#you know he wouldn’t totally get it but he’d make the effort

[hurlingdown]

ur amazing at writing i kept reading ur sanji and zoro oneshots a couple of times but can we get relationship hcs of top male reader x zoro and sanji separately with a mix of nsfw and sfw? i need a nix of tooth-rotting fluff and filthy ass smut w them

relationship headcanons with zoro & sanji (top male reader, nsfw + sfw)

tags: perv!zoro, send him to horny jail, cute domestic fluff, snuggling, semi-public, soft & rough sex, spanking, jealousy, angsty crumb, sanji wears lipstick, smoking during sex, this is rly soft don't get fooled by the tags

ZORO

Romance was something neither of you regarded as crucial in your lives, until you met each other. But being with the Straw Hats meant being surrounded by constant chaos and never-ending laughter, and it wasn’t hard to realise that you found your peace in him, just as he did. 

It wasn’t a fleeting glance that made you fall in love with him. It was more gradual, more tender than you would’ve thought, with moments where you’d catch him with a poorly-hidden laugh with a joke you spouted out on a whim, or a breathtaking glare directed at you as you challenged him to a spar—moments where time would stop and you’d feel as though the world belonged to the two of you, and maybe it did. 

Zoro was awkward at first, vigilant eyes snapping up to yours every time you made an attempt to flirt with him, using his last brain cell to differentiate between a joke and a pick up line; but then he’d relax in time when you take his hands into your own or rub a thumb into the hot pulse of his neck, sliding your hand down to his lower back to make it clear what your intentions were. 

Your touch made him feel safe and assured, and that meant a lot to you. Zoro considered himself as the protector of the crew, constantly making sure that everyone was safe and okay, but rarely would someone ever ask if he was okay. You gradually became that someone in his life, and even if he wasn’t verbal about it, he was grateful to you. 

About… nicknames. From an outsider’s perspective, most would assume that Zoro wouldn’t be big on pet names and the like, considering that he demonstrated his familiarity through tone, not language. That was what you had presumed, too, in the beginning. It took over a week for you to slip up and call him ‘babe’, and he had flushed so violently all the way down his neck and chest. 

“What—what’d you say?”  “Nothing,” you quickly refuted. Perhaps he didn’t like it. “That was… the wind.”  “No, I—want to hear it.” Zoro glared at you, red in the face. “Again.”  “Babe.”  He smirked. “Yeah?” 

A few weeks into the relationship and your routines had already synced, with the two of you napping together on lazy afternoons, dozing away in each other’s arms; while on other days you’d workout and spar together. Sometimes he would purposefully let you pin him down onto the floor during a wrestling session, with you holding his hands above his head with a firm grip, the other pressing into his abdomen, warmth bleeding into skin. 

Zoro would spread his legs slightly wider to accommodate the girth of your knee, allowing it to settle snugly between his thighs. He’d feel himself getting turned on by the expressions you make, with you panting and straining with effort to keep him still. 

Sometimes he’d writhe around a bit, just to feel your strength overwhelming him, making you break a sweat. He’s a total perv when it comes to your scent: heavy and so, so masculine, especially after a nice, sweaty workout, sometimes even stealing your used shirts to keep them for himself. As for what he does with them—you haven’t found out yet. 

At night, though, it’s as if he becomes an entirely different person. He would crawl into bed with you after taking a shower together to wind down for the day, burying his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent, damp hair tickling your cheek. 

Taking the hint, you would pull him into your arms, knowing he was feeling needy and wanted someone to hold him. He would mumble a “love you”, drape an arm over your waist and fall asleep a minute later. Your night together would end once you heard his soft snores, and you’d kiss his face and hair, lavishing him with the affection you weren’t able to give him during the day, before you, too, inevitably fall asleep. 

You had thought Zoro would be more hesitant about his wants as someone who was clearly a virgin until not long ago, but boy, you were so wrong. 

After you figured out each other’s boundaries, he’d stride up to you and tell you directly. “I’m horny,” or “Fuck me,” or “I want you in bed tonight.” On other days, when you’re busy doing something else, he would crawl onto your lap, grinding his ass against your dick to get your attention, or directly palm you through your pants when he thinks no one is looking. If he wants something, he’ll get it. 

You weren’t one to deny him of his monstrous sex drive, despite the fact that he could quite literally have you take him anywhere. Secluded alleyways, the crow’s nest, even the damn kitchen—he had tried to rile you up one time while you were pouring yourself a drink, bending over the kitchen counter with a nasty, nasty expression. 

His elbows were perched on the counter with his ass facing you, and he was biting his lip, face flushing, forming an obscene expression as he looked at you heatedly over his shoulder. 

“Somethin’ the matter?”  You scoffed at the audacity. “What do you think you’re doing?”  Zoro propped his head on his fist. “Standing.”  You sent him a look of disapproval.  “Zoro. Sanji’ll kill us. You know that.”  He smirked at this. “Like that scrawny love-cook could.”  Your eyes flitted over to the doorknob uncertainly, only to find it locked. The little shit had planned this. Of course he did.  “Are you g’na make me wait?” He pushed his hips towards you, back arching a little. “Didn’t wear any underwear for you.” 

He knew exactly what to say to turn you on, not that you weren’t hard enough already—and as much as you hated it sometimes, there was an aggravating part of you that loved it. 

“Fuck it,” you swore, ripping off your belt and hurrying over to yank down his pants, and he gave a delighted shiver, knowing he had won. 

Sex with Zoro was almost animalistic, and it made sense that his favourite positions were either mating press, or doggy-style. 

He liked having you take care of him, and occasionally he’d ask you you to fuck him until he fell asleep, but it didn’t mean that he had to play an entirely passive role in your sex life. You’d watch him take you so well, almost like he was made for it, moaning and cursing so shamelessly as he brutally thrusted back against your hips, letting you know how good you were making him feel. 

(You’d gotten several complaints by the crew from the sheer amount of noise the two of you would make during sex. No one wanted to know how big your cock was, or how tight his hole was milking you.) 

He’d let you bite him all over his back—the symbol of his pride, and it was such a turn on to know that you were the only one who could leave scars there. And it was the same for you, too: at times, when he wakes up before you, you’d feel a finger trailing the scratch marks he left all over your back and shoulders the night before, and you would hear a pleased hum as he finds one that had been scarred into skin. 

On other days, though, he’d prefer making love with you. To have you as close as possible during sex, arms wound around your neck and legs securing your waist in place, letting out breathy whines into your ear as you ground the fat tip of your cock into his prostate. 

“I’m so fuckin’ close,” he’d whimper, but you’d wait it out instead of going harder and faster like he wanted, and you knew he needed to learn this—losing control. And by the end of the night he would be trembling and sobbing in your arms as you whispered comforting phrases, telling him how good he was for waiting before giving him his reward. 

Both of you are still learning, and your relationship isn’t perfect, but you’ve grown to notice and take care of each other’s wants and needs, making the most of your time spent together, and that was more than enough. 

SANJI Falling in love with Sanji was one of the things you once feared the most, and yet the outcome made you the happiest man alive. 

You had known that he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you couldn’t stop the way your affection for him seeped out in small glances, compliments—whether on the food he made for you or the way he dressed, and brief touches here and there, and the blush that bloomed on his cheeks whenever you did so just confused you even more. 

It wasn’t easy building up the courage to confess your feelings for him, but on the same night you were prepared to get rejected, he had taken liquid courage and had sort of marched towards you to grab your face and plant a firm kiss on your lips, eyes squeezed shut and slightly trembling. And that cued the beginning of your relationship. 

At first, he was, surprisingly, extremely unused to people flirting back with him, often getting flustered whenever you responded to a suggestive remark with a toe-curling kiss, or a bold touch that left goosebumps in its wake. He had always welcomed the use of pet names, though—sweetheart, darling, babe, love—the cheesier, the more he liked. 

Over the months, you found out that Sanji is an extremely attentive lover. It doesn’t matter if it was regarding food or your health, before you say the word, he’ll already have it prepared for you. 

“Hungry, sweetheart?”  “Not really. But thank you.”  “Tired? Want to cuddle?”  “... After I finish my work, then yeah, please.” You smiled at him—already lying on the bed, in his pyjamas, waiting for you to finish and spoon him. 

He would make special desserts for you after meals, keeping it hidden from Luffy and the others in a locked section of the refrigerator that only the both of you could access. Afterwards, as a way of saying thank you to him, you would french-kiss him with sweetness still lingering on your tongue. He found himself looking forward to those kisses. They were special to him. 

Another thing is that Sanji’s very good with his hands, so oftentimes you would find yourself in the tub with him gently massaging your shoulders and your scalp, not stopping until he’s satisfied with the string of appreciative noises you make. You would offer to help him, but he tells you every time that he’s all good with just pleasing you—knowing very well that his body wouldn’t be able to handle such an intimate massage from you. 

Jealousy was something the both of you couldn’t handle that well—one of the major things that needed fixing in your relationship. You knew he wasn’t going to give up on flirting with every beautiful woman he had an interaction with—that was imbued into his personality—but that didn’t mean you didn’t have a right to get possessive. 

One time at a bar, instead of Sanji initiating the flirting as usual, a redhead strode up to him, touched him in front of you, and pressed a kiss to his lips with a sultry smile. Sanji froze, unable to react in time, and the eye that peeked over to look at you was full of guilt and something else. 

That night, you had bent him over your lap and spanked him so hard he had turned into a blubbering mess of “more” and “too much”, crying and telling you he was sorry, that he wouldn’t let it happen again. By the time you were done with him, he had passed out with the mattress under him drenched with white, his flaccid dick telling you that he had came untouched. You cleaned him up and laid him on your shared bed, lying on the opposite side with a heavy heart. 

In the morning, you woke up to Sanji lying in your arms, his eyelids red and swollen, lips chapped. When he woke up, he had sincerely apologised, telling you that he had been genuinely so afraid of you leaving him. 

Since then, he’s only had eyes for you, even being less affectionate to Nami and Robin than usual—but one could notice him stealing dumb, lovesick glances at you, or the quirk of his eyebrow every time you spoke up, or his rare smile when you caught his eye across the room. 

Sex with Sanji depended on the mood. He was always up to trying new things—even going so far as to propose them himself.

Sometimes, he’d borrow lipstick from Nami to apply all over his lips, only to press open-mouthed kisses to your pulse, claiming your heartbeat. 

The first time you saw him with lipstick on, it felt like a fever dream. 

“Are you wearing lipstick?”  “Yeah. Do you like it?”  “You’re so fucking hot.” 

You were insanely into it. Next moment he was riding you slow with a cigarette between his full lips, staining the filter with a lovely dark red before placing it in your mouth in an indirect kiss. 

At some point you got tired of all the smoke, and decided to topple him over onto the bed so you could fuck him properly. He was gasping for air by then, and was forced to put out the cigarette out on the ashtray nearby, soft whiny moans punched out of him as he bewailed at the loss of it. 

“D-darling! Slow down—that was a perfectly—fine, hngh, cigarette—!”  “It was distracting you.”  “You’re—you’re the one who decided to jump me when I was—!”  “Not my fault you decided to wear lipstick, love.”  “Ah, just shut up n’ kiss me—” 

You bent down to kiss him with a grin, muffling his whimpers as he mumbled something about going to come soon. There were lipstick smudges all over your lips and face, and you revelled in the taste of sugar sweet mixed with the heavier, dull scent of tobacco. It should be disgusting—but he tasted heavenly to you. 

