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freaksun · 2 months

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eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt told anyone about her. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

#my fics #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #my fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie my love <3 #my writing

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veritasangel · 2 months

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Taking care of you when you're sick

ft. Dabi, Bakugo, Deku, Shoto, Kirishima, Shinso

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov (kids could be adopted in shoto's) ୨୧˚ warnings: all sfw except bakugo's

wc: 1.4k

fwb - Katsuki Bakugo

What you and Bakugo had was nothing serious, just casual sex and nothing more as he always said.

He was always too busy with work for anything more.

And so there was really no need for him to come over when you were sick, right?

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice hoarse as you open the door to see Bakugo casually walking in, hands full with heavy bags.

“Well you sounded like shit over the phone so thought I’d bring some things over to help.” he says as he begins unloading the bags, the inside contents varying from fruit, soup, medicine, and other useful things to random items that you don't even need, like those unnecessary curly straws.

“Uhh, thanks?” you question, “I’m not fucking you, you know?”

“Damn straight you’re not, I ain’t sleeping with someone who’s coughing their guts up. I’m not into that.” he blurts out, as he finishes emptying the bags.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness as he guides you to the sofa and begins setting up everything you might need on the coffee table.

“I got the day off work tomorrow so I’m gonna stay over tonight, you know just to make sure you don’t die or anything.”

“How nice.” you joke as you smile at him, “So you do care about me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” he mumbles, pulling you onto his lap and flicking through the shitty tv shows that he always mocks you for watching.

ex bf - Eijiro Kirishima

You two had broken up but also kinda not really, you still talk almost all of the time and occasionally end up in each other’s beds.

So it’s no wonder he’s the first over to look after you when he hears you’re sick, the two of you were basically still together without the title.

He's annoying but you love him.

“Pass the remote, this movie’s shit.” Kirishima says from where he’s leaning back on one end of the sofa.

“Get it yourself, I’m sick.” you groan, rolling over to your side.

“Oh yeah, right." he remembers, lifting his head to look at you, before sitting up to grab the remote and passing you a snack from the table, “You look cute like this, you know?”

“I look like a mess.”

“A cute mess.” he says, “my cute mess.”

“I'm not your anything, we broke up 3 months ago.” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“2 and a half.”

You turn your attention back to the TV, “Do the specifics really matter?”

“Alright sorry we can go with your rounded up 3 months then.” he says raising his hands in mock surrender, “My smoothie must've been good because your voice sounds better, you sound less like you smoke 30 a day.”

“You’re so charming.” you scoff but the affection in your tone is still there

“I love you too, my little snotty mess.” he teases before laying on top of you enough to almost crush you.

older bf - Dabi

Always feels uncomfortable when someone’s sick, like he doesn’t know what to do

Tries his best though because he wants to take care of you the way you do, him.

Usually ends up looking up what to do on google and then does everything and anything he sees.

“Touya what is all this?” you mumble as you open your eyes from your nap.

“Well I looked up all of your symptoms, a bunch of possible things came up, there might be a 50% chance you’re dying.”

“How reassuring.” you joke, a knowing smile on your face.

He rolls his eyes, “Well it’s probably just a bug but gotta' cover all bases, you know?” he says “Apparently ginger is good for nausea so there's ginger tea on the side, and some ginger biscuits, a carrot and ginger soup and then also some ginger shot thing, I don’t know but I think that’s good.” He rambles on as he runs you through everything.

“Now that you’ve rested, if you just eat and keep hydrated, then I’ll run you a bath and you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Well I don’t need all of that, but I appreciate the consideration. You didn’t have to buy all this for me though.”

“Oh I didn’t, I used your card.”

And you just laugh as you reach for a biscuit because of course he did.

best friend - Hitoshi Shinso

Less vocal about his care but it’s there, you know it is.

Offers to do anything you need. Planned to buy groceries? He’s already out of the door to get them. Wanted to clean the house? He’s practically turned into a personal maid.

Will use his quirk to keep you in bed if he has to.

“You said you wouldn’t use you quirk on me again.” you sigh as you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I said I wouldn’t use it on you for no reason.” he adds in as he opens the windows in your bedroom. “Would you like some water?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“You already did.” he grins as you chuck your pillow at him, “Kidding, kidding, I don’t plan on using it again, as long as you do as you’re told and stay in bed.”

"Fine, fine." you give up. "Maybe I should get sick more often if it has you waiting on me hand and foot."

He smirks, handing you the pillow back, "I'd do that even when you're not sick, you know, if you actually let me, instead of acting all independent 25/8." he shakes his head, looking down at you.

coworker - Izuku Midoriya

The two of you are both pro heroes that regularly work together and when he overhears one of his favourite heroes is sick? He’s straight there

He’s very caring and selfless of course

He's responsible enough to make sure everything is stable before he up and leaves his duties.

Asks how you’re feeling about 20 times a minute because his mind is racing.

“Izuku, what are you-”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well. Have you been sleeping? Did you get injured-” he begins listing off a million different things that could be wrong.

“Chill, it’s just a small cold, no big deal.” you reassure him.

“Well still…you work yourself too hard and it’s having an effect on your immune system.” he says disappointedly, “You can’t be a hero if you don’t take care of yourself, you’re as bad as kacchan, if not worse.” he shakes his head

He’s immediately making himself at home in your kitchen, preparing a soup and when you tell him there’s canned soup in the cupboard, he scoffs, “I’m making a vegetable soup that my Mum used to make for me when I was sick, it’ll do you much better."

"It's okay I-"

"No, buts. Go and relax on the sofa or have a refreshing shower. I'll bring it to you when it's done. Can't have one of my best suffering, can I?" he says as your eyes meet his and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

husband- Shoto Todoroki

So tender and caring when you’re sick

He knows exactly how to take care of you and honestly probably knew you were getting sick before you did.

Has Fuyumi look after the kids so he can focus fully on you.

“No don’t worry, I have everything covered. Kids are gonna stay with Fuyumi for a few days and she’ll make sure they’re all sorted." He says, tenderly rubbing small circles on your hand.

"Touya offered to take them in but I don’t trust our little girls not to come back with some dodgy hairstyle with spray-in hair colour.” He jokes, earning you a small laugh.

"Good choice." you smile as he checks your temperature again.

"Since the medicine, your fever's going down slowly. Do you want another peppermint tea?" He says softly as he looks over your face with concern.

"No, just want cuddles." you mumble and of course he obliges. He's instantly under the duvet, pulling you in close to him as he wraps both arms securely around you.

"You're not worried about getting sick?"

"Nothing will ever keep me away from you, much less a small bug." he tuts as if it's obvious, kissing the top of your head.

༄ m.list

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kombuuuu · 1 year

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NEEDD someone to write more about simp!miles and how he finally asks reader out. I love him w the trope friends to lovers i definitely feel like he would try to ask his s/o out and fail to so many times😭😭

Jitters.

Simp!Miles Morales x Gn!Reader

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

THIS WAS LIKE FIVE MINUTES ADTER MY CALL FOR POST LMFAOOO OKAY BBY I GOT U ‼️

2 + 1 Trope? Got that DOWN baby.

—

The first time Miles had ever met you, it had been the most bland, unimportant, nothing-burger of a day he’d ever been privy to living.

The weight of his classmates gazes settled uncomfortably, but familiarly, onto his back. The whispers they shared with one another having him strain to hear over the beating of his own finicky heart.

A boring, low effort slide show casted on a lazily erased white board was barely keeping him from falling asleep.

And yet his foot wouldn’t stop tapping, the nerves alighting something within him like sparks near a gas leak. The way his heart was beating wasn’t just from the whispers flown around he knows weren’t about him. (He couldn’t help it, what if they are?)

There was something else, like an anticipation boiling his blood vessels. Spidey-sense through the roof and heart rate accelerating.

He stanced his feet, twisting them slowly to shoot out of his seat when ready, as if a crazed, murderous version of him was going to burst the the door at any moments notice.

The handle twisted, his vision honed in, ears sharp-tuned to every movement the muse terry figure made.

And as the door swung open, the breath he was holding left him. Exasperation and amazement at the person in front of him, the harmless, beauty of a person.

“Ah. Mx.[Last Name], Pleasure of you to join us,” His Teacher snarked, adding a hasty ‘finally’ to the end under his breath.

Miles shot the man a dirty look before focusing back onto you, as seemingly everyone had.

You caught people’s attention from the get-go, aura leaking something trusting, something good. Like out of everyone in the world he could talk to, he knows you’d listen in earnest.

You made eye contact with him, your eyes glistening against the light of the projector, he almost sighed.

You looked away again, addressing your Teacher. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t exactly know where to go.” You politely laughed it off, disrespect to authority wasn’t exactly something you wanted on your track record the moment you got to this place.

“It’s—“ He dragged a hand down his face whilst you shuffled in your spot. “It’s fine. Just go sit next to uh.-“

Miles say up a little straighter, a silent competition with the other people in his class crawling for your attention.

“Miles. Morales raise your hand.”

He felt almost smug as he did Small huffs of disappointment coming from his undeserving peers. You smiled at him, waltzing over with a confidence he could only dream, and sat in the chair beside him. He watched you unpack your stuff as the professor drawled on, and when you caught his watchful eye, you waved.

He blushed. The whispers definitely weren’t about him now.

—

One.

You were putting you books in your locker when a small tap was placed upon your shoulder.

Catching your attention, you stuffed the remaining books inside carelessly and turned to face the subject of curiosity.

The boy you had sat next to your first date stood shuffling foot to foot before you. Nervously scratching his neck and kicking his Jordans.

“Hey I- Uhh.” He coughed, scared his voice would crack in front of you, he almost cringed at the thought. “I’m Miles-“

“Morales. I remember you.” You smiled sweetly up at him, you did remember him. It was no lie, he was kind of hard to forget. “Oh, you do?”

“I mean, you were the only one in that class willing to sit next to a stranger. And you were pretty nice about it too.”

“Uhuh, yeah, that’s me.” Only one willing? With a person like you showing up? The entire room was glaring at him.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You closed your locker and turned back to him.

“Yeah, no problem. It was no big deal, really.” He rushed out, your presence alone making him nervous.

“Anyways I-,” he cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if you’d y’know..” He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, god he was pretty. “I’d…?”

“Wannahangoutsometime.”

You stumped for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d just said before laughing lightly. He swears he saw heaven the second you’d smiled at him.

“Yeah we can hang out, right now actually!”

Grabbing his arm and walking with him as you chatted. His breathing stuttered, unprepared for your misunderstanding of his intentions, but okay with the outcome. Having your arm linked with his, pulling him wherever you wanted to go like some puppy. Giggling and whispering to him something he couldn’t pay attention to over the sweetened sound of your voice. He was pretty damn okay with it.

—

Two.

It had been around three months since you had met Miles. And although you hated the thought, you only had your mean professor to thank. So, kudos to him.

