#ok this turned into a full on rant on him

[the-busy-ghost]

Me normally: Let people love what they love

Me, after a Test Match Special commentator expresses their belief that the new All Creatures Great and Small is somehow "better" than the 1978 version: This is pure insanity and TMS can no longer be trusted on anything, how can they even be trusted to know about cricket, do they have no TASTE

[pixiedust-poppers]

If you would’ve told my younger self there were more Jizzy non-shippers now she would’ve been ecstatic and then promptly disappointed as to the reasonings of why lol.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[valsdelulucorner]

Floyd Head cannons<3

Floyd loves finding his little shrimp hanging out with their friend group or doing work in class, it makes his day. He normally runs over and pushes whoever is talking to you out of the way as he flings himself at you, squeezing you tightly in his arms before scurrying off like nothing happened, leaving you and your company very confused.

Hes 100% the type of guy to say "this ones for you" and completely miss the basketball hoop, instead hauling the ball at one of his teammates while looking so incredibly proud

To be honest if you came to twisted wonderland as a rock climber or a sprinter, he would have the time of his life chasing you around. He's never seen someone as fast as his little shrimpy, you actually give him a challenge. Can you imagine his shock if you just start to sprint up a tree or the side of the wall on campus. You catch his attention originally by climbing somewhere high to pull grim out of a tree, or even seeing you sprint by to try and reach class before the bell rings. You give him a challenge, it intrigues him

Because your a rock climber, your strong right? Imagine your just walking with your normal group before feeling something heavy lunge at you and hold onto you in the piggy back position. You can easily keep him held up right and he will just be a giggling mess, your friends worried for you as floyd remains completely supported on your back. They eventually call jade and azul and they are also shocked to see you just standing calmly, having a floyd full on bear hugging you with all four of his limbs. Maybe you would be a good security person in the Monstro lounge

If you were scared of him, his reaction would depend on how much he likes you. If he only likes to bother you every now and then, not trying to actually start a conversation or a friendship with you, he would 100% use this to his advantage, having you do things for him and azul

If he cares about you alot more, finding you interesting and wanting to be your friend, he would be so very pouty and probably ask you straight up if you actually like him or just hang out with him because your scared of him. If he is head over heals for you or if he sees that its actually bothering you badly, he will try his best to gain your trust better and have you not scared of him. It isnt fun if his little shrimpy avoids him because of his games

Ok hear me out, if Floyd gets to overwhelmed or just far to overstimulated, he turns back into his eel-mer form, just complaining and not wanting to be bothered. If you are with Floyd or if he trusts you a lot like a best friend, you might be able to comfort him in this state. Octavinelle has some massive tanks around its dorm so you will most likely be able to find him there swimming around in his true form. be careful when approaching the top of the tank, if you aren't careful he might try and pull you in. If you guys are dating or if you both are close, he will full on lunge himself at you and squeeze you, resting against you as his lower half remains in the water. Prepare to have some numb legs because you will not be able to pry him off until he stops ranting, you will leave when he feels like it shrimpy

Study dates normally end up as literally anything else dates. You guys are studying together to make sure you guys pass the upcoming exam? He will grow board and probably either lean against you or start making paper airplanes to throw at you. Its boring shirmpy!

Once he starts to fall for you, he will be confused why his heart beats so fast around you when you smile or laugh at him. Your defiantly not a threat, he can easily overpower you. He isn't scared of you, there is nothing about you that is intimidating to him. so why is his heart beating this quickly? He will go to Azul and Jade and just mope around, telling them that he feels funny whenever your around. Jade chuckles as he explains to floyd why he feels like that, azul just looks annoyed as they are both now slacking from their job

He likes that your quite calm around him unlike the other people he normally goes off to bother, you actually can be around him for long periods of time without making him board or annoyed?! He will never say it or even admit it to himself but he really appreciates you more then he knows, he likes having his little shrimpy around

I like the head cannon that floyd does something similar to teething, he has all of his teeth but he likes chewing on things that stimulate his mouth and teeth. He likes different types of food and stuff that he can just chew on. Calamari, mints, gum, chewy meats, carrots, really cheesy foods, so many different types of noodles, heck! even some types of edible coral. If he doesn't have anything around him to use, he will chew on your cheeks. He wont make you bleed necessarily, he Justs like to have that mouth stimulation

Calls you "shrimpy" "guppy" "Koebi chan" "Little shrimp"

I feel like he is the type of person to sit and lay in the most random poses during the most random times. Your in ramshackle together? His legs are folded together in the air while he lays on his back, arms splayed out as he just talks to you like its normal.

When the octo-trio first saw grass, jade and azul had to hold floyd back from taking a bite out of the grass

He loves to cuddle you when you two are alone, even deciding to cuddle you in public. He loves holding you in his arms while he rests his face against your neck, having your chin rest on top of his head while you play with his hair. In public, he will be more modest and probably just sit next to you and rest his head on you, he likes lettng the other little guppies see that your his

Floyd loves to randomly steal you away, picking you up easily before dragging you to the monstro lounge for some drinks and food

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this was abit different to my other fics and im sorry if it isnt that good. This was difficult to write because im in abit of a writers rut right now, but im enjoying the way it turned out! He was fun to write about but i do think i could have done better

Who should i do next?

[aether-bun]

Dating headcanons for dead plate Vince and rody??? (Seperate)

DEAD PLATE BOYFRIENDS!!

Ok. Ok. The chokehold these two have me in is something that needs to be studied actually. Utterly thrilled that I get to write for them. Thank you so much Anon.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Talks of aggression, NSFW if you squint

Reader is gender neutral ♡

VINCENT is subtly affectionate being your boyfriend.

I think it's obvious that Vincent is very cold, inside and out, even if it isn't intentional

Little does the outside world know, however, he's very affectionate with you!

Behind closed doors, he finds small ways to be in contact with you

Knees touching, pinkies grazing, shoulders bumping, the works

It's not that he's afraid or repulsed by full on affection, it's just more comfortable for him to act the way he does. It means he can recharge without being away from you, but without overwhelming himself

I think he's a very big fan of chaste kisses, or at least giving them. Whenever he receives such rushed notes of affection, he refuses to admit it, but it leaves him with a sense of yearning :(

Adores hand kisses holy shit

I like to hc that he has a little lemon tree somewhere that he takes care of with such enthusiasm it's wild

The one thing you can't touch in his apartment is that tree. Hard boundary.

When he comes upstairs after work, he's usually very tired

This means that you both tend to just quietly enjoy each other's presence until he falls asleep in bed

Some days he's REALLY tired.

One of the chefs fucked up a batch so badly that it pushed service back by an additional 40 minutes while he had someone run supplies

It cost him a lot. That chef was brutally torn into and promptly told to never come back. Very unprofessional, but no one would say much about it.

Very exhausting lesson in hiring better employees in Vince's eyes.

That night he just laid down on your thighs and ranted. He doesn't tend to talk much for too long out of personal preference but that night he couldn't shut himself up.

You just gently combed through his hair and listened

The sensations soothed him and he got over the anger fairly well

(now he lays on your thighs some nights just to score some extra nice attention)

Dates are always very lavish, it's his personal favourite thing to spoil you. He always has a hand on you during outings of any kind.

Will pull you closer if anyone stares at you.

Gentle with you, in every possible situation, but firm

He really just doesn't want anyone to hurt you, but on top of that, he couldn't bear the ache he'd feel to see you look at someone else the way you look at him

Slut for calling you "Mine". End of discussion.

RODY is hellbent on giving you the whole world.

Loves loves LOVES cuddles

You cannot get this man off of you he is so clingy

He wants what's best for you and more this man will break limbs for you

I will say you were probably originally going to be a rebound relationship

After Manon, he found you, but it had barely been a month and he was clearly desperate for love

He was honest about Manon and the recent breakup, and in turn, you were honest about your returned feelings for him, but you very firmly said he'd have to move on first

It took a long time. You waited.

When he did get better, you two hit it off! He cared for you and you looked out for him

Your dates are walks through the park, café breakfasts and movie nights

Rody is a big fan of kisses

He kisses you and you can feel his love pouring through them, he deepens the kisses like he's starved, even though you're more than affectionate with each other all the time

Service top or complete bottom. Not because he's dainty bc he definitely isn't. He just loves you so much he wants you to have everything. He lives to serve you at this point let's be so real

Learned how to budget for you!!!! Whoa!!!!!!!!

I think Rody dances with you all the time

Rain or shine, dawn or dusk, happy or sad, he finds it nice to dance with you

It calms him

He gives the BEST MASSAGES IDC

Butterfly kisses and nose kisses are this man's kryptonite. He will cry. He has before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey!!!! Sorry for the random hiatus, life killed me a little, but I'm back and raring to go! Dragon Anon, if you're reading this, I am working on your req but I'm making sure I actually know the DLC this time so it's taking a while to get through the content. Bear with me!!!

Sorry if these were a little sloppy, getting back into writing is a lil difficult but I'm working as best I can. I hope you enjoyed, and remember to leave your requests in my inbox!

Ciao for now~

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Heyy! I’m new here and I absolutely love your writings wksiwksjwjshe is your 300 event still open?

if yes I would love to req a cinnamon + poplar ! hehe thank you! (If it’s already closed then don’t mind me)

*HI sorry this took forever! But I hope you love it ;) Ace is such a filthy boy in this one, EYE certainly enjoyed it*

Pairing: Ace x Fem Reader

WC: 2200

Prompt: “Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…” 

TW: SEX, shameless flirting in public, Ace being kind of a pervert, reader is a bit older than young buck Ace, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't) creampie (also don't) fingering, teasing, pet names, filthy language. the usual?

— — 

You sat at your desk in the medical ward of the ship, up to your ears in paperwork. Blood test results to log, supply order forms to go over, you had so much on your plate and it was eating away at you. The rest of the crew was in the galley drinking but you were stuck working. 

Suddenly the door to the med bay swings open and in waltzes the crew’s head doctor. 

“Ok little chicken, that’s enough work for tonight.” Marco smiles warmly at you as he approaches your desk. 

“Please stop calling me that." You sigh and rub your eyes. "And I still have more releases to sign off on, and the IV tubing we use for Dad is on backorder, so I have to decide if we go up a size or down a size and did you know-“ You ramble on and on while Marco rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll handle it. Go out and have a drink.” Marco eyes your tired face. “Gods know you need it, kiddo.” 

You sigh. You feign a smile as you rise from your desk chair, the joints in your back and knees popping from how long you had been sitting. 

“Was… was that your back?” Marco asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. Shut up.” You say as you push your way out of the med bay. You follow the sounds of music and riotous laughter towards the galley and enter quietly. You slunk between the groups of pirates towards the center of the room and grab a beer from the barrel full of ice. You pull your cigarette lighter out of your pocket and use it to pop the cap off your beer. You stow the lighter back into your pocket. 

“Hey, y/n! Over here!” 

You turn around and see a somewhat intoxicated Ace waving you over to his table. He had that stupid, goofy grin on his face. You smiled back and headed in his direction. He was standing around a wooden table with Thatch, Izou and a few other Whitebeard pirates and nurses. 

“Jeez y/n you look like you’ve been up for a week.” Ace teases you. 

“I think I have, now that you mention it…” You say and take a sip of your beer. 

“Man I haven’t seen you this down before, y/n. What the hell is going on with you?” Izou asks. 

“Well, since you’ve asked! I’m exhausted. I’m bored. I’m stressed. I can’t tell if I want 5 more beers or to fall asleep on the floor! I am wildly overworked and under-fucked.” You finish your rant and slam your beer. 

“Anyone else need another one?” You ask to the now silent group of people that surrounded you at the table. You were met with mostly blank stares, shocked at your sudden outburst. You turn and head to grab a new beer. 

“I’ll come with you!” Ace is quick to join with a mischievous smirk on his lips. 

He follows you like a puppy as you head towards the beer. 

“You know I can help you with that, right?” Ace grabs your arm and pulls you to face him. 

You laugh. 

“I don’t really think Marco would trust you enough to run my blood tests for me, but thanks.” 

“No no, the other part. The being under-fucked part.” Ace smirks down at you. Again, you laugh. 

“Haha, oh yeah? What are you, like 23? Like you’d know what to do with it if you had a chance.” You smile playfully and wiggle out of his grip, finally retrieving another beer. Ace does the same and sidles close behind you on your way back to the table. Suddenly Ace’s breath is hot in your ear as he leans in to whisper something to you. 

“Well I’ve got an 8 inch cock that might change your mind on that…” You stop dead in your tracks and your eyes widen. 

“Wha-?”

Ace passes by you and goes to join the table again. “Only if you want, though! Come on, let’s have another drink!” Ace beckons you over like he hadn’t just whispered the most crude, filthy thing in your ear 30 seconds ago. 

Convincing yourself you had imagined it, you snap out of your trance and return to the table to drink. 

You enjoy a few more rounds of drinks and you notice with each beer, Ace slides his body closer and closer to yours. You could attribute this to the size of your party shrinking as people headed off to bed, but at this point he was basically pressing his side into yours, occasionally grazing his warm hand over your hip. 

His touch was fleeting, but hot… it made you crave more. You found yourself leaning into him and he pulled you closer in return. He felt you shudder. 

“Oh man, y/n, you must really be tired. Do you need help getting back to your room okay?” Ace looks down at you with a devious smirk.  You knew what he was really asking.. and you were far too quick to respond. 

“Yes, I think I’d like that, Ace.” You smile and he wraps his arm around your hip and pulls you away from the table. 

Ace is all but giggling as he brings you back to your room, pinching and squeezing your skin anywhere he could tease it. He stops at your door and looks at you expectantly. 

You laugh. 

“Would you like to come inside, Ace?” 

“Hell yeah!” Ace practically jumps into your room behind you and slams the door shut. 

From the instant the door is closed, Ace’s lips are on yours. You barely had time to react to the kiss before he started tugging at your clothes. You laugh and pull back from the kiss. 

“Haha slow down!  We have all night Ace… I’m not going anywhere.” You purr at him and stroke his cheek. What a sweet, eager little thing he was. 

Ace nuzzles himself into your neck and plants a wet kiss. 

“‘M’sorry, just hate seeing you like this…” Ace continued licking and biting at your neck. You whimper. “Gonna fix it… gonna make you feel so good, baby.” 

