#i cannot for the love of Christ get them right

[enhanced-operatives-division]

I've been thinking about the first time Prism got one of her Robots to work the way she wanted after getting kinesium and uh well this was the product of that

[thedevotionaltour]

even for period typical ableism it still drives me nuts for karen to go oh poor matt how can he deal and get around as if he hasn't been blind most of his life at this point and living on his own by himself as an adult for his entire adult life after college and has also lived in the city his whole life like girl use your damn brain he can get around by himself just fine. good god. like take five seconds to use your brain. literally adult man who lives by himself if nothing else that should tell you he is fine and when he needs assistance has the knowledge and ability to go get it you act as if he can't even walk on the sidewalk by himself. he literally shows up to work by himself. it drives me up the wall sometimes how she sees proof of him functioning fine independently literally witnesses it on the daily and still thinks these things. like again foggy isn't great either bc again the period typical ableism (and just general ableism in the world outside of this period as this is a common attitude of viewing disabled people as helpless and unable to function even if they are people who do live independently (and im not touching on people who do need extra support and caretaking in this context. as this post is about these characters in the context of a story. so im talking about what we see there instead of any truly meaningful nuanced way) but the writing here is like. Particularly this way due to the time) he has a modicum more of understanding that matt is literally a capable grown adult man. literally told karen matt is a big boy who can handle himself and then karen went b-b-but you forget he's blind as if foggy hasn't known him for years of his life and is his best friend like PLEASE SEE HIM AS AN ADULT. I AM GOING TO GO INSANE. PLEASE RESPECT HIM IF YOU LOVE HIM SO DEARLY. AND EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T. JUST RESPECT HIM AS A PERSON!!!!!!

[solipseismic]

"the dems are pro-genocide" "harris is just as supportive of genocide as biden" and what. do you think. the republicans think. of american imperialism and genocide? please. do let me know.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[kombuuuu]

Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?

It Sounds Nice coming from You.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader

“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)

People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.

But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.

The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.

You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.

There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.

So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.

—

Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.

Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.

Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.

The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.

The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.

He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.

Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.

Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.

It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.

“She’s silent, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”

“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”

“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”

The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.

“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“

“Cut it, mate.”

He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.

“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”

“No.”

“Mm.”

Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”

“Jesus..”

He felt rather accomplished that day.

—

It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.

Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.

Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.

He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.

immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(

I’m patient 🦑

u werent 2 seconds ago

I don’t subscribe to consistency.

Or this slandering talk

ur consistently lame

also why squid

I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute

hes not real

Don’t do this me

reeeeeal tasty tho

What is wrong with you.

numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)

Inhumane.

mmmmmm yummyyyy

He can’t die, he’s immortal

The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Hobie!”

Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.

He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.

“Pav, my guy!”

Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.

“What’chu doing up there?”

His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.

Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”

Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.

“Textin’ [Name].”

Just then, the next message from you showed.

immortal ??? how consistent of him to live

He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.

He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything

ihu

terrivle joke

No, you don’t

And it was great

wtvr >:P

Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.

“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.

“They do argue very often.”

“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”

Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.

They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.

He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”

Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.

“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”

“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”

“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.

“What does mini-punk even mean!”

“Not exactly, Pavitr.”

Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.

The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.

“Huh?”

“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.

“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”

Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.

Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.

“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.

Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.

“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”

A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.

“Wha’ ‘bout it?”

His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.

“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”

Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.

“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”

The punk quirked a brow.

“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.

“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.

“Exactly, it’s not.”

Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.

“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”

Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.

“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.

“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”

“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”

“Gwen, it’s not like that.”

“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”

“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.

“No— well, not unless—,”

“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.

“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“

They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.

“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.

The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.

—

“You agreed to this?”

lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”

He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.

“Now, you know that’s not tr—“

His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.

“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”

He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean to agree.”

Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”

And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.

You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.

How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.

You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.

And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.

Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?

Because you love him, you guess.

His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.

His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.

“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”

“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”

“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.

—

Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.

“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.

“This—, This asshole!”

“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.

Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”

“Not kicked.”

“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”

Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”

“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”

“Gwendolyne.”

“All of you, stop.”

Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”

“Since when did you have a say—“

“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”

“She’s an adult.”

“When it’s convenient to you.”

Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.

“She doesn’t talk to people.”

“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.

“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”

“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.

“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.

“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops too late, portals open.”

“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.

“Yeah..”

“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”

The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.

—

He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.

You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.

Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.

Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.

“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.

“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.

“I totally called it.”

“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.

“Oh my god, I love this movie!”

“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.

Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.

“The horse.”

“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.

Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”

You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.

He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.

The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.

—

Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.

“You doin’ right, babe?”

“Yeah, Hobes.”

You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”

“We’re in bed, dummy.”

He shot you a playful look.

“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”

You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.

A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.

“Sleep, sweethear’.”

“Mhmmph.”

Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.

No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.

—

BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️

[forsworned]

I just got a great idea. Imagine the teenage dirt bag trend with 141, where reader is chill and laid back, and as 141 and reader are in the break room, gaz or soap ask reader about her life before the military and she just goes to her office to get some photos of her and her friends in their teens, smoking weed and in some she has some sick piercings and a skater, or maybe even a motorcycle. I don't even know. I'm just rambling. You can write it if you want but if you don't want to then feel free to ignore me 🫶🏼🙆🏻‍♀️

author's note: and a great idea you have indeed :) i gotchuuu and im so sorry this took me forever to get to

tags: poly 141 antics, cheeky banter, and a lil flirting with the boys ;)

Breakfast is a fan favorite amongst the 141, especially when it involves the sweet and savory aroma of coffee, pancakes, eggs, and your famous potato hash—a dish that's practically a cult fave within the team. As you settle in your seat between Johnny and Kyle with your coffee mug in your hand, the group is chatting about their former glory days before they joined the military.

Johnny nudges you with a playful smirk, still noshing on a piece of toast. "So, hen, ye look like ye had a bit of a wild streak back in the day, aye? Bet ye were a right wee devil." His tone is teasing, laced with curiosity as his cerulean gaze lingers on you.

You roll your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Kyle chimes in, his tone equally teasing, "Yeah, you look like the type who got up to all sorts of dodgy stuff. Proper troublemaker, I reckon. C'mon love, spill the beans." He nudges with a grin.