You were into the boy, no doubt. His charming personality additional to the kind of dorky thing he had going on, you loved it. A month after the initial meeting, he had finally got the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It was probably the most adorable thing you’d ever seen watching him stumble upon his words.

Now you sat with him on the rooftop of his apartment building.

A picnic blanket had been laid for the both of you by Miles himself, and his mother had made snacks.

You had just met his mother, Rio. The sweetest woman you’d probably ever met. And by the way Miles and Rio interacted, you could only think how good of a man he was.

You can always tell the intentions of a man, by his treatment of his mother.

“Your ma is really nice.”

“You think? She’s kinda protective of me.” He turned to look at you through his peripheral, leaving enough space it wasn’t obvious. “I think it’s cute, she cares for you, y’know?” You shifted yourself to face him, the Sundown light glittering against his smooth skin. He looked beautiful here, you thought. He looks beautiful everywhere.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good, ‘s always good to know you’re loved.”

Miles’ heart stuttered in his chest, sucking in a quick breath and turning himself to face you.

“Mhmm.”

You looked up at him, leaning on your hand, drifting closer to him subconsciously.

He let himself drift as well, your voices quieting without either knowledge.

“Miles?” Your soft words questioned him, doey eyes gazing up at him, heart on your sleeve.

“I wanna—“ His sentence was cut off, a blaring siren sounding in his head, nerves.

“I think I might..—“

He huffed, mad at himself for being unable to speak.

“Do you want- Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning back, a genuine glee in your eye.

“Do I want holy shit?-“ You giggled, he felt his heart flutter along with his disappointment (once more).

“-Not really, no.” You kept giggling, the serenity of your moment with Miles and his fumbling an apparent treat to you. He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Only furthering your hysteria, “Leave me alone.” He dragged the ‘lone’ dramatically before flopping back against the blankets. Huffing and staring up at you from his spot. The smile on your face was a quick fix for his soured mood, not that it was that sour in the first place. But knowing a moment of undeniable spark like that, had you smiling and giggling after, even if it led to nothing. Had his hopes and his pulse rate rising.

—

Miles was head over heels for you. He was smitten, a total and complete dog for your affection. Sitting at home sulking when you weren’t there to hang out with him. Making you add his steam solely so he can play games with you.

A puppy of a man, god he wasn’t even ashamed.

“Dude, you just need’a ask ‘em out already.” Hobie served no help to his ever growing dilemma with you, but did serve to humiliate his seemingly non-existed romantic experience. “I’m *trying, man. They just keeps misunderstanding.” “Are they taking the hint?” “What hint?” He looked up from his slouched spot in his gaming chair. Spinning the thing in circles idly. “You haven’t given ‘em a hint?” Hobie blanched at Miles, like it was some obvious mistake.

“What. Hint.”

“Oh my god, Miles.”

—

He still didn’t get it, Hobie had explained his way of ‘hinting’ to someone he liked them. Through slight touches and subtle looks, a wink here and there. But not a cringey wink (Miles would argue they’re all cringey.), the ones where you feel like you’re part of a secret. This would be helpful to him, sure. If had hadn’t done everything with you already, except the winking, that is.

He did touch you, he did catch your eye when everyone else around looked away. He kissed your forehead and held your hand. You seemed borderline allergic to walking without you arm linked through his. All of there’s things that Hobie said were couple things, he’d already nailed. So why couldn’t you just.. date each other?

“I don’t know, it’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Hobie pointed to the centre of Mile’s’ forehead and flicked. “You guys are quite literally already dating.” “No, not really?”

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

Hobie sighed, jumping off the bed and stretching his arms above his head. Miles grumbling a pouted ‘am not..’, Hobie settled him a look, taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Miles, mate, You both go to each other for comfort. You cry to each other, you find solace in one another. You touch and cuddle and sleep in the same bed.” He took another breath, seemingly needing a lot, “The only things you’re missing, are kissing each other for real. And calling each other your partners.”

“And if they end up saying no?”

“Then i’ll smash my guitar.”

Miles paused, considering the severity.

“Okay, okay i’ll do it.”

“Thank fuck.”—

—

+one

Miles had spent the better of an entire afternoon hyping himself up (and subsequently psyching himself out), before he finally had managed to make it your door and knock.

He was beyond nervous, the jitters in his bones crawling under his skin like spiders. Worse than normal, he observed.

A shuffle from inside your apartment had brought him back down to Earth. Everything suddenly becoming very real to him as you opened the door grumpily.

“Oh i’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Oh, Miles!” Your pout had almost instantly been lifted, a smile grazing your face sleepily, it was so late, he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry- It’s late. I should—“

“No!”

“No?”

It was your turn to get bashful, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands nervously. “Stay Miles.”

He softened, posture relaxing at your tone.

“Don’t want you running away again.”

That caught his attention. “Wha-“ “I was wondering when you’d finally show up outta’ the blue.” You glanced down to his lips then back. The amber in his eyes haunting your dreams, in such a welcomed way.

Miles couldn’t take it, with the way you spoke, so soft and fragile. To the things you were saying, confident and headstrong. He couldn’t fucking take it.

His hands shot up to your face, caressing the curves of your cheeks and slope of your jaw. The trails of hair behind your ears his fingers just grazed. He brought himself down to your height once more, standing on your porch step. Like some sappy rom-com.

“Tell me to stop.” He was near breathless. You didn’t, you didn’t say a thing. You simply carded your deft hands over thick curls, and pulled him down to meet you. His eyes fluttered closed and lips met yours. He felt like crying.

Like after the months of pining for you. For trying and trying for your love, for your affection, that everything in his life had only ever led to this one point. And everything farther was his happy ending. The spiders under his skin stopped crawling, settling into the crooks of his bones and finding home. He wasn’t shaking. He was still.

And as you pulled away to breathe, ogling up at him with nothing but love to give he smiled and laughed just like you did.

ITS FUCKING 3 AM I GENUINELY HAVENT SLEPT THIS IS SO CUTE

(he is ⬇️)

#miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x you #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #hobie brown #miles 1610 #2 + 1 things

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occamstfs · 5 months

Text

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air.

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.”

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears.

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole.

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right?

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control.

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom.

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view.

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent.

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at.

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #muscle tf #jockification #reality change #musk tf

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sweetiecakesss · 6 months

Note

Hiiii! Can I request a student council president Dr Ratio x school troublemaker, tomboyish fem reader, where Dr Ratio fucks reader into a submissive girl?

It's fine if you don't wanna do this kinda request tho! Have a nice day!

Igotchu Igotchu! In all honesty idk if I did your request right but all I know is...this is giving Hate Fucking-- So yes! <3 Hope you like it, Anon!

Fear Me, Not | Veritas Ratio (18+)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: You accidentally humiliated The student council president.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Veritas Ratio, Ratio being mean, Vouyeurism, Getting Caught, Slapping, Ratio calling you mena names, Hate Fucking, AFAB Reader!

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: am so proud of this one, got me choking and shi--hihihihihihi

You have waited over the weekend to get your revenge on the principal who called you a good for nothing bottom feeder.

Every monday morning your school held this boring ceremony at the gym wherein the Student Body Council President does a small speech and then the Principal, waking up very early, you decided to go to school to set up your trap…

So far so good, as soon as you reached school…IT was going smoothly, until…

Audible gasp let out from the students as the saw Veritas Ratio, dripping wet. Angered fueled him as he grabbed the mic and looked at everyone, his eye twitching in rage.

"Who.The.Fuck.Did.This…" He let out, well there was only answer and everyone in school knew that. Comically enough, everyone stepped aside as all of them pointed to you, including the principal and other teachers.

Ratio looked at you before got off of stage and dragged you by your arm and left the school gymnasium…

You're fucked…

Muffled moans filled the room as Ratio rammed his cock in you, his hand covering your mouth while his other hand is tightly gripped onto the cheeks of your ass. Fear was filling your body as your eyes remained on the unlock door of the student council room, tears streamed down from your eyes as he bullied his cock in you, hitting all the right places with each strong thrust.

"Think you're so clever humiliating me like that…" Ratio let out in a whisper through gritted teeth as he leaned down, his chest on your back, his lips on the crook of your neck as he left his marks on your body. Letting go of your mouth, his hand moved down to your neck, gripping on it.

"Fuck yo-- ngh-- let me go…" You hissed at him in between moans, despite your harsh words; Ratio was unfazed as he continued to ram himself inside you.

"You say that but you're clenching around my dick like a fucking whore." He growled, his hips snapping against you, causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head and letting out a surprised yelp that was supressed as Ratio covered your mouth again.

If only you hadn't humiliated Ratio during his morning speech at the school gym this wouldn't happened, you wouldn't have to feel his cock in you, filling you up in all the right spaces, treating you like a woman that deserves to be fucked right. Just as you and Ratio were too engrossed at feeling eachother's bodies, the both of you stopped in your tracks as you both heard a knock on the door.

The both of you looked at eachother briefly before he then pulled out of you, quickly grabbing you by your hair and pulling you, making you kneel down under his desk. Using his feet, he pushed the disregarded clothes down the table with you before taking a seat.

"Come in" He let out sternly. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him who then met your gaze. His eyes sharp and narrowing at you, his hands still on your head before he grabbed your hair again and pushed you down on his erect cock, your mouth being full of him.

"Uhh Ratio?" Looking back up, Ratio met Aventurine's gaze who was looking at him with raised brows.

"What do you want? If you're here to piss me off am not in the mood." Ratio Retorted as he slightly moved his hips, his hands guiding you to bob your head up and down his shaft.

"Woah! What's got you so pissed? Is it that Girl again?" Aventurine let out as he took a seat in front of Ratio's desk.

"That's none of your business." Ratio quickly retorted to which Aventurine just laughed heartedly.

"Just came here to chat but it looks like you're on your monthly period, Don't want to get under your nerves or I might get punished…Right, Y/N?…" Aventurine let out. As soon as he called out your name, your eyes widened as you used your hands to push yourself off of Ratio's cock, saliva dripping down your mouth as you coughed.

Ratio briefly looked down then back up at Aventurine with raised brows. Aventurine chuckled before he stood up and headed to the door.

"I can see her feet peeking out from under the table." Aventurine let out before he walked out of the room, turning the lock on before closing the door.

After Aventurine Left, Ratio leaned back on his chair and looked down at you.

"We got caught because of you!" You let out in a whispering yell, Ratio looked at you and slapped you on your face.

"Don't talk to me like that, Have you forgotten what you did to me earlier?" Ratio let out as he stood up from his seat, before bedning down and grabbing you by your arm, dragging you and making you stand up on your feet and bending you against his table once more.

"It's not my fault you stepped on the trigger, that was supposed to be for--" You paused in your tracks as your eyes widened, a quiet yet audible gasp escaping your lips as you felt him push his cock in you again. Stretching you as he made sure his shape was remembered.