Your cunt clenched in anticipated of what he was about to do to your body. Ace pulls your dress over your head and tosses it to the floor. He distracts you with more kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you. Ace kisses down to your stomach and gently pulls your panties down. You step out of them and realize you’re completely bare in front of your friend. 

You covered your breasts instinctively. Those doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, who was coming up to meet your eye again. He pulls your arm gently away from your chest and smiles. 

“Aww are you shy, baby?” Ace coos at you. You blush so hard you think your face might be on fire. Why was he having this affect on you? He was a young blowhard at least 5 years your junior, and yet he ended up with all of the control in this situation…

“That’s ok, come here…” Ace gets on your bed and sits up with his back against the pillows and headboard. “Let me show you why you don’t need to be shy.” He smirks and holds out his arms to you. 

You lick your lips and climb into Ace’s waiting lap. He positions you with your back again his chest, sitting between his legs. This position reminded you how Ace was still fully clothed and you were completely naked. Something about being so vulnerable in front of him was intoxicating… 

“Spread your legs, sugar. Show me that cute pussy.” Ace whispers in your ear as he pulls your legs over his own, spreading them as far as they could go comfortably. 

“Ace…” You whimper quietly, trying to turn your head away. You were embarrassed at how aroused he had made you, all while barely touching you… but not nearly embarrassed enough to ask him to stop. 

Ace wastes no time before his hands are on your dripping sex. 

“Holy shit…” Ace glides a finger up and down your slit. “Look at how wet you are, pretty.” His one finger turns to two fingers as he collects more of your slick from your hole and brings it up to rub firm circles onto your clit. 

“Ace! Fuck!” You throw your head back, body feeling like it was filled with static electricity. He had you so worked up that every little touch felt like it was amplified by 100. 

“You’re so wet that I bet I could just slip my fingers in..” Ace smirks and swiftly plunges the two digits into your hole. You moan. “And I bet that if I do this…” Ace begins to firmly pull and tap his fingers into that delicious spot inside of your cunt. “… you’ll cum.” 

“Shit, fuck, Ace! O-oh my- Ah! ACE!” You cry out and explode all over Ace’s arm and the bed in front of you. 

“Looks like I was right, huh baby? That’s a good girl, give it all to me.” Ace playfully reacts as he rubs at your clit to prolong your orgasm. 

“Fuck… Ace…” You lay heaving on your bed in Ace’s arms, the spasms from your climax finally ceasing. 

You feel Ace smiling into your neck as he peppers it with sweet kisses. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do with it, huh???” He chuckles into your damp skin. 

“Shut up and fuck me already.��� You roll your eyes. 

Ace gently moves you out from between his legs and he rises from the bed to remove his vest and shorts. You audibly gasp at the sight of his huge member springing free from its confines. 

“Jeez you weren’t kidding…” You say softly, eyes not leaving Ace’s cock in front of you. 

“I’m a pirate, baby, not a liar.” He flashes you that stupid grin again. “Now face down, ass up, sugar.” 

You quickly oblige, grabbing a pillow to cushion your face that was now stained with mascara. The first thing you feel is a warm hand sliding up your spine and massaging your skin, then you feel the prodding of Ace’s thick cock at your sopping wet entrance, the heavy mushroom tip barely breaching your hole. Ace dipped his tip teasingly in and out… 

“Ace…. please…” You whine as you push your hips back to entice him to fully enter you. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you, you don’t ever need to beg for me, pretty.” Ace plants both hands on your hips and pulls your ass flush against his pelvis, sinking his cock as deep as it will go into you. 

Strangled moans leave the both of you as he bottoms out. Ace pulls out slowly, looking down to admire the wet mess you’ve already left on his cock. He pushes back in and you moan again, squeezing him involuntarily. 

“Gods you were right… this tight little pussy is under-fucked.” Ace speeds up his thrusts and you gasp, the wind nearly knocked out of you. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make sure that never happens to you again… gonna fuck you every day… make you feel so fucking good…” 

Ace was slamming into you at an animalistic pace and you felt a second orgasm creeping up on you. You could feel the droplets of sweat from Ace’s face splatter on your back, as well as the crazed, possessive grip on your hips almost certainly leaving bruises. You couldn’t form words, only broken sobs and shrieks as your lover drilled into you, dead set on making you cum again. 

Tears fell from your eyes against the pillow and you whined, so close to reaching your peak again. 

“Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…” Ace coos at you. “Cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up, ‘kay sugar?” Ace leans forward and presses his chest to you as he continues his brutal assault on your pussy. He reaches one hand from your hip down and around to rub at your clit. The stimulation sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips through your whole body. “Ace!” You scream out and lurch forward, no longer able to hold your torso up with your arms anymore. 

“Good fucking girl! Now I’m gonna make you mine…” Ace praises you. 

You try to mumble out “please” but you truly have no idea if you were saying anything coherent.

“Haaa, fuck!” Ace cries out and spills his load impossibly deep into your warm hole. You whimper as you feel rope after rope of Ace’s hot seed filling you. Ace rubs firm circles into your hips as he calms down from his release. 

Suddenly, Ace pulls out of you and flops back into your bed and pulls you to his chest. You nuzzle into his sweaty pecs as you throw a leg over his hips. Ace pulls the blanket over the two of you, briefly leaning upwards to make sure your whole body was covered and comfortable before settling back on the pillows. 

“So you were serious?” You ask quietly. 

“About what, baby?” Ace answers as he strokes your hair. 

“About fucking me every day?” You chuckle. 

“Mmhmm…” Ace kisses the top of your head. “Tomorrow. And the next day.. and the next day… and the next day… and the next… and…” 

You hear Ace start snoring and smile. 

xx 

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“A weird Simp” — Geto Suguru

Synopsis: not much can be done when your crush doesn’t reciprocate your feelings—unless, he does, but then, what if he’s bad at projecting it out? Why, make him jealous ofc

— A/n: idk, it was rushed, it was sudden, it is what it is and you take what I give ya— @romiyaro please help. Satoru is a wingman here tho so!!

— word count: 1k

— warnings: nothing? Slight angst to fluff? Reader and satoru make Suguru jealous? Unestablished relationship; not proof read idk

You stared at him in the periphery— stoic, stagnant, unreachable at the moment.

It had taken a morning full of encouragement and planning, slow inhales and sharp exhales—55th rehearsal of the 43rd conversation that you had planned in your head—only to bump into him carelessly.

“Oh- S-Geto! Hey, sorry!” Eyes not even reaching up to meet his, you mindlessly pushed yourself away—ears burning so hot that his words were a quick blur.

“Geto…are you free this weekend?”

A pause slapped your face, hard—his laugh, on something Haibara said, came to a sudden pause.

“No,” the response was swift, as if not a single thought behind it—your heart ached.

A bite of your lower lip, “what is it?” haibara’s words snapped you out close, “just two tickets,” you mumbled, “to this concert but oh..”

the bite of you lip only got harder as he, Suguru, scoffed, maybe, you weren’t sure—“I’ll be busy with Satoru on the weekend so..”

“Yeah, it is fine.”

It wasn’t—Satoru had the third ticket—Satoru couldn’t have had plans with Suguru at all, it was anything but fine.

“I swear he hates me,” you mumbled, head hanging low in your hands—a grin Satoru let out, knowing all the better.

“No he doesn’t,” your back remained turned to all that was forward, facing Satoru as you continued your rant—hushed words that came out in a frenzy as you walked towards class.

“What would you know—have you seen how he looks at me? And the casual way he lies?” A ridiculous expression lay painted on your face.

And answer to that question, Satoru had—but he knew all so perfectly that not a single particle in you would believe Suguru himself if he ever told you just how many times, and the way he saw you.

“No he doesn’t,” another groan that you pertained—“but he does,” exaggerated your hand expressions, flying across as you talked to Satoru—the little frown was finally turning up to the smile he adored—and his smirk widening as his eyes caught the bigger picture.

For right behind you, walked Suguru head stuck into the iPod—the one you gifted him with much regard—and you walked towards him too, head stuck within thoughts of him.

“Bet he thought I was such an idiot for bumping into him this morning- I’ll tell how it happened—I was walking thinking about this one mission and then I just turned like this and- shit!”

And just like hours ago, that you’d bumped into Suguru Geto, once again, your body collided with his, both of your hands reaching out to massage the afflicted areas.

“Shit- Geto, I- I’m so sorry I-”

“It’s ok,” his words brushed you off, a side glance parted, an eye roll as his hands brushed off negligible dust off of himself.

Your face burned as he did so, another apology at the tip, ready to roll off when- “watch while you’re walking- don’t want you bumping into me like that,”

Satoru groaned at the last he didn’t mention, because he knew all so well that later that night, it would him who’d have you listen to Suguru’s rant about just how you’re perceptible to hurting yourself.

And the apology just vanished straight up—the spot taken by embarrassment all the more as Satoru’s giggle fell on your ears, the moment Suguru left.

“Guess ya fell for him huh?”

Satoru thought the joke was funny—but his smirk fell off all the same when your friend greeted him.

“Oh cmon, it’s alright-”

“It’s not,” a shake of your head—“does he actually despise me so much?”

Oh, but he didn’t, but oh, only Satoru would accept that.

“He’s an idiot y/n, and so are you,” and at his words, the frown only ever deepened.

“Don’t look like that,” his eyes scanned his watch—5 minutes till class—“C’mere I’ll teach ya a lil something,”

Very frankly, you were sure that Satoru’s plan would not work out—in fact, it was a total bummer if anything.

“Ignore Suguru,” he’d mumbled, after wasting all the five minutes he’d spared, bragging of how the perfect wingman would always be him.

Ignore Suguru—how does one ignore the person who’s already ignoring them?

The plan was stupid, however worse could your relation with Suguru get?

Right?

“You want lunch Toru?” Your words rang in his head.

“You want coffee Toru?” Your words swarmed his head.

“You want a break Toru?” Your words terrorised his head.

Seemingly you wanted nothing but Toru.

And it just so happened, Toru seemed to want you because everytime—with the biggest grin Satoru would nod and follow you out like a puppy, despite Suguru and his annoyed glances and the shake of his head.

A sharp sigh he let out, eyeing the two of you, it’s been two days since—two days that Suguru had held his silence.

“Toru, pass me the notebook please,” Suguru didn’t even bother looking down, he knew the notebook was closer to him—he wouldn’t bother.

A long hand reached out, swiping the notebook away from Suguru—and you—“how was the concert?” He finally asks, just for the sake of it, for the sake of something—it was fine, he supposed, if you wouldn’t talk, he would.

“It was fun.”

The response lay cold, unfinished but he knew that was all you had to offer—as you’d been offering for the past two days.

Suguru wasn’t sure to why he was so bothered, I mean, sure he was into you but life always gets in the way and that’s fine— but then, the fact also lay that life didn’t get in the way for you and Satoru being together, just with Suguru.

Just when you didn’t wish him a good time whenever you’d spot him anymore, or hold out a seat for him during snack breaks—offer him pieces either—life just got in the way when your smiles towards him fretted to none—but not when you hugged and shared your half of everything to Satoru instead.

He was being dramatic—but then he wanted you to notice him too.

The way you always do.

“How- uh, how was the, you know, encore or some shit?” It was cute, honestly, the slight shake in his voice—the glare at Satoru’s giggle and the way his eyes danced to find yours.

“It was cool, Satoru you want some frozen yogurt?”

And the white haired guy only nodded with a shit eating grin, “I’d uh- I’d like some too,” Suguru chimed the moment you stood up, he knew it was his chance.

“Congrats?” You added, biting back the smirk at his slightly shocked expression at your wording, but Suguru was deliberate, “yeah,” he mumbled, following you all the same.

Satoru watched quietly, watching the two of you walk away—“two days is all he lasts without her? Simp.”

The two of you stood in silence, watching the machine dispense the froyo—all too slow, the tension only ever thickened.

“So uh, you into gojo?”

Your eyes were wide—ears burning, “what?” An echo, Suguru let out at your expression—“I just…thought, it was a date that day wasn’t it?”

You stared at him, date?

The only date you wanted was with him, only to be rejected all so quick—“I also invited you though,” you mumbled quietly, he nodded—his mind just as relevant a mess.

“So…it wasn’t?”

“What’s it to you?”

Silence, not so awkward as always—“maybe because…well, I know it is weird but, maybe we could-”

“Are you nervous?” You wore the biggest smirk, you should’ve been better but oh boy, were you over the moon—and in the moment Suguru wanted nothing but to kiss that damn smirk away.

“Only around you,” he scoffed—“is that why you-”

“Yeah,” he bit his lips now—eyes nervously flitting onto yours, “I just…didn’t know how to…”

“Satoru calls you a weird simp for all of it.”

Needless to say, he did score that date with you.

All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[girliism]

girl dad!art hasn’t had to stay home only with your daughters since she’s been born so when he sees you getting ready for a night out he’s confused.

“where on you going?” art stands behind at your vanity. “tashi invited me out and i haven’t been out since the bean was born so.” you shrugged retouching your lipstick. art follows behind you while you pack your purse. “is your mom coming over to watch bean?” you tell him he is and watch him freeze up.

art loves his daughter but watching her alone without you. what if something goes wrong. “baby, you’ll be fine. it’s almost ten and she’s been fed all you need to do is change her then put her to sleep.” you reassure him. “oh and remember to warm up the bottle under hot water. she likes to hold it herself while someone rocks her to sleep.” you kiss your daughter and art goodbye heading out to tashi’s car.

“alright looks like it’s just you and me bean.” art picked her up the two of them smiling at each other his full mouth of teeth and her five tiny ones. three at the bottom two at the top. “so what do you wanna do first.” art pokes at her cheeks. she opens her mouth as if to answer but instead throws up all over arts white t-shirt. “fuc-fudge.” art stops himself from cursing looking at his daughter in disbelief. she just giggles.

back at the club you are a worrying mess. “ok you’ve been setting here for thirty minutes staring at your phone.” tashi plobs down next to you. “this is supposed be girls night out no kids no husbands just girlfriends.” you sigh. “i know i know, but i’ve never left art alone with bean before, and it’s just been me and her her and me for so long. i think i’m having separation anxiety.” you rant. “i don’t even know why i came out it’s not like i can drink yet.” tashi shushes you. “no none of that no mopey mom feelings ok. trust i know how you feel but think about how much when we need this. we have been sitting at home with nothing but shitty diapers and achy boobs. who cares if we can’t drink yet let’s just dance and let loose. art and patrick have everything under control ok.” you nod your head standing up to go hit the dance floor with tashi. this night out is more than deserved. “wait you left lily home alone with patrick?” “course not my moms there. now let’s go.”

