. He knows what you like and dislike.

You remember him buying you chocolate- the cookies and cream type- and knew that there was something going on when you don’t eat the candy. Explaining how you have such an aversion to spotted things always seemed silly when explaining to others- you always tripped over your words or never explained it properly- but he sat and listened. He nodded, and never brought you cookies and cream chocolate ever again.

Jonathan was considerate. He was a sweetheart, always so gentle and only really let his guard down when around you. 

It’s been days since the Super-Collider exploded and it’s been days since you heard from Jonathan. You tried not to fear the worst; you reasoned to yourself that if something had happened, something bad, you would have been notified. 

You’re in the middle of scouring various articles for any mention of the deceased or lost and his name doesn't pop up. Your mouth pulls into a thin line and you groan, throwing your head back in an attempt to let out your frustration.

“Any sign of him would work out just fine,” you mumble to yourself. You pull yourself back, an arm going across to rub at your shoulder. “I just-” tears prick at your eyes. You want him to be safe. Alive. Here with you. “Please,” you beg under your breath. You just want your partner with you. 

In the room, you hear a soft plop. When you look back at the room, there’s a person in a white suit standing in your living room. You scream, grabbing at the nearest object- the television remote- and chuck it at the intruder. They yelp in response, moving awkwardly to the side, throwing something dark at the object and the remote clashes beside you, batteries spilling out.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The person screams, hands covering their head. “I should have said something, but I only just came in.”

“Get the fuck out!” You reach for your phone, unsure if you’re going to call the police or throw it away. 

“Please don’t throw it at me.” He says your name with familiarity and disgust pools in your stomach. “I’m sorry- really, I am. I just- I don’t have your key with me and I thought knocking would’ve freaked you out more and I know I look different but-”

“Who the hell are you?” You hiss, holding the phone tight in your hand. 

“It’s me,” he says, as if that answer is anything useful. “It’s me, Jonathan,” he clarifies. After a moment where he’s positive you won’t throw anything, he pulls his arms down, and stands tall in your living room. All air escapes your lungs, and you hold whatever is left, unable to move as your phone slips from your hand and drops to the floor next to the remote. “Hi,” he says softly.

You wish you could run to him, but you’re rooted in place. With a good look, you aren’t sure what to make of him. His face is gone- hidden beneath white and a singular black spot that covers what should be his features. You can’t trust this to be your Jonathan.

“Prove it,” you mutter. You clear your throat, and stand straight, puffing out your chest. “Prove it,” you repeat with an ounce of force. Your hands curl into fists, and your heart races in your chest. “Take off the mask.”

The person in front of you laughs awkwardly, raising a hand to scratch at his neck. “I- I can’t do that.”

“I’m calling the cops,” you say, hoping that you’d be quick enough to grab your phone, unlock it, and call for the authorities. 

“No, no! I mean, uh- you like it when I kiss your hand. You kiss my palm and I press it against my lips, and when I kiss your hand you always kiss at the spot,” he says in a rush of words. “Sometimes eating strawberries is a struggle for you, so I make sure to cut them up. Um- uh,” he turns his head around as if the answers to his identity are painted on the walls. “You have this mole on you and I always kiss it when we-”

“Oh my gosh.” You interrupt him, and there’s a chill going through your body. “Jonathan?” He nods, taking a step forward. “What- What are you wearing?”

He freezes in his spot, and stands straight. “I’m not wearing anything. I- Something bad happened back at Alchemax. I mutated with a black hole and-” he lifts his arms up in a show of himself- “I’m this. It’s skin.” He pinches at a part of his arm and pulls, and it stays connected to him.

“Skin?” You hiss out, staring at him up and down. “What do you mean?”

“It was Spider-man. He- he did this and now I look like this- but-” he shakes his head and takes a step towards you- “I’m home. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to move in with me but uh-some things happened and-” he pauses when he notices you haven’t stopped staring at him. “I know I look different, but it’s me. You know me.” He says your name softly, and you can hear the smile in his voice even though there’s no mouth. When you don’t speak, he presses further. “Please. Please say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” You ask, and it comes out cold.

“Tell me that you’re happy to see me,” he offers. When you don’t make a sound, he gives another option. “Ask if I’m okay.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you were happy to see him. You think you are. You should be. You wanted to see him just moments ago. You should have specified that you wanted to see your partner as your partner and not some mutated person. 

Taking another glance, your stomach drops at all the spots- all the holes that cover his body. You should be happy. You should be holding him and asking if he’s okay. You should be thanking the stars that he’s in front of you. But you can’t. And you won’t. Not when the sight of him makes you nauseous. 

