#does he know i would do anything for him and his perfect shaped nose

[jkvjimin]

(141/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡

[munivrse]

cw: perv!sunghoon. sunghoon does your laundry so: panty sniffing.. and licking, possessiveness, exhibitionism, praise, overstim, hands free orgasm again (?), dry humping but solo (???), sunghoon creams his pants twice lmfaoooo what a loser.

a/n: nastiest thing i've ever written so if it isn't for you, i get it 😭

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

sunghoon knows its wrong. he knows its gross, a little fucked up but he can't help it. especially not when you ask him to wash your laundry with his to save on some money.

he couldnt help but dig through your pile, searching desperately for it and- oh! he's found it.

a worn pair of your panties. they're different than he imagined. he's spent hours thinking about it before. he thought they'd be plain, no lace, no pattern. multiple pairs but not alot of difference in color. mainly ones that match your skin tone. you wear alot of light clothing and he sees nothing when his eyes scan your body, spending more time on your ass than anything else. he knows that you dont wear low rise anything so they must be high cut? maybe hipsters? he's sure its nothing out of vanilla for you.

so why would you own a pair of white, bikini shaped, lace trim panties? this soils the picture he had of you in his head. all of his research- all of this knowledge he had of you.

he inspects the garment in his hand. this can't be yours right? sunghoon brings the thin, thin piece of clothing to his nose. it's definitely yours. he can smell the faint scent of your body wash on them.

now he's upset; nearly distraught. why would you own a pair of panties like this? who would you need to impress-

were you fucking other men? were you- sunghoons stomach drops- were you letting them taint you? a different, even more devastating thought springs forward and sunghoon is nauseous. are you not a virgin?

the sadness fades and is replaced by wild, unadulterated anger. his fist closes around the flimsy cloth. god hes upset, frustrated nearly to tears but never at you. never at you. you could never do wrong, his perfect angel. his pretty princess would never do wrong. he knows this, but he's got to take action. do something to solve this issue, make you clean again.

sunghoon brings the panties up to his nose and lets out a whimper at the scent, its tangy but theres a hint of sweetness. fuck, he's hard now. he palms the outline of his cock through his sweats; you smell so good. he knew it, knew that you'd smell good. he tracks what you eat, when you eat it, how you eat it. he makes sure to prepare good, balanced meals for you. he buys you all of your multi-vitamins, tracks the amount of water you drink to make sure you're never dehydrated. he knew you'd smell good, he made it that way.

he feels his cock leak into his underwear. he knows its wrong, knows its fucked up and dirty, but he does it anyway. his tongue pokes out to lick the center of your panties- oh. oh. his eyes roll to the back of his head. it tastes- no, no. you taste good. he feels precum dribble out of his cock and now he feels his underwear get a little damp.

he presses his palm harder against his crotch and takes another, more confident lick at the spot where your pretty pussy would've laid and now he's whining and humping into his hand like a fucking dog. he stumbles at the sensation and catches himself on a washer and he's reminded that this is a public laundromat on campus. a more secluded one, but public nonetheless. the thought of someone catching him makes his head spin.

everyone knew you were roommates. you were so, so popular amongst your peers. so sweet and kind, a smile that lights up a room, an infectious, contagious giggle. and sunghoon, who was so, so handsome but as much as he was handsome, he was shy. didn't talk much to anyone. except for you. he'd stroll with you as you bounced next to him, talking about your day as you both walked back to your dorm.

what better way to claim you than for someone to walk in and see him fucking himself and holding your panties up to his face. the thought turns him on so much that he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a strangled moan.

god he needs it. he needs to fuck you in front of the whole campus. all of those men that violated your princess parts- he needs them to watch as he stuffs his girthy length into your pussy. he wants them to watch as he stretches you out. he's sure you'd struggle against him as what he had in girth he also had in length, but he knows you'd like it. he knows you'd love being filled up by him. by him.

he's so fucking mad. how could they? he slams the fist holding your panties on the washer as he continues to fuck and grind into his hand.

fuck those men that defiled you. fuck them for touching you that way, putting their filthy hands on your precious body. he'd fix that. cleanse you. cum all over your pretty frame, cover you in it. your face, your tits, cum on and in your tight little cunt. he prays you'd let him fuck your ass too so he could fill that up as well- shit.

he feels it coming. he feels the onslaught of pleasure start to pour into his body. he wants to hold off- wants to hold his cum until he can spill it inside of you but he cant. he's gonna cream his pants like hes a teenager again.

he laps at your panties again and he cant wait to taste your pussy. he can't wait until he can eat you out for hours, have you cum on his tongue over and over and- oh-

his eyes squeeze shut again and he bites his lip to try and conceal his moans. he can't tell if its working though, his ears are ringing and the only thing he can think of is roughly humping his hand to get off.

he whines and whines and whines as he feels himself let go, ropes of cum seeping through his underwear. its spurt after spurt and now his hand is wet and its starting to stain his sweats but he cant stop. his cock has a mind of its own, twitching and jumping and fuck- he's so sensitive.

he stops cumming, stops shooting his load into his underwear. he whimpers and removes his hand from his pants but his hips are still stuttering against nothing.

god he wants to feel it. he wants to know how it'll feel when he slides his cock into your warm, tight, wet cunt. he wants to feel his balls slap against your ass from how hard he's fucking you. he wants to feel your pussy gush around him, cover his cock and balls in your juices. he hopes he can make you squirt so you can drench him in you and- no. no no no-

sunghoons knees knock together as he feels himself cum in his pants again and he might actually pass out this time. its dry, nothings coming out but he feels euphoric. his hips fuck into the air and its so fucking gross, he feels so gross and so dirty but its only for you. only for his pretty princess.

[moonstruckme]

hmmm how about james potter and shy reader’s first kiss? 💘

Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!

James Potter x shy!reader ♡ 998 words

You know James has been holding back on your account. He’s still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like they’re nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too. 

Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. He’s seemed reluctant to let you out of arm’s reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, he’d played with your fingers while you’d sat in the cinema. He’d pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times he’d wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasn’t really there. Now, as you’re walking home, he’s rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like he’s testing the waters. 

You’ve been dating for a while now. You’d wondered when it would come. 

James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. It’s not necessarily James that scares you. He’s perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly it’s humiliating. 

He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot. 

“Whoa,” he laughs. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry, I don’t know how that happened.” 

“They are your own front steps,” James points out. There’s a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. “I hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if you’re falling right outside your own home.” 

“I know.” You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he won’t believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasn’t let you go. “It’s humiliating. The neighbors will talk.” 

“Let me know if they do. I’ll set them straight.” 

You grin up at him. James’ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery. 

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. “I had a really great time.” 

“I did, too,” you reply earnestly. “Thanks for inviting me.” 

“You’re always invited, sweetheart.” His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. “See you Friday, then?” 

When you’d told James how busy you’d be this week, he’d penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think you’ll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does. 

“See you then.” You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.

You hold your breath. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

“Please.” The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his. 

The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely you’re not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you. 

You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck. James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip. 

“Easy,” he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a feather’s touch. “Let’s give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Don’t want to overwhelm the presses.” 

You’re lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips. 

