MusesMe

Trying out fanfic - multifandom requests- OPEN - MDNI Main: @writersbloxx (writing tips and tricks) ao3: MellowMuse

[mellowwmuse]

Hii!

I am a writer and this blog is mainly for fics. I am 18 and use she/her pronouns. My main is @writersbloxx where I post writing tips/prompts and other asks.

Here, I'll mostly write drabbles and headcanons (x-reader). I also take requests and will write fluff, smut (no noncon, incest, rape, etc) and angst.

Full fics/series will be on ao3: MellowMuse

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandoms:

Date Everything: I'll try to write for most characters- especially the underrated ones

Marvel/Avengers: I can write for many characters but my favs rn are Bucky and Loki

Spiderverse (adults)

JJK (adults)

[mellowwmuse]

Was Gonna Come Up With a Trash Pun, But All My Ideas Were Garbage

Cam x afab!reader

CW: 18+ kind of gross smut, language A/N: Took a crazy long break 😬 writers block hit hard and winter break demotivated me. The new semester is starting, so I still may be moving a bit slow. Not sure if Cam lovers are still active, but I said this was coming, and here it is :) . Full will be up on AO3 in the (ideally near) future! 1369 words

You couldn’t help but question every decision and event in your life that somehow led you to this point. Hiding out in your house like a hermit, on “labor limbo” after a single day of work, and the personification of your trash can pressing the end of a three-month old cucumber to your pursed lips. What exactly is he planning to do with this? Why is he just keeping it in his pocket? Why are you so turned on?

Cam narrows his eyes, wiggling the spoiled vegetable against your scowl as he shushes you. It's warm and wet. It smells like hell, and for a moment, a voice of better judgement awakens in your head to try and take control of the situation.

On one hand, you worked too hard and dodged too many verbal landmines to fumble this beautiful, smelly, man when you’re this close to glory. You straight up avoided him for days out of fear of your next interaction being the straw to break the camel’s back. You still have whiplash from getting yourself to this point and you can't help but wonder if this ancient - kind of squishy- cucumber is a test of some kind. 

On the other, there’s no way your pH or gut health is staying intact if this cucumber somehow finds a way into your body. You skirt your conflicted eyes over Cam’s hungry gaze, evaluating whether a round of probiotics would be worth a night of fun with your trash.

Before you can formulate something to say, Cam pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in a sharp kiss. He breathes heavy against you, nipping at your bottom lip before slowly running his tongue over the indents. 

“So what’ll it be, hottie?” His words are muffled against your cheek as he presses himself against you. His warm breath and scruffy stubble tickle your skin.

You lean back just enough to capture his gaze again, placing both palms against his chest. As your fingers inch up towards bare skin and wisps of chest hair, Cam begins planting a row of sloppy kisses down the nape of your neck. You bite back a soft moan as his tongue diligently moves over the marks he works into your skin. 

Fuck it. You're not made of stone.

The next few minutes came and went in the blink of an eye. You whispered something in his ear and in an instant, Cam’s teeth were clashing against yours in rushed and heated kisses. He leaned you against the desk and you moved to fully sit so you could wrap your legs around his waist easier. Your shirt came off first. He pushed you further back until you were propping yourself up on your forearms. You didn't even care about the supplies digging into your back because before you could think to move them out the way, Cam’s lips were memorizing every inch of your chest. He circled an arm around your waist to hold you close while he sucked small bruises along your collarbone. His mouth closed around a nipple, licking you through the fabric of your bra while palming your other tit. You shifted your weight onto one arm so you could use the other to grab a fistful of Cam’s hair, knocking his hat to the floor in the process. You could feel yourself getting wetter and arched against him, rutting your clothed cunt further into the tent growing in Cam’s shorts. 

“Fuck, you really can’t wait, huh?” His tone was teasing as he rested his forehead on your shoulder and slowly rolled his hips against yours. His breathing was ragged and heavy in your ear as he worked up a steady pace. The friction managed to be both everything and not enough for your pulsing clit.

You smirked, bucking up your hips with a sudden burst of force, earning you a strained grunt from the grouchy man. “Oh, and you can?” 

You suddenly fell back onto your forearms, as Cam’s hands swiftly moved to wrap around your thighs. He closed in on you with a searing kiss, leaving you breathless while he grinded himself against your crotch as if he was already buried in you. He pushed your lips open with his own, working his tongue into your mouth. You felt streams of spit hanging between you whenever he came up for air. You couldn't tell whether it was his own drool or yours dribbling down your cheek, but the details didn't matter when he leaned further down to lick your face clean. You squirmed under the feeling of his tongue lapping up your face.  

Cam’s hips stalled for a moment. “What, spit too gross for you, Spicy?” His taunting eyes were half lidded as he studied your face.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You mimicked his dry tone while your own hips kept moving under him, struggling to find relief. You wouldn't be surprised to look down and find a wet spot in your pants over the area you needed Cam most.