"What's wrong? Can't talk?" He let out, feigning empathy as he moved his hips slowly. Ratio let out small groans, his hot breath against your skin as he lowered his head and kissed the skin on your shoulder.

"…Pussy too--fuck- full for you to talk?" He added as his movements began to pick up its pace, your head lowered as you let out soft moans, biting your lip as you try to supress the erotic sounds that escapes you.

Ratio just chuckled as he just focused on fucking himself in you, each drag of his cock you can feel its prominent veins. Your walls clenching down onto his cock and no matter how much you deny it, you know deep down you don't want him to stop.

Letting yourself go into the pleasure, you slowly leaned your body down, your mounds smooched down on the wooden desk as you stood on your tippy toes, hips moving in circles against him.

"Sho chlose…please..please" You begged him, your words slurring in the process. Ratio could only chuckle at your antics as he stood up straight, his hands grabbing onto the soft skin of your hips as he then quickened his pace.

Hips thrusting into you, groans escaping Ratio's lips as he muttered your name. Your eyes rolling at the back of your head as you cried in pleasure, moaning and calling out his name.

"Cumming!…Cumming!" You let out in between groans, with a few more thrusts, Ratio pushed his cock deep in you before coats of white painted your walls, your legs shaking as your nails scratched onto his wooden desk; Squirting as it covered you down to your legs, liquid dripping down onto the floor.

Ratio then pulled out of you as he took a seat down, admiring his work before grabbing onto your ass with both hands and spreading your folds open, letting his cum drip down.

"You look appealing this way than when you run your mouth…" Ratio let out, moving his face close to you and kissing the cheeks of your ass.

"Shut the fuck up…My body hurts…" You complained, Ratio chuckled before he then grabbed you by your hips and let you sat on his lap, kissing your forehead.

"Rest for a bit before you leave and go to detention." Ratio let out softly, taken aback…your eyes widened and you looked at him to which he raised his brows.

"What? You think just because you let me fuck your pussy good, you're getting out of trouble? Think Again."

You hate him, so fucking much…

#mao {navigation}#hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #dr. ratio #veritas ratio #ratio x reader #hsr ratio #ratio x reader smut #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio smut

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visualbutterflysworld · 8 months

Text

Break of Dawn | Vhackerr

Warning: smut, uhh just real smutty, unprotected(use birth control)

so…i may have gotten this idea from mj’s song and read some…unholy things about vin so yeah cheers.

Vinnie sighed as he finally shut off his gaming equipment and stream. He had been streaming since 7 and it was now 1 am. Knowing you, you were probably already in bed.

Drifting off, Vinnie imagines you in a little shirt. Barely covering your thighs. His bare hands roaming over the smooth skin. Your small whimpers. Vinnie quickly snaps out of it to find out that he now has a boner.

“Fuck.” He mutters before thinking of his next move. He could jerk off and go to bed or he could wake you up and have you help him fix his problem. Being the mischievous man he is he decided to wake you up.

He quietly makes his way out and to his room. Silently thanking Hera for opting to sleep on the couch tonight. He slowly opens the door and closes it behind him.

There you are. Laying so prettily with the moon shining from the window. He resists the urge to touch himself before he slowly crawls on top of you.

He first starts with small sweet kisses. Rubbing up and down on your thigh. “Y/nnn.” His voice rings out. “Mm.” “Y/nnn wake up.” He placed a light kiss on your lips. He feels you moving around almost fighting the urge to wake up. He moves down to your neck and slightly nipples on the soft skin. “Y/nnn, wake up darling.”

“Vin?” Your voice sounded so raspy which turned him on more. “Yes, love. Wake up for me.” He starts to kiss your lips until you slowly begin to kiss him back. “What’s wrong?” You ask before slowly opening your eyes. “Nothing, I just really missed you.” Vinnie now moves downwards.

“Take this off for me.” He tugs on your(his) shirt. “Mph. You do it, Mr. Needy.” You huff before yawning. “For you? Always needy.” Vinnie tugs the shirt up and throws it somewhere in the room.

You take in a sharp breath as the cool air hits you. You claw at Vinnie’s shirt and he quickly takes it off as well. Vinnie moves his head down and places a boob in his mouth. He twirls his tongue around the nipple before slightly biting it. You arch your back in response. It isn’t long until he’s down and ripping your panties off.

“Vinnie, those were expensive!” You yell slightly. “I’ll buy you more. Just relax for me, Princess.” And soon Vinnie’s mouth is attached to your clit. Sucking on it softly as you whine.

He smoothly puts a finger inside and hums at the ease. “Vinnie.” You go to cover your mouth for a moment before moving it to clutch on the sheets.

It isn’t long before he places another finger and you soon come all over. Vinnie helps you through your high as you feel your toes curl. You’re breathless almost, staring at Vinnie with a drunken haze as he sucks of his fingers. “Such a sweet taste. Always so sweet. Like chocolate covered strawberries.”

He places his thumb on your already stimulated clit, curling it slowly. You let out a small moan. “Do you eat chocolate covered strawberries every day? Is that your way of making me want to eat you out every chance i get?” Vinnie question and you only moan in response.

He pinched your clit as you don’t answer. You squirm from the feeling. “I asked you a question.” “No, Vinnie. I…just please. I need you inside me.” You grab his hair and give it a good tug. “Who’s needy now?” Vinnie chuckles.

It isn’t long until he’s stripped and soon inside you, bottoming you out. He waits a second before he starts thrust. “Fuck, so tight. Such a good girl for me.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around you. You’re in heaven. Your toes curl. Back arched. Begging for whatever it is.

“I’m gonna go nice and slow. I’m gonna fuck you all night long.” He says and you clench at the words. He smirks, “mm my pretty girl likes that idea? Letting me be inside her till the break of dawn.” You nodded rapidly as you claw at his back. “Yes. Vinnie please don’t stop.” You say as you feel your climax about to erupt.

“I know that face. My girl gonna come? Be a good girl and come for me.” You arch your back at his words. Before you come Vinnie quickly grabs your face softly to kiss you. Heaven is what you both feel.

It was gonna be a long night.

Okay go read the Bible now you freaks!

#vincent hacker #vinnie hacker #vhackerr #bwwm couples #bwwmromance #oneshot #love #lovers #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker smut

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octoberautumnbox · 9 days

Text

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be.

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again?

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her.

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?”

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel.

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor.

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else.

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her.

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice.

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup.

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.”

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day.

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier.

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again.

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away.

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her.

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two.

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams.

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love.

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again.

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–”

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep.

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this?

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel.

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed.

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time.

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said? Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen.

