#narrowing it down was a time but i was like oh what shows have lived in my mind rent free the most over my years of living and here they are

[tulipsforvin]

if you dont mind me requesting another... may i request where the s/o reader is a noble with a really kind heart, like she owns a bakery and she loves to give pastries or breads to the peasants for free, and another noble didn't like it and burn the bakery down? how would the brothers react? you can do it with any of the moriarty brothers! sorry if its too detailed :]

NOBLE F!READER'S BAKERY BURNS DOWN ✦

🌷: reactions featuring the moriarty brothers

🌷: why have only 1 when you can have all 3? this is so unnecessary but i thought i'd spoil you (all) a bit. p.s you're fine, don't worry :)

⚠️: CW! slight desc of gore in william's part, skip if uncomfortable.

WILLIAM J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was the kindness you had that had him first crawling to you. being a noble you could have done many things; plan extravagant balls and tea parties, spend money on all sorts of items. but instead you opened a bakery, giving away baked goods for free. he had become distressingly attracted to you.

william's red glaring and gleaming eyes could be seen from miles away. he thought he'd drop by your workplace during his lunch break from university. he thought he'd enjoy a small meal and a small conversation with you, but instead he had to watch from feet apart as final, dying embers fell to the ground. the bakery that you and he loved was gone.

“will—” you sobbed, practically falling apart in your lover's arms. you had worked incredibly hard for this, only for all your blood, sweat and tears to be turned to ashes at the mere tantrum of an angered man.

“oh, my love.” william cooed sympathetically. his fingers tightened around you. he was quiet, but his narrowed eyes and tight jaw was enough to indicate what was about to happen in the near future.

over the next few days, which had not really took that long at all—he was able to track down the noble who had dared ruined your efforts and made you cry.

a man as corrupt as the noble who had burned down your bakery was more than enough to irk him. making you cry was another contributing factor to tip him off. just as the man unable to tolerate the warmth of kindness that you provided, william set all of his means of income ablaze. and just as blind he was to dismiss the happiness that appeared on the common people's faces, he made sure to gouge out the man's eyes so that he could see nothing at all.

and perhaps he might have gone a little overboard with his ways in his wrath—but he reasoned that if it were the divine themselves who brought forth tears from your eyes, not even the depths of damnation could hold him back from extracting retribution on your behalf. nobody could, would or should harm you.

ALBERT J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— during every visit of his to the orphanages he would find you already there, distributing all kinds of pastries and bread to the little kids. he found your kindness and charitable personality extremely charming. he had fallen in love with you.

fast forward to a few months and he had already begun wooing you. imagine his anger as he watched the happy-go-lucky and overall wonderful person he'd fallen deeply in love with lose their smile once their bakery had been burned at the hands of a dirty noble.

albert wouldn't just stand by. he was subtle—wore a charming smile but used his expert tongue to slowly chip away at the respect others had of the noble. it was backhanded compliments at first, then small insults that he brushed off as a joke, and then full on accusations as public opinion of him began to dive low at an alarmingly fast rate.

by the time he was done the noble was stripped from all respect and sympathy, forced to live an isolated life from others and unable to show face to anybody ever again.

of course he wouldn't stop at just that, though. he holds out his hand at you, warm and enveloping fingers wrapping around you as he pulls you up from your sadness. (and he always will). “how about i chip in enough funds to help you rebuild your bakery?”

“no, you already do enough for me anyway.” it would be extremely expensive. you possibly couldn't ask him to do this, but he seemed to have other plans.

albert smiles, voice teasing but comforting all the same. “then, how about this; i pay for all the repairs and you let me eat for free whenever in the future?”

LOUIS J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was a secret but sometimes louis went out of his way to see you. even if the sun had already begun to set he would walk an extra mile to buy grocery from a grocery shop that was situated right besides your bakery. on several occasions he would watch you, in all your kindness, feed the mouths that came to you and it honestly warmed his heart to no degree.

with a few pushes from his brothers he had finally began dating you. he loved you dearly and everybody knew he became violently devoted when he loved.

now if we push aside the obvious assassination attempts on that "imbecile of a man" (his words, not mine) by louis and his colleagues trying to hold him back, he's actually quite tame. again, only if we push aside the homicidal factors like the anonymous death threats and the bloody knives sent to the noble.

with a little help from his brothers, you're back on your own feet again (louis sacrificed the noble's legs in exchange). and louis even drops by every now and then to help you with baking and other works!

“do you need help with that?” he looks at you from behind your shoulder, watching you do your work.

“nope, i'm fine.” you smile up at him but he still grabs the batter from you and does it in your stead.

“how about you go sit down and enjoy a glass of cold juice or something similar of the sort?” he says calmly, already putting on an extra apron.

and in the end, you oblige as louis guides you out the room. because at the end of the day, not everybody can make lemon tarts as good as he does anyway.

[acourtofquietdreamers]

✨Elriel moments: love languages edition✨

Acts of service:

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once.

“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”

But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.

Words of Affirmation:

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said.

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Quality Time:

“Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea

Gift Giving:

“Az, this one’s for you.” The shadowsinger’s brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.” Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed—“I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. "Here." … Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..." He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse.

He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her. Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around. The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Physical Touch:

Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.

He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.

Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.

Based on these, I think Elain mostly shows love with gift giving/words of affirmation while Azriel is acts of service/quality time. I’m sure they both love physical touch coming from the right person 😉

[thedeadthree]

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TAGGED BY @nightbloodraelle, @minaharkers and @statichvm to post eight of my favorite tv shows! ty ty so much loves!

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.

He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.

But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.

He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”

He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.

He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.

“I’ll take care of you.”

König

“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.

“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”

You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.

“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”

König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.

“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.

“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.

“Mean.”

He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.

“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.

“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”

Soap

“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.

Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.

Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.

From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.

“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”

He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.

His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.

His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.

“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”

Valeria

Corruption kink to the MAX

Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.

And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.

Alters her brain chemistry permanently.

There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.

So why shouldn’t she own you, too?

Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.

She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.

But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.

“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”

Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.

“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”

Price

Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.

But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.

In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.

Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.

The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.

“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.

“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.

“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”

He’s angling for something. His face says it all.

He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.

His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.

“Probably looking for someone with experience.”

He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a  heavy stare.

“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I’ve got plenty to spare.”

Horangi

You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.

“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”

He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.

Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.

Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.

He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.

You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.

How much he’s trying to restrain himself.

“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.

“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.

“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”

Alejandro

“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.

“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”

Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.

God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.

“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”

Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.

He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.

His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.

“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”

Rodolfo

“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.

“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”

In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.

Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.

But he sees his chance. And he takes it.

“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”

His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a  man in such a brutal line of work.

Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.

Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.

That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…

Graves

“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”

Graves sure has a way with words.

For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.

He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.

“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.

“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”

He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.

He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.

“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.

“And last.”

Gaz

Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.

See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.

He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.

He remembers what Soap taught him, though.

Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.

Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.

“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”

He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !

At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.

“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”

Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. Valentine's day special. Sukuna gets your daughter to help him out on your first Valentine's Day together

cw: none really, maybe too much fluff?

"Alright, sweetheart, you got this?"

Your daughter nods her head, her determination so reminiscent of you that Sukuna falls a little harder in love.

"When I say, princess, you're going to...."

"Come to the livin' room with the box," your daughter recites faithfully and Sukuna nods.

"And you know what you're going to say to mommy?"

Bug nods again and he's kissing her cheek in adoration when he hears an annoying groan.

"Oh my god, how much longer is this going to take," Yuuji complains while he holds up one end of a long string of twinkly lights, one of his uninvited friends holding the other end.

"I can't believe getting pussy has turned you into this," Fugisaki says from where she is arranging some flowers on the coffee table, shaking her head as if she knows a fucking thing.

"It is a lot."

He says less, but somehow Fushiguro's condemnation of his behavior pisses him off the most. Sukuna picks up his daughter while he walks over to where his little brother is on a ladder.

"If you mother fuckers don't stop cursing around my kid, I'm going to knock you on your fucking asses."

Yuuji looks down at him, unconcerned. "Dude, you just cursed like a million times."

Sukuna kicks over the ladder and Yuuji falls, bringing down the lights him and Fushiguro had been hanging for the past half hour.

The other boy looks over at them, green eyes furious. "For fuck's sake-"

"Oy, what did I say about swearing in front of my fucking kid?"