You groaned as he felt his walls grip you so suddenly, your impending orgasm crashing down onto you like magma stirring in your core. As your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, you had an epiphany. 

Sanji wore lipstick for a reason. 

The way he used to constantly flirt with women and his habit of smoking were the parts of himself that Sanji was willing to give up for you. Learning to be attentive and figuring out your likes and peeves were parts of himself that he acquired for you. 

Now, they were all bits and pieces of the man you were in a happy relationship with, the man you loved more than anything else in the world. 

And if Sanji was willing to give up himself for you, then you would do the same, for him. 

p.s. fixed!

[zriasstuff]

Them watching you get ready <3

Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)

the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now

It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…

Tom Riddle:

Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)

He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking

Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes

While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine

When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management

Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)

Mattheo Riddle:

He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready

When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one

He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)

During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red

As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated

When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”

Draco Malfoy:

When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts

Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him

Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her

So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories

He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”

Theodore Nott:

He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too

You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him

When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body

That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too

It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time

Blaise Zabini:

He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity

He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”

Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did

He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest

As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty

Lorenzo Berkshire:

When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually

So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process

Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)

To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be

Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.

word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.

a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.

Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.

It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..

And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.

In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.

At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.

Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.

Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.

He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.

Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.

You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours. 

Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.

“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.

You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.

. 8:24 PM

hey, how are you feeling?

. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...

🤣

You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.

“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.

“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply. 

“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.

“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.

“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”

You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.

“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”

“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.

Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.

Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.

“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.

Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”

You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?

“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time

“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.

“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.

Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”

“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.

“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..

“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.

“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”

“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.

“I’ll get it done,” you said, following  his move. “Eventually.”

Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.

“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.

For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.

Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.

When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.

“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.

Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.

And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.

“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”

Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.

Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?

“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”

Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.

“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”

“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.

He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.

His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.

“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”

“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”

Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.

Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment. 

The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up. 

You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.

Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.

“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.

“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”

“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”

Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”

You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”

“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”

Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.

You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.

“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.

“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.

“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”

Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.

“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working. 

Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled  into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.

“That’s different.”

“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.

“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.

Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.

It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.

He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.

You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”

“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.

There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.

The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.

“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”

“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.

You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.

He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby. 

All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.

“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”

It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.

His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.

You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.

“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.

“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”

Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.

“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.

“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”

Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”

Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”

“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”

Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.

The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.

Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.

You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.

Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.

But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.

Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.

“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with. 

Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.

“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”

Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.

“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”

You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly. 

What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.

“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”

The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.

You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.

“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”

With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.

“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”

“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.

Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.

“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.

“I better head home.”

“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.

“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.

Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.

“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.

“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.

“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.

“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.

“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you. 

Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.

Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”

It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses  in the increasingly chilly days of September.

“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.

“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”

You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”

Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.

And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another. 

The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant. 

“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”

One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time. 

At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.

A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.

Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.

You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”

It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute  pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on. 

“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.

It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.

But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.

All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.

A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.

It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.

Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.

In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.

Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.

“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”

“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.

No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.

“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.

“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”

“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.

“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”

You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.

“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”

“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”

“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.

“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”

“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”

“In your room.” 

Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.

You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition. 

Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.

“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”

His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.

You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.

Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.

“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”

Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.

You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”

“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”

“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.

“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.

“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.

The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.

“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”

Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.

“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”

“Daddy, I-I…”

You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”

His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.

“Get your things and get away from this house.”

You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.

Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.

“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”

“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”

“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”

You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”

Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.

“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”

Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away. 

You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.

Great. Just fucking great.

.

.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @amberpanda99; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

[lawsfuckasshat]

✙ ✙ ✙ olive branch. 🕊️🫀

gn!strawhat!reader, pre-dressrosa.

warnings: swearing, brief death mention, pre-relationship, law’s perspective, very short and hopefully sweet. not beta’d.

a/n: first time posting my writing ever… i hope it’s alright! i don’t think there’s an official reason for why law dislikes bread, but i like the headcanon that it’s because corazón doesn’t like it either :))

“so, is it like, a yeast thing?”

law rolls his eyes, face painted with his typical scowl. as cool, mysterious, and annoyed as ever. he crosses his arms, leaning back against the mast.

“no, __-ya.” he utters. you nod sagely, like you’re studying the guy under a microscope, and don’t seem deterred by his attitude in the slightest.

“then… is it a texture issue? ‘cause i totally understand that, i really don’t like-“

“i’m finding it difficult to understand why you want to know so badly.” law wishes that his intentionally curt answers would make you stop pestering him, would make his heart stop skipping beats every time you tried to pry open his hard outer shell. ‘mind over matter’ works well in every other aspect of how he presents himself, but the blood rushing to his face refuses to cooperate with him. great.

“i just wanna understand you,” you reply earnestly, “and what goes on in that pretty head of yours, is all. ya know?” for a split second, law is afraid that his heart has failed, if the free-falling drop in his chest is anything to go by. how could you say something like that so easily? right to his face, like you were talking about something as simple as the weather?

he tries to carefully pick his words, running through dozens of possibilities in his head, brain scrambling to say something, anything that’ll get you to leave him alone to wallow in his thoughts (…you think he’s pretty?) you wouldn’t really leave him alone if you left though, would you?

instead, he chooses to ignore you. head tilting down, one of his crossed arms coming up to tug the bill of his hat further down his face, shoulders slightly scrunching in. he feels like everything his body is doing is absolutely, incredibly, extremely obvious to you. his palms sweat uncomfortably and he’s so goddamn aware of your presence next to him, it’s driving him up the wall. he wishes he wasn’t so awkward, so scarred by all the loss in his life.

you don’t say anything, just turn your body and lean back against the mast with him. he briefly thinks his stonewalling worked.

“that’s okay.” you utter. there’s no rejection anxiety, no hurt in your voice. law’s shoulders and hidden scowl don’t relax, but he huffs out a hushed sigh. he stays quiet otherwise and waits a long minute before chancing a glance at you.

you’re leaned back against the mast, body language lax and open, although your arms are loosely crossed. your eyes are closed, skin sun-kissed. gentle sea breeze brushing across your clothes. you look warm, he thinks. he wishes you would reach out and touch him, but he also doesn’t 100% know if he’d like it. maybe he would.

law hates taking risks. he needs everything carefully planned out in his head before he makes a move, especially with the fruits of a thirteen year long effort coming to fruition in the next few days. he’s prepared to die kicking and screaming, fighting tooth and nail. he can’t fuck a single facet of his plan up.

then again, he’s dealing with the straw hat pirates here. a crew known for miracles. law steels his resolve and takes a calculated breath.

“someone i cared about a great deal didn’t like bread.”

the way you grin at him makes risking the olive branch worth it.

@ lawsfuckasshat 4.2.24

[sc0tters]

Repeated Promises | Trevor Zegras

summary: Trevor sees you out with Alex and that unleashes some big emotions in him that he’s dying to tell you about.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mature scenes, oral (fem receiving!)

word count: 1.78k

authors note: this didn’t make super smut Thursday because I didn’t originally plan on making this smutty but then it just happened. And Trevor’s already got his piece for this Thursday planned out. Been eating for this part so I’m glad I’ve finally gotten it written.

pt1

He thought you two were good.

Life was good, you and Trevor were good, everything was good. You seemed to be okay with the idea of just being friends with a little bit more. Trevor actually found himself growing fond of you, the late night cuddles, the shared laughs over dinner as you two watched a movie.

Which is why he was so surprised when Twitter seemed to be having a meltdown over you being caught in downtown LA in Alex’s hoodie whilst he had his arm around you.

It made Trevor feel sick to his stomach, he wasn’t naturally jealous but the image of you looking up at Alex with a toothy grin had him wanting to go feral. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt as much if you also hadn’t blown off you plans you had with the Ducks player that evening.

You were totally unaware of the fact that you were taking up all of the space in Trevor’s mind as you lay on your couch mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

A smile formed on your lips as you came across a Snapchat highlight that Cole had sent you. Trevor was stood between your legs as you fed him a piece of mango.

Those moments were things you loved, they were the true time when Trevor fooled you into thinking that he could have loved you. Especially since he came back from the lake house, the way his hands would wrap around your waist before he’d pick you up and throw you onto your bed.

It was playful and romantic as he would kiss the back of your neck when you were getting ready in the bathroom. Sure it felt like a punch to the gut as each time he’d leave your apartment you were reminded by the fact that he wasn’t ever really yours, not truly.

You craved the comfort that would have come from him being yours because as much as you tried to pull away by getting closer with Alex, nothing really did ever work well enough.

So when there was a knock at your door it pulled you away from rethinking about those memories “hey-” you were surprised to see Trevor, whenever he came over you two had always planned it.

He looked angry as he locked eyes with you “where is he?” Trevor asked as his eyes cringed at the sight of you still in Alex’s hoodie.

It wasn’t farfetched for you to still be in it as your apartment was always freezing “who?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you didn’t know who he was talking about.

You would have looked beautiful if that hoodie was different because you were not wearing shorts under it and that was soon going to become clear “Alex, y/n who else would I be talking about?” He spoke in a duh tone as he pushed past you and into your apartment.

There wasn’t a moment that you ever thought that Trevor was jealous. It wasn’t something you thought he was capable of feeling “I hung out with him,” you announced with a scoff “so what?” It reminded you of the time back at the lake house when you had tried to avoid him.

All of your friends were upset that their effort to help you leave him had failed “you think this is some kind of joke or something?” The hockey player was ready to punch a wall as he picture Alex’s face there instead.

You crossed your arms as you followed him to your kitchen “why are you so upset that I hung out with my friend?” You didn’t appreciate the boy coming in and calling you the bad guy “your friend?” Trevor couldn’t believe the words that feel from your lips as he walked over to you.

Your body was pressed up against your counter as your breathing slowed “you don’t look at him like he’s just a fucking friend,” the boy spat as his hand pushed up your leg when he was so upset that he didn’t even notice your lack of shorts.

Alarm bells rang through your head but you couldn’t help it when you felt your panties turn wet as the thoughts pooled in them “he is,” you mumbled as you sat on the counter.

Trevor hooked his fingers under your jaw “you look at him like you look at me.” He pointed out as he began placing kisses on your chin going down your jaw.

Before you knew it your fingers locked in his hair “you jealous?” Your voice came out in a groan as you tried to shut your thighs to conceal the feelings that went through your brain but you couldn’t because he was stood between you.

It was rough trying to keep your calm “not jealous,” he shook his head “not when I can give you the world.” He explained as he pulled away to face you.

The hockey player didn’t know what to think about as all he wanted to do was kiss you “got you in my mind twenty four seven,” the boy confessed as his fingers brushed over your lower lip.

Your eyes went wide “no you don’t,”you shook your head as you tried to push his chest away but he remained stood where he was “I’m crazy about you baby.” Trevor pointed out as he really didn’t know where all of this was coming from.

Throughout his whole life he had never quite like he did in that moment “really?” You let out a gasp as you cocked your head.

His hands continued to move up your legs “on fuck baby,” he groaned as his fingers met the lacy fabric of your underwear.