He chuckled, a brief, low sound. “Good.”

Much to your dismay, Cam took a step back, grabbing your wrist and holding your hand out towards him. He lowered his head a bit, closer to your palm, and let his mouth fall open and relaxed. A slow line of spit journeyed down his tongue to land on your fingertips and dripped to your palm.  

“Cam-” your voice sounded whinier than you meant it to, but he’s shushing you, again, before you can get anything else out.

“Help me out here, yeah?” His smile is crooked as he lazily pushes the waist of his pants down just enough for his length to spring free.

He closed his fist around his shaft, stroking once, twice, before stepping towards you again and grabbing your hand.

“Here you go.” Cam slapped his tip against your slick palm like it was a gift, looking at you expectantly.

You felt him throbbing as you circled your fingers over his tip, beads of pre-cum mixing with his spit. He shuddered as you worked up a steady pace. You went slowly, slightly squeezing him when the side of your hand met his bush and swirling your fingertips over the head when your wrist pulled up. Cam rested his forehead against your shoulder, sucking and biting at your skin to muffle his moans. Your free hand moved back to his hair, tugging and dragging your nails over his scalp in time with the hand that's milking him.

“Fuck yes, just like that.” His voice was languid and quiet as he spoke into the hickeys he was working on. “Don’t stop.”

You weren't planning on it. Cam’s hips jerked harshly against your fist as you picked up speed, your other hand drifting from his head to cup his balls. You rolled them in your palm and across your fingers, kneading them softly for emphasis as you spoke.

“This good enough for you?” You crooned into his ear, never breaking your pace.

 His voice came out broken and choked as he humped your hand, his tip pressing against your stomach as he desperately closed what little distance was left between you. He’s almost gone, his only response is a slew of rushed groans.

“You gonna cum for me already? From this?” you mocked his earlier nonchalance as you leaned back on the desk, just enough for you to lift up your legs and wrap them around his waist.

And that was that. The second you locked your ankles around his back, Cam came undone, his spend coating both your abdomens as his cock was pressed flush between you two. He let out a startled moan, riding out his orgasm with hollow trusts against your sweaty, cum-drenched skin.

“That was a bit fast…” You tried to bite back a smirk as you brushed his greasy hair out of his eyes, drops of cum clinging to the brown locks. 

Cam doesn't seem to find it as funny as you, he fixed his gaze on yours with something challenging in his eyes. Before you could think of something else to say, Cam reached under your thighs and haphazardly scooped you off the desk. 

“Let's go.” 

[mellowwmuse]

Telly Thoughts

Semi-random telly headcanons and ramblings until i can form more coherent thoughts Telly x gn! reader CW: gets kinda suggestive, not proofread

Thinking about Telly's outfit and wondering about the buttons. Namely whether they're functional. Lets imagine they are for a second.

Would he fall asleep if you hit the on/off button on their collar? or would the static on their jumpsuit/hair just go dark?

Imagine he lets you fidget with the buttons on their wrists or the switches/ports around their waist

He's not a fan of volume control but imagine teasing them with the volume buttons, their voice growing louder and softer or even muting altogether

I think of it kind of like how Mac can feel it when you use the keyboard/mouse. Would it feel good for Telly when you use the remote or does it depend on the function?

Imagine them blushing and squirming when you plug them into the socket, or hook up the gaming console or some other hdmi cord. Imagine their breathing growing heavy as you channel surf, spamming the "next" button and the volume button until he's so loud the whole house knows its tv time.

Imagine feeling prickly static when you run your hands over the glowing parts of their jumpsuit, or if you touch their hair.

Imagine walking around the house with them, tugging them by the cords attached to their waist.

When you watch something, does the picture show up on their hair or jumpsuit? imagine on special occasions, he lets you use him as a monitor. he'd relish the idea of you using him to watch something that turns you on.

He's totally into making movies with you. totally.

ugghhhh he's so fine why does no one write fics about telly??????? is it the rhyming???? trust, once I overcome the writers block and push out this cam WIP i'm locking in for a telly fic. I can do it y'all I swear

[mellowwmuse]

PLEASE WRITE MORE ABOUT SKIPS AND MAKE HIM A FREAK!!! PLEASE!!!!

just put another freaky skips drabble here 🥳

sry about the hiatus, y'all. new semester started and i had to lock in (the campus food tried to slime me out)

I'm gonna try to continue the skips series I was doing once I work past this writers block. I also have some cam and daisuke wips I've been neglecting 😬

[mellowwmuse]

hi! I would like to make a request 😇

so skips x afab gn! reader... edibles together and maybe fucking too 🤔 up to you but gosh I just want to bake edibles with this man and get high off our asses

Baking

post realization! skips x afab gn! reader

Summary: short drabble wherein you and skips get distracted trying to bake some edibles CW: smut and mentions of weed, more of skips being freaky, fingering, p in v, #bringbackdryhumping, not proofread

After realizing Skips, he was fascinated with his new body. He wanted to feel all the feels, see all the sights. Especially now that he can enjoy daylight. And who better to help him get acclimated to his newfound flesh and bones than you?