Price looks over his newspaper at double trouble across the table, before turning the page, causing you to chuckle. "Well," you fish out your phone from your pocket and everyone leans forward in their seats as you scroll through your camera roll. You stop at an album and tap on it before rotating the screen to face them and they can't help the excited noises that leave their mouths.

"No way!" Johnny exclaims, his grin widens as he spots a photo of you leaning against a cherry red muscle car. "Is that a 1967 Chevrolet Camaro!?" Kyle chirps, taking your phone from you and you laugh at their reactions. That gets Price's attention and he leans over to get a gander of the rebellious glint in your eye and the streaks of red fashioned into your hair.

"Christ," He beams down at the photo and then up at you. "looks like you were quite the rebel, eh? No wonder these two pillocks won't stop botherin' ya."

Kyle lets out a whistle as he swipes to the next photo, showcasing you with a cigarette hanging between your lips, clad in a skimpy bikini, leaning against your palms on a beach on a sunlit beach with the sunset casting a tangerine glow. "Cheeky."

Johnny's eyes ream at the photo, taking you in your exposed form. "Aye, look at ye!" His cheeks flush as he tilts his head, peeking up at you. "I gotta give it ya, lassie, yer quite the stunner."

"And still are." Price adds, raising his eyebrows at you. You fluster at his kind words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you,"

"Oi! Look at this one!" Johnny points to the screen again, having a good laugh. You lean into Kyle and giggle at the photo. Grin as wide as your face with an alligator's jaw clamped shut between your hands. "That cannot be real!"

"It's really not as wild as it looks. I was on vacation in Florida, and a local wildlife park had this little show where they let you hold and pose with a baby alligator. They made sure everything was safe and supervised. Super fun."

Price cocks an amused brow at you, sipping his coffee. "Baby alligator, eh? You're quite the thrill seeker."

"Yeahhh, not much has changed." Kyle ribs and the others laugh. It's true though. You were actively pursuing that adrenaline rush, so it didn't come as much of a surprise to them, especially not Simon.

As the laughter dies down, Simon, who was quietly enjoying his tea and observing the situation unfold finally speaks up, "You lot are gettin' too chuffed over this, but I gotta admit..." He leans back, his dark eyes fixate on you and you can't help but take notice of how his mask is scrunched up under his nose, revealing the pale pink of his lips. "Never quite pegged you for a lil rascal. Bet you gave your folks a right headache."

He prods the phone out of Johnny's hand and takes a look at the other photos they were scrolling through and softly snorting at what looks like an image of you on stage, strumming at a guitar and singing your heart out. "But I reckon that's what makes you fit in so will with these bunch of nutters." His lips quirk into a faint smile as he hands you back your phone and goes back to munching on his eggs. "Ain't it always the quiet ones you gotta watch out for?"

Your cheeks blossom with warmth at his comment and the cute little smile that adorns his handsome face. "Well, I didn't think I was all that quiet." You poke your tongue in your cheek, gently prying the phone out of his hands.

His finger seems to biff at your screen as it clatters out of your grasp because his onyx eyes widen at the photo. Skin exposed, revealing the ink that embellishes your lower left hip in delicate, intricate patterns as you're posing sexy for the camera. Your heart plunges to your ass at the realization of it not being in your hidden album.

"Oh—that's, uhhh" You stammer swiftly, locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. Your tongue swipes at your lips as you avert your gaze, but Simon takes note of how you nervously twiddle with the spoon as it clatters against the walls of your mug.

Simon's eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he returns to his tea, "well, well, well..."

The rest of the team is still buzzing with the excitement of your heydays as they detect the slight change in atmosphere.

"Oi, what's all of this about, then?" Johnny asks with a mouth full of food. "Give us the scoop!"

But the Scotsman is getting scolded by Price and Kyle for not keeping his mouth shut while he eats. A sheepish smile adorns his lips, rubbing the back of his neck as he apologizes. Simon chuckles, and shakes his head, "Nothin' worth spillin', Johnny. Just a bit of a laugh."

Of course that earns some groans from them, but you can't help but bite your bottom lip and grin when Simon gives you a knowing look. Some secrets are best kept between friends.

masterlist

[jarofstyles]

hi! i cannot express how u have i adore your writing!!

this is my first time resending in an ask so i don’t know if i’m doing it right lol, but i would love to see this prompt:

“you're fucking gorgeous like that, spread out like a good girl who just wants to be eaten.”

for bsf’s dad harry.

thanks!!

Hi Angel! Thank you so much, you’re so sweet! You absolutely did it right and I’d be happy to write a little blurb for it.

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- age gap relationship, smut hehe

———

Y/N felt the shiver run through her body as she looked up at Harry. He’d arrived home from work, one of the unfortunate days he actually had to go into the office, calling for her. Usually she dealt with these days just fine, but today… she had been feeling exceptionally needy.

Sprawled out on his bed, her fingers dipped over her swollen clit and her hair fanned over his pillow, she laid naked on top of the downy comforter. Slick to the touch, hot and throbbing under her fingertips, her eyes peeked through her lashes as she gave him a tiny little smile, the slow circles drawn into her cunt slowing just a bit.

“Hi, Daddy.” She purred.

His jaw clenched, tightening up as he dropped his suit jacket onto the bench at the end of the bed. There was no hiding the hunger in his eyes as he drew them over her naked form, pausing at her pebbled nipples, soft little tummy and right between her thighs.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He murmured. Slightly disheveled, his tie was undone and his sleeves rolled up on his button up-‘and god, if that didn’t make her even more wet. His hair he’d slicked back had fallen slightly, a few strands on his forehead as he knelt on the edge of the bed. “What’s goin’ on over here, hm?” He tilted his head, fingers curling around the bedpost. “S’my girl feeling a little needy?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, spreading her legs further and pulling her fingers away so he could see the arousal stringing on her fingertips.

“Christ.” He muttered under his breath. “Why didn’t y’call me, baby? I could have been quicker getting home.” As if he didn’t worship her already, she had to admit that the genuine disappointment made her keen.

“Cause you need t’focus. I can’t be a brat just because M’a little too horny.” The girl pouted. “You’ve told me not to be a brat. I think it would be a little bratty to have you rush home just to make me cum… wouldn’t it?”