“ok bean, daddy’s got a new shirt you’ve got a new diaper now drink this bottle and go to sleep.” art’s seated in the rocking chair handing her the bottle. she immediately chucks it across the room laughing. art goes and picks it up trying again. only for her to throw it again laughing even harder now. art stares at her in shock. “so you think this is a game?”

after 20 minutes of trying to get her to sleep he finally succeeds laying her down in her crib whispering a good night.

art sets down on the couch with a beer flipping through the channels. “god, how does mama do this every night.” he turns on adult swim cause why not and then he hears it. the sound of banging and giggling coming from the baby monitor. picking it up he’s thinking there’s no way that could be bean cause bean is sleeping. but there she was on the monitor screen bouncing in her crib hitting her toy against the rails.

art opens the door to her nursery and is greeted by a very smiley and very awake baby. “you’re not gonna go to sleep are you.” she just laughs making grabbing hands at him.

the next hour art spends playing peak-a-boo, pretended to steal her nose and she still wasn’t a little bit tired. “come on baby cut me some slack here. what does mommy usually do to get you to sleep?” she perks up at the mention of her mother. “ma ma ma ma ma ma.” shes babbles. “yea mama what does mama do? does she read to you or sing you lullaby’s?” your daughter does her little baby dance when art mentions lullaby’s. and art can do that he can sing lullaby’s it’s just he doesn’t know any. so he improvises.

“okay lullaby time. time to sing a lullaby.” art thinks hards but none are popping into his mind. “looks like we’re gonna freestyle this bean.” art clears his throat. “bean bean one year old bean i really need you to go to sleep. sleep sleep is pretty neat especially if you’re a one year old bean.” art looks down at his daughter resting on his shoulder playing with his necklace. assuming the song is working he repeats it three more times before they’re both passed out on the couch.

“thanks for tonight tash i’ll call you in the morning.” you watch her car drive off making your way to your house.

pushing open the front door walking into the living room to be met with a mess of toys and your husband and daughter asleep on the couch. you snap a picture before running your hand through arts hair waking him up. “hey you’re back.” art whispers moving to sit up slowly as not to wake your daughter. “did you have fun?” you nod your head. “looks like you and bean had your own fun.” art stands. “love, she just would not sleep i had to made up a lullaby.” you laugh the both of you walking to her nursery to put her down. you guys watch her sleep for a while before leaving.

“thanks for doing this.” you reach up places a kiss on arts lips. he shrugs. “it’s nothing. watching after her is my responsibility to. i’ll start doing it more so you can go hang out you know start having a life again.” even though it’s truly the bare minimum you still feel happy that he would suggest such a thing. you give him one last kiss before walking off to get ready for the night.

“you look hot by the way.”

(i nicknamed the baby bean for this cause i didn’t wanna keep calling her daughter .)

[zeltqz]

the ask was for a sanzu x fem reader nsfw and they’re both getting high together in the car and they do the thing where they bloke smoke in each other’s most and one things leads to another. But I thought it would be funny of on the middle of their sesh, ran calls and idk you could decide if he answers or not. Lol

— mile high club

ø contents: smoking, smut, possessiveness, fluff, takeomi slander ish bc i hate the mf, friends to lovers, mutual oblivious pining, akashi brothers' mentioned beefing

o word count : 7.1k.

ø notes: is it even a sanzu fic if i dont include some sort of tension and psychological explanation to do with the neglect he faced from Takeomi? no? ok anyway...

@wenumsmol 🫶🏾

The sun sets over the streets of Tokyo when you park the car in the garage of the Akashi household, having dropped Haru off at home since you’re now his designated driver because his license got suspended for reckless driving.

“We’re here.” The car shuts off when you turn the key, both hands resting on the wheel like the professional, respectable driver you are. “Now get out of my car.”

Sanzu groans from the backseat, laying flat on his back, hand splayed over his forehead, the cold heat from his hands doing wonders to soothe his burning headache. 

“Oi.” Over your shoulder, you peek at him, fighting the urge to poke him awake. “I said we’re here.”

“I know.”

“ So…get out?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t—” You bite your words, stopping yourself to give yourself time to take a deep breath, soothing your bubbling frustration before it erupts. “You don’t want to enter your own house?”

He raises a long, slender finger, pointing insistently out the window. You follow his gaze to the back corner of the garage, Takeomi’s bike perched on its stand. 

“Ohhh,” you realise, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn and face him fully. “Well..you can’t avoid him forever.”

He removes his hand from his forehead, eyebrows knitted, forehead creased as he glares at you. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, Haru.”

“So am I.” He’s sitting up, face stern and serious, you swear his green eyes practically glow in the dark as they catch the edge of the yellow tint garage light. 

When it comes to Takeomi, Haruchiyo mainly plans on avoiding him at all costs, dodging him around the house, wearing headphones at full volume just to drown out the sound of his brother’s voice, not coming back home for days on end, rather spending the night at yours or Mikey’s house.

He’s developed different coping mechanisms : talking to Mikey is a big help, though Mikey isn’t one for therapeutic advice, he’s still willing to lend a helping ear and listen to Haruchiyo rant on and on. It’s not much help though, only hearing responses like ‘ hm ’ , ‘ oh ’, and ‘ah’,  maybe if Mikey has a little energy left in him, he’d nod occasionally, but that’s about as much help as you’d get. 

His second coping mechanism is you,  someone he’d befriended a couple months back and kept you by his side secretly ever since, using you as a personal chauffeur and a therapist, but more importantly a best friend. Someone who’d be there for him without judging him and his dirty secrets; someone who likes to be around him not because they’re scared or intimidated, but because they enjoy his presence. 

He cannot be in the right state of mind when talking to his brother, not wanting to remember their interactions in the morning, so he relies on getting stoned or drunk to wipe his memory. It’s a potentially dangerous mechanism, but Sanzu enjoys the adrealine rush of trying something new, enjoys the out of body experiences, the fuzzy feelings, the wild imaginations and visions that make his world look colourful rather than monochromatic. 

“Haru.” You call his name with that sweet voice of yours, one that makes his heart warm. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m always gonna be here for you.” 

He’s looking down at his lap, mouth twisted in a way he always does when he’s deep in thought. You can’t help but wonder just what’s going through that brain of his, knowing fully that up there is a mess of unorganised feelings and emotions he’d never been able to fully process.

“Haru. Is everything oka—���

“You know what I want?” He cuts you off, changing topics with a bright smile. 

His decision to switch topics isn’t something that offends you, knowing that he takes time to fully open up and you’re willing to wait as long as he needs. “What do you want, Haru?”

“I want weed.”

“There’s no weed, wait. What are you doin—” He moves quickly, his lean body brushing past yours, balancing a hand on your lap for leverage as he reaches inside the glove compartment pulling out his stash. “What the hell! You stashed your crap in my car?!”

“Of course I did.” He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your face, moving to the backseat. “Where else would I put it?”

“Uh—I don’t know? Your room? Anywhere but my damn car! I got pulled over the other day. What if I had gotten caught and they searched my car?”

“Did you?” He shrugs half heartedly, opening the ziplock bag. Almost instantly the car smells of marijuana, your nose wrinkles as you try to process it. 

“Well, no…but that’s not the point!”

“Shhhh,” he shushes you, taking his time to roll his blunt, all the while you’re glaring at him. “Stop pouting. You should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“This.” He licks the joint to seal it, lifting it towards you like it’s his artistic masterpiece. The smile on his face screams child proud of their school project, diamond scars stretching cutely as his smile only widens. “It’s strong. Try it.”

“It better be.” You snatch it from his hands, holding it between your teeth as you manouevr yourself to the backseat to seat beside him. 

His chin is heavy on your shoulder as he watches you light it, wanting to be as close to you as possible not only to get a whiff of that perfume he loves that you practically drown yourself in, but to see your initial reaction to the weed. 

The smoke burns your throat before you could fully inhale, coughing violently whilst pounding on your chest to ease it. Haruchiyo grabs water from the front, tossing it to your lap as you erupt in a series of coughs. “What is that?” 

“I dunno.” He eyes the joint between his two fingers, looking oddly fascinated by it. “I just heard it was strong.”

“No shit.” It hurts when you talk, still feeling the ghost of smoke searing your oesphagus. 

His spare hand hooks onto your legs, and you yelp as he swings them over on his lap, slender fingers rubbing up and down your thigh as he smokes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna.” You shift upwards on the seats, sitting on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to rest your forehead against the side of his face and shoulder. The scent of his cologne is overpowered by the marjiuana, but it’s still visible, dipping your face between his neckline and sighing. “This one is too much.” 

“Are my eyes red?” His jaw moves when he speaks, and it tickles as his smooth skin brushes against your cheek.

It pains you to move from your current position, his warmth and scent are soothing to you, but you shift back, turning the car lights on to see better. The corners of his eyes are red, and he’s struggling to keep them fully open. 

“Yeah, they are.” The urge to brush his cheeks is tempting, and your fingers twitch and hesitate by your side.

“Hey hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?” When you nod, he shifts upwards, his hand grabbing to hold onto your waist to ground you before you slip off his lap. 

The sudden contact had you stiffening, blood roaring in your ears as his strong hand held your side. You watch him perform a trick, his diaphragm contracting as he inhales, lips pursed as he exhales, several rings of smoke following suit. Your brows raise in surprise, ready to praise him when he sucks it all back in with one huge breath, the rings dismantling in the air. 

He turns back to look at you, chin high in the air, eyes tinted red gleaming as he grins at you, cheerful and animated. You can’t help it, reaching out to cup his soft cheeks with one hand, tracing over the outline of his lips, the shape of his scars with your thumb. 

It’s like he’s frozen stiff as your fingers feel up his face, and he blinks at you as you look at him with those soft eyes of yours. “You’re so cute, Haru.”

His eyes dilate; from the light in the car, or the strong weed you don’t know, can’t tell. What you can tell is that from his silence, his mind is running wild, thoughts bouncing across his brain from left to right, mirroring the way his eyes dart over your face, your lips, and the curve of your nose.

“So are you.” The words spill out from his lips faster than the blush creeps onto his cheeks. He looks away, embarrassed, clearing his throat before smoking from the joint again. “I learnt it from Ran. That useless lazy fucker is sometimes helpful.”

“Ran, huh?” Your fingers find themselves latched to the front strands of his hair tucked into a ponytail, twirling it on your fingertips. “He’s the tall one, right?”

He chuckles, short and amused, voice muffled from the joint between his lips. “All my friends are tall, ya know?”

“Well maybe if you let me around your friends, I’d be able to identify them.”

“You’ll live without ‘em,” he says, blowing smoke in your face, snorting when you cough and swat the smoke away, then try to hit the side of his face, only for him to catch your hand in time. “Your reflexes suck ass.”

You struggle to shift your hand from his grip, frowning at him. “I’m not a ninja.”

“I can teach you to be one.” 

“You a sensei, now?”

“I’m anything and everything. Like Batman.” 

He smiles when you laugh softly, the sound making him feel lightheaded, paired along with the weed flowing through his veins. “Batman is rich, though. You’re not.”

“I can steal money, all is good.” His hand, warm and hot, slides under the hem of your shirt, leaving a searing trail behind his movements that burns into your skin. “I’ll buy you anything once I get rich. Promise.”

He’s been subtly leaning closer as he speaks the whole time, but you don’t notice until his forehead brushes yours and you’re both staring at each other, daring the other to move closer.  “ Anything? ”

Green eyes fall down to your lips, not even trying to look subtle. “Anything.”

Fuck, at this angle you look so pretty, staring down at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He always feels like that around you, another reason why he loves getting high around you. It forces him to be vulnerable around you, letting the feelings he’s been shovelling down refsurface.

Though it’s risky, and there’s nothing more he fears than rejection, he’s always been a risk taker. You make him feel good with your words, your presence, your voice, the silly moments you two share alone in his car, your room, his room. 

Your lips are what he favours the most on your face, always glossy with whatever flavour lipbalm you wear that day, and he physically fights the urge to kiss them just to guess it. His eyes are drawn towards your lips like a magnet. The way you bite at them when you’re focused, chew on the skin when you’re nervous, lick them when they’re dry, he notices, and wonders how soft they truly are.

“Do…do you wanna kiss me?” Your question catches him off guard, brows knitting in confusion as he wonders if he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud this entire time, but in truth, he’s been making his intentions obvious as he’s been staring at nothing but your lips the entire time.

“Huh? Don’t be weird.” He instantly facepalms himself mentally, fighting the urge to turn back time to take back his words, but it’s too late when your brows rise, lips parting slightly in surprise before looking down at your lap with a slight frown.

“Oh, sorry. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” His heart stings in his chest, he can feel it clenching painfully leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in the depths of his stomach when he realises you’re upset. “Why’d you ask that anyway?”

Maybe he can shift the narrative, find out a way to spin the conversation back to kissing. He still has a chance. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

“I have!” The pout is back on your face, but not from being sad; he can tell the difference, so he sighs in relief. But still…the way your lower lip juts out slightly has him fighting the urge to tug and bite at it. “I’m not a virgin, idiot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face, and you notice. “What? It’s that hard to believe someone would fuck me? Am I that ugly or something?” 

The effects of the weed start kicking in,  now you feel yourself getting emotional over nothing.

“I never even said anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Haru.”

He flexes his jaw as he glares at you, trying to shovel his anger down. The argument is pointless, so he stays silent, bringing the blunt back to his lips. He inhales it for longer this time, and it can’t possibly be healthy for his lungs, but he doesn’t care.

“What time is it?” you ask, and his hand squeezes your waist tighter, stopping you from squirming from his lap.

“Why do you need the time?”

“Because I gotta get going at seven.”

“...why ?”

“Because…” you chirp, shifting to face him with a huge smile on your face, “I’ve got a date.” 

When you bite down on your lip, he can’t even be bothered to look down at it, or notice it. It’s silent in the car as you wait for Haru to be your best friend/wingman that hypes you, ask you for his name, height, age, job, personality, whatever. But he’s silent, face unreadable, and the tension in the car rises thick when he continues to stay silent; your excitement fades along with your smile.