You turned pink as he lifted up your hoodie to confirm what he thought “you knew I’d be here didn’t you?” Trevor asked as he could see the wet patch on your panties “god you’re so wet,” he mumbled as he placed kissed down your neck.

It was like your voice disappeared as the boy hooked his fingers into your panties “want to show you just how much I care about you,” the devilish smile spread on Trevor’s face as he watched your red thong hit the floor.

Before you could let him do that though you placed your hands on either side of his face “I’m crazy about you.” You confessed causing the boy to waste no time as he kissed you.

There wasn’t as much lust in this one as there usually is and he couldn’t help but grow frustrated when you didn’t let his tongue in your mouth.

But with Trevor being Trevor he had a plan so instead he let his fingers dance over your clit yet you moaned when he thrusted into your core.

That gave him the chance to let his tongue move inside of you “such pretty sounds,” Trevor cooed as he let out a grunt against your ear.

You nodded as you clenched around his fingers “quicker,” you begged as you began to grind against his fingers “my needy little girl.” The boy wanted to smirk but as his pants grew tight he could no longer handle it.

Trevor pulled his fingers out of you whimpered “don’t worry doll,” he chuckled as he kissed your temple “won’t let you go just yet,” the boy mumbled as his eyes never left yours when he dropped to his knees “please T.” You begged as you watched him kiss up your thighs.

The boys smirk could be felt as it radiated off of your thighs “you know if you don’t hurry up I might just go find-” you were cut off as his tongue licked a long strip up your slit.

His head was quickly locked into place as your thighs wrapped around his head making sure he truly couldn’t leave you

It was hot as you let out a long moan “just like that,” your head hit the cupboard behind you as the boy refused to stop sucking on your clit. His tongue pleasured you in ways that you knew you never could, no matter how hard you tried Trevor truly did ruin you for all other men.

Not even phone sex helped you, in order to come it had to be his tongue, his fingers, his dick was a pick part of that too. But in general you used needed Trevor.

Your thoughts had gotten so clouded that you didn’t even notice that his tongue was currently lapping up your wetness “fuck delight,” your hand gripped at his brunette locks as you let your hips grind against him.

Trevor let his eyes trail up as you pulled Alex’s hoodie off of your body letting it fling somewhere else in your kitchen. His hand moved up to your bra as he let out a grunt watching you quickly unclip your bra “my pretty little girl,” the hockey player cooed as his thumb rubbed over your nipple “all ready to get fucked out,” he groaned as he watched you nod.

His tongue went back to fucking your core as he continued to tease your stiff peaks “all for you,” you confessed as your body shuddered when you felt his nose hit your clit “keep doing just that please,” you begged as your hand locked over his.

You gasped when he lay his tongue flat on your clit before he let himself move back into your core, a motion that he continued to repeat a few more times “I’m gonna cum fuck!” Your legs began to shake as his tongue refused to leave your core.

The orgasm hit you like a truck as your eyes screwed shut “enough T-” you got the sentence out as you unlocked your legs from around his head.

Trevor smiled as he got up from the floor “always tasting so good,” your release caused his chin to glisten.

His fingers ran over your thighs as he pulled you into a kiss wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue “never gonna get tired of that,” the first his he’d give you after you came always made you melt into his touch.

Somehow though it seemed like there was something on his mind “what’s up?” You asked like he wasn’t just eating you out minutes ago.

The boy stood between your legs as his arms rested on either side of you “wanna take you out on a real date.” He blurted out taking you by surprise.

Over the last year you always thought you would be the one to ask him out. A giggle left your lips “really?” You weren’t letting your surprise stay hidden.

“Promised you the fucking world baby.”

[onlyhuis]

hi june :] i've been thinking about it, who do u think from svt would be most likely to wanna hold ur hand during sex? 💤

hi beloved 💤!! this made me squeal and giggle and kick my feet this is such a me ask so ofc i had to talk about my thoughts!! hope you enjoy :)

member | svt ot13 x afab reader genre | mtl, smut, fluff (each member has a little paragraph) word count | ~950 warnings | descriptions of female anatomy, mentions of bondage, soft sex & rough sex

most

1 - jun

i’m definitely not biased at all but i think he loves holding hands like anywhere 24/7 at home, walking in public, in the car, and especially during sex. it’s as natural to him as breathing. if he doesn’t have your hand to hold, then is life even worth living at that point. he especially loves it when you offer your hand to him before he even has to ask, and he’ll take it and hold your hands together beside your head and kiss you over and over again until you can barely think any thoughts other than how good he feels thrusting into you and how warm and soft his hands feel in yours

2 - seokmin

the dk stands for dude kisser but here is a little known fact it also stands for d-hand k-holder. he is the clingiest man on the planet and we know this because he anytime you turn around he’s hugging the nearest person as hard as he possibly can so he would totally be the same way during sex. he’d hold onto your arms, your wrists, your hands, anything he could reach but tangling his fingers with yours would be so grounding for him and honestly it would give him a head rush from the closeness with you

3 - hoshi

i think he actually really likes holding hands but he’s always too busy horanghae-ing with them. kidding i actually feel like he would be a lot higher on the list than you might think because he’s a clingy boy and he needs to be touching every inch of your skin at all times or he might short-circuit

4 - joshua

he would say the reason he likes holding hands is because he’s a gentleman and he’s being romantic blah blah, but the real reason is that he has a raging size kink (me too), particularly for hands: it would drive him absolutely crazy seeing his large hands covering yours and seeing how your fingers can barely wrap around his palm would get him so riled up. once you both cum he’d probably ask you for a handjob because he wants to see your hands one more time as you struggle to fit them around his cock

5 - mingyu

big clumsy puppy man would love holding your hand but i think he would be deterred from doing it if the position required more effort on his part, so he would probably only do it in simpler positions like missionary where he can clasp your hands together and just fuck you into the next dimension without putting much thought into it

6 - chan

chan seems very possessive to me (in a healthy way) so i think he would like holding your hand because it shows that you’re his and he’s the only one that gets to have the honor of holding your hand

7 - minghao

i think he would enjoy it an average amount. he wouldn’t mind if you don’t do it every single time, but if you asked him he would prefer holding hands over not. he would probably cite some study that says holding hands is good for relationships or something but he would also just enjoy how it makes everything feel more intimate

8 - jeonghan

in my mind he is a little bit of a secret hopeless romantic, so he might do it and not even say anything about it. he’d get you distracted with his cock hitting just the right place inside of you, and when you’re so gone you can barely do anything but whimper and moan, he’d take the opportunity to slide his fingers down your arms to join your hands together gently. he’d let go afterwards and if you ask him he’d probably pretend it never happened, but in the moment his heart would be soaring when he finally gets to lock hands with you

9 - seungcheol

he would like holding hands but only during softer sessions where he’s taking his time and really wants to feel connected to you. the times when you’re not being soft, his hands are too busy being preoccupied elsewhere on your body for him to even think about holding yours. but i guarantee he’ll hold them constantly once you’re done for the night and all cleaned up, he’ll have his arms wrapped around you and his hands entwined with yours until you fall fast asleep

10 - wonwoo

9 times out of 10 he’s got your hands tied up so it would be kinda hard to hold them in that position. but that 10th time he would be squeezing your hands so hard his knuckles turn white and pressing your hands into the mattress with all his weight

11 - seungkwan

he would like it on occasion but he strikes me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t like having sweaty hands so he wouldn’t do it too often because it’s just too sticky for him sometimes. but you know what he does strike me as? the kind of guy who really likes pulling on your hair. so if his hands are anywhere, that’s probably where they’d be

12 - woozi

honestly i don’t think he would even notice where his hands are. he gets so caught up in the moment and everything else happening that he can’t feel anything except your pussy squeezing his cock. he loses track of time and he probably doesn’t even know what year it is anymore. if he’s holding your hand then it’s not from a conscious effort on his part

13 - vernon

he likes holding hands because it makes him feel closer to you, but honestly he wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t hold his hand. if it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t, he’s not mad either way. genuinely he doesn’t care where his hands are as long as he’s inside of you

least

> no taglist because it's not really a drabble! however, if you'd like to join my taglist and be tagged in future fics you can join my taglist here!

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

[h-harleybaby]

basketball player kyle and cheerleader reader … 😨😨😨

I hate you for rigging it Dino 🖕🖕

Next time I’m not adding Kyle to any polls. I despise you, YOU FUCKINF BLOODHOUND (affectionate… somewhat)

Basketball player!Kyle x cheerleader!reader

• You probably got in cheerleading for him for the most part Tbh, not that Kyle knows. He keeps convincing himself it was to make your college application look good

• He definitely tries a lot harder when you’re there, I mean you and your team are doing all this for his team, might as well win right?

• Not to mention he feels like he has to be the best in everything he does. But honestly that more applies to academics

• Hot take, despite being built like basketball player he’s honestly not that good

• That man is a tall twig looking NERD with glasses and everything. He definitely tries though, and that counts doesn’t it?

• It takes Kyle a while to actually be good at playing because I don’t care what you hoes say, that man works!! He’s not just naturally good at everything he has FLAWS

• He put so much effort into it and it’s like, good for him!! Even if he did wanna give up a lot because he wasn’t immediately perfect at it

• You’re definitely thirsting over Kyle the entire game, and probably cheering extra loud for him

• I wouldn’t be surprised if he wore his glasses on the court and got distracted by you cheering for him one day, and accidentally broke his glasses

• Lesson learned, wear contacts 🙄

• Anyways, you’re totally simping over the sweaty nerd boy running on the court desperately trying to impress you. Spoiler alert, he does not. Somehow he wins your heart anyways?

• If you ask nicely, he’ll let you wear the varsity jacket he has for basketball because he honestly can’t really say no to you

• He’s honestly proud but horrendously embarrassed as you flaunt around his jacket

• I’m half sure it’s canon he’s a huge germaphobe and he’d rather get beat up by Cartman than give you his jersey right after a game, even if you beg

• He probably washes it at least twice before he even lets you touch it. He may be a very logical guy, but the germaphobe in him is stronger than any logic he has

• He’s somehow convinced that you would get sick if you wore his sweaty jersey, which honestly feels like nonsense but there’s just no reasoning with the guy when he’s being a germaphobe

• I feel like Kyle goes to the gym a lot, especially during off season and you probably end up tagging along

• Sometimes you exercise with him, sometimes you choose some random bench to fall asleep on because we all know he’d go to the gym at 5 in the morning

• He’s always trying to get you to play basketball too but sweetie, it really just ain’t in the cards. Mainly because you’re joking around and not really trying

• Internally, Kyle goes feral when he sees you in your cheer uniform. Well not JUST internally, def after his games too

I swear I wasn’t trying to insult him guys 😭😭

[technofantasia]

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's had 24/7 access to a secret superpower that lets him instantly and completely fix anything that goes wrong in his life. Anything that breaks, anyone that gets hurt, anything that happens and has a negative result can be immediately rewound and brushed off as if it never happened with nobody ever the wiser; after all, it's not like anyone he's met can even SEE his stand, let alone realize he's using it to do anything. Even if he does it while someone else is present, would they really believe that Josuke has some sort of healing superpower over the idea that they were just wrong about the thing having been broken in the first place? Probably not.

What kind of effect would that power have on a developing kid?

