#mine: drabble

[alchemyfreak321]

Okay, okay I have this story idea that's available to a good home (i.e someone please please write this)

It's a dream come true to be loved and worshipped by four big beautiful men. At least in the beginning, when they couldn't get enough of you and you spent most of your waking hours cock drunk and blissed out. And even when the early days of carnal needs wore off and all of you settled into a domestic bliss, you were still on cloud nine. The way they took care of you and never left you wanting was nothing like you've ever experienced.

But all good things come to an end and like everyone else in your life they seem to pull away. Long deployments where they fought bad guys during the day and kept each other warm at night but you were left to your own devices back home. When they came back with inside jokes that you couldn't really understand. How you couldn't comfort them like the could each other. Slowly you notice how everyone seem to pair off naturally. How John and Kyle always checked in with each other or how Simon and Johnny both seem to ground each other.

And you, the literal odd one out.

Someone please give my brain fart a home

[honeycrafting]

Azem likes to tease Hades. Hades only pretends to not like it.

- - - - -

Azem knew very well what he was doing when he’d barged into Hades’ office, leaning down onto his desk. His forearms rested atop the paperwork Hades had been slumped over for the better part of the afternoon.

The grin plastered on his face was more handsome than Hades would ever admit.

“You’re wrinkling the paper.”

From this angle, Azem’s loose robes hung down just low enough for his collarbones to be exposed to Hades’ hungry eyes.

Azem’s grin grew more smug.

Oh, yes, he definitely knew what he was doing.

Hades cleared his throat, turning his eyes away.

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy, Hades. Am I not allowed to visit and see how you fare on this fine day?”

“All you’ve done is make a mess of my desk.” Hades grumbled, finally nudging Azem off.

Azem chuckled, and instead moved around the desk. Leaning over Hades’ shoulder, his breath tickled the back of Hades’ neck.

Hades busied himself with smoothing out the wrinkled edge of the paper in front of him, so that Azem might not notice the way his heart was beating rapidly.

“Forget about your boring paperwork,” Azem purred into his ear, too close for comfort. “I could think of a much better way to make a mess of your desk.”

Hades turned the brightest red, his trembling hands accidentally ripping the paper.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Hades yelled, pushing Azem away. Hades was blushing down to his chest.

Azem’s laughter could be heard across all of Amaurot.

[lu-sn]

“What are you doing,” Pete says warily.

Vegas plasters himself to Pete’s back, sly smile reflected in the bathroom mirror. He plucks the toothbrush out of Pete’s hand, then yanks Pete’s pha khao ma down.

“Oh,” Pete says, as Vegas presses a hand to Pete’s neck and bends him over the counter. “Oh.”

Vegas licks a messy trail down Pete’s bony spine, then buries his nose between Pete’s ass cheeks. “Mmm,” he says. He starts lapping at Pete’s hole, loud and wet.

Pete shudders. He digs his cheek into the sharp edge of the sink — arches greedily against Vegas’s mouth.

-

written for the thanksgiving drabble challenge 😗

[alchemyfreak321]

Price I think doesn't believe in everything but has seen enough to have a healthy respect (read fear) for the all things Supernatural. He definitely has more knowledge about all the cryptids they've come across so far but no one really knows how he knows. Rumor has it he made a deal with a djin back in his military days. He's been at this long enough to know when it's a real haunting or not, but you can't put a price on a peace of mind (he can, it's the same if it's real or not, honestly he should charge more for wasting his time).

Kyle I think is a skeptic, thinks there's a scientific explanation for everything. There's a strange energy in the corner of the room? Probably some electric static caused by old wirings. Strange draft? Old house problems. Weird sounds from the attic? Seriously, just renovate.

Ghost I think is also a skeptic but he's the one taunting ghosts and demons because hunting ghosts takes too long and he'd rather be back (not hunted)home. "Hey there ghosts, it's me...your boy Ghost", "If you like us turn the lights on and off", "You can have Soap if you let us kill you".

Johnny, a proper catholic boy that he is, believes! He's coming to every hunt prepared with knapsack filled with viles holy water, salt, salt fulled buckshots (he learnt that from his favorite show), iron and as many crosses and talismans he can get his hands on. He also wanted to get sliver bullets but Price wouldn't approve the charges.

back on my ghost hunting with the 141 thoughts

please give me your thoughts of the guys beliefs

[rafeslittlepup]

thinking about rafe giving you a puppy when you move to tannyhill

you’re all curled up in the corner of the giant bed, knees tucked to her chest.

you’ve been in tannyhill for three days and even though rafe picks you, kisses you temple and calls you his girl, even though you get fresh flowers on your nightstand and pastel pastries on a tray, you feel a little homesick…

your mom won’t pick up your calls. friends are all planning sorority mixers, they go to college, unlike you. and rafe is busy.

so when he bursts through the front door one afternoon with a big smirk and something squirming in a big pale pink ribbon. you blink at first. “what is that?”

he lifts the tiny, teacup-sized pup like he’s holding up a little trophy. “your new best friend. thought you needed some company, y’know, while i’m working.”

you gasp, sparkly eyes and everything. “rafey!”

he just smirks, placing the soft little puppy in your lap like it’s compensation. for the move, for the silence, for being his tiny, spoiled housewife before you’re even old enough to legally drink.