“Angel, you with me?” James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. “Was that okay?” 

You hum. “You’re right,” you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. “I think we should go inside so they’re left to wonder.” 

That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when you’re forced away from him by the raucousness of it. 

“You said you were tired just a few minutes ago,” he reminds you. 

“I feel awake now.” 

He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly. 

“As much as I’d like to,” he says, “you’ve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plus—” he gives you a roguish grin “—keeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.”

You grin down at your shoes. “That’s very conniving of you.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m nefarious that way. But one more.” 

James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed. 

“See you Friday, sweetheart.” 

[lovemomhatepolice]

jude bellingham nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Oh, Jude is very adhesive after sex. He likes to cuddle with you until you both fall asleep. He places gentle kisses on your head, shoulders and arms, in fact wherever he can. He always talks to you for a long time, whether everything was okay, how you feel, if you need anything…. Well, Jude is a great guy

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jude is well aware that he is damn handsome. And not since he started being famous, oh no, Jude was already aware of that before. However, what he likes most about himself is his face, I think. He really likes the fact that he is similar with his family, which is so important to him, and he likes his looks. He is very fond of his dark brown eyes and his lips, which, according to him, have the perfect shape (to kiss you!!). As far as you are concerned, I think Jude is definitely an ass man. Of course, he loves your breasts, but your ass is definitely something Jude always looks past when he sees you. He loves to squeeze it, kiss it, everything, really. He always has his hands on her when you're somewhere together, and he's not ashamed to show it. Unfortunately, on the contrary, sometimes you have to correct him so he doesn't get caught up. And besides, he loves your whole face. He thinks everything matches perfectly - your nose size, eye color and lip shape, ay, this boy is drowning.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Jude Bellingham looks like a total creampie fan. I think he repeatedly stopped his seed at your entrance to watch it mix with your juices and slowly leave your body. But I also think he's too delicate to let his cum linger on your face, which is why he's not a fan of it. Even if you asked, there's no chance he'll let himself cum in your face

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) I think he likes it when you take the initiative. He often does a lot on his own, but the sight of you having fun with him in a way that no one else has ever done before, god. Jude is already on his knees and begging for more

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Nah, Jude is not very experienced. Well, after all, he's only 21 years old and hasn't scored any major ones on his relationship record. Therefore, everything you experience together is quite new to him. It was with you that he lost his virginity and began to discover what he likes and what he doesn't quite like But nevertheless he is a fast learner, he has become so skilled that if you met him for the first time, you would not be able to say that he is a fresher in these matters

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Jude likes to have you on top. Really, that's why the cowgirl position is just right for him. He likes you to take the initiative, however, alone from below he can also do a lot, especially since compared to him, you are in his hands like a feather. Another option is standing up - as I mentioned before, Jude is a fan of sex in the shower, so the standing option had to be practiced to perfection to make both of you comfortable and perfect

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) It depends on the moment. Jude is hardly a person who is against any jokes in bed or giggles, on the contrary, it even happens to him often. However, when your sex is heavily geared towards romance and the heat rising around your bodies, he rather tries to be serious and committed to the situation

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Jude is not completely shaved, but it is trimmed so that it is neat and not too much. He has dark curly hair, so I'm betting he has that all over his body too, so it might be hard to eliminate it. As for you, I think similarly. Either completely shaved or trimmed so that everything is neat and not too much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Bellingham can be truly romantic. He may not look like it, but he loves to plan your entire evening. First take you out for an expensive dinner with wine, then prepare you a joint bath with petals of your favorite flowers, followed by the intense sex you've both been waiting for all day. And then long conversations in bed and gentle touches...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This often happens to him - mainly due to the fact that you often don't see each other through his constant trips to matches and life in other countries. He's not averse to pornographic movies, but since you've been together, he tends not to watch them. You prefer to connect together on the webcam and experience it from a distance, or he copes by simply thinking about the fact that you could be you next to him…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Honestly, I can't find any sensible kink to match Jude. He does not seem to be a person who is drawn in any particular direction. Maybe a creampie? Hm, I think he could watch with fascination as your shared juices of fulfillment come out of you…. Oh, and combined it with breeding kink? Well, what? He's young, but he can definitely see you with a pregnant belly in your future home together in Madrid

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Shower. Jude Bellingham shouts shower. Or possibly a bathtub, but definitely something on the toilet. I honestly don't know why, but it's what I associate with so damn much. Sex after the game? In the toilet. Sex with romantic candles and rose petals? In the bathtub. Sex without any occasion? In the shower. Well, don't say no. Jude definitely looks like a man who loves to take a bath together with you, and the opportunity to get close is even better

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) After the match. I don't know why. It's just that after a match, Jude is always, and I mean always, somehow more horny, and that's when you turn him on the most. Whether it's won or lost, Jude just needs to have his girlfriend in his arms after it Or the other option that turns him on is you in mini dresses. Well begging, the boy is already on his knees in front of you (or rather, behind you too)

A/N: next part will be here soon! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

[cloudluvrrr]

fluff with obsessive (ok sounds hella creepy lmao) madly in love sunday but NOT LIKE THE YANDERE TYPE IF YK WHAT I MEAN. LIKE THE TYPE WHERE HE WILL WORSHIP THE GROUND U WALK AND THANK THE AEONS HE BREATHES THE SAME AIR AS U

basically sunday who sees you as the aeon of beauty herself

a/n: i love sunday guys hes so cute i wish he wasnt so negative and traumatized. Also idk if it was but i just made him like love bomb you but its permanent and he just loves you a lot and worships you and also general ideas 😭🙏

loving! sunday x g/n reader

Angel

virtual angel - artms

--

-hes very busy, with meetings and constantly is in his office. Reviewing plans or studying the scripture. But he never fails to send you texts

'hello angel <3'

"I will be home late, please don't stay up for me <3."

“I’ve made us restaurant reservations, so be ready when I get home <3.”

-his texts are always grammatically correct, since hes always writing to his colleagues or to other families.

-but sometimes he tried to incorporate emoticons.

“How are you my angel? :3”

“These meetings are boring. ;-;”

"Hello darling, I bought take out! o((>ω< ))o"

-he’s so cute

-but he often checks in when he has a chance too, and often responds quickly. And always ends his message with a heart.

-when speaking of you or to you he smiles with his eyes closed. He will find any excuse to talk about you

-and he’ll likely bring your flowers after a long day, as an apology for taking too long.

-taking you to his 'family' dinners, and parties.

-and help you dress up and even put on your makeup, jewelry, and help you with your zipper/tie/buttons.

-kissing your cheek, and shoulder as he does. Whispering sweet things in your ear.

-he'll always have things for you incase of an emergency as well, if you find yourself with a spill or your shoes are hurting. He'll tell his assistant to bring you a new pair and escort you to a private room.

-during parties he'll drag you away, to walk around just the two of you

—

Your sitting on the couch on your phone, reading the latest news before your attention is turned to the door opening. Revealing Sunday as he carried a small bouquet of flowers “I apologize the florist didn’t have any that were bigger my love” he began as he closed the door “I’ll buy you bigger ones next time”

"you and your gifts for me sunday" you spoke taking the flowers from him and arranging them. "I love giving you things, I have money to throw around why not spend it on my lovely fiance" he replied playing with your hair, and burying his nose into your collarbone "you're so wonderful... " he uttered his hands gently rubbing your waist "so perfect.. I love you very much you know"

--

-Sunday only works during the week, on weekends he's all yours.

