#and the way he t poses every time he speaks

[valentimmy]

his favorite hobby is tormenting cloud 🔥

[freshloveee]

juno - chris sturniolo

notes - chris getting arrested during juno at your show 😋 + this doesn't take place in my singer!reader au but if u want one that does lmk! credits to @chris-hallelujah and @delilahsturniolo for letting me make this ! go give them a follow and check out their work because their AMAZING

the lights dim in the stadium as you finish playing one of your songs, dumb and poetic. you softly smile as you look out into the crowd. "why hello L.A!" you say into the mic with a slight giggle. chris, nick, and madison all cheer along with the plethora of people in the crowd. chris was still confused on how he got dragged to your show but somehow, he was here.

it was now time for the intro to your song, juno. you searched the crowd for the "hottest" person in the crowd. you gasp softly for dramatics as you point into the vip section. "ladies! get over here!" you called for your backup dancers as nick and madison try to figure out if your pointing at their section.

"you see that guy over there?" you question as you point directly at chris. "which one?" they ask in unison. "that one" you say dreamily as you gesture towards chris. chris looks up from his phone and his jaw drops slightly as he sees his face on the big screens decorating the sold out arena. nick and madison instantly start freaking out but chris finds himself mesmirized by you.

"what's your name, baby?" you ask with a flirtatious tone. "c-chris!" he shouts. "chris baby..i fear your under arrest for being way too hot!" you hold back a slight giggle as the red and blue lights flash around with a siren sound filling the air. "here cutie" you say as you hand the fuzzy pink handcuffs into his hands gently. "t-thanks" he mumbled as he fiddles with the handcuffs. "your welcome." you smile softly at him as you stand back up.

"oh no! chris over here is just way too hot m-my clothes are falling off for him!" you yelp jokingly as your dress reveals your sparkly, baby pink outfit. nick jokingly presses chris's jaw back up since he was staring at you in awe. madison giggles but then looks back up at the stage as you begin to perform.

it was now time for the part that most people were anticipating. the juno pose. you imitated a sex position every show and changed it everytime. "you make me wanna make you fall in love" you sing as you gesture to chris and he is still in shock. "oh late at night im thinkin' bout' you ohhhh, wanna try out some freaky postions?" you sing as you scurry over to the end of the stage. "hey chris, have you ever tried this one?" you say seductively as you smile directly at him. he tries to form one but it comes out as a lopsided grin.

after the show nick, madison, and chris were all chatting about well...everything. "im still in shock not gonna lie" chris admits with a breathy laugh. "me too" madison agrees with a slight nod. "out of all people though you?-" nick was cut off as a security guard comes out. they all tense up but before they can question him he beats him to it. "hey...uh-chris right?" the strong man asks. chris nods, confusion written all over his face. "y/n wants to see you come follow me" he waves him over, all of their jaws drop but chris recollects right away before following him into your dressing room.

they soon enter and you look up from your vanity. "oh, hi chris" you smile sweetly at him. "sup" he says nervously as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "here come get comfy" you say as you adjust the pillows on the fuzzy white couch for him. "t-thanks" he smiles. "how are you, you looked pretty miserable out there." you giggle. "nah," he laughs softly,

"i just got dragged along by my brother and his friend but im glad i came." he smiles softly. "i recognized you from tiktok to be honest." you make your way over to sit next to him. you giggle slightly as he nearly spits out his water. "your a triplet right?" he is way too stunned to even speak so he just nods. you two end up chatting and around 20 minutes later nick and madison come in as well, you two hang out and sadly part ways but hey, chris got a follow back so he was satisfied. he told matt everything the second he got home.

-the next day-

nick gasps as he runs into chris's room where him and matt are playing fortnite. "both of you check your fucking instagrams!" he shouts excitedly. "what bro" chris asks annoyed as he removes his headset so it rests softly against his neck as he opens his phone.

y/n./n

♫ juno · y/n l/n

y/n.l/n - spoiler alert: @christophersturniolo ended up trying this one

liked by larray and 2M others

view all 999,668K comments

christophersturniolo ur fucking insane

↳ y/n.l/n you like it though

matthewsturniolo BRO ????

nicolassturniolo I-

quenblackwell #thatshouldbeme

↳ y/n.l/n #hmu 🫦

tyummyz oh.my.god.

xoxo4chrisss never speak to me again this is INSANE

thenickgirl DOES CHRIS EVEN REALIZE HOW BIG Y/N IS LIKE HES STANDING NEXT TO ONE OF THE BIGGEST POP GIRLIES RN

↳ nicolassturniolo IVE BEEN TRYING TO TELL HIM THIS

a/n - hope u enjoyed !! :))))

tags/users featured - @tyummyz @xoxo4chrisss @thenickgirl

[43hughess]

Juno - Quinn Hughes

the lights dim in the stadium as you finish playing one of your songs, dumb and poetic. you softly smile as you look out into the crowd. "why hello Vancouver!" you say into the mic with a slight giggle. Quinn, Luke, and Jack all cheer along with the plethora of people in the crowd. Quinn was still confused on how he got dragged to your show but somehow, he was here.

it was now time for the intro to your song, juno. you searched the crowd for the "hottest" person in the crowd. you gasp softly for dramatics as you point into the vip section. "ladies! get over here!" you called for your backup dancers as Luke and Jack try to figure out if your pointing at their section.

"you see that guy over there?" you question as you point directly at Quinn. "which one?" they ask in unison. "that one" you say dreamily as you gesture towards Quinn. Quinn looks up from his phone and his jaw drops slightly as he sees his face on the big screens decorating the sold out arena. Luke and Jack instantly start freaking out but quinn finds himself mesmirized by you.

"what's your name, baby?" you ask with a flirtatious tone. “Q-Quinn!" he shouts. "Quinn baby..i fear your under arrest for being way too hot!" you hold back a slight giggle as the red and blue lights flash around with a siren sound filling the air. "here cutie" you say as you hand the fuzzy pink handcuffs into his hands gently. "t-thanks" he mumbled as he fiddles with the handcuffs. "your welcome." you smile softly at him as you stand back up.

"oh no! Quinn over here is just way too hot m-my clothes are falling off for him!" you yelp jokingly as your dress reveals your sparkly, baby pink outfit. Jack jokingly presses quinns jaw back up since he was staring at you in awe. Luke pisses himself laughing but then looks back up at the stage as you begin to perform.

it was now time for the part that most people were anticipating. the juno pose. you imitated a sex position every show and changed it everytime. "you make me wanna make you fall in love" you sing as you gesture to quinn and he is still in shock. "oh late at night im thinkin' bout' you ohhhh, wanna try out some freaky postions?" you sing as you scurry over to the end of the stage. "hey Quinn, have you ever tried this one?" you say seductively as you smile directly at him. he tries to form one but it comes out as a lopsided grin.

after the show Luke, Jack, and Quinn were all chatting about well...everything. "im still in shock not gonna lie" Quinn admits with a breathy laugh. "me too" Luke agrees with a slight nod. "out of all people though you?-" Jack was cut off as a security guard comes out. they all tense up but before they can question him he beats him to it. "hey...uh-Quinn right?" the strong man asks. Quinn nods, confusion written all over his face. "y/n wants to see you come follow me" he waves him over, all of their jaws drop but quinn recollects right away before following him into your dressing room

they soon enter and you look up from your vanity. "oh, hi Quinn" you smile sweetly at him. "sup" he says nervously as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "here come get comfy" you say as you adjust the pillows on the fuzzy white couch for him. "t-thanks" he smiles. "how are you, you looked pretty miserable out there." you giggle. "nah," he laughs softly,

"i just got dragged along by my brothers we got free tickets but im glad i came." he smiles softly. "i recognized you my dads a big Canucks fan." you make your way over to sit next to him. you giggle slightly as he nearly spits out his water. "I’ve actually been to a few games?" he is way too stunned to even speak so he just nods. you two end up chatting and around 20 minutes later luke and jack come in as well, you two hang out and sadly part ways but hey, quinn got a follow back so he was satisfied. he told jack everything the second he got home.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent. 

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.��� You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing. 

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship. 

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for. 

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly. 

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between. 

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more. 

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around. 

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos. 

But your wish was ignored.

 “Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña​?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

[lanadelnegan]

Wildest Dreams

Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Song inspo: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Summary: Y/n's celebrity crush, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, makes her dreams come true when she meets him at a bar after the walking dead comic con.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, *Jeffrey is single*, plot, smut, sexual tension, cursing, sex, oral, daddy-kink

This is my first attempt at fanfiction ever, ahhh! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

This can't be happening right now. I can't believe he's actually right there. I'm about to touch him.

"Well hello there." Jeffrey's smile widens as I approach his open arms. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"Y/n...Hi" I smile and let him wrap his arms around me.

"That is a beautiful name, y/n. You ready?"

"Yeah, but can we pose a different way though.. maybe looking at each other?" I ask, hoping he can't hear the nervousness in my voice.

"Absolutely, doll." He turns his body facing mine and gently places his fingers around my jawline, looking directly into my eyes and lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "Relax." His tone is soft but demanding.

The photographer counts to 3 but it feels like 10 because Jeffrey's hazel brown eyes are burning flames into mine. I swear this man is staring into my soul as if he can read every thought I've ever had about him. Including that one, because the left side of his mouth suddenly raises and he lets out a "negan-like" chuckle that only the two of us can hear.

I'm the first one to break away from our embrace and I can feel my cheeks redden as I take another glance at him. I make a mental note to never forget what he looks like in person and let my stare linger a little too long on his chest hair peeking out from his white t-shirt. His smirk grows wider and he leans down, putting his mouth next to my ear. "You... are adorable."

When he leans away, the smell of tobacco, leather, and sweet mint fills my lungs.

Even now as I sit in my car, his scent is burned into my nose and the front of my shirt.. I'll never wash it again. My eyes close and my head falls back against my driver's seat.

The rest of my evening is spent binge watching The Walking Dead -season 7 of course - and ordering too much room service. I should go out. I drove 3 hours to Austin, TX.. by myself, which is a big deal for me. I should at least explore the city while I'm here.

I shower and throw on some jean shorts and a cute top, pretending I'm not bothered by the fact that I just washed any trace of my parasocial boyfriend off of me. At least I have this. I hold the picture we took and study it for the 48th time today.

After google searching "nightlife in Austin", Sixth Street seems to be where it's at, so I head that way and although it's only 7 minutes away from my hotel, it takes me 30 to find parking. I have no clue where exactly I'm going or what I'm doing, but hell - I met Jeffrey Dean Morgan earlier. If I could do that, I could do anything. I apply some lip gloss and tell my anxiety to go fuck itself before climbing out of the car.

Bright neon signs from every building light up the street and I smile to myself at the couples holding hands walking past me. I browse around at my options for drinks - not food - because I destroyed $70 worth of room service earlier - and make out the faint sound of Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift coming from one of the pubs up ahead as if it's calling my name. "Shakespeare's." the old sign reads, and I know that's the one. I make my way into the mildly crowded pub, find a seat at the end of the bar, and don't waste any time ordering a drink.

I bring up the picture of Jeffrey and me on my phone and study it.. for the 49th time today. I'm lost in my thoughts when a deep voice fills my ear. "Shit. That is one handsome dude." He takes a seat next to me and orders himself a drink while I stare at him wide-eyed and unable to speak. Oh.. my god.