“Not when you’re the only best I have t’look forward to when I get home.” He shook his head, crawling up the bed and flittering his eyes between her cunt and her face. “You’ve been so good to me. Rarely ever a brat anymore. S’cause I fuck you right, I know, but you’ve been insatiable lately. Can’t say I’m complaining.” His lips smeared over her knee as he slowly inched closer, laying himself down between her pretty thighs. “Didn’t know I’d come home to such a pretty picture. Could be very motivating for me.”

Considering his last marriage had been a disaster at the end and he’d been unused to this, it still felt like there were times he needed to pinch himself over the fact that he had Y/N. It wasn’t without sacrifice, but he considered each and every one to be a worthy one in exchange for the sort of relationship he’d always craved. At the risk of sounding in the midst of a mid life crisis, she made him feel young again. “You’re fucking gorgeous like that, baby.” He groaned, gently taking her wrist and moving it away from herself, exposing her pussy to him. “Spread out like my good girl. She was jus’ waiting to be eaten as soon as daddy came in the door, wasn’t she?”

Y/N let out a shuddery breath as his tongue slicked up her slit, starting his own clean up mission. Her clean hand tangled in his hair, ruining any semblance of hold that his gel had tried to keep. “Yeah.” The dreamy sigh was aimed right for his cock.

“I know. I missed you… missed this perfect cunt, fuck.” He groaned, hooking his arms under her thighs and pulling her into him. Nuzzling into her pussy without a second thought, no hesitation to get his face wet. It was an honor to taste her and he wasn’t holding back as his lips suckled around her clit.

“Oh my- yes.” Her head fell back against the pillows, his mouth suctioned against her cunt and hands holding her thighs. “Yes, I missed you. Missed you so much.” She whispered, bucking up against his mouth. Tongue flicking against her clit and slow head movements as he pulled at her, sucking and licking each little motion to make her eyes water.

“Jus’ call me next time, baby.” He mumbled the words, muffled by the kisses he pressed to her mound. “Care about you more than business. Don’t wait it out when I want you just as bad.”

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.

First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.

They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.

Fair enough, Henry.

They also do something even goddamn better.

They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.

They are allowed to become FRIENDS.

They are given time to get to know each other before they get physical. You can feel their interest in each other growing. And, to my opinion, you can tell that Henry is feeling Alex out through texts to see if the interest might be reciprocated even though he thinks it can't possibly be.

One thing that kills me about romcoms is how the leads will have witty "sexy" banter but don't seem to actually like each other. They are enemies who fall into bed but aren't really believable as lovers.

Henry and Alex are believable, because they... Well. They're impossibly silly even when tearing at each other's clothes. They have awkward moments.

They laugh.

Alex laughs in bed. He holds Henry in a way that is romantic, openly so. Henry is overcoming the conditioned hesitation and avoidance he has, his smiles and warmth and laughter come with rare vulnerability - Alex is a man who throws himself head first into life and has no such compunctions in the moment. He laughs because this is awesome and Jesus Christ, Prince Henry is too hot to be real.

They like each other, they stumble, they laugh.

But also, another reason this works so well?

The sex scene isn't scorching.

Watching the sex scene felt realistically intimate. It felt like I had walked in one real people and needed to leave. It was intense in a way that felt like something I maybe wasn't meant to see.

It was filmed so well. So much romanticism and deeply felt adoration in a simple grasping of a hand, the look in soft eyes, a hand pressed against a back. The edge of a knee just in frame. Looking up and looking down.

It felt like we walked into their room during and saw them both laid utterly bare.

Henry's look of vulnerability and nerves and pleasure, Alex looking slowly over his face to take it all in. Moving slowly, then, when everything they do before this is hurried or hidden.

It works as a romcom because you believe 100% these two men could get to like each other, fall in love, and stay that way.

You believe Henry's very real terror of rejection from the public because he already knows his family, beyond his sister, will reject him. You believe that Alex is a headstrong idealist who is sure that you can bulldoze through any wall too tall to climb.

And you believe that between the two of them, they can find a way around the wall entirely.

This movie is a master class on how a movie can get you to suspend so much disbelief if the leads sell their characters. The importance of believable chemistry.

And also... Isn't it nice to see a queer love story in a world that is, in some ways, just a few shades better than our own?

P.S. you cannot tell me Stephen Fry did not chew the goddamn scenery in circles all around everyone during his single scene. That man was having a ball.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers. 

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair. 

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.” 

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.” 

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.” 

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?” 

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek. 

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand. 

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.” 

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion. 

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip. 

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth. 

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.” 

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.” 

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair. 

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised. 

“Do your worst, Peña.” 

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds. 

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life. 

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more. 

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down. 

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine. 

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you. 

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke. 

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.” 

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?” 

“M-me.” 

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart. 

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him. 

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice. 

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” 

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).” 

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face. 

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him. 

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.” 

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you. 

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.” 

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.” 

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[manticore-fangs]

Price catching us watching porn (I’m sorry but I genuinely had to ask😭)

a/n: i remember reading something awhile back with joel miller (show) x reader and getting caught watching porn, this just fuelled it 🫣

cw: dildo used, porn, masturbation, john helps you with that, not proofread, more may be added. pls lmk if i missed any.

-

ughh! i can imagine him being dads best friend and just finding you in your room, staying at your parents since they lived closer to your college. price staying there for the time-being because his job is rough and he isn’t at his house often, why move in since his best friends daughter moved out? until she moved back in due to some issues.

it was late, 12 am at most. leaving you and your phone alone, lube and a dildo shoved up your cunt. watching the man in the video pound the woman into the wooden ground. leaving you wanting to getting fucked like that, rough and fast. you wished deeply that you were the woman, just plunging it in and out with an unsteady but relentless pace.

it’s leaving you in shambles, the dildo hits the right spot but your not close too cumming at all! makes you so frustrated and pissed off, cant believe why you won’t come. until you hear a rough “uh hum.” at the front of your door. you looked over and moved at the same time, panicking and trying to explain what you were doing, thinking it was your mother or father.

but you seen john price, the man you were crushing on since you hit eighteen. you never seen anything in him until you realized men yoru age weren’t the same and treated you like cow shit. “oh jesus christ- john, fuck- i can explain.” you try to say, nervous and trying to swallow the upcoming slit in your mouth.