-you both wake up late in his expensive bed, he'll be all over you in the morning whispering sweet nothings.

-he'll make breakfast, whatever you want he'll make.

-Making a plan of what you want and organize the day to fit your schedule. Ordering his driver around and having a private shopping day

-giving anyone a look if they look at your a little weird

-buying you anything and everything 'I dont have any other use for my credits' he'd say as he placed another ring on your finger.

--

"Sunday I can make pancakes" you huff trying to take the spatula from his thin fingers

"You work too hard, It time for me to pamper you" he said slyly, bringing up your hand and kissing your knuckles. "You do that every week"

"oh do I? I guess i forget" he chuckles flipping the pancakes.

"Would you like bacon with that my love?"

--

-you spend weekends together, in restaurants or shopping.

-or just at home lazing around, watching tv, scrolling through social medias or just petting his wings.

-he spoils you in every shape and form.

-buying you earrings, rings, necklaces and all kinds of stuff that'll make you happy

--

"this looks lovely on you doesn't it" he said pulling out a frilly shirt, with a gentle smile. "Sunday I have that one in 3 colors"

"it looks so beautiful on you why not have one more" he said putting up again your torso "its on sale as well" he added placing it on the overfilled basket

--

- He'll try to hide his stress and his own emotions from you, in an effort to not affect you.

-sometimes he'll open up about his past if hes tipsy enough, his wing piercings, his clipped wing on his torso, his trauma with the family, loosing his mother.

-especially when its something with that gopher fuck gopher wood

-you could tell when he was anxious, he would touch his piercing on his wing or play with his gloves

-that and he'll be spacing out during dinner

--

"did something happen a work" you asked taking his hand from his wing. "Nothing to worry your pretty head about" he said calmly kissing your hand, and smiling. "your sure.. you seem antsy" you insist "Just a bit antsy for the festival.. Hoping everything will be perfect, especially you. We have to find a new outfit for you don't we?"

--

-he was always a smooth talker and manipulative, hes able to easily do it when your worried as well.

-he does it so you dont think about it too much, as well as using gifts to lead you away from the conversation

-he doesn't like manipulating his love he'll avoid it, but its so you dont ask too many questions.

--

"I love you, you know that" he said not looking up from his desk, as he spoke to you over the phone "I know that.. I'm just worried you know, you haven't taken any days off this week." you vocalized as he continues his paper work "I'll make us reservations at your favorite restaurant" he suggests finally picking up the phone

"Sunday.. I just want to know you're okay"

"I am my angel, please stop worrying we'll see eachother at dinner. I love you, alright? I love you.. very much" he murmured before hanging up. His mind had many thoughts but you were always on top, he smiled to himself as he looked as the many photos of you on his desk.

--

Sunday loves you very much, his only regret it not showing it more. As he fell from the penacony theatre, his eyes following the horizon as he envisioned your smile. The only thing giving him hope, that he'll survive this fall.

-

STREAAM TTYL BY LOOSEMBLE GUYSYY

also kinda got carried away 😔😔

-- navi >.<

[luveline]

Can I request just Peter and shy!reader cuddling and stuff after a long day (after r having a long day or after peters spidey stuff whichever) ❤️

thank you for your request! tasm!peter parker x fem!reader, 1k

It feels like Peter's been gone for a long, long time when he finally comes home. Hair whipped every which way from swinging, his cheeks kissed by cold, nose bitten and pink, he drops his keys by the door and sweeps you up into his impossibly strong arms. 

You'd usually laugh at the sudden weightlessness, but his touch summons a lump in your throat, the thrumming feeling of missing him alive and in your hands. You work them around his shoulders. 

"You had a bad day?" he asks. You don't know how he knows, but he does. 

"I just needed to see you," you say, embarrassed by the strength of your feelings. 

Peter walks you backwards and you do laugh, then, the rigidness of your emotion warmed into softness by his arms around you and his easy smile. Peter dunks you down onto your L-shaped couch so you're flat on your back with your legs propped up and isn't shy about laying on top of you, the firm muscle of his thigh slotting between your softer ones, his hands moving to frame your face. 

He holds your cheeks for a second, decides he actually can't deal with the weight of his bag still on his shoulders or the jacket that haphazardly hides his suit and shrugs both off, and then holds your face again. 

"You're warm," he says. 

"You're cold," you say, turning your cheek into his hand, your head smushed up against the couch cushions. 

You close your eyes as he gets comfortable, content to spend long, slow minutes in the sanctuary of his arms, knowing he'll let you stay here however long you need to. You think you could commit to the couch for the remainder of your life and Peter would spend the rest of his days bringing you trinkets and offering to give you sponge baths. It's a preposterous thought based on an absolute truth; Peter would do anything for you. You'd do anything for him. 

You curl your arms around the broad, muscled stretch of his back, fingertips tripping over the wrinkles in his shirt, nose sniffing indulgently at his hair. 

"I needed to see you, too," he says into your neck. He speaks quietly, but not for the sake of any concerns. There's no need for privacy, and no shame in the admission. "Day's perfect now."

It's such a him thing to say. 

After another handful of quiet minutes, Peter works it around so he's the one being weighed down, squeezing between you and the couch armrest and easing you effortlessly onto his chest. You throw a leg over his thigh, curl an arm around his waist. He's not as cold anymore, but you rub his arm in a steadying back and forth until you've made your way to his fingers. They're still pretty cold —you pull his hand to your mouth and blow warm air at his fingertips until they're pink rather than blue.

Peter noses your hairline affectionately. "You're quiet today. More than usual," he says. "Should I be concerned?" 

"No," you murmur, rubbing his knuckles against your forehead for no good reason. It feels nice. After less than half a second, he does it of his own accord. 

Peter pushes your head back gently and starts to kiss you. Your forehead from end to end, the bridge of your nose, the tip. You shiver happily at the feeling and tilt your chin up for a proper kiss, though that happiness quickly melds to embarrassment when he laughs against your lips. I know what you want, his laugh says.

And even though he's right, even though it's obvious, it's raw to be caught wanting. He knows how much you want him in any and all capacity, and that's scary. 

You'd pull away if you thought Peter didn't know how you felt; you trust him completely. He can kiss you sick, for all you care. 

Peter doesn't kiss you for long, resting his forehead against your jaw, hand at the back of your neck to hold you where he wants you.

"Put your head back," he murmurs, faux-thoughtful, "I wanna give you a better kiss." 

"You want to give me a bruise," you murmur back. 

He dips in to kiss your neck softly. "Not true," he says, his bottom lip tickling you as he exhales. 

You lean back and raise your shoulder to push him away. You trust him, you love him, but if he gives you a hickey tonight you won't be able to look at him without a hot flush. You're too tired for anything amorous. 

Peter doesn't hold it against you. If anything, he does the opposite, rubbing your aching shoulders with a big, flat palm, like he's saying sorry. It's unnecessary. 

"I love you," you say. 

