#but not a simple guitar pattern

[chericherilvr]

Me thinking that I'll get the hang of tempos and counts for guitar cause I am a dancer who is on tempo and keeps counts:

Reality:

[qulizalfos]

adrianne lenker. guys

[sirenedeslily]

it’s late—so late, almost 3 a.m., and you’re both wrapped up in the stillness of a room where candlelight flickers shadows onto the walls. the low, warm glow casts an amber haze over everything, painting you both in soft, melted hues. outside, the world sleeps, leaving only the soft, steady hum of the record player filling the room, the quiet strum of guitar notes tracing through the silence like a whisper. the song is slow, thick with longing, and you feel it sinking into your bones, the way music sometimes does when the night is soft, and time stretches out like it’ll last forever.

matt’s sitting close, so close that you can see the delicate lines of ink woven across his arms, intricate designs that tell a thousand quiet stories. his tattoos blend into the soft shadows of his skin, his arm resting around your shoulders, fingers tracing light patterns down your back, almost absentmindedly, as though he can’t help but touch you. his hair’s messy, soft like he’s been running his hands through it all night. those blue eyes catch yours, and he smiles, just a little crookedly, like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.

“you know,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, a kind of reverence in it that you’ve only ever heard him use with you, “i could stay like this forever. just—us, right here.”

you can feel his breath, warm against your cheek, and his lips brush yours in a way that’s barely there, so light that it feels like he’s memorizing every tiny moment. he cups your face, his thumb tracing slow circles along your cheek as if you’re something precious, something he’d never want to let go of.

“you’re so perfect, you know that? like, how is it possible that i get to have you like this?”

his words are soft, sincere, threaded with that slight rasp in his voice that you adore. he keeps kissing you, slow and unhurried, like he’s got all the time in the world. each kiss feels like a promise—like he’s trying to tell you all the things he feels but can’t put into words. and you know him well enough to understand it; every kiss speaks volumes, a silent confession of all the love he holds in that heart of his.

between kisses, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded, the faintest smile on his lips. his fingers brush through your hair, and he chuckles, low and warm.

“god, i love this,” he whispers, voice barely audible, almost like he’s speaking to himself. “i love you.” his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips finding yours again. it’s gentle, yet there’s something deep and unyielding behind it, a kind of desperation like he’s scared this might all be a dream.

the song shifts, the guitar fading into a soft, distant refrain, and for a second, you’re both quiet, breathing in sync as you hold each other. the world could be crumbling around you, but here, with matt, it feels like nothing else matters. the room’s filled with the scent of autumn—clove, cinnamon, a faint hint of something woody. he pulls you closer, his arm tight around your waist, his lips pressed against your temple.

“can i just…keep kissing you?” he whispers, almost like he’s asking permission, and you feel the smile pull at your lips.

“matt,” you say, and he leans back just enough to look at you, blue eyes catching the candlelight. “you don’t have to ask, honey.”

a smile breaks across his face, a bit bashful, and he shakes his head. “just—you don’t know what you do to me.” his fingers brush over your jaw, tracing every line, and he presses another lingering kiss to your lips, softer this time, more tender. you lose yourself in him, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and the way his touch seems to melt away everything else in the world.

as the song fades, the room slips into silence, and he just keeps holding you, keeps kissing you like you’re the only thing that matters. it’s simple, beautiful, and as you both sink into that quiet, you realize you don’t need anything else. just him, just this moment, and the way he makes you feel like forever might just be real.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ lil comfort blurb, i love slow dance by clairo :p

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮���𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet

© sirenedeslily

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

[soupuurr]

𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 - christopher sturniolo

pairing. sub!chris x dom!reader

genre. smut

⟶ content warnings. explicit content, porn with plot, guitarist!chris, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, handjob, dacryphilia, overstimulation, creampie. MDNI

⟶ summary. you never expected to be drawn to your new guitar instructor, finding it hard to concentrate during lessons as your mind wanders. But what unfolds when you find yourself at his house for a lesson?

holy shit.

your breath hitched—eyes moving with reverence across the expanse of the shabby downtown studio you stumbled into. its wooden plank walls were adorned with numerous colorful guitars and basses. a breathtaking musical maze. timber stools had been meticulously placed amongst the lengthy isles, bringing you to a palatial library filled with guitar books.

your fingers ran along the straps of the acoustic guitar case resting snug against your back. as you wandered deep into the studio, your eyes bounced off of the unique furniture and decorative pieces scattered around the area.

you were quickly captivated by faint strumming echoing throughout the building, and with each venturous step inside, the sound seemed to intensify. you curiously spun around the corner of the last isle before halting—all of the air escaped your lungs as you stood, dumbfounded, in front of possibly the most ethereal boy you’ve ever seen.

he sat on a wooden stool, beat up air forces resting against the bottom. his back was hunched over a dark brown acoustic embellished with an intricate pattern along the sound hole—blue eyes trained on his fingers that expertly glided along the fretboard. wavy brunet hair peeked out from his black, lyrical lemonade beanie, and a thin silver chain rested neatly on his neck.

you must’ve startled the poor guy—he jumped after noticing your presence, nearly dropping the precious guitar in his hold.

“s-shit.” he mumbled, swiftly clearing his throat and adjusting his posture.

“i’m sorry about that. you must be my new student!” he smiled professionally before sticking his hand out,

he was your new guitar instructor?

you stretched out your own hand, his much larger one entirely engulfing yours as he shook it. your eyes lingered on his long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, his pretty hands were decorated with attractive veins and silver jewelry. you couldn’t help but imagine how they might feel inside of your pussy, your heart fluttered at the thought.

“my name is chris, nice to meet you.” he stated as he hopped off of his stool, carefully placing the guitar on a nearby stand.

chris. his name seemed so moan-able too, tumbling right off of the tongue like sweet honey.

fuck, everything about him was perfect.

“our lessons will be upstairs, in the private rooms.” your tummy flipped with excitement. you couldn’t trust yourself alone with him, fearing you might pounce on him the very moment he would shut the door behind you.

you followed him up the narrow staircase, the surrounding air tense with sexual frustration—at least for you. your gentle footsteps reverberated around the tapered space as chris led you to a roughed-up door ornamented with multiple stickers consisting of lyrical lemonade, guitars, music artists, you name it.

the interior, however, was plain and simple. holding only a tiny cabinet—filled with books you assume—and a couple of movie posters. two different guitars were leaned against the back wall, a normal acoustic, and a beautiful red electric one. chris chuckled next to you, observing your piqued interest.

“that one’s my favorite.” he nodded his head towards the cherry colored guitar.

“it’s so beautiful.” you remark. he smiled, gazing at you intently. after a sharp exhale, he reached for the acoustic guitar—preparing for your lesson.

the lesson itself was pretty uneventful to say the least, you couldn’t focus on a single thing that chris had instructed you to do, often finding yourself hypnotized by his plump lips or icy blue eyes.

truthfully, chris also found himself to be enamored by you. he found your fascination incredibly endearing. there was something about you that made him eager to learn more.

with each lesson, your bond undeniably deepened—the friendship blooming into something raw and beautiful.

and, with each lesson, chris wanted more. your cute giggles and lengthy conversations would no longer suffice. chris didn’t know what was wrong with him, he knew it was fucked up when he would catch himself slipping a hand past his waistband in the after hours, needy pants and whimpers leaving his desperate lips as his hand would wrap around his base—pretending that it was your own. he felt so dirty, so wrong.

you would be doing the same. pumping two fingers inside of your cunt whenever your mind would drift off to lewd, disgusting thoughts about your guitar instructor—his fingertips that would move so swiftly on the guitar strings would probably feel amazing rubbing against your puffy clit, plus his gorgeous face was way too perfect not to ride. just thinking about him made you giddy and immensely horny.

therefore, it was only natural that your heart would race upon receiving the text he sent you the following day.

the studio is closed today, we’ll have our lesson at my house if that’s okay with you.

