#bc my nail isnt digging into my palm

[phantom-does-a-thing]

bruh the problem is having long nails and when my nails break I have a hard time writing </3

[artstatues]

Tahiti? - a.k.g × j.w.h

wc : 622

pairings : avery grambs x jameson hawthorne, from the inheritance games.

synopis : avery has been reading hate comments, way too much lately and letting it get to her heart. constantly comparing herself to jameson's exes, where to one day, it leads to a fight with jameson.

a/n : this is long and angsty asf but its basically js back and forth and back and forth and im being lazy so im like combining 2 things together that is: the arguing req that anon @lxvebelle ( also sorry that it isnt their first fight ) and the anon req on my page for angsty averyjameson. this was 80% inspired by @x-liv25-jamieswife. this is like somewhere in the early stages but not so early that jamie already created tahiti bc theyve fought before. and and i havent read tig in awhile and im sorry if i mischaracterized them 😭 but enjoy nonetheless <3

requested tag : @pockyyasii

It was late at night when Jameson decided to check on Avery. “Heiress, you alright?” Jameson walked in the room while Avery stared at her phone, sitting on their bed. He closed the door behind him. Her eyes scanned the screen, making it seem like she was reading. It’s been a minute, or over, and she still hasn’t replied, or even acknowledged Jamie’s presence. “Avery? Are you okay?” Jamie repeated, louder. “Do you think I deserve you?” Avery finally looked up from the phone. “Yes, of course, if anything, I don’t deserve you, Avery.” Jameson stepped closer to the bed before eventually sitting on it. “Avery, look at me, I’m serious.” Jameson looked at her before tilting her chin up, forcing her to tear her gaze from the phone. “Yeah, I’m- I’m alright, don’t worry.” She stammered, yet a smile was still plastered on her gorgeous face. “You’re hiding something, yeah?” Jamie raised an eyebrow. “No, never,” That pretty smile was still on her face, even if her eyes didn’t meet Jameson’s since he tilted her chin up. “Heiress, please? I don’t want to argue about keeping things from each other again.” Jameson’s gaze softened. “I didn’t say we should argue.” Avery whispered, gaze still on the bedsheets. Jameson didn’t say anything. Her tone was bitter, but also soft. He could tell she didn’t want to argue. “What are you reading?” Jameson took a glance at her screen, but from the angle he was looking at, it was pure black. “Did you change your screen protector?” Jameson asked. He felt like he was nagging Avery but he’d do everything to make sure they didn’t have to fight, again. “Yea.” She replied, her tone with a hint of being annoyed. “Heiress, please, let me see?” Jameson was begging now. Rarely would he beg. “I’m reading comments! Okay? Comments from articles, videos, anything, everything!” Her voice raised. Jameson only stared at her. “Avery.” He warned her. “No-! Don’t warn me, Jameson. I’m not hiding anything, okay? I told you, I’m reading comments.” Avery snapped, harsher, causing her to get up from the bed, phone in her iron grip, the other hand in a fist. And Jameson knows that her nails are digging into her palm. He knows too damn well. During arguments like these, Jameson tried his fucking hardest to be the bigger person and try to resolve it, but he didn’t think it was going to work tonight. “So many people think I don’t deserve you! That I’m ugly- and compared to your exes, I think I agree.” Avery half yelled, tears forming in her eyes. “Don’t say that. I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen, Avery, really. I don’t think, I know.” Jameson tried to explain, trying to keep a steady tone. “No- you, don’t say that! You’re trying to please me and get this over with.” Avery was yelling now. “Your exes were all prettier than me Jameson. You don’t get it!” Avery yelled. They were making full eye contact now. He took her gaze for granted on the bed but screw that. “I don’t get it, really, you’re right. I don’t, but I think you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, let alone be mine.” Jameson’s voice got louder without intention. “Do you think the same?” Avery whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. “No. Never.” Jameson choked out, eyes still on Avery. A tear rolled on Avery’s cheek. Jameson strode to her too fast, hands already on her. “Hey, hey, tahiti? Shh, don’t cry, please don’t” His thumb quickly wiped the tear as he hugged her, hugged her so tight that he could’ve stayed like that forever. “I love you, Heiress. You and you only.”