“is’ fine love, every man and women pleasure theirselves. nothing i haven’t seen from women.” you blushed, furiously. you didn’t expect john price, the man you crushed on, seen you fucking yourself to some video.. which is still on as you heard a loud moan from your screen and cringe, grabbing it and turning it off.

you covered yourself, giving him and you some decency. but at the same time you really wanted him to help you, but the other thought that was chewing on your brain didn’t wanna speak up. the small anxiety at the bottom of your stomach stopping you from doing it.

john was going to ask you something, but watching you put on a dazzling show for him set him off, the next thing he says doesn’t register in his mind. “i can help ya’ with that.” it sounds more like an order, demand maybe then a question. but you look up and blink twice before speaking up after a short time of silence.

“wh- what? you wanna help.. me?” and he nods, he won’t take it back now but he will always let you stop whenever the time, and no matter what. “just letting you know lovely that you do not have to be pressured to say yes. you, can say no and i can leave. when you say red, i can stop when we have sex. up to you.”

and you think, but you bite your lip gently, grabbing the blankets and moving it away from your body, showing your pussy on display for him, the dildo stick sucked inside your cunt, not letting go as you were so close to your impending orgasm. “fuck.” he moans, getting closer to you as he looks at your pussy.

“can i?” he asks and you nod, letting him inch closer and closer before he lays his calloused and rough finger tips onto your lips and spreading them. watching your arousal and sticky goo from the lube and your cunt. he grabs the base of the dildo and pushes it in, making your head throw back with a moan.

he gets a steady pace, one hand opening your lips and one at the base of the dildo and thrusting in. “want me to go faster? i know you were so close love, i’ll make it up to you.” and you nod, really trying to stay composed enough to speak but the pace of that dildo inside it makes everything go away. he angles it correctly and just pushes it deep against your back wall, feeling a sensation start to form but you cannot gather anything besides moans.

“john - oh fuck john- please wait - ohm-“ you can’t speak for the life of you and your eyes keep flittering shut. throwing your head back and forth, trying to stop your squirming but you can’t from the pleasure you feel, the dildo going faster as you hear sticky squelches. john just chuckles at you, looking at your desperate state and just thinking of how you’d break apart on his dick.. but that’ll be saved for another time. right now he just wants to stretch you out on that dildo that you were trying to fuck yourself on.

“deeper john - need you to go deeper please -“ you sob out, tears in your waterline. john let’s put short ‘okays’ and fucks the base into you, moving deeper then before and stimulating that spot more and more. leaving you breathless with want and need, you just need johns dick so bad. “i know you need my dick lovely but that’ll be for another time, just need’ta get you perfectly stretched for my dick.” shit. you must’ve said that out loud.

he fucks the dildo faster, not relenting his pace even though his arms are getting slightly sore at the rapid movement. “john! johnjohnjohnjohn - fuck ‘m gon-‘ i’m cuhm- i’m cumming!” you start to shiver and squirm from the overstimulation which john slowly slowed down his pace. leaving you breathless and weeping.

you groan and whimper. orgasm drawn out, leaving you in a sub space. “i’ll take care of you lovie, let me take care of you. promise i’ll be good for ya’” you don’t remember much when john picked you up. succumbing to the rest that was consuming you.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

Incoming Steddie thoughts…..(brief mentions of Eddie losing weight, but it’s really just one sentence and he’s ok)

So you know how Eddie tapes his rings to make them fit? You’ve seen the pictures of his hands. Yes, you have don’t lie to me. So he wraps tape around the underside to make them fit his fingers.

Yeah, so what if they’d been together for long enough that they want to give each other things. But like subtle ones, cus like, 1980s middle america… So Eddie gives Steve his guitar pick necklace because of course he would, and he can just tuck it into his shirt. (and I really feel like Steve is a necklace type of guy, like not just a chain guy- no absolutely not he needs some kind of pendant somehow) But Steve needs to give Eddie something inconspicuous too, something people won’t notice right away and even if they did, something they wouldn’t question.

So he decides on his class ring but Whump Whump, Steve has bigger fingers than Eddie and he already knows that so before he gives it to him he gets some string and he wraps it around the back because it’s softer than tape.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah Stevie?”

“You know how you gave me your necklace?”

“Yeah and I told you I don’t want anything back so get that hand out of that pocket and it better be empty”

“I didn’t get you anything, I already had it.”

“I said you don’t have to give me anything.”

“Too late, take it” and he presses it right into his palm.

Eddie looks at it and he shakes his head and makes a face, “Stevie, what- I can’t take this from you.”

“Yes you can, I’m giving it to you. Does it fit?”

“Yeah, uh perfectly, actually”

Then nobody really notices for a while, Eddie’s hands always flying around so fast no one gets a chance to really look at the numbers engraved on the side. They all know they’re together, but no one really gets the intensity of their relationship, considering they’ve only been together for so long. But they do notice the different colored string on the other side. Then Dustin and Gareth get worried that he’s losing weight again. So they ask him about it and he cannot make eye contact and he’s just fidgeting with his rings, which only worries them more but then they see his goofy little smile under his bangs and he just spills about how he and Steve traded and it was so cute and “Steve’s just so ugh- I can’t even make it into words, but he got the size perfect and everything, and I just-“ and they haven’t said they love each other out loud yet.

Then one day he’s cleaning all his rings so he has to take the string off and he sees the engraving underneath it. On one side, in the standard times new roman every one got, a nice, even SH. Then as he’s unwrapping it, he sees something else, and he starts panicking “oh my god I scratched it, he’s gonna be so upset, I scratched it Jesus H Christ.” Then after he paces his bathroom for a solid 15 minutes, his hands dragging down his face, rubbing his nose, he finishes unwinding it and there, in the most scraggly looking etching is a little, uneven EM

@haydipoof

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 12

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11.

Summary: What happens after Melissa catches you kissing your ex-husband?

WC: 2.65k

Melissa comes in just as Jared plants his lips on yours. You push him away weakly, your stomach absolutely killing you as you do so.

“What the fuck?” your girlfriend rages. There’s a fire in her eyes that you’ve only seen a few other times, and they’ve never been directed at you. It’s… terrifying to say the least. Jared just looks smug as he looks to her.

“What? Babe, did you not tell Melissa that the two of you were through and we were back together?” he asks, feigning confusion- although it’s very clear to both you and Melissa that he knows exactly what he’s saying and doing.

“Mel, it- it isn’t what it looks like,” you try to tell her, but you know it’s no use. She thinks she knows what she saw.