"I know," he says, giving you a short pat between shoulder blades. "Not as much as I love you, though, don't get it twisted." 

"I'm not getting anything twisted." 

"No?" Peter pulls you up his chest and turns his head so you can look at each other comfortably, no craned necks up or down. "Feels like you are. You think you love me more, which is scientifically improbable." 

"I didn't say that." 

"It felt like you said that." 

"I didn't say that." You glare at one another. The glares don't last long. 

You dive in for another hug, Peter tightening his grip around your waist, forearms up your back and locking you in. "This is nice," you say. 

"For you. My arm is dead." 

You giggle and shift further on top of him to alleviate the pressure on his arm. He groans like you're his very worst ailment, but when he kisses your head it's so tender you'd bet money that it left a mark, a physical actualisation of his affection. 

"Better?" he asks. 

You know what he's asking without further explanation. Do you feel better now? 

You nod against his neck, thinking you might just fall asleep in his arms. 

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part five

art by the incredibly talented @piaart!

author’s note: finally have this finished but man is it hard to be satisfied. i keep wanting to work on it and work on it but i also really wanted to get this out! also don't even know if this is good teehee. lots of awkward here. 4.9k words. part one/two/three/four. ao3 linky.

The date is going surprisingly well. You chose an Italian spot (ha!) and have had your fill of lobster ravioli and Cabernet Sauvignon all while you learned more about Dylan since he graduated high school. Went to a state school in the middle of bumblefuck, drank and drank some more, got overly into the college culture (emphasis on cult) and tipped a few cows in his time. It aligns perfectly with the slivers of information Catherine gave you through the years, though he’s mentioned nothing of the steady college girlfriend he supposedly had. Interesting. You laugh at his dumb jokes. You’re smiley. But it does feel like an act that’s partially fueled by alcohol and having someone’s attention on you.

He’s still talking but you’re admiring his small, button nose, how his brunette locks shape his face and his bright smile. You can’t help but think his face is a little too smooth, though. Has this boy been through anything meaningful? Has he suffered at all in his shiny little life? Your mind drifts back to Terzo’s rough hands and how they felt on you earlier that day. He forced you to your knees and it was clear that it wasn’t the first time he’s done so. You can still taste him on your tongue.

“You haven’t told me about your job! Aren’t you like an assistant?” Dylan snaps you out of it and you offer a shy smile.

“Yeah! I had to get out of that call center, man. It was like draining my life force. Not that this isn’t difficult but it’s nice to not be yelled at by some rando on the phone for hours a day.” You toy with your glass of wine.

“So, like what do you assist in? Is it just you?”

Huh. You’ve never really explained exactly what you do to anyone. Not even Catherine or Erica — you only really focused on Him. That won’t go over too well in this situation, will it?

“It’s just me and it’s mainly house maintenance right now. My boss’ place was a disaster when I started.” Perhaps the most watered down description of your job.

“So you’re like… you’ve cleaned it up?” There’s judgment in his voice that’s immediately sobering. He stares at you blankly.

“I guess I meant more like projects. The last big one was fixing up his yard. I had to manage the budget and scheduling of the landscapers and stuff.” Your voice is flat.

“Oh, okay gotcha.” Dylan nods and he is back to smiling. You’re seething on the inside. Was your answer acceptable to him? “What’s your boss like? Is he a guy?”

What the.

“Yeah, he’s a guy. He’s a little weird. Definitely eccentric. I’ve tried not to pry too much into his personal life, you know. Boundaries and all that, but when I first started he had me sort out some of his things and it looked like he used to be the lead singer in a band.” Another oddly phrased question. At least now you’ve been prompted to bring up the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

“Oh, shit! That sounds awesome! What band?”

Oh, do you hesitate. A long silence stretches between you two.

“I’m… I’m not sure I should say. I don’t want to blow up his spot or anything.” You’re sheepish suddenly and Dylan notices.

“Aw, come on. Who am I gonna tell?” A good question. You drum your fingers on the table, thinking about how you’ve never really told anyone who your boss actually is.

“Catherine will tell me if she finds out.” A warning, last one until the big reveal. Dylan nods enthusiastically, some of his hairs falling into his forehead. For a split second you think that maybe if you were younger with much less life experience perhaps he would be perfect for you. But you know too much and you know that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you want. “It was Ghost.”

“Oh.” He makes a face and leans back in his chair.

“Oh? Sorry, is that not impressive enough?”

“No, no. It’s still cool. They’re just… I don’t know.”

Do you continue this conversation? Do you care what he thinks? You don’t…but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What is it, Dylan? Are they lame? I’ve tried to… you know, not dig too deep into it because I feel like that would affect my professionalism.” That and you didn’t want to completely pry into the man’s life.

“Oh, I get that. Uhhh, I mean they’re not REALLY metal. They say they’re metal but they’re not so it’s just a little weird.” He shrugs and crosses his arms. You knit your brows together because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“Right. Okay.”

“Yeah, I mean, they are basically like pop. Not metal, not at all.” He sounds so impassioned and you nod along but it feels inappropriate. Why is he so pressed? It turns you off even more and you do everything in your power to get this date wrapped up. You are done drinking and you’re too full for dessert. Responses shorten and eventually you’re out front on the sidewalk waiting for an Uber. Dylan has insisted on waiting with you and hovers just a bit too closely by your side. He seems a little oblivious to how this date has gone, bless his heart.

“Well, this is me.” Awkward, so awkward. You move to get into the car but Dylan stops you by your arm and leans in for a kiss. It’s truly over before it starts, a quick peck before he pulls away with a smirk. You are dying on the inside.

“We’ll hang out again soon, yeah?”

“Sure. Yes.” You lie and hurry into the Uber, wanting nothing more than this wretched day to finally end.

Terzo blinks awake. The cool air of the night pricks his cheeks. Leaves crunch beneath his soggy socks. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering on his thick chest hair. A robe hangs loosely from his shoulders. Terzo’s eyes drift down to his hand to see he’s wearing his black gloves with sharp, golden nails. He squints and there’s something black stuck to one of the points. Gaze drifts to where he is. His driveway. A breeze rolls by that sends shivers down his spine as his eyes focus on your car.

He’s slashed one of your tires.

Terzo cackles wildly upon this realization. This is new even for him and his weird, otherworldly tendencies. Could be straight up mental illness. He takes a few lumbering steps forward before crouching to eye the tire, surveying the damage. Completely shredded with the rim touching the ground. There’s a familiar buzzing in his skull, a buzz that he used to get while performing. How far he had fallen. Still, he’s delighted with himself. A fitting punishment for the way you crushed him earlier. What hubris you had for leaving your car on his property. Rage shoots through him for a quick moment, the thought of you spending the night with your date crossing his mind. Would this boy drop you off in the morning? He could plan for that.

In his fits of unsatisfying sleep, ideas for being cruel sprang to his mind. He’s settled on ignoring you for most of tomorrow, to have you toil away waiting for any kind of attention but to no avail. Terzo would be watching you the whole day, of course, hidden away in dark corners and peering down from atop the grand staircase. He has always been the best at sneaking around undetected out of all of his brothers, having avoided so many moments where his father could have reamed him out due to this expertise. Primo and Secondo weren’t so lucky.