Imagine that he's playing a video game and he's getting really frustrated because he keeps dying in the same place over and over. If that happened to you, what would you do? Maybe gear up to chuck the controller into the TV? But, wait, you can't do that! If you did, it might be satisfying for a second, but then you'd have to deal with the fallout of a broken TV and an angry parent. Not worth it. Josuke, on the other hand? If HE totally destroyed the TV, he could have that momentary satisfaction of letting the frustration out, then just quickly fix the TV and get back to the grind. No harm, no foul, no bits of glass to sweep out of the carpet or mother tearing her hair out in upset. Of COURSE he'd do it. Why wouldn't he?

Imagine that he forgets his locker combination, because oops head too full of teenage miscellany. Would he go through the effort of fumbling around to find whichever pocket he shoved the slip of paper with his combination in to open it while he's already late to class? Or would he just tear the door off its hinges, retrieve his stuff, and shove it back on in two seconds flat? Imagine that he's messing around with some friends trying to climb a huge tree, when one of them falls getting two broken bones and a concussion. Would he call the friend an ambulance and decide climbing tall trees is too dangerous? Or would he just climb down, heal the friend back up, say something to the effect of "oh wow, good thing you ended up okay!", and continue doing what he was doing safe in the knowledge that his stand could save him or cushion the fall if HE ever slipped? (He may not be able to HEAL himself, but he can certainly protect himself from the same kinds of damage other people get.)

Those are all just hypotheticals, but we do see examples of him doing those kinds of things in the series. He beats up anyone who pisses him off only to instantly heal them afterwards. He tears off Hazamada's locker door to look inside without a second thought. In the wake of his grandpa's murder, he destroys and fixes a ton of furniture in his house. He mentions fixing a friend's broken leg. He DEFINITELY doesn't shy away from anything dangerous, and not just out of general shounen recklessness. When Aqua Necklace hides inside his mother's body, he forgoes any convoluted plan to save her and just punches her through the stomach without hesitation because he knows with 100% certainty, the certainty of lived experience, that she'd be completely fine afterwards, that she wouldn't even notice. He waited to try healing his grandpa when he saw him sprawled across the floor because he didn't have a doubt in his mind that, even if he took his time getting there, as soon as he did he'd be up again like nothing happened. (He was only wrong once.)

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's learned that being reckless almost never leads to consequences. He's learned that its okay to make mistakes because pretty much any mistake he makes can be quickly and easily fixed with no lasting damage. He's learned that, as long as he's the one who takes responsibility for something, everything turns out okay for everyone.

We can see all that easily in his personality and the way he acts. He's unbelievably chill, cool-headed and reasonable even in situations where NOBODY would be; stakes are very different for somebody who can effortlessly reverse anything short of death, so of course he doesn't panic at those sorts of things. By contrast, things like "no money" or "waded into leech pool" (or, for a more serious example that comes up in the series, "friend/family is missing") are not as easily fixed and thus are a much bigger deal.

Despite how much it takes to make him full on panic, though, he is far from careful on a regular day. Sure, he may be chill, but all that means is that he'll calmly and deliberately do something insane instead of doing it in a panicked frenzy. We see dozens of examples of Josuke casually thinking his way out of situations by coming up with a crazy reckless solution on the spot that would be a last-ditch measure by anyone else, just because he's so used to thinking with his stand's ability in mind. (While you could maybe argue this applies to most Jojo protagonists, I still think Josuke manages to be one of the most reckless on-the-spot planners in the series while also being one of the most generally well-collected AND having a solidly in-place sense of self preservation, which is still an interesting combination in contrast with the other protagonists.)

It's worth noting, of course, that Josuke DOES have a bit of a (literal) hair-trigger temper, but rages on Josuke are short, concentrated, and in a strange sense, controlled. While he's certainly much less reasonable and more destructive than usual when in rage mode, said destruction never extends past the source of the anger; he feels mad, so he lets it out, handles the situation, and almost instantly falls back to baseline. Like chucking a controller at a TV and fixing it back up. A controlled explosion.

All of this is to say that, even when Josuke does reckless or destructive things, it's not because Josuke himself is a reckless or destructive person; far from it. Josuke's top priority is keeping the peace. Why else would he choose to be so meek towards bullies on the first day of school, even knowing he could wipe the floor with them? Why else would his first reaction to being told he was the result of an affair be to humbly apologize for the trouble his existence caused, instead of any kind of personal confusion or upset? The only reason he acts how he does is because he knows from experience that inserting himself into a situation, striking fast and hard however is appropriate, then fixing up the aftermath, is the most efficient way to solve problems for himself and everyone around him. He's not a pushover. He'll stand up for himself and what's important to him when he needs to. But ultimately he just wants the best for everyone, and since he's been gifted the ability to fix things, to heal, doesn't it make sense to use it?

In that way, Josuke acts as a perfect foil to Kira. Neither of them deny themselves whatever they want, neither of them are used to experiencing consequences for their actions, and both of them just want a peaceful life; the difference is, Kira destroys problems. Josuke fixes them.

An interesting side effect of this mindset is that Josuke ends up taking on responsibility for all sorts of things that are in no way his burdens to bear. We see a number of times throughout the series that he never backs away from a situation he could potentially do something about, to the point of even inserting himself into situations he really doesn't need to. Any time he CAN heal someone, he does; in the Harvest episode, in particular, Josuke heals a number of tiny injuries Okuyasu picked up without comment as soon as he could. It's so ingrained that, during their dice game, Rohan mutilates himself in order to keep Josuke from running away, since he knew Josuke would never leave him like that even though they hate each other. Of course Josuke would consider it his responsibility to heal the hand Rohan messed up himself such that he'd stay in a terrible situation he could easily walk away from just for the opportunity to heal him. It's a no-brainer.

And because Josuke takes on so much extra responsibility, because Josuke is considered by both all his friends and himself to be the multi-purpose get out of jail free card, he takes it that much harder whenever anything seriously goes wrong. There's almost a level of existential disbelief to it. Sure, anybody would be upset when something bad happens, like, say, a family member or friend dying because of your own negligence, but with Josuke... When his grandpa dies, and then paralleled later when Okuyasu gets blown up by Killer Queen, he sounds confused. Like he just experienced something impossible. People can't die around him. It's not even a question. He has a healing superpower! People can't die around someone with a healing superpower, especially not when they're literally a few steps away!! So, then, if it really did happen, what does that say about him? When he gets the call from Koichi during the fight against Sheer Heart Attack, he panics and rushes into action immediately. It's easy to imagine what could have been flashing through his mind.

Because of his stand, the stand he got after a formative experience when he was just a small kid, he always has the unique ability to help. To help himself, to help others. All he has to do is put in the effort, show as much kindness as he can as soon as it's needed, and he can keep everyone happy and healthy. At the end of the day, if he can do something, he will. Every time.

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he decided that he wanted to be like the person who saved him when he and his mom were stranded in the snow. He saw the way that guy went out of his way to help a total stranger, showing kindness to people who needed it more than he could ever know, taking off his coat in the cold despite his own injuries just because it was the right thing to do, and he thought: "I want to be like that". Through that decision, he received the power to do just that. Over the years, he used that power again and again; for himself, for others, for everyone he could. And eventually, that's exactly the kind of person he grew into.

[blithesharem]

Obey Me Brothers - Most Shameful Kink HC’s

What kinks do the boys keep locked up extra tight?

Sailors Beware…dead dove do not read if you’re going to clutch your pearls thx

Lucifer - Shibaru/Robe Bondage on him

Lucifer is perfectly happy to be all dom all the time, and he loves tying you up. But deep down in his naughtiest dreams he’s burning up at the thought of you standing over him, the silk ropes against his skin, being at the mercy of your small, soft hands…Something about being restrained by someone as fragile and gentle as you keeps him up at night. He’d never suggest it but if you did? Oh, there would be clear signs of his pleasure. He might even let you gag him so all you can hear are his pants and groans as you take your time with him.

Mammon - Pegging

Look. He can explain, okay? Having your hand on the back of his neck, pressing his face into the sheets? Or squeezing his hips as you hold his thighs open and fuck him? Mammon wants to be a sloppy mess only for you, and giving you total command like this will have him cumming more than once. The sight of you strapped up alone is enough to have him panting like a dog.

Speaking of dogs, if you’re a lover who already has a dick? Pet play. Put a collar on him and let him be your good boy. Make sure you praise him lots and he’ll do whatever his master commands.

Leviathan - Choking

Sex between you two already gets plenty kinky between roleplaying and gender play, but what really makes Levi explode is the idea of your warm hands wrapped around his throat squeezing. He wants to be utterly at your mercy, just a dirty toy you’re using to cum, bruising your thighs with his fingers as you ride him. Spit in his mouth and degrade him while choking him and he’ll be seeing stars. The soothing aftercare makes the abuse feel all the better and the peeks in the mirror of the bruises give him thrills all day long.

Satan - Public Sex

Satan is a stickler for rules and takes reputation and decorum seriously…which is why the thought of you getting so worked up you just have to take him in the back of the library makes him burn. Oral in alleys, fucking under your skirt in an almost empty movie theater…Satan hates that he loves it but god does he love it. You almost wouldn’t know, with the effort he makes to resist the temptation, but letting you get him more and more worked up until he can’t help himself any longer is part of the fun.

Asmodeus - Cuckholding

There is very little that doesn’t get Asmo’s fire going, and less that he wouldn’t tell you about. Even this he’s not exactly ashamed of…it’s just a little off brand for him. Of course, he’s not going to be satisfied by watching you get fucked by just anybody. Oh no. Asmo wants to watch you get cock drunk destroyed by at least two demons, if not more. He wants to be able to get a perfect view of every single orgasm they pound out of you, and draping over an armchair, sipping champagne and watching the show is the perfect way to do that. The idea that he’s not allowed to touch you, and you’re not allowed to touch him, makes him even hotter, so plan to spend the next morning reliving every detail with him rutting inside of (or riding) you (in between godly pampering sessions of course).

Beelzebub - Sleep Sex

This is more expected from his twin, and it makes Beel red to talk about, but…sometimes when he gets back to bed after a late night snack, and you’re laying there so warm, and vulnerable, and innocent looking…well, just a few licks can’t hurt right? If you’re already naked it’s even harder to resist hilting his thick cock inside of you, doing his best to move slowly and not let his moans wake you. It’s never long before he can’t help himself however, and you’ve been awoken by mind blowing orgasms more than once, pinned to the bed by his body with his moans in your ear.

Belphagor - Travel vibrators/orgasm denial

Belphie’s maintains he’s not a sadist like some demons he could mention, but he is a brat, and he loves torturing you. He wants to watch you squirming all day, before turning up the heat during a council meeting or one of Lucifer’s lectures. No matter how good you think you get at hiding your arousal, he can always tell, and knows how to keep you just on the cusp of orgasming. He wants you dripping wet and begging by the time he gets you home and finally let’s you cum around his cock. And if you turn the tables and take a turn keeping him riding the edge for too long? You’ll get to hear some of the dirtiest words he knows as he whines and pleads.

[superstarz9]

So y’all fw EVEN MORE Mr. Puzzles hcs?