He knows he’s been silent for too long, now everything is awkward, but he can’t find the right words to say. Congratulations? It’s just a date, what do you expect him to do? Find you wedding rings? 

His brain isn’t co-operating either, not in the right state of mind to process his words like a filter, so he says nothing before he says something he’ll regret.

“...Anyway,” you have to choke your words out, refusing to show your slight embarrassment, “hurry up and get high, so I can leave and get laid.”

“I am high.”

“Then I can leave.”

“No, you can’t.” He glares back when you glare at him, but he can’t find it in himself to control himself any longer. Maybe it was a bad idea to get high in a confided space with you, on his lap, with your face so close to his. 

“Why can’t I?”

“...’cause he’s a loser, and you don’t wanna get laid by a loser.”

You snort. “He’s the only loser available, so maybe I do want to.”

“What if…there’s another loser available?” He goes stiff and still when your eyes flick up to his face, looking concentrated at him eye to eye as if you were trying to decipher his words. “Me. I’m the loser.”

“You?” He simply nods and you do the opposite and shake your head. “You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I am.” You shift on his lap when he shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest, and you watch as smoke leaves his lips as he exhales. 

His senses are intensified with the drugs, your fingers tickling their way up his shoulders, along his neck, to behind his head, lacing them between his soft hair. Leaning down, you hold his face in your hands and kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, he feels like the world paused, and he’s dying to find whoever has control over the remote of his life so they could press play and he could embrace you like he deserves. Or, maybe he’s dying, and whoever is up there allows him to imagine just one night with you before he fades into nothing.

It’s real, all real. The tender slide of your lips against his are real, the sensation of his teeth sinking into your soft plump lips, biting, and nibbling at it is real, the gentle moans he eagerly draws from your lips when his tongue swipes against yours, wet, messy and sloppy is real. 

“Fuck—” you whisper along the swell of his lips, pulling away to examine his face.

He looks gone, shallow half-lidded eyes looking up at you with blown wide pupils, mouth half open as if he’s forgotten how to close it. 

“Haru, you there?” Your knuckle traces along the side of his face, stopping under his chin, lifting it to look up at you.

“Yeah yeah, ‘m here.” 

Your giggle echoes in his ears, and he’s never been harder in his life, cock pressing uncomfortably tight against his pants. “Good, because you look wasted right now.”

“Just, fuck— stop talkin’. C’mere.” He pulls you down for a kiss with a hand at the back of your head, sloppily working his mouth against yours. He tastes like weed, the smell strong but it doesn’t stop you from licking into his mouth, desperate to drive the strong taste away and replace it. 

Big, strong hands wander the length of your back, slipping under your shirt, cold hands hugging you tight, tight to his body that you can’t help but arch into him.

A sound that comes from the inside of the house has you pulling away, turning to face the window, and he trails his lips down the length of your neck. His nose pokes into the flesh of your neck as he sucks deep, red hickeys onto the plane of your neck, breathing heavily as he savours the feeling of your soft feeling of your skin. 

He could get used to this; the weed makes him feel like your skin is ten times softer, or maybe that’s how it generally feels and you’re just perfect, so soft everywhere. 

“Tak—take this off.” The words are lost to your neck as he sucks along the column of your throat, rogue hands wandering along your chest, up your shirt, kneading your tits through your bra.

“Okay, okay, wait —” When you pull backwards, he follows, leaning up from the seat, lips attached to your neck by the hip. “Haru. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to let me remove my clothes.”

“Just…wait a min’ longer…” He sucks harder, and you shudder as shivers race down your body at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at the sensitive part of your neck. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You look so sexy like this, fuck.” He’s tugging your shirt off, throwing it behind you, uncaring of where it lands. 

Warm hands roam your stomach, your sides, sliding up further to wrap around your throat. “So beautiful ‘n sexy, just for me.”

“You already said sexy.” He hums absentmindedly, obviously not paying attention if the way he’s squeezing the fat of your breasts were any indication. 

“You’re sexy times two.” He grins up at you before pulling your bra cup down, and you inhale sharply when it brushes down your nipple. “No, no actually. Times infinity.”

You flush hot at his words, especially when his lips brush against your ears, biting down against the shell. He’s sweating from the heat in the car plus the heat from both your panting bodies. 

“Don’t you think we should—ah fuck—” He tugs you upwards on his lap, your clothed cunt grinding against his hard cock, hands curling into fists behind his neck. 

“We should what?” His musical chuckle vibrates along your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine, forcing you to arch to chase the feeling away. You squeal when he bites down along your ear once more, smirkingpleasantly at the soft, squishy press of your tits against his chest.

“We should go to your room. I mean there’s not much room in here.” Your neck aches from the angle you’re sitting at, neck bent at an awkward angle to avoid hitting the roof of the car. 

There’s not enough space in this crammed car to fit yourself comfortably. Haru, on the other hand, is more than comfortable, seated on the seats like a king that’s blessed the majestic view of your half naked body atop of his. 

“I got an idea,” he says, not giving you a moment to wonder what he’s thinking before he’s lifting you from his lap, plopping you onto the seats. Your forearm darts quickly to cover your chest when he pops the car door open, lips pressed together tightly as he walks to the front seat, yanks the door open without a care and readjusts the seats back, pushing it till there’s enough room between the wheel. “This space big enough for ya?”

You tilt your head past the seat, surveying the space with a keen eye. There’s enough room for you to kneel down and take his cock in your mouth without a fuss or a struggle. A bed sounds nicer though, the thought of sinking into his soft mattress as he fucks you crosses your mind, but it’s overpowered when you remember his siblings are home and you’d rather die than let them hear you.

“Seems good,” you shrug, sliding quickly out the car; the cold air from the garage AC hits you smack in the chest, hardening your nipples momentarily. 

“Ah, ah wait.” Haru pulls you back before you could climb on top of him. The cute way your tilt your head at him, confused, makes his heart do a triple beat for a moment. “I wanna try somethin’.”

“Okay…” 

It’s stressful the way he’s manouevring you along the seat, pressing your back into the front seat as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.”

You swallow hard, unable to taste your saliva with how fast your nerves are racing. Doing as he said, you bring your hands under your thighs, holding them up as he tugs your pants down, struggling to get them past your bent knees, glaring at you when you choke on your laugh, muttering out a quick apology. 

“Don’t apologise now. You’ll be beggin’ for it later, trust me.”

His confidence is over the roof right now, evident in his strong posture, shoulders back as he leans forward, swiping a finger along your folds with ease. 

“You’re really wet.” Your slick catches on the tip of his finger, and you want to hide your face between your hands when his pink tongue darts out to lick at it. 

“Could you maybe not do that? It’s awkward…”

He hums when he looks at you; now it’s his turn to tilt his head at you. “How else am I supposed to eat you out then?” His hands press themselves between yours under your thighs, and your back aches from almost sliding down the seat in this awkward position. “You want me to skip the prep? Fuck you into the seat right now?”

“I mean—” It sounds like a good idea, but then you remember the length and thickness of his cock through his pants and swallow excessively. “Prep please.”

He smiles at you, the car light reflecting off the side of his face as he dips his face closer, digging his fingers into the swell of your thighs, nose pressed against your folds and sniffs so hard it’s like a vacuum, your clit tingles with the need to have his tongue in you. 

“This gonna sound so weird, but I really don’t give a fuck but…” he moans as he licks along your slit, a long, wet stripe from the bottom to the top, “you taste so good, fuck—”

“Haru stop…” He seals his lips around your clit, fingernails digging into your thighs as he sucks hard, numbing your clit with the continous flicks of his tongue moving at rapid speed. “Oh my go—”

Your hands fight the urge to fly to his hair, pull him closer to grind his nose against your stubborn clit, but you remember his instructions, to keep your hands on your thighs, keep you spread open for him. 

He’s devouring your pussy like a starved individual, flicking his tongue rapidly, slurping the wetness that drips from your puffy folds. You try to close your legs, try to squirm away from the ticklish feeling of his wet tongue trying to squeeze its way through your cunt, but it’s intoxicating, and overwhelming, especially when his finger tickles against your hole.

It’s fascinating watching it go in and out, and Haru dreads pulling his mouth away from your cunt but he needs to watch your face as his finger slides knuckle deep inside you. His bloodshot eyes twinkle as he watches your slick coat the length of his finger, translucent liquid dripping down his knuckles to the seat. 

“You always get this wet?”

“I don’t know…” It’s not often you finger yourself, so the experience is first hand. You’re also partially amazed that your body managed to produce this much slick from a single finger. “Wait, wait, right there. That feels so good—”

“Here?” His finger curls inside you, itching the side of that spongy spot. 

“No, no—not there, wait—” Your hips shift to the side a little, then it’s like something switches inside you, hands shaking against your thighs as he spreads you out with a second finger, applying pressure to that spot that has your moans increasing in pitch. 

His cock twitches with the need to replace his fingers, sink himself deep inside you, watch your eyes cross as you melt in pleasure. He leans forward, slurping, sucking along the sensitive hood of your clit.

Your body feels numb, voice coming out as breathy pants as you tilt your head back to hit the headrest, giving into the warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside your abdomdem as he fingers you to your climax. 

He knows that you're close when your walls cling and squeeze his fingers tight, barely giving him enough room to move them. His own tongue slithers through your folds, lapping up the leftover slick. The taste of you is better than he’d expected, and he thinks he could live between your legs for the rest of his life. 

There’s a swell of pride swirling through his chest when he feels you lose yourself on his fingers and tongue, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip painfully as you jolt and sit up from the effects of your orgasm. Your hands forget holding your thighs up, gripping onto his hair tied up loosely in a ponytail and tug him forward, craving the warmth of his mouth sealed around your clit as your world comes tumbling down.

It takes a couple moments for you to get yourself together, still holding painfully onto his hair before letting go. He presses ticklish kisses along your thighs, licking at the wetness spread along them. 

“That was—” You swallow, trying to find the words since your brain isn’t co-operating. “That was so good.”

You look all cute when flustered, face heated and flushed, your pretty lips left open as you pant heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“Think I found my new addiction.” He grins up at you, big hands squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kneels up between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and leans in for a kiss.

Your hands cup his cheeks, holding him close to you as he licks into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, giving you a moment to gather your nerves because you’re going to need it. 

“I’m ready,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling the shiver that races down his spine.

“Bet, okay. Hold on.” He draws back, big hands spreading your thighs apart.

You look at him through your lashes as he sheds his shirt, tossing it behind you. His body is lean, capacious, abs faint but visible and your mouth waters, hand flying out to run down his stomach. Your touch is so light, his muscles flinching away from the ticklish feeling. Everything you do to him makes him feel so good. 

He grips both your hands, pinning them above the headrest. “Keep ‘em there,” he says, unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. He grabs a condom from his back pocket, ignoring your humourless stare.

“You planned this?” You gesture at the condoms with your head. 

“Better be safe than sorry.” He bites the end of the wrapper, pulling the condom out, rolling it slowly down his shaft. 

Your eyeroll is cut short when the tip of his cock angles itself at your entrance. He can see the way you’re dripping, the slick smeared along your thighs. 

Warmth engulfs the head of his cock as he slowly pushes it in you, and he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from thinking how good you feel, how tight you’re going to squeeze his cock, how he’s going to cum inside you—

You’re panting, the tip of his cock stretching you out, almost screaming when it pushes past, the thick head making you dizzy it carves a path inside you. “Ah, Haru that—” He pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him.

Haru swears, gripping onto the base of his cock, squeezing it to stop himself from cumming too quickly, pushing through the urge to shove the rest of his length inside you. He stills halfway, needing to take a moment to compose himself, his mind fuzzy and warm, and he feels lightheaded. 

He has to close his eyes, knowing if he looks down, seeing his cock between your legs, halfway inside you, he’d cum in an instant. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to wait—I can take it,” you pant, hips desperately trying to rut forward. “Please…”

He takes a moment to swallow, groaning lowly, as he pushes the rest of his cock inside you, trying to ignore the tight suction of your walls. The moment he bottoms out, he’s falling forward, dipping his face between your neck and shoulder and moans, the sound desperate and needy, causing your pussy to clench and quiver around him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his head as you hold him closely, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling your shoulders. “You okay?” 

It’s funny how you’re asking him this instead of the other way round, and a part of you feels pride in the fact you could make someone this desperate and needy without effort. 

“I’m good…it’s just…fuck , you’re so tight.” He forces himself to inhale deeply, eyes squeezing shut painfully to compose himself. He shivers at the feeling of your nails raking up and down his hair, scratching at his scalp addictvely. “You’re good though, right? It doesn’t hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. “Nah. The seats a little uncomfortable but…that’s about it. You can move, Haru.”

“It’s uncomfy? Oh…” You almost want to cry when he pulls out, but he’s lifting you from the seat, switching your positions, slotting you back down on his lap. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nods, biting his lip when you grab onto his cock, seating yourself down on his cock. 

“Oh my god—” You feel so full, his thick cock stretches your walls, whimpering beside his ear when he rolls his hips sensually, pressing his cock deeper inside you. 

“ Holy shit , you’re so tight.” Your pussy drives him into a frenzy, eyes threatening to roll back at the way your cunt squeezes him so tight, clinging to every inch of him. 

He swears, voice low, sounding wrecked as you begin riding him a little faster, slowly lifting your hips up and down. The obscene squelch of your pussy grasping pathetically around his thick shaft has him biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. 

“ Haru.” You wail his name, collapsing onto his chest, shuddering when his hands, rough and warm, grab onto your hips to slow your pace down. 

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Lemme move—” You trail your lips down his neck in an attempt to soften him, waiting for him to let go of you so you can move faster. There’s a nudging spot inside you, an itch that needs to be scratched. Your attempt to move is shut down again, frustration building up and up the longer you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Haru please…”

“If I let go, you gotta promise to take it slow.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” You whisper along his lips, tugging at it with your teeth. He groans into your mouth, and shifts for a moment, his cock follows suit, twitching desperately for some friction. “Wait, do that again.”

“This?” He rolls his hips upwards, rolls your hips backwards and forwards, and you drip a little wetter down his leg, wetting his thighs. 

“Yes. Do it again.” 