You were eager when he approached you and sheepishly asked if you could bake weed brownies together for your next date. While he loved seeing what the world had to offer beyond the shadows, Skips’ favorite dates were movie nights, walks during the evening, and late night picnics in the park.

And now you're baking edibles. Well, you're trying to. You’re clumsily stirring brownie batter with one arm while feigning an attempt to wrestle Skips’ hand out of your pants with the other. 

As you do your best to measure out the sugar and flour, Skips’ cool fingers fight past your squirming thighs as he shamelessly presses himself against you. He repeats his pattern of shallowly dipping his fingertips between your folds, swiftly bringing them up to his mouth, across his nose, and continuing through his part of the recipe like nothing happened.

“That can't be sanitary” you laugh as he breaks some eggs into a bowl, his lips still wrapped around the fingers of his previously busy hand.

He smacks his lips before flashing a sly smile. “What do you mean, gorgeous?”

He takes a break from licking the spoon behind your back to latch his lips onto your neck, his sloppy kisses leaving a light mixture of spit and batter on your skin. You're beginning to think you two might not make it to the park tonight.

Spoiler alert: you don't. Skips has you pressed against the counter the second the brownies go into the oven.

“We have to do something in the meantime, right Penumbra?” He nuzzles into you in between lazy kisses.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he pushes up your top and laps hungrily at your tits, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue over the skin. There's already a noticeable tent in his pants and he’s rutting into your hips as he curls a finger into the waistband of your pants.

The brownies are only supposed to bake for half an hour, but by the time you notice the oven timer beeping, you can't tell how long it's been.

Skips’ fingers press expertly against that sweet spot deep inside you, his palm flattening against your clit as he idly works his hard-on against the fat of your thigh. He moans softly when you tug on his hair, the rhythm of his fingers hold strong as they pump in and out of you.

“Skips, the brownies!” You gasp in between choked moans before he presses his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

“What about them?” His words are slow and breathy as he whispers against your cheek.

“They’re burning!” you lean into his touch despite the apparent urgency in your tone.

The smell of chocolate and weed floods the kitchen as Skips impatiently tugs at your waistband, you lift your hips from the counter to make it easier. He snakes his fingers through the crotch of your underwear and fervently pulls the fabric to the side.

It's easy to tune out the sound of the smoke alarm as Skips slides his tip over your pulsing slit, precum clinging to your skin. You hiss when he guides himself inside, his hips moving slow as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Skips pulls you closer, bottoming out with a groan as your walls flutter around him. It's going to be a long night. 

[mellowwmuse]

Hello, hope you're well!! I have a headcanon request :]

I was wondering how some of the datables would react to/be with a reader who struggles with depression—especially Betty and Daisuke. You're totally free to include other datables that come to mind as well, and you don't have to do this one if you're not comfortable doing it!

Headcanons!

Betty x gn!Reader Daisuke x gn!Reader

CW: reader struggling with depression AN: this is kind of short but I liked doing this ask!

Daisuke:

While Daisuke is typically busy, he'd go out of his way for you if he saw that you were struggling. He'd take your health seriously- reminding you to eat healthy and often offering help in any way possible. Whether you need a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, or even some help around the house, he will happily be there for you.

He'd share his poetry with you. Taking time to write his feelings down when he thought of you, saw something that reminded him of you, or even something he'd think would make you laugh. Anything to show you that you're on his mind and important to him. He'd also encourage you to write down your own thoughts and feelings, but won't pressure you to share them if you don't want to.

Daisuke would include you in his routine, whether it's giving you little tasks or crafts to keep busy alongside him or letting you sit nearby and watch him work. He'd enjoy having you around him, especially if you two are enjoying comfortable silence.

He'd start his day with you every morning. You'd wake up to the smell of coffee brewing. If you're not into coffee, he'd make sure to have tea or something else waiting for you. If you're in the mood to talk, he's in the mood to listen. He'd ask about your night, any dreams you had, any plans you have for the day, etc.

Betty:

While she loves sleeping in with you, if Betty noticed you bed-rotting or developing unhealthy sleeping habits, she would not let it slide.

The best alarm clock. Waking you up in the morning with soft kisses and an even softer voice. Would love starting the day by asking what you dreamed of. If you didn't have a dream or don't want to talk about it, she'll gladly tell you of hers. She'd make sure to remind you to go to sleep/wake up at healthy hours.