"I can't believe you're about to get a woman to marry you," Fugisaki says, standing up and tilting her head to look over the decor that wasn't just ripped from the walls.

"I will call Zenin and tell her that you cried while stalking her instagram when she had that away tournament when you were on a break."

Her head snaps up and she narrows her eyes at him. "You wouldn't."

"I recorded a video," Sukuna says, pulling out his phone while Bug giggles on his hip,

"If you do that, I'll tell your girlfriend that you wrecked her apartment so she'd have no choice but to move in with you," she tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sukuna turns to glare at Yuuji. "Snitch!"

"Don't do sketchy ass shit and I won't have things to snitch on," Yuuji says, rubbing his back which had landed right on the floor.

Sukuna and Kugisaki stare at one another until he puts the phone away and she looks smug.

"Finish decorating and then get the fuck out of my apartment."

"Fuck!"

Everyone turns to look at the little girl who had just said her first swear word. Fushiguro is pressing his fingers to his temple like he's the one who's going to get in trouble for this. Yuuji and Kugisaki look delighted.

"You're so fucked, dude," the brat tells him and Sukuna sighs.

"Let's go practice in the other room, sweetheart," Sukuna says to his now fouled mouth daughter. "We'll let the help finish up over here."

Sukuna ignores three separate cries of "Hey!" and hopes that your daughter drops her newly acquired vocab before you come home.

"Alright, when I say princess...."

---------

When you walk in and see the apartment, you look excited if a little suspicious.

"What's all this? I thought you said Valentine's Day was a corporate conspiracy to take money from losers who should have been weeded out from natural selection."

"This isn't about Valentine's Day," Sukuna tells you and you hum as you take off your jacket and put your stuff by the door.

"Okay, just a coincidence then?"

"Sort of," Sukuna concedes and then pulls you towards him, your eyes looking around at the twinkle lights that have been placed all around your living room. There's flowers on the table, not roses because he wasn't corny, he'd gotten a mix of your favorites and you look pleased in that way you did whenever he did something that showed he paid attention to you.

"So what's the special occasion?"

The long answer was, it was in part because of Valentine's Day, but it was something he'd known was coming since the day he'd met you.

Bug had written many cards in the week leading up to Valentine's Day, everyone in your lives had gotten one. Sukuna had been proud to have received more than anyone, aside from you. Uncle Yuuji had pouted he'd only gotten two until Kugisaki had punched him, saying she'd only gotten one and she'd had to share it with her girlfriend.

The card that had started this whole chain of events had looked like any other. A heart clearly cut out by an adult, colored varying shades of red and green, Bug's favorite colors at the moment. On the inside, it had said, Happy Valentine's Day Daddy!

Happy Valentine's Day Daddy.

The words had been written by an adult, but Sukuna wondered what had happened to get them there. Had the teachers made the same card for everyone, which seemed rather obtuse even to him, or had Bug requested a card for him. For her dad.

Bug still called him 'Kuna, and he didn't mind. She was young and you had only been together for a little over a month. He didn't expect things to change overnight and considering the little girl had already lost one father, he could understand if she was hesitant to use the title again.

But it was there, in writing, and Sukuna just couldn't wait anymore for it to be true.

He had been so pleased that the two of you were officially together that he hadn't pushed for more. He had thrown around words like forever and wife, more than once and you seemed receptive but those words had stayed mostly in the bedroom.

The two of you were even trying for a baby, although that was another thing that remained mostly behind closed doors. Sukuna hadn't given this part of his plan much thought, but he had assumed that once you were pregnant, it would be a quick matter to convince you to marry him and put his ring on you so you could never escape him with a child and the law to bond you two together.

Getting you knocked up could take months though, even giving it as much effort as he was every night and he didn't want to wait anymore. He wanted to call you his wife and Bug his daughter. He wanted to call you his in front of the few people he didn't actively hate and he wanted to know that when he woke up, you would be there too.

So here he was, in the apartment you both shared, holding your hands in his, seeing what they looked like without his ring for hopefully the last time.

"Sukuna?"

"I'm getting there, be patient," he told you leaning in to kiss you. You responded eagerly and you leaned up so he had easier access to your mouth. Keeping in mind the little girl definitely listening in, he pulled back. He took a second to appreciate the way your eyes were almost hazy with desire and the way your lips look freshly kissed.

"I need to be the impatient one tonight," he says and he gives you one last kiss just to savor you. "I can't wait any longer, princess."

There's a quick pause and you look a little confused, mostly curious, when the door to your daughter's room opens and your little girl steps out. She's dressed in a beautiful white dress. She'd picked it out when Sukuna had taken her shopping the day before and she had a crown of flowers on top of her head, courtesy of Kugisaki who Sukuna maybe hated a little less right now.

You smiled at your daughter and held out your arms for her to come to you and she did, holding her dress up as she ran to you.

"You look like a princess, my love."

"Imma princess, just like you," she says and you look at Sukuna fondly.

"Guess that's why we got such a charming prince with us, right?" You tease and Sukuna doesn't care how corny it is, this moment is just for your little family anyway.

"We got something to ask you," Sukuna says and he nods at Bug, who opens up a sparkly purse.

"You do?" You ask and he sees realization start to sink in. "Sukuna-"

Bug pulls out the box and holds it out to you. "Mommy, can 'Kuna be my daddy now?"

You look at the box and then look at Sukuna.

"Is this-?"

"Open it and see," Sukuna tells you and he reaches over to grab your daughter who giggles and he holds her tighter as she looks over at you.

You open the box and in it sits a ring. Sukuna had bought it before the two of you even started dating. He had seen it in the window of a shop and just known it would look beautiful on you. You bite your lip and your eyes begin to well up with tears.

"So? What do you say, princess? Marry me?"

You're crying now and he sees Bug start to get a little worried before you're smiling and leaning over to kiss Sukuna, your hands holding his face to yours. He grins against your mouth and uses his free arm to pull you closer, his whole world in his arms now.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Yay!" Bug cheers and you both kiss her face as she giggles and pushes against you.

You let Sukuna pull the ring from the box and put it on your finger, where it will stay forever if he has anything to say about it. You look at him in confusion when he holds his own hand out.

"There's another ring in that box for a reason," he teases and you look at him in confusion.

"Isn't this a ring for after you're married?"

"Well there aren't a lot of pretty engagement rings for men, but if you get to walk around showing everyone you're mine until we tie the knot, I want everyone to see I'm yours."

You start crying all over again and you put the golden band on Sukuna's finger and he can't help the pride he feels at the sight of it. The knowledge that everyone will look at it and know he belongs to you.

"We don't need to rush the wedding, it can be up to you," he tells you. "I'll marry you in the summer or the fall, or we can go to City Hall tomorrow and take the kid to honeymoon at Disney for all I care. I just want to be married to you."

You smile and then you look up at him shyly. 'Well we probably shouldn't wait too long."

He raises an eyebrow and then you put your hand on your stomach.

"We should probably do it before I start to show, don't you think?"

That's the end! Are you actually pregnant or are you just being cautious, who knows! Hope you enjoyed, I wrote like 2,000 words, deleted all of it after I wrote the scene at the beginning of this one. Is that me learning how to edit?

Appreciate all of your support always and hope you know you are loved and amazing today!

[msgexymunson]

The Code

Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 

Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 

A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.

6.2k words

Masterlist 

This must be the spot. 

You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 

Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 

A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 

“Hey, you leave me a note?” 

He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 

“Yeah, you OK?” 

He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 

“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 

“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 

He laughs, tipping his head back. 

“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 

Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 

You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 

After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 

“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 

“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 

“So, you got something for me?” 

Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.

Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 

“For you? Of course.” 

He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 

“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 

He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 

“Twenty?” 

Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 

“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”

You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.

“Such a gentleman.” 

Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 

“Here, twenty.” 

He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 

“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 

“Sure, why not.” 

You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 

“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 

“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 

“So, you're new? When did you start?” 

“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 

“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 

“Oh really? What did you do?” 

You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 

“What didn't I do?” 

He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 

You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 

The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 

“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 

“Huh?” 

“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 

He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 

Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 

“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 

“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 

Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 

“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 

“Yeah?” 

It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 

His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 

“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 

Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 

Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 

Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 

The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 

It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 

“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 

Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 

“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 

You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 

“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 

It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 

“Are you- for real?” 