Jeffrey orders his drink and turns his body towards me slightly with that signature grin on his stupidly handsome face. He breaks the silence since my lips seem to be paralyzed at the moment.

"Tell me what you're thinking, y/n." ... he remembered my name.

"I'm thinking that there is no way this is real life right now." I grin and look around, trying to mentally focus on suppressing the redness in my cheeks.

He laughs as the bartender places his drink down. "Want me to pinch you?"

"You can do whatever you want to me." I say under my breath as I sip my drink, surprised by my liquid courage. If he heard me, he ignores it and I internally cringe at myself.

"Cheers, darlin'." We tap our drinks and I throw my head back to finish mine completely. I sense his gaze on me and turn to face him completely. "So.. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" He fires back.

"Apparently having a drink with my celebrity crush." I laugh and cringe again. I need to stop.

"Crush? Me?" sarcasm drips from his smirk as he sips on his whiskey. "Would have never guessed.. not with the way you were blushing like hell during our picture."

My mouth drops open. "I was not!"

"No? Lemme see then." He nods towards my phone in my lap.

I pause hesitantly before handing him my phone and unlocking it for him. Bad idea. Instead of looking at our picture, he clicks on the camera button and turns it to selfie mode. He raises my phone in front of us and leans into me. I'm caught off guard but quickly lean into him, our faces touching and I smile as cool, calm, and collected as I can be in this moment.

He snaps a couple pictures of us and looks at them. "We are fucking cute as shit." He shows me and I laugh.

He pulls some glasses out of his jacket pocket and slides them on his face while holding my phone. I watch him in awe as he takes it upon himself to browse through my phone. My heart drops when he goes to the home screen and sees himself as my wallpaper with cute little hearts and cherries surrounding him. Fuck.

I wait for his reaction but it doesn't faze him. And if it does, he says nothing. He stares at the screen a little longer then finally glances at me with a smirk before turning his attention back to my phone. His thumb presses the tiktok icon and I watch curiously. He's not seriously about to suggest we make a tiktok together. Ick.

Worse. Instead, he clicks on my favorites and multiple squares of his face pop up - edits of him. I almost reach for my phone, but part of me likes that he sees it. What is wrong with me.

He looks at me and raises his brow. For the first time all night, I don't blush when he looks at me and it seems to amuse him because he chuckles and looks back at my phone. He clicks on one of the edits and watches himself on top of another woman kissing her passionately. I watch it with him unashamedly. Before it ends, he suddenly clicks my screen off and hands me my phone back.

"Why did you save that?" he asks with a serious tone.

"Uh, I jus - I liked it." I shrug.

"You like watching me make love to women?"

I laugh to myself. "Uhhh. Yeah, I guess so."

He pauses and stares at me, this time with a serious expression. "Do you wish it was you?"

My eyes widen and I open my mouth to answer but no words come out.

He stands and puts his jacket on. Oh great, I scared him. Good job y/n.

"Let's go." He throws a $100 on the bar and motions for me to stand up too.

I'm obviously not going to question this man. If he tells me to bark, I'll bark. I almost faint when I feel his big palm firmly placed right above my backside as we're leaving.

We exit the bar with our heads down as we quickly walk to his car. He opens the passenger side and I get in, waiting for him to appear on the other side. Leather, mint, and tobacco fill my lungs and I'm gone once again.

I'm so lost in my head that I don't even notice that he's already in the driver's seat. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Don't ask me that. I don't even know anymore." My answer amuses him and he drives a few blocks away to one of the "rich" hotels. The entire ride over is awkward silence with the exception of Jeffrey blowing puffs of cigarette smoke towards the crack in his window every few moments.

"Y/n." He puts the car in park and turns towards me while flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling it up. "At any point tonight if you want to leave or.. you.. want me to stop, I need you to tell me, okay?"

I look at him and his face is the most serious I've seen it all day.

"Okay." I whisper.

"Come here." Is all he says before I'm leaned towards him over the middle console and so close to his face that our noses are touching. I wait for him to make the move but he doesn't. He looks down at my lips and sighs. "Fuck. I'm not going to kiss you."

I back away a little, feeling embarrassed before he continues explaining. He brings me back closer to him and his hand caresses my cheek. "I need you to understand that tonight is a one time thing, y/n. You.. you can't catch anymore feelings for me than you already have, okay? I'm going to make you feel good, but I'm not going to break your heart in the process."

The smell of his minty cigarette breath tempts me and I have to mentally restrain myself from not crashing into this man's lips. But I just nod instead.

"Good girl." Is all he says before he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door.

The way up to his room is quick and discreet. It's 11pm so we only pass two people on the way up and they didn't seem to recognize him. Even his hotel room is already filled with his signature scent, minus the tobacco.

"Would you like to stay the night with me, y/n?"

"Um, obviously. Are you kidding? ..Yes, I'd love to." I laugh and look around his room.

The lights are off, but the room is bright enough with the city lights shining through the windows. I fall into the bed dramatically on the side closest to the window.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable, okay?" he grins before closing the bathroom door. I stare back at the closed door and imagine what he looks like getting undressed behind it.

I glance around the large room and notice his phone sitting on the nightstand next to "his side" of the bed. He went through mine.. so it's only fair if I -

I reach over and grab his phone. 042266. I type in his birthdate and the phone locks. I laugh to myself. Too easy, old man.

There's a recent text message from.. my number? I click it and the picture he took of us at the bar pops up. And another one - our picture we took at comic con. He sent them to himself.

I don't want to intrude on his personal business too much, so instead I open his camera and take some goofy selfies. The bathroom door opens while I'm mid tongue out. He stops and stares at me as I slowly set his phone down on the bed. I shrug at him and he shakes his head a little and laughs. He appears in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. I turn my gaze away before I get carried away and my eyes get permanently glued to his torso.

"It's okay, y/n. You can look at me. In fact, I want you to."

I look back at him and don't even bother hiding how hard I'm checking him out now. I observe every hair on his chest and my eyes travel south until I'm imagining what he looks like under the towel. A lucky water drop runs down his flat stomach and disappears and I'm hoping the drool I just felt run down my chin was just my imagination. He walks slowly over to my side of the bed and stands next to me.

"You ready to find out what my cock looks like, y/n?"

If I was drinking water right now, I would have just spit it out all over him. I nod and he drops the towel. His cock springs free and I stare at it in awe. He's about 7-8 inches of thick perfection and I've never seen something so hot in my life. He looks down at himself, a proud smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Tell me one of your fantasies, y/n. We're not doing anything tonight that you haven't already thought about."

"I - well, one of them is.. putting it in my mouth." I look up at him innocently.

"What are you waiting for, then?"

I get up and push him gently for him to sit on the bed, then get on my knees in between his legs. If I weren't still buzzing from the drinks earlier, there is no way I'd have the confidence to do this.

He leans back slightly with his hands on either side of him on the bed and looks down at me through lust filled hazel eyes.

"It's all yours baby." He smiles and tucks his bottom lip under his teeth.

I slowly take him into my mouth, savoring the taste of him - like man and fresh leather soap. I groan around him as I take him further and the growl that escapes his throat encourages me to take him as far in the back of my throat as I can.

"Fuuuck baby." His deep voice strains and I watch as his head fall back with pleasure. I continue steadily sucking him and stroking where my throat won't reach. His moans grow louder with each time he hits the back of my throat.

He suddenly thrusts his hips up slightly, causing me to gag and jolt back a little.

"Goddamn it, y/n. You are not making me cum yet." He hanks my hair back and his cock pops out of my mouth and stands strong against his stomach. It's big and wet and throbbing, and my legs clench together and the sight of him.

I stand up and take my shirt off, then my bra. Then slowly slide my shorts and panties down while facing away from him. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he wastes no time grabbing me and throwing me on the bed. He positions me until my head is on the bed and my ass in the air before I feel his cock press against my soaked pussy from behind. He rubs himself against my wet slit until I'm whimpering and begging him to put it in me.

"Beg for me, baby." He slaps my ass and the sensation causes me to jump a little.

"Please, Jeffrey. I need you. Please."

"Baby, now I know that's not what you call me in your fantasies, is it?" Another slap to my bare ass makes me yelp.

"Daddy.. please!"

His dark chuckle fills the room and every one of my senses is on fire. His scent, his voice, his dick all surround me until I'm crying and pleading for this man to ruin me. "Please daddy, I need you. Please."

"Sorry, princess. I'm taking my time with you." He flips me over suddenly until I'm laying flat on my back. His knees push mine apart, signaling me to spread open for him until he positions himself above me. He leans over me until our faces are inches apart.

My hands roam over his lean body and scratch his back lightly as his lips travel down my neck. His hard cock slides back and forth between my slit and it feels too good every time it brushes my sensitive clit.

"Goddamn, you are soaking my fucking cock and I haven't even put it inside you yet, baby." he groans and bites my nipple gently before taking it into his mouth and sucking so hard it hurts.

He finally leans up, sitting on his knees, and positions his cock right at my entrance.

"Was I or gentle or rough in your fantasies?" He rubs the head against my clit before sliding it back down. My pussy is weeping for him at this point.

"Rough.. please." I choke out.

"Please.. what?" He growls.

"Please daddy!"

He chuckles. "You want it rough baby?" I nod and a tear runs down my cheek at how bad I need him.

"Be careful what you ask for." In one motion, he enters me fully, causing me to scream out at the sudden sensation. My body feels like it was just completely ripped in half, and I wouldn't want it any other way so I cry out for him to do it again. He smirks before pulling out all the way and ramming himself back in.

He starts thrusting at a steady pace and I concentrate on the way his balls feel slapping against me.

Even more tears fall from my face from the extreme emotions he's making me feel. Horny, desperate, obsessed, in.. love.

Fuck.

"Baby. Why are you crying?" He slows his pace and leans over me, assessing my eyes.

"I - I don't know. I - I just.."

"You want me to stop?" his voice is filled with lust and concern.

"No! .. No, don't stop. I just.."

I love you.

"I want it slower." I lie.

"Y/n.. I know you better than that already." He says gently as he thrusts into me deep and agonizingly slow. His lips brush over my ear. "Tell me, baby." He kisses my neck before grabbing my jaw firmly and looking for answers in my eyes. "Tell me, y/n, or I'm stopping."

I close my eyes and blurt out before I can stop myself. "I - I think I love you."

Jeffrey's expression falls serious and he looks back and forth between my eyes while slowly releasing my jaw. His head drops and his eyes close as if he just got slapped, but he continues fucking me.

"Goddamn it, y/n... I told you.. I told you not to catch feelings."

I just stare at him and cry. "I'm sorry."

He closes his eyes again tightly as if contemplating what he should do next. Before I can say anything else, his lips crash against mine. I kiss him back passionately and his tongue slips into my mouth. He picks up the pace with our kiss and his hips and I moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, baby. What am I gonna do with you?" his breathing grows faster and heavier with mine.

"Jeffrey.. fuck, I'm - I'm."

"Cum for me, baby." He growls and quickens his thrusts again.

I scream out for him and he moans into my neck.

"Jeffrey.. you know what else I fantasize about?" I ask him while trying to catch my breath.

"What's that, baby?" His balls slap against me over and over and over.

"What you taste like when you cum."

He lifts his head to look at me and paints a devilish grin across his face. "Yeah? You want me to cum in that pretty mouth, baby?"

I nod without question. I've dreamt about what this man tastes like for so long. If this is our one and only night together, I need to know.

