#they all steal and borrow one another’s clothes all the time

[ghul-wein]

Freshwater Fish

[rainyvandragon]

Oh those precious memories~

See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.

! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!

Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader

Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl

Charlie:

Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard

She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling

However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow

It doesn't even matter what

You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever

It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now

Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes

She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed

Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!

Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later

Unless she forgets again...

Vaggie:

She would never take anything you truly need or value

In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling

However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her

So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel

There was a movie night with everybody invited?

Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)

Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often

And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin

Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity

And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?

Angel:

Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!

Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it

He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex

So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind

But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent

As for other, less private things

It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them

If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick

Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress

Alastor:

Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings

He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches

Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling

As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him

One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions

If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods

However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs

Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases

Husk:

Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely

No instead he just checks for things you leave behind

Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that

You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)

At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on

Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't

The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!

Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it

Nifty:

Nifty is easily the worst of them all

She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that

What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)

Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush

Or rummage through your garbage bins

Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!

She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”

Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets

She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit

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

Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.

English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.

[randomshyperson]

Borrowed - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Wanda develops the habit of stealing your clothes, and you develop the habit of fucking her wearing them. 

Warnings: (+18), bottom!Wanda (a bit bratty), established relationship, slightly of power dynamics, dry humping/clothed for a bit, oral (w), fingering (w), strap on (w), some dirty talking, a bit overstimulation. | Words: 2.289k

A/N-> This is actually an old idea, someone on Tumblr, not sure who, wrote an image about Wanda using our favorite hoodie, and I actually love all fics that have this dynamic so I decided to do a small fic about it.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You were starting to think you were being robbed.

It was a plausible conclusion, considering how rarely you were out of uniform and the very few moments when you had the freedom to wear more comfortable clothes, and how quickly your sweatshirts disappeared from your closet.

With a frustrated sigh, and your hair still damp from the shower, you stared at the empty drawer for a long, reflective moment, trying to find solutions to the disappearance of all your hoodies.

Even after checking the other drawers, the laundry basket and even the compound's laundry room, you had no success. You were forced to make your way back to your rooms with your arms shivering from the cold, and a disappointed expression on your little mission.

Instead of returning to your room, however, you skipped to the next door, hoping to talk to your girlfriend and ask her if she had any idea where you'd forgotten your coats.

To your surprise, the answer came the same second your eyes met the figure distracted by a sitcom on the television; right there on the bed was Wanda, wearing nothing but your favorite hoodie that wasn't even the right size - nothing surprising when one steals clothes from a super soldier - but which she seemed to be making good use of.

"Wanda!" Your exclamation of surprise made her take her eyes off the DVD immediately. At first, she thought you were just saying hello, and smiled in your direction. But your face frowned and it was her turn to look at you curiously. "I can't believe you."

She makes a quick assessment of the facts in the seconds it takes for you to close the door and approach the bed; she doesn't reckon to have done anything wrong. You two spoke earlier, you even had a heated and inappropriate make-out session in the garage when you arrived, and she had dinner next to you before you left the living room to take a shower. No arguments, no news she forgot to tell you.

But you chuckled incredulously at the cluelessness on her face, and occupying the field of view between the bed and the television, you commented;

"I'm quite cold, you know that?" Wanda grinned in relief at your phrase. She doesn't have time to tease you about being clingy. You slowly lean your body towards her, effectively pinning Wanda to the mattress as you hover over her. All Wanda can do is sigh in anticipation, and her stomach feels already full of butterflies. 

"I can warm you up." She lets out an inviting sigh, but although your eyes take on a darker hue, you smirk and extend the distance again. Wanda bites her lip, trying to hold back a complaint fearing that you would torment her and make her beg for it, but you take your hands off the mattress and place them on her waist.

With gentle tugs on the sweatshirt, you comment; "I'm sure you can, darling. You look quite warm."

Another gentle tug on the fluffy fabric and Wanda understood. She didn't look the least bit guilty about being caught, though. Adjusting herself comfortably on the bed, she gave you the most innocent smile she could manage.

You pulled the hoodie up just a few centimeters, biting your lip at the thin lace panties that were the only thing separating her intimacy from your thigh now.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" You ask, your hands moving under your hoodie, teasing her skin with gentle touches that make Wanda strangle on her own breath.

She quickly denies it with a nod, but when your fingers give a warning tug to her nipples, she squeals audibly.

"S-sorry!" She panted aroused, her shaky legs trying to force you down. But your body stands firm above her, and the difference in strength never fails to leave her frustrated and terribly wet. "I just... like them. Smells like you." She confesses, hoping that her sincerity is enough for you to forgive her and help her with the throbbing between her legs.

You hum distractedly, your palms leisurely playing with her breasts under the hoodie until you turn Wanda into a whining mess underneath you.

Your firm thigh between her legs also serves as a torturous stimulation - even for you, it's hard to keep up the slow, teasing pace while you have the deliriously hot, wet sensation of Wanda's pussy rubbing against your skin. When you catch a bead of sweat running down her forehead from all the teasing, you chuckle wickedly.

"Wow, I bet this one is starting to bother you." Your hands come out to tug the hoodie down, and Wanda grunts softly, offering begging eyes to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you hot?"

She nods almost shyly, a little guilt finally slipping through her irises. Not for the act of stealing your clothes, but for the fact that she was caught and will be punished for it.

You smile, your hands settling back on the mattress so that you can lie on top of her, without wasting time to break the distance between your faces now.

Wanda moans as soon as she feels your tongue on hers, so hungry and experienced, stealing the air from her lungs and making her see stars. She struggles to match the intensity of the kiss, very much because you allow her to use your thigh as she pleases, and she is feverishly grinding herself back into your skin in search of relief of the hot knot in her lower belly. You stop kissing her when she can only return breathy moans to your lips, and decide to mark the skin of her collarbone while Wanda builds up her own orgasm, her eyes closed and her nails digging into your now shivering arms for another reason. 

It's definitely too hot - The padded hoodie is uncomfortable as the liquid arousal courses through her veins and her body jerks, but every time Wanda makes an attempt to pull the item off her, strong hands push the garment back into place. Until finally you grab her wrists and prevent further attempts while holding her firmly. 

You bite her lobe also panting against her neck next, as you let her move her hips at will. When Wanda starts to pant a little heavier than before, you can tell that she is close.

 "Are you really gonna come, baby? I never got to take your panties off." 

She opens her mouth to tell you to go ahead and take them off, but the teasing alone pushes her over the edge, and what escapes her is a throaty moan. Her body stiffens under yours, and her eyes roll back before she goes limp. You release her wrists, pulling your knee away from her over-stimulated cunt, and watch your girlfriend's satisfied, breathless expression for a moment.

When your face comes into focus again, Wanda smiles as she realizes that you were also stroking her sweaty hair out of her face.

"Hey." She greets you first, her body still twitching and tingling with pleasure. "Are you really mad about the hoodie?"

You giggle, denying it with a nod before kissing her. It's chaste because she's still trying to get back into orbit and there's no scene more beautiful to behold than Wanda Maximoff blushing in the aftermath of an orgasm.

"You can steal my clothes all you want." You assure her meekly, before sliding your hands back under the fabric. "Just keep in mind that I will want to fuck you in every one of them."

Wanda bites back a smile, sighing as she feels your fingers reach her sides to pull down her ruined panties. She swallows dryly as she realizes that you're lowering your body as well.

"I'm counting on it, darling." She murmurs quietly, hoping you won't pick up on her secret intentions. But of course you do, and let out a husky giggle against her thigh that makes Wanda sigh. "I meant-"

"Oh, I heard you well." You interrupt her, scratching your teeth into her skin and making Wanda twitch in anticipation, the muscles in her spread legs flexing. She risks looking down, only to meet your dark eyes and wince under your gaze. "How bad do you want me to fuck you, Wanda?"

She swallows dryly, her trembling hands trying to grab onto the sheets but everything is so hot and uncomfortable inside that hoodie that Wanda thinks if she doesn't undress soon she might collapse.

"Please." She mewls, her hips thrusting up towards your face. "I need you." She baits you so easily that you ignore the fact that you were trying some form of punishment. Wanda throws her head back on the pillow harshly as you nuzzle her drenched intimacy, the evidence of her last, almost embarrassing quick climax glistening in your direction. You kiss her thighs, teasing your way until she's whimpering again and you finally think you've had enough. Your tongue isn't gentle, Wanda hasn't behaved well in recent weeks as a naughty brat appearing in shorter and shorter skirts every time you need to leave the compound for a mission, or disturbing your meals and workouts with vivid images of all the other activities you could be doing that always involve her ruined beneath you.

So you're not gentle. You eat her out like your last meal, licking all over her previous climax before sucking her little clit and sinking your face between her legs, your strong hands holding her legs wide open as her body betrays her and tries to escape the pacing. The next orgasm overtakes her without any difficulties, and you haven't even fingered her yet when Wanda pours herself out for the second time that night. She's still whimpering when one of your hands lets go of her bruised thigh so that your fingers can sink into her pussy and Wanda hears the sheet rip in her palm as she tries to find some ground.

She also grabs a fistful of your hair, panting as you raise your eyes to her, your fingers in frantic rhythm inside her pussy. Breathless, she tries to hold your gaze as she risks to guide your movements:

"Yes, darling. Just like that." 

But you raise an eyebrow, and Wanda only has time to blink before all your movements are interrupted. You steal one orgasm from her as quickly as you start to build another; your hands spin her around on the bed and Wanda finds herself with her face pressed against the pillow and your body on top of hers. The rub of a familiar hardness against her ass makes her whine in need.

"It's cute when you think you're in charge." You whisper, filthily licking her neck and eliciting a loud moan from the witch. With her panties long discarded on the bedroom floor, you have no trouble pulling your rubber cock out of your pants and forcing it between Wanda's spread legs. She almost screams at the unannounced intrusion, but with the wetness of the last few orgasms, the toy slides in with ease. You pant softly as you bottom up. With your mouth inches from her ear, your hips begin a slow, steady rhythm inside her as you whisper; "It's your favorite, Wands. I left everything ready so I could fill you up just the way you like it." She whines into the pillow, clutching your fake cock tightly enough that you need to push a little harder to move. You kiss behind her ear before moving one of your hands to her tit again. Wanda's skin is burning under the warm clothes. "I put it on as soon as I got out of the shower." You let her know as you thrust deep inside her. "You really don't need to steal my clothes, baby. Hoodie or no hoodie, I would have fucked you tonight."

She comes harder than before this time, and with her impossibly tight, you don't see any point in holding back. Wanda is still coming when you fill her, the hot spurt inside her walls prolonging her climax and turning her into a babbling mess on the mattress.

You take pity on her. You pull your cock out of her fucked-up pussy, biting your lips at the sight of the leaking cum coming out of her before focusing on removing the sweaty, cum-soaked hoodie from your girlfriend's body.

Wanda tries to fight the exhaustion of three orgasms in a row, but she can barely keep her eyes open. It's been a long week.

You grip the rubber cock, adjusting your hips and rubbing the toy against Wanda's folds again, making her whine in protest, one of her hands desperate to grab your wrist and keep you out.

You hum attentively, although you don't penetrate her, you let the dildo slide on top of her clit, enjoying the way Wanda struggles to keep still.

"Had enough?" You ask even though you're able to watch her pussy clenching desperately at the emptiness, her body instinctively begging for more. Wanda gasps, her hips trying to buck away from the overstimulation only for her to end up rubbing against the bed during the attempt and eliciting a pathetic whimper from herself.

"Five." She gasps breathlessly. "Five minutes."

Your hips move away, and you stand up to remove your clothes while Wanda twitches and tries to catch her breath again on the bed. 

She reacts immediately to the lack of your warmth against her, seeking your presence by turning her head. An exchange of glances is enough to let you know that she just needs the time it takes for you to get the handcuffs from the bottom drawer.

[milf-harrington]

i read a fic yesterday (return of the king) where Steve swapped with Eddie at the last second at the end of s4 and ended up being the one who died and had to be left behind and then he came back as a vampire and it just got my brain TICKING.

So role-reversal AU where steve is the one who comes back basically kas-ified as is the common trope with eddie, but where eddie goes to steve, steve goes to robin.

lets say, for funsies, that they managed to kill vecna and max only ended up hospitalised for a broken elbow and a twisted ankle (from falling on it), so everyone has the time and space to grieve.

Steve’s death hits Robin the hardest because he was her person. He was her i-wish-we-could-just-merge-into-one-being. Her ride or die. Her soulmate. And he’d been taken from her, torn apart and left to rot in the very world he’d tried so hard to protect her from. 

The others give her space to let her mourn quietly in her bedroom, dressed in steve’s clothes and listening to his music like if she just tried hard enough she could still merge them together and let him use her lungs to breathe, her heart to pump his blood, her head to share his thoughts. that she could single handedly go from a me to a we.

And then, one day, Robin starts acting weird. She doesn’t know the Wheeler’s phone number and on her way to find it in the phone book, she found the Munson’s first, and when Eddie picks up it’s too a very chipper Robin asking for a lift to the shops where she proceeds to buy an alarming amount of red meat and refuses to answer any questions.

And she’s just- happy. She’s weird and happy and keeps calling Eddie to ask him about Dungeons and Dragons lore and if he can take her to the library or to the butcher and if he can let her borrow his jumper please? I get cold easily. And then she just keeps stealing clothes, from everyone. Sometimes she asks, sometimes she’ll just take a jacket off of the back of a chair and act like nothing happened, sometimes she just sneaks off to go rooting through washing baskets.

Then comes the day she invites Eddie over, probably a week or so after her initial journey into Weird-Ville, nervously rambling about nothing right up until she closes the front door behind them and runs into Eddie’s back because Eddie’s just spotted Steve-fucking-Harrington peering at him from around the corner. 

Apparently, a not-exactly-dead-anymore Steve crawled through Robin’s window one night and has since taken up residence underneath her bed. 