You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 

“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 

“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 

“Swear? On what?” 

“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 

He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 

“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 

“Alright then, scouts honour?” 

“You were a girl scout?” 

“No.” 

He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 

“I swear on Ozzy.” 

Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 

“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 

You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 

“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 

Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 

“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 

You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 

********************

He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 

In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 

Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 

You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 

“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 

“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 

“And your last name is…?” 

“Henderson.”

“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 

“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 

“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.

“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 

You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 

“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 

“The one and only, sweetheart.” 

“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 

“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 

Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 

“Dustins gonna kill me.” 

Eddie shakes his head. 

“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 

“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 

Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 

“If you want me to go-” 

“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 

“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 

“Nope. You're too hot.” 

Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 

“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 

“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 

Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 

“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 

You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 

“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 

Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 

Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 

You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 

As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 

“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 

All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 

He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 

You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 

Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 

He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 

This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 

It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 

Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 

He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 

“Please, please, please-” 

The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 

Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 

Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 

He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 

He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 

His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 

“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 

“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 

“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 

He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 

“Fuck, you are a dream.” 

His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 

“Bedroom?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 

He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 

In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 

Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 

“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 

“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 

You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 

Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 

His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 

“Fuck stop stop, please.” 

He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 

“You OK there champ?” 

“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 

He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 

Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 

Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 

You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 

“No. Leave them on.” 

It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 

He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 

“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 

“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 

In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 

“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 

His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 

“Do you have protection?”

“I'm on the pill, is that-” 

It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 

Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 

“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 

The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 

Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 

“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 

Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 

“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 

Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 

The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 

Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 

Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 

It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.

“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 

“Please cum in me.”

Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 

“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 

Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 

“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 

You laugh, kissing his cheek.

“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 

“I can take care of you-”

“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 

You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 

Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 

“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 

“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 

Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 

Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 

You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 

“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 

Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 

Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 

Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 

“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 

“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 

“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 

“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 

“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 

You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 

“Then stay. Stay with me.” 

Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 

“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 

Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 

For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 

********************

Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 

Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 

He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 

So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 

That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 

Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 

“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 

Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 

“Sup, Dust Buster!” 

Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 

“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 

“Until you were in my fucking house???” 

“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 

‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 

“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 

“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 

Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 

“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 

“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 

“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 

The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 

“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 

Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 

“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 

“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 

Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn

[the-atlas-sister]

TᕼEY ᗯᗩᒪK Iᑎ Oᑎ YOᑌ ᑕᕼᗩᑎGIᑎG/ᑎᗩKEᗪ- TOKYO ᖇEᐯ.

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞, 𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒, 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒, 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗, 𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 "𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢" 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Y/N!" You let out a scream as you heard Mikey pounding on your bathroom door. You were completely naked, getting ready to hop in the shower when your oh so loving boyfriend decided to pound on the door.

"Let me in!" Mikey yelled as the pounding sound continued.

"I'm getting in the shower!" you yelled back grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your torso. The sound paused for a moment before Mikey continued, only louder. "Oh my god!" you yelped, unlocking the door and letting the boy inside.

"Woah-" Mikey said, his eyes going wide as he barged into the bathroom. He held a large bowl of ice water.

"What the hell are you doing with that?" you asked, looking down at the bowl of ice water.

"...get in the shower," he said, trying to hide the bowl behind his back.

"...why do you have the bowl Manjiro?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at the blonde haired boy. He approached you slowly, causing you to step back towards the shower. "Manjiro..."

"Hold still baby," he said, raising the water bowl high above his head.

"Manjiro!" you screeched as he poured the water over your head, drenching you in ice cold water and ice cubes on the tiles of the floor. You stared at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. "You're dead," you hissed.

𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Hey baby?" Shinichiro said, opening the door to your bedroom, not giving you much time to cover up your bare chest.

"Wait-!" You tried- but it was too late. Shinichiro looked at you with wide eyes as you covered your chest with your arms. He held a fast food menu in his hands.

"Um-" His eyes scanned your topless figure, pink dusting his cheeks. "You- damn I'll never get old of this picture...." he mumbled.

"Don't barge in like that-" you whined, throwing a nearby shirt at the taller black haired man.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," he chuckled, flinching slightly as the shirt hit his shoulder. "Just wondering what you wanted to eat tonight?"

"Just the usual," you grumbled, going to push him out of the bedroom. "Knock next time please."

"You look beautiful baby," he chuckled, letting you push him out of the room.

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚘

Chifuyu pushed open your door, his face buried in his manga as he did. You and Chifuyu had recently moved into a shared dorm room and both of you were still getting used to the idea of living intimately with another person.

"Chifuyu!" you exclaimed, quickly covering your naked body with a nearby shirt.

"Huh? Oh- oh shit!" Chifuyu exclaimed, his face turning a deep red as he looked up at your hardly covered body. "Oh... shit." His eyes scanned your body, making the tips of your ears flush.

"Chifuyu!" you repeated, giving him a shy look.

"Right- right- sorry," he said, shaking his head and turning around to walk out of the room. You couldn't help but smile softly as you caught the wide grin on his face before he left.

𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎

"BABE! I- honey, stop screaming," Baji said, throwing open the shower curtain, despite you trying to cover yourself. "Just look." He showed you his phone, only to reveal a video of Chifuyu getting kicked in the balls by a kindergartener.

"Ba- wait, how did that even happen?" you asked, looking at the screen a bit closer.

"He tried to play a game with Mitsuya's little sisters," Baji chuckled, looking at the phone himself before looking at you. "Damn."

"Get out of here," you chuckled, pushing Baji away from the shower weakly.

"Nuh uh- I'm getting in there!" Baji said, giving you a cheeky grin and pulling off his clothes with an unexplainable speed.

"Baji!" you yelped with a laugh as he hopped into the shower.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚔𝚒

You watched with wide eyes as Takemichi barged into your bedroom. His eye and lip was swollen and his hair was messy. He was rambling about something from the future and a recent fight and Mikey and Draken, oblivious to your shirtless figure watching him.

"Um- Takamichi?" you said, looking at him with a raised brow.

"Huh?" the blonde boy looked over at you, his eyes sudden going wide and his whole face turning a dark red hue. "AAAAAAAAH! I'm so sorry!" he yelled, quickly turning around and placing his face against the door. "I-I just have so much I want to tell you. Oh my god I'm so sorry. Let me know when you're finished."

You never even got the chance to say anything as he shuffled out the door.

𝙺𝚎𝚗 "𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗" 𝚁𝚢𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚓𝚒

"Hey beautiful," Ken said as he walked into your shared bedroom.

"Hey handsome," you responded, looking at your half naked figure in the mirror. "Do I look like I'm gaining some weight?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged, creeping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Look as beautiful as ever baby." He leaned down and placed a few kisses along the skin of your neck.

𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊

You and your boyfriend had recently moved into an apartment together. You had to start getting used to living together with someone, them seeing you naked, smelling your morning breath, seeing you after a night out.

Some took more adjusting than others.

"I could get used to this," Izana's voice chuckled from the doorway. You whipped around to see Izana staring at your topless figure with a loving smile.

"You can't just walk in on me like that," you scoffed, blushing slightly and going to grab a shirt.

"Why not? It's my room too," he chuckled, going to grab the shirt from your hands. "And I'm loving the view, pretty." He cupped your cheek and kissed you softly.

You froze in place as his lips touched yours. You allowed yourself to fall into it, your hand going to grab his arm as your eyes fluttered closed.

"I'll let you get dressed," Izana mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

"I can wait," you said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

Takashi smiled softly as he wandered into your room. He watched with a shy blush as you danced to whatever was playing in your headphones, dressed in only a bra and sweatpants. He leaned on the door for a second longer, counting his blessings for being the one to capture the heart of such a beautiful person such as yourself. After a few seconds longer he left the room and you were none the wiser to his presence.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/the-atlas-sister/735496078254850048/t%E1%95%BCey-%E1%97%AF%E1%97%A9%E1%92%AAk-i%E1%91%8E-o%E1%91%8E-yo%E1%91%8C-%E1%91%95%E1%95%BC%E1%97%A9%E1%91%8Egi%E1%91%8Eg%E1%91%8E%E1%97%A9ke%E1%97%AA-tokyo-%E1%96%87e%E1%90%AF

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 28]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K cw: none Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment + us clowning on all the lads bc ofc

Chapter 27: Peace and Quiet.