Cause I got some :}

tbh I feel like Puzzles get’s too babied in the fandom. A lot of people forget that he’s kind of an asshole, and takes a long time to warm up to people. However, once he realizes how he feels and is willing to reach out more, things get a lot better.

It’d probably be really awkward more than anything else. He wouldn’t understand relationship stuff and you’d have to explain things to him, which would kill the tension for a bit. However, he makes a huge effort trying to be a good partner.

Puzzles wants a relationship (platonic or romantic) but doesn’t want to be fixed/helped. He likes the attention and having a permanent audience.

If anyone here knows Guilty Gear, you guys would probably be like A.B.A and Paracelsus, where the two of you would get into a relationship out of needing something from the other rather than for genuine interests (Him wanting someone to control and you wanting to fix him (or make him worse)) (Yes, this is a callout post for all of us, me included). It would take a while for the both of you to finally realize that your goals are what is harming the relationship from going further, and it takes a while to overcome that boundary. But once you guys do, it’s much easier to work together.

If your relationship is in the real world, he’d probably get annoyed with you more often than not during the beginning. Nothing that would make him lose it, but enough that he’d need to take a moment to readjust. Picture him dealing with Mario’s antics in the gameshow episode without going crazy, as well as him talking to Boopkins during the Price is Right Segment.

Bottom.

He’ll let you kiss his screen but the moment you aren’t looking he’s wiping that shit off. Not because he doesn’t like it, in fact he loves how much you wanna kiss him and give him attention, but it’s a ocd/texture thing; he can’t handle feeling dirty in any way.

When he blushes, it’s like screen-burn (when a static/unmoving image burns into the screen for long periods of time). If he’s blushed in the past 30 mins, you can still slightly see it up close.

His love languages is gift giving and acts of service. He also loves literally everything except gift because you’d be the greatest gift (plus he’s personally not a material-wealth kinda guy. Leave the gift-giving to him).

Doesn’t have a type/isn’t picky. Anyone who’s willing to give him attention, he’ll love.

He hasn’t genuinely laughed at something in years. He’s seen all the comedy shows and knows all the tropes so much that nothing gets to him anymore. You might make him chuckle or smirk but his goal is to make you smile and laugh. If you do laugh at his jokes, it warms his heart a lot. However, he can tell if a laugh is forced/fake, and will call you out on it if he’s not in a good mood.

Whether you like it or not, you pretty much can’t leave him alone once the two of you are official. If he needs some kind of comfort, he’s latching onto you. If you’re far away, he’ll either make the journey to see you or will call you every ten minutes

Hates modern phones and can’t text for shit. The gloves DO NOT help at all. He’ll just call you if he wants to talk to you, but the two of you are usually together so there’s no need.

Literally just unhindged Fluttercord.

A Two-for-one deal: a partner and a white noise machine lol.

Tastes like battery acid. I will not elaborate further.

His memories are like recordings that he can display on his screen, but he rarely does. If he falls asleep and dreams about memories of you, he might display them like that one scene of Pearl sleeping in Steven Universe.

Loves coordinating and matching outfits, but he’ll literally wear the same thing so he likes it when you coordinate with him, really.

Fr tho he is totally a bottom, but he’s overall more of a switch. If he has control over the situation, he’ll make sure everything goes flawlessly. However, if you make him go off-script and cause him to fumble, you can easily take over.

Now these ones are specifically horror movie/show based from a request last post!

He’s okay with slasher movies, but hates the amount of unnecessary stuff like the swearing and sex. All cheep tactics to the the audience interested.

Hates phycological horror. Respects it, but hates it. Partially because he’s in minor denial of what he puts his actors through (he knows and accepts that’s he’s brainwashing people and controlling them, but he often justifies if for his sake).

Likes watching some horror movies because a lot of actors started with horror and got bigger because of it.

Truthfully, he’s a little traumatized from horror movies after staying up late one night to watch night television and adult shows as a kid. When a horror movie started playing, he forced himself to watch the whole thing and had nightmares about it months after. He overall tries to avoid horror.

If you guys are in a relationship and you wanna watch a horror movie, he’ll be hesitant. As you set it up, he’d also try to switch the movie and distract you, which fails. “Well, I mean, if you insist. Oh- but how about this other movie! It’s excellent, and the bonus features are so interesting!”

If you call him out for it, he’d apologies and admit he’s not a fan of horror. You could totally tease him, saying that “there’s no such thing as monster” and that you’re there to protect him if something goes bump in the night, and he’ll get offended and would watch the movie JUST to prove that he isn’t afraid.

He’d be shaking by the 30 min mark, over-dramatically reacting to everything. This could be for 1 of 2 things:

1. He’s genuinely terrified and the suspense is killing him. He’s curled up on the couch with his manic smile waiting for SOMETHING to happen, but nothing’s happening yet, so why’s THE MUSIC GETTING LOUDER?!?!?! You could scare him with a poke or a loud noise, which would cause him to basically skyrocket to the ceiling in fear, or you could gently take his hand and cuddle with him, which he’d immediately grab onto you and squeeze you the entire movie.

2. The acting is horrible and nothing makes sense. If the fear isn’t good enough to captivate him, he’s sprawled out on the couch and complaining the whole time. It’s almost funny how passionate he is about it, if not for the fact that you just wanna watch a movie. You could shush him, but he’ll just go back to talking in the next 5 minutes.

As for the theatre, you kinda can’t take him regardless of what’s playing, mainly because of his screen. He can’t dim it, and he’s already a beacon of light in dim rooms, so the theatre is a no go. He doesn’t mind, as he obviously prefer television. However, if you’re willing to drive and watch them, he’s fine with drive-in theatres. They remind him of his childhood, and it give him a reason to cuddle with you.

Only major downside of a drive-in is all the bugs sticking to his screen in the night, which he’d freak out about. He’d drench himself with so much bug repellent that he’d stink of chemicals.

Here’s a bunch of relationship hcs! Tried to make them mostly interchangeable between romantic and platonic relationships. I’ll continue to cook up more headcanons but I may or may not be working on a fic of my own, inspired by all the amazing writing I’ve been reading from the fandom. Til then, I’ll continue posting here! Questions/comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and have a great day!

[ellieswifie]

matt sturniolo sfw alphabet headcannons

𐙚 head cannons!

authors note: heyy i hope you all enjoy this abc sfw matt headcannon. this is based off this request from @iammattswife. im excited to make a chris sfw too if anyone wants one! thank you for reading enjoy!!!

a- affectionate (how affectionate are they? how do they show this affection?)

knowing already how much matt cares for his family, i swear he’d be so affectionate. he’d just simply do little things like send you cute messages in the morning, or tell you have beautiful and amazing you are, just to remind you that he does care and love you.

b- babies (do they want a family with you? how good around kids are they)

yes! matt would absolutely be an incredible dad. he just seems like he’d be so gentle and loving if you were pregnant with his kids ugh. he also wouldn’t rush the thought of wanting kids with you if you guys were married. he’d sure bring the idea up every once in awhile, but he’s not too pushy about the entire thing. bro if his kids got his blue eyes, i’d be dead.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how often do they want to cuddle?)

matt would love cuddling. he’d want to cuddle during movies, just laying in bed together, after filming, or even just during a random afternoon. he’s definitely a little spoon, or big spoon when he knows you need to be held, but he’s totally a big teddy bear.

d- dance (do they like to dance with you? are they good at dancing?)

matt is the best dancer. justin’s words, not mine. if you guys are sharing airpods, or have music playing off each others phone or speaker, matt would just love to dance around with you. maybe it’s in his room, or the kitchen, or even in the parking lot after a kate drive. he’s always dancing and is willing to dance with you whenever.

e- effort (how much effort and energy do they put into your relationship? like dates, gift giving, anniversaries, bdays, etc.)

matthew sturniolo puts so much effort into your relationship. he’s making sure you feel love me and comfort all the time, and he spends hours planing dates. okay maybe not hours, but he spends a lot of time thinking on what makes a good date a good date. he doesn’t seem like someone who’d plan big parties or huge dinners, so when it comes to birthday presents or anniversary gifts, he tries to keep it low key and simple, but so meaningful. which i find so sweet.

f- fights (how do they handle fights?)

if you have any short of attitude or a tone towards matt, he’ll probably give you space. he has his mattitudie moments too, and doesn’t necessarily want to anger you more by trying to reason with you, but if something is really bothering you, he’ll definitely just want to talk to you.

if you guys had gotten in a argument about something together, the story would be a little different i feel like. he’d definitely not want to stay up all not pickering about something in, so he’d sleep it off, then immediately talk to you about it in the morning, reasoning with you. matt is so gentle and genuinely looks like he cares, even when he disagrees.

g- gratitude (how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what you/significant other is doing bc for them?)

oh matt tells you he’s so grateful for you everyday. he makes sure your more than aware throughout the day, even if you aren’t exactly with him.

h- hand holding (when/how often do they like to hold hands?)

now we know what matt isn’t super on pda, but if you guys are in public together, he’s always holding your hand. in his pocket, at his side, behind your back, it’s always shuttle but comfortable.

i- insight (how easily can they read you? mood, feelings, tone, etc.)

i feel like matt reads body language easily. so if your like sloppy with your words or talking less, he’d probably ask if your okay because he reads these things.

j- jealousy (do they get jealous? if so, how easily? how do they deal with it?)

i feel like jealousy isn’t a issue in your relationship. matt isn’t like a pussy boyfriend who wines and cry’s when a guy looks at you. he definitely would trust you aren’t that type, and he trusts himself in not cheating. if he does get a rush jealousy of some sort, it’s probably because of some fool.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss you? where do they liked to be kissed?)

probably amazing. he’ll definitely love forehead kisses and innocent neck kisses. maybe some on your hand or cheeks.

l- love language (what is their love language?)