*address*

a lesson at his house? you bit your nails nervously before smoothing your hand down the skimpy skirt you had planned to surprise him with. as you drove to his home, the atmosphere was suffused with unbearable silence, the prospect of being alone in his house making you nervous—you pictured him patiently waiting for you in such an intimate setting and it churned your stomach with anxiety.

you rang his doorbell and the door swung open almost immediately. chris’s eyes filled with lust the moment they landed on you, swallowing thickly as he caught sight of the skirt that wrapped so nicely around your thighs. he cursed at himself when he felt his dick grow in his pants.

“c-come in!” chris prayed that you somehow missed his obvious hard-on, stepping aside to allow you to enter while shielding himself with the door. he depravedly watched your hips sway with every step you took—knowing that he needed to control himself before he would make a mess in his pants.

“are we going to be over here?” you gestured towards the couch and small stool positioned in the center of the living room. chris nodded silently in response. what was he thinking? having the girl he fantasized about every night in his fucking living room? chris wished that he could go back in time—he wished that he never met you because fuck, you drove him insane.

and you weren’t stupid. you saw chris’s cock stir in his pants the moment you stepped foot inside, however you had to admit that you absolutely loved playing with him, doing things like stretching purposefully—exposing your navel to his hungry blue eyes.

you sat on the tiny stool, your plump thighs deliciously resting on the wood. chris wanted nothing more than to run his soft hands under your cami shirt—kiss your neck feverishly while grinding his painfully hard dick against you.

“i practiced this piece at home and i just can’t get this chord right.” you pulled your guitar from its case and hugged it tightly, wearing a pout on your face.

“will you help me chris?” you looked at him seductively from under your lashes, a tiny smirk carving its way onto your pink lips. chris gritted his teeth—you had to know what you were doing, right?

“uhm, yeah. this one’s a bar chord so you have to make sure that your pointer finger is pressing down on every string. like this.” chris adjusted his hand and you observed as his fingers curled perfectly around the guitar neck, you squeezed your thighs together in want before a brilliant, filthy idea struck you.

“hmm, i don’t think i get it” you frown, chris watched with wide eyes as you got up from your seat and alluringly strode towards him—moving his guitar out of the way so you could place your ass right on his erection. chris hissed from underneath you, still in shock as he hovered his hands over your hips. he wanted to thrust his hips against you so fucking bad, but he had to be professional. you just needed help, nothing more.

"can you show me now?" you set the guitar back on your lap and gently took hold of chris’s wrist, guiding his fingers to position them over yours on the fretboard. his fingers deftly directed yours to the correct position, while his other hand strummed the chord, its beautiful sound ringing in the air.

you softly bit your lip as you felt his breath tickling your neck, you could smell his aromatic scent—feeling him everywhere. his chest against your back, arms curved around your figure and cock pressing against your soaking wet cunt. you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips against his experimentally. chris gasped and placed his hands against you. fingertips curving around your hipbones so he could push your hips back onto his clothed cock. you held the guitar tightly as you rubbed your pussy against him. you felt as if you were going to explode, his teasing touch lingering on your sides.

fuck it.

you swiftly placed the guitar on the ground and flipped around—straddling him. his blue eyes greedily ran themselves down your body, landing on the spot where you intimately connected. your hands ruffled through his long messy hair before pulling at the lone strands—bringing your lips together with fervor. chris moaned, your teeth clashing and noses bumping as your heads nodded into the lust filled kiss.

chris’s hands traveled along your back, pressing gently against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck and grind your body against him once more. your tits pressed onto him and your perky nipples grazed his chest every so slightly. you disconnected your lips with a soft smack, gazing lazily into each other’s eyes.

“tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” you huffed, placing your hands on his chest. chris hummed in response, eager for you to finally touch him. you leisurely removed yourself from his lap and perched in-between his thighs. your hands land on his belt, pulling it through the loops before yanking it off of his body. chris sat obediently, biting his lips raw—cheeks sprinkled rosy pink.

your fingers hooked themselves on his jeans, sliding them off with ease—and your mouth salivated at the sight of his pretty cock standing painfully against his abdomen, cute pink tip spurting beads of pre-cum. chris dropped his jaw as your thumb found his tip, sliding his slick along his cock. you place your lips on him and tenderly purse your lips around his slit before sliding him further down your throat. chris’s hands shoot to your hair, hips bucking helplessly while pretty little moans spew past his lips. you gently squeeze his balls against your fingertips as you watch him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

“f-fuck!” chris pants out, your acrylic nail slides its way along the base of his cock before you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him painfully slow while you hollow your cheeks. the movement of your hand gradually increases, constant squelches of chris’s slick filling the room. you pull away until your mouth was occupied with just his tip, sucking on it harshly and pushing his hips down when they would buck against your mouth, you observe his desperate gasps and pants as he got closer and closer to the edge.

it wasn’t long before lengthy, thick ropes of chris’s cum squirted down your throat. the slightly salty taste on your tongue ripping a moan from your lips, chris squirmed with overstimulation as the noise vibrated against his cock.

he looked so pretty with his face fucked out, lashes fluttering on his pink cheeks and chest heaving with every breath he took. you wanted to ruin him. please him so well that all he would be able to do is sit there and take it like a good boy.

you prod your fingers at his lips before pushing them past, watching as he sucked on them with hooded eyes—plump lips resting against your skin.

your lips curled into a smirk, abruptly pulling your fingers out and rubbing the palm of your hand against his sensitive tip. chris yelped and arched his back deliciously, body squirming against the couch as your palm pushed deeper. your fingers curled around him—digging your thumb in his slit. chris cried out, eyes pooling with tears of absolute pleasure. he squeezed them shut and sobbed, the welled up tears sliding down his cheeks as he came again. the warm spurts striking your hand and ruining his shirt.

“can you handle another one?” you stood up, straddling his hips once more. chris nodded and pushed his lips against yours, whining into every smack of your lips. you drag your hands underneath his spoilt shirt, peeling it off of his body. your other hand pushed your thong to the side before stretching your precious cunt over his cock. you both moan in unison as you begin to rock your hips—hands trailing up his chest to pinch his nipples between your fingers. chris winces and leans his head against the couch, your hips swiveling on his cock while you pinned his wrists against the cushions. you were so close, capturing his lips in a kiss when you finally felt yourself fall apart, chris’s cock twitched inside of you—filling you spurt after spurt until a ring of white cum leaked around his base.

you fall limp against him, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

"that was amazing," chris panted—kissing your cheek as you lay on top of him. you giggled in response, brushing your hand against his jaw.

“i guess we should continue our lesson right?”

a.n.

i cannot even begin to fathom the amount of love my dilf!matt fic got. you guys are actually insane. thank you SO MUCH for reading my works and supporting me, this is such a surreal moment.

also thank you for 300 followers. ALREADY.

but seriously, i’m in shock. thank you guys so much.

tags.

