#I just had coffee and am now making tea

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I’ll make myself tea, drink half of it, forget it, and then be less sure what i want to do when I find it again three hours later

[whatevers-inconvenient]

today was in so many ways stressful enough to trigger a migraine so i need to stop staring into my phone but over 3 hours (london innit) to and from a medical appointment WITHOUT EARPHONES means i had to percieve the coughing crowded world for much longer than sustainable & need to decompress but and the only cure i know is Grace/Wastelands and scrolling so... 🤷‍♀️

[scienceoftheidiot]

Should I jeopardize today and tomorrow by drinking coffee right now because I crave the taste and I need the instant boost but the boost has 70% chances to happen AND a 50 to 80 % chances to make me fall asleep in the very near future and then stop me from sleeping tonight ?

Or not ?

[hotroadkill]

god i’ve been so busy since school started last week this is insane. do people do this all the time. i’m keeping up w classes and doing the homework and socializing & like its good! i have made friends and i’m building good habits & i’m not setting myself up for failure at the end of the semester anymore! but GOD i am tired

[propertyofwicked]

YOU OWE ME - LN

warnings: none, just fluff (inspired by that one CL stream). this is so short pls forgive me

(also, anyone else seen the pics of lando in aus? FERAL for that man.)

“tier 1 sub - max can you tell lando to get off his computer and let me in the flat please im freezing” max reads out, bursting into laughter, “youre in trouble mate.”

max hears a travelling shout of swearing, getting quieter as lando’s headset is thrown to the desk and his entire body hurtling towards the front door.

“shit shit shit shit,” lando shouts, his fingers struggling with the keys left on the inside of the door. finally he manages to unlock the door and pull it open to see his girlfriend, rosy cheeked and a less than impressed expression.

“lando, how many times have i said to take the keys out of the door if you lock it and im not home - especially if youre not going to answer your phone.”

“im sorry baby, im sorry i know - i forgot,” he mumbles, his hands taking yours and bringing them to his face. he flinches slightly at the sheer coldness of your fingers, “do you want a drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee? it’ll warm you up”

“i’d love a cup of tea,” you smile sadly, shrugging your horribly thin jacket off. honestly, with the typical english winter, your jacket was almost useless in combatting the cold winds anyways. you move to follow lando into the kitchen, watching him fill the kettle and move to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“come here,” you say, opening your arms slightly for lando to move into. he moves to you instantly.

“you’re not angry at me?”

“no, i am. youre just warm” you say, looking up to smile at him. his hands fall to your waist, gripping your hips and hoisting you up to sit on the counter, but he doesn’t move back into your embrace. instead, his arms move to take his hoodie off himself, and pull it over your head.

“better?”

“slightly,” you're still smiling at him as you adjust the hoodie - lando can tell you're not angry at him, just slightly irritated.

“the heating’s on, my office is warm - you wanna go sit in there whilst i finish your tea, angel?” he asks, his hand stroking your cheek, “max is on call if you wanna talk to him for a bit? he’s streaming but you already know that,” he grins, his tongue sticking into the side of his cheek.

“i think max’s chat deserve to know how bad of a boyfriend you are,” you joke, hoisting yourself off the counter, ready to march on in and complain to the stream. lando’s hand catches your arm, spinning you back into his chest. his hand comes back to your cheek, and tilts your head back.

“im sorry baby, you know i am,” he frowns slightly - you reassure him that he is forgiven by pressing a small kiss to his lips. once again you go to move, but he pulls you back in, kissing you again - repeatedly pecking kisses all over your face and eventually your lips. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for more. you pull your head back slightly, desperate to go and rat him out to max but his teeth nip down on your bottom lip again to prolong the connection.

“i don’t think so, lan,” you giggle, smiling up at him again. lando groans and swears you almost skip your way to his office, excited to tell max as he prepares for a night of grovelling.

“max. you’ll never believe this man,” you sigh, after popping lando’s headset on your own head.

“y/n! how are you?”

“freezing, max. and £10 poorer now i’ve had to sub to your twitch to be let into my own flat.”

“oh yeah, thanks for the sub,” max laughs out, looking at the chat, “it’s ok, chat reckon you should invoice lando for the inconvenience.”

“i think i might have to you know, although he’s making me a cup of tea right now and i might be able to pout my way into a takeaway tonight.”

“y/n that man is so whipped i don’t think you need to pout your way into him doing anything for you,” he responds, his emphasis on anything making you grin slightly.

minutes later, lando comes into the room, using his foot to kick the door open in front of him, his hands full with your mug and your lip balm. hang on, lip balm?

“here you go baby,” he says, placing the mug down on the coaster on his desk, “i put honey in it for your throat, and i brought your lip balm ‘cos your lips are dry,” he grins as he hands you the lip balm.

“my lips wouldn’t be dry if you’d answered the phone the first time i rang you,” you say, the eye roll evident in your voice, even to max who couldn’t see your face.

“hang on, y/n, how does he know your lips are dry?” max interrupts, his laugh travelling through the headset.

“because max, when two people love each other very muc-”

“ew stop it,” lando interjects, as he sets up a second set of headphones to join in the chat.

“he’s trying to regain my love with physical affection.”

“i can tell from your tone that it’s not working.”

“well, after that ‘ew’ i think i may have to revoke all physical affection.”

“you wouldn’t,” lando gasps, his hands dramatically clutching his chest.

“order dominoes and ill reconsider. you owe me.”

“yeah lando, and send her £10 to cover the cost of the twitch sub,” max shouts, siding with you, “chat also think you should, as a courtesy.”

you don’t say anything, but turn to look at him, puppy dog eyes and a pout to complete the look.

“fine! fine,” he laughs again, holding his hands up in surrender, “i was going to offer anyways.”

“sure you were,” you and max manage to say simultaneously.

-

an hour later, your food had arrived and your saying goodbye to max and his chat, as lando goes to the door. however, by the time you shuffle into the living room, lando has began setting up netflix, sat next to a mound of blankets he’d brought in from your bedroom.

“hey you, come ‘ere,” he says, leaning his back against the arm of the sofa and tapping the space between his legs. once you were settled, your back resting on his chest, he leans to grab the pizza box on the coffee table in front of you - it went down quickly.

“funny how hungry you get when you’re left shivering in the freezing cold for hours," you think out loud.

“it wasn’t hours and i didn’t do it on purpose y/n,” lando whines, scoffing slightly at the time embellishment, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he did.

“i know baby, i’m sorry. you’re forgiven,” you start to feel bad for him. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before manoeuvring you both further down the sofa until he’s laying completely flat, and you roll over so that your head can lay on his chest. the two of you lay in silence for a few moments, the tv still playing quietly in the background, and you feel his chest moving with every breath.

lando's hands wander underneath his your hoodie, and begin to trace small shapes on your skin, making you shiver slightly. then, a thought hits you.

