#800 followed celebration

[morganwrites12672]

🩰, haymitch’s daughter!reader x Finnick O’Dair

My 800 follower celebration is still going on through March 1st!

Finnick Odair x Abernathy!Reader

Summary: You attend a Capitol party!

Genre: 99% fluff

Warnings/Tags: Finnick Odair x reader (romantically), established relationship, Abernathy!reader, female!reader, Haymitch Abernathy x Reader (Platonic), sweetness, a few kisses, nothing super explicit, a few curse words, mention of prostitution, finnicks work, few sentences about THG

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Finnick finally found you in the crowd of crazily dressed capitol assholes. The party was begining to get extremely suffocating and he needed to find you.

"Hello darling," he whispered in your ear before sneaking off with you to a bare corner. His eyes quickly dart around the room looking for an escape.

"Left," you whisper and he sees the door you were referring to. God, these stupid parties got old very fast. Especially after years of them.

Finnick grabs your hand and carefully navigates the way to the door, without getting caught up in any unruly conversations.

You both reach the door way and sneak into the hallway. You rest your head against the nearest wall and finnick wraps his arm around you. He presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours.

You both sit in silence, listening to the others breathing and heartbeat, for what fells like eternity. He finally pulls away and you place a quick kiss to his lips.

He smiles before giving you a proper kiss. His lips crash onto yours, the excitement of sneaking away from the party combined with the wine you had oth been sipping, makes every sloppy move feel eletric.

His lips move in sync with yours as his tongue begins to find it's way into your mouth. He finally breaks the kiss and you lean back.

"And then we get to do all of these again tomorrow night," finnick complains. These parties did suck. I mean, who wants to hang out with rich dickheads that think prostituting teenagers is acceptable?

The answer is no in their right mind.

"Hey, don't worry. It will all be over soon," you remind him. Sure, the parties were held almost every few days, but there was a small loophole.

You and finnick were both victors. The 74th Hunger Games would be starting soon. You would be training district twelve, and he would be training district four.

In a few weeks the both of you would have very few parties to attend. The only downside was, well, everything you would be doing.

Training kids for their certain death was hard. If you weren't being forced to prance around and sleep with every rich asshole who had the money, you were helping aid the Capitol in murdering innocent children. It was great.

"At least we will be together a little bit," finnick says with a smile before kissing you again. When everything was wrong, finnick could count on you to make it all right.

His lips moved in syc with yours. The buzz of the alcohol and the adrenaline from kissing him made you forget everything. His tongu-

"I don't like seeing your tongue down my daughter's throat," Your dad says, clearing his throat. Finnick jumps at the man's voice and moves a few steps away.

"Much better," Your dad says before drunkenly stumbling off. He had coping mechanisms all right. There was a reason you helped train the kids. Your dad hates that you had to participate.

"Let's go suffocate," Finnick jokes as he grabs your hand and leads you back into the party. Everything was wrong, but a few right things could make you forget it.

Even if it's just for a few minutes.

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Requests are open! Reblogs and feedback are always enjoyed!

[biblio-smia]

“i’m falling in love with you.” + Mike Schmidt please! congratulations — you’re such a talented writer and we all truly appreciate you! :)

thank you so much 🥹 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

mike has a staring problem. it's especially noticeable early in the mornings and late at nights, when he's only really half-awake and half-aware of what he's doing.

he's even less conscious on the effect it has, especially on you. you start stumbling over your words when you realize his eyes are fixed on you in such a concentrated way. you know he's just focused, probably engrossed in what it is you're saying, but you can't help the little patter your heart does.

and, you won't deny, you have a problem, too. though it's usually because you're enamored - captivated by the way mike's eyes have reflected the sun, or completely distracted by the way his eyes crinkle at the edges.

but when mike catches you staring, you tell him exactly why each time, sending a soft flush to his face.

tonight, however, mike's eyes will not leave yours, no matter how many times you've caught him. you'll catch him, look away, look back a few minutes later and still see him staring. you're starting to think he's fallen asleep with his eyes open when he reaches over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

you're a little stunned, immediately forgetting the story you were telling him about a coworker. but he's back to staring, his head propped up on his hand, his elbow sinking into the pillows, waiting expectantly for you to continue.

you turn, scowling now, to face mike.

"you've been staring at me all night," you frown.

"really?" mike says, his voice low from the weariness, but you can't tell if he's being sarcastic. though, usually, his capacity for that clocks out around nine p.m.

"and you just interrupted me."

"sorry." at least that one's genuine. "didn't mean to." mike kisses you again - this time, you can't say he interrupted you.

"do i have something on my face?"

"yeah," mike replies softly, reaching up to hold your face. but he doesn't continue.

"mike."

"hmm?"

you look at him expectantly, but if he picks up on it, you can't tell.

mike doesn't stop his staring, or his holding of your face. he's begun to swipe his thumb over your cheek now - slowly, delicately.

"i'm falling in love with you."

it's quiet - but it's certain. you're sure you haven't misheard and the edges of your mouth curl into a smile.

"really?"

"mhm."

"why's that?"

mike does his best to shrug. "just am."

you wish you could keep this image of mike forever - a certain softness around him that only shows in his most vulnerable hours.

"are you falling in love with me?" mike asks, his eyes still wide despite his clear exhaustion.

you grab mike's hand on your face, pushing his fingertips to your lips. you hold him, steady, laying him down till he's holding you to his side.

there's no ounce of apprehension behind your answer, a truth that has been floating around without the proper words to express it.

"yeah," you say quietly, wondering if mike is still awake to hear you. "i am."

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats on the milestone! Could you do pumpkin carving with Hunter please? He’s the knife guy, so I think it’d be funny if (female) reader was like “honey, do you have a knife?” And he’s expecting something might be wrong, but then-

“Good! Because we’re carving pumpkins!” :D

I Can Do It

Summary: You bring a pumpkin home with the intent to carve it. Tragically, all your kitchen knives are not up to carving a gourd. Lucky for you, your boyfriend is a knife guy.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I got overwhelmed with stuff lol. Also, Spalmart is Space Walmart and the rule about sandals on the stairs is pulled from my life, lol.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You stare at the twin pumpkins sitting on your counter critically. 

They’ve been scrubbed and you’ve used a permanent marker to outline the design you’re planning on carving on each of them, and now all you have to do is start the carving.