"Fuck." He pulls out of me and leans back on his knees, bringing my head with him as his fingers tightly grip my hair.

"You ready, baby? Open up." His voice is deep and hoarse as he moans out and I swear I've never heard a man sound as sexy as he does right now.

His warm, salty cum fills my throat and I greedily swallow every drop of him, licking his tip until he's completely drained.

"Holyyy shit. Look at my dirty girl." He grins down at me and strokes my hair like he's proud.

He drops down in the bed and holds his arm out for me to lay next to him. I lay my head on his chest and listen to his rapid heart beat. A few minutes pass and I'm hoping he forgot about my little comment earlier. Well - big comment. I can't believe I told him I love him. I mean, I do love him and I think I have for awhile now, but why did I have to be a psycho and tell him that.

He finally breaks the silence. "Y/n.. We have to talk about it."

I sigh. Here it goes. "I know.. listen.. I didn't mean it. Obviously, I barely know you. I was caught up in the moment and I was just.. emotional. I promise I'm - I'm not crazy. I know this is a one time thing and I'm okay with that."

"Hmph." I feel his chest rise a little and he sighs. I lift my head up to look at him and he smiles wide at me before kissing my lips.

"That's too bad y/n.. Cause I was thinking we could do this again tomorrow."

The End.

If you read this, thank you so much. This is my first time writing fanfiction, so pls be nice. If you hate it, I'll cry. :') Xo,kb.

[joocomics]

begging

day 7 — formal wear w/ gunil ⌞⌗ kinktober ⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 brat tamer!gunil x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.4k

contains: established relationship, bratty!reader, spanking, degradation kink, strength kink, cussing, pet names, name calling (brat/slut once or twice), restraints, edging kink

[ kinktober masterlist | general masterlist ]

“Have you thought about what movie you want to watch tonight?” Gunil asks from the other side of the bedroom.

His hand is loosening up his tie, but his eyes don’t leave you out of sight as you’re stomping around. The usual excitement you have on your face when you’re here for the weekend is nowhere to be found. There’s only bitterness.

You don’t glance in his direction when you answer that you’re not in the mood to watch a movie, and it was better that you didn’t, because you were only going to complicate things for yourself. You were going to see his naked upper body exposed by the white unbuttoned shirt and distract yourself from being mad at him. Your desire would’ve only grown stronger at the sight and that would’ve frustrated you further, because you’re obviously not having sex tonight.

He barely paid attention to you in the car, he wouldn’t start now.

You tell him you’re going to bed after you shower and grab your towel.

“It’s still not even ten pm.” Gunil sighs as you walk past him without acknowledging his words, or presence even, and barge in the shower.

You feel his eyes on you the entire time as you get ready for bed.

You rarely bring any pajamas, because you prefer to wear his clothes when you’re here, and now he’s watching you go through his wardrobe. You're taking more time than you need just to force him to trace every single curve of your body that’s only in a pair of panties for as long as possible.

“What's bothering you, sweetheart?” He asks behind you.

“Oh, now you want to pay attention to me?” You huff and pull a black t-shirt before turning to face him.

Gunil raises a brow at your confrontation. He cannot have more of this attitude today.

“Is this about what happened in the car?”

You remain silent while picking your words. Your one foot is tapping at the floor while your arms stay crossed as the seconds pass.

Gunil takes a deep breath before speaking up first.

“You know I don't like being distracted while I'm on the road!” His jaw tenses as he tries to figure out why you can't understand this. “Are you seriously upset, because I didn't let you suck me off while I was driving? Where's this spoiled attitude coming from?!”

You decide to erase the distance between the two of you so you sit next to him on the bed with a sigh. You're just now noticing that he still hasn't changed from the suit he had to wear today for a work event - the black dress pants are still on his body, the shirt is still hanging loose, open, exposing his toned stomach.

“I just missed you, baby.” You put both arms around his shoulders, breathing in his cologne. Your pouty lips are close to his ear as you speak with a guilty tone that hopefully will ease his nerves. “Haven't seen you in days, I couldn't wait to have you back in my arms. I'm surprised how you can even deny me when I'm this needy. Most guys would be on cloud nine.”

When he tilts his head you're inches apart. Without realising, you swallow, so turned on by his serious gaze, as you wait for him to finally kiss you. The moment of anticipation only grows longer until his lips slightly curl up in a smirk as he moves a hand behind your back and positions you over his knees.

You've been in this pose before and you know what it means.

Your cheeks automatically flush with excitement, and you're thankful Gunil can't see your face and tease you for it.

You squeal from the sudden swift way he balanced you on his thighs and how quickly the first slap landed on your ass. He didn't even gave you time to prepare or expect it.

He spanks you again. Then again one more time.

“Baby,” you whine, kicking your feet in the air. “Why?”

“And you have the audacity to ask.” Gunil smacks you again; this time on the other cheek while staring down at your underwear. “Why? You really want to hear how fuckin' spoiled you sound right now?”

You've gotten familiar with how his punishments work.

The slaps go from light, but firm, to hard, coming from a bigger distance. Even if he tries to smack you lightly it still wouldn't feel like a soft slap, because of how heavy his hands are. Most of the time he can't tell how much strength he's actually putting into his touch, but that's exactly what turns you on.

“Tell me,” you mumble quietly.

Several new slaps fall onto your cheeks. Each stronger than the previous one. You start to feel the bittersweet stinging on your skin more clearer now, but it's still nothing compared to how it's going to feel later.

“Tsk,” Gunil squeezes your flesh before hitting it again - this one makes you whimper louder and the erotic sound shoots a pleasant thrill through his body, “I should make your punishments longer.” His right palm roams over one of your bare cheeks; his nails are teasing the area of skin that's turning warmer with each slap. “Do you really believe other guys would want a girl who needs to be taught how to behave all the time, huh? Who won't stop running her filthy mouth?”

You hear a muffling noise above you - a quick sliding of fabric against another clothing. You gasp softly once Gunil gets a hold of your wrists and ties them together with what must be his fancy black tie. He hasn't done this before. The unexpected act forces you to answer faster.

“No...”

Gunil's attractive laugh rings in the silence, and you try to imagine how hot he looks in this dominant state, with your body dressed only in a pair of underwear, placed on his lap.

“I don't think so too,” he replies and his voice comes out more gruff sounding than a moment before, sending goosebumps over your naked skin where underneath there’s a burning delight flowing.

Soon enough, your ass is all heated up and Gunil's fingers decide to touch you elsewhere for a change. Not to give you what you want, but out of curiosity, and because the view of your punished ass which makes him weak in any state, but especially this one, doubles his desire to pull your panties to the side.

You mewl weakly on the instant at the nice feeling of his hand finally appearing between your burning cheeks.

“I knew you'd be wet, but not this much, fuck—” The tips of his fingers slide through your folds and easily get covered in your arousal. If he wants to push them inside you, he wouldn't need to use any amount of force, they would slip in right away. “You're one filthy girl.”

“Ah, baby, please—”

Your moisture fuels his body with the sweet familiar rush, and he sighs, suppressing the need to buck up his hips. The way your eager voice starts to plead at him as he spreads your cheeks to see how you clench around nothing makes it even harder to resist you.

“Please, I'll be good, please touch me.”

“Stay still.” He commands and approves of the way your feet freeze. “I hear you begging, but I didn't hear you apologise.” His strong hand slaps you out of nowhere, pulling yet another whimper out of your lips. “You behave like a true horny slut.”

“I'm so sorry, please!” Your brows drawn in together as you focus on the movements of his firm fingers gliding so softly, barely pressing against your slippery folds. “I'll be a good girl from now on, p-promise, I won't bother you when you drive anymore.”

Your figure vividly squirms on Gunil's lap as he guides them closer in the direction of your clit then all the way back only to smack you several times again, right on top of the reddish marks of his palm.

“I'll buy a toy and next time you act up I'll use that instead of my fingers, remember this.”

You cry out at the thought of some vibrator replacing his experienced touch.

“I'll take anything you give me, but no toys, please, baby!” You beg as your heart begins to jump harder the longer he keeps brushing his fingers against your dripping entrance. You need them inside as soon as possible, but you know how strong his patience can be when he has you in his control like this. The more you tell him to please you, the longer he will drag on this punishment. “I need you... just you.”

“Then you shouldn't have brought up those other guys, sweetie.”

He spits roughly onto your exposed slick folds, then fixes your stained panties.

And slaps again.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[ridestomars]

ISN'T SHE LOVELY? – S. HARRINGTON

𖥻 summary: the party meets y/n and steve's firstborn. 𖥻 pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader 𖥻 warnings: girl dad!steve. the baby's name is amelia. too much fluff. everyone is alive and well thank you. one dirty dancing reference. bad grammar, italics & not proofread (hey it's me). 2k-ish words. weird divs :/

💭 liv's thoughts: this is based on an idea i had last year (s4 i miss you) and a sequel of sorts to my 'all is well universe' of sunny days that won't ever end – you don't have to read it, but pls do it's v sweet. i hope you like it! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

The sound of loud chattering could be heard from the end of the hallway, which wasn't surprising, given the number of people that were sharing the limited space of the apartment's living room. The kids – can you even call them that anymore? – were never known for their ability to speak quietly whenever they were together. However, everyone seemed to be in such a good mood that you can even hear the loud sound of Jonathan's laugh. There's a first time for everything, right?

You held the small baby in your arms, walking in slow steps out of her little nursery. Though you tried not to disturb your daughter too much, Amelia already had her big brown eyes open and searching for the source of all that noise. She wasn't used to such noises, being too accustomed to her parents' soft-spoken voices and the entertaining sound of their television – that didn't play anything other than Steve's recordings of Barney episodes. It's only natural that she finds the commotion strange.

As you arrive in the living room, you are greeted by Steve in his typical mom pose, hands on his hips as he watches Michael and Max's every move, anxiously waiting for his girls. From his stance, you can see that he already regrets the idea of inviting everyone over. Taking in the very worried furrow of his eyebrows, you just know that he is going over the most pessimistic thoughts as he looks at the crowded living room.

Appearing with the small baby in your arms, everyone gasped in surprise and amazement, including Steve, who quickly made his way over to you with the goofiest, most endearing smile. His big hands wrap around Amelia's small frame, as he leans down to take her from your arms. He has that sweet look on his face, that brightens even more when he sees the chubbiness of the baby's laughing cheeks. Delicately, like he's carrying the world's most precious jewel (he is!), your husband shows Amy to everyone, with a proud glimmer in his eyes.

"There she is!" he maneuvers her chubby body tenderly, making the baby sit on his arm to face everyone. Her upper body leaned on his chest for support, and she squealed happily when her curious eyes noticed how many people were in their living room. Unhesitating, Steve translates it to everyone, "Millie says hi". 

That was enough to erupt a string of awws, sighs and one high-pitched "she's so adorable!" from Eddie. It was funny to see how a human being so small had everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger. Even Max, who usually had a hard time showing any emotion other than pure annoyance, was goofily smiling at the baby, admiring her brown (and very full) hair and round cheeks. 

The kids were the most eager to get to know Amelia, with Dustin being the spokesman for their wishes, telephoning almost every day since the baby was born to ask when they could meet her. So, it's no surprise that the first person to make grabby hands to hold her next was Henderson himself. "C'mon, Steve, let me hold my goddaughter!" he exclaims as he looks at your girl in absolute awe. 

"Your goddaughter?" Eddie asks, scoffing from his seat at the couch's armrest, next to the boy. "Yeah, right".