“someone needs to make a compilation of F1 drivers accidentally locking their girlfriends out because they’re streaming,” he laughs as you say it, your whole body shaking from the shuddering of his laughing, "it seems to happen more than you'd think."

“hey! i wasn’t streaming - max was, i was just there. AND! i paid you back, charles never paid his girlfriend back for the sub.”

“oh, aren’t you generous.”

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[honestly-what-the-lix]

I Should Be Jealous.

Summary: Chan, your boyfriend, sees you cuddling Jinsung and his heart melts a little.

Warnings: Just fluff for our sweet boys.

W.C.: 750

Notes: Idk, I am in love with Chan, but I want to baby the shit out of the Sunshine Twins.

You’d been peacefully reading on the couch, waiting for the boys to wake up on their day off for about half an hour before the first sign of life caught your attention. The door to one of the bedrooms opened and closed, followed by sleepy footsteps coming down the hall.

You looked up over the edge of the book to see Jisung’s puffy face and tousled hair. “Morning Ji.”

“Morning, Noona.” He mumbled back as he walked sluggishly to the couch.

“Still sleepy?” You asked, slipping the bookmark between the book pages and setting it to the side.

He nodded, his tired pout playing on his lips.

“C’mere.” You flipped the blanket that had been laying over your legs to the back of the large L-shaped couch and opened your arms for the boy.

He wasted no time in laying his body over yours in a koala fashion.

You flipped the blanket back down to cover him before sliding your fingers through his hair and humming and rocking just slightly until his breathing evened back out.

Keeping one arm over his back, you reached to grab your book and continued reading until rustling caught your attention from the same hallway a little while later. Floorboards creaked slightly as someone made their way down the hall and into the living room.

You smiled brightly as a barefaced, curly haired Chris emerged. “Good morning handsome.” You whispered, subconsciously rubbing Jisung’s back to keep him asleep.

“Good morning baby.” He replied just as quietly as he walked over to kiss your forehead. “You want some coffee?”

“Hmm, would you make me tea instead?” You asked, earning a nod as made his way into the kitchen.

You turned your head so you could watch him as he boiled the water for your tea and started the coffee for himself, only drifting your gaze down to Jisung when a few soft snores slipped past his lips. Your gaze returned to Chan who lifted up the sugar container with a raised eyebrow, a silent ask of how much. You raised two fingers and he nodded as he filled your mug.

He walked back in with two mugs and settled next to you on the couch. “I should be jealous of this, you know.” He chuckled lowly, motioning to the boy sleeping on top of you.

You smiled and shook your head. “Yeah, maybe if it wasn’t one of your members. Though, no one but the members are allowed to, so.” You sipped your tea quietly as Chan rested his head on your shoulder.

“I adore you for how well you take care of them, you know.” He reached up to Jisung’s back to lace his fingers with yours, helping rub the younger man’s back.

“I’m dating their dad, I wouldn’t dream of being the wicked stepmother.” You kissed the top of his head, causing him to giggle a bit.

Felix walked out next and pouted. “I want Noona cuddles.” He whined a little louder than you would have wanted.

“Shh, Lix. Ji is sleeping.” You still motioned him over though. “Lay across Channie and I’ll play with your hair, hm?” You offered, setting the now empty mug on the end table.

Chan’s smile was wide as he repositioned himself so the younger boy could lay across him.

Felix laid on his back, his head resting on Jisung’s arm but turned to face you with a content smile.

Your now free hand slipped into Felix’s hair, gently twisting the strands between your fingers and lightly scratching his scalp.

“This is nice.” Felix hummed, eyes closing to bask in the attention.

Chan squeezed your hand as he mumbled a soft, “It is.”

“Yeah, until Binnie gets up and wakes Hanji.” You pressed a kiss into the boy’s hair.

Felix giggled, nodding in agreement.

“What do you guys want to do today?” You ask, cheek resting against the spot you kissed on Jisung.

“We could go for lunch, take a walk down by the river, and get some ice cream.” Chan suggested, wondering what that would be like with your future children.

“Lunch!” The yell came from the stairs, causing Jisung to jerk awake and push up a little to look around with wide, confused eyes.

“Seo Changbin.” You scolded, head snapping to the side to look at the boy in question.

His mouth puckered and his eyes widened. “Sorry Noona.”

Chan and Felix burst out laughing as Jisung buried his face deeper into your neck with a whine.

[fum1ku]

LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

[redflagshipwriter]

ANOTHER UNDEAD FENTON

Inspiration came from this post by @stars-obsession-pit !

Word count: 1479

Masterpost of Archive Down Fics here.

(I wrote three dp x dc fics based off of prompts I've seen in the last day for reading while the site is getting maintenance. )

There was a high, shrill scream in the Fenton lab.

Maddie bolted for the stairs, abandoning her coffee without a thought. She flung herself down to see Jack bent over a body in front of the portal.

“Is this person a threat?” Maddie prepared to defend her husband, but the body didn't move.

Jack looked up at her. “No, I was just surprised! I think he's hurt, Mads.”

Her bleeding heart husband. She crossed the room and rolled their intruder over to see it was a kid, maybe Danny's age. In his sleep, he had a sweet, soft face. His face and throat were covered in faint scars.

Well. That was one of hers, now. No getting around it. That was a teenage boy on her floor who has obviously been the victim of violence.

“Well, shit,” Maddie said companionably. She blew out air between her teeth. “Dear, would you put clean sheets on in Jazz's room?”

They were running out of space, between the clones and the past evil alternate future children.

Jack saluted her, shouted an affirmation , and bounded away.

Maddie took a moment to wonder if her children would be an infinitely expanding collection and if so, if it would be better to move into Vlad's castle than to build the home addition they had planned for.

She gathered the teenager up in her arms despite him being her size, and laid him out on an exam table. She started checking his vitals.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Maddie said. She redirected her hand to smooth hair behind his ear. He blearily followed the movement, just as obviously intelligent as he was obviously compromised. She didn't know if it was a concussion or drugs or what, but this boy was not well. “It's Friday June 29th, and you're in Amity Park, Illinois. I'm Madeleine Fenton and you're at my house because you fell through a portal. Is there someone I should call for you?”

He stared at her. She could see the moment he decided not to speak to her.

That situation didn't change much all day. The kid walked himself up to bed and peered around at Jazz's old posters. He seemed to want to be alone, but Maddie caught him watching Dani and Dan playing catch in the yard. She made eye contact with him over her book and then looked back at her shrieking kids. Dan was doing flips on the trampoline and launching his sister in the air, catching and tossing her back up in the nick of time between flips.