The problem? You don’t have a pumpkin carving kit.

You could go out and buy one. Probably. They’re only a couple of credits after all. But, at the same time, the idea of going out and buying a kit just for carving pumpkins feels like a waste of money.

On the other hand, none of your kitchen knives are going to be up to the task. It’s your fault as you don’t take the best care of your kitchen knives, but they were, like, 20 credits from the local Spalmart, so it’s not like you broke the bank to get them in the first place.

You shift slightly and rest your chin on the palm of your hand. You suppose you can settle for painting the pumpkins, rather than carving them. But it’s not the same. Plus, you want to cook the seeds.

There’s a noise from the living you and your gaze drifts from the pumpkins to the entryway to the other room. Hunter knows your home, but he doesn’t know that you have pumpkins.

You love him, but you don’t want to explain the tradition behind pumpkin carving to him right now.

You tap one of your nails against the newspaper-covered counter, your gaze unwavering from the entryway to the living room. 

Now. There’s an idea.

Hunter is a knife guy. It’s a reputation that he’s never going to be able to ditch so long as people know him. He always has at least one sharp knife on him at all times. Not to mention, he’s got the height advantage for leverage for cutting the pumpkins.

You straighten and don’t bother to smother your grin, “Hunter~”

There’s silence for a moment, and then you hear the movie in the next room pause as Hunter stands and makes his way to the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, and you see his gaze drift to the pumpkins, though he doesn’t say anything as his gaze wanders to your face, “Something wrong, cyare?”

“May I, please, borrow your knife?” You ask as you fold your hands under your chin pleadingly.

His dark eyes narrow suspiciously, “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because my knives are sad and I need one to carve the pumpkins.”

“Your knives wouldn’t be sad if you took care of them like I told you.”

“Yeah, but why would I do that when it’s easier to just go out and buy new ones.”

“Is this your plan? Neglect your knives until I come and sharpen them for you?”

“They were, like, 20 credits. I’m pretty sure if you try to sharpen them they’ll shatter.” You point out, “Anyway! Can I borrow your knife? Please? Pretty please?”

He stares at you, and then sighs, “The appearance of the please isn’t going to convince me to let you borrow it.”

You stare at him for a long moment.

“What?” Hunter asks as you stare in silence for just a smidgen too long.

“It’s amazing. I’d swear that you’re my loving wonderful boyfriend, but that can’t be right because Tech just sassed me.” 

Hunter clicks his tongue and reaches out to lightly flick your forehead. “Brat.” He walks around the counter and drops his hands to your hips, “I don’t want you to borrow my knives, cyare, because they’re sharp.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point, babe.”

“Cyare, sweetheart, love of my life,” Hunter lifts you and sets you on the counter, before moving to stand between your legs, “You’re clumsy.”

“I am not!”

He shoots you a look, “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s managed to fall up the stairs.”

“I—”

“We had to make a standard rule that you have to take your sandals off before trying any stairs because you kept falling and it was giving me anxiety.”

“That only happened once!” He shoots you a look, “Okay, like five times.”

“Exactly my point.” He pulls you in so he’s able to press his forehead against yours, “How about, I do the carving and you sit there and manage me.”

You make a face, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Won’t it be more fun to do this together though?”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t trust me.” You say with a pout.

“I do trust you. Just not with a knife or anything sharp that you could use to hurt yourself with you, inevitably, trip over air.”

“I should have dated Wrecker.” You grouse.

“He’d had you wrapped in bubble wrap before you do anything.” Hunter replies, distracted as he looks at the pumpkins, “Is that pumpkin going to be carved to look like my tattoo?”

“...maybe.”

He grins at you and kisses you quickly, “Aww, you have a crush on me.”

“It’s a little more than a crush. Dork.”

Hunter laughs, “Good. I have a little more than a crush on you too.” He kisses you one more time, “Now, shall we get started? You can just sit there and look pretty.”

“If you insist. But I’m not sitting on the counter. I’m getting a stool.”

“Deal.” He watches you hop down from the counter and doesn’t start until you’re perched next to him on the stool.

He’s right, of course. These kinds of things are better when done together.

@kimiheartblade

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[pappydaddy]

when i'm eighty (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: y/n is exhausted and jj neglected the bike's gas tank. who knew it would lead to such a proclamation.

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543 | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover | @taurusvic | @moralina | @verystarfishflower | @4dr1ana | @adr1an4 | @instabull | @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @popeheywardssecretgf | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @444lyra *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: tears (exhausted) | karen situation mentioned | the lovely realities of a retail job

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- not my gif -

Sure, Pogue life was fun and relatively carefree, and Y/N wouldn’t trade her life for anything, but it did have its downfalls. Like when you see something you really like and you pick up extra shifts and work your ass off for it, but a Kook just has to ask their parents for it and boom - they have one they barely use or care for. Or when you accidentally spend too much money grocery shopping so now you have to pinch your pennies until next pay in two weeks. Or, like for Y/N right now, you have to work all day, every day because your crappy minimum wage job is severely understaffed and, even though they treat you horribly, you offer to pick up more shifts. 

  Y/N, right now, wasn’t too pleased with her status as a Pogue. Not when she is standing here, bored out of her mind and swaying on her feet as the middle aged Kook rambled on and on about something. Y/N wasn’t too sure what she was complaining about, truthfully, she stopped listening after the woman called her an incompetent child - which was the very first thing that came out of her pink smeared lips. 

  All she could actually focus on was how heavy her eyelids were, or how much she wanted to cut her feet off or just rip them right from her body. Or the dull ache that nestled itself right in the dip of her spine. Or how much she wishes she could just smash her kneecaps because, at this point, they were so tired and sore they were basically numb. It had been five days straight of her leaving school the second it was over and having her boyfriend, JJ, drive her to her work (a small hardware store), and then working to close. 

  She was exhausted, but she was falling behind on her road to buying a reliable car. Not the heap of rusted metal that has been sitting in her driveway for the past few months - completely broken. Luckily, because the owners did not want the possibility of being sued, they refused to let her work this weekend. That meant, once this woman was done with her tantrum, Y/N could get out of there and sleep for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until JJ had to get up for his shift delivering groceries tomorrow afternoon. She just hoped today wasn’t the one day JJ was late to pick her up. 