[fangswbenefits]

Inexperienced!Miguel? Oh goodness... my quack is quaking. (I have too many inappropriate duck jokes-)

Miguel knows he has a breeding kink, and hes reminded it of it everytime youre around Mayday, but hes just scared to say anything. He doesn't want to scare you off, and how could he, so inexperienced, demand you of such things?

It isnt until you have him whining and gasping, right on the brick or pleasure and tears when he starts pleading. Large hands holding your hips tentatively as you ride him, nails digging in just slightly from the amount of bliss you're nearly overstimulating him with. And he's so close, just right there,

"Please, please, let me breed you, please," He sobs, practically begging, tears running down his face, his thrust stuttering. You slow to a stop. Staring down at him, absolutely bewildered.

Immediately his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he realizes what he's just blurted out. Tears keep falling bc hes just so embarrassed, stuttering and spewing apologies and excuses. A gentle hand to his throat shuts him up real fast, and he shutters his eyes shut, preparing for some punishment. Expecting you to call him names for terrible such thinking.

"You wanna pump a baby in me, pretty boy?" You coo, and his eyes snap open. "C'mon, then, fill me up."

Miguel is sent seeing stars as you ride him with such intensity, your legs are burning. His head is thrown back, loud, almost lion like groans are falling from his lips. Your little 'thats it, baby,' and other encouragements are going straight to his dick. His feet are planted on the bed so he can thrust up into you harder and faster, crying out sayings you don't fully understand but can't wait to hear more of.

He cums in no time. You'll have to train him to hold it til you cum together, but you finish yourself off for now. After all, he's been such a good boy. And his little high pitched cries as you pulse around him, walls clenching as you reach your high are very worth it.

He won't leave your warmth, so aftercare is a bit awkward as you can't do much. He's just so clingy after spending everything he had in him, he doesn't want to let you go. Poor boy needs to bury himself in your heat and in your chest, arms tight around your waist as he keeps you impossibly close. His breathing hot and heavy as he gulps and swallows at each little flutter your cunt teases him with.

And though he's extremely exhausted, he really hasn't done this enough, but he slides a hand down to your tummy. His warm palm resting on your soft skin. He cannot wait to see you so round and full of him. It sends the blood right back down and suddenly you're pinned under one very flustered face Miguel.

His blush goes deep down his chest, eyes still in post-ogasmic haze, and he smiles lopsidedly.

" 'M gon' get you s'full," His words are slurred as he rests on his forearms. So he can be closer to you as he tries his very best to fuck into you from this position. Trying to remember how you taught hin the first time he had you pinned on the bed, your legs wrapped around his thin waist. "You're gon... be s'full." He pants, swallowing a whine as he keeps going, earning a low groan from you.

Miguel can't tell what's better; That you're letting him breed you, or that you seem to be craving him just as much as he craves you.

-🦆🦆

“"Please, please, let me breed you, please," He sobs, practically begging, tears running down his face, his thrust stuttering. You slow to a stop. Staring down at him, absolutely bewildered.”

[adorethedistance]

Chapter 7: Boyfriend? - JJ Maybank x Reader

Photo cred: I made the aesthetic but if you own any of these images I will take them down per your request.

Warnings: swearing (a recurring theme), mentions bombs, use of the word psycho, if I missed anything potentially triggering PLEASE let me know.

Words: 2007

Previously in part 6: You and JJ tried to settle in for a goodnight’s rest, but you’re both too restless for sleep. Instead, you both decide stargazing is a nice way to spend the evening. Just a peaceful night of arguing about how and when you first met. The usual. JJ is such an amazing friend, that’s what that feeling is, right? The warm butterflies in your stomach. Your admiration for your best friend is cut short when the “green goblin” tries to fucking blow you up.

A/n:  I’M SORRY THE HAND HEART ISNT INCLUSIVE BC OF THE GIRL’S SKIN TONE BUT THE BOY HAS JJ VIBES AND THAT’S WHY I PUT IT I’M SORRY TO ANYONE WHO HAS A DIFFERENT SKIN TONE AND DOESN’T FEEL REPRESENTED.