@luverboychris @sturniololvrrs @sturniolo0ntop @deadiish @robins-scoop @ihad-athought @matt444nixi @delooshunalhoe @sturnlover4eva @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @sturni0l0 @pepsiboyy @devscottage @leahsbussy @sturncon @asimp4chris @gdsvhtwa @stvrnmc @bimbob1tch @m0r94n @mattsturnxoxo @themattgirl17 @lauras14567 @ev3rgreenxtrees @autsturni @killuaxgabby @sturniolosarethebest @mattssluttygf @getosuckers @kenzieiskoolaid @fuckshitslover @miabumbia @t77te @futuristicladywonderland @janiellasblog @strnzzvsp @mattsdirtylittlehoe @stvrnmc @ifwfrankocean @sturniolosl0t @madssturniolo @poopydroopt @ilymusic27 @vetej05 @anisahgonzalez @satvisfavetoodles @youtubelover03 @nicksrosetoy @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @matts-whore

i’m so sorry if i couldn’t find you/put you in here, i can only tag 50 of y’all 😭

[zebuie]

#♡BOYS WILL BE BUGS♡#

❝𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; bbf!ellie x reader

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

❝𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒❞; After a breakup, your brother's best friend offers guidance through guitar lessons, but the connection between you deepens, crossing the lines of friendship.

❝𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; 1.7k words, reader had a bf, swearing, this is actually pretty fluffy,✂️✂️✂️, fingering (r receiving, nipple sucking (r receiving, Ellie calls u princess like once, i honestly don’t knowwww😔

↳𝐀/𝐍; Ellie being bbf is mentioned like once……✊🏽 it’s the thought that counts tho right !! i whipped this up in honor of pride month when I was work.happey bride month❤️❤️ be whooo u areeee 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩✂️

It was a crisp morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon when your boyfriend shattered your heart in the most cowardly way possible - through a simple text message. 

I mean- how shittier can he get?!

You found yourself unable to leave the comfort of your bed for three whole days as you grappled with the depth of betrayal. Just when you thought you were alone, your brother's best friend, Ellie, entered your room with a gentle knock on the door.

"She sat gingerly on the edge of your bed, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. Softly, she spoke, her voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart. "Hey," she began, her gaze never leaving your face, "I know this is tough, but you can't keep hiding in here forever."

Ellie's hand reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she was handling something fragile and precious. 

Her fingers lingered on your cheek for a moment, tracing a soothing pattern against your skin.

She continued to stroke your hair, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I just thought...maybe you'd want some company.” You stayed silent.

Ellie paused for a moment, her eyes glinting mischievously as she seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Wait right here," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. She rose from the edge of the bed and disappeared out of sight.

"I think this'll cheer you up," she said, her fingers dancing over the strings, producing a soft, melodic tune. The guitar hummed under her touch, the notes weaving a soothing, gentle melody that filled the air. (and of course she’s playing take on me by a-ha.)

Ellie began to sing, her voice soft and sweet as it matched the melody of the guitar. 

The words she sang were familiar, the chorus of a song you knew well. 

Despite the pain you were feeling, you couldn't help but be comforted by her presence, the sound of her voice, and the gentle strums of her guitar.

Her eyes never left your face as she sang, the words seeming almost like a comforting anthem aimed at lifting your spirits. 

The room was bathed in a warm, golden light as she continued to play, the notes hanging in the air like silent promises of better days ahead.

As the last note faded away, Ellie set the guitar down, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. 

"How was that?" she asked, still peering intently into your face, searching for signs of improvement. "Did it help even a little bit?"

You found yourself nodding slightly, a small spark of hope flickering within you. 

The music, combined with her gentle care, had managed to break through the cloud of despair that had surrounded you for days. 

Her eyes lit up at your response, her smile widening into a full-blown grin.

You found yourself suddenly sitting up a little straighter, the spark of curiosity igniting within you. "Could you..." you began, your voice hesitant, 

"teach me how to play?"

Ellie's eyes widened slightly, surprise flitting across her features before being replaced by a soft smile. 

"Of course," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "I'd love to teach you."

Ellie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she shifted on the bed, moving behind you. 

"Alright," she said, her voice a soft whisper against your ear. "Here, let me show you how to hold the guitar properly.

Her hands gently guided yours as she positioned the guitar across your lap, her fingers delicately adjusting the placement of your hands. "Just like this..." she murmured, her voice soft and patient. 

Her body was close, her chest almost touching your back, as she leaned forward, her chin resting on your shoulder.

Her breath was warm against your skin, the tips of her fingers tracing lightly over your knuckles. "Now, place your fingers here, on the strings," she instructed, her voice a soothing murmur. "Yep, just like that.

Her hand enveloped your own, guiding your fingers into the correct position on the fretboard. "Now, press down firmly, but not too hard," she instructed, her voice steady and soothing. 

As you pressed down, a soft chord echoed through the room, the sound surprisingly sweet.

Ellie let out a soft laugh, her breath tickling your ear. "Not bad for a beginner," she said, her tone filled with pride. "Now, try strumming the strings gently.

You took a deep breath, positioning your fingers properly as you stroked them over the strings, producing another soft sound. 

Ellie nodded her head in approval, a smile in her voice as she spoke. "Perfect. You're catching on quickly."

She moved to wrap her arms around you, her body pressing closer against your back. 

Her chin was still perched on your shoulder as she watched you intently, her breath warm against your skin. 

"Try strumming a little faster now," she encouraged, her voice rich with patience.

You obeyed, your fingers moving a bit faster over the strings, producing a slightly faster, more melodious sound. 

Your heart was pounding, a strange mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through you. 

Ellie chuckled, the sound rumbling softly through her chest. "See? You're a natural."

Her chin moved from your shoulder to your ear, her lips hovering dangerously close as she spoke. 

"Now try and do it without looking at the strings. Trust your fingers to find the right frets..." her voice low and gentle.

Your breath caught in your throat at the nearness of her face, but you pushed the sensation away and focused on the strings beneath your fingers. 

Slowly, you began to strum, trying to remember the placement of your fingers without looking. It was a bit more challenging, but the sound was still clear and sweet. 

"Good..." Ellie whispered, her voice filled with encouragement.

Her breath was warm on your neck now, the proximity of her body making goose bumps erupt on your skin.

 "Keep going like that," she murmured, her hands still guiding your own on the guitar. "You're doing great."

The heat of her body was intoxicating, the closeness almost overwhelming. 

Your fingers moved over the strings, each stroke producing a clear, sweet sound that filled the room. Her breath was warm against your ear, her chest rising and falling in time with your own. 

"That's it," she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur. "You're a fast learner.”

You couldn't help yourself anymore. 

The tension in the room was palpable, and the proximity of her body to yours was driving you wild. Turning around abruptly, you captured her lips in a swift, impulsive kiss.

Ellie's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but quickly softened as she melted into the kiss. 

Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified. The guitar fell to the side, forgotten, as your lips moved together hungrily.

The moment your lips meet Ellie's, the world around you fades away. The guitar, the lesson, the fact that she was teaching you how to play guitar minutes ago—none of it matters as you lose yourselves in the kiss. 

Ellie's fingers dig into your hips as she pulls you flush against her body; her tongue dancing with yours in a passionate tango.

Finally breaking apart for air, Ellie's cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are heavy-lidded with desire. "Fuck," she breathes hoarsely. 

She looks up to you as a way of asking for permission and eagerly you nod, she lows herself down and pulls down your shorts.

 She licks her lips before leaning in to press a kiss to the fabric. "So pretty." Her fingers hook into the elastic, pulling the material aside as she gives your bare sex a long, admiring look. 

"so wet already," she notes with a smile. With that, she plunges two fingers inside you, feeling you clench around the intrusion.

Ellie gently rocks her fingers inside you, curving them to stroke that magical spot. You moan softly, your hips undulating against her hand as she explores your sensitive depths. "Relax, princess," she coos. 

"jus let me take care of you." Her thumb rubs slow circles over your clit as her fingers continue their tender thrusts. 