“Fuck you. Fuck both of you,” she points a finger at the two of you. She turns on her heel and storms out, slamming your front door as she goes. That startles Ellie out of her slumber, and you hear her cries from the living room. Ellie hates loud noises, and she always has- she can’t handle them when she’s just woken up. Across the hall, you can hear Melissa slam her own front door too. Somehow, it shakes your side of the hall again.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” you hiss at your ex-husband as you do your best to rush to your daughter’s side. You collapse on the couch next to her and pull her into your arms as much as you can, peppering kisses to her head in hopes of calming her down.

“Momma! Why did the house shake?!” your little girl whimpers into your chest. “Where’s Mel? I want Mel.”

Jared sets himself down on the couch next to you and has the audacity to try to twist what happened to your daughter. “Melissa isn’t happy that Momma and Daddy are getting back together. I doubt you’ll see much of her again.”

“Jared, I said to get the hell out,” you seethe as you continue to run your fingers through Ellie’s hair. “We are not getting back together, Ellie. And you will continue to see Mel, I promise.” You just hope that you can keep that promise. If you and Melissa are through, you can only hope that the redhead who has wormed her way into your daughter’s heart will continue to be there for Ellie.

“I’m trying to comfort my daughter,” he tells you and continues to gently rub the little girl’s back.

“Jared, if you are not out of this house within the next ten seconds, I swear to God,” you close your eyes and threaten him angrily. 

“What are you going to do, Y/N?” he tells you. “I’m not leaving.”

“Elizabeth, go over to Melissa’s, please,” you say seriously. “She’ll watch you while your father and I talk.”

You’ve never seen your little girl move so fast, and she’s always running around. She sprints out the front door, leaving it open and knocks frantically on your neighbor’s door.

“Mel, please! It’s Ellie!”

The door whips open, and at the tears and the fear in your daughter’s eyes, Melissa scoops up your little girl. She presses a soft kiss to Ellie’s head as your daughter hides her face in the crook of your neighbor’s neck. Melissa glares at you through the opening in your door before turning back into her own living space.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout at Jared. “You cheat on me, you leave our family and our life, and then when I’m finally happy again, you come in and ruin it all!”

“I came back to say I was sorry and that I wanted to get back together!” he yells right back at you.

“And I told you very clearly, that I wanted no parts of that! And then you drag our daughter into it?! Jesus Christ, Jared. If I had known that this was the-” you cut yourself off to gasp in pain at the terrible pain on the right side of your abdomen. “If I had know that this was what our lives would turn out to be…”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that,” he hisses at you. “We made Ellie together, and you cannot go and say that you would wish her away.”

“I would never wish my child away- like you did, and for what?! To go sleep with her babysitter!”

“And I realized that I fucked up!”

“No fucking shit!” you scream. “We had the perfect life! The perfect family! And you went and fucked it all up! And now, now that I have the perfect life here with my parents and my little girl and my girlfriend, you find your way back and manage to fuck all of that up too!” That gets the attention of Melissa and Ellie. The redhead hasn’t closed the door to her apartment, and she can hear and see the two of you perfectly from where she holds Ellie close to her on the couch.

“I didn’t fuck anything up! You fucked it all up by moving across the country and being gay!”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with me loving who I love! What is wrong is that you decided to become a dirty, rotten-” He smacks you clean across the face. You cry out in pain as a hand flies up to your face. But you regain your composure again because the slap across the face pales in comparison to the absolutely searing pain in your stomach. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. And don’t think that I won’t be filing for-”

You get cut off again, but this time it’s by Ellie and Melissa. You hadn’t realized that the redhead had kept her door open and that yours was still ajar. Both of them had just witnessed your ex-husband lay his hands on you.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Melissa seethes. “Get the fuck away from her, or so help me, God.”

Jared stands from his place. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

“Ellie,” you cut in. “Your room, now. Headphones on.”

Your child, for once, doesn’t follow your orders. Instead, she marches herself straight up to your ex-husband. “Don’t hit Momma!”

He, in a fit of rage, raises his hand. Before he can strike her though, Melissa rips him away from the couch. You pull your daughter as close to you as you can, terrified of what might happen. You know Melissa has a temper on her, and you also know that she isn’t one to back down from a bare knuckled fist fight, even against a man as fit as your ex-husband. Luckily, her adrenaline takes over and she’s able to throw him out the door before slamming it shut and locking him out.

She shouts through the door, knowing that he’ll hear her, “I wouldn’t try anything else, asshole!”

He continues to yell and scream about how she has no right to take his child and wife away from him before the redhead reaches for your phone and calls the police.

As Jared continues to shout at you through the door, Melissa turns her attention to you. Your cheek is bright red, and the outline of Jared’s hand is etched into your skin.

“Melissa, I-”

“Don’t,” is all she says before she walks into your kitchen and grabs an ice pack.

“But I-”

“Don’t worry about nothing,” Melissa tells you as she presses it to skin gently. She smirks. “He’s fucked. I got it all on video with my phone set up on the counter in my apartment.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you cling to Ellie.

Your little girl is hysterical as she clings to you just as much. “Momma, I didn’t- I didn’t like that. I didn’t- I hated that!”

“I know, I know,” you mumble into her hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Melissa does her best to help soothe your daughter, but nothing really works because watching her father strike her mother and then almost being hit herself has Ellie quite shaken- and with good reason.

Jared is still yelling at all three of you through the door about how this isn’t over- how he’s going to get you and Ellie back. Thankfully, Melissa has the sense to go into Ellie’s room and grab her headphones to help block out the noise. Still, your little girl is more shaken than you’ve seen her before. It feels like forever before the police show up at your door. They cart him away before knocking.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this!” you hear Jared threaten as they pull him down the hall. You go to stand up to answer it, but your girlfriend gently pushes you back into the cushions with your daughter before going to open it.

“Schemmenti?” the officer asks. “Damn, I should’ve known.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ this time, Jerome,” the redhead smirks before sobering. “I called because that asshole was laying hands on my girlfriend.”

“You two know each other?” you look between the two of them curiously.

“I told you I know guys in almost every department, didn’t I?” Melissa turns to you before inviting the man in blue in. 