When you asked John to take you away, him taking you on a whole boat was not what you had in mind.

Granted, he did take you to his home in Credenhill beforehand; a cosy two-bedroom row home, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a single man in his 40s.

After having dinner on Friday night with him (John is a surprisingly good cook!) and cuddling together on the sofa before ending the night in bed, late on Saturday morning he awoke you with brunch in bed.

You half expected a lazy Saturday... only for him to tell you that you were going on an adventure.

So you ended up down south, on river Severn, on a boat. No, not a goddamn rickety fishing boat; a bloody yacht. A small one, but one nonetheless.

That didn't stop him from wearing a fishing hat. Come to think of it, you very rarely see John without a hat, only indoors. But last night when he went to get you, he was wearing a toque... He wears those a lot.

Apparently, John is an avid fan of boating. And bought one a few years back.

"Was this just an attempt at showing off?" You teased him as you stood by his side, one of his arms wrapped around your hip as the boat cruised out to the mouth of the river.

"No, da'lin', would never dream of it." John replied with a cheeky grin.

"I feel like you're lying to me." You replied as you leaned against him, eyes locked on the beautiful view of the cityscapes as you sailed out to the sea.

"Not lying, just... embellishing the truth." He joked and nuzzled up to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he pulled you to sit on his lap at the command of the boat.

"Right..." You said sarcastically, feigning annoyance, before melting at the feel of his kisses, his nose nuzzling into your hair, his beard tickling your nape.

"Plus, maybe, perhaps, I was worried the lads were going to try and crash out little getaway..." He whispered as he kept dropping little kisses onto you. "Yeah?" You asked as you looked up and back at him.

"They know where I live... Simon does, at least. And I doubt he'd show up, but... he likes you a whole lot." John murmured and then started peppering kisses to your neck.

Shivering a bit, you chuckled. "And you don't share, do you?" You joked.

"Oh, I share. But you asked me to take you away, not to bring 'em with." He quipped with a smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen you share yet, so my point still stands." You retorted as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

"Oh, is that how it is? You're a 'need to see it to believe it', type of person?" He joked and rubbed his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Mhm..." You replied as your eyes closed, leaning back into him, feeling his displays of affection.

Your hands found his extended forearms as his hands controlled the boat on either side of you. You caressed his strong, hairy forearms, a weak attempt at returning the affection.

"How about you go sit out there... Feel the sea air, the water splashing on you..." He offered. "Lay out in the sun, get a bit of a tan?"

"John, we're off the coast in Wales. There's not going to be a tan." You told him playfully.

"Humour me, will you?" He asked you and shook his head, amused.

Nodding, you got up off his lap, kissing him on the lips one last time before you slipped into the cabin to get changed into a swimsuit and then back out.

You sat outside, where John could see you from the cockpit, and took his advice to heart, lounging on the foam chairs at the bow, enjoying the cool water splashing and the sun in the horizon. It was actually enjoyable.

You sneaked a glance at John as he drove the boat, smiling at him, before you decided to put on some sunscreen, just in case. John watched you closely and made a point of showing you how much he enjoyed the sight of you putting it on. At one point he even wolf whistled at you.

After a while, John slowed the boat down and moored it. You didn't think much of it, though the area you were in was beautiful. Nothing but the two of you for miles, the ocean rocking the boat nicely and the sun shining ahead.

John comes to join you, in his own swimming trunks, pulling you close, and peppering kisses all over your back, shoulders, nape... You find yourself giggling. There was something about John... Perhaps the fact he was older, but his attention felt so... nice.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "Some good ol' peace and quiet?"

"Mhm..." You replied as you rolled over to face him. Then, you burst out laughing.

How were you supposed to not? The man had haphazardly lathered himself in sunscreen and was still wearing the bloody fishing hat!

"John, I can't-" You joked.

"What?" He asked in confusion, eyebrows raised.

"You look like a dad on vacation!" You joked and resumed your fit of giggles.

"You calling me old?" He asked in an exaggerated tone.

"No!" You said as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, running your hands over his face to spread the sunscreen more evenly. "You just..." You trailed off.

"I'll have ya know I'm still in my prime." He murmured, his thick beard covering his mouth with each word he spoke.

"You're also a dork." You retorted, feeling his hands slide up your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap.

"Oh? Would a dork have a pretty thing like you in a swimsuit in his arms while on his own boat?" He retorted before leaning close and peppering a kiss on your lips.

"I guess not." You replied playfully. "But the hat certainly doesn't help." You added and slipped it off his head. "See? So much better..."

"I happen to like my boonie hat." He told you as he kept peppering kisses on your face. "I wear it all the time when I'm in the field."

"No way?" You asked dramatically. "You mean you wear this when you're out there with your rifles and what not?" You asked as you lifted the hat off the seat next to you.

"Yes?" He told you, causing you to break into laughter again. "What? It's not that bad, is it?" He asked, feigning insecurity.

"No, it's just-" You trailed off. "First, Simon with his skull mask, then you with your boonie hat... What's next?" You asked.

"Kyle wears a baseball cap with the British flag more often than not." John replied, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"NO?!" You replied, incredulously. "No way?! He dresses so nicely out of uniform, you're telling me he also does the 'one hat' thing?"

"Absolutely he does. Have to ask him to take it off sometimes. It's like it's glued to 'im." He joked as his hands caress your body lovingly.

"What about Johnny?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

"Doesn't wear anything. Just that stupid bloody mohawk." He replied.

"Is it because of his big head?" You joked, which caused you both to break into laughter this time.

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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[lunarluvbot]

saturday sun

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing : percy jackson x fem!reader

summary : a little surprise percy springs on you turns out to be one of the best afternoons at camp. or maybe that's just because you're with him?

requested : yes / no

willow's whispers : first pjo writing cause everything i see is for luke so if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself !! also im pretty sure this can be read for any godly parent. based on the song saturday sun by vance joy. I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE HOW BAD OR SHORT IT IS. I'm building up for my big fics.

warnings : literally nothing this is the most boring fic ever

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where are we going?" You laughed, blindly following Percy as he helped you over a fallen log.

"Oh, just somewhere you'll love," He said, and winked. "At least I hope you do. Anyways, c'mon!"

The pair of you marched through the woods of the camp, laughing, talking, teasing, and enjoying moments of silence. The sun blinked lazily between branches of giant pine trees as if Apollo was comfortably stretching out on his throne.

"Here, stop here." Percy turned to you and gave you that smile that made you fall in love a little more every time you saw it. If that was even possible. "There's a pathway over here, be careful 'cause there's a lotta rocks over here."

You followed him once again, down a narrow sloping hill and arrived on a shoreline. A small oasis even. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, moss grew over everything, the grass was bright and stood tall as if no one's footsteps had ever crushed them down yet. Waves gently lapped the rocks and few shells scattered across the ground.

"Wow," You breathed, almost as if your normal volume would disturb this angelic peace. "When did you find this, Perce?"

Percy, who was flattening the weeds to sit on, looked up. "Huh? Oh, two days ago. During capture the flag. Then I came back yesterday to make sure some monster didn't live here and now I'm showing it to you," He finished setting up his bed that would make any Demeter kid cringe. "C'mere," Percy motioned for you to lay next to him.

You smiled and made your way over to him, easing yourself down on his patch of grass. The two of you were on your stomachs, watching the water swirl into memorizing, glittering, patterns. A sweet silence filled the air.

But the water wasn't what Percy was interested in. He just kept his eyes on you, admiring the way your face lit up when you heard your favorite bird call. The way your eyes seemed to shine in the golden god's light. The smooth curve of your lips that twitched when you smiled.

You met his eyes, the sea-green hue a painting of where the sky and the sea meet.

"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, lightly teasing him to pretend you weren't about to do the same staring as he was doing now.

Percy's eyes glinted and the wisps of his hair caught the sunlight perfectly. "No, you're just the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Art's gotta be appreciated right?"

"I guess but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Aw hey, quit stealing my line!" He said, poking your stomach. A giggle escaped you, one Percy knew he would fight any number of monsters to hear again.

"It's not your line! Where's your copyright claim?"

Instead of answering right away, Percy wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. He tucked a fly-away strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips gently to yours. It felt like the first breath of spring, when the flowers peek from their earthly shield and remind the world that only precious things take time.

"It's right here."

And he kisses you again.