Lots of cuddles. Whether you're in a good mood, bad mood, or don't even know how you feel, Betty is waiting with open arms. When it's time for bed, she takes pride in making things as comfortable as possible for you. She'd hum quiet lullabies as you fell asleep in her arms.

As much as she enjoys cuddling in bed with you, she'd encourage you to get some time out of your bed/bedroom. She'd love to continue having your little dates around the house like slow dancing with you in the living room or getting something to eat in the kitchen. She'd also like trying new things with you like watching one of chairemy's shows together.

[mellowwmuse]

PLEASE write more about obsessive/stalker skips and or respectful/gentle daisuke

please feed freak nation…

Ask and you shall receive!! 🖤 (pretend I'm waving a magic wand around or smth)

Enjoy some fluffy Daisuke love language headcanons posted here and pt 2 to the obsessive Skips fic posted now to my ao3

[mellowwmuse]

Daisuke Headcanons

Daisuke Dishware x Reader Some fluffy pre and post realization love language headcanons for my beloved Daisuke CW: none

Quality Time + Physical Touch

Daisuke is pretty busy so he'd love any type of quality time he can get with you. He appreciates when you offer to help with his duties sorting or taking care of the dishes, but it means so much more to him when you take interest in his hobbies and passions outside of work. Even if he's not as skilled at them.

He'd take you for a cup of coffee at Kopi's shop when he gets a break, and listen to you talk about your day or anything else on your mind. He'd love writing and reading poetry with you. When his work days leave him worn out or stressed, or if he's ever injured with another chip, Daisuke's favorite way to unwind is by laying his head in your lap as you read his favorite poems to him. He'd ask Artt to teach him more about ceramics so he can have a better idea of what to do when making pottery with you. He'll always ask you to tie his hair back so it doesn't stick to the clay, even though he can totally do it himself.

After he's realized, Daisuke will invite you to participate in any class he teaches. When he eventually takes a job as a nude model, he's always excited when you're able to join the class and is always sure you can see his good side. He'll still set aside time to paint or read with you. He'd love to learn more about your own hobbies and interests, whether he's engaging in the activity with you or watching you work. He often takes you to visit museums or open mics.

Daisuke has made work a priority over his personal relationships for a while. That's why he relishes initiating and receiving physical touch from you.

Daisuke's a little touch-starved when you first get together, so he's a real cuddle bug. He loves when you touch his hair, and sometimes when its just the two of you, he'll lay on your chest so you can play with his hair and softly run your fingernails across his scalp. This is a surefire way to lull him to sleep if you've got him like this at the end of his day. Daisuke also loves holding you. He'll cup your face when you kiss and hold your hand when you walk around the house together. He'll take any excuse to scoop you up in his arms, he loves how warm you feel against him. Though it flusters him a little to admit this, Daisuke really enjoys when you help him wash the dishes. He finds your careful, gentle touch on the cups and plates soothing.

Bonus: He'd write you sweet love poems. In the morning you wake up to little free verse or haiku poems written on a note and left by your bed. Daisuke would write about your eyes, your kisses, your smile, or even take inspiration from a memory you two created together.

[mellowwmuse]

Keeping an Ear Out

Skips Shadley x afab reader CW: nsfw, kinda creepy behavior

Summary: Skips is used to navigating the house through darkness, or the sounds that the shadows absorb. It can get lonely, but he finds comfort in his dark world. When you move in, the sound of your voice gives him something new to look forward to during the day. And your voice at night is something else entirely... A/N: this is me expanding on my nasty skips drabble. You can also read this on ao3 where i'll be posting another chapter.

Skips had long grown accustomed to being alone before you received the dateviators. Sure, there were many other objects and concepts in the house, but with Skips being a literal shadow, he was confined to a completely different world than the rest. It didn’t feel much like confinement to him, though. Skips enjoyed the darkness. It was the loneliness that came with it that he could do without. For as long as he could remember, Skips navigated the house by flitting from room to room like a ghost, waiting for the lights to flick off, or the curtains to be drawn shut. He was only able to move freely at night, when the house seemed to shut down. Maybe he’d run into Timothy staying up late to clean his time pieces, or one of the workaholics like Hoove or Holly, though they were usually too busy to talk for long.

In the daylight, he observed what went on in the house using the sounds that traveled through the shadows. Listening to the arguments, games, and conversations that the other objects engaged in during the day was entertaining enough most of the time. At least until Skips would remind himself that he knew more about these objects than they did about him. He missed what it feels like to have someone know you. To have someone want to know you. He remembers being intrigued by you when you first moved in. You were a new face, a new voice. Skips welcomed the sudden change.

Before long, he found that he loves listening to you more than anyone else. He loves how you think out loud, your talks with yourself are somehow structured like an actual conversation. Every now and then, he’ll catch himself talking back to you like you’ll hear him. In a most recent instance, you were getting ready to run some errands.