“He was kinda- not all there, at first.” She tells him, chopping a steak into cubes and dropping them into a blender. Steve, winged and fanged and tailed, leans against the counter and watches her with sleepy eyes. “But we’ve been working on it.”

After the initial pants-shitting shock of having her dead best friend re-appear as a creature of the upside down, Robin had simply accepted it and moved on. Happy to have Steve back no matter what it looked like. 

And what it looked like was blending raw meat, and reading together in the bathroom to bring back his ability to talk, and stealing clothes for the veritable nest Steve was building in her closet. The next step in her plan to re-domesticate her best friend, had been to introduce him to another person: Eddie, evidently. 

Steve promptly spends 5 minutes being a feral little creature, scenting Eddie within an inch of his life like he’d done to Robin, and then attempting to plant him in his nest like a little ornament. 

Just. idk. feral kas!steve seeking out robin for safety, who slowly re-introduces him to his humanity and then his future boyfriend.

[cho-aaacho]

—My Little Honey

Masterlist

Summary : Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of Gojo's favorite sweaters, stealing his warmth, borrowing his kiss, or basking in all the beauty he shares. So this time, you've decided to steal his sweater. Who knows, he would love this?

"Sensei, could you pass this on to Gojo-sensei?"

"What's this?"

"His sweater. Ijichi-san did the laundry a few days ago, but he hasn't had the time to give it to him. Can you help me out? Thank you, sensei."

You just nodded as Megumi strolled in horror, still wondering why he acted like that all of a sudden. Megumi has always managed to keep his cool in front of everyone. So there's no chance he fears Gojo's presence, right?

A sigh escaped you as you observed Megumi running, chatting with Toge, Panda, and the others. It appeared they were engaged in some discussion, perhaps gossip or something stupid.

You noticed that those kids glanced at you before hurrying towards the entrance and disappearing into another atmosphere.

What could be going on in their minds? Were they scheming something absurd again?

But you're trying to forget all that.

They're likely plotting another scheme like they've been doing to you for the past two months. Like accidentally locking you and Gojo in the teacher's room, switching your sweater with his, or some other trivial prank.

You can't fathom why they're so foolish. Like, why on earth would they lock up Gojo in a room with you? Gojo can practically blow up the school if he wants.

"A sweater?"

You gaze in wonder at the paper bag, tilting your head for a better view. A black fabric with a baby blue gradient peeks out of it. Sending you a sweet memory deep in your mind when smelling the softener.

Seated on the bench, you ponder for a moment, and you find yourself lost in thought, remembering when Gojo wore that sweater.

You rarely see him in casual clothes at school. He always sports that black uniform akin to Megumi's. So, when your gaze falls on him wearing that sweater, revealing his pristine azure eyes, it comes as a shock.

The gentle gradations of blue and black fabric wrapped around his tall figure, paired with gray pants and sporty shoes. He looks much younger than you had imagined.

At first, you didn't even recognize him, assuming he was just some random guy at school. However, after a mumbled comment from Kusakabe, it dawns on you that this gentleman is none other than Gojo Satoru.

You still remember the aroma wafting around your presence, clueless about its cologne brand. It's subtle yet spicy, with an intoxicating fragrance that transports you to another atmosphere. He smells incredibly nice.

As Gojo glides towards you, you realize he's surprisingly tall, with his fingers remarkably pretty and neatly trimmed. The way he talks makes you melt every time he calls your name under those kissable lips.

How can this man be so charming, leaving you dumbfounded every time?

Sometimes you have a wild thought about wearing one of his favorite sweaters. Imagine the soft fabric wrapped tightly around your body, perhaps making you dance under the moonlight until intoxicated.

It's so random, but you crave that experience. You have a weird desire to steal his warmth, borrow his kiss, or bask in all the beauty he shares. 

However, you couldn't really do that, could you? After all, you're a teacher like Gojo. The higher-ups might find it weird if they caught wind of such thoughts about your coworker.

So you simply sat there, patiently waiting for Gojo Satoru to arrive, and handed him the sweater. You wonder what outfit he wears this time. Maybe something cute or cool. 

Humming to pass the time, you had no idea how long you had been waiting for Gojo. According to Kusakabe, Gojo was engaged in a long conversation with Yaga, indicating something important, especially since he had just returned from Africa.

As twilight blankets the horizon, its orange hue tenderly caresses your body, filling your mind with positive thoughts.

Once again, you find yourself gazing at the sweater, almost breathless, as weird thoughts flood your mind. 

An irresistible urge consumes you, telling you to steal the sweater and take it home. Imagine yourself wearing it while you're sleeping. Imagine that Gojo gives it to you as a gift.

You don't care if Gojo might catch you and claim you as a thief. You have to do it.

It was just a little thing; Gojo wouldn't be angry.

So, you took the sweater from the paper bag, feeling the soft fabric caress your fingertips as the scent of fresh detergent danced to your nostrils.

Gazing at the sweater for a moment, you lost yourself in thought, and you found yourself drowning in a desire for him—Gojo Satoru.

You might come across as a bit creepy this time, really, but who can judge you when you have such adorable coworkers? Everyone can lose their minds too.

You swiftly put on that sweater, feeling the warmth from its fabric snugly enveloping your presence. A gentle blush tinged your cheeks as the thought of Gojo hugging you from behind flooded your sweet dreams.

Is it real, or is it just a dream?

"So sweet... So warm. I wonder if Gojo-san is always this warm..."

However, before you have time to change your mind and put the sweater in the paper bag, you feel like someone is tapping on your shoulder—not a forceful touch, but a tender and gentle one.

"Of course I always have this warmth, sensei; do you want to feel that too?"

As you turned your head, there he was—Gojo Satoru—standing right there with a gentle smile gracing his lips. His silver hair is caressed by the hues of orange and red from twilight, making his presence look adorable.

You don't even know how long he has been standing before you. Perhaps he witnessed the way you unfolded his sweater, wearing it as if it were yours and hearing how much you adored it.

"Eh... Gojo—"

"Why are you so surprised? You look like you've seen a ghost. But I wasn't a ghost!"

He tilted his head for a better view, letting out a cute chuckle while casting curious glances at you.

Froze. You stood frozen there. Blurred and foggy. Breathless. How could he stare at you with such eyes? It makes you fall deeper and deeper into his ocean-blue eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to wear your stuff, Gojo-san."

"Eh? Do you think I was angry at you? No. Why would I be angry with someone as nice as you? Beside..."

He leaned in, keeping his head close to yours, and paused between your ears. You could feel Gojo's breath brushing against your ear and his sweet lips almost caressing your earlobe.

Whispering softly, he said, "I won't tell anyone about this, because it's quite embarrassing, right?"

Foggy eyes.

Trembling. 

Heart pounding.

Rapidly.

Crimson cheeks.

Helpless.

Why did Gojo Satoru do this? Was he merely teasing you? Did he have a desire to see your embarrassment?

Why?

"I bought too much cake, and I want to share it with you. So, maybe you could join me at my apartment, and you'll have the chance to explore all of my sweaters. What do you say?"

This time, Megumi's prank really worked. But did Gojo call it a prank too?

[symbiomancy]

LAUNDRY —ryomen sukuna

summary: Step-brother Sukuna finds your panties. He's only borrowing; you'll get them back later.

cw: stepcest, masturbation, panty stealing

wc:. 1,2k

also on ao3

Coexisting with you is unbearable.

You’re everywhere, he can’t escape the traces of your existence. What was once just his room and Yūji’s room with a small guest room (that they moreso used as a storage space than an actual bedroom) on the second floor of the house, is now their rooms and yours.

He can’t escape. The lingering smell of your perfume—strawberry—and an array of body and face products, make-up, hair items littering all surfaces of the second-floor bathroom. Time and time again he removes your shampoo and conditioner bottles from his shelf in the shower only to find them there again within the week. You leave your clothes all over the place, all of them skimpy, barely covering your chest and ass when you prance around the house—he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you wearing a bra, always averting his eyes from the stiff peaks underneath your cropped shirt whenever you breeze by.

Sukuna stares at yet another pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. Fuck, you’re messy, leaving your stuff everywhere that isn’t your room. He’d folded one of your black shirts with his laundry the last time he ran the dryer, had grabbed your strawberry yogurt from the fridge because it was right next to his unflavored yogurt and the cartons look exactly the same—fuck, he’s essentially been walking you to and from school like some sort of bodyguard or a lame boyfriend for nearly two months because his father had asked him to show you the way the first week or so.

Coexisting is unbearable and yet it is utterly impossible to escape your presence.

He grabs the crumpled clothes, intent on throwing them at your head when he walks past your door to his room but something catches his eye. Right there, in the middle of the pile, nestled between what he thinks is an unholy union between a skirt and a pair of shorts and a shirt that’s more zipper than fabric. He pulls it out of the pile—underwear—hot pink, lined with frilly lace—and runs a thumb over the seat of them. Still warm, only barely so.

He pockets the offending item and drops the rest of the pile back onto the floor where he found it. His cock is straining uncomfortably against his boxers as he slips out of the bathroom, glancing down the hall to check you’re not there, one hand in his joggers’ pockets, twisting your panties around his fingers.

He kicks his door closed and throws himself onto his bed, pulling down the waistband of his pants and boxers. His cock springs out, already hard, and slaps against his abdomen. It leaves a dribble of sticky precum on his skin. He thumbs the slit at the tip with a low hiss from the back of his throat, then drops his hand to circle the head in slow, deliberate motions.

His mind conjures up an image of you in nothing but one of those skimpy excuses for a shirt you’d pulled out the moment the season turned to mid-spring, and the pink panties in his hand, dragging them along the length of his cock. A shudder rocks through him and—no, no, that’s—that’s not his imagination, but a thinly-veiled memory of your early days in this house. He’d thrown the bathroom door open one morning to find you sitting on the toilet lid, elbows resting on your knees, brushing your teeth, white dribbling from between your lips. You’d stared at each other for a few long moments, his eyes dipping to your cleavage in the nearly see-through white shirt, your nipples perked. He only barely avoided the shampoo bottle aimed at his head.

That’s right; you’ve been a tease since the day you moved in, walking around in shorts so short he sees more cheek than fabric, not locking the bathroom door when you shower—he’s barged in to piss while you’re in the shower more times than he can count. He’s let his eyes wander from his reflection in the mirror to your figure hidden behind the opaque shower door when washing his hands.

His hand twists and curls in rapid motions around his cock, the texture of your underwear a welcome change of pace from just his hand, even though they barely qualify as underwear with how little there is to them. Yeah, you’ve seen him, held eye contact with him in the middle of the night when you’re leaned over the table, ass up, eating a sandwich while the TV played a rerun of some shitty vampire show in the background. A flimsy shirt, halfway unbuttoned, giving him a clear view of your cleavage. He didn’t miss the way your eyes dipped to his gray sweats, lingering there for a moment too long to be considered an accident. He’s not insane, no, he’s seen the lingering looks you’ve been sending him ever since that night, noticed the way you press so close to him when you need anything in his immediate vicinity, tits straining out of your shirt, caged between your upper arms as you lean over to look at something.

He’d bend you over the kitchen table if he could, plunge his cock into your wet, tight heat, and take you right there with the curtains drawn back so that anyone walking past the house could see him claiming you, filling you up with his cum.

His cock twitches in his hand and thick ropes of cum spurt out. It splatters on your panties and his joggers, and a few drops land on his chest. His chest is heaving, thin beads of sweat decorating his forehead as he breathes in the stale summer air. His muscles relax, your panties sandwiched between his hand and his softening cock, and he sinks into the mattress. A pleasant haze settles over him.

He’s a fucking pervert. Holy shit, he’s a disgusting, sleazy pervert.

Sukuna drags his free hand down his face with a long exhale to recalibrate himself.

His bedroom door opens with a flourish and you lean inside, one hand gripping the doorframe for balance, mouth open as if you’re about to say something before you abruptly stop. Your eyes dart from his face to his cock still fisted in his hand, some of the hot pink frilly lace peering between his fingers. Your face goes blank for a moment, then you manage a smile, something too saccharine to be genuine.

“I was looking for those,” you say, pointing a finger towards your underwear. “I’m doing laundry. Throw ‘em in when you’re done but don’t take too long!”

The door slams on your way out and Sukuna is left there, staring after you, jaw slack. He sits up in a flash, lets go of his cock, and hikes his pants and boxers up with one hand, the other clutching the cum-seeped pair of underwear. He almost trips over his rug in his haste to the door and throws it open.

You pause at the top of the stairs and raise an eyebrow at him, your small laundry hamper under one arm. Sukuna shakes out the tension in his shoulders and throws the balled-up underwear and you catch the pair with ease.

You stare at the pair in your hand, run a thumb over a glob of cum and press it into the fabric. Then, you look at him, smile that too-saccharine smile again, before disappearing down the stairs.

divider & banner from @/cafekitsune

[gracieheartspedro]

Snooze

Part 2 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

description: the next day, you're stuck in your own head about last night. how can joel change your mind and make you stay? spoiler, he can't.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is mainly just angst. mentions of cheating. some sexual tension and talks of sex. this skips ahead 2 months in the middle, so a slight time jump. name calling, pet names also included.

author's note: this is part two of "how long"! I wanted to get into the smut but I wanted to add this kinda as a way to guide the reader through the next parts. and yes, there's more coming! enjoy joel being soft for reader.

Maybe it was for revenge in the beginning, but Joel made you feel like the woman you wanted to be all along. 

You wake up in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe and secure. His soft snores were cute and not annoying like Tommy’s loud and obnoxious snores. His expression when sleeping was so precious, his nose wiggling and his brows not furrowed in their normal spot. When he notices you stirring, his snores fade and his eyes slowly drift open. Once he sees your staring, he gives you a lazy smile. 

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” He grumbles, stretching his legs and making his biceps flex under your neck. 

“Howdy,” You say softly. You sit up from the warmth he brings you, realizing you are still naked from your escapades. You grab a blanket from off the floor, wrapping it around yourself as you search the room for your clothes. 

“Want to borrow somethin’ from me?”