  “Mark my words, because you all know nothing, I will never come back here,” The lady slammed her hand against the counter Y/N stood at, the newly hired cashier shaking slightly behind her. “And I will be in contact with your manager and owner for reimbursement for any bills that come from this.” She sneered, gesturing to the empty bottle of antifreeze that was specifically made for diesel engines. That she put in her Land Rover. 

  “You have a nice night, the owner and manager will both be in after nine tomorrow morning.” Y/N drawled like a robot, ignoring the huff and snarky comment the woman made towards her for her lack of respect. There was no way in hell Y/N was apologising to her when Y/N and the manager were the ones who told the woman and her husband not to get that antifreeze, but her husband just wouldn’t listen. 

  “And I am telling them about your horrible behaviour towards me-” 

  “Ma’am,” Their night manager appeared from one of the aisles, looking annoyed. The clock had ticked by to read five minutes after close, meaning this woman was standing there ranting for over ten minutes. “We closed five minutes ago, if you have an issue, you can call and discuss this with our head manager and the owner tomorrow, but now you need to leave unless you want to front the money to pay us the overtime you are causing us because we won’t get paid.” He told her, pointing her towards the exit.

  She scoffed. “Of course I won’t pay you people to be incompetent at your jobs. I mean, how hard is it to sell people items? If anything, I should be getting money for you people for the damages you caused to my expensive Land Rover-”

  “Again, ma’am, you will have to bring that up with the people with more power than me,” The manager looked completely exhausted and annoyed with this woman. He grabbed the empty bottle from where she left it. “Now, you can either leave on your own or I will be contacting the authorities and they will remove you from the premises and you will be banned.” 

  He held out the empty bottle just before she snatched it, her nose turned up as she scoffed, turning on her heel and leaving out the door. “Okay, you two go, I will lock everything up.” He waved them off. Smiling thankfully, Y/N grabbed her thin sweater (which was JJ’s) and her empty plastic bottle of water, tossing it in the recycling bin.

  “Thank you, Gerry. Have fun tomorrow.” She waved bye to him as the new cashier trailed quietly behind her. Pulling the hoodie over her head, she left through the same door the woman had, seeing her fancy silver audi sitting in the parking lot. From inside, she could see her phone pressed to her ear as she yelled. 

  “Hey, sweets,” JJ greeted her, pushing off from the wall he leaned on. Y/N smiled, saying a quick ‘see you’ to the quiet girl as she bounded over towards her mother’s car. Her feet not moving, she held her arms open for JJ, signalling she wanted a hug. JJ complied, striding the short distance to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Naturally, her arms rested on his shoulders, enjoying the relief and comfort his hug brought her. It was like every ache in her body left and the weight that was crushing her lifted. “Long night?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She hummed. “Long week.” She corrected him, snuggling into his chest. He laughed lightly, not wanting to jostle her as she clung to him. 

  “As much as I would love to stay here hugging, we should really get you some food then to bed.” JJ started to pull away. Whining, she released him, the growling and uncomfortable feeling in her stomach too persistent to ignore, but her face remained planted into his chest. 

  “Carry me to the bike?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke. 

  “Sorry, sweets, the bike needs gas and I don’t get paid until next week.” He informed her, hands on her shoulders and pulling her face from his chest, just enough for him to see her face. Instantly, he was met by a pout and a whine from her. 

  She blinked at him, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “But I’m too tired to walk, JJ.” She told him. And looking at her, he could see she was. The eye Bags under her eyes were so deep that the concealer couldn’t even hide them. Her shoulder drooped so much it looked like she was lugging a bookbag that weighed fifty tons on them. And, not to mention, the way her eyes blinked lazily, looking a second away from closing in slumber. 

  Aside from her appearance, he could tell over the past few days she was completely exhausted. The way she kept falling asleep on his shoulder at lunch or as they skipped their respective classes in favour of cuddles. She only skipped classes when she wasn’t sleeping properly or she was bored. The way she was extra clingy (like right now). Or how she nearly face-planted into her breakfast this morning. “I know, Sweets. But the bike didn’t even have enough gas to drive here.” 

  Sighing, tears welled in her eyes. A mixture of exhaustion and stress filled her, creating tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to waste all that gas driving me here and back home.” She weeped, sniffling as she blinked frantically. 

  JJ, nearly shitting himself at the sight of tears, jumped out of his skin in fright. “No, no, Sweets. Don’t cry,” He shushed, wrapping her up in his arms so tight her eyes could pop out of their sockets (not really because he would never hurt her). She sniffled into his sweater, tears hitting his sweater. “I didn’t waste gas driving you. I can never waste anything when it comes to you. I let the tank get that low, it’s my fault. I thought I had enough but John B hit a pothole the other day and I needed to go help him change the tire, that’s where the gas went. It’s all John B's fault for being on the mainland and driving like an idiot.” He rocked them from side to side until the tears slowed and the sniffles seemed to quiet down.

  “John B made you drive all the way to the mainland to help him change the tire?” She asked, pulling her face from his chest, but his arms didn’t let go over her, keeping her pressed to him. Her eyes were watery and puffy, a red tinge to the whites of her eyes. Her face was puffy and blotchy, trails of dried tears running down her cheeks. 

  JJ nodded, moving his arms to grip her face, thumbs lightly rubbing the tear streaks. “Yeah. And the idiot also decided to take everything except the jack out of the van so we had to go get a lug nut wrench which ate up more gas.” 

  “He never learns his lesson, does he?” She laughed. It was wet, her mouth thick from the tears still. 

  “No, he doesn’t,” He whispered, his voice low as he stared at her. “Now, let’s get you home before you fall asleep standing here,�� He stepped back, putting distance between them. She watched with furrowed brows as he turned his back to her, crouching down, practically kneeling on the sidewalk in front of the store. “Hop up.” He told her, arms to his side, stuck towards her slightly, waiting for her to climb onto his back. 

  “JJ,” She exclaimed. “You’re not going to be able to carry me all the way to John B’s!” 

  “Yeah I can. I’m eighteen, not eighty,” He told her, pointing to his back. Sighing, she knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. On top of that, he would find another way to carry her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she hopped onto his back. His hands instantly gripped the bottom of her thighs, securing her there and he stood up to his full height. She let out a small squeal at the sudden change in height, kicking her feet slightly at the feeling of them not being on the ground. It always took her a second to get used to being held on his back. “And even when I’m eighty, I am sure as hell gonna still give you piggy back rides.” 