"Guys," Robin quickly intervenes, rolling her eyes as she watches the two bickering all over again over the matter. She was seated comfortably in the chair by your living room's small table, alongside Vicky. "Not this again, please?"

That wasn't enough to silence Eddie and Dustin, who began to argue harder about who is supposed to be the baby's godfather. The usual arguments were professed, "You're not old enough!", "but I'm the most mature!", "The baby's lullaby shouldn't be Dio!", "And it shouldn't be Weird Al Yankovic either!"

Given that he couldn't clap, Steve stomped his foot on the ground as he commanded the room's attention to him again, "Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaimed, letting out a satisfied breath when everyone falls silent again. "So, before we let you hold our daughter, I'd like to go over some rules-".

Loud groans erupt from everyone's mouths, and Amelia looks up at her dad, even more curious.

The kids were squished on the living room's small couch, surprisingly fitting in the space where you and Steve had a hard time adjusting in. Eleven was sitting on the side of the couch's armrest, patiently kicking her feet as Mike, Will, and Dustin elbowed each other in a silent fight for more space by her side. At the end of the couch, Max, Lucas and Erica found a way to position themselves without struggling too much. It was so crowded that poor Suzy had to sit on an old puff that Steve had bought in a garage sale when you moved in together ("It'll come in handy one day, you'll see!" Steve exclaimed while he walked off the sale holding the object, victoriously), right at Dustin's feet. On one side of the sofa, Eddie was slouched on the armrest, while Nancy sat on the other, as put-together as ever. Near her, Jonathan leaned against the apartment's wall, chatting with Argyle and Eden.

Amelia was carefully handed to Dustin, who sat in the middle of the couch. You figured it was the best position to have everyone look at her, an democratic decision, but it was still possible to hear Eddie complaining under his breath.

Your daughter got used to Dustin's hold fast, only shifting her tiny body over his arms a couple of times to find her position. When she did, Amy made one of those adorable baby sounds, showing everyone that she was incredibly satisfied now; and it was like the world had stopped for all of them. The only thing that mattered was to witness baby Harrington simply exist. Feasting your eyes on the scene, you hold Steve's waist, hugging him from behind as you rest your face against his arm, not being able to battle the tears that filled your eyes. Your heart was swelling with pride.

"She's pretty," El murmured, her voice sounding even quieter now, as her eyes sparkled at the sight of the little one.

With a trembling voice, Dustin agreed, "She is very pretty". 

"Yeah," Will says as he watches Millie yawn, "She looks just like you, Y/N". 

"Lucky for her," Mike and Max remark in unison, immediately glaring at each other with narrowed eyes. That makes everyone laugh, and baby Amelia opens up her eyes to check it out, opening a toothless grin after. Max, feeling as if her witty remark was stolen by the boy, adds, "It'd be such a shame if she had Steve's dead-fish stare. Thank God she has Y/N's eyes, too". 

At that, your husband gawks at her, letting out an offended gasp. He's so upset that his mouth hangs open, as he looks at her, in complete silence. Catching his incredulity, Max only shrugs, as if to say, "What can I do?".

"Well, at least she has his hair," Lucas observes, mediating the situation, as usual. 

"Thank you, Lucas!" Steve breathes out, feeling he got the justice he deserved. 

The bickering soon faded into a familiar silence, as everyone's attention fell fully on your little girl, who slept peacefully in Dustin's arms, completely ignoring the commotion around her. And that was when the emotional weight of the moment fell on all of you. Glistened eyes watched in tranquility as the baby squirmed every once in a while, as the importance of the scene settled. Amelia's sole existence reassured you of a peace that you hadn't known in years, as if she was the last step in sealing the serene fate that awaited all of you. She was living proof that life is still normal, and despite all the hard times, it isn't all that bad, actually.

Seeing those grown-up kids taking care of a small piece of you and Steve filled your heart with delight, and a different sense of fulfillment that you hadn't known until now. It's so meaningful. 

The nostalgia of seeing their sweet faces intensified when the kids started to argue about who was going to hold Amelia next, and suddenly the apartment was filled with loud chattering all over again. Just like the old times… but, somehow, better.

"Jonathan, look!" Nancy points out to little Amelia scrunching her nose, as if to suggest that he should snap a picture of the baby like that. Now, the kid was laying in Robin's arms, having her full head of hair brushed by Auntie Bobby – the lame nickname was picked by Steve, of course. "What a cute little nose you have, Amy!"

The oldest Wheeler compliments the baby in a high-pitched tone, as if the girl would actually understand. By her side, Jonathan kept taking pictures of the baby, snapping beautiful frames with that domestic feeling that you're growing used to; he promised that he'll develop all of them later. 

"When's her birthday?" Eden asks quietly, as she smooches her face against Argyle's arm, watching the baby in wonder. 

"October thirty-first," Steve answers quickly, not helping himself. Ever since the baby was born, he started to cultivate this staggering need to answer anything Amelia-related, talking about her constantly as if he didn't know how to chat about anything else.

With that spaced-out way of his, like he just had snapped out of a trance by the baby's birth date, Argyle lets out a chuckle, looking down at Millie with… respect, it seemed. "Ooh, Scorpio. Cool, man". 

Then, everyone falls back into silence, just appreciating her small features and lovable babbles. However, Steve seems a little skeptical about how cool it is for his kid to be a Scorpio, and he slowly turns his head to look at you, giving Argyle a bit of a side-eye when he does so. "What did he mean by that? Isn't that, like, bad?" he whispers to you, still watching your friends interact with Amelia from the corner of his eyes.

"No!" you immediately reassure him, telling a little half-truth, "It just means that she's very… sweet". 

Steve seems satisfied by your answer, mainly because he doesn't ask any further questions, and he goes back to keeping his eyes on Robin, making sure that she's holding your kid correctly. It isn't his fault that she has spaghetti arms, alright? 

Eddie soon joins in, though he doesn't look very pleased about it, walking to stand in front of Robin with an exasperated expression on his face. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at the girl. You watch the scene unfold with confusion. 

"Well?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows as if he is waiting for something, though he doesn't say what it is. 

Rob looks up, still playing with the baby's hair, pursing her lips while she waits for Eddie to explain why he is interrupting her moment with Amelia. From over her shoulder, Vicky makes funny faces at the small girl, making loud squeals come out of your daughter's mouth.

When he doesn't say anything, Robin asks, "What, Munson?", blinking her eyes vigorously as she tilts her head.

"You're taking too long!" he tells her like that was the only answer possible. "It's been fifteen minutes already, it's my turn!"

After Eddie's little protest (thankfully, he didn't feel the need to get on top of your table this time), everyone took turns holding baby Millie in their arms. You didn't mind it, because you knew that your friends were just very excited to be meeting your daughter for the first time, but you cannot say the same for Steve. He was hating every second of it.

"Y/N, I can't take it," he breathes out once he pulls you to the side, hiding with you in the kitchen, away from prying ears, "They're passing her around like a joint". 

"Relax, Stevie," you try to calm him down, though it's useless. Spying into the living room again, you see that Amelia is laying in Eleven's arms, which warms your chest a little. "El's rocking her to sleep, there's no prob-" 

You quickly stop talking when Mike takes the baby from his girlfriend's grasp, having a hard time managing his long limbs around the kid's small frame. Eyes widening, you look to Steve, wanting to catch his reaction to the scene. 

And he's fuming. 

But just as he is getting ready to stomp his way over to Michael, you hold his arm, keeping him back and away from the kids. "Give them a break," is how you begin to reason with him, "he's getting the hang of it". 

"Well, my daughter shouldn't be their little guinea pig," he huffs back, crossing his arms.

"Don't be like that," you persuade. "You didn't know how to hold her either, and now you're, like, a pro. Right?". 

His hardened expression seems to melt at your compliment – Steve always feels so elated whenever people praise his parenting skills, especially when it comes from you. Your husband's cheeks flush a little, and he looks down, a bit bashful. 

"You mean it?" he asks, playing with the loose seems of his yellow sweater.

"Of course, I mean it," giggling, you get closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pull him in for a hug. "She's so lucky to have you as her dad. Actually, we're so lucky to have you in our lives". 

He chuckles a little, pleased to still gain such flattery from you. From where you stood, you can clearly see the timid redness that cripples from his neck up to his cheeks, which makes him seem even more adorable in your eyes. But even his striking looks didn't distract you from the intimate feeling of his hand resting over the small of your back, drawing you closer for a sweet peck on the lips. It's funny how still after all this time, Steve was able to make you feel endless electricity and warmth just by the simple touch of his lips. 

Unfortunately for you, the pleasant moment was ruined by someone clearing their throat. Pulling apart from the kiss, you and Steve looked ahead, catching Eddie and Dustin's embarrassed faces after interrupting. 

"Hey, so, hm…", Dustin starts, clearly not knowing how he should start, still very awkward succeeding the scene they had just break in on. 

"We have settled on who should be Amy's godfather, and we swear-", Eddie cuts in, talking at full speed. But before he could get on with their (definitely) deep and sensible reasoning, you hear Steve groaning. "Jesus, guys. Not this again".

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve and eddie. 

𖤐 I AM RESTARTING MY TAGLIST! if you want to be added to my taglist, just click here.

[ninzied]

weeds

based on the prompt: a kiss on a falling tear. brownstone/bonus chapter era. 600 word ficlet.

Henry has been surrounded by flowers all his life.

Flowers in every hallway and room. Atop every table and flanking every door that led to yet more hallways, yet more rooms. Flowers that were fussed over, flowers that were arranged to perfection despite being replaced at least once a day. Flowers in the palace gardens where Henry used to escape as a child, wishing the mazes could swallow him whole.

Flowers at the funeral.

Flowers at the royal wedding, when his life jump-started again.

And now, flowers in the brownstone that Alex has just moved into with him. They’re daisies in an assortment of colors. Nothing extraordinary, though they would’ve turned heads at the palace for that very reason alone. Henry’s pretty sure they’re classified as weeds, technically speaking.

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

That is, apart from the man who’s just brought them home on a whim, who’s now calling to Henry over his shoulder, “Babe, do you think these would look good in a mug?”

Henry thinks he would love them anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever he can. This little life he’s building with Alex is the brightest, fullest, most incredible thing, and he will not take a single bit of it for granted.

.

They go to the MoMA. It’s the first touristy thing that they’ve done since moving in together. And, Henry realizes, watching Alex tear through his wardrobe looking for the perfect cover, it’s one of the first museums he’ll have been to during normal daylight hours.

Alex gleefully poses Henry in all the various hats that he owns. He makes a grave miscalculation when it comes to his black Stetson, which delays their leaving the house by many, many hours. Alex finally comes to the breathless conclusion that it would draw too much attention if Henry were to wear it outside.

(“Mm,” says Henry, still catching his breath back himself. “You can’t possibly mean from you, of course.”

“Definitely not,” Alex agrees, already moving to kiss him again.)

They walk hand-in-hand through the museum sometime even later, in baseball caps and soft t-shirts, and Henry can’t believe this gets to be his life now. They let themselves be jostled along with the crowds, Angus up ahead of them. He needn’t be; no one so much as looks at them twice.

Eventually, they wander their way up to the fifth level. They step into a room where Henry finds himself once again surrounded by flowers.