[bbydoll18xx]

Keep the Edits Cordial

A tik tok edit of two best friends coaxes out admissions of feelings (and orgasms)

Paige Bueckers x reader

word count: 3.2k

themes: mutual pining (LOML), friends to lovers, smut!!

warnings: i like using the word ‘fuck’, 18+

Thanks for the love on my first post! This is my first attempt at writing smut, so bear with me. I have a few more ideas if y'all are interested!

Despite not being on the uconn’s women's basketball team, or having any shred of athletic ability, you had befriended Paige Bueckers, and her teammates, as an extension, had adopted you with open arms. So you weren't out of place sitting in the apartment of Paige and several of her teammates while she was in class.

“Oh fuck, shit, shit, shit,” you hear KK Arnold swear over on the couch across from where you were sitting, attempting to get some homework done.

A sensual R&B song plays from her phone several times, as her eyes nearly pop out of her head while she watches.

You look up, mildly annoyed at the noise, but you were used to KK’s antics and her overdramatics. 

“What the hell is the issue?” you ask.

“Umm…nothing,” she drawls. “Be right back, girly boo. Don’t move.” She runs into Azzi’s room, where Azzi and Caroline were attempting to also be productive. 

That was damn near impossible when KK was around.

Your interest peaks as you hear the same music play from KK’s phone again several times over and the giggles and gasps of the three girls fill the bedroom. 

“Paige is gonna flip if she sees this,” Azzi says matter-of-factly, as you strain to hear the full conversation.

‘What would make Paige flip?’ you wonder. 

“I gotta show this to Ice!” You hear KK exclaim a little too loudly, causing the other two girls to shush her. 

KK runs back into the main living space of the apartment where you were sitting. She picks up her stuff with a shit-eating grin before waving to you and rushing out the door.

She was so fucking weird.

Giving up on the essay you were supposed to be finishing, you toss your laptop down and head into the bedroom where Caroline and Azzi are heatedly whispering. They stop as soon as your footsteps near the door. 

Why were they acting so suspicious?

“Ladies, would you mind telling me what the actual fuck just happened?” you ask sarcastically. Being out of the loop was not fun.

“Oh you know, just KK being KK,” Azzi said, brushing it off. “Nothing that concerns you really.”

“But it concerns Paige?” you prod, trying to get any information out of her. Being around Azzi for years at this point, you had grown to learn her weak spots. 

Your eyes narrow, and you stare her down in a way you could only hope was somewhat threatening. 

“If it concerns Paige I wanna know. We’re best friends, c’mon please,” you whine. “Is it another one of those thirsty edits?” 

Azzi shakes her head and makes a zip of the lip motion. 

You roll your eyes at her childish behavior and look over to Caroline expectantly. She just shrugs. They were no help at all.

“Fine!” You say with a tone of indignation. “I'll find that stupid tik tok myself and see what all the fuss is about.” You spin on your heels and walk out of the room with sheer determination. You miss the smirk Azzi and Caroline share once your back is turned. 

You were so fucked.

You type ‘Paige Bueckers’ into the tik tok search bar and begin to scroll with the volume up to identify the same sound blasting out of KK’s phone just a minute ago. 

Your head gets a little fuzzy as your vision is assaulted with video upon video of Paige. You were used to calming the jump of your heart when you were around her, but the hedonistic edits made you want to scream. Each edit you came to had clips of her flexing, grinning, and sticking her tongue out in a way that made you want to rub your thighs together. They were paired with lascivious lyrics that caused you to nearly let out a whine. 

You had been avoiding tik tok recently for this exact reason. Trying to act normal around Paige all the time was difficult enough. You did not need a ridiculous app to fuel the fantasies that threatened to creep into your mind at every waking moment.

At least your screen time was way down.

Your scrolling quickly stopped as you felt your heart quite literally stop. It was you. In all its glory, with a staggering amount of likes, comments, and views, was what looked to be an edit of you and Paige.

What the fuck?

Your hands shaking, you clicked onto it, hearing the same song as earlier. This was the one the girls were freaking out about. 

“Azzi, Caroline, get your asses out here,” you yell, trying to conceal your panic.

They slowly strolled out of the room looking worried. 

“I see you found it,” Azzi said with a laugh. “So what do you think now that you’ve seen it?” 

Both girls tried to gauge your reaction, but you were more concerned about the fact that Azzi had said earlier that Paige would be pissed about it.

You shrug. You had to choose your words carefully. “Well there are edits of you and Paige together,” you reason. “Lots of people think you two are in some secret relationship, and P has never minded. Why would this be any different?” 

“Everyone knows that you and Paige have a special friendship,” Caroline alludes. It goes right over your head.

“Well if she is bothered by this then we are not as close as I thought,” you say quietly, still watching the tik tok, as it plays again. You wanted this edit burned into your retinas. 

Occasionally you allowed yourself to feel a tiny sliver of hope that you and Paige could ever be anything more than friends. Everytime she gave you a late night cuddle or placed a hand around your waist, as if it naturally belonged there, made you long for more. You knew better than to feel hopeful though. This stupid edit did nothing to quell the burning need for the tall blonde.

Throwing your phone down, you look up at the two basketball players with a look of indifference you’ve learned to master. “It doesn’t even matter,” you whisper dejectedly.

“C’mon, we all know how you actually feel about Paige. She’s the only one dense enough not to see how crazy you are for her,” Azzi soothes. “Maybe it's time to be honest with her. You never know what she’s feeling until you talk to her.”

You laugh. Fuck that. Feelings are meant to be kept inside until you die or they go away. 

You’re hoping the latter will come sooner rather than later, but you doubt you'll get that lucky.

“I don't think so,” you scoff. “I need to go before Paige gets back.” 

You leave despite the protests of the two girls, and you make a plan to hide from Paige for the next few days. You knew it was only a matter of time before Ice and KK went running to Paige to show her the edit. 

45 fucking minutes. That was how long it took before your door was being bombarded by Paige and her delightfully rambunctious children, Ice and KK. You swore under your breath as you quickly weighed your options. Option 1 was simple: pretend you were gone, although the smell of your microwave popcorn could have easily given you away. Option 2 was the grown up thing to do: open the door and have a conversation like an adult. Option 3 was straight up crazy: jump out of the window and run for the damn hills. You glanced at the open window of your bedroom before shaking your head. You needed to stop watching too much television. 

Option 1 was it. Fuck being an adult.

You stood next to the door, waiting for the three girls to give up, but they refused to leave.

“I know you’re in there, c’mon let me just talk to you,” said Paige through the door. “KK and Ice can leave.”

You hesitate, but still reach for the knob of the door. 

“Please?” Paige asks again, causing you to let out a sigh of defeat and turn the lock so she can come in. 

“Are you pissed?” Paige questions, somewhat harshly, as she walks through your door.

You give her a look of confusion. 

“Of course not!” you exclaim. “I thought you might be, though. I heard Azzi tell KK and Caroline earlier that you would flip if you saw it. I was just worried it would make you feel uncomfortable, and then our friendship would feel awkward, and I-” you ramble, trying to make some sense of what you were feeling.

Paige cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I was worried it made you uncomfortable. I wanted to come check on you as soon as KK showed it to me,” she replied gently. “Me and Azzi, we’re used to the rumors, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about people thinking we’re, ya know, in love.” She whispers the last two words as if it was some big secret.

You let out a shaky laugh. “It means nothing to me. That would be ridiculous anyway,” you lie smoothly. Burying your feelings for Paige was an artform for you now. 

A quick shadow of something that was hard to read flickered over Paige’s face. You chose to ignore it. ‘It’s easier that way, less messy and complicated,’ you thought sadly. Little did you know, things would get even messier and more complicated. 

Two days later you were sitting in class when you hear the same fucking R&B song playing from your classmates phone. You look over at her, meeting her eyes. She smirks and slides closer to you. 

“So you and Paige Bueckers, huh?” she says curiously, almost like a taunt. “I’d imagine she’s incredible in bed.”

Her hypothesis startles you.

Who the fuck says that to someone they barely know? You feel your pulse rise in anger, wanting to defend your friend. You feel hot with jealousy. Anyone thinking about your Paigey in a sexual manner made your blood boil. In your mind, she was only yours.