  “Sure, we’ll revisit that when you are hunched over because you gave me so many piggy back rides now.” She laughed, her arms lazily moving to rest closer to his neck, her chin resting on her bicep as he started to walk towards John B’s. 

  “Why do you think I am in such great shape? I am training to carry you around my whole life.” 

  “If that’s the case, might want to lay off the weed and the booze.” She poked him in the pectoral teasingly. He squeezed her thigh playfully back, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek the best she could before resting her head back on her arm, letting the pattern of JJ’s gate relax her, her eyes growing heavier by the second. She really did hope that when they were eighty, they didn’t lose any of their playfulness - no matter if JJ could carry her or not.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

12. “you don’t have any reason to be jealous, i love you.” with steve harrington

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous, i love you.”

Thank you for this request lovely!!

Dating Steve Harrington came with some added consequences, one of them being that girls were constantly staring at him. You had tried to get used to it, but it was more unnerving that anything. It was especially bad at school when you could hear girls whispering about you behind your back.

It all came to a head when you were standing at your locker one day, your eyes on your boyfriend as he stood by Tommy a few rows down. They were laughing at something when a group of girls walked up, flirting with both of them and not even trying to hide it. You saw a hand make its way to Steve's shoulder as he pushed it off, brushing past the girls and walking towards you.

"Hey, beautiful." His voice was warm as his breath fanned over the back of your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist. When you didn't respond, he knew something was up. "What's wrong?" He carefully spun you to look at him, noticing the frown on your lips. "I hate how they all treat you like you're single. You're not." You pouted as his thumb ran over your bottom lip, a sad smile on his lips.

"There's a reason I walked away. You don't have to be jealous or worry about anyone else, I love you." He sealed the words with a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you close to him before he pulled away and pressed his lips to your forehead. "I'm yours and only yours."

[fiction-is-life]

Congrats on 800 followers!! Can I get the prompt “uh-uh, no more reading before bed. you keep waking me up with your dramatic gasps every time you turn the page." "well, i'm sorry that i engage and connect deeply with literature!” With topper pls bestie

Hiding Something

Author’s Note: Thank you for always being so supportive! You know I love gushing over Topper/Austin with you, and I hope you enjoy this, lovely!!!!

Warnings: Mention of vibrators, married couple, bickering, playful wrestling

~

Topper walked into the low-light of your bedroom from the attached bathroom, shirtless and hair still damp from his shower.  He looked delicious (and he knew it),  but he was surprised when you didn’t roll over to look at him.  You were on your side with your head resting on your hand, probably on your phone.  

He crept up behind you slowly, and you still didn’t notice that he had gotten out of the shower, too engrossed in what you were looking at.  When he got close enough, he pounced.

You startled as his body crashed upon yours, and you threw what you had in your hands away, hoping the bedspread would hide it.  Topper didn’t miss your move though, and he quickly shifted from nuzzling your neck lovingly to batting your hands away from the flung object.  “What do we have here, Mrs. Thornton?  What could you be hiding, hmm?”

You continued to beat his hands away, growing desperate.  “It’s my vibrator!” you cried in a last ditch effort for him to stop searching.

It did make him momentarily stop but instead of retreating, he laughed in your face.  “Baby, that lie isn’t going to work on me.  I know if you wanted, you would have just joined me in the shower; it wouldn’t have been the first time,” he smirked as he said it.  You pouted, conceding the fight as he practically had you pinned - both with his logic and his body.

He kept his eyes on you as his hand finally found what you had been hiding.  His smirk grew impossibly wider.  “Let’s see what you were trying so hard to keep from me.”  He brought the object into his line of vision slowly, and his smirk fell, a storm cloud growing on his face instead.  

“Uh-uh, no more reading before bed.  You keep waking me up with your dramatic gasps every time you turn the page,” he said sternly.  He held the romance novel like it was going to burn him.  

Your face transformed into one of pure innocence.  “Well, I'm sorry that I engage and connect deeply with literature!” you said, surprisingly not breaking character.  

Topper just rolled his eyes and got off of you.  He very purposely placed the book on his nightstand.  He settled down into the blankets.  “I thought you vowed to obey me?” he joked, still acting like he was upset.

You planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek and turned out the lamp you had been using to read.  “We wrote our own vows, husband,” you crowed.

“Oh, shut it, smarty pants,” he groaned but still pulled you close and into his embrace before falling asleep.

~

My Masterlist

Taglist: @adventuresinobx @bradleybeachbabe @starkeyobx @penny4yourthoughts @topperscumslut @drewbooooo @honeybear-yammy @gillybear17 @hoebx @darksideofmyshallow @fangirlfree @get0ut0fmyr00m @poppet05 @graywrites20 @yellowbitchs-blog @laneyy003 @hydraironcaptian @honeybuzzzzzz @powellssugarbaby @ietts @art3mas

[guiltyasdave]

another thing that happened these days 🥰

i can’t say it often enough, i’m so thankful for this community, for all the love and all the friends that i’ve made on here!

if you want, drop anything you can think of in my asks - moodboard requests, fic requests (fair warning, these might take months lol), random questions, games - whatever you want :)

i’m sending everyone the biggest hug you can imagine!

[wild-karrde]

hi Karrde!!! Congratulations on 800, you deserve every single one and more 🤩 you’re so talented and a bright, bold member of our community. The way you care for your characters, and how amazing your OCs are just blows me away!

If I’ve made it in before 20, can I request a ficlet please?

Fox + “what did you think was going to happen?”

Congratulations again 💙💙

AHHHHH THANK YOU SEV!!! YOU ARE TOO KIND AND I AM JUST GRINNING LIKE A FIEND!! Seriously, thank you SO MUCH for the kind words! I'm glad I can make some positive contributions!

I struggled with this one for a bit, but had a sudden idea that I wound up liking A LOT. I hope you do too!

Pairing: Commander Fox x gn!Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: language, some suggestive themes, Fox telling jokes

Word Count: 1.5k words

Your heart thunders in your ears as you race down the alley, already leaping for the chain link fence that blocks off the end of it, fingers digging into the metal to pull yourself up and over. Heavy footfalls slap the pavement behind you, and you tuck and roll as the duracrete on the other side of the fence breaks your fall. You slam into a trash bin, skinning your knees and bruising your shoulders. You’re already pushing yourself to your feet when you see a switch just to the left of the fence. 