They never meet.

~~~

#kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #girl group smut #girl group fluff #girl group angst #kiss of life smut #kiss of life fluff #kiss of life angst #kiof smut #kiof fluff #kiof angst #kiof belle #kiss of life belle #i forgot to consider the tags when i wrote this #fic box

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nor-4 · 4 months

Text

Formula 1 Incorrect Quotes with reader Two

F1IQ - Part One

Y/n: Bitch why don't you shut the fuck up before i slit your throat and watch the honor roll out?

Max: Are you threatening me??

Y/n: No, I'm hitting on you, flash me a titty bitch.

Lewis: Yeah uh, there's something I've been wanting to say lately.

Y/n: Oh what's that?

Lewis: The N-Word

Y/n looking at toto: Look at your dad. Such a dork, keeping bees.

Y/n: I mean atleast it's interesting though. At least like, i wish my dad kept bees.

Y/n: I mean it's kind of cute. Like, your dad keeps bees.

Y/n: How old is your dad? He's obviously beekeeping age. I dont know. I think It's kind of sweet.

Y/n: George, i wanna fuck your dad.

George: Oh really?

Yuki: Hey can i sit with you?

Y/n: Why

Yuki looking at stroll and ocon: The kids at the other table keep throwing ketchup packets at me.

Y/n: You're not covered in ketchup, though

Yuki: They don't know you have to open it first

Y/n: Damn. We need remedial bullying class too.

Yuki: So how do you like your remedial english?

Y/n: I guess it's whatever. My mom was really pissed, though.

Yuki: Yeah? What about your dad?

Y/n: My dad killed himself.

Charles: I'm finally seeing someone good for me.

Alex: Omg who is it?

Charles: A therapist

Y/n: max is pissing me off *20 minutes ago*

Y/n: nvm just got dicked down

George: Girl what..

Fernando: Every time i talk to you i feel confused.

Fernando: I've never met anyone that speaks like you do

Y/n: Stop lovebombing me

Fernando: what? It's not a compliment

Fernando: You scare me

Y/n: What are you hiding from me?

Zhou: Nothing..

Y/n: Zhou Guanyu.

Zhou pulls out a cat: The cat distribution system chose me okay

Y/n at drive to survive: If he cheats on you, put hair remover in his shampoo, you wanna act like Andrew tate, u gon look like him too.

Lewis wearing a beanie: I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS FOREVER

Toto: That's your fault. Being too quick signing your seat with ferrari

Oscar: Are you high?

Lando: Am i what?

Oscar: High

Lando: Hello

Christian: So what could a Mercedes principal possibly have then?

Y/n: I just feel like he'd be into satan-worship, or at the very least have a sex diary.

Christian: A toto wolff sex diary would be horrifying. He's like our rival.

Y/n: We say that about Stephen king books, we still read those.

Daniel: "Dear diary, hot candle wax hurts so good"

Christian: No it'd probably be like a thesaurus of words for "Good"

Daniel: Yeah he probably sexts with perfect grammar.

Y/n: "My wife showed an exquisite exhibition of lust for me."

Toto: Let me try something different here. Do you guys have thoughts and feelings for one another?

Y/n: Uhh i think George's kinda spoiled

George: And i feel like y/n's a bitch

Y/n: What're you gay?

Alex: What.. How did you know? I've never told anyone that.

Y/n: Dude look at your hair dye, you're either gay or color blind.

Lance: bro stop chanting in dead language's your scaring the hoes

Y/n: Bitch you is so lonely I'm summoning the hoes

Sebastian: You used to be shy, now you're a whore

Y/n: There's a thing called character development

Oscar: Reminder that I'm very sweet and endearing so be nice to me

Carlos: or what

Oscar: or I'll punch your lights out

Hey yall this is a bit short cause I'm finna make a random crack twitter posts n I'll post it in the most random day. I love yall baby💋

#formula one incorrect quotes #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #max verstappen x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #alex albon x reader #george russel x reader #toto wolff x reader #zhou guanyu x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #charles leclerc x reader

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cringe-but-proud · 22 days

Note

Sorry to bother you, but I saw your asks/requests were open, and saw that you write for Gambit, I read through your works and love how you write him! I was wondering if maybe you would be willing to do a drabble/ficlet with Gambit x reader? Where reader has ADHD and anxiety? Her mutant power is Empathy, but she only feels other's emotions; can't tell why they're feeling them, and the combo kinda makes her a people pleaser type who struggles to say no to things, so ends up with extra work from other people all the time, kinda burning the candle at both ends until she basically has a mental/physical breakdown? I just really wanna see Gambit being super loving/protective.

If you don't want to/it isn't in your wheelhouse, by all means just ignore me, sorry again to bother you! Have a great day/night!

We love a Gambit request 😋

Remy LeBeau x fem!mutant!Reader

Warnings: reader cries and also blames herself for all of her problems 😗✌️

A/n: Man, idk what to put here sometimes, y’all. Reader has a regular job (not an X-Man or anything). And uhh, um, erm requests are open 👍

This whole mess was your fault. All of it. All of the piled up work, and the deadlines you just knew you wouldn’t be able to meet, and the dread over knowing people would be disappointed in you, and your infuriating inability to say no; it was all your fault.

It was days like these when you wished you could get rid of your mutation. That way you might not be such a damn pushover. But, you couldn’t help it. People from work come into the office feeling a little down, and suddenly you’re offering to go get them a coffee, to make some copies for them, to sort out some files, and finish that research project they’ve been putting off. And in the moment, you can feel the happiness and relief radiating from them, and it makes you feel good. But, then you realize (too late) that it’s too much for you to get done in one workday.

Which led you to your current predicament. You were trying to get all of this work (which wasn’t even technically yours) done, but you also needed to get some work around the house done, and your mind couldn’t focus on one task at a time.

You reread the same paragraph for what felt like the eighteenth time, hardly making it past the second sentence before you had to begin rereading it again after your mind had wandered to your laundry that still needed cleaning.

And just when you’d gotten yourself to focus again, there were three knocks at your door. You groaned, letting your head fall to your hands for a moment before you got up and dragged yourself to the door. You looked through the peephole and saw your boyfriend Remy. He was all put together in a nice suit and tie, severely contrasting you in your pajamas with your hair a mess and makeup completely wiped away.

Your stomach sank and you completely froze. You’d forgotten. You’d gotten so caught up in wanting to please other people, that you’d forgotten about tonight.

You just stood at the door, unable to move as your heart began to pound and your throat began to feel tight. Remy knocked again, this time calling your name. You finally opened the door with shaky hands and almost immediately began to sob.

“Woah, woah!” Remy reached out and held you by your shoulders, his hold gentle yet steadying. “What’s wrong chère?”

“I-“ You choked out. “I forgot, Remy. I forgot about tonight.”

Remy had made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant, one you’d been wanting to go to for a while. And you’d forgotten. He’d gotten dressed up all nice for you and it was for nothing, and you, like always, were to blame.

You continued to cry pathetically while Remy guided you over to sit on your couch. “Talk to me, chère.” He said as he gently took your hands.

“I-I forgot-“

“Gambit don’t care about that.” You let your head fall forward onto his shoulder where you continued to sob. “There’s something else, huh?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Sometimes you felt like he had some of your empath abilities as well, or at least some form of mind reading. He could always tell when something was wrong, or when someone was lying. Or maybe it was just with you. Either way, when he suggested that there was something else bothering you, you nodded against him.

“You wanna tell Gambit?”

You inhaled shakily before speaking again. “There’s just…. It’s so much- too much going on— Too much on my plate.” You said, struggling to find the words through your choked sobs and jumbled thoughts.

Remy hummed. This wouldn’t be the first time that you overwhelmed yourself with tasks and work that needed to be done. “Like what?” He asked. And he listened while you listed off all of the things at work that were bugging you and then all of the chores at home that only added to your stress, all the while he soothingly rubbed your back. And once you were finally done, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your tears had come to a small occasional trickle rather than what felt like a flood a few moments ago.

“Tell you what,” Remy said as he began to pull away. “You rest here while Gambit helps.”

“What?” You asked as he put a blanket over you.

“Lay down. Gambit gonna get some of this outta your way, alright?”

You hardly had the energy to protest, and as you drifted to sleep, you could hear the soft whirring of your washing machine as Remy began doing your laundry for you.

You woke up an hour or two later to the smell cooking, and sat up to see Remy standing in your kitchen over the stove. You groggily got to your feet and walked over to him, hooking your chin over his shoulder to get a look at what he was cooking.

“You get good rest?” Remy asked as he stirred a pot.

“Yeah.” You mumbled back. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, belle?”

“For making you deal with this, with me.” You replied, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

Remy turned his head to the side to press a warm kiss to the side of your head. He hummed softly. “You know Gambit ain’t never gonna mind having to deal with you.”

“You mean it?” You asked, a soft smile on your lips.

“You know I do.”

And he was right. In that moment, standing with your chest pressed to his back and your arms around his waist, you were practically drowning in the love and care you could feel radiating off of him. And you knew that he meant it.

#fanfiction #x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau fanfiction #gambit x reader #gambit fanfiction #x men x reader #x men fanfic #x men fanfiction

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the-californicationist · 10 months

Text

The Fox & the Hound (Ch. 01)

Inspired by a tag on @ceilidho's tumblr post reblogged by @garbagecompactor3263827 where Johnny wants to sink his teeth into a newbie porn star.

MDNI/18+ NO EXCEPTIONS

AO3 Link - Comments/Reblogs very appreciated

You watched him prep in the shared bathroom. People were bustling in and out, and a lighting manager was handing him a fresh razor, reaching over him for her films. He trimmed around his fat, flaccid cock with a practiced hand, getting the hairs just right. Part of you wished it was still the 80s when bush was en vogue . The rest of him remained furry, thankfully, and just as you were about to tend to your own garden, he caught you looking. That same glint in his eyes sparkled, like a hound that had spotted the writhing tail of its fox, ready to crack its bones in his huge maw. He’d been looking at you like that all day. He laughed, but he didn’t ride you for gawking. If anything, he looked a little relieved. What had you gotten yourself into?

Nothing had gone according to plan. This was your first real shoot, and the original actor who had set you up with this production company wasn’t even in the film. Film , your internal monologue chided you, it’s a porno, you filthy slut . Okay, a porn film. You’d sent nude photos here and there, and you’d even landed in Playboy as a back-page lube advert girl. It was a start. But, now, here you were about to shoot your first porno , and the only thing you knew about this guy was that he had fought for this part.

He was beyond famous. You’d heard that Johnny Dangerous was the man of the hour, and that most of the girls who needed to boost their bankrolls called him up to ask him to co-star. You’d never even heard of him until today, and after hanging around the catering cart, you learned that he was the one who had paid actual money to star with you.

It was probably some power play. Maybe it was your novelty. Banging the brand new porn actress must have been some sort of game. You didn’t care. This one gig was about to pay off your loans and buy you a brand new car all at the same time. You just needed to survive Mr. Dangerous.

“Honey, are you comin’? We gotta shoot outside before the sun goes down.”

The voice came from the doorway, but you weren’t the honey, for once. They were talking to him. He didn’t answer. He just nodded, dismissing them, throwing his bright green swim shorts back on and rubbing the remainder of the oil into his broad chest. He was staring at you, biting hard at the inside of his cheek like he had a secret. Then, his expression became resolute, and he spoke to you softly, the way you do when you’re trying to coax a cat out from under a car,

“You gonna make it, lass?”

“Yeah,” you swiped on some waterproof mascara as an excuse to stare into the mirror and not at him, “I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. That seems normal.”

“It is,” Johnny moved closer to you, fluffing his own eyebrows in the mirror right alongside you, “Very normal. I’ll take care of you, hen. Nothin’ to worry your wee head about.”

You smiled. You didn’t want to thank him, exactly, but you wanted to be nice. Cordial. Professional.