Hoisting myself over the ledge of the rooftop, JJ is quick to recover from nailing the bomb back in the psychos direction and is right behind me. The cold of the metal railing is no longer a shock. Instead, it burns underneath my palms, scorching my nerves as a result of my panic.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”

“Hurry!” JJ ushers me back through my half open window before frantically diving in after me. Who would’ve thought we were peacefully enjoying each other’s company not just 10 minutes ago, and now we’re being hunted by some loon in a goblin furry suit? And are goblins even furries?

The SLAM of the window draws me from my panicked stupor and I can see the fear radiating off of JJ. I struggle to my feet to face his anxious figure, yanking the curtains shut behind us. He has to do this every week? I mean he’s just a kid.

“Who the fuck was that?!”

“His name is Green Goblin. He’s the guy that made me look like this,” JJ gestures to his busted appearance.

“Did he follow you here? How does he know your name?” “I don’t know I-”

JJ’s pacing comes to a screeching halt. His hands are tangled into his knotted hair, his breathing is sharp and unstable; his eyes are wide under his furrowed brows as they flick from my freshly vacuumed carpet to my own widened eyes. JJ then dashes out of my bedroom, which leads me to follow closely behind in confusion.

From around the corner, I hear JJ’s labored breathing from inside the bathroom. Once I’m standing in the doorway, I can clearly see JJ is practically turning the room upside down. He has clumsily knocked the leftover first aid supplies off the counter, and into the sink. The trashcan is on its side and it looks as if a raccoon had gotten into my bathroom. Toilet paper and flossers are flying as JJ frantically digs through the trash.

“What the hell are you doing?”

JJ doesn’t answer. Instead, he pointedly extends his arm toward my face. I had to take a step backwards to get my eyes to register what he’s trying to show me. Pinched between his thumb and index fingers is the tiny piece of shrapnel I removed from his body not that long ago.

JJ wordlessly places the chunk of metal on the lip of the sink, and balls his hand into a fist. Then, he lifts the fisted hand above his head and swings it down to smash the chip into a million tiny pieces. Apparently, JJ still isn’t used to his super strength because alongside smashing the shrapnel into dust, what was the ledge of my sink, is also on the floor in a bunch of broken pieces. Backtracking his movement leads my eyes from the rubble, to JJ’s fist-sized disparity in my sink, to his equally as shocked expression.

“What the fuck, JJ?”

“That was a GPS! He must’ve used it to track me. We have to go.”

“What the fuck do I tell my mom about the counter, JJ?”

“We aren’t safe here, Y/n!”

“Where the hell are we going to go at 1 AM on a Thursday night?”

“We’ll figure it out. For now we just gotta get out of the building!”

And before I can protest, JJ grabs my hand in his larger, calloused one and pulls me out of the bathroom.

__________________________

“Stop... I think- we lost him,” JJ gasps for air throughout his sentence as we’ve been sprinting for at least 8 blocks, “Here.” He extends his hand to mine once again and leads us into a dark alleyway so that we don’t compromise our position to goblin.

“We should go to my house.”

“JJ, no, your dad will kill you if you set foot in there while he’s intoxicated.”

“I have to. My only other suit is in my room,” JJ says whilst doubled over, shaking his head ‘no’.

“Are you stupid?!”

“What?”

“You cannot fight Goblin again. Not tonight.” “Why not?”

“Look at you, JJ! You have a hole in your stomach!”

“It’ll heal, Y/n.”

“And what if it doesn't?”

My infuriation doesn’t fall on deaf ears. JJ might have limited emotional intelligence and availability, but he can sense just how upset I am. Why would he even consider suiting up tonight?

“Okay…” JJ puffs out one final sigh and then returns to a neutral standing position, “What do we do?”

An uneasy lull of silence settles over the two of us in this dank alleyway. I shake my head,  unsure.

Looking across the street I recognize the accounting firm that sits on the corner. Which means… I jog out of the alley and into the streetlights, turning right to round the corner of the block.

The laundromat.

The laundromat reminds me of the night I first ran into Spiderman, well, JJ as Spiderman, and that reminds me that I was carrying a to-go box, and that reminds me of Ozzy’s, and Ozzy’s reminds me of…

“The Pogues.”