Their new boy closed his curtains.

“I was thinking about Dante,” Jack said, bringing out a pitcher of iced tea. “Or, how about Jasper! Eh? Eh? You know, like Jazz-per?” Jack belly laughed.

“He probably has his own name,” Maddie said calmly. She'd estimated him at 16 or so, anyway. But whatever. If he wasn't going to give them a name, they did eventually need something to call him. And they needed to sort out accommodation fast, before Jazz got back from her college tour trip.

“Let's go with Jasper until he gives us his real name.” There were enough Ds in her home, honestly.

She lured Jasper out of his room for lunch. He sat at the kitchen table and watched them all warily. He only ate what they ate.

Danny arrived mid-meal. “Mom! Dad!” There was a whumpf as he probably threw himself onto the sofa. “We wanna go to Elmerton, that ok?”

“You should take your brother with you,” Maddie called back. “He needs clothes.”

“What?” Danny clearly pried himself up and came into the kitchen. Maddie silently offered to make him a plate. “No, I ate at Tuck's. Dan, what'd you do to your clothes?”

“Nothing, you pathetic worm,” said Dan, who really was a sensitive boy. “I am not the topic of discussion, you blithering fool.” He jerked a finger at Jasper. “New one.”

Danny stared.

Jasper looked uncomfortable. He gave a sort of hello nod.

“He's, uh, he's not-”

“Not a clone or alternate future version of you, nope,” Maddie agreed. “Though he did come out of the portal. We wondered if he might be a ghost, but it didn't seem necessary to ask.”

Jasper full body flinched at the word “ghost”, but he looked confused.

Danny squinted at his new bother who, it must be said, did look a bit like a Fenton already. “Not a ghost,” he said after a long pause. “But a little undead. Not sure what kind. But yeah, you're walking dead, buddy.” He clapped Jasper on the shoulder.

“You'll fit right in!” Jack cheered. “Dan is half dead! So is Danno! And so is Dani here! And-”

“Thank you, Jack,” Maddie cut him off. “It might be a sensitive subject, don't you think?”

“Nah,” said Danny, stealing food out of the pan despite saying he wasn't hungry. “We aren't that sensitive. Like-” he looked at Jasper and explained: “I got electrocuted to death in the lab two years ago. Dan is from an alternate future where everyone he loved died, so then he killed everyone else on earth. And Dani is a science experiment baby.”

“It's true,” Dani said solemnly. “I'm a work of science.”

“You make me sound so uncool,” Dan complained, stabbing at his spaghetti.

Jasper laughed for the first time. He himself seemed surprised by the sound. It was hoarse but there was promise there.

When the boys were off at the mall in Elmerton with Sam and Tucker, Maddie called up Vlad.

“You want to come here?”

“I’ve got more kids than I have rooms in my house,” she said wryly. “So if the offer is still open…”

“Yes, of course it is,” he assured her. “But- most of the little ones are still in the Ghost Zone, correct?”

“They're not big enough to leave yet,” Maddie agreed. “Which is why I need to be near a portal.” The ghostlings were staying with the LunchLady and Box Ghost, but they needed to be able to be in touch. “But no, I've got another one.”

Glass shattered in the background. “Another- what happened to Daniel this time?”

Maddie laughed at how flustered her old college friend got. “Nothing to do with Danny, actually, this one fell out of the portal. He's some level of partly dead, but we don't think he's a ghost at all.”

Left unsaid was that they needed to do a lot of research to figure out what other possibilities there were. If they could get into contact with Danny's GP, he might be able to get them on the right track.

“Well.” Vlad took a moment to rally. “When will the family be arriving?”

Two months later, all the kids were pretty settled in.

Jasper had never shared a name, but he was happy to let them call him Jay. He was a phenomenal big brother to Dani. He wrestled with Dan. He bullied Danny into doing his homework. It had been something of an administrative nightmare to get Jaspen enrolled in school, but Vlad had pulled off whatever magic trick he'd done for Dani (applied a lot of money to the problem, Maddie supposed) and Jay had settled in very well.

“Your debut in society,” Maddie hummed, making a point of straightening Jay’s tie. He was growing already, she was sure of it! He was going to wind up as tall as Jack.

“I've been to parties before, Mom,” Jay drawled, and then flushed a dark red that meant he didn't want to be asked questions. Maddie tweaked his nose instead of answering.

“But this is the first one where Vlad's introducing you to his business friends!” She said, already dressed up for a fun night. Vlad had flown them all in on his private jet for the day.

“Queen is a family man as well,” Vlad had said the night before, aiming for calculating and coming off soft. “It will put him off his guard or perhaps make him sick with envy that I have brought a higher quality child than he could ever manage to produce.”

They arrived together, Maddie on Jack's arm, keeping her flock of kids within eyesight as Vlad led the pack. She had a perfect view of Oliver Queen seeing them arrive, the smile dropping off his face, and him choking on his drink. He did look very silly, Maddie had to admit.

“Inept,” Vlad hissed, very pleased. “The fool can't even drink. His company will be mine-” he looked at Danny for some reason. Vlad faltered at whatever be saw. “....Through legitimate business practices, such as buying a majority of stocks,” Vlad weakly finished.

Maddie slapped him on the back. “Go get him, tiger.”

[darnell-la]

Can you guys please do another fic about Logan and the bartender I’m so hooked on your page🫶🏾

pairing: sub soon dom!logan howlett x bartender!reader

warnings: heavy drinking, attachment issues, heavily drink, lots of begging, oral (fem receiving), face riding while standing up, orgasm, overstimulation, dominance, submission, scratching, choking, rough fuck, cream pie, baby trapping, etc.

note: Logan feels like he needs to be more of a man. he’ll get to that after he submits to his pretty girl.

———

Logan and y/n have been in a talking stage for a month now. The man would come to her work every day, bringing lunch and sitting in the building until she clocked out, and then they’d make their way over to the bar across the street.

Getting y/n drunk was something Logan loved seeing. She was so wild, loose, and beautiful. She got along well with Wade, and of course with Vanessa.

Logan thought that maybe he’d pick up his dominance by getting her so wasted, that he could do whatever he wanted to her, letting her know he was the one in charge, and not her.

Even though he loved the way she ducked him dry that night, he felt like he had to be more of a man. He grew up in different generations where being a man was something that he needed to be.

Every single time Wade brought y/n back him, he failed. She was so damn convincing when she begged to ride him or suck him until he saw stars.

At first, he thought he won the dominance title because she’d be the one on her knees submitting to him, but by the end of the night, he was the own squirming around and begging for more or for her to take it easy on him — “please,”.

Tonight’s another night where Logan took the girl home. She’s drunk, but not as drunk as he wanted her to be. Instead, he was the one who drank too much.