You feel your pleasure building under her ministrations; your body trembling and your breath growing short.

As you near the edge, Ellie slows her movements, pulling her fingers out of you slowly as she gently pulls off your shirt.

she kisses you again, soft and sweet; her tongue flicking across your lips as she holds you close. When she finally pulls away, she leaves a trail of gentle kisses down your neck. "I want to see all of you," she whispers, snapping open your bra with deft fingers. 

She guides it off, letting your breasts fall free. "So beautiful," she breathes, taking one of your nipples into her mouth for a tender suck.

Ellie laves your breast, lapping at the nipple with her tongue before nipping it gently. 

She worships your chest with slow, reverent kisses as her hands roam over your skin, rediscovering every curve and dip. When she finally looks up at you again, her eyes are dark with need.

 "Please," she whispers, "I need to feel you against me." With that, she guides you down onto the couch, settling between your legs as she lines herself up with your entrance. Slowly, she sinks inside you—both of you moaning at the sensation of their joining.

The kiss breaks, and Ellie rests her forehead against yours; her body buried inside you to the hilt. "Holy shit..” she breathes. "so good." She begins to move, slowly at first, rolling her hips as she searches for the perfect angle. When she finds it, she doesn't hesitate, pounding into you with all the passion she's been holding back. 

The bed creaks in protest as you're slammed against it—Ellie's nails digging into your hips as she claims you.

You cling to Ellie as she rides you hard, your fingers twisted in her hair as your bodies slam together again and again. The sound of skin on skin fills the room; mingling with your ragged breathing and Ellie's throaty moans. 

She slams her hips down, burying herself to the hilt inside you as she grinds against your clit with every thrust, “my fucking god-“ she gasps. "I'm gonna...fuck, I'm gonna cum." With that, she buries her face in your neck, biting the sensitive skin as she convulses above you; her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

[messylustt]

what you remind them of. spiderverse

you reminded hobie brown of stickers. in a figurative sense, but also a literal. the way you could be placed anywhere and still be recognisable to him. some days he saw a pattern, etched into the way you smiled. other days he saw colours, reflected from the way you felt. blue, orange, pink, green. the changeable nature has him reeling and intrigued. he wants you to decorate his life, or at least his guitar. with your careful fingers, options of cartoon characters or skulls being plastered to one of his most prized possessions. he loved it. the way you’d change, matching his inconsistent attitude. and when the stickers would begin to ware and peel, he never once chose to remove them. because the reminder that you’d stay, his want for you to stay made his ringed fingers dance over the simple stuck cut outs.

you reminded miguel o’hara of sugar. sweet of course, but something his tastebuds had to get used to. he wasn’t a sweet tooth at first. finding your sugary tone and sweet sweet smile something hard to stomach. maybe deep down it was because he secretly craved something of that flavour, that taste. he tried to keep his diet free from you, ignoring his salivating mouth. but he had to give in, he just had to with the way he knew your skin would be exactly what he needs his tongue to feel. his life lacklustre, filled with bland foods and even blander friendliness. you were a breath of fresh air, something he knew he’d grow addicted to. his sweet tooth was now prominent, obsessed with you day after day.

you reminded lyla of tears. something she physically couldn’t compute. the way the water droplets would fall, staining your cheeks and creating a morning dew feel to your eyelashes. when she first saw them, her instinct was to reach out. her code told her she couldn’t wipe your eyes but her want told her she could. so pretty when you’d either cry from joy or sadness. though most of the time alone, lyla would be watching. tears…your tears were something she remembered. strangely it didn’t compare to others. some would wail, sniffle, exclaim. but you would sit, blinking, and letting the tears slowly make their descent down your face, coating your lips in a shimmer that made her want to lean in.

you reminded miles morales of shoelaces. specifically his shoelaces. the amount of times you’ve reminded him to tie them has been endless. your subtle gestures or raises of your brows, has earned him to glance down. sometimes he’d catch you, fingers out as you lean to do them yourself. but he’d never want you to do the work so he’d poke his finger against your head, moving you back. now you’d call him stupid, he’d call you a little neat freak, while stumbling over his untied laces. your smug smile would earn a flustered but still stubborn state from him. but just to annoy you a step further he’d always be tying your shoelaces, neglecting his own in a way of saying ‘your safety is more important than mine.’ which would result in a round about way of you pointing out the ‘safety’ of it while threatening to have them glued.

you reminded miles morales earth-42 of paint. the kind that’s messy and creates large artworks. your face might be stained with colour, your fingers most definitely so. with raised brows and a frown he’d point out your never ending strokes. you’d bring colour to his world, hellbent eventually, as he’d push off the idea for what feels like eternity. but slowly, gradually, would he find your paints staining his skin, matching graffitied art like a tattoo. surprisingly he wouldn’t wipe it away, tracing the mess with a prowler claw. you were a mess, all over the place, he made that clear to you. but what he doesn’t tell you is the way he’s kept your messy paintings for himself, subtly letting you paint and create at his home. he may not admit to it, but you’ve painted your heart, a pretty thing that he’s kept all for himself.

you reminded pavitr prabhakar of shells. the kind of seashore ones found at the beach. it’s a new scenery from what he’s used to. you seem to always have this saltwater scent, fresh and inviting. with smiles he’s spoken to you, listened to your voice like the shells that float out into the ocean, dragging him with you. he likes the feel of the sand between his toes. he also likes the pretty patterns that would imbed themselves into the ground. you were like a shell, pretty and something he always loves to find. he liked to treasure the shells he’d find, keep them safe. collections like the collections he’d want to keep of your words. tucked safe into his pockets. your intriguing secrets with the sound of ocean that you’d hear when you press your ear to a larger shell matched perfectly.

you reminded gwen stacy of neon lights. bright and colourful. you were something that made her eyes widen as she stared. like a club street light, you’d invite people in. even inside the club with the flashing lights, you’d keep people entertained. she always stood by you, soaking in your colourful rays. she may even gain inspiration for her hair, the tinges of pink that would stain your lips made her want to match. you were alive in the night, her favourite pastime just flying through the city with you as her guide. even if it would rain you seemed to shine, your smile only making her eyes reflect colour. you made her feel excited with your hooded gaze. you even met under a neon street sign, ready for a mission in the dark. a mission she’ll never forget.

you reminded peter b. parker of a pillow. comforting and something easy to rest his head on. you’d feel him doze off on your shoulder, maybe even your lap. small dribbles of drool would make you smile at just how easy it was to get him to sleep if you were in his reach. even your clothes reflected comfort, his hands gravitating towards you. he almost always kept you tucked to him like a carry on pillow. a pillow mayday seemed to enjoy too, as she’d crawl all over your shoulders, your secure hands making sure she didn’t fall. she may even think you bigger like a bed, as she’d jump excitedly in your arms. not to mention your soft skin, his fingers tracing over like a silk slip.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[kamotecue]

you make me crazier ꕥ a. russo

pairing: alessia russo x reader

summary: when the arsenal team gets invited to attend an international artist’s show, little did they know—one of their recent signings is secretly dating them. pop star!reader

you hummed playing with the strings of your guitar, a habit you always had ever since you were a child. currently, sound check was going on and you were waiting for the lucky ones, the arsenal women’s team—you’re a fan of football.

you noticed your manager who was monitoring you with a few of your tour staff. a small chuckle escaped your lips when you saw the way your manager looked at her watch frantically.

“it seems like the arsenal women’s team has arrived.” jenny said, as you hummed—giving her a small nod. as she scurried to greet them.

you strummed the strings of the guitar playing one of your favorite songs, crazier by taylor swift. not knowing that the team had entered already, nor how your favorite person watched with a small smile on her face.