“Huh?”

“We need the Pogues. Goblin can never find you if you’re hiding in plain sight.”

“Okay?” JJ looks at me, puzzled, “So, where is plain sight?”

__________________________

“Y/n, you better have a damn good reason for bringing us out here at one in the morning,” Kiara scolds me with a yawn. Her bed-hair clearly indicates that my text woke her from a deep sleep. Kie was the last of the group to show up which isn’t usually the case but it is after midnight.

The gang slowly piled in, each of us greeted by the ever-chipper graveyard favorite, Jennifer. She brings us coffee which we could all probably use to stay awake for the insane conversation to come.

“We can’t tell them. It’s too dangerous,” JJ whispers to only me. All six of us are crammed into our usual booth, but I can tell everyone is too tired to care to hear our sidebar. The unfortunate fact is, they’re all awake enough to be concerned as to why JJ and I needed them to gather ‘ASAP’.

JJ leans down to whisper something else that, due to Pope’s exhausted glaring at us, I don’t register immediately.

“What is going on with you two?” He finally speaks up from across the table.

“Why are you sweating? Did you guys really hook up in the bathroom before we got here?” John B teases from behind his already empty coffee mug. JJ is usually a master-bullshitter but right now he’s sputtering like an untouched car from 1980.

I can’t compromise his identity, but it doesn’t seem like he’s able to offer an explanation right now, judging by the lack of color in his face. Against my better judgement, I open my big fat mouth (prematurely because I haven’t thought of a thorough explanation).

“JJ and I are dating!” Oh boy. As the restaurant falls silent, I realize I yelled my declaration of our romance, and now I want nothing more than to dig myself a hole to die in. Pope is the first to speak up,

“I’m guessing you found what you were looking for in Brooklyn tod-“ JJ cuts him off with a harsh wide-eyed stare. Weird, but I’m just gonna ignore it.

“I think it’s great you two are together,” Sarah attempts to ease my embarrassment. I just know I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight, I’ll be too busy cringing at what is now my most embarrassing moment.

All JJ and I can do is nod awkwardly at the others, and I’m doing everything I can to avoid eye contact with him.

“Is that why you guys brought us here tonight? Your emergency meeting was to tell us you’ve been macking on each other?” John B seems less than thrilled at the ‘news’, but amused nonetheless.

“Mhm.”

“We wanted to… come clean with you guys… because friends don’t keep secrets and we didn’t want… our relationship, to potentially ruin the group dynamic… of the pogues…” I trail off, making the situation 1000 times more awkward. My inability to shut up ruined the light Sarah made of the conversation, and the group has simmered into a weird, exhausted silence.

Suddenly the bell on the front door signals a god-given diversion, and the pogues all turn to see who’s entered the restaurant. As if anyone could relieve the tension of the group.

We’re on a roll with bad luck tonight.

Because in through the door comes Mr. Osborn, bitter as ever; he immediately notices us and delivers an intense stare that we all subconsciously take as a cue to leave. All of our farewells begin to overlap with one another's.

“It’s been swell.”

“See you guys in the morning.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

__________________________

JJ and I are the last to leave the diner, but the first to resume the awkward silence. I pretend to be distracted by the moon’s reflection in the windows of the adjacent buildings on our walk back to my house. JJ insisted on walking in front to make sure everything was ‘safe’ but he’s somehow ended up walking behind me.

“So,” he breaks the silence with a mischievous tone, “I’m your boyfriend, huh?”

“Stop! I know. I literally couldn’t stop myself, it was just word vomit.” He laughs at my misfortune. JJ’s laughter settles into a fond smile once he sees that I’m beyond mortified,

“Not your finest moment, I’ll admit.” another moment of silence settles between us, but it’s short lived as we’ve reached the bottom of my building’s fire escape. JJ lowers the ladder for me, “After you, madame.”

I hesitate to climb, wondering why we can’t just go inside. But then I remember my house key remains untouched on the granite kitchen counter. Good call, JJ.

Despite how uncomfortable the night has been, I dread each step up the escape. I don’t want JJ to leave. I feel safe knowing there’s a superhero to look after me - who cares to look after me. Maybe he won’t leave.