“Why won’t you let me move in?” Logan whined as he leaned back on her apartment door, closing it behind him. Y/n giggled as she bent over to take her shoes off, then his.

“You’re the one that said you didn’t want to move in too early. Said you wanted to make more money and move us out somewhere away from people,” y/n reminded the man, but he wasn’t fully thinking right either way.

“Well, that’s stupid! I-I can take the TVA money and escape from this place. With you,” the man said as y/n helped him to her room, which is basically his room as well since he’s stayed over almost every night since they met.

“I told you not to use your hero money on me, babe. They gave that to you to save and spend for yourself,” Y/n reminded him about that as well.

“B-But, I am doing this for me. Wanting you around me all day is way better without seeing you work behind the counter while I’m just fucking- fucking declining Amazon orders like some robot!”

Y/n had gotten Logan a job. An online job since he whined about wanting to be around he more. All the man had to do was decline the few hundred orders that came through every week, but that was too much for him.

The man talked to her about moving out to the country where he could chop wood for a living, and she could watch him do so while drinking coffee or tea.

Y/n felt off about that idea because Logan was a superhero. An old one at that, and he didn’t need to be working, right? Sometimes she doesn’t consider his strength, but at the end of the day, she feels like she should be the one working.

“Baby, let’s just take this slow, okay? You haven’t even gotten your second paycheck — They pay you monthly and you got a good check a few days ago, right?” Y/n asked the man as he finally sat down on her bed where she put him.

“Yes,” he pouted, not wanting to argue about that money he received. He spent a lot of it on y/n already. Buying her new clothes, shoes, cooking objects, and more. He loved her cooking.

“Alright then,” y/n smiled at the man with a shake of her head. He always worried, but he didn’t have to. Y/n felt good where she was at, but Logan had been planning with Wade already.

Wade didn’t see a such thing in a talking stage between them in the first place, so when Logan came to him, planning to move forty-five minutes out to a nice new cabin and getting that wood-cutting job, Wade was all the way in.

“Using all that money to impress a girl you just met — Sounds like a damn good plan, peanuts,” was all Wade could say. He loved this for Logan, and if he had to bully and make y/n feel bad for not accepting it, he would.

“Let’s get you undressed, baby. We’ll shower tomorrow since I have to change the sheets anyway,” y/n spoke in her soft and sweet voice as she undressed the huge man.

He was a big baby, and he’d always think about that. Even now, he couldn’t help it. He loved being taken care of like this. Having a job and providing a cabin is something he had to do eventually, but letting y/n baby him, was something he could deal with.

“Are you gonna undress too?” The man asked, eyes barely being able to stay open a focused on hers. His hands reached up and tugged on the girl's shirt, wanting to help her just like she helped him.

“Yes, I am,” y/n silently laughed at the man and helped him get her undressed. “So pretty, y/n,” Logan said as soon as y/n’s bra came off. The man grabbed her breasts softly, moving them around as she took her shorts and panties off.

“Logan, not tonight. I’ve gotta work,” y/n spoke as his hands traveled the girl's body and his lips attached to a nipple. “Logan,” y/n rolled her eyes but soon gasped at the instant pleasurable feeling.

“Please, just a little,” the man looked up at her, sucking on her toy with need. “Logan, I’m so tired, and you’re too drunk,” Y/n spoke to him like he didn’t understand, but he did. His reaction was just a bit slow.

“Please, y/n — Please,” the man begged with a low growl, fingers digging into her waist. Y/n stood there for a while, looking down at the man who continued sucking, and leaving love marks.

“Fine, but only for a little,” y/n said, thinking of what he could do for her to make her stay up longer than she wished. “Get on your knees, baby,” y/n said as she stepped back.

Logan looked at the woman, confused and a bit sad his mouth wasn’t on her skin anymore. “C‘mon, we ain’t got all night,” y/n said. Logan did as told and got on his knees without thinking.

“S-Sorry,” he said, cussing himself out that he didn’t listen the first time. His girl asked him something, and he just looked at her like a deer in headlights. So fuckin’ stupid.

“Want you to make me cum,” y/n said after she spread her legs right in front of his face. The man looked up at the young lady, eyes traveling from her eyes all the way down to her cunt.

The man slightly whined as he leaned in, not taking another second to dive into her cunt. He instantly began slurping, taking in the wetness she had been hiding tonight.

“Ah- That’s it,” Y/n said, tangling her hands in his hair and then pulling him closer, now rubbing his mouth in the right places. “Mhm hm?” Logan asked muffled, wanting to make sure he was doing good for her.

“Oh, yes, baby — Always eat me so well,” y/n looked down at the older man, locking eyes with him as he kept sucking in the right spot.

You would think y/n would be the one rolling her eyes, but the one doing the rolling was Logan. After making eye contact with the pretty lady, he couldn’t help himself.

His mind was foggy, and he felt like he was drunk. Almost like he was pussy drunk, but there’s no way, right? Fuck it — There definitely was a way. He’s always this drunk for her. He needs her.

“So hot under me — Might take a picture and keep it in my wallet,” y/n said, making the man groan into her heat. Y/n’s knees bucked, instantly making her feel her cunt pulse.

“S-So close, baby — So close,” y/n gave a heads up, only making the man groan more into her cunt. He was going to cum himself. He knew he’d feel embarrassed about it right after, but right now, he needed it.

“S-Shit,” y/n’s legs almost gave out, but luckily Logan wrapped his arms around her, keeping her up and pinned onto his face. “Fuck, Logan, fuck!” the girl tugged on his hair before right as she released on his face.

The man slightly pulled away, making sure her juice would leak right out of her and into his mouth as much as it could.

Y/n’s clit throbbed hard, feeling amazing like any other night as Logan’s vision blurred, cock twitched, and in seconds, he came.

The older man buried his face into the girl's heat, muffling his own moans as he shook from the hard orgasm he didn’t know he could experience.

Y/n cried out, trying to pull the man off, but he was too lost in his own high. “L-Logan!” Y/n cried out with a crack as an aftershock hit her. Her cunt throbbed harder than usual, making her eyes cross in a way that she’s never done before.

The loud moan she let out only made Logan feel the need to do more, so he did.

The man pulled away from the girl and threw her on the bed after he stood to his feet. “L-Logan, fuck,” Y/n said, trying to catch her breath, but it didn’t take long for the man to hover over her.

“Need to fill you,” the man said, now crawling in between her legs. “No, Logan — I-I can’t anymore,” the young lady shook her head as she leaned her head back, trying to rest.

“Well, I can,” the man said before plunging into her, giving her no warning. Y/n’s loud moan filled the room as he groaned in her neck, thrusting his hips at an ungodly paste. He needed to fill her.