It wasn’t very professional of you to stare at the way his cock bounced as he adjusted his shorts, though, was it?

Then, to your shock, he leaned down and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips, tasting your sticky, cherry gloss, and saying,

"See you in a bit, bonnie. Gonna make you feel real good."

You stopped. He was gone, and for the first time that afternoon, you were alone. He lingered in all of the cracks and crevices of you, though. Now that he had pressed his lips to you, the spell had begun, and you realized you’d be fucking this man for hours. You drank your water from your icy jug, trying to turn it into liquid courage.

“Okay, okay, uhh… cute, yeah. Love it,” the director, Mike, appraised you like he worked on an assembly line, swooshing you over to the diving board with his hand, clutching a venti Starbucks cup in the other, “You look great, babe. Go sit on the diving board and let’s do a little preamble. Feel yourself up, pretend that you’re sunbathing in Malibu and not fuckin’ Santa Clarita, mkay?”

You made your way over to the diving board, walking in a way that you assumed was sexual, making a sexual face, and moving your hands across your tits…sexually. You thought it was a fine job until you heard the cut whistle.

Mike was behind four people, two cameras, and an iPad when he shouted at you again,

“This isn’t a goddamn church service, babe. C’mon. I get hard when Chuy over here drives too fast, and this is not doin’ it.”

“Sorry,” you said, moving back to your mark, determined to be positively the sexiest sunbather he had ever seen.

“Mikey,” you heard Johnny’s voice call out, “Lemme kick it off.”

“Shut up, Johnny. I can’t afford your extra minutes, you skank,” Mike laughed and sipped his triple caramel mochaccino.

Johnny came out from his shaded tent and cut his eyes at Mike before staring right at you,

“No charge. Just want it to be right.”

“Ugh,” Mike rolled his eyes behind his too-small sunglasses, “You and your…” he used scare quotes, “... art . Fine. Whatever. I just don’t want to shoot in the goddamn dark, so hurry up.”

Johnny walked around the pool, stroking himself across his shorts to stay hard. He was so thick that it looked like he was petting a handle of vodka back and forth. You tried to control your face, but you were getting more and more nervous as he came closer and closer to you.

“C’mere, bonnie,” he pulled you up from the diving board and held you in his arms.

If it wasn’t for the twenty people sweating to death in black tech clothes and eating dried-out hummus from foam plates standing around you, you would have felt like you were at your high school formal, being cradled gently in hands that wanted to do so much more.

“Eyes on me,” he whispered.

You obeyed, for some reason. There was nothing else to do but obey him.

When he bent to kiss you, you knew it was for the cameras, because the angle of his face was open and softly spread so that the way he sucked your lips into his mouth would be seen by A and B-roll film. You kissed him back, trying to turn the sexiness up to eleven, rubbing your hands on his rigid cock to appear wanton and needy.

He shuddered, and you thought you’d done something wrong. The look in his eyes told a different story. They were feverish, daring, and his pupils were fully blown. You could smell the coconut sunscreen someone had applied to him, and you could feel his breathing quicken in his huge body.

Mike’s nasally voice came over the speakers,

“Let’s get a boom in there and pick up some of the kissing noise, please. Also, Johnny, some of your famous accent there, baby. You know what the ladies like.”

You were being kissed again, now set up for everyone to hear. He was devouring you, and you tried to keep your footing, grabbing his hulking shoulders and running your hands across his hirsute form. His muscles rippled and stretched beneath your touch, and he spoke his lines,

“Thought you would sneak into my wee pool, did ya, hen?”

You gave your voice a high-pitched lilt,

“Yes, I just wanted to get nice and tan.”

“Aye?” He pulled the tie on your bikini top, “Wouldn’t wanna get any tan lines, huh?”

You shook your head no, kissing his bare chest and feeling the top slither off of you to hang around your waist.

“Wow,” his voice had changed its timbre, “Look at these pretty tits. Jesus…”

Johnny brought his mouth down to your nipple and sucked on it, licking on your beaded nub until it tightened for him, making sure to allow the camera man a full view of your perky breasts as they filled his hands.

You moaned, and then you remembered to moan the right way, high and whiny. The higher the pitch, the higher the profit, they’d said.

Johnny stopped suddenly, looking you in your eyes,

“Go back, lass. The first way. Do it the first way.”

“Johnny!” Mike complained, “Do you wanna come sit in this fuckin’ chair, or are you gonna focus on gettin’ your fat dick wet? Stop directing mid-scene. Cut. Cut. Start over with the tit sucking, and we’ll take it from the top,” Mike changed the tone of his voice and smiled at you, “You’re doing great, babe. Ten outta ten.”

You felt Johnny move his mouth to you again, but this time, his eyes were watching you, looking at you and waiting for you to make a choice. He was eager to make you moan, sucking hard and then soft, letting his long tongue lave over you like an animal, nibbling at your skin and making your blood rush to the surface.

You moaned for real, testing the waters. Johnny smiled so wide you could see his back teeth, his jaw open and parting to let his tongue come forward to do its work.

“Tha’s it, hen. Lemme hear you.”

His enormous hand squeezed your other breast, and he moved his mouth between them, stirring up your pleasure like a whisk in cream. Soft peaks.

You obliged. The more you moaned, the more he fondled. He was yanking at your strings and ripping the bikini from you quicker than you had assumed he would be, especially since you were still in the outdoor scene. Wasn’t this all supposed to be inside?

“Christ,” Mike groaned, “I look at my email for five seconds and you’re almost nose-deep in her asshole? Johnny, this was supposed to be at couch scene three. Can - hey! Can somebody get him a book?”

Someone handed him a book, and he tossed it in the bushes,

“I dinnae care if it’s scene five thousand, Mikey. Just shoot it vérité, mate. Just like old times,” Johnny barked. He was getting more and more ruffled as Mike kept cutting in, almost like he was impatient to be done with it. Done with you?

Mike turned his head to his assistant and asked,

“How many minutes do we have? Are we good? Okay. Okay!” He threw up his hands, “Okay, Johnny, you prima donna bitch. Let’s take it inside.”

The Someone with the book now passed Johnny his robe and he shouldered it on. He looked around and barked again,

“Aye! Hers? Give it here.”

He then had your robe in his hands and put it over you, cloaking you in its soft terrycloth, making sure you were covered. It was such an abrupt stop to your pleasure, one that you were not used to making, and your body railed you for it. Your pussy throbbed, your nipples ached, and your belly was full of butterflies. He held your hand as you walked inside. Just as you were about to get into position four on couch three, he pulled you back, nodding up at Mike and his team of people.

“Okay, lets get lighting on couch scene three, Billy. Hey! Hotdog! I didn’t say pull the lamp. Put the lamp back. Thanks, my man. Two more clicks on the warm light. Okay, gross, one click. Perfecto.”

Mike’s head popped over his iPad,

“You lovebirds ready for scene three?”

“Hang on,” Johnny grumbled, removing his swim trunks and flip-flops.

He positioned himself on the couch and spread his legs, jerking himself back to full hardness and staring right at you as he did so.

“C’mon, bonnie. I’m ready for you.”

You made your way over to the couch and knelt down. You didn’t mean to, but you hissed when your knees hit the cold, hard tiles.

“Sorry!” You whispered to him.

He took his hands off his cock and pulled you onto the couch with him,

“Here, bonnie girl. Like this instead, yeah?”

Johnny pushed himself out along the length of the couch so that you were both laying on it. You placed your knees on the arm of it, raising your bare ass in the air for B-roll shots, your face perfectly positioned at Johnny’s raging hard-on. It was massive up close. His plump head and thick rod had seemed normal in his huge hands, but now that your small fingers were wrapped around him, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Okay, fuck,” Mike smiled, drinking his coffee and nodding, “That’s hot. Good call, new girl. Smart.”

You smiled back at Mike, grateful for the praise, feeling like you were going to knock it out of the park. Then, Johnny’s cruel hand grabbed your hair and turned your head up to stare into his eyes. He grinned like a demon,

“You don’t have to smile at him, lass. He’s a fuckin’ bawbag.”

“JD! Can we get on with it?” Mike rolled his eyes.

You got on with it. Something in Johnny’s demeanor had stirred a dark place in your belly. He was possessive, and he didn’t like you smiling at Mike. He did like the way you took each of his balls in your mouth and sucked on them with loose, pouty lips. His moans were cut short, not wanting to over-saturate the reel with male grunting sounds. Apparently, the straight male audience wasn’t a fan of anyone’s grunting but their own.

He also liked when you tried to take him into your throat, moving your head as far as you could down his shaft, choking on his cock until you felt drool coat the inside of your mouth. You spit it onto him, and he wrenched his eyes shut, unable to watch you fuck your own face with his shaft.

“Okay, while Johnny’s taking a nap or whatever that face is, let’s get B-roll in here for her mouth. Also, let’s take a minute or so of that gorgeous ass she’s got up there for us. That’s gonna be money, my friend. You are gonna be Miss Popular!”

In the place where you were staring before, Johnny’s face of agony and bliss, now there was a big, black lens. You could see yourself, bobbing up and down hungrily, and you pulled out all the stops. You suckled gently on his glans, lapping up his precome dutifully, enjoying it enough to moan again.

He jumped, and Johnny’s hand snaked its way under the camera to squeeze the life out of his shaft.

“Hey, mate, move to B-roll of her ass, would ya?”

The camera man laughed,

“About to lose it, Johnny? I thought she was the newbie.”

“Shut up, mate.”

You stayed stock still, watching as the camera moved to your rear end, feeling beyond exposed. You played with your pussy, spreading it open, fingering yourself, all of the things you were supposed to do. And, to be honest, it felt great. You needed to come so badly, a warm breeze would have been sexy to you at this point.

Johnny stared down at you, his dick still in the prison of his fist, panting,

“How are we doin’, lass?”

“Good, you?” You appreciated the check-in.

“Good. Ready to fuck you. So damn ready.”

His voice and his eyes were predatory. You felt like his prey. Prey had claws, too, though. So, you licked his shaft again, and you fed his own line back to him,

“I’m gonna come so fast. You’re gonna make me feel so good, baby.”

His face changed into a look of shock. Just then, Mike rang the bell,

“Alright, it’s couch doggy and - what does this say?”

“Light,” someone told him.

“Okay, light spanking? You okay with that new girl? It says you signed off on it.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“Okie dokie, just checking. Sweet. Let’s get there.”

Johnny was standing at the arm of the couch, positioned behind you were you couldn’t see him. You felt his hands rub your cheeks and spread them wide, opening your core up to him. Then, that long tongue was lapping up your wetness, and he was talking with his mouth full,

“Mmf, so wet for me, lassie. That’s my good girl.”

Your pussy clenched and you knew he could see it. You thought he might laugh or make some other comment, but he kept your secret, licking the inside of you with soft, languid strokes, you gave him another clench - this time on purpose - waiting to see if you could rile him up again.

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny moaned, “You’re so ready for me. Fuck me, wait.”

He stopped eating you out, which was the opposite of what you were going for. This shoot was a disaster, and you really needed this gig.

“I’m sorry!” You said, turning around.

“What?” His brow furrowed, “No, just wait. Mike!”

“What is it now? Johnny - this is why I didn’t call you about Manuel Ferrara’s gangbang.”

“I just need my bag.”

Mike’s sigh was theatrical,

“Everyone take five.”

The bell went off again. You sat on the couch and the same someone brought you your robe and a water. You smiled and thanked them. Johnny had disappeared, but when he came back, he was wearing a thick, black cock ring, tightly secured around his shaft and balls.

“Okay,” he sighed, sitting by you on the couch, robeless.

“Are you alright?” You asked, offering him some of your water.

He took it, gulping down two huge swallows before responding,

“Aye, lass. Just had to stop myself from ending this show too soon.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise,

“I thought it was for the opposite reason. Must be hard to keep it up for such a long time, especially with all these breaks.”

He laughed,

“Usually, yeah. But, not today.”

His eyes were raking over you, still hungry for you even though he’d seen it all already. It would have been a lie to say you weren’t hungry for him, too. It was intoxicating, the way he stared at you, eager and joyful. You weren’t surprised he was so popular.

“Annnnnd, we’re back, people! Baby, could you perch up there again, please? Now that Mr. Princess is done preening, we can shoot a fucking porno.”

You repositioned yourself back to where you were, and someone came by to re-oil your ass cheeks. They felt shiny, and you hoped you looked great. Watching the film was going to be humbling, but this was your first time and you were learning so much.