He starts a steady pace, steady enough for you to feel the way he’s deliberately aiming at that spot in you that makes you squirm around. 

“I’m so close.” He says beside your ear, his voice lingering in your head, clouded by the feeling of his hands roaming your back, scratching at it with every bounce you give him. 

“Me…me too.” 

He’s tense, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. You shift backwards, unslinking your hands from around his neck to grab at his knees, using them as leverage to support yourself as you roll your hips in circles.

He can feel the energy buzzing between you both, can feel the tingling sensation on the edge of his fingertips, the drugs running through his veins has the regular feeling of sex intensifieid, and he swears he can feel every inch of you. 

Everything is so hot right now, the temperature in the car, the feel of your hands braced against his knees, the way your nails dig into the bone, the way your tits bounce in his face as you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You clench when you cum, and he leans forward suddenly, grabbing your hips to lift you up, slamming you back down with a loud moan, hips jerking as he cums inside you. 

You’re shaking, trembling at the feeling of his cum spurting inside you, the wet sensation is ticklish, cold shivers running down your spine. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles again, holding you down to feel your greedy walls sucking him in further. “Holy fuck, I could stay here forever.”

“I need a shower.” You say once you come back to your senses, groaning softly when you lift yourself up and off his cock, the wet squelch following after echoes throughout the car. 

“That’s so hot.” He mutters, eyes wide with fascincation as he reaches out to thumb at your clit, enjoying the way you shiver and let out a soft moan as he rubs it in circles. “Holy shit that’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

“I kno—” It’s distracting when you can feel his cum dripping out from you slowly making you lose your train of thought , the drip of it is anticipating until it forms a small pool between both of your bodies. “I know.”

“You hesitated.” 

“I didn’t.”

He removes his thumb, wiping the wetness from it along his tongue, tasting you, and you feel your face flush at the action, burning hot when looks up at you, the corners of his mouth dragging up slowly. “You did.”

“Shut up.” 

Sanzu’s reaching towards the backseat for his stash, and you laugh at how his arm barely reaches it, flailing it uselessly around the air. 

“You’re not gonna reach it, Haru.”

“Watch me.”

He grunts and groans like he’s lifting heavy bricks, and you start to take pity on him. “Dude, just give up.”

“No.”

 If there’s one thing about Sanzu it’s that he’s determined, but not in the way you think. It’s more the stubborn version, always trying to do the impossible, ignoring you when you tell him it’s not possible, then sulks when he fails. 

He clicks his tongue, shifting you down on his lap so he has more room and this time successfully grabs at it. “Told you. Always hatin’ on me.”

You giggle, faint and shrill, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder, watching him dug through the contents of the bag, his slender, skilled fingers professionally rolling another blunt. 

It’s silent in the car again, you two both bask in each other’s presence. Both of you refusing to discuss what happened earlier, not sure if those sudden feelings you felt were because of the weed or if there’s something else deep inside, a false truth you’ve refused to make terms with, or shoved them aside for another unknown reason unbeknownst to you.

Your head is racing with thoughts, pictures of Haru wondering where you suddenly felt these emotions towards him came from. The thought of sharing him with anyone else angers you, but it shouldn’t because you’re both friends. The thought of him laying in a car with another girl on top of him angers you, makes you feel bitter and resentment towards this imaginary woman your brain fabricated inside your head.

It’s like your body is working against you. 

Stupid weed. 

Haru’s gone for the second time today, and for the first time in what felt like ten minutes—in actuality it was only three—you look up at him. He looks like he’s falling asleep, those chubby cheeks of his so promising, so soft, you can’t help but shift upwards, pressing soft kisses against them.

It should be weird to him  that he doesn’t question your sudden out of character movements, but then again you both did just have sex not longer than five minutes ago. 

His phone rings at the backseat, pulling you away from his neck where you were sucking fresh purple hickeys onto and he groans when your ass brushes aginst his cock. It’s been slightly hard the entire time, still not over his recent orgasm, but not strong enough to maintain itself to stand tall. 

“What’re you doin’?” You freeze as your hand hovers over his phone. 

“Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. It’s irritating.” The caller ID is Ran, and part of you wants to answer it so you can know what he looks like. It’s been nudging at your brain the entire time, trying to figure out which one of his friends is who, trying to put the pieces of the faceless group of boys together to solve the puzzle. 

“Just ignore it—okay then.” You answer the phone away, turning the camera away from your naked body onto Sanzu’s face. You squirm around, trying to find where Sanzu threw your bra and shirt as the two engage in small talk.

“What do you want?”

Ran snorts on the other end, his voice deep, familiar, and husky. “Don’t needa get all pissy, you big baby. Takeomi wants to know where you are.”

“What the fuck does that have to do wit’ me?”

“Call him, or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know?”

Haru sniffs, nose wrinkling when the smoke he blows out invades his nostrils. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Being a fuckin’ junkie?” Ran snorts, petty and bitterly, voice now laced in sarcasm. “So productive.”

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at the same time you put your shirt back on, reaching under your shirt to fix the straps of your bra. “I’m doing more than getting high, you slug. I’m with my friend.”

You had tuned out the conversation from the beginning, your main priority being your clothes, but at the mention of ‘friend’, he jostles his leg, catching your attention. “Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?”

“Oh? Who might you be?”

“I’m—” Haruchiyo ends the call before you could even get the first letter of your name out. “What the hell?”

He lazily shrugs, tossing his phone into the backseat without a care. It hits the edge of the seat, before hitting the floor with a mild smack. Two noble fingers grasp at your chin, redirecting your gaze from his probably broken phone to his face. 

The kiss is passionate, and long, his wet slide of his tongue laving itself inside your mouth. Your face grows hot when his lips wrap around the length of your tongue, sucking the moisture from it, replacing it with his own. It’s messy but you don’t care, happily drinking the mixed saliva from his mouth. 

His sharp teeth sink into your lips, stopping you from pulling away, kissing you with fervour as his heavy head spins, and bright flashes of colour appears behind his closed eyes.

“I’m so hungry,” he gasps out when he finally pulls away, wiping the saliva from his mouth with his forearm, giving you back the breath he stole from your lungs with that kiss.

“You want me to drive you to McDonalds?”

He grins up at you, that stupid adorable look on his face that has your heart warming in your chest. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“It’s my way of forcing some food down your throat before you die of starvation.”

“What if I was thirsty instead?”

“McDonalds sells drinks, dumbass.”

“ Or… ” He places his hands on your hips, pulling you forward on his lap. You yelp at the motion, hands flying to the headrest behind him to stabilise yourself. 

What he’s insinuating is lost to you for a moment, only becoming obvious when his hand snakes down to your pussy, thumb nudging insistently at your clit. His eyes dip down to your chest, your nipples still hard and poking through the thin fabric of your shirt, then drags them back up to your face and smiles.

“You’re so horny.” Your eyeroll is fabricated and fake, part of you deep down wants it too. 

“You like it though.” It’s true, and he knows it too. The defeated look on your face is all he needs to know when he moves to open the car door, nodding his head outside. “Let’s go to my room now.”

[seaslugfanclub]

Ok umm this is my first ask ever and im so so nervous but i love your writing and i was wondering if you could write scenarios of reader and king magnifico(or any villain really) just being friends? Like they’re just silly best friends or smth and they dont know how it happened but they were just friends one day? If you dont want to thats fine i just thought it would be funny

The Disney villains fandom has a serious lack of Magnifico x readers, shame on all of you

Magnifico and (Y/N)’s reluctant Friendship

————————————

Magnifico gives off newley divorced dad vibes

He’s fragile rn

When the company brought his Hologram to life, (Y/N) was the first person he met at the park. They explained where he was and introduced him to the other villains

He doesn’t get along with the villains, because honestly? He’s not really a villain

We’ve seen what real villains do when granting others wishes. Selling souls, stealing voices, turning people into frogs…

And god knows Holo!Asha ruined any chance at him getting along with the “good guys”

So who can he turn to? (Y/N), The strange park attendant who’s basically got a harem of theater majors

Understandably, he’s not the most thrilled about his situation

But after (Y/N) sat with Magnifico and let him rant to them for 2 hours (as well as patting his back as he cried) the ex-king began opening up

(Y/N) helped him look at the bright side, at least he’s not responsible for an entire kingdom anymore. He doesn’t have the weight of keeping so many people safe

Magnifico still has the idea that he only has value if he does something of service, so he likes to help (Y/N) with their daily tasks (I.e following them around and micromanaging)

(Y/N)’s total weakness is Magnificos big wet eyes, one look at him and they crumble

But (Y/N) is also super annoying, like a younger sibling

Magnifico: I’m worried about what others think about me.

(Y/N): don’t worry dude. No one thinks about you.

(Y/N) like to help Magnifico with his hair, that shits soft as hell

(Y/N) introduced Magnifico to those cheesy shirts with text on them, now he has a secret closet full of them

His favorite is “I’m not a stepdad, I’m a dad who stepped up” (no one sees him as a father figure)

[rogueddie]

Lost in You T | 1,247 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can't stop thinking about kissing him

Steve had a problem.

Or, no- Steve has a problem.

He did think it was a one off issue, something that would sort itself out if he just ignored it for a while. But, instead, it only seems to have gotten worse.

He really, really wants to kiss Eddie.

At first, he didn't think anything of his staring problem. The world was ending, people were dying, there wasn't time to worry about small things like that.

Although, even after they defeated Vecna, Steve continued to stare. He continued to dismiss it as a normal, totally platonic thing.

As Robin said; "it's almost embarrassing how long it took you to realize".

But, at the time, it had felt so normal. It still does.

Eddie's a good looking guy and Steve has eyes. Of course he's going to look at his best features. His lips just... are the one that draws his focus most of all.

He's sure that no one would blame him, either. With how full Eddie's lips are, how he tends to bite his lower lip when he's stressed, how he pouts so much when he's asking for favors, how he licks his lips whenever he looks Steve over, looking so plump and pink and-

... well. At least he knows he has a problem.

For a while, he thought that it was that simple. He had thought that he was doing a miraculous job of hiding how distracted he always gets, how he gets lost in the daydreams.

"And I know I'm boring," Eddie says, casually. "But-"

"Wait, what?" Steve interrupts, confused. "You're not boring, who said you're boring?"

"C'mon, don't lie to me, man. I know you hate how much I drone on about shit."

"No, I don't? If I didn't like hearing your rants and that then I wouldn't ask about those things."

Eddie huffs, looking always, shoulders hunching as he mutters, "coulda fooled me."

"Eds, where the hell is this coming from?"

"You don't listen to me!" He explodes. "You just- I don't know. Your fucking eyes glaze over half the time- and I know you don't care about this shit but could you at least pretend?"

"Wh- oh. Oh, no, that's... that's not because I think you're boring, I swear."

"Why then?"

"That... I don't know if I should say."

"Right," Eddie mumbles, shaking his head. He gets up, grabbing his jacket off the armchair next to him. "Of course you can't."

"Wait, where are you going?

"Away from you."

"But- I just don't get it right now. Like, I need time to figure some shit out, you know? I don't wanna tell you one thing now and then have to take it back later. You know? It's... complicated."

Eddie pauses, before slowly turning back to look at him.

"You just need time?"

"Yeah. That's it, I swear."

"And then you'll tell me what the fuck this is about?"

"Promise."

But, uncomfortable and uncertain, Eddie keeps his distance after that. He is careful to avoid group hangouts, using Corroded Coffin or Hellfire or his uncle as an excuse when needed.

He even lies about being ill one time.

It only serves to make Steve feel guilty about his own confusion. Especially considering he's no closer to figuring his mind out than he was when they spoke.

He has to get it right though. He's not sure they'd be ok if Steve assumes he wants to kiss Eddie because he wants to date him, only to later realize it's only lust.

Steve's sure that it would sting just as much to assume that it's only lust and later, when it's too late, to realize it's love.

"That sounds like a terrible idea," Lucas points out.

Out of everyone Steve thought would figure out why Steve and Eddie were so tense all of a sudden, he didn't think it would be one of the kids.

"It's the best thing I can do right now," Steve points out.

"No, it's not?" Lucas frowns at him, expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "The best thing you can do right now is talk to him. Actually tell him why you need time. Tell him that you're worried about disappointing him."

"I'm not gonna dump all this shit on him."

"Jesus, you're worse than Mike."

"Hey-"

"He doesn't know any of this, Steve. He's probably thinking of the worst case scenario. What if he thinks you're going to kick him out the party?"

"I can't do that," Steve can't help but snort. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have that sort of authority over you brats."

"Steve! He doesn't know that! You have to talk to him, soon. He's not going to wait forever when he doesn't even know that he's supposed to be waiting or what he's waiting for!"

"But what if-"

"No."

"What?"

"I have to pick up Erica. I've told you what you should do, so do it."

Lucas makes a shooing gesture at him once he's out the car and, reluctantly, Steve turns the car around.

He heads to the trailer park.

"Hey," Eddie greets, looking him over. "You had enough time now?"

"Sort of," Steve winces. He shifts, glancing behind Eddie. "Is your uncle home? We should... talk."

"He isn't," he steps back, gesturing Steve inside.

Steve steps inside, hovering in the middle. He turns when he hears the door click shut.

"I have a problem," he blurts. "I mean, uh... Robin has always teased that I never know if I love a girl or just want... but that's- I was worried that I was, uh, maybe doing that with you? And I don't want to rush into anything or have this turn out like-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, big boy, you've already lost me. What does this," he waves his hand between them, "have to do with the girls you date?"

"Everything. Eddie, I'm not ignoring you because you're boring, I can't stop... I can't stop thinking about you."

"What?"

"You've got really nice lips, dude."

Eddie blinks at him, eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe. "What?"

"What do you mean, what? I know you like me, it's why I don't want to rush into anything and then later realize it was just, like, lust. I can't do that to you, Eds."

"So, wait, ok," Eddie waves his hands around, face scrunched and voice high. "Wait. You've known that I like you this whole time?!"

"Yeah? It's fine, I don't mind, it's no big deal."

"It's no- what the fuck, Steve!"

"Was I supposed to tell you that I knew?"

"No- or, yes- but not- ugh!"

"Whatever, ok, that's not the point! I just- I don't want you worrying and thinking this is because of anything bad. I still need time to figure this out."

"To figure out if you want to fuck me or not?"