Bingo. 

You scramble over to it, slapping on the power, and you hear the electricity in the links hum to life, making them glow and effectively cutting off your pursuers. A red light comes on at the top of the fence, warning anyone around that it’s electrified now, and that they should only touch the fence at their own peril. You kick a half-eaten fruit that had tumbled from the trash bin at it, and it sizzles satisfyingly when it makes contact with the fence. You grin as the familiar voice of a Coruscant Guard echoes down the alley from the direction you came from.

“STOP!” 

Three Corries skid to a halt on the opposite side of the fence. 

“I think she’s activated it sir,” one of the troopers states. 

He’s new.

“Oh, are you sure, Brick? Was the big fucking red light your first clue?” snarls the commander sarcastically, the telltale wings on his helmet glinting in the glow of the fence. 

You extend your middle finger haughtily as you back away from the fence. “Eat shit, Thorn!” You can’t help but grin to yourself as you round the corner. You hear him swear through his vocoder as you trot out of view. 

The bracelet that you’ve swiped off of one of the senators jingles in your pocket as you pull out the credit pouch you snatched off of her husband and begin tallying your score. You’re so absorbed in counting your credits that you don’t even notice the wall of red and white plastoid standing in front of you until you slam face-first into it. You fall backwards onto your ass, the credits bouncing across the pavement with a light tinkling noise as you stare up into the familiar visor of Commander Fox. His arms are crossed over his chest. 

He sighs, muttering your name under his breath. You grin. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Commander,” you tease. 

“Not as fancy as that jewelry poking out of your pocket,” he growls. 

“Oh this? I just picked this up for my uhhh grandmother. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and you know, she just loves her jewels," you lie, shoving the bracelet back in your pocket. He doesn’t move as he watches you clumsily try to scoop some of the credits back into the pouch.

“Am I to assume that credit pouch is for your grandmother also?”

“Yup. You know. In case she wants to get something else if the bracelet isn’t her style.”

“How nice of you to get it monogrammed for her with Senator Siil’s husband’s initials,” he says flatly. 

You wince as you finally note the flowery Aurebesh branded into the leather. “Grandma’s a uh… big fan of his work. As a senator's husband.” 

Fox leans down and offers you a hand, which you take. Like an idiot. He pulls you up before spinning you and pushing you against the wall, slapping a pair of binders on you. You tug at the restraints behind your back, shooting a glare over your shoulder.

“Oh, come on, Fox!” 

He spins you around. “What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to pat you on the ass and let you wander off to shake more people down?” 

You shrug, tongue poking between your teeth. “I mean, if you want to pat my ass, I wouldn’t be that opposed.” 

You can’t see his eyes, but you can practically hear them rolling in their sockets beneath his bucket. 

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you find it endearing.” 

He scoffs. “Not the word I’d choose.” His hand clamps around your forearm as he starts to guide you out of the winding network of alleys. You walk slowly, dragging your last moments of freedom out. You’ve always enjoyed your chats with Fox on the way back to the station anyway, at least before he books you on a petty crime and sends you to lockup for a week or two. You’re pretty sure he likes your interactions too, as much as he’ll deny it. But he isn’t rough with you, and he's not making any effort to rush your pace. That’s all just you speculating though; his bucket does a good job of hiding what he’s actually thinking, which you suspect is the point.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, and you feel his grip on your arm loosen slightly. He knows you won’t run; you know when you’re caught. 

“So, Thorn’s gotten slower,” you note casually. 

He huffs what you think might be a laugh. Hard to tell with the way the helmet's vocoder alters his voice. 

“I’m serious," you insist. "Maybe tell him to lay off the beer and work more cardio into his routine.” 

“I’ll be sure to pass your feedback along.”

“Was that a joke, Commander?”

“Been trying them out every now and then.” 

You can’t help but snicker at that.

The silence resumes for a few more minutes, but this time, he’s the one to break it. 

“Why do you always come here to pickpocket? You know we’re all over the place with all of the rich assholes walking around. The marks may be high-reward, but you can find plenty of Coruscant’s most wealthy in the lower levels, sleazing it up with less savory types. You'd probably have a better shot at getting away too.” 

“Thanks for the tip,” you snipe. “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind for my future criminal endeavors.” 

His grip on your arm tightens enough to stop you. “I’m serious,” he says, the exasperation in his voice clear. He shakes his head before raising his visor to look at you. “Look, things are starting to get a little more harsh up here. With the level of petty crime increasing as the war goes on and who it's impacting the most, there’s a push to start doling out harsher punishments. You’re going to land yourself more than a week in lock-up if you keep adding to your record. I’m talking years in prison.” 

You wish you could see under his helmet right now. You’re studying his visor carefully, looking for any sign as to what’s led to this concern for your well-being. 

“I like it up here,” you reply. 

“Why?” 

You shrug, trying to hide the heat in your cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe I hope I’ll get to see more of a certain commander when he arrests me.” 

“Thorn hates you, just so you know.”

“I’m not talking about–”

“I know. That was another joke.” 

You stare at him blankly for a moment before you burst out laughing loudly. You could swear some of the tension leaves Fox’s shoulders as he watches you, his helmet tilting to one side. 

“That’s good. You’re getting good, Fox.” 

He nods, and you think he might be a little proud. His fingers flex nervously at his sides. “You said it was Thorn that lost you?”

“Yeah him and a couple of shinies. Why?”

You can see Fox considering something, something that makes him nervous, something wildly out of character for him. He reaches forward, spinning you to face away from him, and you feel the binders click loose. You bring your hands to your front, rubbing your wrists as you whirl to face the commander of the Coruscant Guard, who’s tucking his binders back on his belt. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask, completely gobsmacked. 

He shrugs. “Thorn cheated at sabacc last week and still won’t own up to it. I like the idea of being able to hold this over his head and give him shit about it.” 

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if you keep standing here talking to me.” 

You grin, stepping forward and standing on tiptoe so that you can boldly place a kiss on his bucket. You pat the side of it as though it were his cheek. “Thanks, Fox.” 

His hand catches yours as you step away. “If you really want to see more of me,” he says quietly, “just come to the 79s and ask me on a date. Less paperwork and binders involved that way.” 

"But what if I like the binders?"

"I save those for at least the second date," he deadpans.