Johnny took his place behind you, and you felt the familiar, heavy slap of a cockhead on your pussy lips, sticky and exciting. You gasped. He responded,

“That’s right, hen. It’s time for your reward.”

He began to feed his head into you, and the crown of it popped into your hole with some resistance. Behind you, his thick fingers spread your cheeks apart, and you felt one hand leave just to return in a sharp smack. You cried out louder. He sank in a little deeper, moaning right along with you. He slapped your ass again and growled,

“Fuuuuuuck, that’s too tight, that’s too tight. Oh, Jesus.”

You keened, embarrassed, but unable to stop the noise that came out of your mouth.

“You like it, lass? Gettin’ this pretty little cunt all stretched out for me. Gonna make you beg for this cock and only this fuckin’ cock, ain’t that right?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, your voice straining, “Only this cock, baby. Fuck me nice and hard.”

You regretted every word because he was pleased to oblige you. He slammed himself down into your aching hole, pressing through your walls, through your wetness and the oil and the lube, and it still wasn’t enough. You felt like you were tearing apart, especially when he pressed you onto his hilt.

Everything slowed way down. You saw white, for a moment, and you felt tears well up in your eyes, burning on their way down your cheeks. He was trying to ease you though it, but you were coming on him. Your whole body was shaking and trembling, and his girth was forcing an orgasm to rattle through your core. You even felt him fighting to stay inside of you, battling against your tightening walls, desperate to keep his position, nestled at your womb, deep within you.

“Oh, fuck! Lass! Holy God, that pussy is tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You felt him slap you again, but the sting was gone. Your body had flooded you with orgasmic endorphins and adrenilne, and it was going to take a lot more than a “light spanking” to get your attention away from the cosmic nova exploding in your belly.

Johnny’s thrusts were that of a hungry beast. He didn’t falter, nor slow, nor stop to check and see if you were even still alive. He was chasing himself down inside of you like a dog with its tail. Over and over and over, you felt the heavy weight of him pushed forward, smacking into you, feeling his hips snap repeatedly spearing your core with his enormous rod. He was grunting with abandon now, just barking out cries along with you, and when you looked at him over your shoulder, his face was bent and twisted in such a rage that it frightened you. He looked inhuman.

Suddenly, you were lifted from the couch, and his hands were around you. He flipped you over and held your thighs pressed down to your chest, creating an even deeper angle. You regained your thoughts quickly enough to hold your legs pinned for him, only half-worried that you’d tumble off the couch.

You weren’t sure it was possible though, since his grip on your waist was so punishingly tight. He was fucking you so hard and so fast that you were feeling it in your bones. Your hips were taking the brunt of his sex-fueled wrath, and you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow.

Then, his fingers found your clit, rubbing accurate and pleasure-filled circles around and around, making your lips swell with intensity. You were going to come again, and you told him so,

“Johnny… you’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Come,” he snarled down at you, his eyes wild and haunted, “Come on me. I wanna feel you fuckin’ squeeze me out. Come. Come. Come, lass. Come for me, pretty girl. Oh! Oh, there it is. Yes, yes, yes, good girl. Good girl. Fuck!”

He rode you through your orgasm and stalled, leaving himself inside of your fluttering walls, basking in the sensation, trying to catch his breath. Johnny sat on the couch and you climbed into his lap, taking his cock in your hands and guiding it back into your dripping hole.

“Bonnie,” he sighed, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass in both of his hands, “You feel like heaven. God, baby, don’t stop. Just like that, don’t stop.”

You were rocking back and forth on him, and you could feel his swollen head rubbing at the end of your pussy, bullying your cervix, making you feel too full.

“It’s too much, baby,” you confessed, squishing your breasts together and letting him move his mouth across your nipples once again, “You’re too big. Filling me up… I’m so full.”

“You’re so tight, lass.”

He said it like a prayer. His eyes were glassy as they stared up at you. All of his bravado and flirtatiousness was gone, and it had been replaced by boyish wonder. It was as if it was his first time to feel the inside of a woman, to be hugged, warm and wet, engulfed in her core and playing within her the oldest song known to man. You sang it for him, not for profit anymore. His bewtichment was complete. You were totally and completely ensnared by him.

Then, he held you to him, clutching you to his chest and screaming out loud, braying and writhing beneath you. He was coming. You felt him pulse, over and over, spilling and foaming and frothing around the edges of your hole, soaking you from the inside.

You rode him slowly, back down from his high, and he gasped with every roll of your hips, looking at you in some sort of horrible ecstasy.

Mike’s bell went off in your ear.

“Okay, folks! Thanks so much. Let’s wrap it. I’m sure some of this is salvageable. Johnny, and uh… whatever your name is, you still owe me garden scene six and upstairs… um, is it pool table? It’s pool table. Wanna be back here tomorrow at two?”

Johnny gave an exhausted thumbs up, and so did you, finally sliding yourself off of him with a wet milky sound.

“Um,” you tried to catch your breath, “Thanks, for helping me today. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked at you quizzically, almost a little hurt. It was a confusing face to see, but you didn’t really know him that well, so you waited for his reply.

“Sure, bonnie.”

You untangled your legs from him and pulled on your robe, leaving him on the couch. You needed a shower and some brand of fast food, as soon as physically possible.

The bathroom was steaming when you hopped in, and you were covered head to toe in coconut smelling soap when you heard a knock at the door.

“Uh, come in?” You peeked around the glass partition.

It was Johnny.

“Got room for one more, lass?”

You looked around behind him, half-expecting a camera to pop out. He noticed your reticence, and he shook his head,

“Nevermind. Forget I asked.”

“Hey, yeah. Sure, if you want. Come on in,” you moved deeper into the shower, letting him step into the billowing steam.

At first, he was silent, just washing himself, scraping the suds over his body and sharing the water with you. But, then, he asked,

“Wanna get a bite? I’m starvin’ to death.”

“Me, too,” you laughed.

“Class,” he smiled.

There was another long pause, and then when you turned off the water, he stepped into your space, too close to be friendly,

“What if I was still hungry for you as well, hen? What would you say to that?”

The water dripped from the head of the shower in a soft tinkling pattern. You breathed each other’s breaths, inching closer and closer until your lips touched his wide chest, the hair smeared flat from the warm water, rivulets rushing down his belly to his crotch, dripping off of him and of you.

You kissed his chest again, feeling him shudder under you as if he hadn’t just come inside of you minutes ago, packed with anxious excitement.

Smiling up at him, you took a chance,

“Your couch or mine?”

Chapter 02

#call of duty fanfic #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish smut #soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod mwii #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

Note

Hi! How about Yandere! Frankenstein's monster? Maybe Reader was the doctor's younger sibling?

—£ Yandere!Male!Frankenstein x gn!teen!reader( platonic pairing)

—£ thank you for being my first question for the new thing I’m trying out! Forgive me because I haven’t listened to the story in ages, but lets go on a New Journey together?

—£ warning: yandere behavior, stalking, making up my own story, over all just wholesome

You weren’t supposed to be at his house. This was no place for a child but you had been forced to stay with him.

Your older brother never liked you much and found you annoying. So much younger, so small minded.

So when you moved in his house you could only go a few places, your room, the kitchen and the living room.

So you payed mind to your own things other then him which was great because he didn’t pay any attention to you anyway.

You hated the basement and you’ve never go in there. Your brother would disappear in there for hours and you couldn’t hear anything. It freaked you out. He was odd.

Which is why you should have stayed away from the banging on the door. It was loud and heavy like a large beast was clawing at the door. And deep groaning of what you think was a man scared you.

But it sounded scared and pleading and your heart couldn’t handle it. But with your luck it would be a bear or a wolf, something angered probably by your brother.

Though, you didn’t expect to find a man about five times your size- If you could call him a man. His skin was green with stitches in his skin and bolts around his neck.

He was no man.

He saw you look at him with fear as you stepped back, “Holy-” one wrong move and your death could be near.

He mumbled words but you couldn’t understand anything. He was trying to speak but clearly couldn’t.

He made no fast movements towards you. His eyes wide and you notice that look in his eyes. Fear.

He was scared of you? Why would be be scared of a young teen?

“Uhh…Are you okay?” He didn’t seem to understand you either.

So you showed him he had nothing to fear but the two of you were still worry about each other. But you came around.

He likes it when you smiled at him. You didn’t shout at him, you didn’t hurt him. You were nice.

I think he would think about you often after that. When the doctor came home you told him you found the man in the basement.

“You have been keeping him in the basements this whole time? What is wrong with you?”

Now your brother didn’t want to hurt you. But you forced your way into things that weren’t yours to know. But he agreed to let you see him a few times, though it was only a experiment.

And each time he would acted like a child when he saw you. Happy to see you, and like listening to you speak.

Which is why you read to him each time you saw him. He loved it. Brought him small things so he could be entertained when you were away.

Then he was able to go out into the world. Only with you. He walked behind you while you went to school, something your brother told him to do but he didn’t mind. Even if you didn’t know he was there.

He’d protect you any chance you got. Finding the boys who picked on you and gave them nightmares if he didn’t end up killing them. Or somehow hurting the girls as well, like cutting their hair or making them trip around the neighborhood.

“You know, one day I’m going to take you and move to Hollywood.” You said while looking into the magazine in your hand, “Don’t you think I’d be perfect on stage?” He mumble in agreement.

He’d get rid of your brother one day, chock him to death. And kill anyone he needed to make your dreams come true.

“My sibling.” But his words only came out in muffled and groans. You sometimes didn’t know what he was saying but you didn’t mind.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere concept #yandere Frankenstein #yandere Frankenstein x reader #Frankenstein x reader #platonic x reader #platonic yandere #yandere headcanons

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wosoragebaiter69 · 8 months

Text

teasing

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here & here

A/N: I bought FIFA23 today cuz i found it for $34, like damn. YES. PLEASE. In the basket 😌 I can now play other games other than hogwarts legacy and forza

TW: coarse language

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

As soon as you saw the message, you knew it was over. Your phone was in the hands of Ona who was looking at edits of herself on TikTok with Pina. You attempt to take the phone back, but it’s too late and they’ve already run out of the recreational room to the field where some of the other girls kicking are kicking a ball around.

“Y/N’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND, Y/N’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!” Ona screams running and kicking the ball out of the way.

Jana and Bruna immediately rush over stealing the phone and opening messages.

“Guys, it’s nothing. Please stop.” You plead, hoping they’ll drop it. Jana looks up and narrows her eyes at you.

“It’s not nothing if this mystery girl has a HEART next to her name. We will not drop this until you tell ussss.” She drags out. You shake your head, before ultimately giving in.

“Fine, it’s just a crush ok? Now please, give me back my phone.” They seem satisfied and you thought it was over until Salma walks over.

“Careful now, don’t push us to the side when you get the girl.” You groan, walking away and flipping them off in the process. Noting that the next time you give someone your phone, to put it on do not disturb.

You look down at the message, finally being able to read it.

‘I just asked my mum and she said I could go! Could you send the ticket through please ;)’ You find yourself blushing as you walk through the doors back into the building, ignoring the curious glances sent your way.

- - - - -

Over the next couple of days, the teasing became more and more, and you only got more and more frustrated. Even Patri and Asisat joining in. The Nigerian didn’t really comment though, only some remarks and laughing, but it was more funny to you than the pestering of the others.