“this place is yours now, bunny. gotta get used to it.”

[bcksbarnes]

bucky never tried to hide how absolutely vulgar his vocabulary was, though he tried to be on his best behavior in the beginning of your relationship. that didn't mean it didn't slip from time to time.

a mumbled 'shit, god dammit' every few minutes when he was trying to put together the coffee table you had ordered to your apartment but he couldn't get the screws in the exact right spot. it took him 3 hours to finish.

when you went out to eat and the guy in front of you didn't hold the door open and it slammed in your face bucky's response was an angered 'what's your fucking problem, dickhead?' which ultimately made you laugh and forget about the bloodied nose you had. bucky held back his need to kick the guy's ass in favor of getting you cleaned up.

all bets were off by your first anniversary, bucky didn't care anymore, and you liked the overuse of profanities.

"bullshit," he mutters to himself one night. pacing back and forth in your bedroom so quickly you thought he was going to burn a hole in the rug.

"what is?" you ask, absentmindedly folding laundry as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

"this fucking asshole is trying to fucking upsell me on the part for the bike," he mutters, his phone clutched in his hand. "$500 more than the quote. he's lost his goddamn mind."

"you can't let it get to you."

"so fucking dumb. i should have just done it myself," bucky grumbles as he throws the phone on the bed and sits on the edge. he runs his fingers through his hair before letting out a loud sigh. "i could have had this shit fixed fucking weeks ago."

you finish folding the last shirt before you make your way over to him, climbing into his lap and tilting his head back. you can see the frustration in his features, the way his brows furrow together.

suddenly, the need to make him feel better overwhelms you.

you feel him relax and his hands rub your thighs as he succumbs to the way your lips press his jaw, a strangled 'fuuuuuck' whispered in your ear as he forgets everything he was mad about.

only focused on you.

[usedtobecooler]

obsessed with the idea of eddie munson making you hold his cum in your mouth instead of swallowing, just because he wants to further the defiling of your body.

“show me, baby,” his voice is soft with an edge of demand, thumb and forefinger pinching your chin and shaking your head gently with the grip, “open up for me.”

you let your tongue loll out over your bottom lip, feel the mixture of his release and spit drip from the tip of it and paint your chin in a debauched display. your eyes crossing slightly with the effort of looking up at him, feeling the ridge of his thumb touch the flesh of your tongue, undoubtedly being coated with the milky spend.

“filthy.” he muses, a smirk on his features as he takes in the sight of you laid bare on your knees for him, chest heaving with the need to snake a hand between your legs and relieve your own ache. “fuckin’ beautiful.”

you hiccup a shuddery breath, feel the cooling liquid spill down the sides of your chin and drip down your neck in rivulets, dipping into your collarbones and drying there.

eddie looks between your watery, red-rimmed eyes and your mouth like he wants to fucking devour you, two fingers swiping messily through the slippery trail on your chin and snaking into your mouth.

your lips close around the base of his digits on sheer autopilot, pleasure coursing through your veins as you suck and lap at his fingers, moaning as you finally get to swallow down the heady, musky taste of him.

he thrusts his fingers in and out of your slick lips, cackling this beautiful sound that shoots straight to your core, “that’s it baby, you’re so dumb for it. it’s all muscle memory for you, huh? suckin’ any part of me down that you can get.”

and he’s beautiful like this, looming over you like a god painted in alabaster flesh. dominant in his stance, his usually warm eyes hardened with a hint of something dangerous as he pushes those fingers deeper, deeper, deeper.

until he’s curling his palm around your chin, those fingers still leaving you gagging and spluttering, and shoving you onto your back.

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[alchemyfreak321]

Price has your whole hand covered and they just darwfs yours. Just hands laced together, giving three quick squeezes when he wants your attention.

Kyle has one arm draped over your shoulder and fingers laced with yours across his waist. It doesn't matter he has to twist his arm, he just wants to keep you close. Temple kisses are a given.

Johnny, let's be real, he probably has you in headlock, squeezing as close to him as he can, face half buried in your hair, pressing kisses and whispering all the filthy things in your ear, making you blush and elbow him in the chest. Which just makes him laugh and pull you back closer.