Heat flushes across your face at his offer. You poke a finger into his chest plate, trying to recover your footing with him. “Fine, but you’re buying.” 

He tosses you the credit pouch, which you clumsily catch. “Nope. The Senator’s husband is. But I’d get rid of that monogrammed pouch.” 

You playfully salute him. “Yes, sir.” 

He nods again before turning on his heel, disappearing into Coruscant’s fading light. 

Thanks for participating in my 800 Follower Celebration!

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kmeekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @gelflet @wolffegirlsunite @teletraan-meets-jarvis @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[devils-dares]

I really think Joel deserves some comfort, so please #3 and/or #14 from the Grumpy x Sunshine prompts with Joel x male reader, maybe? Perhaps something with him overhearing some conversations between the reader and Ellie...?

#3 - sunshine is babbling happily & grumpy is listening

#14 - grumpy is realizing what a different (and much more pleasant) life it would be if sunshine was by their side all the time

wordcount: 528

-----

“...and so when Outbreak Day happened, I think he got turned as well, but he never got to finish the run and I think that is so upsetting. Plus, I had to leave my collections at home! At home, El, where a clicker is probably eating the pages. I spent so much money on that damn collection.”

“So where was it supposed to lead?”

“I’ll never know! I think he was supposed to get married but I’m not sure.”

“Thought you said he had a girlfriend.”

“Who died, Ellie.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.”

Joel sat on the far side of the camp, listening to your voices carry over the air. He loved listening to you talk. You could talk his ear off all day and all night and he wouldn’t care because he loved the sound of you.

You’d been a recent partner, after Tess’s demise. He’d come to hate you, stuck in a mindset that you were here to replace her. He quickly realized he was wrong, with how much you moved around and talked. He’d get every single fact about your favorite comics wrong just so your voice could fill the silence. God, he felt like he could pass a trivia game on your favorite character, the way you’d talk about the comics whenever there was nothing else to talk about.

This was really only the second longer trip the two of you were on, after about eight months of joining. You were refreshing to be around, he noticed. It was like you were an extra ray of sunshine outside and in the QZ.

He was leaning up against a tree, arms crossed in front of him with his eyes closed when he heard you and Ellie start talking in hushed voices.

“So you and Joel, huh?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“What?”

“Me and Joel what?”

“You two look at each other like how I imagine people in love look at each other. It’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have the slightest crush on grumps?”

“We’re calling him grumps now?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“Shh!” you say, glancing at Joel, who’s still trying his best to stay awake while looking asleep, “Maybe? I dunno, I guess so.”

“I knew it!” Your hand slaps over her mouth.

“Shut up and go to bed.”

—--

“You got that look on your face, eyebrows scrunched. Can’t tell if you’re thinking or constipated.”

“I’m not con- Jesus, you’re just like the kid.” Joel says.

“My main character trait.”

“Flaw, I’d say.”

“Yet you continue to ask me to accompany you.”

“And if I’d ask you to keep doing so?” He heard your footsteps stop crunching in the gravel.

“Continue? With you? You’re not gonna shoot me to shut up?”

“Nice to have some blab on like you to fill the quiet.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a little crush on me, Miller,” you elbow him in the side, “I’m just kidding.”

He hums, but he knows you’re not wrong. He promises to himself that as soon as this thing blows over, he’s taking you back to Tommy’s place for a real date.

[spotsandsocks]

Well well well 800 followers - who’d have thunk it. Certainly not me. I’m sure a few will drift off but for now I shall say yay! and thank you if you’re actually out there and seeing this for being part of my spotty tumblr adventures.

I’m having a blast - have a poorly drawn dragon for fun

[loozerboykisser]

so uh fun stuff!!!!!!!!!! I think I reached 800+ followers because of my other blog I had that I recently deleted, because it was dedicated to my boyfriend at the time and on said account, one of my posts blew up, giving me more followers. when I deleted it, I lost a lot. so yeah. there was no point to that entire celebration.

[morganwrites12672]

Can you do 🩰 Jameson Hawthorne x reader, please?

Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

A/N: I love getting TIG requests!

Summary: It was definitely love

Warnings/Tags: Female!Reader, Jameson x reader established relationship (romantic), fluff, fluffffffff, kissing

----------------------------------------------------------

This was love.

The look in Jameson's eyes as he stared back into yours. Was definitely love.

"I think I'm in love with you. Like really in love," Jameson whispered. He hadn't ever felt something like this before.

Your touch gave him butterflies, the mention of your name had him daydreaming.

"That's good." He looks confused before you finish, "because I'm in love with you to." The gap between the two of you is closed as his lips crash into yours

He tastes like whatever whiskey he had been drinking and a faint taste of lemon. Xander must be mad at him if he was giving him lemon instead of blueberry flavored scones.

All thoughts if the other Hawthornes leave your kind as Jameson's hand grasps into yours. He loves the way your hand fit with his. Fingers locked.

Jameson smiled as he pulled away

He didn't say anything. Just drinking in your beauty. Your soft skin was softly lit up in the pale moonlight. It reflected off of your body like the sun off of water. Everything about the scene in front of him was beautiful.

He threaded his fingers through your silly hair. He couldn't love you anymore. Everything about you was completely perfect.

"I don't think I can live without you," he whispered and the tone of his voice and sincerity in his eyes tells you he wasn't joking.

He didn't think he was. The thought of not being able to spend every waking second with you made him sick.

He could live without a lot of things. Hell, he could go longer without oxygen then without you.

"You won't have to, I have no plans of ever leaving," you whispered and cuddled into his bare chest.

The both of you could stay like this forever. Holding into the other for dear life.

----------------------------------------------------------

requests are open!

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

[biblio-smia]

The prompt from list 1 w/ mike Schmidt? The print where it says “what can I do to help?”

Maybe reader has her menstrual cycle and she doesn’t want to tell him because she’s embarrassed?

here u go!! enjoy <3 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

mike stands beside you at the edge of the bed, hovering over you protectively like an angel. it's clear something is wrong by the way you refuse to get up, your knees tightly curled up to your chest, and the frown that won't disappear from your face. mike is forced to play detective, seeing as you decline to tell him exactly what's going on.

"what can i do to help?" mike asks sweetly. you turn to look at him; his demeanor is gentle, his eyes are full of concern.

you groan. "go away." you roll back over, taking the blanket and pulling it over your head.