You can’t look at him. It’s too many spots- too many holes. You think you’re going to be sick. You remember telling him how you hated spots- trypophobia is what he told you it was. You couldn’t eat cookies and cream flavored anything because of the spots, on bad days, strawberries made you sick. He knew that. He knows that. He’s the one who was always so careful to not give you so many punctured items. But he’s here now and you hate it. 

Guilt eats at you. It makes you nauseous, and scared. You wish you could look at him. He croaks out your name, and even without a face, you can tell that he’s crying. Your teeth are clenched, molars pressing into each other, and when you peek, you turn away again. No. You can’t look at him. Not when he’s like this. Not when he’s not Jonathan. 

“Please,” he croaks. You hate how your name sounds on his tongue. It’s pathetic and sniveling, and you can’t help but swallow the bile that burns your throat. “It’s still me. It’s still your Jonathan. I- I know I look different, but I- I’m sorry.”

“Jonathan,” you say, spit laying heavy on your tongue, “looking different is like a scar or bleaching your hair. You-” you gesture to him- “don’t even look-” human. He doesn’t look human, but even as you’re close to being sick, you can’t tell him that. That would be going too far. “You don’t even have eyes.”

With his long legs- too long to ever have been human- he takes quick strides towards you. His stomach touches the edge of the couch, and you see the spots swirl, contracting in size, and erratic as he speaks. 

You’re going to have to wash the couch- somehow.

“I can still see!” You shut your eyes tight when he speaks. “I- I don’t have anyone else.” His voice quivers. Closing your eyes was a mistake- it still sounds like him. It is him, but it isn’t. “I thought you- you wanted to move in with me.” The sentence breaks your heart. His voice makes you want to hold him like you did nights ago.

The air is cold and it makes your skin rise with goosebumps. You wonder for a moment if his skin does the same, but the mental image of it makes you regret even thinking about it- about him. Your lungs fill with air, and you have to brace yourself to look at him.

Looking at him is so much worse than you could have imagined. The spot in the middle of his face is deflated near the top, and he’s sad. Him expressing emotions with a spot makes everything so much worse. The dark of it spirals, the edges of it fading into a small cluster of spots that reminds you of poorly mixed cookies and cream. It takes all of you to look at him. 

“I wanted to move in when you-” when he looked human- “when you had a job. When you - where even if you lost the job, you could- I don’t know, find another one.” You’re shallow. You wish you weren’t. You wish it were another poor soul that got infected with spots.

“Please,” his voice is fragile, tense and heavy, and his hands rise, and they’re loosely wrapped around your own, until you pull back, scrambling to get away. 

“Don’t!” You hold your hands in a clawed pose, shaking until they form into fists. “Don’t,” you whisper out, pulling your arms closer to your body and further away from him.

His body is shaking, shoulders rising and falling, and there are these broken gasps of air coming from him. He’s calling your name, pleading for you to accept his apologies. He feels bad about touching you, and you can’t help but want to wash your skin until it burns. 

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Please-” your name sounds broken when he speaks it out loud- “I promise I’ll find a way to reverse this. We can figure it out. You- You said that you would take care of me when I was sick.” 

“Sick, Jonathan,” you spit out, unable to stop yourself from glaring at the man across from you. “Like the cold or something serious like a broken bone or fucking radiation poisoning. Fuck!” You look away from him, and catch his reflection in a piece of furniture. It’s warped and unsightly. “It was shit like that Jonathan.” Tears pool in your eyes- burning and overflowing, and your face scorches under all your emotions. “Not this. Not when you don’t look-” you have to say it, it’s lodged in your throat, and it’ll stay stuck there until you get rid of it now- “human.” You’re the absolute worst- you’re sure of it. 

Your name is called once more. You hiccup and keep your gaze away from him. “It’s still me,” he says in a low voice, hurt interlaced into every letter. “We can- I know that this is new and it’ll take some getting used to, but we can make it work.” You stay silent, biting on the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from crying. “I wouldn’t leave you if the situations were reversed.” You flinch, and you hate that you know he’s speaking the truth. He wouldn’t leave you. Not when you needed him the most. You wish the building would crumble and you’d be crushed by stone and pipes. “I won’t bring this up ever again. We can figure it out, and I’ll never hold this against you. I promise. We can start fresh.” He so desperately clings to the relationship, and you both know that if you were to move forward, you could never forget this conversation. He could never forget how you were so quick to abandon him. “I promise.”