All I have to do is ask, right?

I’m building my courage to ask once we reach my bedroom window. I know the fact about when you’re faced with a split decision, if you don’t do it in 10 seconds, you’re not going to do it… but I like to defeat the odds sometimes. 1...

“Thanks for not getting us killed, I guess?”

“I’ll let you off on an IOU,” JJ teases. The air falls quiet once again, but this time it’s serene. 2... It’s lovely to just be in his presence, just the two of us. 3...

His ocean blue eyes focus on mine, 4... they ignite a warmth in me that the air of Queens can’t provide. 5... Without the explanation of words, I can tell JJ feels the exact same way. 6. The feeling falters only slightly because his eyes flick down to my flushed lips, 7, then back up to my eyes.

“Thank you… for everything,” JJ says before enveloping my cold body in a hug. 8. I feel him place a kiss on the top of my freshly shampooed hair. 9.

“Of course. That’s what best friends are for…”

“Yeah… best friends.” 10...

“You know, you don’t have to go home. You can stay here tonight.”

“Oh… okay.”

“Hey. I love you, but you smell so bad right now,” I say as he still hasn’t released me from his hug. Above my head, I hear JJ giggle evilly. Before I can speak, he squeezes his arms around me tighter, smothering me in his gross boy germs.

“Ew! JJ!”

His evil laugh becomes a genuine one and he releases me from his suffocating grip. His eyes lazily encapsulate mine, and his smile makes my heart beat a tiny bit faster. Scents aside, he looks beautiful in the moonlight, with the shitty background of Queens skyscrapers to frame him.

“Maybe we should stay off the roof for a little while.”

“Yeah, good call.”

__________________________

Link to next part here.

A/N: check me out on AO3 if you want, the difference there is that the chapters are better proofread and they have titles. lol.

Taglist strikethrough means I can’t tag you for some reason: @jellyfishbeansontoast @swervavery @wh0reforharry @merismind @danicarosaline @o-b-x @beautyandthebleh @harrysbaby @sexualparkour @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @sovuckie @obxmxybxnk @lovelymaybankk @rockyyc77 @obxlife @cece-lives-here @obx-beach​ @ilymarkchan @yeehaw87 @lopineapples  @sspidermanss @poguestyleskye @jj-maybank-stan @socialwriter @pao-styles-blog @amberritonicole @orangutangua @baby-pogue @drewswannabegirl

[bubmyg]

as cliche as it is,,,,,, can u write about getting teary about something super silly (like a romcom or some cute animal vid idk whatever) bc of your period but yoongi walks in thinking you’re just genuinely crying and is like WHAT and when you end up explaining about whatever he’s like “oh good ok” and you’re like THIS ISNT GOOD WATCH IT AND YOULL CRY TOO and he’s like ok angel akdnsj IDK soft yoongi and you’re emotional on your period is the point ajxnwjdnndjddn I’m sorrY LMAO

genre/warnings: slice of life, more gooey softness

word count: 1,078

Yoongi’s sighed hey was an afterthought, spoken over his shoulder as he shuffled into the bedroom. He barely glanced at the campsite that was your desk, stepping over the crumpled end of the duvet trailing onto the carpet to get to the closet. He’d barely ducked inside, tinted strands of hair dragging through hanging garments to get to the hidden shelf of hoodies when the dip in your voice made him freeze. 

“Hi,” You swallowed, thick and audible, but your next attempt at the greeting was just a muffled squeak, “I mean, uh, hi.”

His retract from the mess of tangled hangers was slow, without the hoodie he’d came for, narrowed eyes zeroing in on the back of your head. Slow, marching steps brought him to stand silently behind you, hands curling into the back of your desk chair. It came willingly when he pushed, your legs swinging limply as he turned you to face him. 

Warm palms curled over your cheeks, ducking at the waist, thumbs flicking over the thick droplets that spilled from the corner of your eyes. Yoongi’s features scrunched in worry, lips wrinkled and pursed, chin cocking to hush, “Are you crying?” 

Your skin grew hot in his grasp and he watched as you adverted your gaze. He didn’t press, ducking further to be fully at eye level with you, thumbs doing clean up work on the apples of your cheeks as you sighed, fiddling with your fingers in the crease of your thighs. 