Simon is simple, your palms facing together, fingers interlocked (kind of hard for you since he has fucking shovels for hands). It's almost nonchalant, almost absent minded to any onlookers. But his heart skips a beat every time you squeeze his hand, tightens but follows you whenever you pull away because you saw something on the store display. Not as openly affectionate as Kyle or Johnny but will occasionally (every chance he gets) pull your hand up and press a kiss to your knuckles. If there's a ring, he'll kiss the ring, if not, he's thinking about getting you the ring.

Anyone else think that the CoD characters hold hands with their SO’s in certain ways?

[ikeu05]

PUPPY LOVE ✮ MUST HAVE ITS DAY

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 where you have liked riki for so long, you fail to see how down bad he is for you

── riki x fem!reader 1.9k fluff friends to lvrs ─ making out skinship riki being down bad school themes a little crack because riki is down bad lmaooo

there was a time when yn liked riki. he was her seatmate—funny, sharp-tongued and just a little too smug for his own good. in the beginning, it had been harmless banter, passing notes during class, arguing over pens and playlists. but then it started to feel like something else. something warmer. something that made her heart flutter when he looked at her for a second too long.

everyone else had noticed too. her friends would nudge her whenever he lingered beside her, smirking like he knew something she didn’t. “he definitely likes you,” they’d say, but yn wasn’t sure.

riki was insufferable. one moment he was teasing her like she was just another classmate, and the next he’d say something soft, something almost tender, like he cared. it was exhausting trying to figure him out. and eventually, yn stopped trying. she told herself she didn’t like him anymore.

then came the karaoke thing in class. some kind of end-of-term bonding activity their teacher thought would be fun. most people didn’t take it seriously, but yn had gotten a little too into it, and she knew riki would too. when heartbreak anniversary started playing—his favorite—she could already see the grin forming on his face. it was one of those songs that got stuck in your head, even if you didn’t want it to.

as the chorus approached, yn tapped his shoulder and smiled up at him. he looked at her, eyes lighting up like he’d been waiting for that exact moment, and smiled back. without saying a word, they both broke into that silly tiktok-style choreography, half-mocking, half-serious. it was stupid. it was cute. it was them.

but then the last line of the song came, and right before it ended, riki leaned over and kissed her cheek.

yn froze. her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. he just… went back to his seat like nothing had happened. like he hadn’t just scrambled her entire brain with that one quick, soft, maddening kiss.

she didn’t know what to do with it, with him. so after the class ended, she found him near the lockers and cornered him. “why did you do that?” she asked, brows furrowed and arms folded tightly across her chest.

riki gave a half-shrug, like it hadn’t meant anything. “i don’t know. it was an in-the-moment thing, i guess.”

“you’re so annoying,” yn snapped, turning on her heel to walk away, but before she could take more than a few steps, he caught her wrist.

“wait,” he said, voice quieter now. “did you want me to?”

she paused. only turning her head to look at him, her fingers curled slightly in his grip, unsure.

“maybe,” she said.

that was all it took. riki leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow, just like in the movies. yn stood frozen at first, her thoughts racing faster than her heartbeat. but then, almost instinctively, she kissed him back. it was tentative at first, nervous. but riki smiled into it, pulling away just slightly, his eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes.

“you like me back,” he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting between hers, so soft it made her melt right there.

yn blinked, dazed. her heart fluttered wildly at the way he was looking at her—sweet, adoring, like he’d been waiting forever for this. slowly, she nodded, still caught in his gaze. but then his words fully registered in her head.

“wait… back? you like me?” she gasped, taking a step back in disbelief. “you like me?”

riki raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “is that not obvious by now?”

“well, yeah, i guess? but i’m a bit slow so…” she trailed off with an awkward laugh before stepping forward and kissing him again, more sure this time. she only moved her arms to his neck when he kissed back while his found her waist, drawing her closer. he smiled into the kiss, his fingers brushing gently along her side, like he couldn’t quite believe it was real either.

it was sweet. it was perfect.

until—

a loud throat clear.

“both of you. principal’s office. now.”

they froze mid-kiss. yn pulled away in horror to see their teacher standing there, arms crossed and glaring at them with the full wrath of someone who had absolutely had enough of teenage romance.

“i’ve never been to the principal’s office before,” yn whispered in horror as she began fast-walking down the hallway. “and now i’m going because of PDA?!”

behind her, riki jogged to catch up. “w–wait! yn! slow down!”

she turned on him with wide, accusing eyes. “riki. what the hell.”