The offer sends chills down your spine. You turn to see him standing up from his side of the bed. He’s naked too, and good heavens, he’s hard. You physically couldn’t pull your eyes away from the man’s body. His upper body sculpted but as you trail down, a small pudge forming where his tummy is. Your lips twist upward, watching him sulk over to his dresser drawers. He opens the second drawer down, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants. He looks towards you, noting your expression. 

“You perv,” he groans, tossing you the pants, “My room, I can walk around naked.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, catching the pants. He’s so unserious and your laugh only enables his bad behavior. He shakes his head, opening another drawer to search for a t-shirt. He finds an old t-shirt he got at country music festival back in the early 90s. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was one of the most worn t-shirts in his collection and he was secretly dying to see it on you. 

You pull the pants over your naked bottom half, suddenly taking notice to how huge they are on you. You take the drawstrings and tie them as tight as you can get them. The pant legs would drag across the floor, for sure. You felt so tiny in his clothes. 

He walks the shirt over to you instead of tossing it at you. When you realize what shirt he’s giving you, you let out an excited squeal. 

“I used to joke to Tommy I would somehow steal this shirt from you,” you explain, snatching the folded gray shirt from him, “Finally!”

“Yeah, all you had to do is fuck me.”

It’s so blunt, it makes your excitement fade quick. When you glance up to meet his eyes, the twinkle makes you draw a conclusion. 

He’s fucking with you, dude. 

“Now it’s mine forever, motherfucker.”

His eyes widen at your response. You never cussed like that in front of him, especially when it came to calling him a name. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, girl,” He grumbles, watching you drop the blanket from your upper half, exposing your boobs do him. His dick twitches when he sees that he left a lovebite right beside your nipple. 

You were so perfect to him. 

“You’re lucky I’m sore from last night,” You murmur slipping the t-shirt over your head, “Or else I’d… I’d do dirty things to you Joel.”

He creeps forward, his eyes darkening at your suggestion. His eyebrows find their usual spot, the crease in between them growing deeper. You couldn’t help yourself. You were physically incapable of not wanting him. To think you’d spent so long with Tommy, wasting every day trying to manage his chaos, and you were missing out on this. On Joel Miller standing butt naked in his bedroom with a hard on, practically begging you to suck it. 

You were so fucked. 

“How sore?” He tucks your tangled locks behind your ear, his pointer finger finding the curve of your neck, down to your décolletage. Truthfully, you weren’t that sore, just a bit worn out from spending hours crying, only to spend more time having the best sex of your life. 

Your hand finds his, letting his fingers dance around your chest down to the swell of your breast. Just when you’re about to give in, you hear a bang on his door. 

“Dad! Wake up! I want pancakes!”

You practically jump out of your skin, throwing yourself back and away from Joel’s reach. You put your hands over your mouth, trying to disguise the slight gasp that leaves your lips. 

His lips form into a perfectly straight line, “I’ll be out in a second, kid. Can you run next door and ask Jimmy for some eggs?”

“Do I have to?”

“If you want good pancakes, yes!”

The way they talk to each other makes you smile under your hands. You hear Sarah moan in annoyance, before running out the back door and over to the neighbor’s house. Joel rolls his eyes, finding a pair of pants and a t-shirt for himself. You watch him get dressed, still standing like a puppy waiting to be released from their crate. 

“Just go upstairs and mess up the guest bed a bit, then come down and act like you just woke up. We don’t havta tell her bout you and Tommy unless you wanna.”

You contemplate his words for a moment. Maybe telling Sarah her uncle is a sociopathic cheater wasn’t the best way to start her morning. You quickly decide that you’d tell her that you two decided to take a break. 

“I’ll tell her we are taking a break or something and that I was just super upset and came over to clear my head.”

“Great idea,” He mumbles, opening up his bedroom door, “Now get your pretty ass upstairs and stumble down in like 10 minutes acting tired and sad.”

You smack his shoulder as you walk out in front of him, “I am tired and sad, asswipe.”

“All these slanderous nicknames, what happened to my good girl from last night?”

Your core clenches at the words. You knew he was toying with you and you wanted to give in so bad, but you were on a time crunch at this point. Sarah would be coming in at any second. As you try to leave Joel’s reach, you feel his hand on your shoulder. He spins you around to face you, grabbing the nape of your neck. He pulls you up, leaning down to capture your lips into a quick but eager kiss. 

You always felt self conscious about kissing in the morning because Tommy always commented on morning breath and how disgusting it was. You literally wouldn’t kiss him until you brushed your teeth in fear he would find you repulsive. Joel didn’t care though, he wanted your kisses every moment of every day. 

After getting a piece of you last night, he knew he was going to have a hard time resisting the urge to have you in his bed every night. He had a crush on you for so long, pushing aside his feelings, knowing it was so wrong to like his own brother’s girlfriend. But now his brother’s actions were finally coming to light after years of suspicion, and Joel knew this was his chance to treat you the way you deserved to be treated. 

“Git,” He says, pulling away from you, swatting your ass as you walk through his house to the staircase. As soon as you’re halfway up the stairs, you hear Sarah come back into the house. You pause, waiting for them to start talking. 

“Why’s her car up front?”

Joel pauses for a moment. You hear him taking a mug out of his cabinets, “She and Tommy got into it last night. I told her she could crash in the guest room.”

“What about?”

“Adult stuff, don’t worry bout it.”

You roll your eyes, creeping up the stairs and into the guest room. The last time you found yourself in this room, it was to sleep next to Tommy after you two drank too much with Joel and a couple friends. Thinking back to it, you remember that was the same night he told you he really didn’t want kids. You laid in the same god forsaken bed and cried until you fell asleep.

Tommy really didn’t care about you. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, him cheating on you. You just really didn’t want it to be with your own sister. But truthfully, you’re glad it was a world shattering cheating scandal. It made you never want to see his stupid face again. 

You grab the duvet off the top of the bed and throw it around. You lay in the bed, making the sheets crinkle. You needed to make it look like you actually stayed in this room, just in case Sarah peered in. 

Once satisfied with your work, you stand up and head downstairs. It had only been 5 minutes and you already smell freshly brewed coffee. It makes you smile, ready to share a cup with Joel. 

“Mornin’,” Joel says plainly, glancing up at you from the mixing bowl placed on the island. Sarah is seated at the barstools, watching her dad slave over breakfast.

“Mornin’ Millers,” You say, falsely rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you had just woken up seconds ago. 

“Weird to see you here on a Sunday morning,” Sarah comments, pulling the barstool next to her out. She wanted you to sit next to her and explain what happened, you could see it on her face. She had just turned 14, so she knew it was a curious case when her uncle’s girlfriend was crashing in the room next to hers. “You and Tommy good?”

“No, he uh,” You look up at Joel who’s stopped his stirring. You give him a look like “hey I think I may tell her the truth”, and he nods. Even if it means Sarah would look at Tommy in a different light, she should know her uncle is imperfect and capable of fucking up his life.

“He admitted to cheating on me on our ride home last night. I left him on the side of the road and called your Dad to go get him.”

Saying the story out loud sounds so absurd. It almost didn’t feel real. 

Sarah’s mouth falls open in shock and disbelief. Joel decides it’s his turn to quip up. 

“I told her she could come here and stay until she was ready to face him,” He explains, portioning out pancakes on a buttered pan, “I picked Uncle Tommy up from the side of the road and took him back to their apartment. He will probably be calling here shortly. He needs to come get his truck.”

Sarah had questions, hundreds of them. 

He seriously cheated? With who? Are you going to break up? Am I never going to see you again? How could he do this? 

What catches you and Joel off guard is when she slams her fists on the island. 

“What an asshole!”

Joel’s eyes fly open in shock, but you choke out a laugh at Sarah’s comment. 

“Hey, language,” He looks over at you, his shoulders tense, “And you shouldn’t be laughing.”

“Sorry,” You admit, standing up from the chair to find your way around to the coffee pot. You knew the ins and outs of the kitchen, so you find a coffee mug in the cabinet next to Joel. You start to pour some of the pot into your mug, just as Sarah poses a question.

“Is that my dads shirt?”

You stop your actions like you just got caught in the act. You slowly put the pot back on the heated stand, waiting for Joel to say something. Please save me, you beg silently.

“She needed pajamas last night. She was wearing her outfit from Tommy’s party, not comfy to sleep in.”

Nice save, Joel. 

You nod and try to avoid eye contact for the rest of the time Joel’s making breakfast. While Sarah continues to ask questions, you just shake your head and sip your black coffee. You usually drank it with some creamer and sugar, but you needed the bite of the coffee to bring you to life. Joel cooks pancakes, eggs, and bacon, all things you’d like to eat but after Sarah’s interrogation, you feel sick to your stomach. Joel prepares you and Sarah’s plates, putting them in front of you both. Sarah chows down immediately and you just poke around the plate, pretending you’re eating. Joel notices, watching you closely as he munches on a piece of toast. 

As you finally take a bite, the landline rings behind you on the wall. 

“Probably Tommy,” Joel swallows, heading to the phone to pick it up. He was right, it was Tommy. You hear his whiny voice over the sound of Sarah humming while she eats. He’s upset, telling Joel that he needs to find you to apologize. 

“She’s here,” Joel mutters, disregarding any emotion he may feel, “She came here after last night.”

“Why there?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Because she didn’t want to go home to your drunk ass.”

“Can you tell her I’m sorry?”

You can feel Joel tense up, finally meeting his eyes as he pulls the phone away from his ear. He looks at you, his eyes asking if you want to say anything over the phone. You don’t even think, you just snatch the phone from his grasp. 

You hear Tommy’s labored breathing over the phone, like he is crying. 

“You wanted to say something to me?”

You voice is even, not showing any emotion that is bubbling in your stomach. 

“Baby,” He stammers, “I’m so sorry.”

“Okay,” You hold your breath, waiting for the right words to say, “I want you out of the house by the end of the day. I’ll get Joel to come get you so you can ge-”

“Baby, please! Please I’m so-”

“I’m not done talking, Tommy.” You pause, inhaling quickly, “We are done, okay? I’ll have Joel come get you in an hour to get your truck that I bought for you, and you will be out of the apartment I pay for, and you will be out of my life. I don’t want apologies. I want you gone.”

You turn to see Sarah and Joel gawking at your immediate and demanding response to Tommy. It wasn’t something you were anticipating to say, but once you started, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t even think through your demands, but you knew you couldn’t stay in the bubble you were in at Joel’s house forever. You paid most the rent at your shared apartment. That truck was something you helped pay for. He needed to be gone in order for you to figure your next steps. Truthfully, after your last conversation with him, you wished you never had to speak to Tommy ever again. 

You knew that the reason he was really sorry was because he got caught and his living situation was up in the air. It had nothing to do with actually feeling bad for ruining your sense of safety and security. Tommy was a lot of things, but you did see a future with him, somehow. 

“I’ll just have Ryan bring me over there. I’m not waiting around for Joel. He seems too busy playing house with you. Stupid bit-”

The line drops and you stand there in shock. You weren’t even upset, you were angry. He was so quick to change his tune when he realized you weren’t going to be manipulated again. It made your whole body go red hot. 

“What did he say?”

Sarah was silent, unsure how to navigate such an awkward moment. You don’t even know what to say, so you just slam the phone onto the machine.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to see him when he gets over here. I may-,” You censor yourself, remembering this is probably a weird situation for Sarah. You can’t say what you really want to say. 

“What did he say?”

“He’s having Ryan bring him over to get his truck.”

“What else?”

Joel knows he had to say something to rile you up, and he knows his sorries were just conditional. You knew that too, but it hurt to hear him so bitter again. You begin to come to the conclusion that the alcohol wasn’t what made Tommy bold last night, that was just him showing his true colors finally.

You just shake your head. Joel dismisses Sarah before she can finish her breakfast, but she knew it was probably in her best interest to hide away in her bedroom anyway. She doesn’t object, just grabs her plate and carries it upstairs. 

Joel leans against the counter, waiting for you to finally speak up. You know what Tommy said is going to send him into a rage, so you bite the side of your cheek.

“’s gonna be here any moment. Do you want me to ask him what he said to you? Or would you rather share with the class?”

Ugh. 

“He said you were playing house with me.”

You don’t tell him the name he called you, it would only make him more angry. Joel brings his mug up to his lips, hissing as he slurps it up. His bows his head, wondering how he’s going to probably make this situation even worse. 

Joel wanted to say fuck it and fight for you, but that’d be selfish. He had been pining for you forever but you on the other hand, didn’t even think he was an option. You had never given a relationship with Joel a thought until last night. Tommy was always your first and final choice. You were fiercely loyal and Joel knew that. So, sure, he wanted you to drop every thought of Tommy and just stay. But he knew you couldn’t. 

You didn’t want to be the reason that Joel didn’t talk to his brother anymore. You don’t want to be the reason Sarah doesn’t have a relationship with her uncle. You felt like your feelings for Joel only complicated things. Of course they did. And what exactly were the feelings? Was it just a rush because it was so new and different? Or did Joel actually make you feel unconditionally appreciated?

You can read Joel’s expression for the first time. He’s pleading with you. 

“Sweethe-”

“I don’t want to be the reason your family falls apart,” You mutter, trying not to cry as you say it. You were surprised you even had any tears left after last night. 

Joel rounds the island, approaching you with every intention to give you a big hug. You stop him though, your hand resting on his broad chest. Your memory serves you right, mapping out the front of his chest with your finger tips, waiting for him to say something else. He doesn’t say anything though, he just roughly grabs your hips, walking you to the corner of the island. 

“Tommy is the reason our family fell apart,” He explains, lifting your butt to the edge of the counter. His hands then rest on your upper thighs, rubbing circles as you lazily wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart was racing, knowing Tommy could walk into Joel’s house like he used to. He’d see you pinned to the counter by Joel and he’d draw all his conclusions. 

“You were the cheater this whole time,” you imagine him saying. 

“He will be here any minute, Joel.” 