“you lift my feet off the ground, you spin me around.” you sang as you thought about the time where you agreed to be alessia’s girlfriend. the wide smile she had, it was something you had fallen for.

“would you be mine, y/n?” alessia asked, as you gave her a shy soft smile. you gave her a nod, as she lifted you up from the ground—gently spinning you around in happiness.

“you make me crazier, crazier. feels like i’m falling and i—i’m lost in your eyes.” you opened your eyes, as you noticed the team watching you with a smile, some looked starstrucked, and some admired the way you sang. but one—was totally in love with you, and they didn’t know that.

“you make me crazier, crazier—crazier.” you stood up before giving them a small bow, as they had clapped when the song had ended. jenny giving you a knowing look, as she knew about the private relationship.

of course, she knew—your childhood bestfriend turned manager. a chaotic bunch the two of you were.

“did you guys like it?” you asked, giving a small hum. as leah, the team’s co-captain gave you a nod. alessia watched as you came closer, greeting the team.

the sound check was exactly how you wanted it to be, the team enjoyed it. but it’s not over yet, is it? there’s still the actual concert, the team had the closest view to you—as they had the front row.

the set list was simple, you were playing the second album you released—it truly was a hit. you watched as the crowd cheered the loudest, but you kept your eyes on a certain blonde.

it was the way her eyes shined when she watched you sang. the way she’d look at you with pure adoration, and would get a bit teary eyed as she acknowledges what you accomplished and is proud to have you as her lover.

when the last song ended, you stood up—the tour staff quickly entering the stage to grab your guitar, and other things.

“that was a great show, london. i’m glad to have come out here for my tour, and i really can’t wait to come back.” you said, as the crowd cheered. you blew a kiss, as you entered the backstage—knowing that the arsenal team already had passes.

henry, your bodyguard let the team pass as they waited outside of your dressing room. chatter was heard, as the door swung open—revealing you in a simple white long sleeved polo shirt, black pleated wide leg dressy trousers, white trainers and plaid pattern argyle print pocket v-sweater.

“hi, i’m y/n.” you softly said, as the team chuckled at your awkwardness—even jenny gave you a pointed look, snickering at you.

you chatted with the whole team, not minding how you held onto alessia’s pinky—it was covered by a jacket she had placed over her leg.

a simple post is what broke the internet, it also had the arsenal group chat blowing up.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

pretend you’re the one alessia is hugging. an iconic photo this is.

liked by alessiarusso99, katie_mccabe11, leahwilliamsonn, and 12,253,042 others.

y/nl/n23: as a queen once said, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. @alessiarusso99

⤷ alessiarusso99: likewise, love. you’re the best thing that’s ever been mine as well.

leahwilliamsonn: can’t believe you didn’t tell us, less.

⤷ alessiarusso99: sorry, cap. at least you know now

name1: no way, an arsenal and y/n l/n crossover.

name2: breaking the internet like it’s preath.

[colorfuldragons]

across the spider-verse characters, but as flight rising dragons

𝟣. miles morales: obsidian/sanguine/ruby

2. gwen stacy: orca/magenta/magenta

3. pavitr prabhakar: crimson/oilslick/vermilion

4. hobie brown [wildclaw] [ridgeback]: crimson/garnet/obsidian

edit: someone on discord made a good point that hobie shouldnt be the most expensive kind of dragon, so i added a ridgeback alt version! f pose ridgeback, since theres apparel layering issues on the m pose

5. miguel o'hara: sapphire/garnet/ruby

6. jessica drew: vermilion/obsidian/oilslick

7. peter b. parker: sapphire/vermilion/vermilion

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

design notes about the scries, below the cut:

𝟣. miles morales

the patterns from his genes already reflected miles' spider-suit patterns well, so his scry doesnt have a lot of apparel

the bewitching ruby pendants represents his spider logo

2. gwen stacy

gwen has runes tert, because there werent any suitable pink glove apparels (the peony ones dont match well)

i considered giving the scry banana noxtide as a secondary to mimic her hair's pink hairlights, but it didnt mesh well

3. pavitr prabhakar

i couldn't figure out how to represent pavitr's spider logo, so i just gave his scry a necklace in lieu of it

the "navy bandana" was way too big and the color didnt match, so i opted for the "sky blue fillet" to represent his headband

4. hobie brown

hobie's scry/outfit was surprisingly easy to come up with, and was the first one i did

he gets a lute because theres no guitar apparel

his patchwork secondary represents his collage art style

5. miguel o'hara

i chose banescale for miguel, as his spider-suit is so simple/streamlined that it wouldnt translate well to apparel + skeletal tert being spiky is reminiscent of his arm spikes

[insert steven universe joke here about his colors being sapphire/garnet/ruby]

6. jessica drew

i thought about representing jessica's motorcycle with the "flameforger crucible" or "igneous iguana" apparels, but they were too bulky unfortunately

vermilion skink doesnt have her exact shade of yellow, but is close enough that oilslick peacock's yellow accent color balances it out visually

7. peter b. parker

fissure secondary represents the spider web pattern on peter's spider-suit

i know his slippers are supposed to be blue, but the "mage's peony socks" looked better here

the bookworm plushie is a stand-in for mayday

if youve made it to here, feel free to comment which fandragon scry is your fav! :)

[girlkisser13]

zeus cabin headcanons

children of zeus

• over time, they develop lightning scars on their body from the sheer amount of electricity that passes through them whenever they summon lightning.

• the mortals call these "stretch marks".

• they have a hard time holding their breath for longer than a minute due to their father’s air-based nature.

• eventually, someone sets up a tent inside to make it feel less empty and uncomfortable.

• they have an intrinsic understanding of the law wherever they are and could pass a bar exam with no preparation.

• they can play electric guitars and basses without using an amp.

• they give off little shocks when they're happy.

• they have a natural charisma that draws others to them, coupled with an authoritative aura that commands respect.

• they are immune to static electricity.

• their personalities are intense, mirroring their father’s own mood swings. they are passionate and driven, but are also prone to sudden bursts of anger if things don't go their way.

• when chiron decided that the electricity bill was getting too expensive, he had the hephaestus cabin set up underground wires so they could extract electricity from their cabin.

• due to their strong personalities, they have a complex relationship with authority figures, sometimes clashing with them or struggling to fit into conventional roles.

• they’re extremely impulsive and quick to act, especially when they sense injustice or danger. their actions are often driven by a strong sense of urgency.

• a lot of them grow up to become pilots or meteorologists.

• the statue of zeus is constantly covered with blankets to prevent anyone from seeing his "hippie" face glaring down at them.

• they can move lightning-fast over short distances, becoming electricity in the process.

cabin exterior

• the cabin resembles a large, imposing greek temple. it is made of solid white marble, giving it a regal and timeless appearance. the building has a rectangular shape with a peaked roof, and it's elevated slightly above the ground, with steps leading up to the entrance, similar to ancient greek temples.

• the front of the cabin is lined with impressive, thick columns that support a triangular pediment. these columns are doric in style, which are simple yet strong, symbolizing zeus's power and authority.

• the triangular pediment above the entrance often has carvings depicting scenes associated with zeus. these include lightning bolts, eagles, and scenes of zeus sitting on his throne. the frieze running along the top of the cabin is decorated with intricate designs of mythological scenes involving zeus.

• the roof is tiled with golden shingles that catch the light, making the cabin gleam and stand out, even from a distance. it has a weather vane shaped like a lightning bolt at the top.

cabin interior

• the doorway of the their cabin is grand and imposing, with a large wooden door inlaid with lightning bolt designs. it has a high, arched entrance that makes every camper feel small as they walk in.