“heyyy,” he whined, holding up his hands, “how is this my fault?”

they reached the office, where the peon told them to wait. yn sat down, pointedly choosing the chair one seat away from him. she folded her arms and stared at the wall, furious and humiliated.

next to her, riki sighed, shifted, and then leaned closer. “baby, it’s okay,” he murmured. “they’re not actually going to do anything.”

yn turned to him, her face a mask of panic. “what if she vetoes my scholarship because of this?” she whispered.

to her dismay, riki actually chuckled. “she won’t. don’t you trust me?”

“i literally don’t,” yn deadpanned.

“well ouch,” he muttered with a grin, then gently took her hand in his. “but i promise you, yn. she won’t do that. just… calm down, okay?”

she looked at him, his thumb brushing comfortingly over her knuckles, and slowly nodded. “thanks,” she mumbled.

riki smiled, leaned in, and kissed her cheek. yn looked up at him and couldn’t help but return the smile, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips in return. but as she leaned in, his hands cupped her face, and before she knew it, they were kissing again—slow, dreamy, and completely unaware of the world around them.

until—

“oh my god, yn. do you have no shame?”

they pulled apart instantly. yn shot up from her seat, aggressively wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her uniform blazer. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, oh my god, i didn’t mean— i’m sorry—”

the principal shook her head in disappointment and walked into her office without another word.

yn turned to riki, panicking again. “what am i gonna do now?” she hissed, then scrambled in after the principal, shoulders hunched.

inside, the principal sat behind her desk with a deep sigh. “look. the least i can do is suspend you for a week.”

yn’s jaw dropped. “no. no, no, no. i can’t have a suspension on my record, please— please, i swear i didn’t mean—”

“i’m sorry, yn,” the principal said firmly. “i never expected this from you. riki…” She paused, then muttered under her breath, “…eh, it was only a matter of time.”

“ma’am!!” riki exclaimed, stepping forward. “please, cancel my sports scholarship instead. just don’t suspend her. i’ll take the punishment.”

yn gasped. “riki…”

the principal blinked at him. “oh wow. uh. i mean… it’s not that serious, but… sure? if you insist.” she waved them off. “you’re both free to go.”

as soon as they stepped outside, yn turned to him, eyes wide, and threw her arms around his neck. “thank you,” she said over and over again, clutching him tightly. “thank you, thank you, thank you—”

riki laughed, squeezing her back. “anything for you, cutie,” he murmured with a smirk, brushing his nose against her cheek.

yn pulled back just enough to look at him. “you’re insane,” she whispered.

he grinned, forehead meeting hers in a soft bump, “only for you.” his lips softly touched all over her face, kissing her forehead, cheeks, nose, the corner of her lips over and over.

they stood in the empty hallway, the door to the principal’s office still swinging slightly behind them. yn was pressed against riki, her arms looped loosely around his neck, his forehead resting gently against hers as they caught their breath. her heart was still thumping like a drum inside her chest—half from the giggling due to the kiss frenzy, half from the sheer disaster they’d just barely escaped.

riki was smiling. that same boyish, dimple-showing grin he got when he knew he was being a little shit but also knew she could never stay mad at him.

“you gave up your sports scholarship, you idiot,” yn whispered, pulling back just slightly to look at him.

he tilted his head. “well, yeah. worth it though.”

“for a kiss?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“for you,” he said, so simply and sincerely that her knees almost gave out.

yn stared at him for a beat, her expression softening despite herself. “god, you’re down bad.”

“down catastrophic,” riki confirmed proudly.

she laughed and leaned in again, resting her head against his chest. “i’ve literally never gotten in trouble at school before,” she mumbled into his uniform shirt. “and now i have a reputation because of you.”

“you mean we have a reputation,” he corrected, wrapping his arms around her. “power couple energy. bonnie and clyde. jail time but cute.”

“shut up,” she groaned, laughing again, her fingers clutching the sleeve of his blazer tighter, almost crumpling it under her touch.

they stood there for a moment, tangled up in each other in the quiet corridor, before yn peeked up at him. “wait. are you seriously okay with them revoking your scholarship?”

riki shrugged. “they won’t. she was bluffing.”

“she wasn’t,” yn insisted.

“well then, worth it,” he said again, eyes twinkling. “besides, now i have leverage.”

yn raised a brow. “leverage?”

“you owe me, obviously.”

“oh god. what’s the price?”

riki grinned. “let me walk you home every day. and carry your books. and hold your hand. and maybe kiss you once in a while if you’re okay with it.”

“that’s your ransom?” she asked, half-laughing, half-swooning.

he leaned closer, eyes flickering to her lips again. “i’m a simple man.”

yn rolled her eyes but smiled, her hands reaching up to fix his slightly crumpled up collar “you’re ridiculous.”