“L-Lo!” Y/n cried, overstimulated, but the man couldn’t think straight. He felt so fucking good, and he knew she did too.

Logan’s breathing sounded deep. Deep and animalistic as his hands grabbed the young lady's thighs on the side, scratching upwards until he heard a pleasure cry escape her mouth.

“So fucking good, baby. Need this every fucking day. No breaks!” The man said, one hand now digging into her waist as the other gripped her neck. He finally had her where he wanted.

“So fuckin’ dumb to let yourself be like this. All drunk and overstimulated. It’s my turn to dominate, baby. Mine!” Logan gripped the girl's neck, watching her jaw slack and eyes roll back.

“Gonna buy that fucking land and take that damn job. You’re gonna sit your pretty ass at him or in my truck and watch me. No more working. No more being away from me. You’re fuckin’ mine,”

Y/n wanted to say yes to everything he mentioned, feeling like she had no choice, and she didn’t. He wanted this, so she had to give it to him. She had to and needed to.

“That’s it, baby — Cum,” Logan’s voice echoed through the girl's head as her walls clenched onto him. “Fuckin’ cum,” the man spat, looking down at her as his hips snapped forward. She swears he’s about to break her.

“C-Can’t anymore,” the young girl cried, but who cared? Not him. What he said, goes. This side of being drunk felt good. The horniness after being on his knees for her, was a boost before his cock begged to feel her walls. He needed the second climax to be in her.

“L-Logan — You don’t have a condom-“ y/n tried saying, but her orgasm stopped her. The young girl cried and whined loudly, her voice sounding crackly as she came all over his cock.

Y/n was the one who suggested a condom. She didn't want the man to regret anything. Logan told her for months that he regretted nothing and never will. Night, he'll prove that to her.

“Gonna fill you up, baby — Make you unemployed,” the man threatened, but it didn’t sound too much like a threat to y/n. She wanted it, rather she was drunk on his cock or completely sober through the day.

“Fuck, yes!” The man growled through his teeth, feeling himself get closer with every thrust. “Tell me to cum in you, baby — Tell me!” The mutant man demanded the warn-out human.

“C-Cum,” y/n tried saying as her head moved side to side slowly, trying to gain her vision back, but everything was spinning. “More — More!” He demanded again. “C-Cum in m-me,” she finally got out.

Logan groaned loudly, cock pushing deep inside of the woman as his grip on her waist and neck tightened. She swore she could feel him actually filling her up until she couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck!” He shouted, slowly pulling out and looking down. His cock was coated with so much of him and her, and she leaked so much of her and him. This was perfect. She was perfect, and now she was staying with him forever.

[axelsagewrites]

Jace Velaryon*Frat Baby

Pairing: Jace x pregnant!f!reader

Word count: 1688

Warnings: rivalry, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Masterlist Here

Part One Here

Jace had went from being your sworn childhood enemy to fuck buddy to now the most awkward conversation of your life. You had been avoiding completely for the past month as you debated what to do so when Jace got the ‘we need to talk’ text he made sure he was free the next day for lunch. You were sat in a café across from campus, anxiously sipping on the caffeine-free tea Sansa had insisted you switch to instead of your regular coffee.

You wondered if the hole in your stomach was morning sickness or nerves but you just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best as you waited. Jace walked in, dressed like a burst bag of clothes, and anxiously scanned the room before rushing to your table. “You’re late,”

“Class ran over. have you ordered?” he said making you roll your eyes at his lack of apology as he ordered from the very perky waitress you were for some unknown reason suddenly jealous of. after he ordered, even ordering you your favourite sandwich which you were shocked he knew, he turned his attention back to you, “So what’s ‘Defcon one’?” he asked, quoting your text.

You took a deep breath as you debated how to say it before suddenly the words tumbled out, “I’m late,”

“I thought you didn’t have class today?” Jace asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy making you face palm. A few beats of silence passed before Jace said a quiet oh, followed by a louder oh, followed by a “oh fuck,” followed by one more quiet oh.

“You good?”

“I mean sure. Are you?” he asked, sitting up suddenly and leaning over the table and dropping his voice, “Does it like hurt?”

You stared at this frat boy for a solid three seconds before rolling your eyes, “I’m pregnant not dying!”

“I thought it hurt, okay?”

“It hurts later on,”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Highschool biology!”

“I ditched that week!”

“Yeah, to fuck Sara Snow!” the waitress who brought your food offer gave an awkward smile making you both sigh and drop your voice. “Look I get this isn’t what we planned for but,” you paused for a second before finally saying the words out loud, “I wanna keep it, him, her, them I don’t know. but either way I totally do not expect you do be involved and I wont even tell your mom but I- “

“Eh!” Jace cut you off, his eyes widening as his shoulders tensed, “No! you don’t get to just toss me aside during this,”

“I’m not tossing you aside- “

“Yes, you are! It’s my kid!”

“It’s a clump of cells,”

“My god damn cells. Half of them belong to me,”

“What you want me to stick em on a petri dish?” you spat out, “Look I’m just trying to give you an out,”

“Who said I wanted an out?”

“You wanna raise this baby?”

“Yes, I wanna raise *my* baby,”

“It’s my baby,”

“Our baby!” Jace said before sighing, “Look I’m not going anywhere and don’t for a second think I’m gonna leave my kid behind thinking I’m a dead beat. No this is what’s gonna happen- “

“You are in no position to tell me what to do- “

“Shut up!” Jace snapped, “Honest to god shut up and listen to me okay cause I am freaked the fuck out right now but I am not gonna abandon you,” he said and you weren’t sure if it was the foetus getting to your brain but it was the sweetest way he’d ever told you to shut up which would normally be met with a rude slap, “We are gonna do this together. I’m gonna get a part time job at my family’s firm. We’re gonna save like hell and then by the time our last year rolls around the baby will be like what? 3 months?”

“Two,” you said as you let Jace recover from his spiral.

“Right two. We’re gonna get a flat off campus and we’ll just have to pick our classes at the same time to make sure we can do it, okay?” he said but the way his eyes were strained made you wonder if he was genuinely asking for reassurance.

“We got this,” you said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure it out,”

Jace let out a heavy sigh of relief as he sunk into his chair and picked up his sandwich, “Okay good. Now eat up. And we’re getting dessert too. You’re eating for two,”

-

Shockingly Jace had been sweet this whole time. each day he dropped off snacks or random baby things he’d found at your dorm. This ranged from dummies to blankets to a fucking crib catalogue. When summer break came you were pregnant, terrified, and explaining to both your parents and Jace’s about the whole situation.