The largest painting occupies three panels, spanning a significant length of the room. Gran has taken great pride in the royal collection over the years, pieces the family could access in private whenever they so pleased. But there’s something about standing here, with Alex. Just two people, being in love while looking at art. Like it’s something extraordinary, this beautifully ordinary thing they can do.

“Huh,” Alex murmurs, reading the placard. “Took him twelve years to paint this.” He squeezes Henry’s hand, then adds almost offhandedly: “I think that’s about how long it took after seeing you in J14 for the first time. Getting to finally kiss you, I mean.”

Henry looks at Alex with a feeling much too big for words. He smiles, his chest aching with it. The feeling wells up, touching the edges of his vision until he sees in watercolor. “Darling,” he says. “Are you comparing our love story to a Monet?”

“Please.” Alex looks affronted. “This guy’s got nothing on us.”

It’s blasphemous, surely. But as Alex leans in, kissing away a tear on his cheek, Henry thinks he’s secretly rather inclined to agree.

also on ao3.

[heich0e]

The faint plucking of guitar strings drifts around the corner from the bedroom, greeting you as you press yourself flat to the wall just on the other side of the doorway.

Your hands rest over your diaphragm, feeling the way each unsteady breath makes your ribcage expand and contract every time you breathe in and out. The material of your t-shirt is soft underneath your fingertips, and you twist it up into your fists as you brace yourself.

Slowly, you peek your head around the corner.

Semi is seated at the edge of the bed, dressed in only a pair of underwear. His guitar is in his lap, one hand loosely circling the neck while the other is scribbling something down into the well-loved notebook he carries with him at nearly all hours of the day. His silvery hair is pinned back at his temples with two cute little barrettes he'd stolen from you, and it leaves his concentrated face on full display for you to appreciate.

He notices you immediately when you appear, his eyes flickering up from the page of his notebook to meet yours. He smiles, slightly crooked and deeply fond just like it always is.

"Hey, stranger."

You smile back, or at least you try to. Something about the soft way Semi speaks to you has always made you preen slightly--made you feel shiny, and special, and precious. Its effects are slightly dulled today.

"Hey," you greet him in return, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe and resting your weight against it. "You busy?"

"No, no," he shakes his head emphatically. "What's up?"

The curtains hanging over the window behind him are open and letting in the view of the morning outside. The light is soft, an early fog still hanging in the air that the sun hasn't yet had the chance to burn off, diffusing the sunlight delicately through the sky. It saturates everything--the world outside, the bedroom, the boy sitting atop your bed--in warmth.

Eita looks at you with no reservation. His face open and honest and unsuspecting.

"So, it's not a big deal or anything," you start, your fingers plucking absentmindedly at the oversized shirt that you'd worn to bed, "I just told myself that I'd tell you today if nothing changed. And, uh, it didn't so..."

Semi's brow furrows, his smile dipping slightly in confusion.

You look up at the ceiling.

"It's probably not anything, so there's no reason to worry or whatever, but like... I'm late. By three weeks. Which isn't... like... you know. But I mean it's kind of a lot."

Your eyes burn as you stare at a spot of sunlight on the ceiling. You wonder what it's reflected from.

You're too scared to tear your eyes away from it.

"Do you think..." Semi can't even quite bring himself to pose the question in its entirety. Can't even bring himself to speak the word, like uttering it might make it real. You know the feeling.

You shrug apathetically.

"Not sure."

You hear some rustling.

"Hey, c'mere."

You look down and see that Eita has set his guitar aside, and sits with his arms opened at the end of the bed, beckoning you into his waiting embrace. You swallow and shuffle over, standing between his parted thighs. His arms wind tight around your waist, and he presses his face against your sternum as he pulls you tightly together.

"You shoulda told me sooner, you must have been stressed," he says gently. It's not really chiding, at least not in a way that leaves you any room to feel admonished. He sounds guilty that you were going through it all alone.

"I've just been trying not to think about it too much," you admit quietly, one hand on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck, tracing through the soft tresses that curl there.

You hold each other like that for a moment.

"I mean," Semi's breath is caught in the material of your t-shirt each time he speaks, the fabric warming with every word. "It it even possible?"

You shrug a little bit again, even though he can't see you. You two haven't been the most responsible lately, nor the least. But stranger things have happened. He pulls away and glances up at you.

"I mean, it's not impossible," you reply.

He catches the edge of his lip between the point of his canine, gnawing on it thoughtfully.

"Okay," he says after a moment. "So we should like, get you a test or something, yeah?"

You're a little shocked that he's being so rational. So calm. You're not really sure what you expected. It's not like Semi's irrational or un-calm as a general rule, or anything--this situation just isn't one that you have any point of reference for.

You find yourself nodding dumbly in response, lost for words.

Half an hour later you and Eita stand side by side in the pharmacy, dressed in similar haphazardly put together outfits of sweatpants and hoodies and sneakers. You have on a baseball cap, and Semi still has those barrettes in his hair.

You had no idea there were so many kinds of pregnancy tests.

Blue box, pink box, white box. Digital result. Consumer's choice. 99% accuracy. Fast response. Most trusted brand nationwide. Your eyes flicker from one variety to the next, taking in their various packaging and claims, the terms whirling around your mind nearly incoherently. You're overwhelmed.

Eita must notice.

"Hey,"--he dips down so his face takes over your line of sight, bent at the waist to get close to you--"you should go get us some coffees next door, I'll grab what we need here."

Your eyes scan his face for a moment, but you find only reassurance in his gaze, and then you nod.

Semi finds you outside of the coffee shop not long after with two iced drinks in hand, seated on a little bench. The plastic pharmacy bag with his purchase is looped casually over his wrist, and your eyes are drawn to it unconsciously as it rustles with each step of his approach.

"What did you get me?" he asks with a blithe, easygoing smile as he looks at the coffees in your hand. He always gets the same thing--a black americano--but every single time he asks anyway.

You hold up his drink for him to take.

"My favourite!" he says, accepting the beverage excitedly. "Thank you."

At home, the two of you sit on top of your bed with your coffees in hand, and Eita reads through the instructions that he'd found after he shook the contents of one (of FOUR) of the pregnancy test packages he'd bought out onto the bedspread.

"Okay, so it says here that you just have to pee on this part,"--Semi puts his coffee cup down in the cradle of his legs and then uncaps the little stick in his hand, pointing at the end. His eyes scan over the sheet of instructions of his lap. "It says you can also 'collect a sample' but if you do that you have to make sure you're using a clean cup."

"I don't wanna piss in one of our cups," you say miserably.

He glances up at you sympathetically.

"Okay, okay," he says, reading onwards. "It says that if you're testing early in the suspected pregnancy it should be your first pee of the morning, and that you shouldn't drink a lot of liquid beforehand if that's the case too."

That wouldn't really apply to you, given how late your period is.

Eita looks up suddenly, his eyes fixed to the cup of coffee held to your lips. You watch him curiously.

"What?" you ask him, chewing on the end of your straw.

He bites down on his lower lip for a moment, like he's grappling with something. "Should you be... y'know. Drinking that? Coffee, I mean."

You blink. You're not sure, actually.

"I thought, like if you are..." His eyes flicker up to yours, his expression a bit strained.

You hadn't thought twice about ordering your usual coffee that morning. You haven't thought twice about anything you've been drinking, or eating, or doing over the past three weeks. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You don't know anything about pregnancy, but you know that there's a list longer than the Shinano river about the things you're supposed to avoid.

Your lips flatten into a line.

"Hey, hey," Semi senses your sudden panic and rushes to reassure you. "It's gonna be fine. We might be worrying for nothing. We're gonna be fine."

The pregnancy test says the results will be final after three minutes, and Semi waits outside the bathroom door with a timer as you wash your hands. You would have thought that the three minutes would have taken a long time to pass, but by the time you finish drying your hands and shuffle back out to the bedroom where your boyfriend is waiting for you wringing his hands, it really takes no time at all before the alarm on his phone to signify the three minutes has elapsed is chiming through the room.

Not pregnant.

The results on the test are clear, and you feel an immediate rush of relief.

"Let me see," Eita says after you read him the result, reaching for the test.

"Eita, I pissed on this," you say with a laugh, keeping it from his reach. You turn the test in your hand so he can see the result, and you watch as his eyes scan the little stick intensely.

"You should take another one," he says almost immediately, surprisingly serious in tone. His eyes flicker up to yours and the corner of his mouth lifts in a weak smile. "Just in case, y'know?"

It takes you almost an hour and a half to get through not one more, but all three remaining tests (at Eita's continued insistence)--because, as it turns out, your body was not meant to urinate on command.

Finally, all four tests return the same result.

You are NOT pregnant.

You flop back onto your bed with an almost hysterical giggle, tossing your arm over your eyes.

"That was so stressful," you say, letting out a long breath.

Eita is very quiet below you.

You open your eyes and push yourself up on your elbows. At the end of the bed, your boyfriend is sitting with one leg pulled up onto the mattress, staring at the four completed tests with an emotion you don't quite understand.

"Hey," you call down to him, and he looks over at you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he assures you quickly. He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Nothing. I promise. It's just,"--he stares down at the tests again-- "I think I got a bit excited, is all."

Your eyes widen, your heart giving a great, almighty throb in your chest.

"Is that weird?" he asks you, turning to look at you once more, his tone barely above a whisper.

You blink, utterly dumbfounded.

The midday sun outside your bedroom has cleared away the early morning fog now, and it shines brightly on the city outside. Eita is backlit by the glow, eclipsing it.

"No, no of course that's not weird," you finally reply, your throat tight. "But a baby, Eita?"

Semi's head hangs a little bit.

"I mean, we both wanna have them some day right?" He fiddles with a piece of packaging leftover from one of the tests idly. "We're both adults. We've got good jobs. We have our own place, and I know it's not huge or anything but I think it would get us by for a few years. And I love you, so..."

Your stomach clenches, and you push yourself up, crawling down to the bottom of the bed and into Eita's lap at the end of his sheepish explanation. His hands rest at your waist, his fingers dipping under the hem of your hoodie without thinking.

"You wanna have a baby with me?" you repeat a variation of your earlier question, still incredulous but now almost giddy.

Eita's eyes trace your face: your eyes, your nose, your lips.

He nods. "Yeah, I do."

He leans forwards and kisses you sweetly.

His lips still taste like his americano.

His fingertips are calloused from years of guitar playing.

He's warm like the sun.

You pull away, but Eita follows you a bit before he lets your lips part.

"If we have a baby, you have to marry me you know," you tell him firmly.

He laughs, his smile wide and bright. He leans forward, resting this forehead against your shoulder.

"I'd have taken you to the city register's office first thing this morning before we stopped at the pharmacy, if you would've let me." He lifts his face and peeks up at you, his lashes fluttering against his suddenly pink cheeks. "I'd still take you now."

You swallow thickly, watching the way Eita's tongue peeks out to moisten his pink lips. You dip forward until you can feel the heat of his mouth under your own.

"Courthouse can come later," you whisper.

There's something you'd much rather spend the day doing, after all.

[jakeeyyxoxoxo]

A-R-T 🌙

Pairings: Jake Sim x Reader, Jay Park x Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 778

Song: ART by Tyla

Part 1| Part 2|

His eyes travelled your body as you laid still on the bed, he has studied your body. Every curve and peeled back every layer, hoping to see more. You were his muse, he painted you in 50 shades and hues. He used every medium he could find to showcase you. You were his A-R-T.