“you like ridiculous,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

she sighed dramatically “unfortunately.”

then they heard footsteps and immediately jumped apart, pretending to stare at their lockers as if they hadn’t just made out and nearly been suspended for it. riki looked over at her, biting back a grin “this is so unserious,” he whispered.

yn muttered under her breath, peeling away the fading sticker of an apple on her locker “i swear if i lose my scholarship, i’m breaking up with you before we even start dating.”

“too late,” riki said, slipping his pinky into hers as they walked down the hallway. “you kissed me twice. that’s legally binding.”

“you kissed me first,” she said.

“on the cheek. you upgraded it.”

she bumped his shoulder with hers “you’re the worst.”

but she was smiling again.

he looked down at her with the softest gaze, like she was his favorite thing to look at. “i kinda think you’re the best.”

and yn? well, she was so not ready to admit it out loud, but she was kind of starting to think he might be right.

especially when he stopped in the middle of the corridor, looked at her, and whispered, “can i kiss you again? i won’t do it in front of teachers, promise.”

her chest flipped, and before she could even answer, she was already leaning in again.

maybe she was slow—but she wasn’t stupid.

nessie 🗯️ based of off a dream i had like 2 years ago 😭😭 i was reading my dream diary and decided to write this heheheh cutie riki is best riki 😚

tag𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 drop a comment down or send me an ASK to be a part of my taglist <3

[cxnicalcherub]

“is that another one of your porn books?”

the smell of tobacco and old leather wafts into your nose as jason leans over your shoulder, a dark eyebrow cocked as his green eyes look down at the book in your hand. a soft piano melody plays through the aisle of the bookstore you’re in. probably one of the composers he likes to listen to at home, given the way his finger taps against his thigh along with the measure of the song. and though no one else is in the section with you two, you still feel the embarrassment of someone possibly overhearing him.

you playfully smack him with the hardcover, then motion towards the book he has tucked under his arm. “is that another limited edition of wuthering heights?”

he shrugs. “in my defense, emily is the best brontë sister.”

you feign offense with a mock gasp. “i know you did not just diss my girl jane eyre. besides, you’re only saying that because you love hareton.”

“he deserved his own book!”

“i know, baby.”

“he wanted to learn to read for her…”

“i know, baby.”

with a mischievous glint in his forest eyes and the reflexes of cat on adderall, jason snatches your book out of your grip, swatting away at your hands and protests as he flips to a random page and begins to skim through it.

“jay—”

“so what’s this one about?” he asks, completely ignoring your whine. “werewolves? fairies? an adult modern retelling of a classic children’s tale and the pirate is now a mafia boss with a gun fetish?”

“jay, i swear to god—”

“it’s rude to swear.”

“jason—”

and, of course, because jason wouldn’t be jason if he didn’t get on your nerves at least once during an outing together, he decides to hold the book above your head, just out of reach, a low rumbling laugh reverberating in his chest. he lets you try to jump and plead and bargain your way into getting your book back, a shit-eating grin on his face the entire time, and sometimes he even lowers it enough to allow your fingers to graze it before snatching it up again. you quietly curse and pout the entire time, and all he can think about is how he wants to be able to annoy you like this for a long, long time.

he does give the book back eventually. after a worker walks by and smiles in a way that lets jason know he’s being perceived fondly by someone that isn’t you, and he hates the way his skin crawls at it.

when he goes to pay for both of your stacks of books (he always acts so appalled whenever you offer to, and after he embarrassed you in front of a different bookstore clerk by sighing and huffing throughout the entire interaction, you gave up that fight), you’re delighted to see that it was, in fact, a limited edition of wuthering heights tucked under his arm earlier. this, in turn, leads to you teasing him as you two walk out of the store, to which he teases you about the fact that you bought the first three books to a series you haven’t even read just because the covers were pretty.

“i thought we weren’t supposed to judge a book by its cover,” he challenges you.

you easily counter with, “they wouldn’t make the covers so pretty if we weren’t meant to judge them.”

“did you judge me by my cover?”

“i found you cursing like a sailor and bleeding out by a garbage bin behind a walgreens.”

“and that’s a hollywood-worthy love story according to gotham standards.”

the banter between you two continues as you walk into the coffee shop you always pop into after bookstore trips, and both of you put in your orders between smartass quips and razor-sharp comebacks. jason tries to stealthily slide the barista his card while you defend your choice in literature, but you easily swat his hand away and offer your card instead without breaking eye contact.

once your drinks are ready to go, you both venture off to the park with the pretty, giant tree you love to read and sip under.