Sharp pang in his chest from thinking about them.

No, no. He must focus on you. He pushes the thoughts back to the void. You’ll be trapped here at the end of your workday because of this, wouldn’t you? That’s when he’ll reveal himself. He’ll torture you. Tease the information of your date out of you.

How well could it have gone when you are so devoted to him?

The house is cold without him, a shiver running down your spine every time you found yourself in a dark corridor. You try to keep your thoughts to a minimum and are somewhat thankful that the contractor was able to come today. He’s a quiet man but seems to enjoy your cheerfulness which breathes life into an otherwise miserable day. Between directions and answering questions, you would wander the first floor and hover by the stairs, listening for any signs of life only to hear silence. The last time you saw him flits through your mind — the pressure of the hand on your neck that forced you to the ground seconds after he angrily spat in your face seconds after he kissed you. What the hell. You should be furious at him for treating you that way, for leaping over the carefully placed boundaries the two of you have been dancing around for weeks.

But instead you sigh dreamily. You burn for him. Cheeks grow hot just from thinking about his rough hands on you. You hope he’s okay. And you’re sure he is, he’s a big boy.

The fact that you’re more worried about his feelings than you are about potentially losing your job over this is not lost on you. You’ve lived in constant fear of getting fired over the smallest mistakes since the start of this job but you are oddly calm about this situation. This feels like a natural progression. There was going to be a time where you had to confront this strange connection and you would rather it happen sooner rather than later with the way things have been going. As painful as it would be (emotionally AND financially) to say goodbye to him maybe it would be best for it be sooner rather than later.

The day goes by at a painfully slow pace with no sign of him. Anxiety builds and builds as you watch your clock tick down on your phone. You’ve taken to painstakingly wiping down every single mirror on the first floor (there is an absurd amount of them) because it takes up time and gives you something to focus one. After a while interacting with the contractor becomes painful for you, too heightened to be able to function in a normal social setting. You send him home early with a smile, being Friday and all, and you continue carrying out your mirror mission. This takes you to around 4:30 at which point you say “fuck it” and decide it’s time for bed! What is the point of even being here anymore when you could be under your comforter with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream as you ponder your existence?

It was an easy decision.

You meander out the front door, making sure not to slam it shut but have it at least be somewhat loud to announce your exit. Yes, you are stooping that low. A quick wave of relief washes over you because you made it. The day is over and while the issue looms you are at least out of his domain. Car keys jingle in your pocket. You make quick work of the walk from the porch to your car until the state of your tire stops you in your tracks.

“Oh my god!” You’re in disbelief. It’s like an animal chewed through the rubber. Your rim is on the ground. Tears start to well up in your eyes. This is it. This is the thing that’s pushed you over the edge today. A frustrated screech bubbles up your chest.

“Come back inside.”

You freeze as soon as you hear his voice. Spinning on heel, you turn to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a column on the porch. His dress shirt is the darkest black you’ve ever seen, partially unbuttoned to show off thick chest hair and cut slacks show off his strong thighs. Did he get dressed up for you? His paint is crisp and hair is slicked back neatly. Fuck, he looks good*.*

“I can get an Uber?” A question as if you’re asking him permission, taking a few tentative steps towards him.

“Hmmm. No. I’ll call you a driver.” A rough response but you can’t help but feel warmth blossom in the pit of your stomach. “Get back inside.” Terzo growls, his gaze stern and pointed. He leaves you alone in his front yard. You feel silly by how hard your heart hammers in your chest but this is what you’ve been wanting all day. A moment passes by and you work up your courage to go inside and take your punishment. Thoughts of your shredded tire fade.

You walk inside the foyer and follow the sound of clinking glasses, finding him at the bar in the den. Terzo’s gaze falls to you then he directs you to the couch with his eyes. You silently follow the order and sit on one of the couch cushions furthest away from him. There’s a lump in your throat, fidgeting with your hands as you wait for him to join you. Eventually he turns around to face you with two drinks in his hand, one a red martini with a lime green umbrella and the other a pint full of something gross looking - not beer but still brown? His face is blank and you try to match his energy but it’s hard to keep your blush at bay. You reach out to take the martini from him but he pulls it back out of your grasp and instead presses the pint into your hand. The smell fills your nostrils: whiskey. Yuck. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on the other side of the couch, allowing for plenty of space between you two.

“You’ve called the driver already, right?”

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes but you’re still not sure you believe him.

Terzo’s arm stretches across the back of the couch, gloves just brushing your shoulder. Your grip on your whiskey tightens. This isn’t his usual charming aloofness, there’s something cold and cruel bubbling beneath the surface. Still, you want nothing more than to speak to him, even if he’s obviously pissed at you. He lifts his other hand up to his face, admiring the sharp golden nails adorned to his leather gloves. Eyes slowly drag from them to settle on you, gaze so piercing and yet uninterested in you.

“So, you had him pick you up here, si?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Drink.” He points at your glass and narrows his eyes. Not playing around. You do as he says and take a sip. “Keep drinking.” Lip twitches in a faint show of satisfaction as you bring the glass up back to your lips and take a deep gulp. There’s delight in his eyes and you’re more than happy to play the game just to see more of it. Your eyes twitch and you cough once you set the glass, the whiskey burns your throat.

“It was convenient for him.” Words are rough from the sting of alcohol.

“Ohh, was it now?” Terzo growls and digs his nails into the couch, tearing into the fabric. The sound gives you goosebumps. You open your mouth but he’s too quick. “Finish your drink.” He snaps, daggers for eyes that sends a chill down your spine. You swallow thickly and toy with your glass with the tips of your fingers before bringing it back up to your lips. Head tips back, the room swirls and you swallow down the rest of the liquid.

“Gross. Ugh.” Grimacing as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s less of a drive for him and I’m a pushover, okay?” You sigh, only partially joking. His eyes noticeably soften. You sink deeper into the cushion. “I said yes to this date because it was with my best friend’s older brother who I’ve known forever and I’ve always had a crush on him.” Terzo’s fingers shift from the couch to your shoulder, his nails just short of tearing through your shirt, his anger coming back up to a simmer just below the surface, but you continue on unafraid.

“I had to see what would happen. You have to understand… you build the thing up in your head as something perfect and special but then when you actually actually experience it…” You deflate and you eyes wander away from him, wanting to look anywhere else. “It’s never as good as you imagined it. Plus, he was a garbage kisser.” You immediately regret the words as soon as you say them. They hang heavy in the air and the air catches in your lungs. You feel him shift on the couch but you can’t bring yourself to look until his his hand curls around by back of your neck and forces you to look at him. Eyes sharp like knives.

“You let him kiss you.” A statement, not a question. Terzo makes you watch as he slinks closer to you. There’s like a current coming off of him right now that has you paralyzed even though you so badly want to protest. You whimper, words getting caught in your throat as he reaches for you. He grabs you by your waist with the tips of his claws poking against your skin, that delicious danger teasing you as always. “How did it compare?” Terzo trills, a charming smile with vicious edge. Hoo boy. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“It didn’t compare at all.” You whisper as you try to sink as far into the couch as possible. Not because you don’t want to be close to him but you’re confused. Everything about this feels like a trap, like one wrong answer could set him alight but you’re not exactly fighting it. Instincts are telling you to run but you stay exactly where you are. Terzo’s hand drift up your sides, suggestively squeezing you in all the right places until he’s holding you by your shoulders. He’s smiling wider than before and there’s glee in his eyes — he’s pleased with you. A torrent of heat shoots through your core. He doesn’t say anything, merely taking in your reactions to his touches. His finger tips glide across your top, nearly clipping right through it until his hands settle around your throat. He squeezes just enough to make you gasp for air, then leans in to you, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel his hot breath on your lips.