They were unpredictably happy. That was till you told them you weren’t a couple and your mums both deflated a little but eventually they got back with the programme. You expected Jace to lap up his final child free summer out partying but instead he took day trips with you to the beach, went out baby shopping with you, and would just sit in with you watching movies and eating ice cream. You wondered if he was trying to make you gain 100 sizes by the end of this pregnancy with the amount of junk food, he got you. he’d even drive over at 2am with whatever weird pregnancy craving you had.

The giving birth part was the terrifying bit. But Jace held your hand through every push. “Just one more,” the midwife told you as you began to break Jace’s hand with your grip but finally you heard the cries and let your head fall back into the pillow as you panted, “It’s a girl!”

“We have a daughter,” Jace grinned, a wide dopey smile on his face. His head turned to face you and soon you broke out in your own smile as they cleaned your baby up. You saw his head begin to dip but this kiss was far different from any other.

It was sweet and tender and life altering even if it lasted a second before the woman brought your daughter over and placed her on your chest, “Hi baby,” you cooed at her.

Jace leant over to get a better view, “She’s so pretty,” he whispered, “just like you,” he added as he kissed the top of your head, not even poking fun at the sweaty state of it.

-

Jace moved into the guest room at your house for the first week of your daughter's life but soon he ended up in your room. He said it was for convenience but that didn’t explain why he held you in his arms. As you began to unpack your things in your new flat as your baby slept you turned to Jace, “What are we?” you asked as he unpacked the plates.

He rolled his eyes at you as he put them in the cupboard, “My girlfriend you idiot,”

“You never asked,” you shot back, hand on hip.

He turned to you with his cockiest face possible, “Sorry I thought between the sex, cuddling, and baby we just had you would’ve caught on,”

“Uhuh,” you rolled your eyes as he turned away from you to continue unpacking but you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your cheek against his back, “Ask me,”

You could hear him chuckle before he turned around, taking your face in his hands, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You grinned before putting on your best thinking face, “I suppose I could be,”

“You suppose,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he lent in to kiss you only to be rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. “I’m gonna kill him,” Jace groaned as he ran to the door to stop the noise, so the baby didn’t wake.

“What up bro?” Cregan whisper shouted as he hurled into your flat, “Where’s the baby?”

“She’s in the nursery sleeping,” Jace said, slapping him in the stomach as he mentioned the sleep.

Cregan rolled his eyes as he passed Jace and walked up to you with an overflowing gift bag, “Consider this a baby-welcome home-nice to meet you properly gift,” he said as he handed you the bag.

You laughed as you began to empty the contents onto the bunker to find university baby sized hoodies, t shirts, hats, and even a scarf. Of course, digging further in you found a soccer jersey, baby sized of course, rattles, and then your hand settled on a box. “Condoms?” you asked, holding the box in the air.

“Hey!” Cregan defended, hands in the air, “She’s cute and all but I’m not ready to be a double uncle. They’ll overtake me when I babysit,”

You and Jace turned to each other before looking back at him, eyes narrowing with concern, “Who said you were babysitting?” Jace asked.

Cregan just rolled his eyes as he began to wander and look for the nursery, “Bitch please she needs me. I’m the fun uncle,”

“You’re not her uncle?” you said as he reached the pink painted nursery door.

Cregan span round, hand on heart and hurt in his eyes, “Not cool man. She’s not just your guy’s baby. She’s basically the frat baby,”

You debated arguing more but watching Cregan, a built like a truck manly man, fawn over a baby no bigger than a doll was too cute to interfere with. You weren’t sure how you survived university with a baby and a Jace btu somehow with a lot of help from Cregan and Sansa who had become expert babysitters by now you managed. Some day you would have to explain to your daughter her parents were sworn enemies but not today. No today your daughter was three years old and teaching Jace to do Taylor Swift choreography with her so they could surprise you.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

@aleemendoza2425-blog  @happinessinthebeing @bellstwd

[another-random-paradise]

hello! if you're up to it i've had this one idea in my head for a long time that i just need to see written out

basically maybe short drabbles/hcs about leona, jamil, and vil with a reader who, on days where they're tired, is super affectionate physically as in they might see him pass by in the hall and take his hand for a moment/just search for him to get a hug from him, or comes up to him randomly and puts their head on his shoulder — maybe even in a few classes if they're REALLY exhausted, tldr reader just needs some affection when they're tired and loves receiving physical affection </3

~ ☆

Thank you for this lovely request!! I’m the same haha, nothing like a good hug when your tired <3 also I am so so sorry you had to wait this long, I’ve had a lot going on lately,, I really hope I did the request justice <3

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

Reader whose affectionate when tired

Characters: Leona, Jamil, Vil

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that I can think of

Leona

-Leona is in heaven

-or at least he thought he was at first

-After all, you being affectionate when tired, means more naps with you!

-except that, thanks to these naps, you aren't tired anymore, and don't seek his  affection as often anymore. And the lazy lion has already gotten so used to it, that he finds it annoying to sleep without it now.

-He'd much prefer you'd just constantly had the urge to nap, like him

-You'll find him grumbling to himself, whenever you don't feel as affectionate, just as you'll find him with a smug grin whenever you cuddle into him while he lazes around the botanical gardens 

-Jack once overheard Leona grumbling, with his tail swishing around angrily, and Jack was confused to say the least, seeing as how the lion was just grinning at you a few seconds ago

-turns out you just weren't all that tired that day, and, in Leonas opinion, didn't give him enough affection before running of - not that he'd ever admit that 

-overall he really loves your affectionate side and wouldn't mind seeing it more often

Jamil

-conflicted, to say the least

-he genuinely loves you and your affection, he really does, but he's got a lot of work and a kalim who he needs to keep alive-

-He has fallen into a sort of routine when you feel sleepy, which is to get you comfortably to sleep as soon as possible 

-If your at Scarabia, he'll bring you to a more secluded couch (you cannot tell me that those couches aren't as comfortable as can be), lay you down, maybe with some hot tea, and stay with you till you very quickly fall asleep

-if you're at school, he always has some sort of coffee at hand to wake you up, or something sugary if you don't drink coffee! he'll make sure it's still somewhat healthy though

-should you fall asleep on him in class, he'll take notes and asks questions for you. Occasionally just looks at you for a few moments, his grades need to be worse than Kalims anyway, so he can't completely partake in the class anyway

-If you get caught by a professor though, he'll just chuckle a bit. 

-You can get mad at him for not waking you up, but he doesn't regret anything, he'll treasure in any time spend with you, where he doesn't have to worry about Kalim.

-on the very VERY rare chance that he has a day off, he basks in your affection! He'll most likely need to catch up on all the sleep he lost to Kalims shenanigans, so you two will most likely be cuddling in his bed, or on one of the couches in an otherwise empty lounge

-Or, maybe, to make sure Kalim doesn't barge in and ruin the moment, the two of you are at ramshackle, after sending Grim to heartslabyul! 