(“a weeping katsura tree,” jason had informed you when you first took him to the spot months and months ago. “they’re native to japan and china, but they can grow pretty much anywhere they’re planted as long as the soil is well-drained.”

you blinked at him. “how do you know these things?”

“doesn’t everybody?”)

jason watches as you settle yourself against the trunk of the tree, drink in hand while your book sits in your lap, and he can’t help but think that this is what all of the love songs are all about.

they’re about going on monthly bookstore dates with someone that matches him witty comment for witty comment.

they’re about being able to tease you about your taste in books, and you knowing that’s his way of saying, “i know what you like because i see you and i love you”.

they’re about having to compromise about who gets to pay for the books and who gets to pay for the coffee because both of you want to spoil each other and neither of you know how to give up.

they’re about sitting under a weeping katsura tree together, your head on his shoulder while you read your book and he pretends to read his but, really, he’s just watching the way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks.

they’re about the way you always always always kiss him when he gets back from patrol.

they’re about you knowing when he and bruce had another argument by the way his jaw is set and how quiet he gets when you ask him how his night went.

they’re about how you brush your lips over his knuckles and whisper, “i love you no matter what.” before falling asleep tucked under his arm.

“how’s your book, baby?” you ask him.

he has to blink a few times to remember that he’s supposed to be reading, and takes a sip of his iced black americano to give him time to think of a reply. “eh, you know how it goes. they meet in a café and fall in love. there’s probably an estranged rich uncle somewhere in the mix.”

you turn to face him, an incredulous expression on your face, and look at the book on his hands. “all of that happens in, what, the first forty pages of the wasp factory?”

oh, so that’s the book he’s supposed to be reading. he’s pretty sure it’s a horror book too, which makes his fake review of the plot so far even less believable. fuck. he decides to take the conversation off of himself instead of giving you the satisfaction of admitting he was too busy thinking about how sickly in love with you he is to read.

“how’s your werewolf-fairy-pirate-mafia-boss man book going?”

you scoff. “he is not…whatever the hell you just said. he’s a hockey player.”

“and they’re fucking, right?”

you swat the book at him, your lips pursed. “they are not fucking.”

he grins. “but they will fuck.”

you sigh in defeat at the knowing smile on his face and sink back against his shoulder, fully resigned. “they might fuck. i’m not sure yet. she’s pretty adamant about not fucking but he thinks he can win her over.”

he rests his cheek against your head and pulls you a bit closer to him. “he should try offering to teach her how to set trip wire around her apartment just in case someone tries to break in. worked for me.”

“jay, i only let you do that because you came crashing into my apartment at 4 in the afternoon fully ready to murder someone.”

“you didn’t reply to my text.”

“i was taking a nap—”

oh yes, this is exactly what stephen sanchez had in mind while he wrote until i found you.

—

“would you love me if i was the orphan nephew of the man who was in love with your mother, beat into being an uneducated farmworker, and then tried to destroy all of your books because i was insecure about being uneducated?”

“jason, my love, it is 3 in the morning. i am begging you to get some sleep.”

“…is that a no?”

“i think i’m going to haunt emily brontë in the afterlife.”

[alchemyfreak321]

Recently my cousin got engaged, his fiancee got him a watch and he got her a gold chain. Which they put on eachother in front of their families and bada-bing bada-boom they're engaged! Because in my culture we don't really have engagement rings (atleast we didn't, it's becoming more of a thing with the newer gen). Anyway, all this to say, it got me wondering how the 141 would propose and with what kind of ring. So here are some more headcannons!

Price - no point in reinventing the wheel, the man is a traditionalist. He'll get permission from your dad, then plan out a romantic dinner, probably at the same restaurant he took you on your first date, and get down on one knee and present you with his great-great-grandmothers ring. And it's probably giant sapphire or emerald with a cluster of diamonds around it and a simple gold band, a real vintage victorian ring.

Gaz - spends months secretly prying details of your dream ring and proposal out of you. You don't even realize what you've told him. After he gets all the info, he designs it himself. Delicate band in the metal you always wear, with the stone you he saw you looking at one too many times and cut you mentioned offhandedly. As for the actual engagement, he gets permission from your parents and your best friend then he takes you to the beach, park or the grand canyon, somewhere real picturesque. And even though he seems perfectly suave on the outside, he's a nervous wreck on the inside. Has the 141 on site for moral support, feeding him advice and jokes through the discreet ear piece. Price herding away other visitors, Ghost standing guard making sure no other visitors go near the area and Soap in the bushes with bff and a camera, ready to capture the moment.