“That’ll be all today”, Jay spoke softly; as he put down his paint brush, “Just 2 more sessions and we’ll be done”. His art studio was huge, very spacious. One could hear their own echo even when whispering. There were paintbrushes and art supplies everywhere. It was messy but you believed that was the way the mind of an artist worked.

You were a portrait model that caught his eye just from looking at one picture from your portfolio. For his painting, he wants to crave your sensuality on the canvas. You’ve posed for him 3 times already.

“Thank God”, you giggled, “laying on that mattress was starting to get uncomfortable”. You wrapped yourself in the slik sheet that was originally draped over your body for the painting. You made sure to expose nothing while remaining sensual. “Where did u get that thing?”, you questioned as you fixed you afro. It had flattened due to laying on it for so long.

“I found it on the sidewalk”, he smiled as he dropped his paintbrushes into the cleaning solution. Your eyebrows shot up as you gasped at the information. “Jay! You could’ve told me that’, you yelled, jokingly.

A knock was heard as you both turned to face the direction of the sound. There stood a tall male with a warm small on his face. Jay watched the way your eye lit up as they met Jake’s. He studied your face, all he wanted was to make you his A-R-T.

You waddled over to him, making sure not to drop the sheet, you didn’t want people seeing you undies. “Babe!”, you squealed as he pulled you into his arms. Jake was here to pick you from your gig, as he always was. Never late and always on time. “How was it love?”, he asked.

“It’s nothing new babe”, you stated, “I just lay there for hours”. He thought it was cute how much you loved what you do. Jake’s eyes remained on you but he couldn’t help but feel the other male’s stare on him. “I know babe; I just wanna make sure you had a lovely day”.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna get changed and I’ll be back”, you smiled; leaning in to put a small kiss on his cheek before waddling away. They both watched you go around the corner to the bathrooms. The atmosphere slightly thickened as Jay turned his portrait away from Jake.

This caused Jake to raise an eyebrow, he always thought Jay was little off. Only you and Jay had seen the portraits of you, Jake never saw them. He never doubted you but he never trusted Jay.

“So when are the portraits going to be showcased?”, Jake asked. Keeping his distance from the other gentleman, He was just holding friendly conversation. Jay answered; completely unbothered by Jake awkwardness. “When I decide to showcase them”.

“Isn’t 4 enough?”, Jake continued. Jay turned to face him as he listened to him talk, “It’s kinda getting weird at this point”.

“I mean you’ve been painting her for the last couple years for an exhibit but not one of her portraits have been in a gallery”. It burned Jay hearing someone else speak on his art especially when they knew not what they spoke of.

“Don’t insert yourself into something that doesn’t involve you”, Jay responded softly. He scoffed as he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, “My art has nothing to do with you”.

“This is between y/n and I”, he finished as you walked in. You looked between the two; it looked they were having some exchanges. Everytime you left these two alone by the time you come back the atmosphere is just thick and suffocating.

“Are you ready love?”, Jake asked. You nodded taking his hand you both headed towards the exit. However, Jay’s words were stuck in Jakes head.

“This is between Y/n and I”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It was 4:43am; Jay sat in art studio. There was only one light and it easy very dim. He sat on the floor of his chilly studio; surrounded by every portrait of you that he has painted. They brought peace to him, you were his piece. With his hands he would be able to paint the most beautiful Portrait. You were his A-R-T.

“He has no idea”, he mumbled; picking up his wine glass, “His mind is too small to grasp the gem he has”.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok no let me explain you a thing.

I can't take it. I literally can't take this moment without making a sound somewhere in the back of my throat. It's the cutest thing ever and it's this frame here that makes it.

Look, I know this is Wan. I know Wan isn't really canon and this is the preschool episode so it's even less so. But there's something in here that is an absolutely canon thing Akutagawa does.

The scene starts off with Akutagawa's typical reverence and excitement that Dazai is sitting near him. Nothing particularly notable there. But then Dazai gets excited by what's going on and Akutagawa gives him this look and I just can't take it man.

Because that's a genuinely fond look. He's happy for him. He's happy Dazai is enjoying himself.

And that's not just a Wan thing. He says along those lines to Kyouka in one of my all-time favourite BSD scenes in general.

It just. I just have a lot of feelings about that. This is a guy who, we know from Heartless Cur and the beginning of Beast, has very little in the way of emotion - but when he does feel, it's rather all-encompassing, even overwhelmingly strong. Things like rage and desperation. It's raw survival instinct.

But then he has. This too.

Here's the thing. In the preschool chapter, silly as it is, Dazai is still fixated on suicide. He has the noose, just doesn't speak about it openly. So, it's probably quite rare that Dazai shows genuine enjoyment the way he did here - and that's worth that small smile.

In the main universe, Akutagawa remembers how Kyouka hated herself to the point of asking to be killed, then sees how fierce she is about defending her new life and self, and decides that he's glad for her.

It really means something to me that one of the very few relational emotions he allows himself to feel is happiness and pride on others' behalf.

It roots itself less in compassion or happiness itself and more in a sense of respect... but remember that Akutagawa hardly gives his respect easily. He gives his respect only to those he considers strong, and in nearly every battle, he finds himself disappointed. What he wants is kind of contradictory - he wants a worthy opponent, so someone who poses a strong challenge to him to prove his own worth as one who will never be weak again... and yet, when they lose against him, he's often disappointed they did not succeed or fight harder, and looks down on them.

Atsushi's motive, or what he initially thinks his motive is, is disappointing to him at first - Akutagawa believes he is trying to prove himself as worthy of living through someone else's acceptance and berates him for it. But that's... exactly what he has been doing. Later on, he continues to question Atsushi for his motives, in yet another of one of my favourite scenes.

He asks him over and over - "why?" And is not satisfied until Atsushi reveals that he's also looking to get rid of the shadow of the orphanage director that follows him like a haunting - that trauma? All that pain thrown in his face? He is fighting to overcome it. He is fighting via proof and change because Atsushi wants to live, and to not have to feel ashamed of that. And that's what it took for Akutagawa to trust him and respect him enough to transfer Rashoumon to him.

I think, on some level, Akutagawa is invested in seeing whether Atsushi will succeed in this. And I think, in spite of everything between them, he will be glad for him if he does.

I just really love this aspect to his character, because while he searches for strength in violence and power and physical skill, it means on a deeper level, he actually sees joy and resistance in the face of despair as true strength that's worth acknowledging.

I want him so badly to accept that as true strength within himself in the main timeline.

I also love it because Beast confirms that Akutagawa would do anything for his sister and I am now free to imagine Gin telling her brother all the things she was learning and how she was slowly connecting to the Black Lizard and feeling overwhelming pride for her but not really expressing that but Gin knowing that's how he felt regardless, anyways that is all

Is this even coherent anymore? Oh well.

[swe3troses]

🐚10 Things I Hate About You (pt.1) Jack Hughes X Reader

 ‘I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.’

 Luke Hughes was over the moon. He was finally gonna get to play high school hockey like his mother always wanted him to. Of course, he didn’t mind that his older brothers were also on the team, and he was most likely going to be called the ‘littlest’ Hughes. He made his way to the castle like high school, meeting up with his oldest brother, Quinn Hughes, so he could get a tour of the huge high school.  

“Hey! What’s up Luke.” he heard his brother say casually as he walked towards him.

“Hey Quinn…what are you wearing?” Luke said, looking at his brother. His brother was wearing a white and blue button up t-shirt that was obviously way too big for him and some khaki jorts.

“What are you talking about, this is some top tier styling.” Quinn said while posing a bit. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Just give me the tour.” he said with a little sass looking at his brother.

“Ok well, here are your emo pixie manic dream girls…don’t act too much like Micheal Cera around them.” Quinn said gesturing to a group of girls that were all either singing or reading some obscure book that they obviously found while thrifting.

“Then we have your Stoner’s and mathletes, they all hang around each other, please don’t ask me why.” Quinn says gesturing to a group in a big ball of smoke and some kids solving a math problem on a whiteboard. Luke raised his eyebrow. What the hell was going on at this school.

“Then those are your popular people and elitists…don’t bother talking to them.”

“Why?”

“Hey!” Quinn says to the group, they all stare at him with weird looks and one of them says ‘bite me.’

“Ok, now I see why.” They continue walking as Quinn points out groups to his little brother. But soon his voice falls on deaf ears as Luke watches a girl pass by. The girl had long black hair and sharp siren-like eyes. She was wearing a floral sundress and white chunky sandals. She had gold hoops in and freckles that spread perfectly across her face. She had pink plump lips and a smile so white it blinded him. She was tiny, standing at around 5′0, the only big thing about her being her boobs. She and her blonde friend were talking about something.

“Jesus, who is that?” Luke questions wiping his chin as he looks at the girl who was about a foot shorter than him. 

Quinn laughs obnoxiously, “Luke, do not even think about that at all. That there, my friend is Bianca L/N and she is untouchable and totally conceited.” 

“Hey, don’t say that, look at her, I mean she’s gorgeous.” Luke said as the girl smiled showing her dimples. 

“Listen, Luke, Girls like that, will never look at you, she’s wearing that strategically planned sundress to let guys like us know that we will never touch her and boys like Trevor Zegras realize they want her.” He gestured towards another hockey player that was on their team named Trevor Zegras who was also staring at Bianca.

“Don’t say that look, she is just so deep.” Luke said gazing at the girl trying to listen in on what she was saying. 

“See, there’s a difference between like and love, because I like my Miss Dior perfume, but I love my Prada backpack.” 

“But I love my Miss Dior.” Her blonde friend replied.

“That’s because you don’t have a Prada backpack.”

“I need her…how can I get close to her.” Luke asked his older brother.

“I mean, I heard she’s looking for a French tutor if you somehow learned French and have time for it in-between hockey.”

“That’s perfect!”

“So you learned French and have time?”

“No! But I will!”

While that was going on a girl by the name of Y/N L/N was in her literature class, Jack Hughes came into the class for a moment and started speaking. 

“Has class started?”

“No, but please take your-”

“Ok! Later!” Jack said before walking out the class.

“Hey you can’t just-!” The teacher said before quickly giving up, obviously tired of his job.

The bell rang and then the teacher, Mr. Morgan, started speaking.

“So, what did everyone think of ‘The sun also rises?’”

A pink short haired girl raised her hand and instantly started speaking without the teacher even calling on her.

“I loved it, it was so romantic.” she said dreamily, clasping her hands together.

“Romantic? Hemingway?” Y/N said scoffing “He was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who spent half his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” She finished rolling her (e/c) eyes.

“As opposed to a bitter self-righteous hag who has no friends.” Trevor replies looking around the class with a smug smirk.

“Pipe down chachi!” Mr. Morgan yelled, causing Trevor’s ego to deflate.

“I guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.” Y/N replies, turning her body towards Trevor as the class laughs. “What about Sylvia Plath, or literally any other female writer that doesn't have a negative connotation associated with them.” Y/N said putting some of her h/l h/c hair behind her ear.

“Mr. Morgan, is there any way we could get Y/N to take her Midol before she comes to class.” Trevor says with a smug look.

“Someday you’re gonna get bitch slapped and I am not gonna do anything to stop it.” Mr. Morgan replies with a smug look back “Y/N I want to thank you for your point of view, I know how difficult it must be to overcome all those years of upper middle-class oppression, must be tough, but before you start talking about that think about why they can’t buy a book written by a Black Man!” Mr. Morgan says looking at her.

“That’s right man!” two white boys say.