Tease.

“I could hurt you.” Terzo muses against your lips, lashes fluttering and eyes wide. There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. Silence passes comfortably between the both of you as you take in each other’s breaths and warmth.

“I know. I’m… afraid of that. But it’s why I’m here.” You feel drunk, the words just tumbling out of you but you don’t care anymore. He is so close to kissing you that you can nearly taste him but instead he pulls away with a wry smile.

“Your glass is empty.” Terzo snickers and then jumps up in a way that can only be described as cat-like, snatching the glass from your hands. You’re left hot and bothered as he turns his back to you to saunter over to the bar. Alone with your thoughts while you watch him pour you another generous whiskey. Oh no. Oh no. You can still taste it on your tongue and it is not for you. But when he turns around with the warmth and charm you’ve been wanting all doubts are gone. You’re going to be messy tonight and that’s just that. When he turns back to face you he’s at least given you half of what he did the first time, walking slowly over to where you’re sitting on the couch.

He looms over you as your eyes drift up to meet his gaze and he audibly growls. You suck in a sharp breath, your nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. Terzo lifts a hand up and brushes his thumb along your jaw before tilting your chin up. He brings the glass to your lips and tips it back. You part your lips, the whiskey burning as it spills down your throat. He continues to pour until you can’t keep up with it and it leaks out of your mouth and down your cheeks. You gasp and he flings the glass down onto the side table as he crushes his mouth against yours, unable to keep away from you any longer.

And you certainly don’t care that he all but purrs into your mouth, soft lips moving against yours. He cups your face with his gloved hands, leather thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he slips onto the couch beside you without breaking the kiss. Fingers curl around his wrist and you press in close to him, losing yourself in how he tastes. His velvety tongue probes your mouth as the kiss grows in intensity. Deep pants try to keep your feet on the ground but you’re off in space, exhaustion and comfort mixing in a way that has you floating. Terzo pulls away from the kiss and you can hardly open your eyes. He gently guides your head to his chest, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“You never called me a driver did you?”

“Oh no. Never considered it.” Terzo squeezes you in his arms.

Oh, he’s so warm. A rumbling groan falls from your lips as his wraps his arms around you, just holding you there. Your limbs relax and you sink deeper into his chest as he starts to rubs up and down your back. In that moment you know you’re a goner. A deep, sleepy sigh falls from your lips and in a matter of minutes you are out cold.

Terzo almost feels guilty for being such an ass. Almost. He feels for you, he can relate to realizing that something isn’t all it was cracked out to be. At least for you it was a childhood crush and not being raised for one person. But still, he was a tad mean wasn’t he? It was necessary and the tension… the tension had been so delicious. Watching you squirm under his intense stare. And you just did what he said, unquestioningly, even when had you drink and drink and drink. Adrenaline is pumping through him and he struggles to contain himself— he must not go any further, despite how tempted he is. He could get away with it. You’re so soft, so pliable and so wanting. Terzo can feel the heat radiating off of you, no doubt from the alcohol and your closeness. He could slip his hand between your thighs and give you exactly what you want.

But it wouldn’t be fair to you. Terzo wants you coherent and focused when he takes you. Plus you’re adorably snuggled against him right now, your soft breaths against his chest. He’s longed for this and you did not disappoint. Wait a minute. Are you sleeping? He is about to fall apart, his arms wrapping so much tighter around you. The urge to keep you safe, to keep you here and never let you leave overcomes him*.* He squeezes your hand that is clutched to his chest and then gingerly picks it up and places it back in your lap.

“Sleepy?”

You lift your heavy head to look at him and good god do you want to be asleep right now. A tender smiles breaks out across his face as he swipes some of your hair from your eyes. A stark contrast from how close he had just been to strangling you.

“Take the guest room tonight, puffetta. I will bring you some clothes.” Terzo pulls himself to his feet. “Meet you up there.” He’s so soft, so different than how torturous he was of you earlier. You’re sure he’s heard what he’s wanted to hear from you but he’s unpredictable. Something you liked about him. There’s an unknown darkness that lies beneath his charm and good looks and it calls out to you. You’ve never felt this way about anyone. How could you ever get away now?

You blink and realize that you’re alone. You’ve been alone. Oh shit. Scrambling off of the couch, you trip over your own feet with the effects of the whiskey hitting you hard.

Ah, the guest room. A cramped space with antique furniture that could use some time and attention. The overall theme of the room is… dust. You’ve brought up having the dresser refinished or even repainted and replacing the peeling wallpaper but it’s low on the list of priorities. You push the door shut and give a soft sigh of relief. Shoes come off. A lamp on the bedside table barely illuminates the room and a folded pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are waiting for you on the bed. Eyes scan over the remainder of the comforter and pillows, wondering if anyone had ever slept here. You can’t help the feeling that you’re being watched but maybe the fact that you’re about to wear your boss’ clothes isn’t meshing well with the practically decaying room.

“Whatever.” You huff to yourself and undress with the grace of a toddler, kicking your pants off and throwing your removed clothes into a pile on the ground. Sitting down on the bed, you pull up the sweatpants and they are loose as they settle around your waist. The shirt slips over your head and swallows up your upper body. Did he purposely give you his largest clothing to make you feel small? It is so cozy, though. You wrap your arms around your body and flop back onto the bed, sinking into the softness of the blankets. Comfortable heat spreads across your skin from buzz of the alcohol. Limbs go limp and your eyelids grow heavy, a deep sigh falling from your lips. Fading fast.

The piercing ring of the rotary phone cracks through the air and you jolt upright and wide awake. What the? You don’t remember seeing it when you came in and it’s not like it blends in — it’s bright red with intricate black etchings along the base and the handle of the receiver. Not a speck of dust on it. The phone rings again, somehow louder and more harmful to your ears than before. You blink and suddenly you’re standing directly in front of the dresser with one hand curled around the receiver. Heart is pounding in your chest and ears. Something is calling out to you. Answer it. Answer it. Answerit. answeritansweritansweritanswerit.

You pick up the phone to silence. Then chittering. The receiver is hot on your cheek. Something pricks your ear but you can’t pull away. There’s a squelch. A screech. More screaming. It only gets louder and louder, needles in your ears, pain shooting through your brain. You can’t breathe. You twirl the phone cord around your fingers and shuffle your bare feet against the cold floor, the only thing you’re able to get your body to do other than press the phone so hard against your head. The closer you listen to the screams the more familiar they get, growing in intensity, pain and volume. Burning, the receiver is burning now and yet you can’t move, you can’t get any relief. The phone cord is nearly completely tangled around your wrist and you’re sweating, gasping for breath, and crying without even realizing it. The screams finally subside, replaced by a cold, dead silence.