Ghost - okay I imagine him as a huge fantasy nerd, and the biggest lord of the rings fan. Something something bad childhood and escapism. He doesn't get you a engagement ring, he just straight up designs matching wedding bands. He wears them both along with his dogtags until he is ready to propose. And he was ready to propose he heard about others elaborate proposals and engagement rings. He hadn't planned any funfairs, he just wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. But now he's wondering if he's depriving you of a whirlwind romance with someone who could give you more stability and less baggage. And he pulls away, trying to plan an elaborate proposal but nothing feels right. One day, after a particularly bad deployment, you come over with takeout, snacks and the extended edition of the lord of the rings. You don't ask anything or say anything, just start the movie and cuddle up on the couch with him. As he watches you tear up watching Boromir defend the hobbits, the rings burns a hole on his skin. He decides he can't wait anymore. He pulls the rings out and wordlessly slips it on your ring finger and kisses away your surprise. "Marry me." He whispers against your lips when you finally pull away. When you agree and tackle kiss him on the couch, he lets out a sigh of relief, letting out the tension he didn't realize he was holding. Later when you exam the simple band you notice there's a inscription etched on the inside. "I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone."

Soap - the man fell in love when you first smiled at him, said the three words after you two first slept together and was ready to propose after the third date. He actually did ask you to marry him after the third date but you thought he was joking. He wasn't though, he went back home during one of his leaves and begged his mother to give him the family ring. He has the ring with him when he enters the London tunnels.

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Price, who runs most of the businesses in the city you live in, but everyone local knows it's all to hide his ... shadier dealings.

(part 2)

You, who only know him by his reputation and not to see, have no idea who the nice man you meet in a club one night really is.

And he's so charming at first, with just the right edge of rough that you like.

By the end of the night, you've had enough to drink that you don't question why he has a back-office in the club. You just let him lay you out on his couch and settle between your legs.

Only come to your senses when you wake up a few hours later, snuggled close to a bare chest. Slip back into your dress and grab your dress before sneaking out. And as you turn to quietly click the door shut, you see the tiny placard on the door.

J. Price.

"John," he'd rasped into your ear, buried inside you. "Call me John, darlin'. Say my fuckin' name, there's a good girl."

You vow never to see him again, are sure he won't mind - it's just a one-night-stand, after all.

Until, a few months later, when, after a job, him and his boys stop at a diner for some food and you happen to be his waitress.

You beg your colleagues to take the table for you but they all take one look at the men and pointblank refuse.

When you finally dredge up the courage to approach the table, John looks up and immediately smiles at you.

It's only when his eyes drop to the small, but prominent, bump under your shirt that his smile fades and you know you're in trouble.

[castiwls]

please - a.d

Pairing; art x reader

Warnings; None

Notes; working on reqs rn :)

masterlist

"I know you told me three times already,” Art shifted slightly, his chin resting on your abdomen. “but can you say it one more time please?" His eyes were soft as he gazed up at you, a small frown pulling on the edges of his lips.

His words pulled your attention from the book in your hands and you hummed softly. He stared up at you expectantly as you watched him for a moment, you honestly thought he’d fallen asleep soon after you’d opened your book but apparently not. 

Art watched you for a moment, his face hardening ever so slightly before he reached over to take the book from you. He placed it on the bed before gently grasping your hand which now lay limp at your side and pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

His lips lingered for a moment, the smell of your perfume invading his senses. “Please.” He murmured dropping your hand. Your other hand found its way into his hair as your fingers gently ran through it. A tired smile grew on his lips as he continued to stare up at you, his eyes full of adoration. 

“I love you.” Your voice was barely a whisper yet his smile only seemed to grow as a hand squeezed at your waist. A warm feeling ran through his body as your words played over in his head. You loved him.

Content, Art hummed before leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your hip.

Maybe his wife didn’t love him in the way he wanted, but you did.

[witerh]

Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart! || husband re:di daddy!leon

NSFW!

warnings: porn with a plot, fluff and smut, comfort, cook in the kitchen, blowjob, face riding, cunnilingus, pet names: «baby girl», «princess», «baby»

note: Happy Valentine's Day to you! I admired the idea of one of the drabbles, so thanks to the author for the idea! (I lost it, eh)

rating: mature

summary: you wakes up early to make you two breakfast so that it makes him happy on valentine's day after his mission!

all rights reserved!|| valentine's day event!!

With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying near you.

You start the night laying on his chest, but after turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position.

You thrived on the feeling of his heavy palms on the yours body, his nose snuggled deep into the crook of your neck, hot breath burns your sensitive skin and his herculean arms wrapped around you enough so that you weren’t going anywhere; not on this morning.

His snoring was not quiet, but you learned to love it. It become the music to your ears with the opening of eyes.

And it only takes you a few seconds for it to get it. A couple of flutters of eyelashes and awakening came with the thought that this it...