You couldn’t have everything blow up in your face all at once. You needed Joel to know that you were thankful for him, but you didn’t need an added stressor to your life right now. 

You look into his desperate eyes, wanting nothing more but to plant another kiss on his downturned lips.

“I am going to change and get out of your hair. I have to,” Your brain starts going a million miles a minute, trying to explain yourself, “I have to call my family. I have to… I have to rebuild my life, Joel. I’m sorry, this,” You gesture to him and yourself, “This complicates a lot. I need.. I just need time.”

He steps back, shaking his head. He knew that’d be your response. It stung, but he had to try to push aside his feelings for you. 

You hear a car door slam out front, making your nerves go into overdrive. 

“I’ll go give him his keys. Let him know you’re not interested in talkin’.”

You just bite your lip, slipping off the counter. 

“Can you tell him to leave his key under the mat when he gets his shit out? He has until tonight.”

Joel starts to bound to the front door, beating Tommy to the knob. 

“Yeah, I’ll let him know,” He turns to you finally, “And you don’t have to change. Keep my shirt. You’ve wanted it for awhile, it’s yours.”

-

2 months later

From: Joel Miller

Sarah has been begging to see you. I’m making lasagna tonight and I remembered it was your favorite. Would you want to come over ? If you’re not busy?

You had ignored most of Joel’s texts since Tommy moved out. You had spent the last 2 months trying to figure out your entire life. It was flipped upside down overnight, so you needed a moment to catch your breath. Joel understood, of course. You’d text him every now and again, just to let him know you were doing okay. 

You sit at your desk at work, glancing at your calendar pinned to your bulletin board. 

Of course you didn’t have plans for a random Wednesday night. Tomorrow you had Thristy Thursday with some coworkers. But tonight was going to be the night you lit up one of your last couple joints on your balcony and smoked until your eyelids got heavy. Maybe you would call your mom and ask her if she’d heard from your sister. 

Your mom had heard what happened two days after everything went down, and was totally on your side, which was nice. She couldn’t believe your sister had the audacity to do such a thing. You’d vent to her for hours, eventually crying and wishing she wasn’t across the country to give you a hug. After your parents divorced a couple years ago, your mother decided she needed to live her life far away from your dad, so she moved to Maine. Random, but you respected her for getting away and living her life on her terms. She told you that you should do the same. You laughed between tears, telling her maybe you would.

After your sister was confronted with the fact that you knew all about her and Tommy, she cried and begged for forgiveness. You decided to spare her your true feelings, opting to just tell her to stay out of your life for awhile. You’d ignored her calls and texts after that. It was your father who called you a couple days later to tell you that she had checked herself into rehab for abusing alcohol and pills. 

As sick as it was, your mind went straight to karma. It was bittersweet. You told your father to let her know you were thinking about her and hope she got better. Your dad said she was going to move to Dallas with him once she got out of treatment. It wasn’t far enough away from you, but it would do.

You stare back down at your phone, reading Joel’s text several more times.

Just you and Sarah? You type.

It was a dumb question to ask, but you had to be sure Tommy wasn’t just hanging around his house like he used to. You’re almost positive Joel would’ve told Tommy to stop coming around, but you can never be too safe.

He responded quickly. 

From: Joel Miller

Just us. She wanted to show you her new CD player too. 

You can’t say no, especially now that it’s not just Joel you’re neglecting. You had been around Sarah most of her life and she always loved having you around. You were almost like a big sister she never had. She always begged you to come to her soccer games, her chorus concerts, and birthday parties. You never missed one. 

She always gave you insight on the newest trends and she was quick with her humor, which always had you laughing until your stomach hurt. If you were going to go to the Miller household, it would be to hear all of Sarah’s life updates.

And maybe to see Joel. His presence would not be lost on you. 

You hover over your keyboard, overthinking your response. 

Okay, yeah. I can be over around 6? 

You glance back up at your computer screen, seeing that it was already 3. You’d be out of work in an hour, then you’d have to see Joel.

You hadn’t seen him since you left his house with your pile of clothes, sporting his old t-shirt and sweatpants, completely dazed and confused at the curveball that life threw you.

You did wear that shirt he gave you almost every night. 

Your phone dings. 

From: Joel Miller

Sounds good. I’ll let Sarah know, she will be excited.

You shake away all your doubt and take a couple deep breaths, getting back to some emails before you’d go home and get ready to face your past. 

–

“You came!”

Sarah opens the door to see you practically shaking in your new heeled boots. She reaches out and grabs you, giving you the tightest hug.

“Hey, kiddo,” You grin, returning the squeeze, “Your dad promised me lasagna and you, so of course I had to come.”

She giggles, pulling you out of the chilly air. The Miller house has this distinct warmth that always comforts the deepest parts of your soul. Even when you and Tommy were together, your favorite place to hangout was Joel’s back deck and living room. 

You haven’t ever felt so nervous to see Joel. You round the corner to the kitchen, only to see him slaving over the oven. He looks relaxed. His hair is a bit more shaggy than usual. He’s surprisingly not in any work gear, wearing a blue t-shirt and khakis, with no stains. He put on his best outfit, just for you. 

When your eyes lock, you just try your best to give him your best cheesy smile. You had no idea what to say to the man. Hey, I miss you a lot. I find myself comparing every dick I have had in the last two months to yours. 

That would land well.

“Hey there stranger,” You opt to say instead.

He drops the knife he’s using to butter some bread. He’s reaching out towards you, grappling at your waist and the bottle of red in your hand. 

“Hey, I’ve-… I mean we’ve missed ya,” He gives you a half hug, putting the wine down on the counter. You feel weird touching him like this. Especially in front of Sarah. He smells like you remember. Sweet strawberry shampoo and whatever laundry softener he puts on his clothes. His large hand pulls away from your waist and you instantly miss it. 

“I’ve missed y’all, too. Anything I can do to help?” You gesture towards the spread he has laid out. It’s mainly just fresh garlic diced up and some Italian bread cut up into slices. 

“Why don’t ya open that bottle? Wine glasses ar-“

“Above the dishwasher, I know.”

—

Dinner was intertwined with Sarah telling stories about her first weeks of school and you devouring your weight in lasagna. Joel just nodded along, piping in to say something sarcastic to Sarah or smile at your sauce stained lips. You sip on wine, progressively getting more and more relaxed due to the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

It was like old times. Except you didn’t have Tommy interjecting to shoot down your ideas or him and Joel getting into a small tiff about something that happened 10 years ago. It was nice. After dinner, when Joel was starting on dishes, Sarah brought you up to her room to show you some new stuff she bought. She played you a Britney Spears CD on her new stereo, telling you about how many discs it actually held. She even confided in you that she had a crush on a boy in her math class. 

“You better not tell your Dad. He will have a cow.”

You feel a presence behind you occupy the door. You turn quickly, seeing Joel leaning against the door frame. 

“Have a cow about what?” He grumbles, crossing his arms at you two. You smirk, shaking your head. 

“Nothing, Dad,” Sarah utters quickly. 

“Yeah, Dad, it’s none of your business.”

He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm. 

He only came up here to grab you for some alone adult talk, and here you are gossiping with his daughter and harboring secrets. Deep down, he loved it. He appreciated that Sarah felt safe enough to come to you and talk to you about things. You were always a great role model for her. 

“Okay, fine,” He raises his hands in defeat, “Sarah, you gotta get up for school tomorrow. Start gettin’ ready for bed.”

“Bu-”

“No buts. You’re not goin’ in late tomorrow. Shower and bed.”

She stomps her foot, annoyed with him and his demands. You just giggle, grabbing her arms and bringing her into a hug. 

“I promise I’ll be around more. You call me any time, okay? I love hearing from you.”

She crushes you with her little bony arms, “Don’t be a stranger.”

You pull away, gesturing Joel to scoot out of the door frame so you could head downstairs. He follows close behind, his foot fall in sync with yours. 

“You wanna stay for another glass? Stil half the bottle left.”

You bite your lip. You shouldn’t, but you want to talk to him without a child present. So you nod eagerly, heading straight to the bottle once you reach the downstairs. You pour yourself some into your stained glasses, giving him the last splash. 

“Wanna hang outside? May be more private.”

He wanted privacy because he wanted to pick your mind. He also wanted updates on your family. How everything went down with your sister. Your parent’s opinions on the situation. One thing about Joel was that he wanted to hear your buttery voice talk about anything and everything. 

You two walk out the sliding glass door, finding spots on the outdoor couch Joel had for most of Sarah’s life. It was falling apart and water damaged, but it was where you and him had spent long nights having conversations when Tommy was drunk and asleep on the couch inside. 

“You uh, talk to your sister?” He asks, settling into the couch, keeping an appropriate distance from you. 

You breath out loudly, “Yeah, she’s in rehab.”

“Holy shit, cause of what happened?”

You take a sip of wine before you answer, “No, she was on some heavy shit, I guess. Maybe that’s what gave her the audacity to fuck Tommy.”

“Yeah maybe. You talk to him at all?”

“He left me a drunken voicemail a couple weeks ago. Other than that, no.”

You had woken up in the dead of night to get water and saw you had a message on your home phone voicemail. You pressed the button, letting his wasted voice slur your name. He was begging to come back. Said he made a mistake. He would never do it again, yada yada. 

“He’s already bringin’ another girl around my parents. Some chick from that bar he’s always at with his buddies,” Joel confesses, “My ma is confused.”

Your stomach flips a bit. You were curious how Tommy was doing, but not out of desperation or anything. You just wanted to know if he would survive on his own. 

“I knew he’d be quick. How does your mom feel about it all?”

“Disappointed but she enables his shit.”

Joel takes a sip of his wine, licking his lips after he swallows. You watch him closely, trying to not make it obvious that you missed the way his tongue traced yours that night. 

“Yeah that’s fair. He’s her baby.”

He nods, letting the silence fill the air. He doesn’t want to ask about your dating life, but the question was festering in his mind. He couldn’t help himself. 

“Have you been seeing anyone?”

“Not really.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I’ve slept with other guys but no one to really ride home about. They weren’t-“

He cuts you off quickly, “Tommy?”

“No,” You contemplate for a moment, gripping the stem of your wine glass tighter. You know if you weren’t drinking, you would never let the next word slip your lips. But it does. 

“You.”

You weren’t planning on confessing that to anyone, especially Joel himself. But the tension was rising in your chest and he’s sitting here, under the moonlight, giving you those damn puppy eyes. 

He raises his eyebrows, not expecting you to say something so upfront and honest. The relief that floods him was satisfying, though. He hadn’t even thought about another woman since you. 

You mainly had random hookups to try to fill the void you felt due to not having someone around all the time. You weren’t ever fully into them, but you needed to feel something. That something was never itching that itch you had, though. The closeness you craved wasn’t strictly sexual.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, looking down at his socks, “I can’t uh… I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

It makes your heart grow 7 sizes to hear him say that. The guilt you anticipated feeling about sleeping with Joel never came. You instead missed him more than any other part of your 7 year relationship with his brother. 

“The feeling is mutual.”

The moment is shattered when you hear a pounding on the glass door. Sarah stands there in his pajamas, her toothbrush in her hand.

Joel signals her to open the door, which she does a bit too hard. The door shudders loudly as Sarah jumps over the threshold.

“Jesus kid,” Joel groans, setting his empty glass down on a table nearby, “What is it?”

“We should invite her to my soccer tournament this weekend!”

“Soccer tournament?”

Joel huffs, “She has a big tournament this weekend in Houston.”

“You should come!”

You shoot a look at Joel, “I mean, I am free. But is that okay with you? Are you guys staying somewhere?”

“Yeah, the Marriot downtown. Her whole team is stayin’ there. We have two beds in the room, so you could squeeze. Only if you want to.”

He was praying you’d say yes. 

“That’d be fun,” You drink the last drop of your wine, “Count me in.”

You want to think you’re doing it for Sarah, but truthfully, you were itching to get more time with Joel. You were almost positive you made plans with a guy from work this weekend, but you could care less about cancelling something if it meant you could get to stay in a fancy hotel with Joel and support Sarah from the sidelines. 

Sarah squeals in excitement, running outside barefoot to throw her arms around you. 

“I promise we will win!”

It sends you into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m sure you will, kiddo. Now get inside, your feet will get all gross without shoes on.”

Joel quips up, “Brush your teeth, then bed. ‘Ya hear me?”

She straightens up, saluting him like a solider dramatically, “Sir, yes, sir.”

You both watch her prance inside, giddy that you’d be around to watch her on the field. You can’t help but feel loved by the girl. She really made you feel important. 

Joel clears his throat, “You can say no to her, yanno?”

“No, I really can’t,” You scoot to the corner of the couch, pushing yourself off of it, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, I got a big day tomorrow,” Joel lies. He didn’t have a big day, he would literally be sitting in his truck thinking of you while his work crews do all the heavy lifting. He stands up to walk you out, wracking his brain if he should… hug you? Kiss you?

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight. I guess I’ll see you guys this weekend? Will I just meet you here Friday evening so we can head out?”

“Yeah, planning on leaving around 5:30,” Joel explains, getting the sliding glass door for you, “We can just come by and get you.”

“Yeah don’t want Tommy to drive by and see my car in your driveway, right?”

“I could care less what Tommy’s thinks.”

part 3 coming soon

[herrscherofinsanity]

Sticky Situations

Four times Jimin "successfully" hides her superhero persona and one time she actually fails.

Fluff

Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Spider!Jimin is finally back

____________________

Wardrobe malfunction.

Yu Jimin stood in her room, struggling to pull her superhero suit over her head as quietly as possible. She had just received an urgent call about a bank robbery in progress, and she needed to spring into action as Spiderwoman; but as she wrestled with the fabric, she heard the telltale sound of y/n's footsteps approaching.

Panicking, Jimin glanced around the room for a hiding spot, but there was nowhere to conceal the suit in time. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the suit and hurled it across the room, hoping to buy herself a few precious seconds.

Just as Jimin released the suit, y/n swung open the door, her eyes widening in surprise at the sudden crash. "What on earth was that?" she exclaimed, peering into the room.