• the ceiling is a high dome with a large skylight in the center. the skylight is magically enchanted to always show the sky outside, whether it's day or night. during thunderstorms, the skylight shows the storm directly above, with lightning occasionally flashing across it.

• lightning bolt patterns are carved into the walls and furniture. the bedposts, chairs, and even the table have intricate designs that resemble streaks of lightning. these designs occasionally glow with a faint blue or gold light, especially during storms.

• the interior is primarily made of white marble and stone, giving the cabin a clean, powerful, and timeless feel. the floors are polished marble, and the walls have stone columns reminiscent of ancient greek temples.

• the cabin is never completely silent. there is a low, almost imperceptible rumble of thunder that can be heard, especially during quiet moments. it feels like the power of the sky is always present.

• the cabin is illuminated by electric lanterns that mimic the look of ancient greek torches. these lanterns have a bluish-white flame that flickers like lightning. they provide a soft, but sufficient light for the entire cabin.

• each bed has dark blue bedding, with gold trim and embroidery. the pillows are soft, and the headboards are engraved with thundercloud patterns. each bed is spacious and sturdy, resembling a king's bed, giving a sense of royalty.

cabin traditions

• whenever something bad happens to one of them, they kick the statue of zeus in the balls.

• to start each day with energy, the head counselor has a morning routine where they produce a loud clap of thunder to wake everyone up. it eventually becomes a competition to see who can make the loudest or most impressive thunderclap each morning.

• they take it upon themselves to predict the weather for the day, using their natural instincts and connection to the sky. they could even post a daily weather forecast outside their cabin door, which would often be surprisingly accurate and trusted by other campers..

• on the nights when the sky is clear, they hold a tradition called "sky bridge," where they create a makeshift bridge with ropes and wooden planks, connecting the cabin to a nearby high tree or structure. they use this bridge to sit and stargaze, feeling as if they're closer to the heavens.

divider by @plutism

[mercang]

[ HOBIE BROWN HEADCANONS ]

I may elaborate on some of these further in the future with drabbles/one shots. I’m not completely sure yet! Also, (!!!) just implies that it’s one of my most favorite ideas, my personal favorites. There is a reference of blk!reader here but everyone is able to interact with this for the most part.

tags: headcanons, sfw

warning(s): mentions of smoking, body mods (?) it’s just simple piercings and tattoos !

BODY MODIFICATIONS ↴

— belly button piercing (!!!)

— tongue piercing

— has definitely thought about a smiley piercing too

— multiple tattoos + some he has given himself (no matter how much you suggest that it may not be the most sterile environment)

PHYSICAL ↴

— always has cold hands, even though his body is warm

— never lets you just sit beside him while being cozy at home, he’ll set you on his lap (!!!)

— absolutely loves cuddling

— lightly rubs your back randomly for some reason

— always smells like pine trees

— really loves helping you take out protective styles (!!!)

— give him a massage after a long day/night of being Spider-Man and he’s putty in your hands (quick, ask him for a car and a kitten before he falls asleep!)

— will also massage you, but after a quick nap (the nap lasts like four hours btw)

ARTS ↴

— draws so well

— if you mention wanting a tattoo around him, he 100% wants to draw the design (!!!)

— even suggested tattooing you himself (record scratch in the distance)

— extra fabric scraps around the house because he is always making alterations to clothing + making his own patches (!!!)

— has loads of guitar picks lying around the house + tries to teach you how to play

— always humming songs that he’s obsessed with at the moment

MISCELLANEOUS ↴

— more of a cat person

— most definitely owns at least one set of brass knuckles (!!!)

— always burning something when attempting to cook

— you take turns doing each other’s nails + he gets rather picky with the color and prints/patterns…at some point it’ll be a different design on each nail

— always always always lets you do eyeliner on him (!!!)

— shotguns while smoking (!!!)

— really hates having to repeat himself

— when he gets mad (very rarely) his accent becomes even thicker, TIP? do NOT laugh, it will just make it worse.

— always calling you “love”, “darling” (amongst other things), and every once in a while “baby” ; makes you feel like you’re melting (!!!)

[honeysmoonn]

dallas winston x shy and very talented musician reader? idk, but luv ur writing 🫶🏻

LOVE SONG — dallas winston

a/n: hope you enjoyed! sorry this took so long to get out haha

Six months since you left Tulsa. Left your family. Left your friends. Left the feeling of security in the town, the closeness of everyone. You used to hate knowing everyone’s business and everyone knowing yours but now you were got it didn’t seem so bad.

Six months since you left Dallas Winston, too.

You didn’t really have to leave, of course. But you wanted to.

“I’m leaving.” You popped the news to Dallas while walking home from the bar one night. He was tipsy, you figured he wouldn’t be too angry the next day because he wouldn’t have a clear memory.

You were wrong.

Dallas stopped dead in his tracks, the hand that was holding your waist dropped. “‘Hell you mean you’re leavin’?” He questioned. At this moment you remember the ground having a particular pattern, deciding to focus your eyes there instead of Dallas own daggers.

You took a breath in, the St. Christopher hanging around your neck was now unbearably heavy. “I’m going to New York.” You could have swore you saw Dallas brow furrow, even just for a second.

That night, Dallas didn’t ask for any more of an explanation. Even if deep down he wanted you to stay, he wanted to know what he did to make you want to leave. It wasn’t his fault, none of it was. But he felt if he had just been a little nicer to you, called you a broad one less time and you would have stayed.

That night Dallas invited you back to his place. You agreed, one hand holding his the entire walk there and the other gently pulling on his St. Christopher that sat around your neck. He held your hand as he pushed past drunk patrons of Bucks bar, he held your hand up the stairs.

In his room, you could still smell the weed you smoked last time you slept over. The neon ‘open!’ sign you were convinced Dallas had bought just for you was still on. A shirt discarded on the floor, your shirt, in the same position you had left it in.

Without thinking twice you made yourself comfortable, taking off your kitten heels and tossing them into the pile of your stuff near the end of the bed. Dallas himself lost the shirt from his body and climbed into bed. You hated how domestic your life with Dallas had become, you didn’t want to leave him now. Under the sheets you felt like nothing was wrong anymore. Just you and Dallas intertwined with no worries. No words.

But both of your heads were spinning. Dallas was just brave enough to speak.

“Why are you leavin’?” His voice was eerily quiet. He never spoke this soft.

You brt your lip but he couldn’t see that, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around your warm frame. “I dunno…” You did know. “I just-“ Another pause and another breath Dallas took. “Remember when I played that song for you on my guitar?” Dallas hand twitched, he hoped he hadn’t noticed when he tightened his grip on your bicep but you did. “I wanna write music. And, I guess I think I’ll have a better chance doing that in New York.” Simple enough, right?

Dallas let out a scoff. A laugh. Of disapproval. “Doll, y’know New York is a big city, right?” You didn’t answer, instead grabbing his hand and tugging on the clunky silver ring he always wore. “You’re gonna get hurt out there.” Breath froze in your chest, much like it would on the coldest days of winter. But this time it hurt. “I mean, I ain’t wanna say it, but I… y’ know,” he shrugged.

“What? I ain’t know.”

“Don’t make me say it, doll.”

“Say what? You’re being real difficult, Dal.”

He sighed. “You’re sweet, I like you. Why not stay around here?” Even though his tone came off as rough and mad, his words danced carefully in your mind.

You frowned. He didn’t usually open up like this, you hated making him feel bad. “I mean, Tulsa isn’t that much of a tourist destination, right?” you mumbled.

His grip around you tightened. “Just… Don’t forget me when you get famous an’ all that.”