You hang up the phone.

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washes over you and you collapse onto the bed. The world spins as you sink into the soft mattress, the dial tone still echoing in your ears.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random

for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc

feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you

and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked

Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!

I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.

Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!

Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:

There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring

Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone

Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that

Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness

Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt

Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day

When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony

"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression

Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"

You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word

And bopping his nose

And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead

Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails

You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...

Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water

Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....

When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk

You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma

As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep

He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall

You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store

.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"

[panxramic]

Taking Tallulah’s hair color change and inserting as much lore as I can into it. It’s just like when she got the haircut, a feeling of brand new, of moving on and changing. I love it sm

This new island has always been a new step for her, a way for her to move on. She’s left behind old memories and pictures, forgotten letters and homes. She’s finally found herself in a family, a family she’s been dreaming and hoping of. It’s not perfect, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows but it’s HERS, this is her family. She has an older brother she’d do anything for and two dads that love her endlessly. What else could she want?

So she changes her clothes, that’s the first thing she did a while ago. She matches q!Phil’s every step. And she finds things for herself.. Her mushroom beanie is one of the first things she ever got that truly felt like her own. She was made to reflect someone else, but THIS, this is her own. This is something she liked and she wanted, not something the federation threw upon her. She finds a liking to the color purple, and with that she weaves her own clothes to match q!Phil’s. It’s a mix of the person she loves and herself. Because truly who was the person that raised her? The person that has influenced her her entire life and has helped shape who she would become? It’s always been q!Phil. And that’s reflected in her clothes.

And now on this new island she also has a new dad. q!Missa. Who didn’t hesitate to take her in and call her his own. He’s been lovely, and with him she’s nurtured that side of her that’s more artistic and more creative. She also gets to tangle more into her culture and speak Spanish more. Her features match his. They have similar noses and eyes, the same moles on their cheeks. But the one thing that always stood out about Tallulah in the family has been her hair.

Tallulah’s hair has always been brown for as long as she can remember. It's been the one feature that doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the family. qPhil and Chayanne have blonde hair, qMissa has black hair. And sometimes Chayanne’s hair also reflects that of q!Missa’s.

Tallulah’s brown hair is the final tie to her past. It’s the one thing that makes her stand out, that shows the world she was destined for somebody else. It haunts her. So… as the final piece of the puzzle… it goes from brown to black.

Her hair is that final tether, and she was ready as ever to let it go, to let go of her past and let go of that pain. She’s moving on. Her hair is as black as qMissa’s, it’s as dark as the night sky. It matches every wither rose they come across. She’s part of the death family, one look at her and you can tell where she belongs.

And she does, for the first time in her life she feels like she belongs.

It’s scary, it is. Her brown hair has been such a huge defining feature of hers for so long. The black hair is a drastic change. What is everyone else gonna say? What are they gonna think? Is it going to look good at all? Who knows, we’ll see, but she’s never been so sure of herself.

This is who Tallulah is. This is who she has become. A person weaved and influenced by those around her, the people she’s spent time with. She’s taken their details and made them her own, she’s become her own person now. No longer is she the image of someone who left her to pick up the pieces no. She’s the image of those who helped her back up, of those who cared for her and watched her grow up to become the very person we see in front of our eyes.

She’s Tallulah. She likes the color purple and she loves animals. She wants to build a sanctuary for birds. She loves her brother Chayanne and she wears her heart on her sleeve. She has black hair and a purple beanie. And she’s a part of death family.

[stargirlrchive]

late night talking ✩ jake sully

masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: soon to be dad!jake sully x female!reader, talks of pregnancy and discomfort but its so minimal, literally pure fluff babes i need to carry his babies fr

word count: 718 - short and sweet

syulang (n) - flower

comments: i hate this title w/ a passion, i feel like the vibe does not match? but whtvr, we are pushing through! <3 anyways i was in a silly goofy mood when i wrote this, like yall are gonna see what i mean lol but this can be like a prequel to this other jake fic but can also just be a standalone, kk bye! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Jake woke to the sound of your discomfort, feeling you move around in his arms as you tried to find a comfortable position. The task was proving to be impossible. You let out a long sigh, realizing there was no way you were going to be lulled to sleep again.

“What’s wrong, Syulang?”

Your eyes flew to your mates, unaware you had woken him up, “Nothing, he is just kicking so much tonight.”

Jake's hand instantly went out to sooth your belly, the bump growing beautifully everyday. He began to rub small shapes into your skin, hoping to calm his child down and ease your discomfort.

He whispered quietly to you, as if it was his biggest secret, “I wish we were Seahorses.”

Your mouth dropped in shock, that was not at all what you thought was going to leave your mates mouth. The confusion clear in your eyes, “What for?”

“Well I don’t know how true it is, but once on earth I read that male Seahorses carry the babies. I would do that for you.”

You wanted to laugh, it was fighting its way up your throat, but Jake was looking at you so seriously that you could not dare poke fun at him. His hands had made their way to your back, soothing the knots that had begun to form. “You would not last a day, JakeSully.”

You pressed a kiss to the widest part of his nose, “Besides, I should get used to it. I want more.”

“Is that so?”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands trying to massage any area of exposed skin he could find, your body relaxing into his with each swipe of his hand. “Mhm, I want three more after. He needs siblings.”

Your hand rubbed gently along your own stomach, feeling a small thump from within. “Two girls and two boys.”

“Now wouldn't that be perfect.”

He was teasing you, trying not to smile as you shuffled closer to his body. Neither of you spoke for a while, your eyes were beginning to feel heavy, begging to sleep. “You keep referring to the baby as a boy?”

You nodded absentmindedly, practically melting under his fingers. “Because he is, I can feel it.”

Jake's nose scrunched up, “Has Eywa given you a sign?”

He was teasing you again, pure amusement dancing in his eyes as you looked up at him. His hand had fallen back to your stomach, fingers treading over you with a featherlight touch. “She has actually.” You huffed in his direction, noticing his eyes dilated at the new information. “Tell me Syulang.” He was pleading, softly tapping against your belly.

Jake had already adored you beyond belief, swore the sun rose when you smiled, but when he learned you were carrying his child, he practically worshiped the floor you walked on. “Please.”

You decided to end his suffering, laying your hand above his so they both rested on your stomach. “Well-this was only a few days ago, Ma’Jake, but I had gone to the Tree of Souls, I wanted to see my mother.”

Your shoulders caved in a little, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Jake, “There were so many ancestors trying to speak to me that day, but I could not make anything out. There were too many of them.”

Your face pinched together as you recalled the events, “Then, out of nowhere I heard something so clear, only one word. It was a name.”

You nervously played with the beads that fell on Jake’s braid, “What was it, Syulang?.”

“Neteyam.”

Jake blinked rapidly, ears twitching gently. It was perfect. “Do you like it?”

He nodded, unable to form words, suddenly struck with an overwhelming amount of adoration for you. He had to blink back the happy tears that threatened to leak from his eyes.

Silence fell between the both of you, Jake’s hands only stopped moving when he heard your breath even out. “Neteyam.”

He liked the way the name rolled off his tongue, he felt a soft thud from your stomach. Letting him know his son liked it too. His eyes instantly jumped to your face, wanting to make sure you had not woken up.