The officer take your statement, Melissa’s statement, and Ellie’s statement before they leave with a promise that a restraining order will go through for the three of you against your ex-husband. Ellie shocks everyone in the room by stating that she never wants to see her father again- that she didn’t like the mean side of him and doesn’t want him to hit her.

“I also got in touch with Marco about the child support,” Melissa tells her guy. He nods with a chuckle. The man in blue heads out not much later, leaving you with your girlfriend (you think she’s still your girlfriend) and your daughter.

“Melissa, I-”

“Not right now,” is all she says. “All that matters right now is getting Ellie to calm down, fed, and in bed, and then we can talk, okay?”

You nod. You know she’s right.

“Give me five minutes to go change into my pajamas and grab my phone, and I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

She just kisses your temple in lieu of an answer before heading across the hall. And she is back in the promised five minutes- it actually only takes her about three to return back to you.

“You started on dinner?” she asks, not quite sure what else to say in the tense air.

“Nothin’s been cooked,” you sigh.

���Pizza it is,” the redhead tells you as she heads into the kitchen. She returns a few seconds later with the heating pad in hand and some Midol to help alleviate your pains. She pulls Ellie into her arms before gesturing for you to lay your head in her lap. You follow her instruction before she hands you the supplies. You smile at her gratefully.

By the time the pizza has come, you’ve fallen asleep and Ellie isn’t hysterical anymore. You wake up with your head on a pillow as opposed to your girlfriend’s lap, and the redhead and daughter are both quietly eating dinner when you look into the kitchen. When you really listen in, you can hear Melissa trying to soothe your daughter’s fears over what happened earlier today.

“Daddy said that he and Momma are getting back together, and that I won’t see you anymore though,” Ellie sighs sadly. “I don’t want you to go… I love you, Mel.”

“El, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I am not leaving you, or your momma, for you to believe me,” the redhead assures your daughter with yet another kiss to her head. “I love you both so much.”

“‘M just scared,” your little girl admits quietly. “I already losed Daddy, but he isn’t my favoritest anymore. I don’t want to lose you Mel. You’re my one of my favoritest people, and I know your Momma’s favoritest too. ”

“I think you take the title of your Momma’s favorite person in the world,” Melissa smiles at your daughter. Then she validates your child’s feelings. “And I understand that you’re scared, but I promise you that I am here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere if I can help it. I don’t wanna lose my two favorite people either.”

Your heart swells at that admission. She still loves you- Jared may not have ruined your relationship after all. You had thought that maybe she was just playing the part for Ellie, but it’s confirmed now in your mind that you aren’t losing Melissa in your life. Deciding now is a good time to make it known that you’re awake, you pull the blanket that had been draped around you with you into the kitchen and kiss both of their heads before settling in your chair. Almost immediately, Ellie is wiggling her way into your arms and holding onto you tightly.

Dinner is quiet and tense, and so is the hour that you all spend on the couch before putting your little girl to bed.

Melissa, as much as she just wants to get your daughter to bed, fully puts herself into character as she reads Ellie’s favorite bedtime story with all of the theatrics that she would usually use- and it feels so good to hear your little girl’s giggles against you, especially after the shit that hit the fan today. But when it comes time to leave Ellie in her room, she doesn’t want any of it.

“Momma, I’m scared,” she whispers as she clutches your shirt desperately. I want you and Mel.”

You can’t blame her for that. So you simply whisk her away and into your own bedroom. Melissa follows, of course she does.

It doesn’t take long for your daughter to fall asleep between you and the redhead, the day’s events exhausting her. And when she starts to snore softly, you know she’s out for the night.

You turn your head to look at Melissa. “Mel, can we talk?”

“Yeah, hun,” the redhead sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry I stormed out. I thought-”

“I know what you thought you saw,” you tell her softly. “And I-” 

“Can you let me get this out?” your girlfriend asks. “I need to get this off my chest.”

“I’m listening,” you promise.

“I’ve been cheated on before too, as you know,” she mumbles. Then she clears her throat. “I thought that you really were getting back with him and that you were just stringing me along… that the reason you didn’t tell me about meeting him at first was because you were planning on getting back with him. And I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known, but my emotions and fears got the best of me, and I reacted before I could be rational.”

You reach across your daughter curled up into you and squeeze your girlfriend’s hand gently.

“I understand,” is what you say. “I totally understand. But please… please know that I don’t want him. I only want you. I want to get past all of this drama with him and then just focus on us and the life that we’re building together.”

She smiles at you with warm eyes. “That’s all I want to do too.”

“We’re gonna get through this,” you promise her.

She pushes herself up on her elbows just slightly in order to kiss you gently. “We’re gonna get through this. We’ll get everything with him straightened out, I’ll make sure that you get the child support money, and we’ll start our lives together.”

The next morning, when you wake up with Ellie on top of you snoring softly and Melissa's arms wrapped around you, you know that maybe... just maybe, everything will be okay.

AND THAT FOLKS IS THE END OF THIS SERIES UNLESS SOMEONE GIVES ME REASON TO WRITE MORE :) 🤍

tags: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[prazinos]

Could you possibly make an Ajax smut where his team lost the poe cup and the readers team won it and he just kinda takes his anger out on/punishes the reader because maybe she was kinda mean during it and he has his jester makeup on during it? Ignore this if you want, btw love your writing :D

Okay Anon, I got a bit carried away but yk hopefully you like this <3

Poe Cup

This can be read as a bit of a part two to Love At First..Sight? But also as a stand-alone

Summary ~ You used your telekinetic abilities to win the Poe Cup and Ajax isn’t too happy about it

WARNINGS ! ~ SMUT MINORS DNI | Oral {F} | Fingering | Overstimulation | PiV |

You and Wednesday finally got to the flags and grabbed she grabbed it before you both sprinted back towards the boats.

You saw your boyfriend and Xavier not too far in front of you and a cruel idea popped into your head.

Now, anything goes during the Poe cup but that doesn’t mean you didn’t feel slightly guilty at what you were going to do.

Using your telekinetic abilities you dragged Ajax and Xavier into the air. They looked down to see you and Wednesday. As you ran past them you blew Ajax a kiss which he just glared at you.

‘Shit!’ Xavier shouted

You dropped the boys and climbed into the boat. Quickly paddling to get to the finish line.