You giggled and Dallas felt his heart pound in his chest. “You know that would never happen.”

[trueebeauty]

| JJK Men’s Favorite Ways to Cherish Moments w/ You |

‣ gojo satoru - stargazing

↳ Gojo loves those rare, clear nights when the stars sparkle like diamonds. He takes you to a quiet hill, lays out a cozy blanket, and pulls you into his arms. With a playful smile, he points out constellations, weaving wild tales that make you laugh until your sides ache. Amidst the chaos of life, these peaceful moments with you keep him grounded. As the night deepens, your laughter fades into soft whispers, and his fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, promising to always keep you safe under the vast sky. Seeing the stars reflected in your eyes and knowing he’s the reason behind your smile makes him feel cherished and content.

‣ geto suguru - music 

↳ Suguru has a hidden love for music, especially when it involves you. On lazy afternoons, he’ll grab his guitar and encourage you to sing along. Your voice harmonizes with his, creating a beautiful escape from the world. Sometimes he plays just for you, the soft strumming a backdrop to the stories you share. Other times, you create shared melodies, a duet of souls connected through rhythm and verse. In these moments, he lets go of everything else and just enjoys being with you, watching you light up when you sing, knowing he’s creating these beautiful memories with you.

‣ toji fushiguro - food 

↳ Toji shows his love through food, even though he’s no expert in the kitchen. He often tries to make you breakfast, creating a mess with flour on his cheek and eggshells everywhere. Despite the chaos, his eyes light up when he finally flips a pancake perfectly. Proudly, he says, "Here, try this," and it’s all worth it. Afterward, you usually end up cuddled on the couch, laughing and enjoying the haphazardly cooked meal. You look at him with admiration and affection, even when the kitchen looks like a disaster zone because he knows he’s your hero in more ways than one.

‣ ryomen sukuna - power and pleasure 

↳ Sukuna’s idea of fun is primal and intense. He loves how you challenge him in both strength and wit. What starts as a fierce sparring session often ends with passionate embraces. He finds the mix of battle and intimacy irresistible. Afterward, as you both lay exhausted, his touch becomes tender, exploring every inch of you. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he watches you give in to the pleasure he provides, knowing only he can bring you to such heights. When you gasp his name, breathless and trembling, it reminds him that even in his dark world, there’s light and love to be found in you.

‣ kamo choso - quiet mornings 

↳ Choso treasures the simple but meaningful mornings with you. He loves waking up before the world stirs, pulling you close to feel your warmth. Sometimes, he just watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, memorizing your peaceful expression. Other times, he gently traces circles on your back, syncing with your heartbeat. These moments bring him a deep sense of contentment and a rare peace he only finds with you. When you instinctively snuggle closer in your sleep and murmur his name, his heart swells with a quiet joy he never thought possible.

‣ nanami kento - cooking 

↳ Nanami expresses his love through small, caring actions. After a long day, he finds comfort in cooking for you. You sit on the counter, sipping wine, while he moves with practiced ease, explaining dishes and sharing cooking tips. He sneaks in kisses when he thinks you’re not looking. Dinner with Nanami is more than just a meal; it’s a shared experience filled with love and comfort. Seeing the appreciation in your eyes as you enjoy the meal he prepared with such care fills him with quiet satisfaction, knowing he nourishes you in body, mind, and soul.

‣ megumi fushiguro - night walks 

↳ Megumi values the quiet moments you share. Though he’s not the most expressive, he often takes you for late-night walks, finding peace in the stillness of the night. Under the soft glow of streetlights, you talk about everything and nothing. Your presence soothes his often troubled thoughts, and your voice anchors him. Sometimes, you walk in comfortable silence, holding hands, content just being together without needing words. The way your hand fits perfectly in his grounds him in the present, away from the constant worries of his sorcerer life.

‣ itadori yuji - adventures 

↳ Yuji’s zest for life turns every day into an adventure. He loves surprising you with impromptu plans – from a sudden road trip to nowhere to building a pillow fort in the living room. His infectious enthusiasm transforms ordinary moments into cherished memories. You often find yourselves laughing until your sides hurt, playing games, or dancing around the house to his made-up tunes. On quieter days, he’s just as happy snuggling with you, sharing snacks while binge-watching your favorite shows. Sometimes, he gives you piggyback rides around the house or challenges you to silly dares that end in giggles. Yuji’s warmth and positivity create a bubble of happiness, making you forget all your worries. Seeing your eyes light up with each new adventure fills him with pure joy, and he treasures these moments because they remind him how lucky he is to have you to share life’s joys with.

[scudslut]

mornings would be slow.

calm and strangely serene, for the world you lived in. sometimes he would be there when you woke, plucking away at whatever he’d been working on, but most often he was gone. you’d feel the stirring with the first glimpses of light that passed through your curtains, and soon the heat beside you would fade.

and though he was gone without a creak on the tarnished floorboards, there was evidence of him everywhere. anywhere you looked held a memory, even if it was but a scent. arrows littered every empty surface, shreds of his clothing that once served a purpose were now made into things. dish clothes, towels, ponchos. there’d be little bouquets of dried flowers you kept from him; as bookmarks, decorations, or in jars to make teas during the late autumn afternoons. ones where he was home, sat beside you in the most comfortable silence. reading, wittling, simply being.

it was nothing grand what you shared. but it was. grand and simple and cherished.

sun would braid through his auburn hair in the summer. head laid in your lap, a blanket underneath you while you fiddled with a beaten up acoustic guitar he had found. you weren’t any good, and neither was he, but you both enjoyed the hobby. he chewed sweetgrass with his eyes closed, absorbing the little melodies you attempted to create. you’d sing if there was a breeze, quietly, allowing the wind in the trees to drown your pitch. “you should do it more often. wanna hear ya,” daryl would mumble and you’d smile soft, maybe, one day.

his hands, rough and calloused, drew shapes on your legs mindlessly, though you faintly recognized the patterns of little suns and crescent moons. sometimes you felt hearts on each of your knees and if you really focused, “i love you,” was spelt slowly on a little patch of your inner thigh.

his skin was rough compared to yours, but when he’d look up reaching forward to press his lips to yours gently, the softest skin enveloped you. slow and smooth, short and sweet, grand and so so simple.

a/n: here’s a little drabble of my inner monologue and imaginings when i listen to cannock chase and think about a life with daryl. stop waiting by cigarettes after sex was played many times while writing this too

[devilat-thedoor]

happy…..manic monday?😈

sinful jake thoughts, anyone?

he won’t put the guitar down. he won’t pay you any attention despite the way you’ve been lingering in his vicinity. you tried to coax his focus elsewhere; traipsing around in your tiny shorts and tank top. “Jakey….can you take a break for a bit?” you came up behind him, walking your fingers along his shoulders and down his chest, bending to place a soft kiss to his neck.

he pulled his hand from the strings, fitting the pick between his lips, and removed your hands from his body. when he took the pick out of his mouth, he looked over his shoulder at you, “sweetheart, i’m in deep here… go read a book or watch a movie for a little bit.”

you stomped your foot, ready to throw a tantrum, as you moved to stand in front of him. “you’ve been at this all day, Jake! i don’t wanna watch tv anymore, i wanna spend time with my fucking boyfriend!” you glared at him, hoping he’d get the hint.