“It’s just...” You trailed off, meeting his attentive gaze that hadn’t faltered yet. He offered an encouraging smile when your bottom lip wobbled, ignoring the lip of a fresh wave of tears over the keratin in his thumb nails. Your watery gaze slipped from his, trying to crane out of his grasp and over your shoulder, “...it’s just, this video I was watching—”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit in the middle, following your line of sight to the video still open and playing across the screen of your laptop. 

It was a compilation video. Of kittens. 

His teeth sank into the inside of his cheek, trying desperately to fight away the endeared smile that threatened to burst at his lips because you were so serious and you looked so heartbroken and he almost couldn’t bear how in love he was. “Oh,” His palms slide across the softness of your cheeks, curled index finger collecting one final path of tears in route for his spine to straighten. “Okay, good.”

He thought your attention had trailed back to the happening on screen and he took the opportunity to sneak away for that hoodie. But his attempts were to no avail when something like a whimper left your lips, plastic in your chair creaking as your whirled, grappling for his wrist. 

“It’s not good,” You insisted, bottom lip fully and dramatically pushed underneath your cupid’s bow. You tugged on Yoongi’s arm, once, twice, “Watch and you’ll see it’s not good.”

He came on the third tug, stumbling to stand behind your chair. His amused, shoulder shaking laughter brushed across your cheek as he crouched, settling his chin on your shoulder, his wrist still held captive by one of your hands as you placed it in your lap, fumbling messily with the cursor on screen with your latter, free hand. 

You paused the frame on two black kittens, a bright yellow feather on the corner of the screen. One look interested in the feather, the latter wholly focused on his friend’s thrashing tail. His conscious barely had time to formulate a thought before you were tugging on him again, with both hands again, sighing, “No you have to come here and watch it.”

Yoongi tugged back on his appendage, forcing the slight turn of your desk chair with his movements. “Come on. Up,” He tugged again, aiding you in standing. He slid into your spot, pulling you rather ungracefully to his lap. Your head lulled against his shoulder as wide palms splayed over your hips, meeting inside the expansive pouch stitched to the front of your, his, hoodie hanging on your torso. 

With lips firmly planted on the side of your neck, he kicked his feet to face your laptop, heels digging into the floor below to bring your figures closer. “This clip?” He confirmed, nudging the hinge of your jaw with his nose.

You nodded weakly, wiggling around in his tight grasp to clack on the space bar with the bend of your thumb into your wrist. You curled back into him, cheek pressed into his shoulder, fingers twisting at your parted lips as another tiny gasp mewled in your throat. 

The assumed actions transpired across the screen. One kitten was entirely preoccupied with the toy handled by someone off screen, the latter pouncing and nibbling at the meat of his friend’s tail. It ended quicker than it began, transitioning into some other clip of kittens basking in their youth. 

“That doesn’t make you want to cry?” You accused, jabbing a finger to the center of his chest. 

Yoongi’s smile curled wrinkles up his nose first, then spread to his teeth, landing finally on the unabashed beam of his gums down at you. He shook his head, slowly at first, then ceasing into more laughter when you swatted at his shoulder, ducking away to burrow further into his arms. 

“It’s just so good,” You reasoned, words muffling as you dug your face into his chest, “They’re so good. Kittens are just. So. Good.” 

“Okay, angel,” He agreed, lips planting themselves on the crown of your head, “Kittens are the best.” 

After a second of your palms flexing into the material of his shirt, sniffles subsiding through your pulse evening with his hands pressed against your tummy, he proposed, “Do you want to take a nap?”

You all but moaned, curling your arms around his neck to press flushed cheeks into his throat.

“This is why you’re my soulmate.”

Yoongi snorted, hands drawing out of the pocket on your hoodie to curl underneath your knees, tucking you into a ball to wiggle off the chair while juggling you in his grasp. 

“Love you too—” He stood with a grunt, hoisting you up and dragging you around the side of the bed to drop you rather unceremoniously into the unmade sheets. He made one final reach for you, thumb flicking the last of dried tears from the crease of your lips before crawling in beside you, “—nerd.”