It’s selfish. You do this for yourself. You want to live a life that doesn’t involve hiding a man who is longer human. “I want to go out on dates. I want to watch a movie.” You turn to him, and the tears burn themselves into your skin. “I want my friends to see you.” You shake your head and take a step back, furthering yourself from the man before you. “I can’t do this, Jonathan.”

He shakes his head, and you wish that you cared for him the way that he cared for you. “We can do that. I can do that.” He takes a step forward, and you take another step back. “I- I can wear clothes and hide myself and we can go out.” The spots on his body swirl, expanding and moving across his body. They break apart at the edges, scattering smaller spots across him, and it makes the acid in your stomach fill your mouth. “Don’t do this,” he pleads. “Please.” He’s crying, and you hate that you can’t bring yourself to comfort him. 

“I can’t see you anymore, Jonathan.” You turn yourself away from him. “I mean it. I can’t-” you wave a hand towards his direction- “I need you to leave Jonathan.”

“You can’t be serious.” You don’t answer, and that in itself is an answer. “I- I thought you would still want me.” You flinch at the words. You thought the same too. “Please don’t do this. I promise, you won’t see my holes. You can cover me and I’ll- I’ll hide and-”

“Jonathan,” you say curtly. “I need you to go.” You refuse to look at him. “Please, Jonathan. Just- Just get out.” Even in your worst of fights with him, you had never kicked him out, and now when he needs you the most, you kick him out. You wish that someone would put you out of your misery.

There’s a pause in the room, and you can hear his ragged breathing. “I thought you loved me.” You refuse to answer. “I love you.” You grit your teeth and shut your eyes until organic shapes in different colors swirl behind your eyelids. The confession makes you bite your tongue. 

It’s silent for a long time, and when you open your eyes, you’re alone in your home. The only evidence that gave away that something bad happened was the television remote and your phone that lay on the floor. A sob cracks through your chest, and you smother it with your hand, forcing yourself not to cry. Not now. Not when it was you that demanded the break-up. You wanted him, but not when he was this- when he was that. You wanted your Jonathan.

[acapelladitty]

The way you write Jon is extremely interesting to me because no one else (that I’ve seen at least) writes him so clinical but also at the same time so insanely horny? I love it. (Seriously, there are some parts of WDO that have done irreversible damage to my brain.)

So, I wanted to pick your brain a little about him by requesting something from his POV.

I feel as though he must have some kind of secret kink he wouldn’t even let WG know of because he fears she’ll think he’s weird or sick, (as if he didn’t spend 99.9% of their time doing the most disgusting things to her) but it’s probably something really tame, and he’s just buggin about how to bring it up. Dealers choice on what the kink is. (Although personally I’ve always imagined him somehow, ashamedly, being really into period sex.)

Also, “mediocre writer”? get that shit out of your bio right now, you’re a goddamned legend.

Your sweet words can't get me because I can't overcome my self-confidence issues!

In terms of period sex, i don't think he really minds and it absolutely would not put him off. And I can HAPPILY chat about some of kinks that Crane may have which he is ashamed of/reluctant to share with others.

1) Just once, Crane would love to have a true experience of somnophilia. Ideally with WG fully passed out/unresponsive so he can test her reactions to "stimuli 😈" while she's in that state to see how it compares to what he is familiar with. The only reason he hasn't broached it is because it requires more trust that he's willing to admit to and he's also very content with her conscious reactions.

2) Similarly to the above, true CNC play is something he'd like to experience more. I have touched on this once in a oneshot but both parties are interested in seeing it pushed further. However, neither of them are willing to broach the subject because of how the other might react.

3) Objectification is another kink Crane is vaguely interested in but isn't too sure how to go about it. He likes the idea of having WG restrained or held in some way which allows him free access to her while reducing her to little more than a tool for his pleasure.

4) In his deepest and darkest subconscious, Crane would love to be taken care of. To have someone fawn over him and treat him softly. Something in the vein of a mommy kink but without the mommy aspect. This is a kink which he will NEVER acknowledge because he denies that part of himself and cannot show that level of vulnerability while he lives and breathes.

[stevenose]

steve…fucking ur ass…and him whining and whimpering cz ur so tight[GUNSHOTS]

he’d lose himself SO HARD SO FAST. he would probably be able to pump his cock into you twice before he spills. he’d have to work on his stamina… poor guy :( the thought of slipping into you and cumming inside, watching it drip out of you… can you blame him for being a two pump chump!

[kunikss]

all fanfiction of every single character i ever like is smut and ON TOP OF THAT 99% of it is noncon😭😭 what is this curse