“Wait, am I forgetting something?” You pat down your pockets and double check everything you have with you.

“Your phone’s still in your room.” Skips idly whispered as he studied your inflections from the shadow of the end table in the hall.

“Ah!” You verbalize your realization as you quickly turn on your heel and rush up the stairs. As if you truly heard him. Skips pretended you did as he listened to the door click shut behind you.

The light doesn't stop him from admiring you. From chasing your voice. Skips is usually sure to find a dark spot in the bathroom, maybe behind the sink or in the cabinet so he doesn't miss the sound of you singing in the shower. He’ll camp out in the slim shadows of the dining or kitchen tables when you play music on Rainey. He relishes listening to what you listen to, trying to figure out why you replay certain songs or skip others.

As expected, he only ever sees you in the dark. He thinks you’re beautiful, and it really isn't easy for one's face to leave an impression in the shadows. Skips will try to steal a glance at you as you get in bed or while you’re struggling to find a light switch in the closets. His favorites are those precious occasions when you roll out of bed in the middle of the night, stumbling to the kitchen for a snack or a drink of water, unable to sleep. In those quiet moments when the other objects have likely already winded down for the night, it's just the two of you in the kitchen. Even if you don't realize that you have company, Skips misses being in comfortable silence with someone else.

The first time it happens, it's late at night and you're upstairs in your room. It hasn't been too long since you moved in, and Skips is awake and lost in thought. He hears something, a soft sound gliding through the silence of the shadows. A gasp. He recognizes your voice after pondering it for a moment, you must be having trouble sleeping again. Last he checked, you were reading a book in the lamp light.

But something's different this time. Your voice and your breathing seem slower, more fragile. He hears you draw in a sharp, shaky breath. Followed by a low groan, the bed sheets rustling beneath you. It doesn't take long for Skips to realize what's happening, and his deep flush left his ears buzzing. He’d never judge you for it, it's only healthy. He still feels ashamed for listening so intently to such a private moment, but how could he not? Your languid moans and hushed sighs were honestly adorable.

He indulges a bit. It just gets to be too much, the delicious gasps and moans tumbling from your lips now paired with faint wet sounds punctuating each stuttering breath. Skips, from the guise of his shadows, listens to you work yourself to completion while imagining it all. He can practically see the sweet faces you make when you hit the right spots and visualize you plunging your fingers through your folds, arching your back against the mattress. He palms his own hard-on through his pants in a rhythm that matches the rise and fall of your moans echoing towards him. Skips whispers your name helplessly as he ruts his clothed, leaky, cock into his fist while fantasizing about what his name would sound like on your pretty lips. He’s thought about that many times before, but not like this.

He lurches forward when you squeal, his chest heaving at the sound. The darkness around him feels warm and soft. Dark, smoky tufts of hair fall over Skips’ eyes as he bites his lip, using his free hand to push his shirt up a bit, seeking relief from the sweat pooling at his core. He grits his teeth together, fighting back his moans and sighs to avoid them drowning out your own. He wont last long like this, his eyes are half shut and he's laying on his back now. The hand that was clutching at his shirt moves to clamp onto the other one at his crotch. Skips throws his head back as he shamelessly humps his shaking fists, and the only thing in his mind is you.

He cums first. His chest shakes as your smooth, sexy, voice works him through the aftershocks. A wet spot seeping through his jeans and soaking his palm. Skips rushes to lower his pants, his wet cock springing free, before wrapping his fingers around himself and rubbing his sensitive tip. He tortures himself as your voice grows louder, your breathing more rapid. He nearly cums all over again when you finally let out one last shattered groan, indicating your climax.

Skips now waits for these moments with bated breath.

Whether day or night, he keeps an ear out for you. He memorizes the rhythm of your breathing and the intensity of your voice; your pleasure is music to his ears. When he touches himself, he imagines your soft hands running over his body, your beautiful voice telling him how good he feels under your palms. Sometimes, he overhears gossip from some objects- mostly those in the bedroom and bathroom- about how you like to tease yourself. Sometimes, he catches himself envying them. He admittedly wonders what you look like coming undone in the daylight. He imagines you writhing in bed or pressed against your shower door. He doesn't watch you though. When you turn off the lights in your bedroom and fumble around yourself in the darkness, it takes an insane amount of will for Skips to refrain from basking in the sight of you. There just seems to be something more special about losing himself in your erotic echoes. Maybe one day, though.

When word travels around the house about the little box that crashed through a window in the front door; the box bringing the dateviators and Skylar, Skips’ heart lurches in his chest. It's a dream come true. His cheeks grow hot at the idea of finally meeting you, of you finding him, or even looking for him and taking the time to step into his life. Into his shadows. He quickly chooses a shadow, the one that the globe typically casts onto the hardwood when the sun peeks through the window in the afternoon. He has it stay still. Skips holds his breath as he decides that this one shadow will be stuck in this spot at all times, at any time of day, just for you. He crosses his fingers and hopes that you will notice. But what is he going to say when you do?