"well, at least you're not sick," you hear mike's slightly muted voice say from outside the little cocoon you hide in. a few moments of suspicious silence pass before you feel the spot beside you sink down with mike's weight. you feel him shift beside you, sure that if you stick your head out you'll see him staring at you.

well, you need more air anyway.

you pull the blanket down partially - and as suspected, you're face-to-face with mike. it's quiet, but while mike may struggle to find the right words to say, he wastes no time with the gentle touches. his hand finds your shoulder (only struggling a little), rubbing up and down your arm softly.

"will you tell me what's wrong?" mike's voice is sweeter than sugar when he speaks, not too loud in case your head hurts.

you move, but you move closer and when you groan, it's into mike's chest. the warmth he radiates doubles as comfort, bringing some relief to your body as you cling to him.

"nothing," you insist quite unconvincingly, burrowing your head deeper into mike.

but mike doesn't push. he only digs his way underneath the blanket with you, hands on your back soothingly. he's desperately hoping you'll fess up soon because he's running out of options.

you groan again, fingers messing with a loose thread on mike's shirt as you try to avoid looking at him.

"my uterus is bleeding," you finally admit, looking incredibly deflated.

mike holds back any relief from showing on his face, glad it's just that (he seriously feared you were going to tell him you were breaking up with him) though he currently would not dare to express this to your face. maybe next week.

"okay," mike nods, giving a quick press of his lips to your forehead. "that's fine. that's fixable. well - not fixable, but we can make it better."

you're quiet, still messing with mike's shirt. your fingers ball up some of the fabric as you manage the strength to look up at mike. "we?"

"we," mike nods in confirmation. he doesn't mind expressing the relief he feels when your expression of despair finally cracks with a smile. mike pulls you closer and adjusts until he hears a pleased sigh from your lips.

he holds you there for a few moments, transferring you the warmth from his hands and his chest. mike's fingers draw small patterns on your exposed skin, acting as an all-encompassing, at-your-service heating pad.

mike doesn't mind the new job, enjoying the proximity he keeps to you and pleased to know he's able to do something that makes you feel better. mike notices your eyes beginning to close, glad you're able to get some more rest.

"now will you tell me what you need?" mike asks before you can fall to sleep, wanting to be prepared by the time you wake up.

you groan so softly it's more like a hum, sending small vibrations through mike. "it's a whole list," you complain.

"i'll get everything on it and more."

mike feels your smile against his skin.

[phoenixtakaramono]

THE SEVEN WEDDING SPECIAL

“The Vought family grows by one as our distinguished captain, The Homelander, ties the knot with reformed supervillain William Butcher! Tune into VNN+ and Vought Entertainment for the most anticipated A-list superhero wedding of the century! Join us as we set the stage for the extravaganza and wish them a hopeful happily ever after.”

TY for 800+ followers on Twitter! I'd think it'd be neat if Homelander and Butcher kiss and have a Superhero Wedding Ceremony Special atop Vought Tower's helipad 🕊

[pappydaddy]

pesky hair (j.m.)

a/n: this title sucks, i am sorry, i had nothing! reminder! i am testing out a new format, idk if i like it yet

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj recounts the most memorable times he did something about y/n's pesky hair

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543 | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover | @taurusvic | @moralina | @verystarfishflower | @4dr1ana | @adr1ana | @instabull | @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @popeheywardssecretgf | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @444lyra | @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: fluff | fluff | fluff | descriptive appearance (tried to be as vague as possible)

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

____

  Y/N had a love-hate relationship with her hair. Cute cut that’s low maintenance to style - love! Being able to let her hair air dry after a long day of swimming - love! The very, very infrequent bed head monstrosity - love! When her hair just won’t go up in a claw clip properly - hate. When her bangs wouldn’t dry right so now she’s stuck with weirdly shaped bangs - hate. The times when she can’t wash her hair on the proper hair wash day and her hair starts to morph into little mats and tangles - hate. Those little strands of hair that just keep falling out of place and getting into her face - triple, no, quadruple; no, infinitely hate. Actually, she loathes it and it makes her want to chop off all the hair on her head despite the fact that she absolutely adores it. She was truly blessed with great hair - a miracle many people envied.

  JJ has learned this throughout their long friendship turned romantic relationship. He actually learned this way back in middle school when he noticed her starting to wear headbands all the time. Of course, he had to figure out why she kept pushing her hair back when he knew she loved her hair. Now he realises that the reason he knew she loved her hair and noticed she was suddenly really into headbands was because he was head over heels for the girl who lived beside his best friend. 

  Since the day he learned it bugged her, he had dreamed of taking the hair and brushing it behind her ear while she talked (so enthralled in her conversation) like he sometimes saw her do. While they were close in their friendship, there was a level of intimacy to the action that crossed the “just friendly” boundary and JJ would shit himself if he knew she knew how he felt for her. Because how would someone like her ever love someone such as JJ Maybank? 

  The first time JJ actually did it was completely involuntary. Autonomic if you will. It was a few months into their relationship. It was all flushed faces, shy glances across the room as they hung out with the other Pogues, and awkward touches until they fit together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. They were alone outside of John B’s. The rest of the Pogues having retired into the house for the night. 

  The only light coming from the moon, the stars, the dim fire in front of them, and the fireflies dancing around the air. Y/N was talking about her favourite show, talking fast and adamantly about the theories, how things connect to each other, and her opinions on everything. JJ had to be honest, he was not retaining any of it. He was too captivated by how pretty she looked right then and there. With the excitement in her eyes, the way her hands flew through the air as she explained everything. The way she would cut herself off as she was explaining one thing and start explaining another thing because she suddenly remembered it. And then he saw it. The slight, aggressive flick of her head trying to get that annoying stand of hair out of her face and the daydreams started. 

  He tried to ignore them as he started to try to take in some of the information she was giving him, but he could see the frustration start to build in her as she resorted to blowing at the hair in between words. At first, he thought he had imagined reaching out, his fingers lightly brushing against her cheek as he gingerly tucked the strand behind her ear. He had assumed he had imagined it because that has been what he’s done for the past six years. But the way her rant was suddenly cut off by her own shock made him realise that he did not imagine it. 

  Instantly, his own face dropped, his heart dropping to his ass along with it. A raging blush overcame both their faces as they stared at each other, wide eyed and completely short-circuiting. But soon, once the shock wore off and the sparks beneath their skin from where they touched subsided, they fell back into place - this time much closer (physically and emotionally). 