Jimin's heart raced as she racked her brain for an excuse. "Uh, probably just a raccoon," she blurted out, mentally kicking herself for the absurdity of her response.

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "In your room?" she deadpanned, giving Jimin a pointed look.

Jimin shifted nervously, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Well, you know how it is in the city," she mumbled, hoping her roommate would drop the subject.

Thankfully, y/n seemed to take pity on her flustered roommate. "Anyway, I was actually looking for one of your hoodies," she said, changing the subject. "Mind if I borrow it?"

Relieved by the change in topic, Jimin nodded eagerly. "Of course not! Help yourself," she replied, gesturing toward her wardrobe.

As y/n rummaged through Jimin's clothes, Jimin couldn't help but steal glances at her roommate, feeling a familiar flutter of affection in her chest. Despite her clumsy attempt to conceal her secret identity, Jimin couldn't help but feel grateful for her roommate's understanding… and for the opportunity to spend a little more time with her.

____________________

2. I’m calling 911

Jimin trudged wearily back to the dorm, feeling utterly exhausted after a long night of crime-fighting as Spiderwoman. Her muscles ached, her clothes were torn, and she had a few scratches on her face and arms from her latest skirmish with a group of villains. She couldn't wait to collapse into bed and forget about the chaos of the night.

As she pushed open the door to her dorm room, Jimin let out a weary sigh, expecting to find an empty space where she could recuperate in peace. Luck definitely wasn’t on her side though. To her dismay, she spotted y/n lounging in the common area, looking up from her phone with a surprised expression.

"Jimin, what happened to you?" y/n exclaimed, jumping to her feet and rushing over to her disheveled roommate.

Jimin's heart skipped a beat at the sight of y/n's concerned expression, her blood pressure skyrocketing when her roommate cupped her face to get a better look at her injuries. "Oh, uh, it's nothing," she stammered, trying to play off her battered appearance. "Just got into a little scuffle with a raccoon, that's all." Another raccoon? What the hell is wrong with you, Yu Jimin?

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Seriously, Jimin? Another raccoon?" she asked incredulously.

Jimin chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of y/n's scrutiny. "Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted. "But this one was really aggressive. I just wanted to pet it, but it didn't seem to like the idea..."

y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes. "You and your raccoons," she muttered, reaching for her phone. "I'm calling 911. You need to get those scratches looked at."

Jimin's heart swelled with gratitude as she watched y/n fussing over her. Despite her ridiculous excuse, y/n was always there for her, ready to take care of her no matter what. She couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her roommate, grateful for her unwavering support and kindness.

As y/n dialed the number for emergency services, Jimin couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe her excuse was a little far-fetched, but it was worth it to see the concern in y/n's eyes and feel her warm touch as she checked Jimin's injuries.

____________________

3. Sticky situation

Jimin and y/n were enjoying a quiet movie night together in their cozy dorm room. Jimin had suggested they watch a movie, and y/n readily agreed, eager for some quality time together.

As they settled in for their movie date, Jimin's heart fluttered with excitement at the prospect of spending quality time with y/n. She had been looking forward to this all week, relishing the chance to snuggle up with her girlfriend and enjoy a relaxing evening together. Jimin had even prepared a selection of snacks to share, eager to make the night extra special.

However, as the movie started playing and Jimin reached for the bowl of popcorn, she felt an odd sensation. The popcorn seemed to stick to her fingers, defying gravity as if held in place by an invisible force. Confused, Jimin tried to shake it off nonchalantly, hoping y/n wouldn't notice.

But the strange phenomenon persisted. Every object Jimin touched seemed to adhere to her hands, making it increasingly difficult for her to maintain her composure. She discreetly glanced at y/n, who was engrossed in the movie, completely unaware of Jimin's predicament.

Jimin's mind raced with questions. Was this some new manifestation of her powers? Had she accidentally activated her sticky web ability without realizing it? She frantically tried to release her grip on the popcorn bowl, but it stubbornly clung to her hand, defying her efforts.

Panic started to rise within Jimin as she struggled to conceal her growing distress. She couldn't afford to reveal her secret identity to y/n, not when their relationship was still so new. Desperate for a solution, Jimin racked her brain for a plausible explanation to offer when y/n inevitably noticed.

For now, she had to maintain the facade of normalcy, pretending everything was fine even as her world seemed to stick to her fingertips.

As the movie progressed, Jimin's attempts to discreetly deal with her sticky hands became increasingly comical. When y/n reached out to grab the remote, Jimin's hand stubbornly clung to it, resulting in a playful tug-of-war between the two.

"Hey, let go!" y/n laughed, trying to pry the remote from Jimin's grasp.

"I-I'm trying!" Jimin protested, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she struggled to release her grip.

After a brief struggle, Jimin finally managed to relinquish her hold on the remote, sending it flying into y/n's waiting hand. But as they resumed watching the movie, y/n couldn't help but notice the lingering stickiness on Jimin's fingers.

"Okay, what's up with your hands?" the younger girl asked, shooting Jimin a curious glance.

Jimin's mind raced as she scrambled for a plausible explanation. "Uh, I was, um, working with superglue earlier," she stammered, hoping her girlfriend would buy her excuse.

"Superglue?" y/n raised an eyebrow. "Why were you using superglue?"

Jimin's face flushed bright red as she searched for an answer. "I, uh, I was building a raccoon trap," she confessed sheepishly, hoping to deflect further questioning.

y/n shook her head in bemusement. "Only you, Jimin," she chuckled, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Much to Jimin's delight and dismay, y/n reached out to hold hands, seemingly forgetting about Jimin's sticky predicament. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as their fingers intertwined, momentarily forgetting her sticky dilemma in the warmth of y/n's touch.

They stayed like that for a while, holding hands, with y/n's head resting comfortably on Jimin's shoulder. Jimin couldn't help but feel a rush of contentment wash over her as she savored the simple pleasure of being close to y/n.

In a tender moment, Jimin placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, eliciting a soft smile from the other girl as she returned the gesture by pressing a kiss to Jimin's cheek. The affectionate exchange only deepened the bond between them, reaffirming the love they shared.

However, their intimate moment was interrupted when y/n whispered that she needed to use the bathroom and moved to get up.

y/n's attempt to get up was met with unexpected resistance as Jimin's hand remained firmly stuck to hers. With a bewildered expression, y/n turned to Jimin, her eyes wide with confusion. "Jimin, why won't you let go?" she asked, trying to understand the strange situation.

Feeling her heart race, Jimin blurted out the truth without hesitation. "Because I hate spending even a single second away from you," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her candid admission.

y/n's heart melted at Jimin's heartfelt words, and she leaned in to press a tender kiss against Jimin's lips. "You're such a dork," she murmured affectionately, her voice filled with fondness as she whispered against Jimin's lips. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Determined to break free, y/n made another attempt to get up, only to find herself landing next to Jimin once again as her hand remained glued to her girlfriend's. "Jimin, let me go!" she exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her tone.

____________________

4. Romeo and Juliet?

Jimin carefully approached the window of their dorm room, hoping to slip inside unnoticed. She had just returned from a late-night patrol as Spiderwoman and didn't want to wake y/n. As she reached for the latch, she froze when she heard the sound of water running in the kitchen.

She peeked cautiously through the window and saw y/n filling a glass at the sink. Jimin's heart sank as she realized her attempt to sneak in undetected had been thwarted. She hesitated, debating whether to continue with her plan or come up with a quick excuse if y/n spotted her.

As y/n turned around, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of Jimin halfway through the window.

"Jimin? What the hell are you doing?" y/n's voice carried a mix of amusement and disbelief as she set the glass down on the counter.

Jimin's cheeks flushed crimson as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation. "Um… well, you see… a raccoon… ate my keys?" she stammered, her voice betraying her nervousness.

y/n raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "A raccoon? Really, Jimin?"

Jimin chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "Okay, maybe not a raccoon. I, uh, I was actually trying to recreate Romeo and Juliet with you."

y/n burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "You're such a dork, Jimin," she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Despite the embarrassment, Jimin couldn't help but smile at y/n's reaction. "Yeah, I guess I am," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "But hey, at least I'm your dork, right?"

y/n's expression softened, her heart swelling with fondness for her girlfriend. "Yeah, you are," she agreed, moving closer to help Jimin through the window. As they stood face to face, Jimin leaned in, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Thanks, babe," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

y/n silenced Jimin's words with a gentle kiss, her lips meeting Jimin's in a sweet and tender moment of affection. As they pulled away, a warm glow settled in Jimin's chest, grateful for the love and understanding of her girlfriend.

____________________

5. Don’t break up with me!

Jimin carefully slipped into the dorm room, her heart pounding against her chest. She had hoped to sneak in unnoticed, but luck wasn't on her side. Just as she closed the window behind her, she heard the creak of the door opening. Panic surged through her as she turned to see y/n stepping into the room, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Babe?" y/n's voice was laced with confusion and concern. "What are you doing in that suit?"

Jimin's mind raced, searching for an excuse, but her thoughts were jumbled, and her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. "Um, well, you see... I was just..." she stuttered, her voice trailing off as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation.

y/n's gaze intensified, her brows furrowing with worry. "Jimin, what's going on? Why are you dressed like that?"

“Please don’t break up with me!” Jimin blurted out in a panic.

“What!?”

Jimin took a step back, her heart sinking as she realized there was no way to hide the truth any longer. "I-I mean, I can explain," she started, her voice trembling slightly. "But first, I need you to promise me that you won't freak out."

y/n's expression softened, her concern deepening. "Jimin, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Jimin felt a surge of gratitude wash over her at y/n's words, but she knew that what she was about to reveal would change everything. Taking a deep breath, she made a split-second decision to trust her girlfriend with the truth.

"I'm Spiderwoman," she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been hiding it from you, but I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

y/n's eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "Spiderwoman?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "But... how? Why?"

Jimin's shoulders slumped as she recounted the events that had led to her becoming the masked hero. She spoke of her desire to make a difference, to help those in need, and the responsibility she felt to use her powers for good.

"I know it's a lot to take in," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I needed you to know the truth. I couldn't keep lying to you."

y/n's gaze softened, her eyes brimming with understanding. "Jimin, I may not understand everything right now, but one thing's for sure, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you're going through, I'll be by your side."

Tears welled up in Jimin's eyes as she stepped forward, enveloping the girl she loved in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here for me."

As they held each other, Jimin felt a sense of relief wash over her. She had feared that revealing her secret would drive a wedge between them, but instead, it had brought them closer together.

“…You really won’t break up with me, right?”

“Oh my- Jimin!” the younger girl screeched.

“I’m sorry!”

“If I’m being completely honest with you, I like this Spiderwoman thing way better than when I thought you were obsessed with raccoons” y/n said, a pensive look on her face.

Jimin couldn't help but roll her eyes at y/n's comment. "Seriously?" she groaned, playfully nudging her girlfriend.

But before she could protest further, y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jimin's lips. The warmth of their embrace melted away any lingering tension, and Jimin found herself smiling against y/n's lips.

y/n chuckled, pulling back slightly to meet Jimin's gaze. "Just so you know," she started, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve always thought Spiderwoman was pretty hot."

Jimin grinned, her heart swelling with love for the girl in front of her. "Lucky me," she replied, leaning in to capture y/n's lips in another sweet kiss.

____________________

A/N: Hi, hello! Now, this isn't the story I've been working on, I just haven't finished it, but I didn't want to make you guys wait that much. Sooo I quickly wrote Sticky Situations as a gift. I'll finish the other story and upload it during the week. I also have a Chaewon request to write...

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one. Thank you for reading! If you want to request something feel free to do it, I'll get to it whenever I have free time.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

✮⋆˙ another day of sun; leo valdez x reader blurb

content: leo valdez x reader blurb warning: angst but then fluff but then ig angst again??? this one a rollercoaster fo sho author's note: psssst @ivyy-covered-walls come cry over this one. also...I LOVE IT MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF SO SO GOOD (if yall dont agree, say nothing bc i will cut a bitch frfr) (jkjk i don't promote violence...except when i do)

ba-ba-da-ba, da-ba-da-ba ba-ba-da-ba, da-ba-da-ba

leo knew you were gonna make it big. you were just that kinda girl, one that drew people in and you were just so so full of love that you wanted to spread to others. leo was grateful every time you choose to spread that love over him...but he knew he was running on borrowed time. every time you guys went to the movies or saw a band preforming at a farmers market, he could feel the itch in you to join them. to make it far, to see your name in lights, and to have people waiting hours to catch just a glimpse of you. he knew you were gonna leave - most importantly, leave him behind.

i think about that day i left him at a greyhound station west of santa fé we were seventeen, but he was sweet and it was true still i did what i had to do 'cause i just knew

you never ever wanted to hurt leo, really, you didn't. if you could take him with you, stuffed inside your suitcase, you would in a heartbeat. he was the only boy you'd ever loved and you were certain you'd ever love again. but, when you received the offer to internship in los angeles under some big acting firm...it was kind of hard to say no. and it didn't help that leo was encouraging you to go, a heartbroken but motivating smile on his lips. you clung to him every remaining moment, wanting to cherish your now limited time. leo didn't mind, pressing his lips to any corner of skin he could reach.

summer sunday nights we'd sink into our seats right as they dimmed out all the lights a technicolor world made out of music and machine it called me to be on that screen and live inside each scene

and then the dreaded day came. leo walked you to the train station, carrying your suitcase and backpack like a gentleman. what a boy to leave behind, you thought, your heart clenching and mind urging you to stay, just stay. but he was already pulling you into a goodbye hug, clutching you so firmly to his chest that you worried you'd merge into one person. and then you pressed your lips to leo's, salty tears and muttered apologies being the only separators from time to time. then the train came rushing by, sweeping both of your hair into to crazy directions and slightly pulling the pair towards the train with it's sweeping breeze. leo whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promises to watch every movie and to love you until his heart stops beating. you pressed kisses to his clothed shoulder at every promise, every promise you'd break by stepping onto the train. you waited until the very last moment, the conductor glaring at you as he shouted the very last calls for los angeles. you squeezed leo's hand so hard, you thought you'd crush his bones to dust, shooting up and pressing a kiss so firm and love filled to his cheek. and then you were sweeping away into the train, looking over your shoulder and waving out the window of your seat every moment you could.

and when the train started to move, leo copied, racing to keep up with the train. running to keep you in view for even just a few more moments. you were laughing but leo couldn't hear it anymore through the glass - he worried he'd never hear it again. he ran until the end of the platform, nearly slamming into it as the train continued to rush past, continued to steal his girl away from him. and he stayed there, long after the train was nothing more than a spec in the distance. he would've stayed there forever, waiting for you to come back, but the ticket seller told him to get lost so he could close up for the night.

without a nickel to my name hopped a bus, here i came could be brave or just insane we'll have to see

and years later, leo'd drag piper and jason with him to the movie theaters. he'd been yapping about this movie for months, piper growing suspicious that he had alter motives. but he'd always just smile in a sort of nostalgic way and simple say he liked the actress. and she was beautiful and the kind of girl that drew people in, which was hard to find in people their age! following a deep dive, piper discovered they'd come the same hometown, which she figured to be his true reason. who wouldn't want to see someone like you succeed? but, as they took their seats and piper leaned over to ask for the popcorn, she couldn't help but notice the glistening of tears in his eyes as he stared up at the girl, finally on the big screen. just like she always dreamed. just like he always dreamed for her.