"Oh, no, that's not a maybe, I definitely do. I just don't know if I might, like, love you too." Steve scratches his jaw, pondering on that while Eddie flails. "Well... I'm pretty sure there's a crush there at least. I don't usually get so distracted by the idea of just kissing that I check out of conversations."

"Fucking hell, Harrington, you're ridiculous."

"What-"

Eddie strides over to him, taking his face in both hands, cutting him off with a kiss.

It's barely more than a press of lips, but Steve feels alight.

It's better than his daydreams could have prepared him for.

[canthelpit0]

Sturniolo enemies to lovers

Warning: I put sfw and nsfw together, I didn’t separate them bcs they’re almost like a storyline.

Chris sturniolo

🌺 when Chris hates you, you better believe he hates you with a passion

🌺 he’ll definitely hold on to a grudge forever. Like even if it’s something you did in middle school, he’s still thinking about it.

🌺 on that note, something like that is probably the reason you hate each other. Like you were probably friends with all of them until you did something to piss Chris off

🌺 you stopped being friends with Matt and Nick, just because Chris was slandering you and exaggerating everything you did to make you look like the bad guy.

🌺 in high school everyone knew about your rivalry.

🌺 like it was so bad that even the teachers knew about it. They would do everything in their power to not have you two sit near each other in the few classes that you did share (wich weren’t a lot).

🌺one day, one teacher got pretty pissed off at the fact that you two couldn’t function normally when being in the same room, so she paired you guys up for a project in hopes that you’d make up.

🌺 Chris isn’t an ass to most people, in fact he’s pretty bubbly and even childish. He’s really talkative and all. But with you. No.

🌺 you meet up for the project, but not so surprisingly, you get nothing done.

🌺 instead you two hooked up. There was just too much tension between you two. And it turned sexual quick.

🌺 you make it a habit and become friends with benefits, kind of.

🌺 well you still don’t text, and if you do it’s simple “come over”s.

🌺 you’d never say that you ‘need’ him. It’d inflate his ego too much.

🌺 he’d sometimes film your altercations. For personal benefit, and to embarrass you. Not that you would take it.

🌺 whenever one of you was submissive, it would definitely be a brat and brat tamer dynamic.

🌺 sometimes Chris would feel stubby, even then he’d never willingly submit.

🌺 even if Chris would film you to embarrass you, he’d never show those videos or pictures to anyone. Ever. (Same the other way around)

🌺 when they started to do YouTube and car videos, Chris would always sneak in disses.

🌺 like he’d make a backhanded comment about you or smt, and Nick would have to edit it out later on.

🌺 one day Chris thought it’d be a great idea to ask Nick for all the cut footage where he makes comments about you.

🌺 so on your birthday Chris posts a video on his personal YouTube, where he first talks to the camera and wishes you a happy birthday with the fakest smile ever.

🌺 the rest of the 20 minute video is just sequences ranging from full on rants about how much he hates you, to backhanded comments about you.

🌺 you feel offended, but really you’re shocked by how much Chris really talks about you.

🌺 so you just comment on the YouTube video with “damn, you talk about me so much🥺” sarcastically, obviously. Chris doesn’t pin it, but a bunch of people seeing the video like it giving you a permanent place at the top of the comment section.

🌺 you start your own YouTube channel just to hate on Chris.

🌺 sure you were making TikTok’s and going pretty viral there too. You’d make GRWM’s where you talk about how much you hate ‘orange’.

🌺 you’d only ever refer to chris as orange, because he used to be known as the orange hoodie guy, or as Christopher.

🌺 your YouTube blows up. And at first you were mainly just doing Minecraft lets plays (it was 2021 ok), where you were taking about your Emanze hatred a little more.

🌺 on your TikTok’s, Chris would comment things like. “Using me for clout now too 🙄”

🌺 the sassier, and ruder your comments got the harder Chris would fuck you.

🌺 whenever you said something extra, you could almost be sure that Chris would be at your house to fuck you stupid.

🌺 you’d also given Chris a spare key tho your house. Wich probably wasn’t that good of an idea but you didn’t care either way.

🌺 you reconnected with Matt and nick. you started to talk to them again

🌺 wich pissed Chris off, only because now his brothers would stop him when he went to shit talk you.

🌺 your hatred for each other definetly lasted for forever.

🌺 but one day when Chris finally realized that he didn’t want you to be with someone else it clicked.

🌺 but it was seemingly too late.

🌺 Chris and his brothers moved to LA for better opportunities while you stayed back in Boston.

🌺 and while Chris genuinely thought the only reason why you were getting views was him, he was wrong.

🌺 once he moved away and you two stopped talking, your content started to shift too and you started to get more recognition as well.

🌺 whenever Chris came back to Boston, wich wasn’t that frequent, you’d hook up a few times.

🌺 but as soon as he left it was like that never happened.

🌺 on the triplets birthday you’d post a picture of you four together on your insta story wishing them a happy birthday. But you’d cross out Chris’ face.

🌺 a whole year passed like that. Until the drake and Kendrick beef (💀).

🌺 after Kendrick dropped euphoria, you used it on TikTok, the part that’s like “I hate the way you walk..” and tagged Chris in it. You captioned the video “a day as the biggest hater.”

🌺 it seemed like the internet suddenly remembered your past content and the pretty public beef between you and Chris.

🌺 people started to edit you two together to that audio.

🌺 even worse ship you, and say shit like “enemies to lovers”, “they’re just in denial” and whatnot.

🌺 after months of radio silence Chris reached out to you again telling you he’d be home for Mother’s Day and that you two would need to talk.

🌺 you left him on read, but when he showed up at your house at the time and date he’d told you, you opened the door and let him in.

🌺 this time he wasn’t there to fuck tho.

🌺 he’d noticed what your favorite flowers were back in high school. And after all you’d even gotten the flower tattooed.

🌺 he got you your favorite flowers.

🌺 you looked at him all confused.

🌺 and suddenly he was confessing to you.

🌺 your jaw dropped. After all you’d realized you were in love in those months of radio silence between meet ups, but you didn’t think it was mutual.

🌺 “if i actually hated you, we wouldn’t have ever hooked up”

🌺 in the end he took you on a few dates.

🌺 you flew out to LA just for shits and giggles, and rented your own apartment there.

🌺 you and Chris made it official and finally told his brother that you’d been fucking since junior year.

(Literally almost the plot of enemies (with benefits))

Matt sturniolo

🌺 first off, I feel like it’d be really hard to even get Matt to hate you.

🌺 so I feel like you were either childhood friends and have always hated each other, or you’re an influencer he met at a party.

🌺 in the secound option, he’d probably think you’re really fake and feel awkward or uncomfortable around you.

🌺 but somehow you get really close to Matt’s brothers Nick and Chris, and with you being around all the time he starts to develop this hatred to you.

🌺 weather that be because he hates the way you act, or because he’s trying to suppress his feelings.

🌺 anyhow, he goes on to pine for you for so long.

🌺 and Nick and Chris can tell, so they hype him up to tell you that he likes you wich he ends up doing.

🌺that or like I said you’ve known each other for long. In wich case Matt’s been hating you since forever.

🌺 he doesn’t even know why it started, he just hates you.

🌺 he also doesn’t go flaunting around that he hates you like Chris would, only your inner circle and friends know you hate each other.

🌺 despite not saying it out loud, your hatred for each other is intense.

🌺 you could barely stand being next to each other.

🌺 tho all the mean comments that were made were made in your mind, you barely ever said anything out loud.

🌺 when you two did get into a fight it would be a yelling match. Because you may be physically smaller than him, and he could probably (definitely), pick you up and throw you around if he wanted to.

🌺 you could yell and you could yell loud.

🌺 your comments are creative, mainly from how much you hung out with Nick.

🌺 also, your hatred for each other didn’t dim down your friendship with Nick or Chris, mainly because you are so quiet about your hatred.

🌺 usually you’d win the argument just because you had a retort for practically everything Matt could say.

🌺 you had to do everything together, because of how close your families are.

🌺 so all three of your would go to the gym together, or to parties, and school, and whatnot. You shared plenty of classes with Matt too.

🌺 you’d watch each other closely. Not to admire, but to criticize the other in your head and figure out small weaknesses about the other to used in future outbursts.

🌺 over time tho that started to change. You’d notice all the small stuff about each other.

🌺 Matt started to unintentionally do stuff to make your day to day life easier.

🌺 he’d find random reasons to take AUX from Chris and give it to Nick instead. All because nicks music taste is closer to yours

🌺 or when he was cut if fruit for himself and you were home he’d leave some cut on the counter for whoever would take them, hoping it’d be you.

🌺 he noticed what brand of lipgloss you use and got it and put it in his car where you usually sit on your way to school, because the knows you tend to forget your stuff and get all upset.

🌺 you don’t notice any of this tho. Especially the lipgloss one. You just assume that you forgot the lipgloss in the car the day before and don’t think anything of it.

🌺 you, or well your parents would buy soda. You had always made it a point to never get root beer. But recently you’d gotten a few cans and put them in the fridge. You don’t even like root beer that much.

🌺 your brother doesn’t mind them tho. So sometimes he’d drink them, and you just told yourself you were getting them for your brother and definetly not for Matt.

🌺 in the fridge you always had coke cherry, Pepsi, and Fanta, but now also root beer.

🌺 you started to be able to read Matt like a book. Well you could before too, but before you only cared about what he was possibly judging you for, now you noticed everything.

🌺 one day you were in your shared class with Matt. You’d noticed that he was tense all day. Suddenly he ended up getting up taking his stuff and storming about of the classroom.

🌺 you were shocked at first. Matt was never confident enough to just leave like that, right?

🌺 you had a gut feeling that submerging was definitely wrong, so you packed up and followed him. Something that you wouldn’t have done a few months ago.

🌺 he was standing at the front door to the school. You rushed up to him to see him crying and hyperventilating.

🌺 you guided him outside to his car. You put him in the passenger seat. And since you can drive you drove to a parking lot down the road from your school.

🌺 that was the first time you weren’t internally mocking him. You felt empathic and sorry for him.

🌺 the line between hatred and love was always thin, but it started to blur more and more as the days passed.

🌺 when the triplets started to gain fame on YouTube, and were planning on moving to LA, Nick asked you to move with them.

🌺 since you’re childhood best friends Chris and Nick ‘wouldn’t know what to do without you’. (You just know how to cook and they wanted you there as their personal chef 💀)

🌺 since you weren’t going to collage anyway and still had you side job from back in high school, you quit.

🌺 you started to post more on TikTok and gained a following.

🌺 if you told freshmen you that you’d live in the same house as Matt in the future she’d laugh in your face.

🌺 it wasn’t clear when your dynamic had shifted fully, but once it had it was almost like you were dating.

🌺 if Matt was sitting on the couch watching a movie and you wanted to watch they movie too, you’d sit close to him and cuddle.

🌺 if you were making a snack , you were making two. One for Matt, one for you. If Matt didn’t want it, anyone could have it for.

🌺 if Matt went grocery shopping with one of his brother she made sure to get your favorite soda, and also the to follow the list of things you need home that you’d sent him.

🌺 the fans thought you were dating. But not for no reason either. There were plenty of reasons.

🌺 when Matt, Nick and Chris got their nails down for the first time, Matt got the same color as you.

🌺 if you were bored he’d let you paint his nails, or you’d cuddle or you could play with his hair.

🌺 at that point Chris and Nick were convinced that you’d gotten over your hatred, or that you’ve always had loved each other and were finally dating.

🌺 but you weren’t. And when Nick asked Matt about it he tried to deny it.

🌺 yet now the idea was in his mind, and sure enough he got you your favorite flowers and finally asked you out.

Nick sturniolo

🌺 when Nick hates you, he hates you with a passion. He’s a born hater after all.

🌺 but then again he hates you so much that he would like to avoid anything and everything that has to do with you.

🌺 you guys share one class, and he skipped that class so many times until his brother started to force him to go

🌺 you’re on the same lacrosse team as his brothers. So Nick would have to decide between not going and avoiding you, or going and supporting it brothers.

🌺 his brothers would always get a mouthful before and or after the game.

🌺 because you are a lacrosse jock Nick thought you were straight. After all you had girls swooning all over you all the time.

🌺 and Nick, up until sophomore year, had so much internalized homophobia in him.

🌺 you didn’t really come out either, but when Nick came out you heard through the grape vine.

🌺 while Nick was all for hating you it was almost one sided.

🌺 you two would rarely get into arguments, because of how little you talk, but when you did it was mainly just nicks angry ranting.

🌺 you wouldn’t reply. Because Nick has a way with words. He’d find a way to twist and turn your words in a way to make an even worse arguments and you didn’t want to fuel the fire.

🌺 once Nick came out he realized just how attractive he thought you were.

🌺 on your lacrosse games he wasn’t even watching his brother, just you.

🌺 your parents weren’t homophobic, but because of how jocky you are they didn’t think that you were gay.

🌺 you first came out to Matt and Chris, just because they’re one of your closest friends, and Nick is gay, so they should accept it right?

🌺 they took it great, and you got the confidence to come out to your parents too.

🌺 Chris and Matt had promised they wouldn’t tell anyone. And they stood with that they hadn’t even told Nick.

🌺 one day you were having yet another argument with Nick, but this time instead of letting his mouth run like you usually would, you pressed your lips in his.

🌺 you didn’t even know if Nick was into you like that. You just needed him to shut up for once.

🌺 Nick kissed back, wich was a whole surprise on its own.

🌺 you ended up telling Nick that he needs to shut the fuck up, and use that mouth for something good.

🌺 that was the first time Nick sucked dick.

🌺 you had gotten head from some random girl before, wich made you realize just how little you were into woman.

🌺 yet when Nick did it, it just turned you on so much.

🌺 after that the next week Nick avoided you even harder. No backhanded comments, not glares from across the room. nothing.

🌺 you went to nicks house, knocking on the door you prayed it’d be Nick that answered.

🌺 he did, and he almost shut the door into your face too embarrassed to even meet your eyes.

🌺 but you grabbed the door and pushed it back open, inviting yourself in.

🌺 “Nick, we should talk.” “No.”

🌺 Nick is stubborn when he wants to be. And he will ignore everything and anything in his way.

🌺 “please just listen” “what the fuck is there to talk about? I didn’t even fucking know you were gay until I was sucking your dick!”