PHYSICAL TOUCH!!! matt is definitely the type of boyfriend to be touching you all the time. in the car, his hand placed on your knee or thigh. in public, your holding hands. during dinner, his foot is creasing yours under the table. he’s just naturally a physical touch boyfriend.

he’s definitely words of affirmation too.

m- mornings (how are mornings with them?)

lazy, but absolutely perfect. matt seems like he’d wake up early, but i feel like if it’s just you too laying in bed, you guys are laying in bed all morning. just holding each other and talking about cheesy things that need to get off your chest,

n- nicknames (what pet names/nicknames does he move to call you?)

oh matt’s calling you practically everything. babe, baby, beautiful, love, pretty, princess, your name ofc, etc. now he for sure mentioned bubba wubba isn’t on the table, but we know matt he’s lying.

o- open (how open to their feelings are they to you? when did they say they i love you? do they mention everything all at once, or wait to reveal things slowly?)

it would take matt awhile to completely come to his senses that he has someone to talk to. yes he’d be very straight forward how he feels, but it wouldn’t take him immediately realize and say it, he’d for sure need time to open up, but when he does he tells you everything.

p- patience (how patient are they with you? how easily angry do they get?)

matt would be so patience with you. if your having trouble getting something off your chest, he’s holding your hands assuring you

q- quality time (what do they do with quality time with you?)

most likely matt’s cuddling with you in his free time, or doing something crafty. like coloring or building legos, i’ve just got a cheesy feeling he’d do that.

r- rhythm (what songs/song reminds you of them?)

omg if you like taylor swift, you remind him of almost every single song. i know he mentioned taylor swift before, but like i have a feeling he’d just listen to a song you like from her on repeat because it reminds him of you.

if you don’t like taylor which is fine, you probably remind him of a frank ocean song (definitely godspeed or ivy), miguel song ((ALL I WANT IS YOU) love this song omg), or practically any mac miller song.

s- security (how protective are they when of you?)

he’s definitely more protective of you than you are of him. the sturniolo fandom is all over the place and he doesn’t really want his relationship interacting with weird and disrespectful fans. so he’ll try to distance you from car videos and on tour. when you are in a video it’s probably only for a few minutes in a vlog or a short mention.

t- tough guy (how tough are they around you?)

as chris likes to say matt is the tough guy, but when he’s with his s/o i know for a fact his tough guy shell breaks. he’s more like a little baby wanting love and comfort, then a big intense guy.

u- upset (how do they act when their upset/tired? what helps them feel better?)

we’ve all seen matt’s attitude. he can be mean, but he’s not the big bad wolf. he’ll definitely distance himself from you so he’s not getting angry at you for something he did, or even cranky with you. i think

v- vanity (do they care about how much makeup you wear or not? do they constantly care about what you wear?)

matt probably loves when you dress up and will constantly tell you how beautiful you look, but he won’t expect it out of you every day nor does he care what you wear. he wants you to dress comfortable while feeling yourself.

w- wildcard (a random head cannon for character)

weirdo head cannon but head scratches. i’ve got a gut feeling that matthew would absolutely love his girlfriend scratching his head through his hair with her nails. the two of you will be laying on the couch or his bed, him sitting in between your legs while you watch something off his phone and scratch his head. it’ll for sure probably be a stress reliever for him.

x- explicit (nsfw headcannon)

idk.. do you guys want one?

y- yearn (what do they do when they miss you?)

always texting and calling you. he’d probably send silly snap chat vlogs, or gifs to let you know he misses you and can’t wait to talk to you in person again. he also definitely calls you before bed too to wish you good night and to remind you he loves you.

z- zen (what makes them feel comfortable and calm?)

you. and your presence.

[juuuulez]

Negan x Virgin wife reader smut??? Questionable age gap if ur comfortable no pressure though

info: absolutely FILTHY, age gap (reader is 18 when they have sex, negan is like mid 40s), alcohol consumption, negan calls himself daddy, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, probably more but i can’t even think rn.

summary: Negan’s always taken care of you, only now, you want him in a different way.

omg this took soooo long to write and is also absolutely huge 😭😭 it’s also just pure filth but totally is everything i’ve ever wanted

You were 16 when you arrived at the Sanctuary.

Though, you never really did anything. Negan didn’t even know if you knew how to fire a gun, but he didn’t mind. Your little fingers probably were too soft, they’d shake upon just nearing one, afraid of blemishing your perfect nails.

Your father was a loyal soldier of his, always carried out orders to a T. Therefore, Negan believed that your debt was paid, and didn’t feel the need to make you pull your weight, like most others.

After meetings, when everybody was dismissed, those big wooden doors would open to you standing there, waiting for your father with a sweet smile on your face. He’d place his hand on your back, kiss you on the head, walk you out.

It made Negan think that maybe, just maybe, there was good left in the world. That good was you.

Sometimes a mission would go haywire. Radio connections lost, a truck missing, hijacked. When this happened, you’d always wind up at the door to Negan’s office, timid little knocks garnering his attention. You’d ask, visibly upset, if your father would be okay, if he had any news on when he’d be back.

And Negan would always assure you it was fine, that you’d best get to bed. Morning would come, your father would return, and your world would be complete again. Each time, you’d sniffle, flashing him that sweet little smile before bidding him goodnight.

You were 17 when your father died.

It was a seemingly random attack on an outpost, though Negan knew otherwise. 20-odd men were killed, including your father. When he’d shared the news, you weeped and cried for what felt like hours.

Despite the million tasks to be completed, justice to be avenged, Negan had set that aside to comfort you. Sit down with you, ease your worries, promise that he’d make things right. That whoever did this would pay, he would get your revenge. Even though the tears didn’t stop, and you practically didn’t move from your bed for days afterwards, you’d still managed the effort to give Negan a smile.

You were trying, so, so hard.

But things changed after that.

Well, you changed.

A year went by, and you got harder. Learnt to live on without the guidance of your father, though the struggle was still evident. You were lost, like a little lamb.

Some of the older girls took you under their wing, teaching you the necessities of life in this world. How to make a knife, how to escape rope binding, how to please a man. All the things your father had sheltered you from, made sure you wouldn’t need to worry about.

Though you appreciated their help, it wasn’t the same. Women were too… understanding. They were soft, gentle with you, but it came from a place where they saw a version of themselves in you. No, you wanted something masculine. That protective hand on your back, the feeling of a beard scratching your cheek when he left you sweet little kisses.

You were 18 when you found this again.

Albeit, in a different way.

The war was progressing, however slowly, and tensions were high. Infighting was getting more and more common, Rick was getting on Negan’s last nerve, and his wives were starting to tick him off.

It was another late night, chain-smoking and trying to brainstorm any sort of play against the Alexandria group. Just something to gain some leverage, as he could feel the power slipping from his fingers, whilst they were only getting more and more rebellious.

Just last week, they’d attacked the Sanctuary, where Negan realised that he needed to put an end to this.

There’s that slight knocking at his door, the quiet tap tap tap. He doesn’t need to see to know who it is, nor does he need to answer for you to enter.

You push past the doors, feet clothed in white cotton socks. The type with pink bows on them, on either side. It makes your footsteps silent, padding across the wooden floorboards until you’re standing in front of Negan’s desk.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

It’s become a rather common phrase, though Negan had thought that you were getting better. The attack must have set you off again, put you on edge, anxious. It makes sense, as you weren’t exactly accustomed to the gunfire and shouting.

“You try counting, doll?” Negan asks, watching you over the rim of his glass, letting the smooth whiskey slide down his throat. His eyes wandered downwards, taking in your silk nightdress, falling just to the top of your thighs.

Tantalisingly small, you needed a new one.

This past year, after your 18th birthday, you’d become dangerous. Confident. Each day your shorts seemed to get shorter, the straps on your tanks skinnier. You pushed the limit, that sickly sweet smile transforming into something alluring and tempting whenever you gazed at the younger soldiers.

It was like a ticking time bomb, and without your daddy to guide you, Negan knew you were moments from acting out.

“Mhm. Doesn’t work,” You shrug, eyes downcast upon the wooden desk, like you’re searching the dark grain for some sort of answer to all your problems, “Why count when I can come see you?”

This causes Negan to chuckle, that deep sound that rumbles from his chest, causing you to look back up at him. He sets the glass down, a soft clink as it collides with the table. “Because sometimes I’ll be busy. Ya gotta learn to handle yourself.”

Wrong choice of words.

Negan knew that, because there was this little flicker in your eyes, like a light that had switched on.

Of course you could handle yourself, that’s what you’ve been doing this past year.

You knew what you wanted, and were willing to hunt it down, like prey. All those hushed conversations with the older women, reading all those magazines, you knew what you were doing. Or, you thought you knew what you were doing.

Negan could see this, which is why indulging in these thoughts with you was a dangerous game. He was only a man, after all, and you just looked so good in that little silk dress, the spaghetti straps almost hanging off your soft shoulders. It was like a temptation from the devil himself, the ultimate forbidden fruit.

“C’mere, princess.” He calls out, internally cursing himself for being so fucking stupid, but nonetheless leaning back slightly in his chair.

He was going to hell.

But luckily, sinning was a two player game.

You accepted the invitation, slinking over to him, knuckles just brushing the wooden desk as you pass. Without instruction, you situate yourself between Negan’s slightly parted legs, your ass making contact as you sat on his thigh, rough denim creating friction against your soft skin.

His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer, where you allowed your head to fall against his chest. It was comforting, and Negan smelt like smoke and leather, something to unfamiliarly masculine but you loved it. You wanted to smell it forever, feel him forever.

“Why haven’t you asked me to be a wife?”

This causes Negan to furrow his brows, tilting his head to look down at you. In turn, you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. The position makes him feel powerful, like you’re tiny in his hands, something he could direct with ease. He quickly banished the thought away, not wanting to corrupt your innocence.

“Because you’re too young, doll.”

“But I know things,” You assert as soon as Negan has given his excuse, desperate to make him understand, “From.. from asking people, from reading magazines. I know what to do.”

Negan’s eyes flicker across your face, taking in the cute little pout on his lips. Reading? It suddenly dawns on him that you’re more inexperienced than you let on. All those flirty remarks, seductive stares directed at his soldiers, hadn’t proved fruitful.

You were a virgin.

Now, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but God. Negan’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, keeping you pressed firmly against him, to which you lifted your head from his chest. One hand raised higher, gently brushing the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The other shifted downwards, snaking his long fingers just under your soft asscheek, peaking from that silky nightgown that bunched above your thighs.

As much as Negan had resented the idea of tarnished your innocence… now it just seemed all the more alluring. Being your first, being the only one you’ll ever taste. Making you his.

“You ever drank whiskey, baby?” He finds himself asking, voice just as smooth and fiery as the alcohol in question.

Your head tilts, eyes owlish and curious as you shake your head no. Negan leans forward in the chair, keeping you close to his chest, and scoops up the previously abandoned glass.

Auburn liquid sloshes slightly with the movement, and Negan takes a moment to adjust you in his lap, manoeuvring your body with ease. He presses his thumb against your plush bottom lip, the slight pressure causing you to open your mouth around him, where he is able to replace the digit with the rim of the glass.

His hand shifts to your jaw, holding you with a firm grip and tilting your head backwards, tipping some of the whiskey into your awaiting mouth. It passes your tongue, gliding down your throat until he pulls the glass back, allowing you just a taste.

Your nose scrunches at the harsh burn, not accustomed to it, before letting your tongue dart out to lick your lips.

“It’s warm.” You mumble, voice still quiet and delicate despite the actions you were partaking in, “Like… in my chest.”

“Yeah? Feelin’ it here?” Negan asks, a smirk beginning to play at his lips in response to your pure innocence. His hand slides up your body, brushing along smooth silk, until it comes to rest just in the channel between your plump breasts. He applies a slight pressure, a firm hand that sits over your heart, where he can feel it increase in tempo.

At this, you smile, pink lips curving upwards while you lean in a little, head tilting up to look at him. Negan feels inclined to mimic the motion, allowing you closer until he can feel your soft breaths against his mouth, lips slightly parted in anticipation.

His eyes flicker down, weighting the severity of these temptations, before meeting your gaze again. “If you wanna do this, baby-girl, then there is no going back,” He advises, voice lowered to match the tension of the situation, “I am going to tear you apart.”

A mixture of anticipation and fear floods your stomach, butterflies tingling and reaching areas that you’d forbidden yourself from touching. Only the slightest motion is required until your lips are touching, pressing against his, causing you to shift closer on your lap.

Negan takes note of your pure eagerness, licking into his mouth with no hesitation, letting your tongues intertwine like you’re trying to taste every inch of his mouth. You’re drunk off the feeling, how he tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you can feel his stubble irritating the skin around your mouth but it feels so inexplicably good.