“don’t be a fucking brat… i’ll give you all the attention you want when i’m finished.” he began strumming the strings again, effectively silencing you and ending the conversation. you breathed out a scoff and turned on your heel, stalking out of the room. Jake paid you no mind, his fingers steadily dancing along the frets as he picked out a haunting melody, only looking up to shake his head when he heard the bedroom door slam shut. “fucking pouty little crybaby…” he mumbled to himself with a chuckle. it didn’t take long for him to get lost in his music again, nothing on his mind other than the series of chords he was putting together…until his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text message. he placed the guitar on the floor, leaning it against his chair, to dig his cell out. “jesus christ…” his mouth hung open at the photo he’d received from you. you were laying across the bed, wearing nothing but one of his tshirts pulled up above your breasts to reveal your naked body to him. the simple text that accompanied the picture, keep playing your guitar, i’ll play by myself. he couldn’t deny the way his cock started to twitch in his jeans, but he remained composed as he typed out a response. before he had the chance to hit send, another message came through from you. a video this time. when he clicked play, he didn’t even give it five seconds before he locked his phone and stood up, bounding through the house. you could hear his footsteps nearing the bedroom, “alright, sweetheart… you got my atten- what the hell?” to his surprise the door was locked. he listened to the sounds of your soft moans through the barrier before knocking impatiently. “okay, very fucking funny. open the door, babe.”

you giggled, calling back to him, “i can’t open the door right now, baby…..i’m in deep here…” your fingers were swirling over your clit for a moment before you dipped them inside of yourself with a drawn out whine.

Jake was still knocking incessantly, “Y/N, you made your point… baby, open the door. please…” you gave in when he began jiggling the door handle and got up to flip the lock. the second he heard the click, he flung the door open and rushed at you. he scooped you up and dropped you to the bed as you squealed. “you think you’re real clever, don’t you?” he straightened up to remove his shirt before moving on to unbutton his jeans.

staring up at him, you chewed on your lip with a smirk, “i got your attention, Jake…..so yeah…. i’d say i’m pretty clever.” you slowly parted your legs, watching his gaze travel from your face to your heat.

once his jeans were off, he kneeled on the bed, settling between your legs. he started running his hands up your thighs, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. “i’d wipe that smirk off your face, sweetheart……because you’re right….” his thumbs landed on either side of pussy, spreading it open to reveal your wetness, before he began tracing light patterns over your clit, “…..you do have my attention….. but i think you’ll come to learn that patience is a virtue, love….” when his sentence concluded, his thumb moved faster.

you were writhing on the mattress, moaning out for jake to keep going while his other hand slipped down to push a finger into you. “fuck, baby…. that’s so good.” when he felt you begin to clench, he removed his finger and let his thumb slow on your clit, causing you to pick your head up, “Jake, what the fuck?” you whimpered at the loss of contact, “why’d you stop?”

“patience, sweetheart.” Jake resumed his torturous swirls, smiling to himself at how easily you melted into his touch. “do you enjoy being a brat?…..” he added two fingers this time, curling them against your gspot.

moans and whines poured from your lips but when you didn’t answer his question, he started to slow again. “Jake, please….” you pleaded for him to keep going.

he stilled his finger inside of you, “answer me… do you enjoy being a brat? throwing tantrums when you don’t get your way?” his eyes locked with yours and you shook your head as you rocked your hips against his hand. his thumb stopped completely then, “don’t lie to me, Y/N. if you wanna cum, you gotta be honest.”

you were shaking your head frantically now, “okay! alright…..fine.” your breathing was becoming heavier as you chased a release. “i won’t lie, just- baby, please don’t stop again…” desperation seeped from your voice and it made him smirk with satisfaction.

he was putting all of his focus on the sensitive bundle, but his fingers remained motionless in your cunt. “say it…..i wanna hear you admit it.”

“Jake-”

“Aht… say it, sweetheart.”

you tried to hold your ground but it was bordering the line of overstimulation and your head was starting to spin. “fuck- okay, i- jesus!” he was finger fucking you before you could get the words out, but he still expected the admission and that much was clear by the way he cocked an eyebrow at you. “j- i…..i like being a brat, okay?” the words came rushed as you fought for a breath through your impending orgasm and jake started to move his fingers with a little more intensity, “i th- shit… i throw tantrums…..i do it because- because i know….it gets under your skin…”

“good girl.” he smiled wide and proud as your eyes rolled back and immediately lowered his mouth to your pussy, rolling his tongue over your clit. it was mere moments before you had your fingers twisting through his hair and you were grinding into his face. “come on, sweetheart. you can let it go now.” with one final push of his fingers and few flicks of his tongue, you were completely coming undone, calling out his name with a shaky voice and trembling body.

your grip loosened on his hair and you let your nails scratch at his scalp as he hummed against you, bringing you back to earth from your climax. “fucking hell, Jake…” as your breathing finally evened out, you couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face when he looked up from between your thighs. “i know you said something about patience……but i don’t think i learned anything, baby.”

he met you with a challenging glare, “no? you didn’t learn?” Jake began crawling up your body, kissing his way up your torso as he stroked himself. when his face was inches above yours, he placed a single kiss to your lips before his own smirk grew wider. “maybe you’re a hands on learner, sweetheart….”

to be continued…..maybe?

tagging my babes that i think will appreciate this the most🩵

@ignite-my-fire @stardustvanfleet @jakesguitarsolo

[rekindlevn]

what are their ways of saying "i love you" without saying "i love you"?

Is…. Is this a question on the boys love languages?

*scrambles all the notes and papers together*

We are glad you asked!

Spending quality time together is how Niko is going to show you his love. He’s busy, even as a kid he was juggling school with sports and modeling professionally, so for him to out everything aside to solely focus on you … well, it’s going to be difficult, but it’s certainly worth it to him!

It could be something extravagant, like maybe he could arrange for you to travel to see him in a runway show then he could take you out for a nice dinner after (or if he had the accommodations, he’d love to cook for you even more). It could also be something as simple as sitting under your favorite tree, holding hands and just finding peace in each other. If you’re ever feeling down, or if you’re ever feeling insecure in the relationship, he’ll move heaven and earth to make time to treat you like you’re the most important person on the planet – because to him, that’s exactly what you are.

Jules is such a silly boy. Mr Never Around loves and wants to be in your orbit, spending time with you and just feeling the warmth of you with him; Whether its with physical touch or just being in the same room. (We would like to rattle him for not only hurting you but also hurting himself with his decisions but that a discussion for another time)

Oh and also, please let him know he is doing well. Like, compliment him, let him know is doing well; He really needs that in his life.

Showing his love? That’s will be all the acts of service he will do for you :3

You have a complex coffee order? He knows it off by heart, and picks one up for you everyday without you needing to ask.

Wanting some dessert? Say no more he either already has it in the kitchen ready for you, or he will order it for you without you needing to ask. Again.

You saw this really cute plush that reminds you of him and just need it but you couldn’t because reason? He will surprise you with it within days cause he knew you wanted it and… well… I think you can see the pattern (❁´◡`❁)

You want it or need it? He has it or will do it. Happily

Markus does enjoy physical touch – if at all possible, he’s going to want to have at least a hand on you at all times. But you really know he’s down bad for you when he starts giving you little gifts. The thing is that he doesn’t have a lot of money, like really very, very little money, so a gift isn’t often going to be something he buys for you. Sometimes it can be a drawing (he’s good at it!), a sketch he’s done of you or some flowers because he can’t afford to buy you any.

Sometimes it can be a song that he wrote just for you. It doesn’t have to be a song he’s written, either – he could just learn your favorite song and play that for you. If you don’t want a big performance, he wouldn’t even have to pull out the guitar either, he could just sing to you quietly while having a cuddle. Handwritten letters, too.

Yeah, you live together, but maybe some days you’ll find an envelope on your pillow after getting home from work with a letter inside that describes in detail how madly in love he is with you. So that kind of gift-giving.