-on rare occasions Grim does join you two, curling up next to you, while muttering something about Jamil stealing his henchmen. You three almost look like a family <3 

Vil

-At first, Vil was confused as to why you'd sometimes be so much more affectionate than normally, but very quickly figured out the pattern; The more tired you are, the more affection he gets.

-He'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy the affection, it feels nice to be wanted by someone he genuinely cares for, who genuinely cares for him.

-BUT he doesn't like you not getting enough sleep, what kind of lover would he be if he just lets you miss your needed beauty sleep?!

-Also, he is a busy person with a reputation to uphold; he can't exactly film a movie or brew a potion with your arms wrapped around him, no matter how cute you may look..

-He does Indulge you, letting you cling to him when he isn't as busy, or in between classes, but never without a light scold about the importance of proper sleep!

-If you're clingy for a longer period of time, for example a whole week, he'll try to find out why, and then help you; If you stressed because of a test, he'll help you study, if something is worrying you, he'll pull out all the tricks to help you relax, ect.

-If you're just lonely, well.. he supposes you can sleep over ever so often, as long as he still gets his much needed beauty rest

-The first time this happens, he realises how much better he sleeps with you next to him, how much better the both of you sleep! 

-It very quickly becomes routine; that way you'll get your affection when you're tired in the evenings, but the two can still follow your normal routine during the day!

-...though he does miss, the way you'd hug him from behind in the hallway, or the way you'd lay your head on his shoulder when Professor Trein was being particularly boring.. maybe letting you stay up longer when neither of you have anything important the next day would'nt be all that bad.. 

Once again, just so very sorry it took this long, I promise I didn’t make you wait on purpose, I’m always trying to reply and write as fast as possible <3

Feedback is welcome, just be nice please! Hope you have a wonderful night/day

[sleeepy-sim]

✮ His Apartment ✮

smut, fingering, oral (r), female reader

König couldn't help but stop and stare. Last night koing had finally convinced you to stay the night over at his apartment, and that even when you just wake up you're still as beautiful, if not even more in his opinion. 

So when you walk into his kitchen searching for coffee or tea, whichever you can get your hands on. Wearing his shirt and from what he can tell no underwear nor a bra, he couldn't help but stop and stare at you. Taking a sip of his coffee he stands up to his full height of 6'10. He walks over to your figure, softly taking your much smaller hand in his to keep you from rubbing your eye even harder. 

He leans down, resting his head in your neck, taking in your natural scent. "Engel," His hot breath hitting your bare neck and your shoulder from the size of the shirt it was sliding off of your shoulder. His rough hands grip the shirt, slowly pulling it up, moving his head away from your neck. He rubs his nose against yours, hands still slowly lifting the shirt you were wearing up. He kisses your lips, you try and move your lips away from him to get a word in. His teeth biting down on your bottom lip make you wince, his tongue runs over where he bit you, almost as apologizing. 

"You're lucky I brushed my teeth before coming in here, mister." You playfully stick your tongue out, booping his nose with it. His hands had not left the shirt in fact he had managed to lift it up just under your boobs. His eyes haven't left yours, he drops the shirt. Shoving his hands underneath the shirt, grabbing both of your boobs, digging his nails into them before leaning down and kissing you. 

"I guess I am." He pulls away from you, walking over to his now untouched coffee. Taking a sip with his back turned to you. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, fingers meeting and interlocking. Resting your head on his back, letting out a sigh. Turning around he picks you up, setting you on the counter, just next to his coffee. 

Shoving his head into your neck, peppering kisses from your throat to your lips. His hands grab your thighs, putting them on his waist. Pulling you towards him, almost off of the counter his tongue swipes yours before his hand comes up and grabs your hair. Pulling you back by your hair, your head tilts just perfect for him to shove his tongue down your throat. 

Moaning into his mouth, your hands running through his short hair, pulling him even closer. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips buck up, sliding his shirt up and showing his abs. He slides you off the counter, walking back into his room. Setting you on the bed, he pulls his shirt up as you slide farther up the bed, backing resting on the headboard watching him strip. 

After taking his shirt off he yanks his gray sweatpants down, his dick hangs low and outwards from how heavy. Its veins pulsate as you look at it, looking back up at him. His smirk and eyes already seem to know what you're thinking about. Crawling up the bed he grabs your ankles, yanking you towards him. His hands swiftly remove his shirt from your body, throwing it to the side. 

He pushes your legs apart, taking his fingers and spreading your pussy lips. Watching as they glisten from how wet you are. His pointer finger rubs at your nub making your hips buck, needing more. He doesn't give you more, instead his finger trails down to your hole, pushing just the tip of his finger in before trailing it back to your now aching nub. 

"Please, König" Your eyes look down at him pleading. He slowly slide his finger into your pussy, leaning closer to your pussy his tongue taps on your clit, before lapping on it. Thrusting his finger in and out of you he has his middle finger join, making you moan even louder. His thick fingers making your pussy so wet. The loud sounds of your pussy only seems to make his actions even faster.

Removing his fingers, his hands grabs your hips bringing your pussy to his mouth. His tongue shoves it way into your pussy, rubbing on every inch, every crease he can find. He can't help but to groan into your pussy, it just taste so sweet, so good, so you.

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his art.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the paint smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[iheartmapi]

Vicious

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: After Spain’s match against Germany, Alexia injuries her knee. Having to take a health break from playing irritates her, Y/n tries to cheer her girlfriend up to no avail, they fight and Alexia leaves…she’s gone for a long time so you go looking for her.

Angst with happy ending.

TW: crude language, degrading language about oneself, ACL injury

Word count: 1,691

The sun was setting slowly behind the city landscape, the warm tones slowly turning into various shades of violet and dark blue almost reminded you of the way Alexia’s mood drastically changed after her ACL injury.

You stood in the kitchen of your shared house, occasionally looking behind you to see your moody girlfriend sitting on the couch in the living room, her injured leg perched up on a small stool, you were making some tea, the electric kettle buzzing, two cups were on the counter, for Alexia’s tea you had went with a blend of chamomile and lavender, it was advertised as “calming” and that’s one thing she definitely wanted right now.