'cause maybe in that sleepy town he'll sit one day, the lights are down he'll see my face and think of how he used to know me

then, as the movie came to end and leo stood up and gave a stand ovation to an empty theater, his clapping came a halt as the credits began to roll. his heart thudded and he caught himself on the seats in front of them, as his knees buckled and gave out on him. there, bold and proudly it read;

to my dear heart, my first supporter and first and final love. i do it all for and because of you. come find me, for i am waiting for you, just like we promised all those years ago waiting for that train. take me home, leo valdez.

[artydonsgf]

Could you do headcanons of what clothes each would let you borrow/borrow from you?

hi anon!! thank you so much for your request. i won’t even lie, this one is short as fuck because i wasn’t really sure what direction to go with it… enjoy regardless<3

Art Donaldson

- steals stuff that you don’t notice

- your belt this time, socks another time

- as things progress in the relationship, so does his habit of wearing your clothes

- yall share shirts, hoodies, jackets, he would wear your shoes if he could

- he just likes how comforting it is wearing your clothes

- if he can’t wear something of yours, he’ll buy it so you guys can match

- you steal his clothes just as much, but you really like his tennis hoodies that say donaldson on the back

- prepping for when you’re mrs art donaldson🤭

- bonus for my black girls: art donaldson wears your bright pink bonnet to bed because “my curls need the help”

Tashi Duncan

- she doesn’t borrow your clothes that much actually

- she’ll wear your shirt if she can’t find hers but she doesn’t seek out your stuff much

- you seek out hers and she loves it though

- nothing is off limits in her eyes, you could wear literally anything of hers

- her not stealing your clothes isn’t about not feeling comfortable, it just doesn’t really occur to her to do so

- buys clothes and thinks to herself that you’ll probably borrow it

- a section of her closet is all your favorite things of hers so you don’t need to dig through it looking for it

Patrick Zweig

- nothing is off limits to this man

- honestly, you could walk out of the house in an outfit that solely belongs to patrick

- he’s the exact same way, he’d wear your underwear if he could

- buys new clothes with you in mind

- “hm i wonder if she’d wear this too”

- spoiler you would and you will

- thinks of it as a couples bonding experience

- cause really, how mad can you be at him when you’re wearing his boxers?

sorry this is kinda shitty, i appreciate the request either way<3

[morganski-19]

The One with the Stolen Clothes

 Eddie walks into Steve and Robin’s apartment to bother them, because he’s bored, and Robin dramatically gasps. Then throws a ball of paper at Steve when he walks out of his bedroom.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, thoroughly confused.

Robin gestures over to Eddie with wide eyes. Steve raises an eyebrow, still confused. Eddie just looked between the two of them, trying to decipher what they are silently communicating. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Eddie, where did you get that shirt?”

Eddie glances down at his shirt, having just pulled it out of the laundry basket before walking over here. “The laundry basket on the couch. Why?”

“No, like what place?”

He shrugs. “Thrift store probably, I don’t listen to this bad, but the logo’s cool.”

Robin dramatically stands up. “I knew it. That’s my shirt.”

Eddie makes a confused face. “How would your shirt end up in my apartment?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “I think I know. Remember when you stayed over here a few nights ago, and you borrowed some of my clothes. You said that you would wash them and then return them, but never did. I’m pretty sure that was the shirt you borrowed.”

“Huh, guess so. Sorry Buck, I’ll have to wash it again before giving it back to you.”

“Yeah fine, whatever,” Robin groans.

Steve snaps, like he just made a big realization. “That’s why you threw the paper at me.”

“It always come back to you stealing shit out of my closet.”

“Not my fault you like to wear baggy shirts.”

“You still wear it even if it’s not baggy,” Robin raises her voice. “Half my closet is stuff that you stretched out.”

Steve huffs. “That is so not true. And you steal my shit all the time, it’s like our thing.”

“Not when you lend someone else my clothes,” she points to Eddie, bringing him back into this conversation. “And I don’t care if it’s not washed, I’d like it back.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll go change then.”

He leaves the apartment and returns to his own. Nancy giving him an odd look when he walks through the door.

“Is that you’re shirt?” Nancy asks, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop.

“Apparently not. It’s Robin’s.” Eddie goes to his room to change, double checking that this shirt is actually his.

“How’d you end up with Robin’s shirt?” Nancy asks, turning her head to the hall when a loud scream is heard from the other apartment.

Eddie matches her expression, thinking it’s probably not a good idea to go over there again. “Steve accidentally lent it to me. Apparently, he steals her clothes a lot.”

Nancy hums. “Yeah, it’s been a problem for years. But she does it to. When I roomed with her in college, she would steal my sweatshirts all the time.”

“I’m still surprised you guys didn’t date back then. You practically were from the sound of it.” There’s another scream from the across the hall. “Should we intervene?”

“Nah, they’ll be fine. We probably would have dated in college if I knew I was bi back then. But I didn’t, so we sort of missed it.”

Eddie faces Nancy. “And now?”

“Now,” Nancy says, still facing the door. “Whatever we might have had back then is gone. Robin and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be.”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you think Robin doesn’t like you back.”

“Because I believe it. What we have,” Nancy takes a deep breath. “I’d rather be her friend forever than risk losing her to some shitty breakup. I almost lost Steve when we broke up in college, and then Jonthan when we broke up two years ago. I got lucky twice, I’m not risking being lucky again.”

Eddie sits down next to Nancy at the table. “But are you really going to stop yourself from trying. Maybe this time, you won’t have to be lucky. Everything could work out.”

“Are you still holding yourself back after your dick head of an ex-boyfriend broke up on you?” Nancy asks already knowing the answer.

“Got me there. When did life get so complicated?”

Nancy huffs. “Life was so much easier when we were in high school. The biggest thing we had to worry about were classes and shitty after school jobs. Not this.”

“Remember that hiding spot we found in the library?”

“Yeah,” Nancy smiles. “Right behind the non-fiction isle by the teachers lounge. Everything felt better there.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back in time, just for life to feel simpler again? Or to change something in hopes it would make your future better.”

“Sometimes. I think if I did, the one thing I would change is us falling out of touch. Everything else, I think was just fine enough.”

Eddie plays with his rings. “I’m sorry that I stopped reaching out when you went off to school. Just felt like you didn’t need me anymore, with all your new college friends and classes and shit. You didn’t need me dragging you back to that town. You were so much better than them.”

“I’m sorry I let you. Wasn’t just you’re doing. I wanted to separate as much from home as possible, you just happened to be in the crossfire.”

Robin bursts through the apartment door, finding Eddie with a glare. “My shirt,” she demands.

“Right, here,” he tosses her the shirt and she leaves. “We really need to start locking that door.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah. Why’d Steve lend you the shirt anyway?”

“Not the reason you think. We were too high and tired to stand up fully, so he just let me stay over.”

“Damn, thought you two were done being stupid.”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen until you and Robin stop being stupid.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

[vcendent]

Clothes stealing: Batfam edition

Bruce: is the designated clothes donor of the batfam, he has given up at keeping ownership of his clothes at this point and genuinely no longer notices when something of his goes missing. Gotham thinks he's very fashion conscious because he never publically wears the same thing twice, but that's just because his clothes get stolen and passed between his kids like a game of hot potato. Sometimes he gets things back but 98% of the time they're lost to the void.

Dick: treats Bruce's closet like a second wardrobe, does not own a single suit of his own because he always borrows one of Bruce's for galas and events. If anything goes missing from Bruce's closet, it ends up in Dick's dirty laundry or at his Blüdhaven apartment a week later, and anything anyone steals from him in all likelihood originally belonged to Bruce first.

Jason: as Robin, about half the shirts he owned either came from Bruce or were looted from Dick's old room. Nowadays he doesn't have much opportunity to clothes steal due to his BulkTM making him the largest member of the family, however he still frequently wears one of Bruce's old depression hoodies because it's the one thing from his Robin days that still fits.

Tim: by far the WORST clothes stealer of them all and will steal from any one of his friends or family members who wears a larger size than him indiscriminately. If he can fit in it, it's free real estate and he almost never wears any of his own shirts or hoodies anymore (king of the big shirts little pants look) unless he specifically needs to dress nice. Of the batkids, Tim is the most likely to maintain permanent ownership of the clothes he steals.

Steph: owns a few things she got from Tim from when they were dating (whose they were originally is no longer known), but otherwise mostly sticks to swapping clothes with Cass, Babs, or Kate unless it's to play psychological warfare against Jason by periodically stealing all his Red Hood jackets until he gets fed up with looking for them and buys another replacement, after which she sneaks them back into his apartment like nothing happened and watches him lose his mind over it each time. He has no clue she's the one doing this and it's why he has so damn many.

Cass: the only one of the batfam who actually asks permission before borrowing something and makes a point to return it when she's done. She mostly borrows Bruce's shirts and hoodies for sleepwear or lazy days and from Steph whenever she needs to look nice for an event, but otherwise wears her own clothes most of the time.

Damian: the only article of clothing he has stolen was Dick's Gotham U sweatshirt and he will take it to his grave.

Duke: accidentally steals his family's clothes when items are loaned to him and he forgets to give them back or when something new gets mixed into his wardrobe after Alfred's done the washing. He used to feel bad about not giving clothes back until he noticed the clothes stealing tradition amongst his siblings and no longer pays it any mind when it happens.

Kate: borrows her clothes out to the girls more often than she borrows from others, but occasionally has a shirt or hoodie of Bruce's accidentally mixed in with her stuff after manor visits or mission stakeouts that usually finds its way back to Bruce via Cass.

Barbara: will swap clothes with Steph, Cass, and Kate, but otherwise only steals clothes from Dick, especially his sweatpants. He doesn't know it, but he's never getting his Gotham U sweats back.

[seonghwaddict]

comfortable? — jung wooyoung PART ONE OF LILO'S 600 FOLLOWER EVENT

requested by @jaehunnyy. “aaaaaaa lilo darling, congrats on your milestone!! i am so proud of you, and i would like to request some floofy floof with Wooyoung, with the prompts [ see below ]. take your time and know that im so proud of you 🤍” lilo’s notes. chippy, thank you so much~!! i hope i made your wooyo delusions come true 🫶

prompts. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” ; wearing each other’s clothes for the first time. pairing. jung wooyoung x fem!reader

warnings. none. wc. 714

dating wooyoung has been a dream so far. despite how playful he was and how much he loved to tease you, he was incredibly caring in ways that he showed through lingering touches and glittering eyes.

you’d known each other for years but only began dating a few months earlier after a confession that left you giggling every time you thought about it. “would you punch me if i confessed my love for you and asked you out?” “yeah, probably.” “cool… so, i really like you, let’s go on a date?” you did indeed punch after that, but he wasn’t one to complain about such things.

earlier today you showed up at his house after he told you to come over, which led to a spontaneous baking competition. a few hours later, the kitchen was covered in flour and other baking ingredients but the two of you finally put together pastries that (somewhat) resembled cupcakes. his batch looked pretty good, four vanilla cupcakes, each with a piped red icing heart on top. yours looked passable, four chocolate cupcakes topped with a swirl of white icing and sprinkles.

wooyoung took a long moment to stare at your creation before doubling over and laughing like his life depended on it. “what the hell is that?”

“they’re cupcakes and probably taste better than yours.” you pouted at him and took one of them from the plate. you eyed it for a moment before taking a small bite. you hummed appreciatively, it was pretty moist. so you took another bite bigger than the last. it was then that you noticed the cupcake was very much underbaked, the raw batter spilling out and dropping against your shirt. this only made wooyoung laugh even more as he observed you, tears nearly welling up in his eyes.

“it’s not even baked properly!”

you hastily grabbed some napkins and began wiping at the shirt. while the batter came off, it left behind a rather large brown stain on it that had you frowning. as soon as your boyfriend saw his expression, his laughter died down to amused giggles as he patted your cheek gently.

“don’t worry, jagi, you can borrow one of my hoodies.”

“are you sure?”

he nodded, leading you up to his bedroom. a few minutes later you walked out to meet him back in the living room, this time wearing one of his black hoodies over your leggings. it was too large for him and a bit larger for you, reaching the middle of your thighs if you didn’t move your arms.

the mischievous glint you usually saw in his eyes faded completely as he looked at you so lovingly when you walked in and flopped down on top of him on the couch. his fingers threaded themselves through your hair as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“comfortable?” he muttered against the soft skin of your cheek, making you giggle since it tickled a bit.