[mellowwmuse]

Shower Thoughts

Johnny Splash x afab Reader CW: nsfw

Summary: Taking a shower with your shower. This has to be the first time you've gotten out the shower feeling dirtier than when you went in. A/N: quick drabble for the Johnny Splash lovers. ended up making a full one shot you can read here on ao3.

You were thirsting for a good shower long before you had wrapped up your workout with Dunk. By the time you waved him goodbye and made your way to the stairs, you were a sweaty, sore mess. You were practically fantasizing about the soap washing away your fatigue.

This wasn't the first time you'd hopped into the shower with the dateviators on. Johnny wasn't always there to spectate, but he'd never say no if you asked. Some days he'd sing to you while handing you the soap, or hold the shower head out the way while you lathered the hard to reach spots.

He was waiting for you this time when you trudged into the bathroom. His smile was eager when he greeted you.

"Looks like you worked up quite a sweat today, sugar." You almost missed the way Johnny's eyes danced over your sweaty form as you undressed. Almost. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He started up the water for you, setting it at the perfect temperature as he held the shower door open. And stepped in after you.

And here you are.

Little drops of water spiral down his dark ringlets as he leans on the wall across from you. There isn't much space between you and you opt to embrace it. You lock eyes with the handsome man before you, stretching an arm towards him as you work the soap over it. He leans closer for a moment before catching himself, the look in his eyes dripping with desperation.

A part of you wants to see how strong he can be. How long you can tease him before he snaps. But Winnifred can't keep the water warm forever. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't just as needy as him right now.

So you throw him a bone.

"You know," you soften your voice as you slowly turn your back towards him. "I really did tire myself out earlier."

"Mmm..." Johnny's response was a distracted hum, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

"Think you could help me out-"

Before you're even done asking, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in fast, your back flush against his chest.

"Why, I thought you'd never ask, darlin'." His words are breathy and impatient as he presses his lips to your temple.

The next few minutes go by like hours as Johnny takes his time generously lathering you with soap. He palms it over your breasts, kisses up your arms and neck while rubbing over your sides. He expertly massages your back and kneels down to squeeze your thighs. He worships every inch of you like he wont ever get to do it again, praising and admiring you the whole way.

"Oh, you are just gorgeous." His words are barely a whisper and slip out in between kisses to your navel.

Now it's time to rinse off.

[mellowwmuse]

Dirty Dishes (pt. 2)

Daisuke Dishware x afab Reader CW: nsfw/explicit content

A/N: a lil sequel to this post doubling as a snippet for the full fic here on ao3

Daisuke moves fast. He may look out of sorts, but his body still carries the same conviction. In a flash you feel his warm breath on your ear and you're fighting the urge to lean into him. His warm palm wraps around the back of your neck. Goosebumps pepper your skin at the sudden contact. You try to turn towards him, to match his touch, but the moment moves too fast for you to claim any control. Daisuke’s touch is firm and bordering on forceful as he marches you over to the sink, his fingers pressing deeper into your skin with a slight squeeze.

He’s behind you now. He’s practically bent you over the sink, his right hand snaking up to the nape of your neck, fingers working into your hair and giving it a tug. He leans in close, his lips pressing into your ear as his whispers tumble from his mouth slow and gravelly. You can feel his smug smirk on your skin. 

“I dont give a fuck if it takes all damn night. You’re going to scrub each and every dish until I can see your beautiful face in them.” His hand is cupping your chin now, his thumb running smoothly past your lips to rest on your jawline. You feel his solid form move closer, his abs and chest draping over your back, an undeniable hard-on pressing your hips further into the cabinets beneath the sink. You try to turn towards him, to feel more of him, but he swiftly moves his hands to your hips to turn you back around and push you into the countertop.

Daisuke’s fingers press hard into your hips, you can already feel tiny bruises blossoming where he held you. His voice is still dark and dripping with irritation, but you can hear his eagerness. 

 “And I am going to teach you a lesson for your negligence.” Before you can ask what exactly he means by that, Daisuke leans further into you to reach towards the counter and grab a dish brush. He pushes it into your palm and turns on the water, making sure it's hot. His free hand drops from your head and winds down the side of your body, skirting over your ribs before settling on the waistband of your pants. “You’ll start with the pans. Do try to focus for once.” 

Your pants are around your ankles in the blink of an eye, and your panties went down with them. Your knees buckle when Daisuke rids you of your bottoms in one fell swoop, the combination of his force and the feeling of your most sensitive area being exposed to the cool air shocking you. 