You decided it would be fun to play into it. You lean closer to the gossipy bitch, and with a whisper you say, “you have no idea the things she does to me. Fuckk, I mean, we’ve all seen the edits. Her tongue is always out.” The obnoxious brunette to your left looks shocked, and she rolls her chair further away from you. 

With a satisfied smirk, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. ‘What the fuck did I just do,’ you thought. Rule number 1 of being Paige’s friend and only her friend was to avoid thinking of her in the way you really want to. That means no fantasizing, no tik tok edits, and absolutely no talking about having sex with her.

You lay your head onto the desk. What an idiot you were.

As the class comes to a close, you escape quickly to avoid any awkward looks from other people on campus. The last few days have left you feeling unsettled as the edit of you and Paige reached ridiculous levels of popularity. Everyone was now thinking you were somehow involved. You hated how much you wished that to be true.

You had promised Paige that you would hang out once you were finished with your class, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy to your friendship. You rolled into her apartment anxiously, calling out for her. Paige pokes her head out of her bedroom, waving you in with an equally anxious smile.

This worries you. Paige was always the grounded one of the pair of you. Her nervous demeanor makes you think something is wrong. You take a deep breath before sitting opposite her on her bed. It smelled like the lotion she always wears, and you subconsciously inhale a bit longer than normal.

Fuck she smells so good.

Paige stares at you for a few seconds, making you feel hot under her gaze. Those eyes piercing into your soul made you want to scream her name until the neighbors could hear. She takes a breath. “So basically everyone thinks we’re in love,” she deadpans. Her nonchalance makes you squirm. How the hell does she feel about being uconn’s newest gossip train? It's hard to tell.

“Yeah, I kind of figured when I was just asked in class about how you are in bed,” you mutter, blushing at the confession.

Paige looks vaguely surprised at first, before replacing the look with a smirk. “What’d you tell ‘em?” she questions.

With a sudden surge of confidence that you typically only get from ample amounts of alcohol, you reply, “I told her that all those edits of you with your tongue sticking out could only mean one thing.”

Paige grins cheekily. “You’re not wrong. I am great with my tongue. Maybe one day I can show you.”

You think your heart had never beat this fast in your entire fucking life. You were still feeling particularly bold, so you murmur, “I’m free now?” There was no way Paige was going to agree to that, so you get up to leave, before you feel her hand grab yours, pulling you back into her.

“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” Paige demands. “Do you actually want this? Do you want me?” 

You nod your head embarrassingly fast. You felt like an overexcited puppy. “P, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

“Good,” the blonde replies. “Me too. Now let me show you all of my little tongue tricks.”

Paige grabs your jaw with one hand, placing the other around your throat to keep you right where she wanted you. Your lips meet finally, and everything around you fades into nothingness. 

Oh my God, she tastes so good. Paige presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, sending shivers through your whole body and right down between your legs.

“Need you naked for me, babe,” hums Paige. ‘For her you would fight a war,’ you thought, as you stripped your sweatshirt off, revealing the pretty pink lace of your bralette.

You mentally high five yourself for your underwear choices this morning. Showing up in your granny panties would’ve been terrible.

Paige helps you out of your jeans and starts placing tantalizing kisses over your inner thighs and stomach. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you already, making you feel slick with the anticipation of what was to come.

Paige notices the wet spot on your panties, grinning as she lightly blows air over your clothed pussy. You arch your back wantonly, needing more-so much more. 

“Please, Paigey,” you whine in a way that gives Paige a big head. “Need you so bad.”

“Use your words, baby. What do you need?” she coaxes, still alternating between kissing your inner thighs and swirling her fingers against your clothed clit. 

“Please just touch me, I’ll do anything for you,” you moan brokenly. You could feel yourself start to slip into some sort of subspace. At this point, you’d do anything just to get some more stimulation.

“So polite, aren’t you, babe? I’m gonna take good care of you,” Paige promises before ripping your soaked panties off in one quick motion.

For the first time, you were splayed out naked in front of your best friend, with her having all the power in the world over you. Before you could begin to feel insecure under her piercing gaze, Paige swirled two long fingers into your sopping pussy, admiring how easily turned on you got for her. She brought them up to her mouth, sucking them in and moaning about how good you tasted. 

“You taste as sweet as I’ve been imagining for years,” she whispers. “Have a taste.” She brings the same two fingers up to your mouth and drags them across your swollen lips.

You lick your lips and groan at the taste of your own arousal, wiggling around on the bed and humping the air to get any sort of pleasure. Paige presses your hips flush against the mattress, keeping you from moving. She was yours to control as she wished. Finally, she brought her mouth down to your burning heat, starting with a long and slow lick up your pussy. It felt so good you could cry.

“More, P, need more,” you cry. She was being a fucking tease, and you could feel yourself go crazy as she ate you out slowly, as if she was eating her last meal on earth.

She granted you some reprieve as she entered a finger and then another into you, slowly stretching you out with scissoring motions. 

“So wet for me, aren’t you my pretty baby,” she gloats, and you try to avoid rolling your eyes back into your head in pleasure. Her fingers pick up a cruel and punishing pace, targeting your g-spot as if it had her name written on it.

She fucking owned you.

Paige, still finger fucking you, presses kisses up your belly, onto your tits, before meeting you in another searing kiss. You want to sob at the sheer pleasure. It was overwhelming; the heat of your best friend’s body pressed flush against you, the moans ricocheting off the walls, and the tightening in your lower belly that threatened to spill everywhere.

“Fuckkk, Paigey, I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly. “Please, please let me cum, please I need you,” you whine in an incoherent babble of pleasure. 

“Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you,” Paige pants out, riding the highs of dominating you and ensuring the unceasing assault of your g-spot.

With a guttural moan and a string of words that would make a sailor blush, you ride out your high. Paige’s fingers slow as you pant, coming back to reality. She watches your chest rise and fall a few seconds before removing her fingers from your fucked out pussy and licking them clean.

“You did so good for me,” she praises, causing you to squirm, activating your praise kink once again.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “This isn’t going to make things weird now, is it?” you question anxiously. That was the last thing you wanted to happen.

“‘Course not,” promised Paige, linking her pinky finger with yours. “I’m plannin’ on wifing you up now.”

You giggle as the last bits of awkwardness fall away, feeling blissfully fucked out. “What about you, though?” you ask. You wanted to make Paige feel as good as she made you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, baby,” she replies. “You look like you’re about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep.”

You smile sleepily at her. She knew you a little too well.

 “I should send a thank you card to whoever made that edit of us,” you murmured against Paige’s chest, making her laugh.

“And I'm definitely getting rid of all three of my vibrators,” you announce, causing Paige to grin proudly.

Paige was unquestionably okay with that.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[appocalipse]

see for yourself ⋆ sirius black

summary: after a party, you tell sirius how you ended things with the guy you've been seeing because he was a bit jealous of your friendship with him. sirius shows you that maybe he was right to be.

"You're in a good mood."

Sirius looks at you from his place on the floor and grins, wild and boyish. It makes your stomach do flips that you'd rather not think about too much, lest it leads to things you really shouldn't be thinking about.

"Must be your charming company," he says before looking back up at the ceiling, fingers laced behind his head.

He's laying spreadeagle on the hardwood floor, staring up at the slowly rotating fan and taking occasional swigs from an open bottle of Firewhisky beside him. Everyone but Remus, with whom Sirius shares the flat, had already gone home hours ago, leaving only you and Sirius behind in the living room.

You roll your eyes even though he can't see you doing it, setting your empty cup on the coffee table. You lean back against the sofa and fold one leg up under the other so you can turn to face him fully. "Remind me again why you're not sitting on furniture like a normal person?"

"It's more fun down here." He turns his head enough for you to catch his wolfish grin. "Care to join me?"

"Oh no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I should be getting home anyway. It's late."

Sirius frowns and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The look in his gray eyes is equal parts amusement and disappointment. "On a Friday night? Come on, love, we're barely tipsy. Besides, you still haven't told me what happened between you and that wanker you were seeing."

"There's nothing to tell," you shrug.

He scoffs as he crawls across the floor towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek when Sirius hoists himself onto the sofa beside you and pulls one leg up to his chest. There's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that doesn't seem quite as innocent as you'd like it to be.

"He looked pretty pissed off when he left," he says, twirling a long strand of your hair around his index finger. "What'd you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything. And we were together for barely three weeks. I was just...he wasn't the right guy, okay? Now shush."