“Don’t even get me started on you two…” Mr. Morgan says as the two boys put their fists down.

“Anything else?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah, go to the office you’re pissing me off again.”

“Mr. Morgan-?” 

“Later!” He says dramatically before Y/N grabs her books walking out.

Y/N walked with her friend as she explained what happened walking to her car.

“Well then Mrs. Meyer reminded me that I kicked Trevor in the balls, and I still maintain he kicked himself in the balls.” she said casually as her friend Nayeon laughed.

“I don’t think that is exactly what happened.” Nayeon said as she got in Y/N’s car pulling her red skirt down a bit.

Quinn drove in front of Y/N’s red car on a motorcycle. Knowing her and her temper she looked at the hockey player in disgust.

“Get out the way Bozo!” she shouted speeding away before seeing her sister, Bianca.

“I know you can be overwhelmed, and underwhelmed but can you just be whelmed?” Bianca asked her blonde friend Chastity.

“I think you can in Europe!” Chastity replies before Trevor pulls up in his bronco.

“You hot young thangs need a ride?” he asked, smirking before Bianca and Chastity giggled getting in the back of his Bronco before he sped away.

“That is one shocking new development.” Nayeon stated in disgust.

“I am not surprised,” Y/N said before honking her red car once again, but this time at Luke. 

“Jesus! Get out of the way!” she said before speeding away blasting Indie rock music.

“Who was that?” Luke asked, obviously a little annoyed.

“That my dear brother is the shrew, Y/N L/N, your girlfriend's sister.” Quinn said trying not to laugh at his brother’s reaction.

“That mean, pretty girl is Bianca’s sister?” Luke asked in shock.

Later, Y/N was reading ‘The Bell Jar’ while sitting in a green chair. She was in some gray PJ pants and a blank tank top. Her dad came up to her flipping through a newspaper.

“Make anyone cry today Y/N?” Her dad asked her looking at a story in the newspaper.

 “Sadly, No, but it is only 4:30.” She said, smiling at her father. He returned the smile before Bianca came into the room.

“Hi dad!” she said, kissing him on the cheek, having to go on her tiptoes to do so.

“Why hello precious.” her dad said back smiling at his daughter.

“Where have you been?” Y/N asked, tucking some of her h/l h/c behind her ear.

“Nowhere.” Bianca replied sassily, flipping some of her long black hair over her shoulder a pink tint painting her freckled face.

Y/N’s dad picked up some mail before looking at it confused.

“What’s this, it says Sarah Lawrence?” her dad said looking at the letter before Y/N squealed and jumped happily taking the letter in her hands smiling “I got in!” she said, running to another couch.

“Honey…that is great but isn’t Sarah Lawrence a Law firm on the other side of the country?” Her dad asked, “Don’t you wanna stay here to find a college closer to home…so you could fully become a husky like me.” her dad said, faking a growl.

“Sarah Lawrence is one of the best colleges and the basis of its appeal is being far away from Michigan.” the girl says, still smiling at the paper.

“C’mon Y/N are you just gonna pick up and leave, is that it?” he says a little frustrated now.

“Let’s hope so!” Bianca said smiling.

“Tell dad who drove you home today.” Y/N replied.

“Who drove you home?”

“Now don’t overreact dad but this guy named Trevor on the hockey team-”

“Who’s a flaming imbecile!” Y/N added as Bianca tried to step closer to her.

“And I think he might ask me-”

“Please, Please I think I know what he is going to ask you,” Bianca’s dad said as she guided her to the couch next to Y/N

“I also think I know the answer, No! It is always No! What are the two-house rules? Number 1, No dating till you graduate college, Number 2, No dating till you graduate high school, That’s it.”

“Daddy, that is so unfair!” Bianca said, folding her arms over her chest.

“You wanna know what is unfair? This morning I delivered a set of twins to a 15- year-old girl, younger than both of you, do you know what she said to me?” Y/N’s dad said as he looked between both of his daughters.

“I am a dumbass who should’ve made my sleazy boyfriend wear a condom?” Bianca replied, rolling her brown eyes.

Their dad pursed his lips before speaking again “Close, but no, she said I should’ve listened to my father.”

“She did not!” Bianca replied as Y/N rolled her e/c eyes at her father.

“But that is what she would’ve said if she wasn’t on so much anesthesia.” he replies.

“Can we focus on me for a second! I am the only girl in school who doesn't date!” Bianca states dramatically, twiddling her fingers.

“Oh no you’re not, your sister doesn’t date.”

“I also don’t intend to, have you seen the unwashed monsters that attend and roam that school spreading their stink around?” Y/N said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

“What planet are you from? Planet loser?” Bianca said about to tackle her sister. 

“As opposed to Planet ‘Look at mey, look at mey’” Y/N replied, flapping her s/c arms around as she mocked Bianca’s voice.

Their dad claps, causing both of the gorgeous girls to look at him one with a pout and one with a smirk.

“Ok new rule out new rule in, Bianca can date.” Their dad says smiling as Y/N looks at him like he's crazy and Bianca smiles smugly sticking her tongue out at her sister.

“When Y/N does.”

A/N: hey guys sorry this wasn’t so focused on Y/n(you) and Jack just yet, I am trying to establish the plot first, the next chapter will be more romantic and focus more on y/n. there will be 10 parts because, 10 things I hate about you, and they will be released between 2-4 days, thank you for supporting and reading. Also here is a key.

Y/n-Your name

L/n-Last name

e/c-Eye color

h/l-Hair length

h/c-Hair color

s/c-Skin color

[galaxyedging]

Firefighter x f!reader

Not a RPF, just a fic inspired by this look.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: None, really. Some thirty thoughts and just fluff.

Summary: A charity calendar brings you closer to the brown eyed firefighter you have a crush on.

Holding Onto a Hero

The calendar seemed like such a great idea. What better way to raise money for your community's photography club by showing off the photography skills that you had picked up at a similar club?

The community centre was located right next door to a fire station, so it was a logical choice to ask them to be the subject of it. They way the local mom's slowed down on the school run, hoping to catch a peek at the in shape firefighters, you knew you'd shift at least a few copies. Plus, you were going to sell them online. Everyone loves a hot hero just as much as they love a bad boy. That was the theme of the shoot ‘good guys gone bad’. Each guy would have a rough and ready look. Tight jeans, leather jackets. Everyone you spoke to agreed that you were on to a winner.

There was only one problem. Him. The brown eyed firefighter that haunted your dreams. The first time you met him, you literally walked right into him. The stack of boxes you carried obscured your view. You only realised that you'd hit a person, not a wall, when a large warm hand landed on your lower back. The heat of it burned through your thin t-shirt. It disappeared to take the boxes from your gasp. With the boxes out of the way, you were met with the deepest brown eyes you'd ever seen. An apology shone in them. The large hand that you could still feel at the small of your back came up to remove an earbud

“Are you okay? I'm sorry. I was distracted. My book was just getting so good.” He gestured to his earbud. 

“I'm fine. It's my bad. I couldn't see over the boxes.” Somehow, you managed to talk as your throat drier up at how handsome he was. 

The t-shirt he wore clung to every curve of his muscles. The shorts showed off a fine pair of legs. His face looked like it belonged in a movie, not on the sidewalk outside a run-down community centre. 

“Do you need a hand with them?” His voice was deep and smooth.

“No, I'm good, thank you.” Your repressed upbringing spoke for you. 

You never were good at asking for help. Looking at the way his thick hair started to curl at the edges where sweat began to pool, you wished you had said yes.

“Well, sorry again. Welcome to the neighbourhood.” With that, he was off. Leaving you to stare as his broad foam retreating. 

After that, you didn't speak to him again until you arranged the shoot. Yet you saw him most days. The tiny apartment you had over the centre gave you a perfect view. Most mornings, he jogged, followed by some body weight exercises with his teammates. The way he did a push-up kept him in your thoughts most days. When he wasn't working, you often saw him reading or tending to the small garden they had. His hands working deftly to harvest from the raised vegetable patch or to plant new flowers. His touch was so gentle as he cared for the delicate seedlings.

One of your favourites was when children stopped by. He was so good with them, chatting with them animatedly, always so patient with them, you wondered if he had children of his own. It was doubtful since he seemed to spend all his time at the firehouse. He must have been pretty important there. The way they jumped to it when he barked out orders gave you all sorts of thoughts. It was fair to say you'd developed quite a crush on him.

Said crush was now eyeing you nervously.

“I'm sure. It will look great!” You try to pour as much optimism into your voice as possible to put him at ease.

You could still see how nervous he was even though you'd been over the plan. When everyone was picking their poses, the others had no problem with doing something sexy. Some posed shirtless. Others carried heavy things to show off their hard earned muscles. One guy posed with his intimidating looking dogs who fit the theme perfectly. Until you stroked their tummies, and they became the softest dogs in the world.

“Trust me” you continue “You're so good with them. Some women find men who are good with children very sexy.” It comes out of nowhere, and thankfully, the children arriving cuts off any response as you add. “I know I do.”

The children all get ready to play in the water as you lift up your camera to take the first couple of photos of just him opening the hydrant. The children squeal in anticipation when the water begins to flow. A smile tugs at the side of his perfect lips as he watches their joy. It makes for a gorgeous shot. The children play happily and he joins in. Using those strong hands to block and redirect the flow of the water to spray them. They splash him back, wetting his short hair, and his natural curls make an appearance. Water drips down his face, running over that strong nose and pout, highlighting them beautifully. You take another shot of that. Finally, and all too quickly for you, it's time to shut off the water and send the children home. 

“Thank you. I have some really great shots. Obviously, you'll have final approval. You were my last shoot, so I'll be in touch in a couple of days.” There's an awkward energy in the air as you prepare to part ways. 

“Thank you. This wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was actually really fun.” His genuine smile makes you want to be the reason he smiles every day.

“Well, I better…damn it.” In your haste to break the spell he has over you, you step off the sidewalk right into the water soaking your canvas shoes right through. Stepping back onto the sidewalk, you can feel the water gathering around your toes.

“May I…?” He asks, and you have no clue what he is asking, but who are you to argue with those brown eyes. 

Giving a nod, you suddenly find yourself swept up into his arms as he carries you bridal style across the street. 

Still in his arms you smile. “You know I just could have walked around.”

The smile he returns is warm and mischievous. “I know.”

Conscious of his strong arms still around you, you ask “Do you plan on putting me down?” 

The corners of his eyes crinkle adorably as he grins. “When we get there.”

“Get where?” You laugh.

“China Gardens. I see you order from there a lot.” Your heart races at the thought of him noticing you.

“You noticed that?” You turn to hide your smile.

“Yep. Along with you helping the old lady across the street with her groceries. We've asked for years, and she won't let us help. You must be special.” He eyes lock with yours to show the sincerity behind his teasing words.

“I feel it now, being carried by our community's most eligible firefighter.” You lay a hand on his leather clad chest flirtatiously.

“Stop.” His humbleness from earlier flares up.

“It's true. You must see the way the mom's look at you.” There's no way in your mind that he doesn't know how handsome he is.

“Well there's only one woman I've been looking at.” His face is closer to yours than it's ever been.

Closing the minute gap between you, your lips meet in a chaste first kiss. The kiss blooms into a smile on both of your faces.

“So are you going to put me down?” You giggle.

“No. I think I'll keep hold of you for as long as I can. If that's okay with you?” His biceps flex against you as he gathers you closer.