🌺 just when you were about to respond you saw Matt and Chris out of the corner of your eyes.

🌺 your eyes widened and you groaned loudly. You rubbed your face. He just couldn’t have said that louder.

🌺 Nick was embarrassed too when he saw his brothers behind him.

🌺 he ended up pulling you to his bedroom where you finally talked things out.

🌺 Nick was dead set on not officially dating you until you’d taken him out on a date and properly asked him.

🌺 wich is just what you did.

Masterlist

A/N: Never written hcs before, but this was rlly fun to write, so if you guys got any idea that’s with either of the three, or all three, I wouldn’t mind writing it. Req & asks open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog , @jetaimevous , @imwetforyourmom , @yoongslvr69

[deadlynavigation]

Pretty & Pink

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: request from @cecebabs !! school has been kicking my ass lately so just bear with me yall 🥲

Navigation

**gif is not meant to be a representation of what reader looks like**

Opposites attract—or at least, that’s what they said. Wednesday had never put any stock into the saying until he met you.

You were a bright little thing, full of happiness and hope and all the other disgusting emotions. But Wednesday endured, because at the end of the day, you held his heart in your manicured hand.

Every once in a while, though, he’ll question what he’s doing. Like tonight, for instance. It had been a long day. The errands that had been piling up over the week were finally accomplished a few hours ago, and it was exhausting. So exhausting that all he wanted to do was collapse in the nearest bed, no matter the owner or location. And since you didn’t want your partner to end up in some alleyway mattress, you dragged him over to your apartment, where he was currently camped out on your bed.

“You doing okay in there, sweetie?” You call to him from your bathroom, hands dripping with water as you rinse your cleanser off.

“Yes, my love. Are you done yet?” Wednesday calls back. He knows his question is in vain, though. Your skincare routine is a long ordeal, and you’ve only just started.

He hears your soft laughter float through the air. “I’ll be right out.” You respond, picking up a serum.

Wednesday decides he can’t wait, heading into the bathroom and settling behind where you stand. You greet him with a smile, picking up the next step of your routine to show to him.

“It’s a new moisturizer I got today,” You explain. “It’s supposed to be good for dry skin, and with all the nasty weather lately…”

Wednesday doesn’t hear the rest of your rant, focusing instead on those pretty eyes of yours. Oh, how he longs to drown in them. To sink into their depths, seeing the world from your hopeful view. Unpacking all your thoughts, understanding and empathizing.

Listen to him. He’s practically a puddle of mush. What have you done to him?

“...Wednesday, baby?” You tilt your head as Wednesday snaps back into reality. “Were you even listening?”

He takes one more second to stare at you before sheepishly shaking his head. “Deepest apologies, cara mia. There are simply too many pretty parts to you, I cannot focus on every one of them at once.”

You giggle, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Maybe I should turn away, then. Stop distracting you with my wiles.”

Wednesday smirks. “Turning away from me would entice me even more, Y/n. You really want to play that game?”

“Oh my god. Ok, I’m not facing you anymore. You’ve lost that privilege.” Your cheeks are on fire now, and if you maintain eye contact any longer, you’re worried you might burst into flames. True to your word, you pivot to face the mirror. Then, using your arms, you hop up onto the counter, climbing into the sink for an optimal view.

Wednesday nearly has a heart attack as you jump. His hands fall into place, ready to catch you or save your head from a nasty bang should your acrobatics go wrong, but once you’re in place, he sighs loudly.

“Must you do that, my love?” His seriousness is ruined by a smile creeping onto his face.

“Sorry, can’t hear you. This moisturizer requires my full attention.” It’s hard tamping down your own smile, but the teasing seems to be worth it as Wednesday’s stare darkens.

“The moisturizer gets your attention, hm? That’s a dangerous game, cara mia.”

You don’t respond, instead dipping your finger into the container and dotting it on your cheeks.

“Come down from that sink so we can see who really has your attention right now.” Wednesday taunts you. After a couple seconds, you give in, closing up the product and carefully setting it down before jumping back down onto the floor. Within seconds, Wednesday takes a step and sits on the edge of the bathtub, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you along at the same time. Before you know it, you’re sat on his lap, a smirk on his face and a shocked look on yours.

“Attention still on skincare, love?” Wednesday teases.

You give up on the facade. “No,” You breathe, leaning in. “But what if I share my attention with it?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow as you get up, reaching into the bottom drawer of the counter and coming back to him with a small package. You sit back down, ripping it open and tossing the top in the trash.

“Want a face mask?” You ask.

“Is that one of those grotesque concoctions that spreads all over your face? The one that looks like a death mask?” Wednesday questions, but you’re already reaching into the package.

“Exactly, baby. Want one?”

“...Sure.” What’s the worst that could happen?

Twenty minutes later, and Wednesday is set up on your bed with no intention of moving. A green substance covers the majority of his face, making him question why he doesn’t let you do this more often. He feels more relaxed than he has in weeks, settled in amongst your many pink throw pillows and cherry blossom sheets. You’re settled in too, resting your head on his chest while trying to sync your breaths with the steady thumps of his heart. Your manicured fingers etch random shapes into his skin, tracing the hard lines of muscle and adding a heart or two every so often.

Eventually, though, the both of you become restless.

‘Wanna start a movie?” Wednesday asks, looking down at your comfy self with adoration.

You look up, meeting his eyes with the same love. “Can I choose?”

“Of course, Y/n. Anything for you.”

An hour later, and Wednesday is ready to commit homicide. Of all the movies you could have picked, you went with Mean Girls. Your defense? “It’s the feminist movement at its finest, Wednesday.”

“It’s… very pink.”

“Yeah, that’s the best part! All the decorations and outfits are amazing. They were actually part of what inspired this room’s decor.”

Wednesday looks around at the brightly colored walls, the pastel curtains, the cute pillows, and even the pink pens scattered across your desk. “I never would’ve guessed, my love.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous.”

Wednesday chuckles. “Yes, very.” He agrees sarcastically. You don’t dignify him with a response, instead choosing to lay back down on his chest and go back to watching the movie. You don’t get to stay there for very long, though, because a minute later, the timer on your phone goes off.

“Mkay. Time to take this off, babe.” You poke his face mask. Wednesday rises without complaint, heading to the bathroom while you grab some water and a cloth. Internally, though, he’s begging you not to. It feels so nice, and having you apply it was one of the best feelings in the world.

As you start working through the layers of the mask with water and a gentle hand, though, Wednesday revises his thoughts—never mind the application. This was the best feeling in the world.

As you work, Wednesday leans into your hands. He would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for your whispered promises of comfy beds and pillows and cuddles.

*****

The next morning, Wednesday gets up much earlier than usual. The sun is just barely up, peeking through your pastel curtains and coating the bed in a buttery yellow. You’re burrowed into his arms, tucked safely into his chest with the messy blankets surrounding you. He takes a minute to absorb your cuteness, smiling down at you as he slowly wakes up.

“Good morning, Y/n.” He whispers, not yet wanting to wake you. You’ve reminded him time and time again that the blinking digits on the clock right now are not digits you ever want to be awake to see, and he’s taken that to heart. But he still has to kill time until you wake–maybe a run? He could drop by the gym just down the street that he really likes. Or maybe a chore? The dishwasher still needs to be unloaded.

But those all sound like too much work for this early in the day, so Wednesday settles on just getting you a coffee. A nice five-minute walk and your drowsy smile to greet him when he gets back. Perfect.

Within minutes, Wednesday is up and out. He strolls down the street, taking his time to enjoy the soft sunlight. That’s new, he suddenly realizes–and probably your doing, as well. You’re a fan of tilting your face to the sun, soaking in the warmth, and claiming the rays cheer you up. Maybe you’ve passed that onto him.

A couple more minutes tick by, and Wednesday reaches your regular coffee shop. He enters the place with a little jingle as the door opens, and is immediately greeted with the scent of dark coffee and light chatter.

“What can I get for you this morning, sir?” A too-happy employee asks him as he walks up to the counter.

Damn, what was that drink you really liked? Something with pink in it, he’s sure of it.

“Just two medium coffees, one black and one with that pink flavor, please.” Manners with normies–that’s another thing you’ve unknowingly reinforced with him.

“Our pink velvet flavoring?” That sounds right.

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks.” Wednesday pulls out his card, handing it to the guy.

“Awesome. Name?”

“Addams.”

“We’ll have those coffees right out for you, sir.”

“Brilliant.” With that, Wednesday finds an isolated corner to haunt until his name is called, quickly grabbing the coffees and exiting the building. It’s an even quicker walk back with the warm drinks providing some heat on this chilly morning.

It’s a bit of a struggle, but Wednesday manages to buzz into the building, climb the stairs to your apartment, and work the keys until your door clicks open, all with his hands full. He’s greeted with the sight of you half-asleep on the couch, the news playing softly in the background.

“What are you doing up, love?” He questions, setting the coffees down on the coffee table and kneeling on the floor.

“Wanted to see you,” you mumble, grabbing for his hand and interlocking it with yours. “Was cold in the bed without you.”

Wednesday practically melts. How can one girl be so sweet and caring? So happy?

“I’m sorry, my love. But look, I got you that coffee you like to make up for it.” He gestures to the beverages with his free hand before resting it on your head. He goes about stroking your hair, lulling you back into a dreamlike state.

“Don’t do that, I’ll fall back asleep,” you bat at his hand, trying to get it out of your hair. You were up to see him, not to fall asleep on him.

“And I will still be here when you wake up, cara mia. Go back to sleep. You’re safe here. I love you.”

[itskybabes-blog]

Duke Dennis Drabble

Duke Dennis x fem!reader (no face claim but poc!reader friendly)

Part two: The Confession

Disclaimer: this is written by a dyslexic person – please forgive any grammar and spelling errors

TW: swearing, drinking and using derogatory language

Plot: After your big night at an AMP pool part (that you probs won’t remember tomorrow), you finally let your lil’ secret slip.

Word count: 672

ICYMI: part one

“What the fuck am I doing?” You slurred back in confusion. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You rise up from the bed and try to point your finger at him, but stumble forward because you was unaware of your own strength. Duke has to catch you before your pearly whites were scattered all over his floor.

“See, man,” Duke whines with you in his arms, “this is what I’m talking about”.

You move out his arms and squint your eyes at him, trying to focus on all three of him at once.

“Y/N, you can’t stand up straight. You got yourself stupid drunk and started twerking on everyone. Your nipple was fucking hanging out like you’s some fucking whore or sum,” Duke rants.

“Whore?!” – you sober up real quick – “You’re calling me a whore?” you exclaim back, shoving finger quotation marks in his face.

“Meanwhile, you’re here, throwing this stupid party full of thirsty clout-chasing bimbos who only wanna suck your dick, get your Ps and cut! Fucking lodging your tongue down some random girl’s face – you’d be lucky to not have herpes, right now!” You lay into him, using whatever left over competence you have. Dutch courage is certainly real.

“Whore?” You said again, this time with a soft chuckle - which we all know is not good. Duke knows you found nothing funny but couldn’t care because “you’re a fucking embarrassment!”

“Oh my fucking gosh, more fucking names,” you said with a dramatic sigh. You begin to pace around: “What else am I? A slut? A bitch? What else am I, Duke? Tell me!”

You end up in a couple centimetres away from Duke with a face full of fire and push him weakly (pathetically) away from her. His look of disgust softens – maybe he was being a little harsh.

So, he takes the punk move: “You know what, I don’t care. This is not even worth it, man. Fucking drunk!”

That one snapped a heartstring. Duke’s back faces you as he had his hand on the knob.

“You don’t care? You never cared about me, did you?” You come back at him.

“What?” He looked back, utterly confused you’d ever say that.

“You never fucking cared. I’m meant to be someone special to you – your best friend – and you only ever want me around when you don’t have a fuck buddy around. When you need a girl to make you look good when your hotline hoe ain’t picking up,” you start to spew some of your deep feelings.

Duke lets go of the handle and leans against the door. “Y/N, I-“

“You don’t fucking care about me. I fucking hop on a 2-hour flight weekly to see your ass and look all pretty for your stream. Then, you kick me out to entertain a next bitch, passing me off to the rest of the bros like I’m some community hoe. You never fucking cared about me. You never fucking did. You-“

“Are you jealous?” Duke saunters back to you, grinning. His diamond grill playing tricks with your hooded eyes.

“Huh? Where you get that from?” You feel your cheeks burn, turning your head to the side.

“As a friend, you care too much about my roster,” Duke tries to explain. He drops his head to try and make you look him in the eye, but you keep avoiding his accusatory gaze.

“You talking like we fucking or sum,” Duke continues to press you.

“Why would I want you, like, what? Like, that’s- Ha! Ewwww,” you try to act repulsed but you never got an A in drama. Your acting skills are subpar.

“Oh, OK. Just know: I’d drop my roster just for you.”

Your head whips around and look Duke square in his face. A goofy and toothy smile plasters across his face.

“You fucking play too fucking much. You can’t be trying to tease me and shit. Why would I fucking want you? You never cared about me before, why the fuck no-“ Duke’s pillowy lips press intensely on yours.

“Girl, shut up.”

“Yes, sir.”