“very much so,” you nodded enthusiastically and cuddled into him further, “i might have to start stealing your hoodies.”

he hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist, turning you over so you were both laying on your sides, face to face and cramped together to fit on the couch. a few minutes of peaceful silence washed over you as you enjoyed each other’s presence. it was a rare occasion for him to be silent for this long and you looked up at him with some curiosity.

“what are you thinking about, woo?”

“you…,” you haven’t seen him looking so unsure since your first date when he spilled coffee all over your white rug. you slipped your hand into his and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night would you? i just really don’t want this day to end.”

your heart fluttered at his question and before you knew it you were smiling like an idiot and nodding. “i would want nothing more than that.”

he laughed giddily and pulled you closer. “have i told you how much i love you today?”

“yes but i wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“i love you.” he said again and again and again between tender pecks against your lips, cheek, jawline, anywhere he could reach. “i love you.”

[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal

[ perm taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

[hard-core-super-star]

Hi rubix, love your writing btw!! so would I be able to request a wandanat x reader fic where it’s readers birthday and they don’t usually have time or people to celebrate with so Wanda and Nat decide to change that for this year and whisk her away to somewhere like Paris to celebrate and have a great time with some smut at the end 🫣

It’s my birthday in a few days and I’m in dire need of this 🤧

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

warnings: smut -> minors, you know the drill, bye [threesome; smut so soft it borders on spicy fluff; like...one inch of plot; grinding; fingering [R receiving]; the daddy and mommy kink is implied but not explicit lmao; wanda's low-key a brat because...yeah :) ; clothed sex AGAIN because i think it's neat, okay?; cheesy ending...again]

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: hi, lovely anon, thank you for the kind words! i hope i'm not too late with this but either way, i hope you had a fantastic birthday! also, you get the honor of having requested my first ever wandanat fic so that's cool. this was my first time properly sitting down and writing for them so let me know what you think! i really hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“Guess what.”

You look up from the book in your hands to find two pairs of expectant eyes on you. You’ve seen your girlfriends wear many faces since you met them and yet it never fails to surprise you when you catch a glimpse of the genuine joy they wear around you.

The one that makes your heart skip several beats and earns them both teasing comments from the rest of the team.

“What?” You ask as your eyes flicker back and forth between them and the proud grins on their faces.

Wanda playfully rolls her eyes at you. “That’s not how the game works, detka.”

“Come on, go easy on her,” Natasha comes to your aid for once, a subtle hint that even she must be excited about whatever news they’re hiding.

“Yeah, what Nat said.”

You and the redhead share a look that draws a soft chuckle out of your girlfriend. ���Remind me how I’m the one who spoils y/n again?”

“Can you stop stalling and tell me what you’re hiding already?” 

Your question earns both a glare and a laugh before you’re finally given the answer you’ve been searching for. Your girlfriends may love you more than anything else in the world but that will never stop them from teasing you like their life depends on it.

“So impatient…yes, fine, we convinced Tony to let us borrow one of his stupidly fast jets for tomorrow.”

Two pairs of green eyes watch your reaction expectantly only to find your face twisting into confusion. “Why?”

There’s a beat of silence where they both stare at each other, silently trying to figure out how to proceed. Clearly, they weren’t expecting you to question the exciting news they had brought to you.

It happens in a flash.

One second you’re sitting alone in bed and the next, your girlfriends are on either side of you, contradicting touches landing on your arms. It’s strange how easy it is to tell them apart. How cautious Natasha’s fingers still are when they trace random patterns onto your skin compared to Wanda’s gentle pressure as trails down to grab onto your hand, unmistakable tendrils of red magic moving to put your forgotten book back onto the shelf.

Natatsha’s the first to break the silence, all her earlier playfulness gone and replaced by subtle concern. “y/n, it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“So?” You shrug. “It’s just another day.”

Wanda tightens her grip on your hand and successfully steals back your attention. “Nonsense, malyshka. You deserve to be celebrated.”

“Guys, it’s not a big deal,” you assure them. “I really don’t need anything. Plus, I have too many things to do.”

“Not anymore.” A sweet kiss is placed on your lips before you can voice your complaints. “We’re stealing you away tomorrow.”   

“But what about-”

“Already talked to Steve.”

“And-”

“Kate will understand.”

“How-”

“Stop looking for excuses, detka.” Natasha rolls her eyes as she pulls you closer to her. “You’re coming with us.”

You want to argue, you truly do, but then Wanda’s gluing herself to your side, eager hands slipping under your shirt, and you quickly come to the conclusion that spending all day with them is the best way to spend any day. 

Including a birthday.

Especially since you’re more than used to treating it like every other day of the year. It’s not that you don’t like celebrating it, you’re just always too busy to make real plans and no one’s ever thought to surprise you before.

But of course, your girlfriends aren’t like anyone else.

Which is how they manage to get you onto one of Tony’s jets, reminding you of the existence of time zones and how you have to leave right now if you want to make it to your surprise destination on time. You don’t really mind either way but you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen them this excited about something in a while so you go along with them anyway.

The jet ride seems never-ending despite how fast the aircraft is supposed to be. It doesn’t help that you’ve been having trouble sleeping peacefully the past few nights and Wanda’s running a hand through your hair in the way that makes you melt.

“You’re allowed to go to sleep, you know?” Natasha whispers with a teasing smirk. “We still have a long while to go.”

“Whose idea was this again?” You grumble as you drop your head down onto the redhead’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be a brat, love. You’ll thank us when we get there.”

You bite back the rest of your complaints and sink into the sweet arms of a dreamless sleep. You miss the way your girlfriends watch over you the entire time as well as the long list of things they each want to see and the various ridiculous ways in which they propose to get everything done.

They ultimately agree to let you choose once you’re awake again…something that backfires when the jet finally lands and you’re still far off in dreamland. They go back and forth on whether they should wake you or not, especially since it’s morning where you've landed and the jetlag will definitely destroy you.

You look far too cute to rouse though so Natasha gathers you up into her arms with ease and carries you in her strong embrace the rest of the way.

When you finally do wake up, a few hours have passed and you're safe inside the lavish hotel room Wanda reserved using one of Tony’s endless credit cards. The change in scenery startles your drowsy mind before you feel familiar arms pulling you close.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Wanda says softly as she easily pulls you onto her lap.

“Hi,” you mumble, tucking your head into the crook of her neck.

“Hi, darling. How's the birthday girl feeling? Still sleepy?”

“A little.” You let out a soft sigh as your girlfriend’s hands travel inside your loose shirt, slender fingers tracing random shapes onto your warm skin. “I’m sorry I ruined the trip.”

She scoffs and the sound instantly reminds you of Natasha which pulls a small smile onto your face. “You didn't ruin anything, detka. It's your birthday.”

You don't say anything in response and your girlfriend is quick to pull your thoughts away from their current trajectory. She keeps exploring your waist with one hand while the other one comes up to playfully tug on your hair.

“How about you stop hiding and look at your surprise, hm?”

It’s unclear whether it’s her words or her grip on your hair that makes you obey but neither of you mind. You reluctantly lift your face from its hiding place and let the green-eyed woman guide your gaze toward the large window of the room.

You gasp the second you realize where you are. “You guys brought me to Paris!”

Your excitement manages to break through your exhaustion which earns you a laugh from your loving witch. “Only the best for our girl.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little.”

You turn your head at the sound of Natasha’s voice, eager hands reaching out for her instantly. Your silent request is instantly fulfilled and the redhead easily slips into bed next to Wanda.

“I can't believe you would do this for me.”

“Believe it, malyshka.” She leans forward and easily captures your lips with her own.

Wanda huffs as she’s left out of the moment, her hands wandering under your shirt once again. You're too lost in the kiss to notice where her fingers are going until they brush against your nipples.

The sensation makes you jump which makes you grind against the witch’s thigh in a way that leaves you gasping for air. 

“That’s cheating,” Natasha warns after she pulls away from you. 

“What happened to spoiling the birthday girl?”

This time, you're the one who gets left out of the moment as they fight for the control that always rests in the Russian’s hands. They get caught up in their knowing stares and bruising kisses, leaving you aching and panting for their attention.

It’s a game they love playing with you but you’re far too desperate already to last much longer without their hands on you. 

Thankfully, Wanda decides to take pity on you. She gives your hardened nipples a soft tug, smirking against Natasha’s lips when she feels your hips buck once more. “I think someone’s feeling a little needy.”

The redhead turns to look at you, a perfectly raised eyebrow painting her face with the stern humor you've come to know so well. “Is that right, kotenok? Are you feeling needy?” 

You nod, all the heat in your body rushing down from your face to between your thighs. “Please don’t tease.”

“Aw, look at that, Nat. You're not going to deny her when she looks like that, are you?” You're not sure if Wanda’s actually being genuine or not but you don't really care as long as she’ll help you get what you want.

“Who’s the brat now?” She chuckles before reaching out for you, pulling you onto her lap, and leaving behind a pouty Wanda. “Come here, let me give you what you want.”

The Russian is true to her words and wastes no time in sliding a hand past the waistband of both your pants and your underwear. Your complaints about the lack of sink-on-skin contact between you are forgotten as Wanda situates herself behind you, plump lips trailing feather-light kisses up your neck. 

A gasp tumbles out of your lips once Natasha’s fingers finally find your drenched cunt. She moves slowly, almost too slowly, but you already know she’ll be quick to remind you to be patient if you dare whine.  

“You don’t have to be so cautious, detka,” Wanda whispers against your flushed skin. “It’s your birthday, remember?”

“Don’t listen to her, it’s always so much better for you when you’re a good girl.” She easily slips two fingers into your waiting hole, barely holding back a laugh as your pussy swallows her digits.   

Your hands grip her shoulders for stability while they both work in tandem to make you lose the last bits of control you still have over yourself. 

The witch’s hands find their way under your shirt yet again except this time she’s gripping your hips and helping you move in time with the redhead’s movements. It’s the slowest, most agonizing, of dances and yet the pleasure has you arching your back in seconds.

“Look at you,” Natasha coos, taking a mental picture of how delicious you look writhing in Wanda’s arms. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, malyshka.”

Your walls clench the second you hear the affectionate petname and the Russian can’t resist the urge to lean forward and attach herself to your neck. Her thrusts are still slow and steady but then finally, her thumb begins to circle your puffy clit.

Your head falls back against Wanda’s shoulder and she laughs as you practically go limp from the pleasure. “You’re gonna break her, ‘Tasha.”

“She likes it.” She punctuates her point by curling her fingers just right and pulling out a string of moans from deep within you. “Don’t you, darling?”

“Mhmm, please don’t stop.”

They share a look you don’t see but you do feel the evidence of yet another standoff. It’s like Wanda just can’t stop herself from pressing all of Natasha’s buttons when they’re like this. Which means it’s your job as their devoted girlfriend to let them turn your pleasure into a competition.

And they do just that.

Wanda’s grip on your hips tightens until her nails are digging into your skin and she’s practically forcing you to ride Natasha’s fingers. Natasha, for her part, increases the speed of her thrusts, launching you closer and closer toward your orgasm. She’s still drawing it out of you, though,  still balancing speed with soft kisses and murmured praises.

It’s a strange combination but it works perfectly. Just like your relationship with them. It’s something that transcends words, something that can’t be explained, merely felt…and it’s also exactly what brings you to the edge.

“Nat…please…”

“Please, what, detka?” Wanda responds for your girlfriend.

“Can I cum? Please?”

You half-expect them to make you beg for a little longer but it seems your special day has left them more merciful than usual. Natasha’s lips make their way up your neck and onto your jawline until she reaches your lips and gives you the permission you’re searching for.

“Go ahead, cum for us.”

You’ve heard the words thousands of times and yet they make you fall apart like nothing else. The slow build-up finally reaches its peak with one more swirl of Natasha’s thumb against your clit and you literally fall face-first into your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, love. Always so good for us.”

Your response comes in the shape of a muffled whine as you bury your face into the redhead’s neck. 

The sound makes both of your girlfriends smile and Wanda moves to sit on Natasha’s other side while they wait for you to recover. “I guess we’re not leaving the hotel any time soon.”

“Are you complaining, Maximoff?”

“Shut up.”

Their bickering makes you giggle. “Wanda’s being a brat again, Nat.”

“I know.” The green-eyed woman turns her head to press a barrage of kisses against the side of your face. “I think that means she can’t join us in the shower.”

The comment draws another complaint out of the young witch and you happily rest in your girlfriend’s arms while they start up another playful argument you’ll eventually have to get in the middle of.

You don't mind though, there's no other way you'd rather spend your birthday than with them.

[devildom-moss]

November poll story - pt. 2

Denial - Mephistopheles

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (sub!Mephistopheles / dom!MC) (NSFW tags: denial; edging; ruined orgasm; no penetration; no orgasm; handjob; public why have I developed such an intense exhibitionist/risk of getting caught headcanon for him?; partially clothed Mephi, fully clothed reader; "good boy" for Mephisto he's such a good boy and I'll die on that hill)

(other tags: slight jealousy, slight angst, insecurity)

Word Count: +2,900

“Can I borrow you in the newspaper room, MC?” Mephisto nudged his way into your conversation with Satan about that mystery novel he had lent you last month.

“Not right now,” you dismissed him.

“I only need a few minutes of your time,” Mephisto insisted.

“But –”

“Go ahead,” Satan sighed, assuming you were declining on his behalf. “We can continue this later.”

“Excellent.” Mephisto placed a firm hand on your back and quickly pushed you towards the newspaper room as if he had been waiting for Satan’s approval to steal you away. Of course, that was because Mephisto assumed you wanted to go with him – and usually you did.

The second Mephisto stepped foot into the empty newspaper room, he shut the door and pushed your back against it. His lips pressed to yours in hungry, ravenous kisses. Those warm, gloved hands took hold of you by the back of your neck as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. A low growl left him, vibrating through you. The need was tangible. You could taste how much he craved you.

Yet, you pushed the starved demon back. Mephisto stared at you, breath ragged and eyes bewildered. “Again?”