You all crossed the finish line cheering you bent over slightly, attempting to catch your breath and looking up to see your boyfriend in his jester costume. You couldn’t deny he looked good in it. But you stopped yourself from jumping his bones right then and there

You were in Bianca and Enid’s room as Wednesday and Enid were in yours ‘celebrating’.

‘I cannot believe you guys punctured our boat!’ Bianca groaned

‘I’m sorry but it was a little funny’ you giggled and she threw a pillow at you.

You changed out of your costume and wiped off the makeup. It was Enid’s idea to be dressed as cats and you had to admit you did look hot in the costume.

Shrugging on your pyjama shorts and singlet you sat on Bianca’s bed and stuck your hand out so she could paint them.

After a while of watching Gilmore Girls with Bianca and arguing over who should have ended up with Rory, your phone buzzed.

Ajax <3

Come to my dorm, it’s an emergency

‘Shit’ you said grabbing your costume and shoes from the floor.

‘Everything okay?’ Bianca asked

‘No, I think Ajax is in trouble. He said it’s an emergency’ you said

‘Oh yeah, emergency’ Bianca said chuckling.

You rolled your eyes before shutting the door behind you, speed walking to Ajax’s dorm.

You used the key he gave you and walked in to see Ajax. Completely fine. And still in his costume. What?

‘What the hell Ajax you said it was an emergency! And why are you still in your costume?’ You scolded.

You were pinned to the door by Ajax and you looked up at him. His snakes hissing at you

‘That shit you pulled during the cup and you thought you’d get away with it?’ He asked voice deep and stern.

You clenched your thighs together, attempting to get any friction before he shoved them open with his hand.

‘No, you don’t get to do that’ he said.

Ajax picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you hated how lean he looked compared to his strength.

You were thrown onto his bed before he grabbed your legs and dragged them to the end of the bed. You felt your clit aching in want. Any friction anything at all.

He grabbed your shorts and dragged them down your legs along with your underwear. And you rubbed your thighs together again before he slapped your right one. Telling you to stop.

You looked up at him, taking in his entire frame. Jesus Christ , his shirt was gone but he still had the makeup on as well as pants, snakes out, dark look in his eye. To say you were dripping would be an understatement.

He spread your thighs with his hands and leaned down looking at your dripping cunt. You whined, he was so close but he wasn’t giving you anything.

‘God you’re so impatient’ he mumbled.

Seeing as this was your first time with Ajax it was insane that this was the same nervous man who had confessed to you in your room only a month ago.

He rubbed some of the jester makeup from his mouth.

He leaned in, licking an experimental lick up your cunt before diving in completely.

You’d moaned out, nobody had ever done this to you before. Sure you’d had boyfriends and had sex but none of them actually went down on you. All complaining that it tasted weird or it was too slimy.

But Ajax was moaning into you clearly loving the taste. You looked down at him whimpering when you saw he was looking right back at you. You bucked your hips and he gripped them holding you down in place allowing him to do whatever he pleased.

He inserts two fingers into your entrance before curling them while sucking on your clit.

You feel your legs start to shake, your so close to the edge

And he stops.

You look down at him to see him smirking, rubbing circles into your thigh.

‘What the fuck Ajax’

‘I’m not letting you get off that easy’ he says chuckling darkly before he continues ‘now I’m gonna get some food, I’m starving’

He gets off you and stands up walking to the door.

You smirk to yourself before reaching a hand down to your clit, rubbing it, moaning quietly,

You watch through hooded lids as Ajax snaps to turn around before taking long fast strides towards you. Grabbing your hand and snatching it from your clit.

‘The fuck do you think you’re doing?’ He asks, clearly furious

‘Making myself cum, idiot’ you snap back.

He glares at you before smiling. That can’t be good. He tears off your singlet and I mean literally. He leans back down to your cunt, he shoves two fingers back inside you curling them immediately.

Your back arches as you moan loudly. He moves his head to lick at your cunt once more. He’s ruthless with his tongue, he’s incredible but ruthless.

He sucks on your clit and your legs begin to shake again, you swear that if he pulls away again you’d kill him.

You’re gripping the sheets below you as you feel yourself tip off the edge.

Letting out moans and whimpers of Ajax’s name you come back down from the orgasm that had washed over you.

He doesn’t let up though, continuing to lick, and finger your pussy. You attempt to push him away by pushing at his forehead.

You’re too sensitive, and he’s still not letting up.

You soon feel your second orgasm wash over you as your legs feel like jelly.

And he still, does. Not. Let. Up.

It feels like you’re on the brink of pleasure and pain. Tears are streaming down your face as your juices cover his.

The sounds of it are disgusting but they just get you closer to the edge. You feel like you’re going to explode if he continues like this.

You’re a panting mess as you feel the same explosion of pleasure wash over you again.

You look down at him again and the look in his eyes tells you he’s still not stopping

‘Ajax, please, shit, please stop, it hurts’

And you weren’t lying, your clit aching, this time not in desperation but in overstimulation.

He finally raises his head removing his fingers and sucking them clean.

‘Come on panemorfi, one more, one more on my cock this time’

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at the nickname and you nod weakly

‘Words panemorfi’

‘Yes, I can..I can do one more..I um, birth control ’ you say, your voice raspy, although your English was a bit broken he understood what you meant.

Somehow, with little strength you had, sat up and motioned for him to lay down. He did as you ‘said’ and lied down on the bed. You got on top of him, admiring how pretty he looked before aligning his hard cock with your entrance.

You slowly sank down on it, moaning at how he stretched you open even after being fingered.

Ajax groaned at the feeling of your tight walls, admiring your body as you bounced on top of him, he couldn’t take his eyes off your bouncing breasts.

Gripping your hips starting to thrust into you, you let out a high pitched moan throwing your head back. Your orgasm approaching quickly.

Ajax’s moans slowly dissolved into whimpering loudly. Indicating he was getting close.

Your legs were burning, but you were so so close.

‘Fuck, Y/N gonna come, shit gonna-‘ Ajax cut himself off with a loud moan, spilling into you, triggering your own orgasm. Letting a whimper out.

After a while of just catching your breath, you got off of Ajax, reaching over to his bedside table grabbing the tissues.

You cleaned yourself and Ajax up before lying down next to him.

‘Sorry for putting you in the air’

‘I guess it’s okay’ he chuckled. You slapped his chest lightly laughing with him.