____

  The second time was smoother if you asked JJ. This was almost a year into their relationship. Intimacy was at an all time high. Butterflies still swirled in the stomach, but the awkward phase had released its grasp on them. Blushes still adorned their cheeks and the L-word was on the tips of their tongues. 

  It was midsomers, she was invited by Sarah and Kie invited Cleo while the boys found work at the party. It was supposed to be a girls night, but JJ convinced the boys to find jobs “just in case those Kooks try to pull a fast one on our girls” he had claimed. They already knew that he just wanted to see Y/N all pretty in her dress under the dim lighting of the outdoor festivities. 

  JJ’s shift as bar back had ended since he set up the bar meaning the second bar back was tasked with cleaning it up. For the most part, the party was over, but Y/N still sat at one of the tables. Moonlight and fairy lights illuminating her as she sipped at what was left of her wine. “This seat taken?” He had asked flirtatiously, earning a tipsy giggle from her. 

  “Well, I was hoping my boyfriend would be along soon, but I guess it’s free.” She waved a dismissive hand at the chair with a smothered giggle slipping past her lipstick-covered lips. 

  JJ pulled the seat out from the table, scooting it impossibly close to Y/N’s before sitting in it, happy to finally get off his feet. They were throbbing in the damn dress shoes and his suit was too tight and constricting, but being able to see her having fun tonight and dancing was all worth it. “That boyfriend of yours must be awfully lucky to manage to have a girl like you like him.” 

  She hummed in fake thought. “Actually, I think I’m the lucky one,” She admitted, leaning towards him. Getting the hint, JJ also leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips sweetly. She hummed against his lips, melting against him the best she could in two separate chairs. “I am so tired.” She declared. 

  “I’d say,” JJ snorted endearingly. “I think you and Sarah spent most of the night dancing and consumed a half a bottle of champagne each.” He recounted the night. Luckily, he kept track of how much they were drinking so he knew what type of tipsy he was dealing with. 

  “We had fun, shut up.” She pouted, tipsily hitting his chest in fake hurt. His chest shook under her hand as he laughed at her. Looking at her, smudged and faded lipstick mostly staying on her lips, her eyes heavy but so bright and wide at the sametime. Her voice was light but slightly louder than normal. But what got JJ was her hair. Once perfectly styled into some complicated half-up half-down updo with “face framing” (whatever that meant, JJ had no idea but he loved it), now the curls had mostly fallen out and instead of a few strands of hair in her face, most of her hair was loose. 

  Watching her nose twitch as her pesky stranglers that slipped out of her updo tickled her cheek, he reached his hand up, fingers lightly brushing against her warm cheekbone (from the alcohol induced flush). Enjoying the feeling of her soft skin under his fingertips for a moment, he continued to tuck the annoying hair behind her ear. Her glossy eyes looked up into his, swimming with affection. “I know you did, Bub. Let’s get you to bed so you can rest from you fun night.” 

____ 

  The third time was by far JJ’s favourite. She was sitting there in front of him in the darkened room, candles surrounding them, illuminating them and the room in a dim glow. Both of them were tired but buzzing at the same time. In the candle light, he could see the white gown she wore, a figure of beauty. The centre of attention for the whole day not just because she was the bride. 

  “What do you say, Mr. Maybank,” She whispered, her eyes dancing with mischief. JJ didn’t say anything, knowing she had more to say. Instead, he just looked at her with nothing but admiration and love within his blue eyes. Her makeup was worn off for the most part, mascara flaked, lipstick rubbed off (mostly by his own lips), and her foundation slightly caked from all the celebrations at the reception. “Feel any different?” She asked with a lift of her eyebrow, a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. 

  His own smile took over as he lifted his hand. Her eyes fluttered closed, already anticipating his touch, leaning her cheek closer to his hand to meet him. She let out a little content sigh when she felt his fingertips brush her cheekbone, tucking the hair behind her ear before settling along her jawline. Warmth filled her heart, so overwhelming that she nuzzled her cheek further into his hand, trying to express how much she loved it. 

  “Even more in love with you, Mrs. Maybank.” He whispered, leaning towards her face until his lips met hers in a sweet, passionate, and long kiss. One that made Y/N’s inner school girl giggle and kick her feet in the air as if she were reading one of her cheesy teen romance novels that she loved so much back then.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

#11 with Bradley! 😍

#11 - "Friends don't kiss like we do."

Thank you for the request, lovely!

Growing up next to the Bradshaw's was both a blessing and a curse, you were starting to realize. It was a blessing because you got to become best friends with Bradley, but that was also the part of it that seemed like a curse on some days.

You were sitting on the floor of his house in Fightertown, an open bottle of whiskey sitting beside you. "Roo, you're too far away." Your words were slightly slurred and had an edge of a whine to them as you reached out for your best friend. He had an easy smile on his lips as he watched you from the couch.

He was amused as he watched you down shot after shot, a chuckle leaving his lips as he scooted down onto the floor beside you. He provided his shoulder for you to lean on, your pupils big and blown staring up at his own big brown irises. "You're really pretty, you know that?" Your words were giving away how drunk you were, your fingers running over the stubble on his face. "I really don't know how you're single."

Rooster had grown used to the attention you paid to him when you were intoxicated like this. You would always get super cuddly and lovey, and he could never tell you no. However, as he looked down and saw you staring at his lips, he couldn't help but lean down and capture them with his. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding his brain, or maybe it was how pretty you looked. Hell, it might have been a mixture of the two. He didn't know, but he knew that you were intoxicating.

This was a normal occurrence between the two of you, more so when you had both been drinking. His hands found your waist as he pulled you into his lap, kisses sloppy and mixed with the taste of cheap beer and whiskey. "You know.. most friends don't kiss like we do." Your words were breathy and quiet, your lips leaving his briefly to try and catch your breath for just a second. His hand slid up from your waist to cup your cheek in his hand, a small smirk on his lips. "They might not. But, they're definitely missing out on how amazing it is." With that, his lips were back on yours again.

The two of you did not have the most conventional friendship, but you knew he was right. You would rather be semi-friends with benefits with him than lose him entirely. That thought kept running through your mind as the kisses kept getting more and more heated, passion running through both of your bodies. Yeah, this wasn't so bad.