You could hardly keep track of the number of times you had given Mephisto the slip over the last few weeks. If you had to take a guess, perhaps eight. Every time Mephisto tried to pull you into an empty classroom or the newspaper room when he knew no one would be there, you either refused to go with him or you pushed him away as quickly as he had gotten his hands and lips on you. It had grown frustrating. Just last month, you had five different secret rendezvouses throughout the campus – with no complaints, Mephisto would add. Not all of them ending in sex, but it was at least enough to satisfy his growing desire for you. Now, you scarcely let him kiss you before you provided a half-baked excuse as to why you needed to leave.

“I need to meet Solomon for –” you started with another excuse, trying to maneuver out of his grasp.

“No.” Mephisto boxed you in against the door, his arms planted firmly on either side of your body.

“Isn’t this a bit cliché: trapping me against the door?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“What’s up with you?” Mephisto huffed and inched closer to your face, searching your eyes for anything that would explain your sudden withdrawal.

~

The answer he was searching for was that this was, for the most part, a punishment of his own making. Three weeks ago, you overheard a conversation between Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Mephisto. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you had a report to drop off, and they were all chatting in the student council room when you heard your name leave Diavolo’s mouth.

“Are you friends with MC already, Mephistopheles?” Diavolo asked.

“I beg your pardon, My Lord?” Mephisto sounded like he had been caught off guard. You knew you shouldn’t have been listening from the hallway, but you were equal parts anxious, curious, and hoping not to embarrass anyone by showing up right as they were talking about you.

“You seem to have taken a liking to them, am I wrong?”

“I have to agree, Young Master,” Barbatos concurred. “I’ve spotted you two together on multiple occasions, Mephistopheles. Certainly, you must be on friendly terms by now.”

“Is that so?” Diavolo mused. “Have you noticed anything, Lucifer?”

“MC has not mentioned Mephisto once in my presence, although I have seen them together. Perhaps it’s one-sided, then.”

“I have absolutely no interest in that human!” Mephisto interjected – loud and adamant.

Your heart sank when those words left his mouth. Although you couldn’t fault him for trying to keep the details of your relationship a secret, there was something harsh and cruel about his denial. It was so extreme. He wouldn’t even say your name. He had reduced you down to “that human.”

“Oh?” Diavolo questioned him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you would get along.”

“We aren’t enemies, My Lord!” Mephisto tried to course-correct. “We just aren’t that friendly, is all.”

You took a deep breath before entering the council room.

“Ah, MC! What brings you in?” Diavolo greeted you. At that, Mephisto turned to stare, his face flushed with shame and guilt.

~

“Are you suddenly worried about doing this in public? I’ve been careful to lock the doors. Or,” Mephisto paused self-consciously, “do you not want me anymore? Is that why you won’t touch me?”

“Is that really what you think?” You sighed and crossed your arms. You might as well be honest. “How would you react if someone asked how I felt about you, and I told them I had no interest in ‘that demon?’ That wouldn’t hurt you?”

Mephisto’s eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about that incident – after a few days of embarrassment that kept him up at night, of course. He was mortified by your sudden arrival at the time, as if your name alone could summon you, but he never imagined you had heard what he said – although seeing you had filled him with instant regret. Unfortunately, when that guilt and regret came rushing back, Mephisto became defensive. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Lucifer. That human you’re all so fond of, well, I like them too now. Hope you enjoy more competition for their affection.’”

“That sounds exactly like something you would say.”

“And when has competing with Lucifer ever worked out for me, hm?” Mephisto ran his hand through his hair. “So, what, I tell him I want you, so he sinks his fucking claws in and takes you away from me? He hates to lose.”

“Fuck you.” His explanation irritated you. You understood that he was insecure, especially when Lucifer was involved, but Mephisto owed you more trust than that. By now, you thought you had proved that your feelings were not as fickle as he assumed them to be.

“Excuse me?” Mephisto furrowed his brows, surprised at your annoyance.

“Fuck. You,” you repeated.

Mephisto scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do for weeks.”

“Then get undressed.” You looked him up and down. “Now.”

“Really?” Enthusiasm bubbled up to the surface, and a grin bloomed on Mephisto’s face.

Mephisto yanked his jacket off and threw it over a nearby desk. His gloves, tie, and shirt quickly followed. Even your irritation with him couldn’t diminish the excitement you felt when watching him strip. Your resolution to avoid him had left you frustrated and wanting, too. Still, your lust didn’t nullify your anger, either.

When Mephisto put his hand on the side of your neck and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pushed back on his bare chest to stop him. He was about to question your continued rejection of his advances when you leaned in to bite his neck. A soft whimper escaped him. With one hand still on your neck, Mephisto used the other to try to remove your jacket. His already clumsy efforts came to a halt when you traced over the newly-formed mark with your tongue and squeezed his upper thigh in your hand, massaging small circles into his leg with your thumb. Mephisto let out a soft, pleased moan and tightened his grip on your clothes.

You chuckled, tickling his neck with your breath. Your hand slid further up until you were palming him through his pants. Mephisto gasped and let go of your neck only to bury his face into your shoulder.

“Mm, fuck. I forgot how good your touch feels,” Mephisto whispered shakily against your skin. His stomach flexed as pleasure rose in him.

You kissed from his neck, along his collarbone, and down his chest, leaving Mephisto’s flushed face exposed to the empty room. The hand that clung to your shirt let go to hold the back of your head as you peppered his chest with kisses and soft licks. When you finally focused your attention on one of his nipples, biting it gently before sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the combined pleasure and anticipation left Mephisto whining. His free hand shot up over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Mephisto had always made a decent attempt to keep the noise down when you fooled around in public, despite being so noisy in bed. He enjoyed the risk, but he was usually so careful. You gave him one more soft lick before you pulled back slightly to look up at him. The back of his hand was pressed firmly against his lips, and his eyes were half lidded – with his long lashes further obscuring his eyes as he stared at you in a lust-filled daze. A deep blush stained his cheeks and ears.

“Are you more sensitive than usual?” you teased, feeling a twitch beneath your palm.

“It’s been a while. I’m pent up.” Mephisto admitted sheepishly. He pulled his hand away from his face, revealing a slick spot of drool on his skin.

Straightening your back, you leaned close to whisper in his ear: “good.”

You rubbed over his bulge a few more times before finally undoing his pants, dropping them around his thighs, and taking his cock out. He was so hard and had already started leaking precum into his underwear. Mephisto shivered and gasped when you used his precum to lube up your hand and tease his tip. Within a few strokes, Mephisto had made enough of a mess that you could forgo alternate forms of lube.

Watching his face twist in pleasure while he bit his lip, trying to hold his moans back, you pumped Mephisto’s cock and coated his entire length with his own slick fluids. His breath grew shallow, and the moans began to escape in short, muffled whines like the initial cracks in a dam. Mephisto’s legs trembled under him, threatening to give out. You used your free hand to support his back, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“Sit on the desk behind you,” you demanded, letting go of his dick to place your hand firmly above his pelvis and push him back towards the edge of the desk.

“But it’s not mine,” he protested weakly. When had that ever stopped him before? Although, now that you thought about it, whenever you fucked in the newspaper room, it was usually up against a wall when his body could handle it, or at his own desk. It was almost cute that he respected other members of the newspaper club enough to try not to make a mess on their desks.

“Do it anyway,” you whispered in his ear. “Or would you rather hold onto your cane instead of me?”

You could have supported him more, or dragged him over to his desk, but you wanted to push him – test his desperation. You removed your hand from his back just long enough to carefully sweep any papers and obstructions to the side so Mephisto could sit comfortably. He shook his head and sat up on the desk with a soft thud.

“Good boy,” you cooed and continued to stroke him. Mephisto moaned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He unraveled just as quickly as before. Restrained whimpers echoed in your ear.

“I’m so close,” he panted. You slid your hand off him, earning an immediate whine. “W-wait. Why did you stop?”

“Why did you assume Lucifer could just take me away from you?” you questioned him. Your hand slid along his length, in slow, teasing movements. Mephisto throbbed at your touch.

“I, ah –!” You cut him off by sinking your teeth into his neck, causing him to writhe and arch his back. His yelp gave way to a guttural growl. “Fuck.”

“Well?” You licked over the bite mark.

“He’s just – he does that.”

“Mephisto,” you purred into his ear and gently scratched your nails down his chest. “Don’t I have any say in what happens?”

Once again, you started to tease Mephisto, stroking him at an achingly slow pace. Mephisto begged, “Faster. . . please?”

“Answer me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Mephisto rolled his head back and groaned with no regard for anyone who could be walking nearby.

“Didn’t mean what?” You milked him for a proper answer.

“That your feelings don’t matter,” he admitted. You rewarded his acknowledgement by rubbing him faster. “Mm, yes. Please. Like that, don’t stop.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You slowed your pace down again, earning a whimper. Mephisto bucked his hips up to meet your hand, desperate for more.

“I –” he whined, still humping against your hand. “I’m afraid.”

The confession took you by surprise. When you pulled away, you noticed frustrated tears running down Mephisto’s cheek. His panting was labored and shaky. He was distraught. Using both of your hands, you firmly pressed his thighs into the desk.

“Of what?” you asked, watching the residual pleasure on his face give way to shame.

“I can’t. . .”

“Tell me.” You let go of one of his thighs to slowly rub his tip again. A sharp inhale preceded another muffled moan. He wasn’t trying to hold back his moan this time, though; Mephisto was trying to keep the answer bottled up in his chest. The glint of concern in your eyes and the continued stimulation was forcing him open.

“I don’t know why you want me. I don’t understand you. If I just – ahh, I’m gonna –” Mephisto interrupted his confession to warn you, lolling his head back and moaning. You stopped touching him again. Although he had expected it, Mephisto still groaned at yet another ruined orgasm.

“Finish what you were saying first.”

“If I – if I convince myself that it’s out of your control, then I won’t feel so bad when you decide to leave me – or stop having sex with me or don’t want to be around me anymore.”

You felt bad for him – not because it was stupid or pathetic to be worried about, but because it made sense. It was one thing to lose your partner because some bastard had the power and charm to steal people away. It was decidedly worse to know they left you because they just didn’t want you enough anymore. For the first time in weeks, you brought your lips to Mephisto’s and kissed him deeply until he was breathless. All the while, you thumbed his tip, teasing him just enough to keep him at the edge. Suddenly, you pulled away from him.

“Finish yourself off.” You kissed his cheek. “Or don’t.”

“Why?” Mephisto protested. “I told you the truth.”

“You told me that you think I’ll stop wanting you. So let me tell you something, too.” You leaned in, nearly pressing your lips to the side of his neck. “I want you so much. I can barely contain myself. I want you right now. I’ll want you tomorrow. I’ll want you for the foreseeable future. Can you trust in that much for now?”

“If you want me, then why won’t you finish me off?” It was humiliating for Mephisto, being so afraid to lose you, desperate, and hard all at once.

“I can want you without touching you. Actually, I changed my mind.” You walked over to Mephisto’s desk and pulled out the pack of wet wipes that you knew he kept in his bottom drawer. You wiped your hands off – still sticky with precum – and grabbed a few more wipes for Mephisto before returning to his side and handing them to him. “Don’t touch yourself. Stay like that – all hard and needy and desperate – for the rest of the day. I’ll walk you home later.”

A smile snuck up on Mephisto’s face, understanding your proposition. He agreed, “Okay, I’ll wait. But could you stay with me while I calm down?”

Confused, you studied his face. He was flustered and his eyes were damp with tears. Even his hair was a mess. “Why? I’m not going to change my mind and help you finish.”

“I know,” Mephisto chuckled. “I just want you to stay by my side for a little while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You kissed his cheek, wiping away the salt residue from his tears, leaving an interrupted fossil of a stream. You took one of the spare wipes from his hand and brushed it over his cheek. “And Mephisto? I’m really sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. I avoided you because I was upset, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it – I didn’t know how the conversation would go, and I was worried it would only hurt. I should have said something, even if it was just that I was hurt and not ready to talk to you. I’ll try to do better next time. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine. You know, you play therapist too much for those brothers.” Mephisto laughed and nuzzled into your neck. He made no moves to get cleaned up and dressed yet, but he found the energy to tease you. “Please tell me orgasm denial and edging aren’t a part of your regular conflict resolution process.”

“You’re so cute,” you teased back, only exacerbating his blush and making his cock twitch. Dammit. He was so tempting, and he wasn’t even trying. You sighed, recommitting to wait until you got him home. With a gentle touch, you fixed his hair for him.

“Thank you, MC.” Mephisto grinned shyly. He still hadn’t calmed down completely, though.

As if you intended to test your resolve, you gave him another sweet, tender kiss. “You can thank me later.”

(November poll story pt. 1 - Lucifer version)

A/N: To be honest, I don't really know how I feel about this one. Hmm, but at least I can get back to requests after this, woo~ Don't forget that December's post poll is up and active for the first week of the month. While I do have opinions and preference, whatever happens is up to y'all. I never vote or look at the results until it's over, so I just wait around, hoping to be pleasantly surprised. As I've mentioned, this blog turns one later this month, so I'll do a post about that in a few days, so please look forward to it.

[commander-krios]

OTP Relationship Asks

1. Who most initiates PDA?

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

3. Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

4. How did they first meet?

5. What is their love language?

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

7. Who is more sentimental?

8. What’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

9. How are their personalities different?

10. What are some non-sexual activities they do together? 

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

17. Who fell in love first?

18. What song fits them perfectly?

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

23. Who overthinks the most?

24. Which of the two is the most competitive?

25. Who’s the most stubborn?

26. How do they comfort each other?

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

28. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

29. What is their sex life like?

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

31. What’s the relationship like? Smooth? Rocky?

32. How do they resolve their arguments?

33. Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

34. Do they give each other nicknames?

35. What movies do they enjoy watching most?

36. How’d they meet each other’s families?

37. What do they like the least about each other?

38. What was their most memorable date?

39. What other couple would your otp get along with the best?

40. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?