Laying in peace for a while you suddenly remembered

‘Shit!’ You yelled standing up to grab your clothes, going to Ajax’s closet grabbing a pair of his boxers you put them on and then your pyjamas. Wiping the smeared jester makeup off your face

‘What? What are you doing?’ Ajax asked

‘We’re meant to be hanging out with everybody’ you said throwing some clothes at Ajax and rubbing the makeup off his face.

‘By the way, wear this makeup more often’ you said making him smirk.

You got to your dorm with Ajax trailing behind you opening it to see everybody watching Hereditary.

Everybody turned around to face the two of you.

‘So’ Xavier said pausing to take a sip of his drink ‘snake pubes?’ He asked

You rolled your eyes as Bianca, Xavier and Enid laughed.

A/N ~ I really do hope this was okay {hopefully it is}

Let me know if you liked this by liking, Reblogging, or commenting

Panemorfi ~ Gorgeous {Greek}

By my loves <3

[klausinamarink]

He Want Kiss

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 630 | tags: post s4, getting together, first kiss, Steve is down bad | prompt: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve is obsessed with Eddie’s lips. 

Like completely to the point that he might actually start going to therapy. 

But Steve is just a simple man. He sees a pair of well-rounded lips that can make a perfect smile with dimples and he’s a goner. For example, look at Eddie. They’re so plump looking that Steve cannot believe it’s legal. And the way they move whenever Eddie speaks-

“-ink I should go for this one?”

Steve snaps his gaze up, barely surviving from the combination of head whiplash and the pointed attack of Eddie’s eyes, Jesus Christ, look at them Bambi eyes.

“Oh yeah, man.” How Steve manages not to stutter is both a mystery and a blessing. 

“Yeah?” Eddie looks at him, his expression mixed with expectation and nervousness.

“Yeah.” Steve repeats confidently. He’s already forgetting what exactly they were talking about but he knows it has to do with Eddie trying to get a job, hence why he called Steve over to help him out with the few applications that believe in Eddie’s innocence. “Like, yeah, go for that.” 

Christ, he might as well bash his head again. Steve really doesn’t want to come off as a douche again, but it’s not his fault that Eddie’s lips are just right there. They’re just begging to be kissed.

Thankfully, Eddie seems pleased by his answer. He smiles, dimples and all - oh lord please have mercy on Steve’s soul because he cannot handle the adorableness any longer - as he says, “Well, if Steve Harrington says so, then I will do it.” Then Eddie starts biting his lip, glancing down at the resume they’ve polished together. 

Steve digs his fingernails through the jeans over his thighs, but it’s not enough to bat away the growing temptation to reach forward and brush his fingers over Eddie so the other man wouldn’t abuse his lips anymore. The skin had already been cracked and bleeding in the past few months and it’s always so devastating to see Eddie hurt a part of himself like this.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Steve should kiss him. 

Eddie is right there. While there will be lots of opportunities to have him at Steve’s side, there’ll never be another perfect chance like this. 

Steve leans forward a bit but stops himself. Has Eddie ever been kissed before? If he did, does he like the faint touch of lips brushing together? Like smashed together? Full-on make-out sessions that lead to something more passionate? 

Okay, Steve could work on the slow route. He’s done it before with his previous girlfriends. He could lean in at a snail’s pace so Eddie has enough time to register what’s happening and-

“Steve?”

Suddenly, Eddie’s face is much closer than Steve remembers. He feels a heat of breath against his lips. Then the rush of realization comes over Steve because he was about to kiss Eddie.

Yet despite this, Steve barely feels a sense of embarrassment. He stays in place, staring into Eddie’s wide eyes as they flicker over his face, lingering on Steve’s lips every few seconds. 

Finally, Eddie huffs out a nervous little laugh, “You, uh, listened to what I just said?”

“Hm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine and whatever Eddie does next, he’s going to scream at the heavens anyway. 

Eddie’s lips form the briefest of smirks, but it’s gone in a blink. They part open slightly. 

Steve can’t hold it anymore. He closes the space between them and meets Eddie’s lips at last. It’s more rough and desperate than he plans it to be and tries to dial it back. But when Eddie kisses him with a similar force, Steve goes screw it and kisses back like it’s their last chance.

[sunnnfish]

Okay OKAY I wasn’t gonna propagandize the summer hikaru died but ive been thinking a little too much about it. SORRY I’ve been basically recommending a hundred different series. If you think my posts are all over the place you should see my brain. Anyways.

The THING about the summer hikaru died. The many things about it. That are getting to me. Number one the overwhelming feeling of SUMMER. Almost every page has the sound effects of cicadas or rain and sweat on everyone’s bodies. It’s so immersive, to me at least. It’s like it never lets you forget. A constant droning it feels like everyone has to speak a little louder to be heard. Something oppressive lives here, and it’s not just the eldritch horrors.

Number TWO. Grief. But in like that horror way. Mourning somebody no one else knows is gone. I’m just gonna say it bc it’s revealed in like the first 5 pages it’s body replacement. Some.. thing replaces the main characters best friend and it’s like. The twisting feeling in your gut looking at something that you should know but knowing it’s not the same anymore. It’s someone else. Look at this page I can’t stop thinking about it

[ID: A panel from Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu. Yoshiki sits with his head on his desk, drawn so his face and body are streaking down the page in smears of black. Around him float black text bubbles with scratchy text saying "To move on." Then he lifts his head with a gasp when someone exclaims, "Finally! There you are!" End ID]

That’s fucking GRIEF a sinking terrible grief. That nobody in their right mind could understand. But it’s also like. Christ it’s the mitsuba sousuke tbhk dilemma it’s that this new thing is it’s own person too. They aren’t the same but it’s damn near impossible to separate them because they look the same and act the same and desperately want to be the same. They want to be alive.

THREE. Cannot forget the queerness. The queer allegories and actual queerness are intense. Grotesqueness and horror at being different. Feeling like you know something is bad but you can’t help but enjoy it. Gut wrenching desire mixed in with every complicated feeling about losing your best friend while something pilots his body almost perfectly. It’s very fucked up. ALSO. Fear at being found out. Self hatred for being grotesque and different and not what everyone wants. Not what he wants.

Anyways uuuhhhh.yeah the summer hikaru died is fascinating to me. I love the feeling of it. Gives me chills. It’s cool 👍🏻 ALSO THE ART IS SO. GOOD. Haunting. I love it.