As the kettle got done with heating the water up you swiftly poured it into the cups. You carefully put them on the coffee table and finally sat down next to your girlfriend. The silence went on for maybe like two minutes..during the few past days it felt as if you were walking on eggshells around her, you turned your head to look at her and smiled even though she wasn’t even glancing in your direction, only looking into emptiness with her brows furrowed and arms crossed almost like a small child that didn’t get its candy. “Hey, don’t worry so much I’m sure you’ll heal quickly, why don’t you drink some tea-“ You were about to finish your sentence but Alexia opted to cut it short “I don’t want tea right now” Well that was rude…but you shouldn’t be so hard on her, after all you knew how difficult dealing with this injury was for her, so you kept on trying, trying to cheer her up. “Oh…well how about we see what they’re playing on the TV? We can always watch some show or movie or anything really-“ Alexia sat up straighter, irritation clear in her eyes “Can you quit it with the tea and TV? Or better, just quit trying to cheer me up, it’s annoying” she barked at you, “Alright, Jesus…sorry for wanting to be nice” you answered calmly but it was evident that you were offended and perhaps getting annoyed with how unapproachable she was being lately.

“”Nice”? For fucks sake Y/n! Do you see my leg? I’m useless, and I’m supposed to be a ball of sunshine just because you want it?!” She waved her hands around like a maniac “But why would I expect you to get it” she scoffed, you turned to look at her again your eyes narrowing “Seriously? Am I some subtype then or something?“ Alexia looked away, running away from your gaze that was demanding an explanation “I didn’t say that” she answered more quietly now “You kind of did though” you argued, “Oh my god can’t I just live in peace for one goddamn minute?! Here you go again, making a problem out of nothing, it’s like this every time something isn’t in tip top shape…it’s tiring Y/n, I swear you’re so difficult for no reason” that kind of hurt, you were appalled by her outburst “It’s not my fault, don’t you think it’s hard for me as well? Especially when-“ You bit your tongue before you could finish that sentence, maybe it was true and you were really making a problem out of nothing..but you had your emotions too, and Alexia shouldn’t be expecting you to be fine every time she gets enraged like this.

“Especially when what?” She repeated your words, her tone sharp, you took a breath not wanting to answer that, “Especially when what Y/n!” She said once again, this time nearly yelling, “Especially when you’re such a vicious bitch everytime you’re mad!” Quietness fell upon the both of you, before Alexia suddenly got up from the couch, slowly though as to not make her leg worse..but even for her it was clear how hasty she was trying to be with her moves.

“Where are you going?” Your eyes were trying to run after her, she waddled towards the front door “Doesn’t matter” she fumed, you didn’t follow her at first, but as you heard the sound of jingling keys you stood up as well and rushed to the front door, surely Alexia was leaving.

“Alexia?” Confusion crossed your face, and then worry and regret for your earlier words “Alexia come on! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” She didn’t answer your pleas, and just left…you sighed as the door closed.

She was a grown woman, you couldn’t just stop her from leaving the house if she wanted to..you sulked onto the carpet beneath you, hands covering your face, why the hell did you say that? You were definitely too rough on her..but at the same time what were you supposed to do? There was nothing you could do now, you were just going to wait for her to come back home, after all she couldn’t be out for too long, especially with a leg like that.

So here you were now, sipping on your tea as you sat and welled in your own sadness, eyes glancing at the empty cup on the coffee table that was supposed to be Alexia’s..It’s been probably three hours now, and there were no signs of life from Alexia, you picked up your phone; the lack of messages or missed calls from your girlfriend was no surprise to you, you picked your best friends number, Mapi, you had to talk to someone when there was no one in this empty house filled with bitter tension.

“¡Hola, tía!” Mapi’s voice echoed from the other side, “Hey” you answered, a small smile on your face, which was heard in your tone but the overwhelming sadness took it over, Mapi could easily recognise that, “Is everything alright? You sound very down in the dumps” you weren’t sure how to answer, eventually you just sighed and told Mapi about what happened earlier with Alexia.

“And then…she just left the house, it’s been three hours I’m starting to worry, I mean- what if she like fell down and hurt herself even more or something?” You said “You know how she can be, I’m sure she’s fine, she can’t stay mad at you forever Y’know?…especially not you” Mapi said with her cheery voice “I have to go and look for her” you answered seriously “Have you seen her? Do you know where she can be?” You then added, looking for any kind of answer for someone in reasonable humour “Nah…sorry, just be careful ok?” The girl attested “Yeah..I promise I’ll be” the two of you said your goodbye’s and you hanged up..you grouched, trying to think of ANY place Alexia could be right now.

Then one thought came rushing to you like an arrow, what about a specific football pitch she always went to after lost matches? You figured; if she was gone for so long, and you didn’t know where she was then it wouldn’t hurt to drive there and see for yourself.

You literally bolted to your car, and just drove…fifteen minutes passed and you arrived at the spot, the football pitch was set in the outskirts of the town, here it was quiet for a change, the sky was now dark since so much time has passed…as you looked around the place you could understand why this place brought a sense of comfort to Alexia.

Through the tall fence you noticed a figure sulking on one of the benches, as you entered the pitch, it became apparent to you that it was Alexia..thank god you thought first, at least you knew she was safe.

You sauntered over to the bench, the melancholy, regret and anger all mixed together into one confusing combination hanging in the air.

The two of you didn’t say anything for now, instead you just sat yourself next to her on the bench, once again Alexia’s gaze was far and blurry she was just simply staring nowhere. “Alexia…” you kept it quiet not wanting to cause any more arguments today. Finally, your girlfriend looked at you with something else than annoyance and silent resentment.

“Please, let’s go back home” you asked half-whispering, her chest rose as she took a deep breath, it’s like she wanted to but didn’t at the same time, maybe going straight to the point wasn’t the first option, there we’re definitely some things the two of you needed to say to each other. “I’m sorry…I know it’s hard, I know how useless you must feel right now..I really just wanted to make you happy, I hate seeing you like that..that- that I’m just willing to try anything to make it better” you started, Alexia turned to you at once her eyes almost glassy “I’m..I’m sorry too Y/n I just don’t know what came over me..I guess the irritation took over me, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” she answered “I don’t know why I did that, but I just…I don’t know, it’s my whole life, and now with this stupid knee I’m just stuck home, and I just feel like I’ve got no other purpose” she almost teared up, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace “Alexia…you know that’s not true” you whispered “Injuries happen, you’ll get back to playing in no time I’m sure” you added, a quiet sob was heard, it was unlike her to be so vulnerable…but you appreciated that she was able to show that side of herself with you.

Pulling away, you placed a kiss on her temple, “You’re right, let’s go back home” she said wiping the traces left behind by some tears with her sleeve.

You got up and offered her your arm, she took it and the two of you slowly made your way towards the exit of the pitch.

“I’m sorry I called you a vicious bitch”

“No, don’t apologize, you were right then…I guess I was a bit of a bitch” she smiled

“I’m sorry for calling you annoying” she then added more seriously

“You were being honest then too” you grinned as well and the two of you chuckled.

“I guess we’re a good match together”

(Thanks to @kshvue099)