You’re ravenous, fulfilling that deep yearning that’s directed your every movement for the past year. But Negan wants to take it slow, pull you apart, help you understand everything that he’s capable of doing to your body.

So he wraps a hand in your soft hair, balling it around his fist and holding the back of your head in place. A desperate whine leaves you when he pulls his face away, a grin quickly spreading upon seeing your dissatisfied pout.

“Not so fast, baby.” He hums, before diving in once more, directing the pace of the kiss himself.

Whenever you get too eager, trying to take control, Negan will pull away again, letting you gasp and whine and beg him to kiss you again. It’s utterly pathetic, you’ve barely even started and it’s already apparent just how much control Negan has over you, a notion that makes him feel completely elated and also extremely aroused.

It feels like an eternity, with you seated in his lap, leisurely making out and learning exactly what makes you tick. Negan finally lets go of your hair, giving appreciative pets through the silky locks and then down your back, before two large hands are hooking underneath your ass and pulling you upwards.

The sudden movement causes you to gasp, arms quickly gripping onto Negan to steady yourself, but he’s strong enough to manhandle you onto the desk. That white nightgown bunches at your hips, and Negan pushes it upwards to your waist, letting out a low whistle at the sight of your little white lace panties.

“Look at you, princess.” He grumbles, pushing your thighs apart on the desk to get a proper look. There’s a wet stain right over your core, and Negan shamelessly presses his fingers against the thin fabric. The contact makes you squirm, bracing your hands behind you on the wooden desk.

He brings himself closer by pushing the chair forward, whilst simultaneously gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him. Closing the gap, Negan presses his nose against your clothed cunt, letting his tongue dart out to further soil the sticky fabric. The lewd act causes you to gasp, nails scratching against the surface and legs shaking, clamping around his head.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby-girl. This pussy was just made for me.” Negan groans, inhaling your intoxicating scent mixed with the slightly salty taste on his tongue. It took everything in him not to completely brutalise your poor cunt, though he knew it would be sopping by the time he was finished.

Two large, rough hands skate up your thighs, fingers slipping into the dainty handles of your panties. Negan pulls the straps down, letting the fabric fall from your hips and down your legs. Instead of discarding the item onto the floor, or setting it aside, Negan slips them into a nearby drawer. You clock the action, and it makes your face flush bright red.

Negan takes a moment to admire the sight of your bare skin, his hands tracing loving circles into your thighs. “Fuck, can’t believe this is all for me.” He groans, before finally, finally, bringing his mouth close enough to make contact your with your heat.

He licks a long line from your dripping hole, to your clit. Tongue flattened, feeling every ridge of your pussy. The sensation is completely new, leaving you to gasp over him, palms splayed out against the wooden desk. It’s tempting to squeeze his head in your thighs, to completely crumble, but you keep them open and spread.

The effort must be visible, because Negan tilts his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss against your skin. “Bein’ such a good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. Let go for me.”

Each word of encouragement is rumbled into the meat of your thighs, and eventually, back into your waiting cunt. It’s overwhelming, in the best way possible, and Negan takes the time to talk you through the pleasure, albeit muffled by how devotedly he’s eating you out.

You squirm against the desk, little pants and surprised cries leaving your mouth, struggling to adjust to the sensation of Negan’s lips suctioning over your clit, creating a steady motion that causes a whole other wave of pleasure to wash over your shoulders.

But then, he’s pressing a single, thick digit against your hole. There’s a slight resistance, but Negan takes his time, circling his finger around the silky cavern until it finally gives, sucking his finger inside. All of this, whilst he continues his assault on your pussy, licking into it shamelessly in a pattern he’s learnt will give you the most pleasure.

“Fuck, it’s.. I-I dunno if I can take it.” You mumble when Negan perseveres, pushing another finger into your warm cunt. It’s a tight fit, but he’s willing to make it work. Determined.

“Oh, baby. You will be taking a lot more than this.”

It fills you with a sense of fear, an anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach, like you’ve swallowed a rock. Until Negan pushes his fingers upwards a little, and you practically jump from the desk, a ragged moan leaving your throat. He continues to press against the fleshy spot, meanwhile suctioning his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You gasp and cry, little tears filling your eyes as you drop backwards. One arm supports you on the desk, the other moving so that you can grip onto Negan’s short, dark hair. Your nails scratch as his scalp, but he doesn’t care, because it’s only a sign of how much pleasure he’s bringing you.

It sounds like you’re trying to say something through the distraught moans, but the words carry no meaning, practically unintelligible. It’s like your bones have turned to jelly, this new feeling arising in your stomach, something you haven’t felt before.

It feels like pressure, an intense pressure. It builds and builds, and you know that it’ll snap soon, but you can’t find your words in order to warn Negan. Yet, he already knows, of course he knows. By the end of this, he’ll understand your body better than you do. Maybe he already does.

Because when it snaps, your orgasm finally reaching its peak, Negan only quickens the pace of his fingers and tongue. His other hand is now on your lower stomach, leaving soft pets against the skin, gently trying to bring you down from everything.

Now, Negan would love nothing more than to keep going, to devour your sopping pussy until you’re crying tears of pain, begging him to relent. One day, he’ll have you like that. Not now, not while you’re still adjusting to everything that he’s possible of giving you.

The hand previously positioned in his hair falls down to his shoulder, where Negan finally brings his face up from your pussy, leaning in closer to you. His beard is shiny with your slick, fingers similarly coated in it, and there are red marks from where his stubble had irritated your sensitive thighs.

You look a mess.

Panting, teary eyed. Face all red and flushed, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to speak, but Negan is quick to cover it with his own, capturing you in a deep kiss.

It’s messy, passionate, though you’re really worn out. Yet, you show him your appreciation, licking feverishly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Then you’re leaning forward, pushing yourself back into a sitting position on the desk, arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders.

When you break apart, he nudges your cheek with his nose, moving to press kisses against your skin. “How ‘bout I get you into bed, huh?”

You push away from him, shaking your head. There’s a look of confusion on your face, a small pour forming against your lips. “No, no, not yet. We can keep going.” You protest, looking up at him with the most precious, hurt little eyes.

Negan moves his hand up, capturing your face in his grasp, holding you still. His thumb rubs at your plump bottom lip, still wet with his spit, all bitten and red.

“You really want this?” He asks, “Because ‘s gonna hurt, baby. It’ll feel good, but it’ll hurt first.”

You only nod, separating yourself from his hold, to lie back against the wooden desk. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and cold against the naked skin of your thighs, but you prop your feet up against the wood in order to present yourself to him.

It’s lewd, a temptation, you’re trying to lure him in. And it works. Of course it does. Negan can’t deny you any longer, not with that sweet smile, beautiful little face. He wants nothing more than to know that you’re his, and only his.

“Beautiful girl.” He rumbles, splaying a hand over your stomach, running it up over the curve of your breasts. The silk nightgown is pushed upwards, until it’s pooled around your neck. Negan leans down, helping you to sit up a little, so that he can remove the nightgown completely.

Now, you lay bare on his desk, causing him to whistle at the sight. There’s already a damp spot near the edge, where your pussy had stained the wood, a mixture of slick and Negan’s spit. There was another pool forming, where your legs now lay spread at the end, awaiting the blessed moment you’d been dreaming about.

Negan is careful about it, sticks his fingers back into your sopping hole, making sure it’s maintained it’s previous elasticity. It practically sucks him in, and to prove your point, you squeeze your muscles around his fingers.

“Okay, baby. Don’t get impatient on me.” He coos, one hand remaining on your thigh, whilst the other works at removing his pants.

They drop to the floor with a heavy noise, to which he doesn’t bother to fully move them, letting the denim slump around his boots. You prop yourself up a little, looking down the length of your body to where Negan finally reveals his cock.

It’s thick, much thicker than his fingers. How is that even supposed to fit in there? It’s wide around the base and tip, long and curved upwards, towards his stomach. Subconsciously, your legs close a little, but Negan keeps his grip firm as he presses your thighs against the desk.

“You still wanna do this, baby?” He asks, despite his greater instinct to just claim what’s in front of him. Admittedly, it’s been a little difficult to hold off this long.

If you were anyone else, the act would be long done by now. But this was different. You were different. He still wanted to take care of you, like you were a helpless little girl, except you weren’t. This was your plan, after all. Like a lioness, you’d hunted him down, and there no way you were going home without your reward.

A smile spreads on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes, “Yes, please.”

It’s said in that same sweet tone, as if you’re not actually begging for his cock, but another bedtime story. Like you aren’t naked on his desk, pussy dripping down onto the wood, completely spread out like a lavish meal.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, pulling your legs so that they dangle over either of his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. At this angle, he can already feel your heat, so, so close to him.

One hand grips his cock, the other planted across your stomach, a large hand splayed over your skin for comfort. Negan looks down, guiding himself to finally press against your core. There’s a slight resistance, but in no time, he’s length is being sucked into your gooey walls.

There’s a pensive look on your face, which he notices, causing a smile to grow on his own. Your nose twitches slightly, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to adjust to the new feeling. It doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just strange.

But, Negan is only able to get the first few inches in, until there’s a hitch in the process. He leans down, letting you wrap your arms around him, and captures your mouth in a kiss. You give in instantly, preoccupied completely with licking into his mouth, therefore not fully aware of the firm thrust he gives to break through the barrier.

You hiss into his mouth, accidentally biting down onto his lip. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, as he begins pressing kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of bloody marks in his wake.

“Shh, you’re okay,” He soothes, keeping his hips still, not yet pressing any further until the pain has subsided, “Ain’t gonna hurt for much longer.”

The promise proves fruitful, as within a few moments, you’re wiggling a little in his grasp, giving the silent permission to continue. You look down the gap between you, watching as Negan’s cock slowly pushes further in, until your hips are finally flush.

“Breathe, babygirl.” He murmurs, still licking and sucking over your skin. The wet trail continues, until Negan pays attention to your plump breasts, his tongue collecting the beads of sweat that’s built from the exertion.

You claw at his neck, one hand making it’s way into his hair, scratching slightly at his scalp. Then he’s moving, gently pulling out, until just the tip remains. You breathe through the uncomfortable feeling as he pushes back in, a mixture of your slick and a little blood dripping down your ass, only to pool on the wooden desk.

It’s intense, having Negan stretch you open on his cock, the kind of sensation you’d never felt before. You keep watching between you, keen interest in your eye, which he finds adorable. Even as he speeds up a little, the twinge of pain subsiding into a constant flow of pleasure, you’re still fighting to keep your eyes on him.

He readjusts, bringing your legs back down, only to firmly pin your thighs to the desk. In this position, you’re completely spread for him, causing a blush of embarrassment to rise on your cheeks.

It doesn’t last long, as Negan has found the perfect angle to thrust up into you, causing you to raggedly moan and your eyes to squeeze shut. He continues to hammer the same spot, and it feels heavenly, like his cock is actually in your stomach.

You scratch at the wooden desk, gripping for dear life as Negan holds you still, both large hands planted across your thighs. He’s gripping and kneading them, and you hope they’ll be bruised the next day.

But finally being sheathed in your wet heat is it’s own struggle for Negan, as he’s trying to hold off cumming for as long as possible. He’d been rock-hard the entire time you were making out, but this? It was a victory better than war.