You make a halfhearted attempt to turn away from him, but Sirius laughs softly and rests his head on your shoulder. "You don't say."

"Sirius."

"What? I'm glad you didn't waste any more time on that tosser. He would never have made you happy."

"How would you know?"

Sirius lifts his head and leans back far enough to look at you. His expression is one of smug self-confidence as he says, "Because I know everything."

"Everything, huh?"

"Everything."

You quirk an eyebrow. "Well then, what am I thinking right now?"

His eyes flick down to your lips for a brief moment before they find yours again, but it's enough for heat to rise in your cheeks. You could swear he starts to move closer before he blinks and turns away with a dry laugh, but by then you're not so sure anymore. "That you're bored of talking about this dolt."

The ache of disappointment in your chest must be almost palpable, because Sirius furrows his brow and asks, "Is everything alright?"

"Yup."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

Sirius gives you a knowing look and shifts on the sofa to face you more fully. His knee knocks against yours. "Don't tell me you're hung up over that berk."

"Not in the slightest."

"Liar."

"I'm not," you insist. "Really."

"Did he break your heart or something? I'll break his arm."

You laugh, though you doubt Sirius is actually joking. "Nothing happened. He was just jealous. That's all."

He frowns, then narrows his eyes at you. "Jealous of who?"

"Oh, you know, the usual suspects," you say lightly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic completely. But when Sirius remains silent, you let out a slow breath and (as you usually do when it comes to him) give in. "You, mostly. He said some stuff, and I didn't take too kindly to it."

A wry smile spreads across Sirius' face. He looks delighted. "What'd he say about me?"

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely."

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you rest your head back against the cushion behind you and say, "He thinks you, uh...you know, fancy me or something. That we spend too much time together. But I told him that he's crazy, obviously."

"Obviously."

The following silence bothers you.

You turn your head enough to see Sirius' face. He's staring back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, after several moments of more tense silence, he whispers, "What if I do fancy you?"

"Sure you do," you mutter, rolling your eyes again.

Sirius places his palm on top of the hand resting between the two of you and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. "I could show you."

It takes a moment for you to register the offer.

"Did you drink more than I realized?"

"Just enough for the liquid courage to work."

Your tongue feels like sandpaper. "Sirius."

"Mmhm."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"Who says I'm being ridiculous?" he asks, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your skin. "Maybe I'm madly in love with you. Have you considered that?"

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your stomach is doing somersaults. "This isn't funny, Padfoot."

"It's not supposed to be funny."

"But—"

He cuts you off by cupping your cheek and leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your lips. It smells of Firewhisky and mint. "Kiss me and see for yourself."

"You must be drunk."

"Only tipsy," he reminds you. "Or maybe a little drunk on you."

"You know, you're not half as funny as—mmph!"

He's kissing you. Sirius is kissing you, and dear sweet Merlin, you could swear that the world's tilting beneath you as his hands pull you closer. He hums contentedly when he feels you reciprocating, cradling your face between his palms as if to make sure that you won't go anywhere.

Not that you intend to.

It's the kind of kiss that steals your breath away. The kind of kiss you can lose yourself in without even realizing it, especially when one of his hands slides into your hair, and you moan involuntarily into his mouth.

Sirius laughs breathlessly against your lips as he eases you down onto your back. His fingers dance along your jawline before he curls them under your chin, tilting your head back and kissing his way down your throat.

"I think this went better than expected," he murmurs, pausing long enough to gently bite down on the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You gasp.

Sirius sits up suddenly. His hair hangs in front of his face like a dark curtain and his eyes glitter with amusement when he pushes it back. Your pulse jumps when you see the slight redness of his lips and the hint of mischief on his face. "Don't tell me you're getting shy now."

"Shut up."

He leans down and kisses you again, groaning low in his throat as your hands slide up the broad expanse of his back. "I'm starting to think you fancy me, too," he whispers, words ghosting over your mouth.

"Yeah," you admit sheepishly, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders. "I may have been lying earlier. It's not that crazy."

"May have?"

"Fine, I did lie."

"I knew it."

He looks far too smug. Just this once, you don't really mind.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 7