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You smiled weakly, excited about all things you have planned for Leon. It was necessary to part with the warm bed and sneak out of the bedroom (don't forgot about softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen.

You weren’t too worried, though. Leon didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did. You were safe. You start listing in your head all the things you wanted to make for him.

You were a jack of all trades in the kitchen. He loved coming home from missions, leaving his bike helmet to the side while he reached out to you as you cooked a hot dinner. His mouth is already watering at the sight of the warm plate on the kitchen table.

Gratitude in the form of a juicy kiss on the lips. Oh, shit!

You slave away in the kitchen, frying the wafers and topping them with cream and sliced strawberries, making sure everything was perfect.

You go to check on the sleeping husband. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow.

You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view: his dark hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge dick tightening his briefs.

You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good.

You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals… It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.

You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Leon , who’s still asleep.

You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor. You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up.

You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan. Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.

You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support. You start to feel Leon‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow. His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use.

You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.

This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him. Faint «mmhm's» were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing. You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.

You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a wet pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.

"Well," his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, "Good morning to you too, —… Mmfuck." He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein.

You pull away with a wet smack before saying: "Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy", in the most sing song tone of voice. Leon tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, "Hey baby, so thoughtful good to me…do that again..." he pleads. "Oh!"

"Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it. "Oh-oh fuck… yeah, just like that, princess, go-o-od girl-l-l..." his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.

You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp, gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again.

“Aw shit…. I’m close, baby, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princess…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.

You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, "Open," and you do as he asks, "ehh, so-o good girlie!"

You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, "Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo—"

“Whoa-whoa-whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”

You fall into the bed again, Leon guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he mumbles against your lips. He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere, pretty.”

He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your «throne».

Placing your hands on his body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Leon’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view. “So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a plushie.

“You are such a beauty, you know that, baby? Wanna make you feel good, baby.”

“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.

If Leon could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world.

Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again. One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips. "Prettiest pussy ever. Fuck, you’re so wet, princess, did I do that?"

You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole. "Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.

"But Leon—" He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, baby." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy. Leon is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side.

His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his «mmph» the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.

Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Leon wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you.

A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.

"L-leon…" sigh, "I-I can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop-don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body.

The only thing on your mind was Leon's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further. "Mmmph, fuck!... don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want,"

You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Leon was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.

“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you're,” smack, “wakin' me up like this…” smack. An octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.

Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Leon greedily drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for set weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Leon finally let you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths.

He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "Awww, my princess gets all shy when I make her cum, ehhh?" With Leon’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top.

Then he goes in for a romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his muscles against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you.

You can feel his cock twitch against your too much stimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does. "Happy Valentine’s Day, baby girl. Have I told you how much I love you?"

You manage a tired smile, “I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I completely forgot you must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.

He gently stops you, and you lay back near him.

"Baby, I think I was very hungry before, but you fed me."

[rafeslittlepup]

sexist!rafe in an alpha male podcast

the host introduces him like he’s bringing on a navy seal, “today’s guest is… well, he’s hard to describe, man. real estate mogul, former golden boy, some say menace, rafe cameron. he’s got opinions, he’s jacked, and apparently he doesn’t let his wife use microwaves.”

rafe leans into the mic, he doesn’t say hello. he nods. first ten minutes and he’s already saying stuff like: “masculinity isn’t toxic. soy is.”

“if your wife’s tired, you’re doing something wrong, or not doing her enough.”

“i don’t discipline my sons. i raise warriors.”

so the host tries to steer things gently, “so what’s your day to day like?”

“up at 5:00am. cold plunge. eggs. raw liver. i kiss my lovely wife. all four kids are already dressed, you know, matching outfits, my wife handles that. i don’t touch laundry. that’s her kingdom.”

he then casually name-drops marcus aurelius and some twitter “author” in the same sentence while adjusting his patek phillip and talking about “the collapse of the nuclear family.”

thirty minutes in, he’s downed his cold water, chewed a zinc tablet raw, and told a story about “earning his wife’s purity.”

“she had a promise ring of course… i replaced it with a rock the size of a baby tooth when she was 19.”

they spiral into a full hour on seed oils, school indoctrination, and why he thinks testosterone is sacred. rafe says the words “God’s values,” “homestead,” and “virginity restoration” in under 30 seconds.

then, the final stretch, “you ever worry people think you’re, uh… intense?”

but rafe stays calm “some people call me intense, but my wife packs my lunch in a hello kitty apron and she wears my last name like a badge of honor. so no, i don’t worry.”

the host claps, twitter explodes, reader gets like 20k new followers overnight on tiktok, some say the episode is banned in five countries. others say rafe started a cult without realizing.