A/N: here’s the second part! Now, I really hate writing smut so pls forgive me but I’m skipping over that. Pls enjoy this quick update :)

[m00mis]

i just read your svt shoelace scenario and it's so cute! idk if you're taking requests but if you are can you please do a "svt reacting to their s/o calling them bro" scenario? if you're not feel free to ignore!

thankyou !! i am totally taking requests pls feel free to ask :)

{ also i hope i interpreted your request properly ㅠㅠ im overthinking as usual }

svt reacting to their s/o calling them bro

cheol - he would be shocked and so offended like "bro??? me?? what?? i'm not your bro what are you talking about?? tchh bro? seriously? what happened to 'babe'? 'baby'? 'cheollie'? 'the love of my life'?" goes on a whiney rant about how he is not your bro, he is your baby and won't drop it for two weeks and only responds to you with "ok bro" so you know how it feels

jeonghan - he didn't realise what you said and would reply as if nothing had happened. that is not in your usual vocabulary so it went straight through him but in the middle of the night he would wake up in a cold sweat muttering "bro.. she called me bro?" and would text you right then at 3am to never call him bro again. creepy asf.

joshua - would suddenly look up at you with those big eyes and confused smile ("huh?") which made you super embarrassed because why is he looking at you like you have committed terrible crimes and now you are running away and oh god he's chasing after you

jun - you were eating together and he would burst into laughter but when he sees you're not laughing he slowly realises that this was serious business and he just points to himself with a mouth full of food saying "me? i'm your bro?"

hoshi - oh great what have you done. now he only calls you bro. "hey my bro ! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>". yep. the rest of the members think you two have somehow regressed back to the friendzone with hoshi being happier than before??

wonwoo - is shocked and sweetly asks why you said bro, but you can't explain and he has the biggest grin on his face, chuckling because it was so absurd and he can't get over it. it's so funny to him that he tells all the members and he never forgets it. one of his fondest memories of you

woozi - the atmosphere is so tense after it slipped out of your mouth but suddenly he bursts out laughing and folds in half "you actually... actually just called me bro..!? i can't... can't believe it PSHAHAAA" between wheezes . funniest thing to him

dk - would hit him like a ton of bricks "is that what i am to you? a bro?" and is so upset you're basically begging on your knees for him to forgive you but he can't even hear anything you're saying because he's trying to figure out what he did wrong in your relationship for you to call him bro so nonchalantly .. heart brocken fr 💔

mingyu - you can tell it's echoing around his mind as he's off staring into space in absolute disbelief.. you start laughing at his dumbfounded expression so he starts smiling in confusion, "what? what was that? why did you say that? tell me!" and you have collapsed because his reaction is so funny. he's all whiney and rolling around on the sofa because he is so hurt

minghao - i think he would somehow turn it into a psychological thing and ask why you think of him as your brother and if you had any good brotherly figures growing up to try to figure out what is going on for you to call him bro. basically he would use it as an excuse to understand you more cuz he lovs u

seungkwan - would drop everything to judge you with that look in his eyes and the pressure would be so intense that you immediately apologise. he is never letting this go. occasionally calls you bro just to embarrass you because he loves seeing you all worked up

vernon - "sup bro". "sup" . thats it. sorry but he would be so unbothered. starts dapping you up every time he sees you followed by a lil kiss.

dino - half-jokingly goes "was that a mistake? im letting you off this time. watch your back" and does the 'i'm watching you' finger eye point thingy(?) while backing out of the room and when he's out of view he runs to the bathroom to let out his laughter because he can't believe how weirdly cute you were. talks to himself in the mirror about it.

[clemkruckinnie]

Can you write something like your ‘first time’ fic with Dalton, except the reader is a virgin and Dalton isn’t, maybe Dalton is the reader’s first bf too?

rocky road- d. lambert

a/n: i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this! appreciate yall so much <333

it’s one of the first warm days on campus, after a long and brutal winter.

the courtyards are full of your classmates, the dorms practically empty as everyone tries to soak up the first few rays of sunlight.

you and your boyfriend, ever the introverts, decided to take advantage of the empty dorms, grabbing ice cream from the place right outside campus and eating it on his bed. dalton’s never been the type for a big social gathering, preferring his own company to anyone elses’. that is, until he met you. you, with your bright smile and warm personality, always ready to listen to his ramblings, or just let him sit in silence with you.

that’s what you two are doing today, finishing off your ice cream and taking turns catching up. dalton’s in the middle of a rant about his partner for a group project, when you notice a smear of his rocky road ice cream on his cheek.

“so i emailed my professor to let her know bryson had done zero percent of his- hey!”

without thinking, you’d leaned forward, licking the side of his face.

“what? it’s too good to waste.” you defend yourself. “i’m listening, keep going.”

“that’s pretty much it.” dalton shrugs, “that’s all i was gonna say before you licked me.”

you shrug, smiling.

“ok, you go next. did your roommate finally break it off with that tinder dude?”

“no! i don’t understand why. dal, when i tell you this man is the literal worst-“

your ice cream drips onto your thigh, the coldness stunning you momentarily.

the story you were about to tell dies on your tongue as dalton’s meets the skin of your thigh, licking off the drops of ice cream off your skin.

he comes back up, running a hand through his hair to push it back, then notices your flabbergasted expression.

“something on your mind?”

“you just-“ you gesture to your thigh, dalton raising an eyebrow.

“yeah? you licked the side of my face earlier.”

“that was your face, though, this was-“ you trail off.

dalton smiles softly at you, heat creeping into your cheeks at the way he’s looking at you.

“different?” dalton offers. when you don’t respond verbally, he shakes his head.

“tell me.”

“it was different. it felt- i just pictured-“

you sputter, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“pictured what, baby?” dalton urges you. when you look down, silent, he grabs your hand, squeezing it lightly.

“hey, i’m sorry. i know you’re a virgin and i understand if you’re not-“

“i pictured your face—lower.”

you’re not sure where the confidence came from, and judging by the way his eyebrows shoot up, neither is dalton. he puts his hand on your knee, looking at you for assurance. you nod, heart in your throat.

“lower like—“ dalton moves his hand up, towards the middle of your thigh. “here?”

“no, lower like-“ your breath catches when he finally inches his hand towards where you need him, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your shorts.

“i can make that happen,” dalton offers, “if you want.”

you nod rapidly, dalton’s intense blue eyes meeting yours.

“i need to hear it, baby.”

“yes.” you breathe out.

dalton grins at you, leaning in for a kiss. this one’s different than the other times he’s kissed you—he’s needy, desperate to get his mouth lower, and lower, and…

he leans into you, your legs parting around him as you lay back into his pillows.

he pulls back from the kiss, leaving you dizzy as he tugs the hem of your top upward.

you oblige, lifting your arms up so he can get the item off as fast as possible. it’s flung into some random corner of your room, dalton moving to your bra before you can complain.

“can never fucking— there we go.” dalton gets the clasp undone, the way he phrased it reminding you once again he’s more experienced than you. it’s not something you should be insecure about, yet it is anyway, and dalton picks up on your shift in mood.

“baby?” dalton asks , fingers still pressed into your back. “you okay?”

the softness in his voice makes your stomach flip, and before you can even attempt to lie to him, it spills out.

“i’m just worried i won’t be good enough for you.”

dalton’s gaze softens, and he moves back up. you think he’s going to kiss your lips again, but he moves up higher, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, the bridge of your nose, then, under your eye. you giggle at the feeling of his lips on your face, and feel him smile against you.

“there you are.” dalton pulls back to look at you. “you are more than good enough for me. you’re everything.”

you catch yourself nodding as you look into his eyes, almost hypnotized.

“this isn’t a competition, okay? i just wanna make you feel good.” dalton assures you. he redirects his attention back down, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders.

“let me?” he offers.

you know better than to stay silent, but what comes out of your mouth next surprises both of you.

“please.”

dalton’s pupils dilate. “oh, good girl-“

and he’s kissing you again, the intensity turned up somehow as he pulls off your bra.

before he does anything else, he pulls his own shirt off, flinging it like he did yours as he leans back into you, skin to skin.

“you’re warm.” you tell him, dalton laughing softly at your honesty.

“you are, too. and soft,” he trails his fingertips up and down your sides softly, his delicate touch making you shiver.

“you’re so responsive,” dalton tells you, “i love it. helps me figure out what feels good.”

“when i touch myself-“ you start, growing shy when you realize what you’re about to describe.

“go on,” dalton urges you, the sweetness and genuine curiosity in his gaze giving you the push you need.

“i start out by playing with my chest.”

dalton nods, sliding his hands up. he moves to cup your breasts in his hands, running his thumbs over your nipples. he groans softly as you buck into him, surprised at how quickly he’d found one of your sweet spots.

“like that?” dalton asks, already knowing his answer.

“yes.” you sigh, letting his hands work you over.

“never had a tongue on them, though. right?” dalton asks again. “bet that’d feel even better.”

“please, dalton-i wanna feel your mouth again.”

he tilts his head back slightly, adam’s apple on display before he moves back down. “you beg so nicely.”he tells you, not giving you any time to respond before he licks one of your nipples, leaning back and blowing cool air on it as he plays with the other one.

“oh-“ you moan out, dalton leaning back in to the other nipple and repeating his actions.

“look at you.” dalton marvels, sliding his hands back down again. “as fun as this is, i wanna taste you.”

the way he talks about it sends a pang between your legs, parting them further as dalton moves backwards. he reaches the hem of your shorts, grabbing the waistband and tugging as you lift your hips.

“you’re just as eager as me.” dalton jokes.

“maybe more.” you joke back. “only by a little, though.” you smile, dalton returning it before his gaze drops back down between your legs. he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down, you repeating your previous motion to fully reveal yourself to him.

“oh.” dalton marvels to himself. “baby, look at you.” before you can even think of shutting your legs, he seemingly reads your mind, grabbing one of your thighs and pressing down to keep you open for him.

“i’m gonna take my time with you.” dalton tells you, eyes flicking from yours back down to your pussy. with his free hand, he trails a finger up through your slit, slowly dragging your wetness upwards.

“dalton-“ you whine, desperate for more than what he’s giving you.

“i know, baby.” dalton attempts to soothe you. he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, fingertip ghosting over your clit.

“i need you, please-“

he pulls away, cool air settling against the patch of your skin he’d been kissing moments earlier. you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he finally has mercy on you, dragging his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with his tongue once he reaches it.

you moan embarrassingly loud, thankful that your neighbors work the night shift as he starts to work you over. he’s slow and meticulous, savoring you as you whine and gasp under his mouth. it’s almost too much, and you find yourself squirming underneath him.

he puts a stop to that quickly, wrapping his arms around your thighs and tugging you closer to his face.

“don’t run from me.” he warns you, the seriousness in his voice making you dizzy as he continues to eat you out.

“won’t—“ you moan, voice giving out to a whine as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. “i promise, just wanna be good—wanna be your good girl.”

he moans against you, the vibrations rolling through your body as you shudder.

“fuck—gonna be the death of me.” he mutters. before you can respond, he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, whatever comment you were going to make giving way to a loud whine.

“oh my god, dalton!” you cry out, hands flying to his hair to grab onto something, anything to keep you in your body.

his jaw goes slack against you as you tug, pulling him as close as you can as he continues to lick you. your brain feels fuzzy, each stroke of dalton’s tongue feeling like a little jolt of electricity as you get closer.

“baby,” you gasp, “i’m so close, please-“

dalton speeds his motions up, looking into your eyes as he does. the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, until dalton pulls away, lips making a lewd smacking sound against you.

“do it, angel,” he encourages you, “cum on my face.”

the sultriness of the words he chooses and the harshness he sucks your clit with push you over the edge, nearly screaming dalton’s name as you cum.

he detaches himself from you, shaking his hair out of his face and moving to get on top of you.

“feeling good?” dalton asks you, only able to give him a dazed nod as your chest heaves.

“catch your breath.” he tells you sweetly, kissing your temple as you finally come down.

“i’m good. i’m really, really good.” you tell him, finally able to speak again.

“good. i can, uh-“ dalton sputters, as if he didn’t just tell you to cum on his face moments prior, “i can tell. do you want some water, or-“

“i want you.” you tell him. “i’m ready, i want you.”

“you don’t have to, i’m fine just laying here-“

“dalton, please fuck me.” you plead, his eyes darkening as you do.

“well, i can’t tell you no, not when you beg like that.” dalton relents, kissing you chastely before he pulls back to dig through his drawer.

“there we go.” he pulls a condom out of the drawer, tearing the wrapper open. he discards it soon after, pulling down his boxers and letting his already hard length spring free.

“woah.” you marvel. “is that-“

“because of you? yeah. you try listening to your girlfriend’s pretty moans with her thighs around your head without getting hard.”

you grin up at him, watching him intently as he slides the condom on, pumping himself a few times before he moves to line himself up with you.

“hold onto me.” he tells you, you obliging as he slowly starts to push himself in.

“oh-“ you gasp, clutching at dalton’s shoulder blades as his tip starts to stretch you out.

dalton pants above you, tilting his head back as he pushes in further. “so fuckin’ tight, shit—you okay?”

“yeah,” you tell him, “yeah, just keep going slow for a bit.”

dalton nods, grabbing his headboard so hard his knuckles turn white as he pushes further.

“almost all the way in,” he tells you, “you’re taking me so good, pretty girl. you ready?”

you nod, looking into dalton’s eyes as he finally bottoms out, his blue eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“oh my god-“ dalton moans, “fuck.”

the dull ache of being stretched open for the first time subsides pretty quickly, because the pain isn’t as strong as the arousal you feel from watching dalton. he looks angelic above you, face glistening, hair still messed up from your hands.

“move, dalton, please-“

he finds his pace quickly, his eagerness making your head spin as he fucks you. it’s like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to feel you like this, wrapped around him, clinging to him like he’s your savior.

“sweetest pussy i’ve ever fucked, shit-“ dalton groans, his words making your stomach flip. “‘s all mine, right? you’re all mine?”

“yes!” you whimper, scratching down his back. “i’m yours, i’m yours-“

dalton tucks his face into your neck, sucking and biting the skin there, marking you from the inside out as his thrusts get sloppier.

“i’m so fuckin’ close, you gonna cum again? gonna cum around this dick like the good girl you are?”

before you can answer, dalton brings his thumb down to circle your clit harshly, a broken moan clawing it’s way out of you.

“do it baby, cum with me, i’ve got you, i’ve-“

your second orgasm hits you like a freight train, clenching around dalton as you scratch his back.

“good girl, good fucking girl, good—oh, fuck! “

dalton’s thrusts slow to a stop as he pumps the condom full, head hanging low, strands of his hair brushing against your forehead.

he leans down farther, kissing your forehead again as you both catch your breath.

“you’re so beautiful.” dalton marvels, moving the hand not supporting him to caress your face. “how are you feeling?”

“tired.” you tell him honestly.

“aw, i wear you out?” dalton teases you. “i’m gonna pull out, ok?”

he eases himself out of you, tying off the condom before tossing it into his trashcan.

“here,” he hands you the hoodie he’d been wearing and your panties, pulling his boxers and sweatpants back up as you get dressed. he climbs back over you, pulling you into his bare chest as he lays back down.

“i can hear your heart beating.” you tell him, slinging an arm around his waist as he tucks his chin on top of your head. he rubs your back, content to just lay with you.

“get some rest, pretty girl. i’m not done with you yet.”