Your arms now loop around his kissable neck. “That's okay with me.”

[smilingangel582]

The early of Phantomhive is finally going to school! Black butler Public School Arc is really amazing!

I mean... I need a lee!ciel so I decided to write one for him after a long time!

Warning spoilers for black butler season 4

Bocchan's remedy

For the millionth time. Clayton asks Ciel to prepare tea and cakes. Indeed, traditions are a boor!

The young Earl is meant to be working on his desk... not doing butler duties for a nobody. Aghast and aggravated, Ciel would complain about this to Sebastian every now and then. Even in different contexts, Sebastian still is the house master... a handy position.

Sebastian would let an amused chuckle as he placed his young master's tea, "Bocchan, you'll get wrinkles if you Frown so much"

Clenching his fist, Ciel barks. "Oh? You're enjoying yourself, aren't you, you mutt!"

Sebastian teasingly eyes the young boy with alluring demonic mischief "now now, Bocchan, did you forget why you are here? Indeed, it is wise if you at least do more of those poses and sweet gestures that are such a rarity"

Ciel's eyebrow twitched "As if! Never again! I feel more humiliated copying Macmilliam's pose, honestly seniors..."

"Perhaps..." Now steering behind Ciel's chair carefully, "We could perform the usual exercise...?"

Frown, Ciel didn't look back at Sebastian as he finished his tea with pompous ease, "Exercise? What are u blabbering about... we did no such thing..."

"You don't recollect young master?"

Feeling Sebastian loom over behind him, Ciel got conscious and decided to turn back but Sebastian had already snared the Web and began to prod his sides gently.

"O-oi! What is this?" Ciel looks devastated. Eventually recalling the terrible 'exercise' the latter mentioned.

"Now, phantomhive-kun... lighten up because as the house master I should try my best to cheer you up" Sebastian properly cornered him over the chair, now tickling Ciel's tender ribs with light and nimble touches.

Ciel resists and squirms, "D-dont t-touch your m-master so cahahasually -no!"

A giggle slipped, one after the other like an overflowing glass of water. Sebastian should like to stop when ordered, but... Sebastian needs a proper one to be completely stopped. He won't let Ciel speak a word... until he begs for mercy for once.

Ciel's cheeks flushed red, now slowly sinking down from the chair. Sebastian swiftly pulls him into his arms, knowing its unacceptable to have his little lord dirty on the floor.

"Hah! S-Sebas! Oi! Hahaha, cut ihihit out!"

Ushering in a softer tone, Sebastian hits a particular sensitive spot to make the earl double over with uncontrollable giggles, "Young master whatever did you say? Your giggles are becoming quote contagious..."

"No! Hahaha p-pl-" instantly ciel cuts himself. Sebastian widened his large crimson orbs, "Oh? Bocchan? Did I hear it right?"

Blushing furiously, Ciel opened his mouth to yell but only more shrieks of sweet rare laughter left from his mouth, "Ahahahaha unhahahand! Hahaha cohohome ohohon!"

Sebastian knew the right spots to stop ciel from ordering Sebastian. This lesson will do for now... just one last spot...

"Noo! Not there!" Ciel clamped a hand to his lips to stop his embarrassingly adorable shrill, Sebastian snicker softly, trying sneak his fingers up his ribs, "My, my sensitive armpits? Bochchan, you've gotten more sensitive... oh, I mean Phantomhive-kun!"

"Dohohoho not address hehehe mehehe lihihihike thahahat whehehen we ahahare aloooone!" In the end, he didn't sound threatening and realise he should've saved up that line for an order. Honestly! Ciel is gonna severely punish this butler!

Eventually, Sebastian stopped. Grinning in an inhuman way, "Now phantomhive-kun," he pressed a finger to his lips, eyeing the exit door where another knock came.

Ciel grumbled with tired giggles, "Y-you bahastard! Ugh!"

Feeling helpless, Ciel straightened to a less-flustered look, despite still having reddish cheeks, "T-thank you, sensei..."

The next boy enters with a gleaming smile. Ciel gave him one dirty look to show his dissatisfaction of teaching ways, though Sebastian gives a mere mocking smile, pretending to be innocent.

Closing the door behind him, Ciel groaned, "That demon! Has everyone fooled but me!"

[jordanraye47]

Izzy headcanons that aren’t an entire fic🔥

Answers scam callers the best way possible “hi welcome to Pete’s roadkill pizzeria where yesterdays loss is todays sauce, how may o help you?” Like that’s her duty

Considering she’s a literal famous actor, she probably has a social media accounts, and even though she rarely posts, when she does, she’s on the damn edge of being canceled.

^ “damn getting arrested for no reason🔥 guess orangre really is the new black”

Speaking of spelling mistakes (no I don’t know how to spell organge), she has dyslexia.

She’s not th favourite kid we could all tell.

Regardless of how much she smiles normally, she can not for the life of her smile for pictures. So 90% of the time her pictures looks like an alien that hasn’t quite figured out where they are, or just a thumbs up.

Thst or that stupid Lin manuela (I think that’s his name) pose.

Speaks crazy many languages, including ASL

She has very good curls, just doesn’t care to take manage them (yes this is me being desperate for representation of girls with curly hair that doesn’t know how to mangene them)

That and the reason she wears the bathing cap is because chlorine FUCKS UP curly hair oh my gosh soaking from experience 🙏

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Scarlett is her older sister.

dicorced nightgown porch cigarette mom and Texan truck motel dad that doesn’t give a shit what their kids do.

Always slightly thrown off when someone is nice to her bushes so used to Noah and Eva’s “mean love” or whatever you call it.

This girl did NOT have friends in school she BIT the other students

Favorite subject is art and sience (I have dyslexia you stuf don’t correct me)

So smart and also so stupid ^ “so what’s the square root of 589 iz?” “24.269.” “ok so do you think Pluto should be considered a planet?” “No of course not he’s a dog. Did you not watch Mickey Mouse”

“Parents got confused and chose daughter on anti-psychotics”

deadass i think her pshycosis is a genuine problem to her but it’s so easy to take it as a joke so she just goes along. (Read “artificial lawns” on AO3 by necrosys its very well explained there)

Has THE most vile t-shirts ever and she wears them in public with a pair of long ads jorts like she’d Adam sandler

Like these <33 - she lives on a farm it’s true she told me

She’s actually pretty funny she just can’t tell a joke without laughing at it herself

She is banned from the kitchen in every kitchen in the world

Izzy Cody and Duncan would be such a fucked up trio I’d love them

I got this from @kijosakka but she’s a really good braided us give her like 20 minutes.

Still has all her baby teeth in a jar

I wanna write some angsty ones so bad but I’m not putting you guys through all that.

I truly believe that Heather and Izzy used to be so good friends but after Heather got a teste of sweet popularity she didn’t hesitate to leave Izzy behind.

She has a secret room in her room

Snacks on yogurt and frozen fruit

She’s covered in freckles so badly like it’s top to toe

Can raise one eyebrow

her mother or herself are the only ones that cut her hair

^ and she has probably never been to a proper hairdresser

That’s all i have for today don’t forget to like and subscribe if you want morir epic content 🔥🔥

[nyaightlight]

Prongsfoot Week 2024

Day 7 - Write/Draw/anything for this ship

Rated T, 846 words

James is in search of a spouse, and the perfect candidate has just arrived

Fic under the cut, or you can read on AO3

James would rather he not be here, in Malfoy Manor, on display as a prospective match for some sorry sod who hadn’t bagged a marriage yet.

The only things buffering him from an onslaught of slimy suitors were his friends, posing as his menservants. Remus, who was only of average height and terribly lanky, and Peter, who was the equivalent size of a mouse, were hardly bodyguard material, but James had to make do with what he had.

“Can’t you just speak to one? At least?” Remus had grown increasingly pale over the night, but James can’t fathom why. He’s not the one under scrutiny or under the pressure of a forced match.

James’ parents would never sell him off, but they were starting to threaten him with blind dates. To, as they said, ‘expand his horizons.’

James would rather his horizon stay exactly where it is, thank you very much, but he knew his parents meant well. And if he didn’t make a name for himself soon, high society would be only too eager to judge the Potters even more harshly.

Still, that didn’t mean he was going to roll over and accept the first offer thrown his way.

“No. Now both of you stay close to me. I’m trying to make it through the night without any weirdos talking to me.”

Remus makes a noise James would compare to that of a dying whale, but he doesn’t offer a rebuttal, so it’s James’ win.

They stick to their corner of the room for a good amount of time, until Mulciber, who’d been eyeing James since he arrived, finally gets off his ass and looks like he’ll start heading over.

James doesn’t want to talk to the guy, and starts looking for something to use if he needs to beat him back, when the main entrance swings open, and everyone in the room goes silent.

A man strides in, handsome and wearing the most expensive suit James is sure he’s ever seen. His eyes survey the room, and James swears they’ve landed on him when he says, “Don’t stop on my account, now.”

The Lord and Lady of the house flitter over to the new arrival’s side, and though conversation resumes, it’s plain to see that everyone keeps glancing their way.

“Who is that?”

“How should we know?” Peter scoffs. “You’re our source of gossip.”

“You also have other things to worry about,” Remus tilts his head towards James’ other side, and James follows the motion.

Mulicber is walking their way.

Fuck.

“Potter,” the man calls out. James cringes.

Before Mulciber can get too close, broad shoulders block James’ view.

“Thank you for providing me with a name,” the mystery guest nods at Mulciber.

Up close he’s even more beautiful than James had thought. His eyes are a bright silver, and dark hair falls in artful waves down to just above his shoulders, past a jawline that could cut glass.

“Potter?” he turns his shimmering eyes to James, and then moves into a deep bow. “I’m Sirius Black. It’s lovely to meet you.”

James bows in return. “James Potter, sir. Likewise.”

Once he’s upright again, James watches as Mulciber spins on his heel and sulks off to a different group of guests. Thank the heavens.

James is feeling quite bold when he says, “You’ve saved me, sir. That cow Mulciber has been trying to entice me all night by winking every other second. Pity for him, but it only made him look like he had a bad twitch.”

Sirius laughs. “Oh, dear. Like this?”

The way Sirius winks is nothing at all like Mulciber’s. It’s flawless, and paired with the debonair grin that hasn’t left Sirius’ lips once, it sends butterflies aflight in James’ stomach (and decidedly lower as well).

“You put Mulciber to shame, sir.”

Sirius’ canines glint in the chandelier light. “I should hope so.”

James hears Peter start choking on something behind him, which reminds him that his friends are still with him.

“Ah,” James twirls around and waves a hand to catch their attention. As soon as Remus is finished whacking Peter on the back, James tells them, “You both may continue enjoying the hors d'oeuvres. Mister Black is keeping me plenty of company.”

“Bu-” Remus starts.

James turns back to Sirius. “Would you like to fill up my dance card, sir?”

Sirius offers his arm immediately. “I’d be delighted to.”

James’ feet will be sore tomorrow, but it’s all worth it.

He and Sirius danced until even the musicians had to leave, and now they’re alone in the foyer.

They are alone, so nobody sees this. Nobody sees Sirius Black open James Potter’s mouth with a kiss, and press a goodbye against his tongue.

This moment is just for them, and James is giddy at the thought. He’ll think of this night until he can see Sirius again, and even then he’ll remember it. This is only the beginning of their story, after all. James wants wedding bells in their future.

(He doesn’t know this, but Sirius wants them too.)