So he moves one hand off your thigh, bringing it to your swollen and abused clit. You gasp as he makes contact, tracing firm, tight circles over the muscle that make your eyes roll back, pathetic noises leaving your parted lips.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for daddy.” He praises, leaning down to leave dark marks on the junction of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as Negan continues to fuck into you, hitting that fleshy spot that causes you to cry.

It’s obvious when your orgasm hits you, as your whole body shudders, moans tapered off into high-pitched whines of pleasure. Your gooey walls clench around Negan’s cock, making him groan into your flesh, putting more force behind his thrusts.

Luckily, it’s all he needs to finish, pumping his cum deep into your channel. The overstimulation causes your hips to twitch, legs jolting with the sudden sensation, but Negan tests your limits, shallowly pushing his seed deeper inside you.

Your nails scratch at his neck, eyes pricking with overworked tears, “It’s too much.” You squeak out, voice all raw from all those noises that had been forced from your throat.

“Okay, beautiful,” Negan whispers, pulling himself out of your sensitive cunt, hands gently soothing the bruised skin of your thighs, “But next time, you’ll take it until I say so.”

It’s vaguely threatening, and causes another wave of arousal to ebb through your stomach. However, your mind focuses on one thing, a bashful and pleased smile growing on your tired face.

“Next time?”

It catches Negan off guard slightly, realising what he’d said. That, and you just look so happy, like you’ve finally gotten what you wanted.

“Of course, darlin’. You belong to me.” He assures, savouring the fact that you were so eager to be with him, despite everything.

That night, the nightmares didn’t return. Of course, you didn’t go back to your bed, but instead Negan’s. He took care of you from then on out, it was safe to say you were his new favourite.

[thursdaygxrls]

nsfw headcanons with steve harrington, eddie munson, & jonathan byers

summary — just some nsfw headcanons (i literally just thought them up while going to sleep)

parings — steve harrington x fem!reader ; eddie munson x fem!reader ; jonathan byers x fem!reader

disclaimer — i do not own st or the st boys

warnings — smut. all kinds of smut. if you do not want to read smut, do not read this.

all nsfw under the cut!

steve harrington <3

i have absolutely no doubt in my mind that steve is a pleasure dom. season one steve may’ve had selfish tendencies in bed, but steve is thoroughly in it for your pleasure.

definitely loves giving head. like, loves it. i think he would like a blowjob here and there, but he definitely loves giving more than receiving, especially when you’re riding his face. he’ll cum in his pants from that but let’s move on

steve most definitely prefers to have sex in bed or in his car. maybe at skull rock, but that’s low key pushing it. for him, sex is an intimate thing that is shared between you and him in a place where you are both comfortable.

i also personally think his favorite position is any position where he is able to look at you, so mainly missionary. you on your back, your legs haphazardly wrapped around him while he clutches the headboard. sorry guys j imagining 😍😍

if i didn’t make it clear already, i think that with the right person (aka you), steve would take sex very seriously. it would be a romantic affair. your first time together would be very gentle. no matter how experienced you are, i feel like he would take great care with you.

this might be a good time to mention that he’s pretty vanilla. other than his pleasure dom tendencies, i don’t see him as the kinky type. he’ll most definitely try anything at least once, but he would most likely just want to stick to the good old-fashioned stuff.

i wanna suck his dick so bad. moving on!!

eddie munson <3

let me start with this: eddie is definitely a sub. at most a switch. he may seem like the type of guy to take control, but when all the sarcasm and bad-assery is put away for the day, he’s most definitely moaning ‘yes ma’am 😩’

pillow prince. pillow prince. pillow prince. of course, he’s concerned about your pleasure, but like … he’s horny.

definitely into some light bondage. would probably love it if his wrists were tied to his head posts while you sucked him off. his toes would be CURLEDDD.

he’s a titty sucker. it doesn’t matter how big they are, he wants them in his mouth. hear me out: you ride him while he sucks your tits. he’d love it.

i personally believe he prefers hand jobs over blowjobs. it’s something about the eye contact: your sweet smile as your hand pumps his cock. he’s cumming in 0.4 seconds.

most definitely into fucking in the woods or in his van. i feel like semi-public places are his favorite. he’s a thrill seeker for sure.

tug on his hair he’ll come quicker than you can say vecna

jonathan byers <3

as a disclaimer, all of these headcanons are for season 4 jonathan. he’s a greasy dweeb seasons 1-3, but now he’s a greasy stoner 😍

loves sloppy blowjobs. i can see him absolutely blown (lol) out of his mind, doesn’t know what to do with himself, shaking, toes sweating, fists clenched, knee deep in a wet, sloppy bj. he wouldn’t even be able to warn you before he’s cumming.

i really trying believe that he barely has any experience so anything you two do, paired with that fact that he’s high, is gonna be life changing for him.

loves when you ride him. it’s even better when you’re reverse cowgirl, because then he gets the perfect view of your ass. he loves anything where he has to put in as little effort as possible. that said, he would most definitely do doggy any time you’re not up for a ride.

if you’re not into weed, he’d totally respect that. if you are, though, my darling, you’re gonna be having a lot of high sex.

he’s probably going to want to have sex anywhere that is not his house, which means there is usually a car involved. while i do think he values privacy a lot, he just doesn’t feel comfortable having it at his house. made argyle let him borrow the pizza van to fuck in

honestly, i believe this man loves heated make out seshes and quickies the most. his hands under your shirt and your hands in his hair. a quick blowjob in the car before school.

never thought i’d want to fuck this man but here we are folks

[hornedandwingedangel]

Raphael thoughts

I’ve been analyzing him a lot recently so here are some thoughts I have about my favorite cambion.

SFW

- tbh, I don’t think he’d be that bad in a relationship. He canonically says he cant resist helping you, he likes you. Maybe he almost respects you? In a way. Sure, he’d be toxic sometimes. But he even said he’d “make time for his favorite client”. He cares about you, I think he’d be pretty nice.

- For example, I think he’d buy you nice things. He has expensive taste and he’d want you to look good next to him. And ofc he’d love handing you a beautiful dress or necklace to see a smile on your face.

- he’s actually your biggest supporter. He genuinely wants you to succeed in the things you do. You can see from a conversation with Korilla.

- He reminds me so much of Ursula lol. Flamboyant, manipulative, condescending

- It’d take a while of being in a relationship with him for him to open up, but eventually he’d vent to you about his father and issues between them. I think in general, he’s not super open, but he is quite honest.

- an example of that honesty is that he tells you that the Orphic hammer is a good trade and he writes in his journal that he really believes it is. I think he genuine likes you and wants to help you (but not quite enough to let you get in the way of his plans)

- I don’t think you can “fix” him or calm his ambition down as much as you can with Astarion or Gale. But I think you can calm him down just enough for him to let himself express his human side around you more often.

- hugs! He would be suave and very nonchalant about letting you hug him, but he secretly LOVES holding you in his arms. Feeling you in his grasp. His own little mouse all to himself.

- LOTS of banter. Well, he likes your praise and attention all to himself. But he also likes some arguing. He finds you being opinionated and having stimulating intelectual conversations attractive.

NSFW

- This guy has serious anger issues. It’s not hard to piss him off. I think it’d be a lot of fun to rile him up sometimes. He’s cute when he’s angry. Ofc, this can lead to… “punishment” and such… “activities”

- now about him being a bottom and whatever. Here’s what I think based on other headcannons I’ve heard. 1) he wouldn’t rly bottom for you. he wouldn’t submit to anyone who wasn’t him (or on his level like Haarlep who is in Raphael’s form anyway). 2) he’s “bad” in bed bc he doesn’t have to do any work to be satisfied. Haarlep does all the work and they don’t have a romantic relationship aside from sex so there’s no real reason for him to put in any effort. But you can���t tell me after idk, hundreds of years? of having sex he doesn’t know how to fuck?

- he would never make you do anything you didn’t wanna do. When it comes to how you guys do the devils tango, I think these headcannons are totally up to you. But imo, he’s a dom on the aggressive side with teasing, humiliation, and condescending praise.

If you have any bc questions (ex: would he like ___?) pls comment :) I hope you like these hcs 🫶🏼

[rainba]

ohmigosh wait i have an idea:

So Kairo and Luka, with a darling that is yandere…

for someone else ^u^ so chaotic.

imagine that any efforts that kairo and luka make to get rid of these outliers in their picture perfect fantasy with their darling is blocked FIERCELY by their darling themselves =w=

Their darling, yandere… For someone else!?

To be totally honest, Luka would react to it strangely. There’s a huge part of him that’s kind of angry and jealous, but there’s also a part of him that thinks it’s a little… Thrilling?

Luka's perfect life is being blocked off by you. You’re both his greatest enemy and the center of all his fantasies.

...And that makes you even more enticing to him.

The fact that you’re a yandere must obviously mean you’ve done some fucked up things in the past. So… Luka would absolutely blackmail you. After all, it's the easiest way to catch and hold your attention! With a dark and smug look in his eyes, he’d say something along the lines of, “you should listen to me, if you don't want your ‘love’ to discover what you've done.”

If the blackmail works? He’d practically have a field day. Luka would force you to go out on dates with him, spend time at his house, make you delete all the photos you have of your beloved from your phone, etc. Over time, he’ll slowly attempt to chip away at your love for the other person and will make you obsessed with him instead. ^^;;;;;;

But if none of that is enough, he’ll switch tactics. Now he’ll try to make your beloved into someone completely undesirable.

Luka will destroy the person’s belongings, cut and mess up their hair in their sleep, leave death threats at their door so that they become reclusive and paranoid, etc. Whatever he needs to do, he'll do it.

…And if none of that works, Luka will simply find a way to make your beloved move far, far away. ^^;;;;; If you try to leave too, though, that’s when he’d just resort to kidnapping you. 

For Kairos... He wouldn’t be nearly as thrilled as Luka. The moment he learns that you’re literally obsessed with someone else, he would break down sobbing; hyperventilating as he wonders why it isn’t him that you love instead. Life is, once again, pulling a cruel and twisted joke on him. (ﾉω･､)

But... He would refuse to give up! Kairos’ first reaction would be to start stalking your beloved, on top of stalking you. He takes notes and learns everything about the person you love, studying them day and night. Then he’d start trying to act like them. ^^;;;;

If the person you love is very outgoing and friendly? He’ll act just like that, too! (Although... He wouldn't be very good at it, so that means the act wouldn't last very long.) (╥_╥)

If your beloved dresses in pastel clothes and listens to pop music? S-sure, he’ll, um… He’ll do that too...!

But if all of these things fail to catch your eye, he’ll give up the act entirely and try something else. The idea of doing blackmail crosses his mind every now and then, but he’s not bold enough to try it on you.

He could kidnap you, but the living situation would be… Less than ideal. ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡Having you tied up in his bed 24/7 does sound nice, but he knows you wouldn’t really be happy like that– and he’d also be scared of not having enough money to feed the both of you.

So, what does he end up doing? He’d do everything in his power to make you fall in love with him! Flirting with you, getting you small gifts, texting you a lot, etc. And if you push him away? He’s not above getting down on his knees while crying and begging you to obsess over him instead. (｡•́︿•̀｡)

...Also, murder is always an option, even if it's just a last resort...! If your beloved is dead, then you'll have nobody else to love except Kairos! Right...?