“I’d get to work, sweetheart.” There's venom behind the charming pet name he so frequently calls you. It sounds foreign on his lips now. “I’m going to fuck you even dumber before you’re through with washing all these. And then I’m going to make you beg while you sort them for inventory.”

Hell, you could get used to dirty Daisuke. 

His promise travels straight to your clit which is already slick and aching for him. It's crazy what this man does to you. You play into it, echoing your own coy (broken) promise from that morning. 

“Sir, yes, sir.” 

This isn't lost on him. “Cute.” He chuckles behind you. “Thats what you’ll be calling me for the rest of the night.”

You try and push your hips back into his, but he steadies you with both hands before delivering a sharp slap to your ass. 

“There’s only one thing you’ll be focusing on. Start. Scrubbing.” 

“Alright…” you pout at his persistence. 

Another slap. You yelp when this one makes contact and your teeth dig into your bottom lip as Daisuke lightly rubs circles over the side of your ass to smooth out the sting.

Oh, right. “Yes, sir.” You correct yourself and give yourself a mental pat on the back when your words are met with an approving hum.

Reaching into the sink, you grab the handle of the largest pan and turn the dish brush in your hand. You're not sure what exactly is sticking to the bottom of the pan, but it looks burnt and stubborn. Just when you start applying some elbow grease, you lurch forward as Daisuke’s smooth fingertips latch onto your clit, giving it a harsh tug before beginning to rub slow circles over the slick mound. He wrenches his left foot in between your own and slides it aside to force your legs open as he works your pulsing clit with precision. You close your eyes and lean into the sensation, and it's gone just as suddenly as it started. Daisuke’s hand retreats and your cunt shivers as the cold kitchen air hits it. 

Two slaps. “We’re gonna be here all night if you can't be good for me.” His fingers squeeze the swell of your ass and he laughs languidly at your gasps. 

You can do this. “Yes, sir.” You breathe desperately as you squeeze some soap onto the pan and begin scraping. 

[mellowwmuse]

Tyrell Headcanons

Tyrell x Reader Here's some pre-realization love language headcannons for Tyrell (Date Everything) cause I don't see enough love for him 🖤 CW: none :)

Quality Time + Acts of Service

Based on some interactions in-game, it's clear that Tyrell wants to feel important to you. He can get pretty jealous of the attention you give to other objects in the bathroom so quality time is definitely huge for him. He wants to feel chosen. He wants to come first.

This will include warm cuddles with you after a shower or bath, long talks/exchanging stories about your lives, and more. He'll teach you how to fold towels into different shapes like his towel buddies, and he'd love figuring out new shapes with you.

He'd also like walking around the house or finding things to do with you in other rooms like getting something to eat in the kitchen or watching a movie in the living room. The more he finds out about you and what you like, the more important he feels . Plus, all the other objects will see you on his arm.

Not only does Tyrell crave precedence with you, but he wants purpose. He wants a good job and he wants to be good at this job. He'll make you and your comfort his priority because of this. Acts of service toward you make him feel important.

He'll keep the towels warm for you while you're in the shower or bath so you're comfortable when you step out of the water and eager to step into his arms.

He's always on standby. Sweaty while working out with Dunk? He's there. Spill something while cooking with Stefan? He's there. Any spills, drips, and other cleanup mishaps around the house won't bother you anymore because Tyrell is there before you even find out about it.

Massages. He'll research different ways to incorporate hot towels, whether dry or wet, in massage therapy for you. No matter how stressful the day was for you, you'll always have something to look forward to before bed. Nothing's better than the feeling of hot towels draped over your feet, rolled up under your neck, or even laid out on your back as Tyrell keenly smooths his warm hands over your skin. It's your favorite part of the day, even though its rare that you two get through a full massage without it turning into something steamier.

[mellowwmuse]

Putting On a Show

Skips Shadley x GN Reader 🖤 CW: nsfw

Summary: You find out that skips likes to watch just as much as he likes to listen. A/N: small drabble for skips. been wanting to write this since that one interaction (iykyk) 😏

Skips, who can't stop thinking of your embarrassed expression and nervous fidgeting after he told you that nearly the whole house could hear your… nightly activities.

Skips, who totally doesn't habitually wait for these moments with bated breath, his chest heaving and his ears growing hotter with every delicious gasp and moan that falls from your lips and reverb off the walls of the house.

Skips, who definitely doesn't try to picture you as he listens to you in the shadows. Who absolutely doesn't desperately palm himself through his pants while imagining you sweaty and flushed with your arousal coating your fingers and thighs. Because even just the sound of you is enough to send him over the edge.

Skips, who does notice that you’ve been coincidentally turning the lights off earlier in the evening some days after the sun has set. Maybe keeping the curtains closed a tad longer in the mornings.

Skips, who can already feel his pants tightening as he locks eyes with you in the dim hallway one evening as you slowly step into your bedroom and flick the lights after you, plunging the room into a familiar darkness.