Masterpost

Okay. This is technically the end of Summoning Game Show! There is room to write more, but that probably won't be coming for a little bit. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and sharing. I am so so happy that people liked it and interacted and everything. I had a great time and I hope you like the end.

~~~~~

Red, Nightwing, and Robin soon find themselves in an office/meeting room of sorts. They’re seated on a couch in front of a table. 

Danny closes the door behind them. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think you could drink it.”

Danny takes a seat on a loveseat across the table from them. He has a small green dog with a spiky collar sitting in his lap and he pets him absentmindedly as he gets settled. Robin is laser focused on the dog.

“What would you guys like to talk about?”

“Who is that?” Robins asks immediately.

“This is Cujo!” Danny smiles down at the Cujo and he wags his tail when he hears his name. “You guys don’t mind him being in here right? He’s mostly well behaved.”

Robins shakes his head. “We don’t mind. Just…”

“Ah, dead animal. Well, animals get ghosts too.” Danny explains. “ Personally, I like to think that Cujo is happy.”

“His collar says Axion Labs.” 

Danny nods at Robin, fingers playing with the collar. “ He used to be a guard dog for them.” 

“What-” Robin is cuts off as Danny and Cujo start glowing more brightly, Cujo starts growling and his form flickers.

“Never- never- ask a ghost how they died.” The boys all nodded, and Danny and Cujo stabilized as they calmed down. “It’s very rude. Now, to business, why did you want to summon me? ”

“We do a lot of travel, space, dimensions and everything and we just wanted to learn more about this realm. Maybe set up communications, that kind of thing. A learning experience.” Nightwing explains.

“I mean, we clearly don’t know enough considering we didn’t know you could help Hood. Or that he needed help in the first place.” Red mutters the last bit. 

Danny eyes them all warily. “Historically, we don’t really do well when people want to learn more about us. What exactly do you need this information for?

“”Just to learn. I told you, I like to know things.” Red said.

“Well, I can’t just give out any information, but if you want to ask me some questions until Hood gets back, I’ll answer what I can.”

“What is this place actually called?” Nightwing asks.

“Oh, it has lots of names, because it’s lots of places. This is the Infinite Realms, home to all afterlives and the dimension between dimensions.” 

“Home to all afterlives?” Red is flabbergasted. Red wasn’t sure that he believed in any afterlives, and now there are multiple? “So you’re all dead?”

“No.” They wait a moment but Danny does not elaborate.

“So there are living people here?” Nightwing asks.

“Obviously.”Danny makes a face at them. “Everyone here is living. You need better terminology. Humans are very narrow when it comes to life and death.”

“That’s because usually you’re either dead or alive.” Robin is struggling to comprehend the possibility of an in-between.

“That seems very narrow-minded coming from people who came here with someone both alive and dead.”

“Hood?” Red asks.

“Hood is alive.” Nightwing states.

“And dead!” Danny chirps. “There are many in-betweens, most leaning to one side or the other. Hood leans more towards being alive, but his being alive is dependent on ectoplasm, so he’s at least a little dead. Though the fact that he was able to live with the ectoplasm he has means that he is mostly alive.”

“What is ectoplasm and how did Hood get it?” Red is very curious now.

“Oh, everything. Most of the Infinite Realms is made out of ectoplasm , including most creatures in it. “ Danny puts his hand together and green liquid pools in it. The same green as everything outside.

“So, that’s probably the Lazarus pits.” Red mutters. “ Explains the exposure bit.”

“You have ectoplasm in your dimension?” Danny asks.

The boys nod. “There are a few pools of it around. One guy in particular likes to hoard them to keep from dying.” 

Danny frowns. 

“That’s a violation. Ectoplasm is poisonous for humans, radioactive.” Danny complains. “And if his ectoplasm is as bad as the ectoplasm in your friend, that is not healthy.”

“It would be, he’s the one who exposed Hood to it in the first place.”

Danny groans. “Alright, I’m going to need a list of all the locations you know of in your dimension, and if you have a way for me to contact whoever is hoarding the ectoplasm that would be great. I’m going to have to take care of that.”

There’s a knock on the door and Danny calls, “Come in!”

Frostbite opens the door for Hood, who comes in without his helmet, but with a mask on. “Guys, this is my new doctor. He’s great.” Hood says.

“Glad you’re doing better!” Danny smiles at them both as Hood takes a seat. Frostbite nods his head, then leaves again, shutting the door behind him. “Frostbite gave you a rundown of what’s to do and what’s going to happen now that you have healthy ectoplasm?”

“Yep, explained all the side effects, but I’m already feeling much better.”

“Wonderful! So If you guys wouldn’t mind just giving me that information so I can follow up on it, I think we’re done here.”Danny stands, putting Cujo on the seat as he vacates it. 

“We would like to be able to get in contact with you, if you’re coming to our dimension, that way we can tell the rest of the heroes what you’re up to and everything. Is there any way to communicate between our dimensions?” Red asks.

“Frostbite also said I would need to discuss a way to get fresh ectoplasm from you until I can create my own reliably.” Jason cuts in.

“Well, looks like I have lots of business in your dimension. Do you guys have communicators that you use? Anything from your dimension on you right now?”

They all nod. “Cool, hand me something, two-way, that you don’t mind losing because after I fix it up you won’t be able to contact anyone except for me on it.”

Red hands him a phone, Danny opens it up and messes with the insides before putting it back together. Then he turns it on and calls his Ghost business phone so he would have the number. He hands Red back the phone, picking his own up. “What should I name you guys? Is it always going to be Red on the phone?”

“Probably not.” Red says. “Especially if Hood needs things from you as well. Just put us under Bats.”

“Bats is weird, but whatever you say.” Danny finishes with his phone and smiles up at them. “Thanks for competing! I’ll be in touch.”

[golbrocklovely]

candid // colby brock

A/N: i know yall…. it’s been so long since i last posted anything. my apologies on that one. i just haven’t been in the mood to write anything. but shoutout to these pics of colby bc the moment i saw them, i knew i had to write a fic about them. this one is sweet and basically just a blurb, but i promise i’m coming out with a longer fic soon. i got a lot i gotta make up for, and this is just the beginning lol lmk what you think and hope you enjoy !

prompt: your boyfriend looks good one day and you decide you need to take a picture of him. || colby brock x reader

trigger warning: none, super sweet and fluffy 🙂

word count: 853

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look so handsome today.” I smiled sweetly, staring up at Colby.

He glanced away from his phone to me, his brow furrowing sassily. “What?”

“I said you look handsome.” I repeated.

He looked down at what he was wearing: a big t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His feet were bare, and his hair was not completely done the way he usually did it: straightened and with a bit of gel to keep it so. He had woken up from a nap an hour ago, his hair losing its flat texture for a more wavy, messy type.

He looked so beautiful, truly. But when didn't I think of him that way? I always found him beautiful, even well before we started dating.

He hid a smile at the corner of his mouth, “Really? I look a mess.”

“Not at all.” I shook my head, stepping closer to him.

He slid his phone into his pocket, locking eyes with me. His voice was low, bashful. “But you always say that about me. That I look nice…”

“Have I ever lied?” I questioned.

He twisted his face jokingly. “I feel like you probably have at least once.”

I gasped, swatting at him. “Absolutely not! You take that back.”

He grabbed my wrist, sliding his hand into mine. A playful smile rested on his lips. “You're too kind to me.”

“Maybe you need to see what you look like…” I pulled my hand from his grasp, taking my phone and pulling up the camera.

“Aww, c’mon babe. No.” He walked around the island in the kitchen, laughing halfheartedly.

I followed after him, “What? You don't want me to take a pic of you?”

“Not really, no.” He shook his head.

“Oh, coming from the guy that takes pics of me when I sleep?” I argued.

He turned to me, still backing away from me. “I only did that twice, and both times you looked so cute.”

I scoffed, “My hair was going in six different directions, and I was basically drooling!”

He grinned, his dimples appearing. “And you still looked beautiful to me.”

I held my breath; damn he was attractive… “Exactly how I feel about you.”

He groaned, covering his face. He stopped moving away from me however, leaning his one hip against the counter.

“Move your hands.” I grabbed his one arm, pulling it down. Both of his hands followed and I snapped a quick pic. His face was still partially covered, his eyes being the only part really showing.

“Maybe next time warn me about the flash. I'm blind now.” Colby blinked harshly, his eyes unfocused.

“Oh relax, you big baby.” I murmured, pulling up the pic. “See! Look how good you look.”

He gazed down at my screen, giving me a quizzical look. “You think I look good?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was so stubborn sometimes. “Yes.”

“My hair is so messy. I think I need a haircut.” He remarked.

I bit my lip, staring up at his hair. “I like when your hair is a bit messy.”

“I know you do. I don't, though.” He replied. 

“What? I never knew that.” I deadpanned.

He glared down at me, rolling his eyes and walking to the living room.

“Let me take another one!” I called after him.

He huffed, walking through the living room. “No. No. I think we're good with the candids today.”

“C'mon Colby, I whined, catching up to him. “You really do look so nice. Just let me take one more.”

He reached the stairs, ready to go up. “I think one is enough.”

I cut him off, jumping in front of him on the stairs. “Please.... just one more.”

“Why are you so adamant about taking a picture of me?” He snorted.

“I don't know, babe. Maybe because you're my boyfriend, and I love you, and I want as many pics of you as I can get in this lifetime?” I admitted, placing my hands on my hips.

He turned his head to the side. “Really?”

“Yeah. Plus you look really hot.” I added, winking.

He stared at me, his piercing blue eyes playful. He sucked his teeth dramatically. “Fine. But just one more.”

“Okay. Just one more.” I lined my phone up, "Pose for me, baby."

He rolled his eyes, placing one hand on his face, the other on the banister. I took the picture quickly, whispering a perfect under my breath.

Colby leaned over me, looking down at the picture. I smiled brightly. “Aww, this one is so good. What do you think?”

“It's not too bad.” He mumbled, shrugging.

“You'll grow to like it, I bet. Especially since I'm making it my background.” I smiled, already changing it to my background.

He took his phone out, following my lead. “I'm gonna make the one of you sleeping my background then.”

“As if you haven't done that before.” I raised an eyebrow at him, our eyes meeting.

Colby smirked at me. His eyes softened and he leaned in, kissing my lips. “Love you.”

My face warmed at his touch. “Love you too.”

[jaeyunluvr]

just for you (p.js)

"i wanna get married." you say as you drown in the warmth of your boyfriend's embrace. the tv played soft noises in the background, as it's light illuminated his face, changing hues from time to time.

jay perks up at your statement.

"to whom?"

you laugh at his question. "who else? to my oh so loving boyfriend." you say as you eye him dreamily.

it was the absolute truth and you swore it came from the bottom of your heart. everything about jay was so dear to you. the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand oh so gently, the way he cooked your meals for you, pouring all his love into it. the way he spoke to you, the way he held you against his chest like you were everything to him. the way he would surprise you with little gifts at random times. "it's the little things that count, sweetheart." he would say.

the thought of spending your whole lifetime with such a perfect man by your side, giving you all the love in the world. it made you feel dizzy with happiness. there was nothing you wanted more than this.

"i think that's quite a huge long term plan, sweetheart." he spoke with a slight giggle.

"yes it is." you said, the smile on your face getting ever so bright. "but i think it's the only long term plan i have for my life."

jay's heart swelled. he utterly adored the way you said it. the smile on your face gave away all of your thoughts. he could read you clearly. he knew all about your silly thoughts of running away with him and living in a cottage in a little village. you've talked about it before.

and oh yes he remembers. he remembers every little thing you talk about and every tiny detail about you. it's his way of showing love. showing that you're being noticed, showing that you're being looked after, showing that he took interest in you, showing that he cared.

thinking about it, jay wanted to spend the rest of his life with you too. he loved you despite your imperfections. hell, he thought you were perfect. he loved how you always showed concern towards him. he loved how you appreciated the effort he puts into everything he does. he loves how you sense it when he's feeling down, and pull him into one of the softest hugs ever. "i will take away all of your worries baby" you'd say.

"does this mean i have to buy you a ring?" he says playfully and you narrow your eyes at him.

"is that what you inferred from what i've said?" you say pouting at him.

"i mean yes, but that also means i wanna get married to you too. so badly actually." he pressed his lips against yours, leaving a lingering peck, dripping with love.

moments like this, made you feel that this man was made just for you and you wouldn't trade him for the world.