You didn’t realise that the girls had in fact read the message, you thought they were only focused on the heart next to her name. How wrong you were.

It was after warming-up, everyone was in the locker-room awaiting the speeches from Marta and Jona when Ona came and sat next to you, Claudia on the other side.

“Will we see mystery girl with a heart next to her name today?” Ona says, smirking. You groan.

“You two better not do anything I mean it.” You warn, wanting to be done with everything.

“Come onnn.” Claudia drags out. “I want to meet her.”

“And I don’t want you guys to meet her. Simple.” You say, standing up and walking towards where the tactics were about to be said.

- - - - -

The game is a good one, a 6-0 win and you play for about 30 minutes. It was comfortable and you laugh to yourself, thinking about how the team only had six subs, and got six goals.

You walk around, greeting and signing things for fans when you see her. The one the girls have been teasing about all week. You smile and hug her.

“Sorry… I’m a bit sweaty.” You blush looking away.

“No, no, it’s ok.” She laughs.

“So uhh, how did you like the game?” You look back up smiling.

“It was a good one, nice assist by the way.” Again, a blush crawls up your neck and to your cheeks. Then, out of nowhere Jana and Bruna are next to you and you look back to see Ona, Patri and Claudia looking at you.

“Maya, this is Jana and Bruna. My teammates and friends.” You introduce, nervous.

“So this is the one with the heart next to her name?” Jana says smugly, before you can object Bruna speaks.

“Found yourself a good one Y/N!”

“Please… not right now. Go away.” You sigh, looking apologetically at Maya who looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Fine, but if you need ANYTHING we will be right over there.” Jana points to where most of the girls are cluttered together, in the cold. She starts to walk away while Bruna stays.

“Bruna what do you want-“ You’re cut off as she manages to lift up your shirt and runs away with it. Back to where you see the other girls are laughing.

“I’m sorry for that, uhh” I look down and feel goosebumps forming all over my body.

“I think I will go. You should probably get warm, it’s cool out here.” You nod slowly, embarrassed by how this turned out.

“Thanks for coming though, hopefully we meet again?” You ask.

“We’ll see.” She smirks. “Bye Y/N.” Maya then turns around and leaves as you sigh for what felt like the millionth time this week. Feeling deflated, you walk back and don’t watch where you’re going.

You bump into Irene out of everyone.

“Lo siento.” You mumble.

“It’s alright- hey what’s wrong?” She grips your forearm assessing your face.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

“Nena, don’t lie to me. What happened? Where’s your shirt? Aren’t you cold?” She says looking around.

“Just Bruna and Jana being annoying again, don’t worry.” You half-smile.

“What did they do this time? I know they’ve been teasing you about some crush. What is it?”

“Well, that said crush was here and I was talking to her and they came over. I told them to go away then Bruna took my shirt off of me and ran. They completely embarrassed me! I really like her and I just…” You don’t finish the sentence, tears welling in your eyes as your voice breaks.

“I’m gonna go home, bye Irene.” She tries to call out for you but you ignore her retreating to the change rooms and take a hot shower, to ease your thoughts.

Immediately afterwards, you notice the sympathetic looks from your older teammates, but choose to ignore them walking out of the room.

You get in your car, and drive away back to your house where no one can bother you. You were only 17, still finishing school and you live right next door to Irene. Who makes sure you have your shit together, despite objecting to it many times.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a lengthy conversation going on in the locker room after you had left

- - - - -

Irene’s voice blares through the room startling nearly everyone.

“Claudia, Patri, Jana, Bruna and Ona. You are all staying behind and we are going to have a little talk, got it? Salma you can also stay.” She says, everyone else goes back to doing their thing and immediately the girls know they’re in for it.

Everyone has filed out of the room, bar Alexia, Frido and those told to stay.

“I’m guessing you all know why I have you here, sí?”

They nod their heads.

“So, enlighten me why our teammate and friend has gone home very upset.” Irene makes a point to look at Bruna. But, it’s Salma who speaks up.

“They embarrassed her? I would just like to say I thought it was a stupid idea, I was right since we are standing here right now.” She folds her arms, trying to look tough.

“You may not have been this time, but you ALL have been teasing her all week. She had tears in her eyes and couldn’t even look at me. So each one of you will apologise.” Then Claudia speaks up.

“What about Asisat?” Frido answers the striker.

“She did much less damage, you will apologise and that’s it. That’s all you have to do.” The girls nod their heads meekly and then Alexia speaks up.

“Jana, Bruna. I expected better from both of you. Let this be a lesson for when things go too far. Patri, aren’t you old enough to not mingle with a teenagers love life?” Her jaw drops and solemnly nods.

“Ok then, if anyone is going to apologise. The best time is right now. Follow Irene and get it over with so she can’t hold something against you for a longer time than necessary.” Alexia finishes and then walks out with Frido.

- - - - -

You’re interrupted from your movie by knocking on your door. It’s 10pm, so options were limited. You find out when you open it that it’s Jana, Bruna, Ona, Salma, Patri and Claudia.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask skeptically.

“Well we felt bad, and after a scolding from Irene we thought we’d come apologise. Sorry that we embarrassed you in front of if your crush, and I’m sorry I took your shirt off.” Bruna says with an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok, thanks for stopping by.” You knew it was genuine, so you felt better now.

“We got you a little something though.” Ona states, matter-of-factly. Then she gives you the bag she’s holding which has 2 Winnie the pooh plushies (one of Eeyore and one of pooh reading a book to piglet), along with different snacks.

“This is… thanks guys. Thanks a lot.” You take a look at the plushies, staring at how cute the one is where Pooh is reading to piglet. (i have this irl if anyone wants a photo 🤷)

“So, did you get the girl amiga?” Jana asks. You nod.

“We’re gonna go out some other time, not sure when. But yeah should be fun.” You don’t know why you told them that but you have a little feeling that they won’t tease you about it this time. Not if Irene can stop it anyways.

“Well, we will get leaving. See you at recovery then Y/N.” Salma says.

“Bye guys, thanks again!” They all walk out and Irene walks in.

“Looks like my plan worked huh?” You smile.

“Thanks but really, I was fine.” She quirks an eyebrow.

“Really? Because you were almost crying Cariño. I just came to make sure they stuck to their word, and they did.” You nod.

“As for those chocolates, no eating until cheat day alright?” You rolls your eyes.

“Fine, can I finish my movie now?” She laughs.

“Sure, I’ll get back now, be safe. I love you, the team cares and if you are ever feeling down again. Or feel sad because of what teammates say. Do not hesitate to tell me.” You nod and whisper and thank you as she kisses the top of your forehead and leaves. You love this team, you really do.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #wlw #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #irene paredes #jana fernandez #claudia pina #ona batlle #bruna vilamala #salma paralluelo

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luvkypickle · 2 months

Text

the start ~ e.m. x reader

summary: When reader finds Eddie's lost notebook on the ground, who knew it would lead to a wonderful night? (lmk if you want a part 2??)

The bell just rang signaling the end of the school day. Eddie is standing with his friends at the front of the school. He stares at you while walking to your car. He hopes you catch his eye so he can wave at you.

"Eddie... Eddie!!"

"What? What?" Eddie snaps out of his haze and is now focused on Gareth and Jeff.

"You're staring like hardcore man, why don't you just go up and talk to her?" Gareth tells Eddie.

"Nah I don't wanna bother her. Maybe I'll say something tomorrow," Eddie replies looking down.

Jeff straightens up and says, "I just had the best idea! Why not invite her to our next concert?"

"She probably doesn't want to go..." Eddie looks down again.

"All right man, you do what you want but just stop staring at her and get the courage to talk to her for once!" Gareth says as him and Jeff walk away to go home. "We gotta go but we'll see you later."

Eddie waves as he starts walking to his van. As he's about to open the door he feels a tap on his shoulder. He flinches slightly as he turns around and his eyes land on you.

"Hi, I'm sorry if I scared you!" you say with a smile. "I saw this in the hallway when I was walking out so I figured I would pick it up to check to see whose it was and I didn't see a name but I saw the little drawings for Corroded Coffin and I remembered that I heard you were talking about that the other day and then I realized it was over by your locker so I figured it was yours!"

Eddie just looks at you dumbfounded as you just stand there speaking.

"Sorry for my rambling, that happens a lot, please just ignore it, but is it yours?" you quickly say.

You reach into your bag and pull out the notebook, holding it out as you were slightly blushing.

You make eye contact with him as he reaches out to grab the notebook.

"Yeah it's mine, thank you so much for grabbing it!" Eddie replies with a smile and your fingers brush together from grabbing the notebook.

You stand there for a minute before turning around. Before you get too far away then turn back around to face him.

"Corroded Coffin is your band right?" you ask with a tilted head.

"Oh.. yeah," Eddie says looking down, scratching the back of his head. "It's nothing big really, just a silly little band. We barely perform for anyone anyway."

"You guys perform in front of people? That's really cool! I'd love to come and see one of your shows?"

Eddie once again has a dumbfounded look on his face. You wanna come to one of his shows? He's ecstatic but doesn't want to show it too bad on the outside. He starts thinking of how you'd look watching him perform at the Hideout. Would he mess up or give the best performance of his life?

"I'd love if you came to one of my shows" Eddie finally snaps out of his thoughts and looks at you with his brown doe eyes. "We're actually performing tomorrow night at this place called the Hideout. It's really cool in there and since it's a Thursday night there won't be too many people there but I'd love to see your face in the audience."

You smile at him and nod, "that sounds perfect! Just give me a time and address and I'll be sure to get there!"

"Uhh here!" He says as he rips a piece of paper out of his notebook and grabs a pen from inside his van. He quickly scribbles the time, address, and a phone number on the paper.

"I, um, actually have band practice today so I have to get going but if you have any questions just give me a call later and I'll be sure to answer." he says as he hands over the piece of paper.

"Okay nice! Thank you Eddie, I'll see you later!" You say as you grab the paper and start walking to car. You look back and wave as Eddie waves back with a smile.

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

"Boys you'll never guess what happened," Eddie shouts as he walks into band practice.

"What, did you gawk at her more after we left and she gave you a smile?" Jeff asks with a smirk.

"Actually, I invited her to out show tomorrow night!"

"Woah no way man, nice job," Gareth says giving him a slap on the back. "What happened when we left?"

Eddie relays everything that happened to the boys as he sits there blushing and beaming. "And our hands brushed together AND she smiled at me... multiple times!"

"Well you better not mess up at all tomorrow" Jeff says as they all start to set up their instruments.

"I won't, I won't," Eddie stared into space while tuning his guitar.

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

The next day, once he gets home from school, he hears the phone ring.

"Hello?" Eddie asks as he picks up the phone.

"Hi Eddie! I'm so sorry to bother you right now, I'm not sure if you're getting ready but is there a dress code for your show?"

He feels himself blushing by just hearing your voice. He forgot he gave you his number.

"Oh hey! Yeah you're all fine! Um you can wear whatever you want, most people that come to our shows are just there for the bar but I think you'll look pretty in whatever you wear."

"Alright thank you! I'm so excited to see you perform, see you in a few hours!" You say trying to hide the smile that crept on your face.

"See you later, "Eddie says with a smile.

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

"So Eddie are you ready?" Jeff asked him as they set up their instruments on stage.

"Yeah I'm totally not freaking out right now," Eddie says, peaking through the curtain to spot your face.

It's finally time for their set to start, Eddie introduces the band and they start performing.

Once the set was over he finally spotted you. You waved at him as he started walking over.

"You did so good! Way better than I was expecting, you said it was just a silly band," You say with a smile as Eddie finally approached you.

"Thank you," Eddie smiled, scratching the back of his head. "I'm really glad you enjoyed."

"Do you normally do anything after your shows?" you asked.