Skips, whose luminescent flush is the only source of light in your bedroom as he kneels at the edge of your bed, breathlessly thrusting into his fist as he watches you come undone for the first time.

Skips, who studies and relishes every curve and dip of your body as if he’s trying to memorize it. Who is practically overwhelmed by the sound of you expertly working yourself beneath him, the wet slaps of your hands on your skin, your breathy moans and choked sobs, his name falling from your lips over and over. 

Skips, who is not far behind when your climax finally washes over you. Who drenches your dripping fingers and aching core with his release. Who leans in close to rest his forehead on yours, beads of sweat mixing with your own, and praising you for putting on such a good show for him.

Skips, who practically begs you to let him lick you clean. 

should i make a full fic of this?

[mellowwmuse]

Dirty Dishes

Daisuke Dishware x Reader

quick drabble inspired by an idea I saw on here earlier (i forgot where 🙈).

Summary: You promised Daisuke you'd wash the dishes for him... and forgot. Turns out dirty dishes = dirty Daisuke.

A/N: pre-established relationship, slight nsfw towards the end. might make a full fic out of this

Pt 2 with a link to the full (nasty 😛) fic on ao3

You lost track of time. Maybe you were helping out another object around the house, maybe you were preoccupied and put the dateviators on later than you expected. But the sun had already set and your busy day was winding to a close when you finally remembered.

You were supposed to do the dishes.

You practically flew down the stairs, Daisuke’s sweet smile and appreciative tone replaying in your mind as you recalled promising that you would finish washing the dishes for him today, as his work would keep him late. 

You're cursing under your breath as you advance towards the kitchen, making a beeline for the sink. You hope and pray you can get this done before he notices you forgot.

No such luck.

Your steps falter when you find Daisuke waiting for you in the kitchen. Your eyes widen slightly as your nerves are replaced with surprise.

You've never seen him like this.

The kitchen is dark, but his face is just as you imagined; his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed in stern disappointment. His brow is furrowed and his cheeks are flushed.

But his hair is completely down and messy. Loose strands falling over his eyes. It looks tangled and greasy. His arms are crossed but his clothes hang loose and open over his shoulders, exposing a large part of his chest. His heaving chest. He’s sweaty. Or greasy. It was hard to tell. Even in the darkness, however, it looks as though there's food and grime smeared over the soft fabric. He is utterly disheveled.

You glance toward the sink and the dots connect. There are dishes stacked and practically spilling onto the counter. Tupperware with old leftovers, pans with burnt eggs caked on the metal, neglected cutlery and cups drowning in the discolored dishwater.

Your focus is drawn back to Daisuke as he takes a step closer. You swallow meeting his hard gaze. You feel guilty for letting him down, sure, but raking your eyes back and forth over his greasy, slightly exposed form for what was honestly the tenth time since you entered the kitchen did seem to make you feel a bit better about the predicament.

You open your mouth to apologize, to try and muster up some type of excuse, but he beats you to it.

Daisuke's eyes twitched as he tilted his head, his disappointment teetering into borderline disgust as he practically spit his words at you. 

“One fucking job.”

Oh. Oh. It seems it isn’t just his hair and clothes that are so… well.. dirty.

The usual softness in his voice had dissipated. His voice was low and raspy, his tone sharp and hot. You felt goosebumps crawl over your skin and your stomach flipped at his words. 

“Oh Daisuke, I am so so sorry-” You really were. But you'd be lying if you said you hadn't spoken up in hopes he would interrupt you again.

And he does.

He leans in closer. “Look at me.” 

Doesn’t have to tell you twice..

He moves fast. In a flash you feel his warm breath on your ear and you're fighting the urge to lean into him. You feel his warm palm wrap around the back of your neck. His touch is firm and bordering on forceful as he marches you over to the sink, his fingers pressing deeper into your skin in a slight squeeze.

He’s behind you now. He’s practically bent you over the sink, his hand snaking up to the nape of your neck, fingers working into your hair and giving it a tug.

He leans in close, his lips pressing into your ear as his whispers tumble from his mouth slow and gravelly.

“I don't give a fuck if it takes all damn night. You’re going to scrub each and every dish until I can see your beautiful face in them.” His hand is cupping your chin now, his thumb running smoothly past your lips to rest on your jawline. You feel his solid form move closer, his abs and chest draping over your back, an undeniable hard-on pressing your hips further into the cabinets beneath the sink. You try to turn towards him, to feel more of him, but he swiftly moves his hands to your hips to turn you back around and push you into the counter top.

Daisuke’s fingers press hard into your hips, you're now fully expecting to see tiny bruises where had been. You can practically hear his smirk in his voice. “And I am going to teach you a lesson for your negligence.” He hands you the sponge and turns on the water, his free hand hooking under your waistband. “Do try to focus for once.”