"Well sometimes we just stay here and chat but we always have to pack up our equipment first." He replied.

"Oh okay," you say looking down.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh I was thinking maybe we could go get milkshakes or something? It's okay if not, I know it's kind of late and you're probably tired."

Eddie is starstruck with your question, "No yeah I'd love to but um..." He trails off looking at the boys who are already smirking and shooting him thumbs up as they overheard your whole conservation. "Okay yeah, did you wanna head out now?"

"Yeah! I rode my bike here though so I can just meet you at the diner?"

"No nonsense! We can just throw your bike in the back of my van and after I can take you home too." Eddie offered.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna keep you out any later than you have to be," you say with a frown.

"Yup everything's all good," He says smiling and leading you out the door. "Just point to your bike and we'll bring it to the van!"

You both find your bike and Eddie puts it in the back of his van. He then runs over to the passenger side and opens the door for you with a bow. You giggle and hop in as he shuts the door and runs to the driver side.

It's a ride of silence. But a comfortable silence.

Once you sit down in a booth, you take a quick look at the menu and decide you want to get a chocolate milkshake and mozzarella sticks.

"Do you wanna split some mozzarella sticks?" you ask, looking up from the menu.

"Yeah sure, I love mozzarella sticks!" Eddie replies with a smile. "What kind of shake are you thinking of getting? I was thinking chocolate."

"I was thinking the same thing actually!" You almost shout.

The waitress comes up asking what you want and Eddie orders for the both of you. After some small talk, your food and shakes come. It was a wonderful night of talking and laughing with Eddie. Unfortunately it had to come to an end when you realized how late it was getting.

After telling Eddie your address, he starts to take you home.

"I had a really good time tonight," you say as he helps you get your bike out the trunk.

"Me too. We should do something like this again?" He says, shyly looking down.

"I would love that! Just shoot me a call whenever! Bye Eddie!"

Before walking away, you placed a kiss on Eddie's cheek. He stands with his hand placed on his cheek staring at you walking towards your door.

"I'll call you tomorrow!" He shouts before getting in his van after you stepped into your house.

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

note: should I make a part 2?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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fairyhaos · 10 months

Text

❖ take care of me anyway // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: office worker!jeonghan not rlly relevant to the plot tho, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: brief fever-induced hallucinations ig?? but theyre rlly cute, pet names, reader has a cold

notes: im sick. like, 'i have a cold' sick. and i also have another sick fic planned so uhh yeah im a little Unwell in the head too

There are ten minutes left of Jeonghan’s lunch break when you finally call him.

“Hello, my darling,” he says, his tone both parts dry and amused. “How are you?”

“Sick,” you reply, and even just that word sounds horribly bunged up. “But you knew that already, didn’t you? You called in sick for me.”

Jeonghan just hums, smiling a little as he adjusts the phone against his ear, walking down the street back to his company building. “Maybe I did.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and he can almost hear you pouting on the other end of the line. There’s a rustling sound as you adjust yourself in bed, and he sighs.

“How sick are you?”

“Very,” you say, miserably, and then give a series of harsh, wet coughs that has him wincing. “Very sick. I only just woke up, but my head is just…” You don’t finish your sentence. Just make a very pained sound like a wounded puppy.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Gee, I wonder how you managed to get so sick. It’s not like walking home in the pouring rain without a coat makes you ill, isn’t it?”

You whine at that, upset. “Han, I told you, I was gonna call you but my phone was dead. I had no choice! Wanted to get home fast to see you,” you add in a mumble, sounding dejected.

He smiles at that. “It wasn’t like I was going anywhere, though,” he points out. “I was all comfortably squished on the couch. I wasn’t gonna disappear any time soon. You could’ve taken your time. Waited for the rain to pass.”

“Yeah, but still,” you huff petulantly, then sniff. “Can you make soup when you get back home?” you ask after a beat, and sniffle again. “And also buy some tissues? And meds? And give me cuddles?”

Jeonghan chuckles at how pitiful you sound, resisting the urge to coo. “No.”

“What?” You’re whining again, and you sound all bunged up but Jeonghan just smiles, amused. “But your darling Y/N is currently suffering the worst cold in the entire world.”

“But alas, I think my darling Y/N is the sole person to blame for this cold,” Jeonghan says, lips twitching upwards. “Don't you think so?”

“Come take care of me anyway.”

“No.”

You make a noise of discontent, sheets rustling as you shift around in bed again. “Hmph. Worst boyfriend ever. I’m breaking up with you.”

That makes him laugh, the stunned sound being pulled out of him by your deadpan tone, and he grins to himself out on the street, rounding the corner until his company building is in sight. “Whatever you say,” he singsongs. “I’ll see later, okay?”

“Whatever. Bye.” A pause. “Have a nice day.”

Jeonghan smiles as you hang up, looking fondly down at your contact name. He’s standing in front of the company entrance, now, and he has three minutes of his break left. Just enough time to get into the elevator and up to his office.

He pockets his phone, turns on his heel and traipses off to find the nearest pharmacy.

───────────── 🧂

You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep the entire day, constantly stuck in that drowsy, so-sick-that-nothing-feels-real state, and you’ve hallucinated Jeonghan coming home a total of thirteen times in the past five hours.

At least, you think it’s been five hours.

Maybe it’s been less than that.

Whatever. Time is weird.

The point is, your mind is all fuzzy and everything feels like it’s floating, so when someone who looks an awful lot like Jeonghan comes into the room, you just groan. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 has come to pay you a visit, it seems, so you just frown and give him the response that you’ve given all his other clones.

“Go away. Stop trying to sell me fish.”

Hallucination Jeonghan #14 makes a confused noise at that, walking closer to your bed, leaning over to adjust your pillows and pull you up into a more upright position.

“I don’t want your fish,” you say, just in case he didn’t hear you the first time. “Stop it.”

That makes the hallucination chuckle, and his hand comes up to your forehead.

Cold. Huh. None of the other hallucinations touched you before.

His hand drops from your forehead, swiping at the soft skin under your eyes gently, and his fingers are blessedly cool against your skin. You hadn’t realised how much you were burning up before.

“You’re really, really sick,” Hallucination Jeonghan #14 murmurs, and he sounds so concerned, before pulling out a bottle of water from one of the plastic bags he’s holding. Woah, you hadn’t even realised he was holding them. “Here, darling. Drink.”

You obediently take a sip once he uncaps the lid for you, before making small noises of distress when some of it spills down your shirt. Hallucination Jeonghan #14 (wow was it a mouthful to say, even in your head) just hushes you gently, dabbing at it with tissues that he’d procured from the plastic bags.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and his hands take yours, clasping them around the bottle. Once you’re holding it, he gets up, and for a horrible moment, you think this hallucination is going to leave again. You kind of like this one.

“Where’re you going?” you ask, but it comes out as more of a slur of vowels. You’re not sure he understood a word.

“Drink up,” is all he says. He fishes out a packet of pills from the bag (it’s like a magic bag, you think blearily. It seems to have everything inside it). “Have these as well, okay? I’ll go make that soup you wanted.”

You nod, blinking. Dutifully, you sip the water that the hallucination has left you, because really this was one of the most gentle, doting, Jeonghan-like Hallucination Jeonghan and it kind of feels like he really does have your best interests at heart.

Unlike the other Hallucination Jeonghans, who just wanted to sell you fish. This one really seemed to care about your well-being.

You blink again, slowly.

Oh.

By the time Jeonghan comes back with a gently steaming bowl of chicken soup on a tray with a mug of tea, you're more lucid than before, pouting at him as he comes closer, having remembered his last words before you’d hung up the phone.

“You said you weren’t going to take care of me.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, setting the tray on the bedside table, before sitting down on the edge of your bed, wordlessly picking up the bowl and spoonfeeding you some soup. You open your mouth easily, and he hums in approval with a smile.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my darling be sick all alone, hm?” he says. “I can’t do that. Especially if you’re also seeing hallucinations of me who are trying to sell you fish.”

He continues feeding you soup in tiny sips, and the entire situation feels weirdly vulnerable, with you propped up on pillows and Jeonghan making small noises of approval every time you successfully swallow a spoonful. Like you’re a little baby bird, or something.

But he smiles so lovingly at you the entire time, so it’s kind of hard to feel too embarrassed.

“Well done,” Jeonghan murmurs, once you’ve finished half of the bowl. Your boyfriend is affectionate, almost overbearingly so at times, always poking you in the side or pinching your cheeks or tweaking your nose, but the softness with which he treats you right now is a whole other level of affection entirely.

Jeonghan cares deeply for you. You know that. You’ve never doubted how much he loves you, and he never gives you reason to doubt it. But still, when he smooths down your hair and strokes the back of your hand and gazes at you so gently, it makes you realise yet again that oh God, he loves you.

“We’re going to get you to finish the rest of the soup in a minute,” he says, reaching down towards the plastic bag at his feet, “but first. I wanted you to have this.”

Out of the bag, he pulls out…

A fluffy bunny plushie.

You blink, tilting your head, sniffing in confusion and also to try and unblock your bunged up nose. “What?”

“Say hi to Jjongie,” Jeonghan says. “He came up to me when I was buying your soup, and I couldn’t not bring him home.” The bunny’s pink ears flop adorably into its eyes as he holds out the soft toy to you. It even has a cream coloured ribbon around its neck. “He’s gonna keep you company whenever I can’t be here for you.”

“Oh,” you say softly, taking Jjongie from him with a smile. You rub your thumb over the soft fur of the bunny’s cheek. “He’s adorable.”

Jeonghan beams, proud. “Of course he is. He’s a me-substitute.”

You look up at him, smiling. “Han, I—” You can’t finish your sentence, too choked up. Literally. You suddenly start coughing, hand coming up to cover your mouth, and Jeonghan rushes forward with the mug of tea and an opened box of tissues that he suddenly procured out of nowhere.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to cry over it,” he says teasingly as you glare at him, eyes tearing up from how hard you’re coughing. You accept the tissues and, when he pushes the tea insistently in you direction, you take the mug too.

“Yeah, yeah.” You blow your nose with one hand and then drink the tea, noting with a smile the subtle notes of honey in it. “Thank you,” you add, softly, looking down at Jjongie in your lap. Jeonghan really has gone out of his way for you.

Jeonghan just shakes his head, picking up the soup bowl again. “Thank me once you get better,” he says. “You can take care of me after. I’ll probably be catching your illness from looking after you.”

You grin, blowing your nose again, and even you can’t miss the way that Jeonghan watches you, eyes devastatingly fond.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna look after me anyways, aren’t you?”

Jeonghan grins, unashamedly bright. He taps the spoon against your lips, smiling wider when you sip the soup, the mug of tea in your hands, Jjongie the bunny in your lap.

“Duh. I love you too much not to.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

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miserycanary · 4 months

Text

MISSION: LOVE KILL ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]

pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU.

pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on

The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it.

‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’

It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs.

Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that.

When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that!

“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.”

It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.

Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it.

“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems.

If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.

“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.

With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.

Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway.

Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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