You remained peacefully sleeping, not even waking as Jake shifted to lay his arm under your head.

[4pfsukuna]

i kinda wanna see some stoner suguru geto shotgunning weed with reader please (luv ur work btw)

Ahhhh omg yes yes yes

Debrief: Sugurus cant hold in his facial expression… nor can he stop stairing at your lips.

If there was one thing you knew about Suguru Geto was his ability to say anythig with his face. He could say nothings wrong but his face would tell you he hates everyone in the room and thinks theyre beneath him. He could say hes tired but you know Gojo has pushed him to his limits with his yapping and hes ready to punch him.

So when you roll up the blunt partaking in what he calls your bad habit and he calls it gross you take notice of the curiosity on his face. Hes sitting manspread, hair half bun half down fidgeting with the earing in his ear as he scowls at you.

Suguru does NOT fidget.

“Ugh, when will you be done with your silly little habit?” he asks, faux annoyance dripping into his voice but you pay it little attention as you shuffle for the lighter. If he had truly been disgusted he wouldnt be here you also knew he had a soft spot for you. Giving him a half lidded smile you move across your plush couch and closer to him slipping your legs onto his thighs.

“Do you want to try?” You smirk enjoying the way he instantly begins rubbing on your legs. Taking a hit you tilt your head to the side before letting some smoke out your mouth as you inhale it back through your nose his eyes captivated by the trick.

“You are a bad influence” he scoffs pretending to adjust his royal blue kimono but you knew it had been prim proper and perfect since he was stiff as a board and hadnt moved more than an inch since you began rolling.

“Says the cult leader” you smirk after fully exhaling the smoke spreading between the two of you. He returns his own smirk proud of his little cult. While the two of you stood on opposite sides of the line there were certain things he couldn't give up… you being the certain things. So about 5 times a week he found himself in your loft apartment listening to anything you'd say, anything you wanted to talk about… any music you wanted to play.

He was hooked.

“We aren't a cult, were a prestige group of people who see things differently than others and i have to lead them in the right direction even if some of them are filthy little monke—“ he stops when he sees the pointed look you send him. After explaining the history of why calling people monkeys specifically black people and why it was offensive even just saying it around you he dialed back on the word using troglodyte instead.

“So a cult?” You giggle, placing it between your lips and inhaling, ignoring the way your lip gloss sticks to the tip and glad it was yours not needing to share or hear complaints about it being sticky.

He goes to snap back when you release smoke through your mouth inhaling in your nose at the same time and he’s slightly mesmerized watching as your eyes become lidded.

“Suguru you ever smoked before?” You ask ashing the tip on the crown shaped ash tray that you made in a pottery class with a few of your girl friends.

“Why would i indulge in something so…” he trails off hands running down your legs again as he takes his focus off of you. Your brow quirks at him and he hates the way your lip gloss is coming off he loves watching your shiny glosd covered lips with the 5% tint you talk about.

“Because you’re so uptight and you need to chill plus it’s hot. If you don’t like it i won’t force you but to judge something without trying it is so… lame” you giggle unable to find another word as you take a puff this time blowing o’s and he’s fully intrigued maybe more so in the shape of your lips than anything plus he could think of more interesting things for you to do with your mouth.

“…Fine” he huffs after a moment and you sit up with a wicked smile before crawling directly into his lap fingers going to his scalp.

“Comfortable sweetheart?” He teases as his hands instantly found your waist holding you stable and you smile as you press your lips against his he instantly melts into it.

Your relationship never really discussed other than the fact that the two of you were best friends who fooled around from time to time so the kiss had his mind more hazy than any blunt possibly could.

“Always am in your lap” you smile pulling back holding his jaw in your small hands the acrylic nails painted his favorite color resting softly on his jawline. 

“Just inhale normally” you guide him watching as his face twist into confusion while you take another hit of the blunt. You nearly giggle before pulling his lips close enough to kiss but right before you do you blow the smoke in his mouth sealing it with a soft peck.

He inhales and holds it… the way hes been watching you do before letting it out through his nose instantly going into a coughing fit as he rubs his nose.

“Suguru!” You giggle tossing your head back oh he definitely had been paying attention but he was trying to do advanced tricks when he was just on a beginners level. It was still hot though…

“Do it again” he squeezes your thighs with a coy smile tilting his head as he takes the bun out of his hair letting his dark tendrils fall around his face. 

You hum before taking another hit inhaling so he doesnt get as much smoke this time before repeating the action and this time he inhales pressing his lips against yours holding your head in place. He sucks on your bottom lip before pulling back letting the smoke out.

After repeating the action two more times you notice through the haziness of the room his eyes never leave yours in fact, they become lidded. His body is warm though he feels so warm and fuzzy and tender and wow had your brown thighs always been this soft and smooth? Your curls were also so pretty the way they cascade down to your shoulders and sit and he determined at this moment this was his favorite hairstyle on you.

“You’re so fucking pretty sweetheart” he grins moving your curls out of your face leaving kisses all around it making you giggle as the soft music,doja cat, plays through the speakers.

“You're just high” you give him a lopsided grin pushing his hair out of his face so you could get a better view unaware of how much he likes the contact.

You two had always flirted with another kissed once or twice but never taken it further. Was it fear of taking the next step? Neither of you are sure but you enjoy sitting in his lap as much as he enjoys having you there playing in his hair everything felt so heightened. When you go to remove your hands just to ash he lets out a discontent noise instantly reaching out for your hand.

“I had no idea you were sooo needy, Suguru” you teased with a long sultry blink and damn he had no idea you were this…ethereal.

He's in awe at your thick curls that rest right under your shoulder, your big glossy eyes… your thick lips that he can't help but to stare at. Shit, he licks his lips watching yours intently until he notices they are moving.

Shit, you were talking.

“—and that's how I know aliens are real” and he's sure even if he had been paying attention he would still be lost. Lost in your beauty… he's glad he didn't say that corny shit out loud.

“I'm not sure about aliens but i know goddesses are” he tells you and you gasp adjusting yourself in his lap he says it with such certainty you miss that he's actually flirting with you.

A lazy smirk builds on his lips as he licks them again and you playfully punch his shoulder.

“Seriously…there's one in my lap. I know for sure. She has the power of seduction… and manipulation. I'd do anything she ask of me. All she has to do is bat those pretty long lashes at me and that's all it takes. Some people think its her beauty and others think its her magical weed— i mean herbs” he corrects as he rambles his whole conspiracy theory about you hands running over your back down to your hips stopping to squeeze at your thighs before going back up.

“I—“ he cuts you off using his pointer finger to raise your chin up to him, placing his lips on yours softly leaving pecks testing the waters until he's sure and then he's kissing you feverishly like your lips were the cure to his dry mouth.

“Shotgun again… i like the feeling of your lips on mine” he tells you leaning back with his hands behind his head and he manspreads a bit more making your mouth dry for an entirely different reason. 

“And then we can go get food, m’ starving” he mumbles, closing his eyes.

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

i'm grateful you're my daughter more than anything

Post 6x09, Runaan finds Rayla as she takes care of Callum. She's changed, and he couldn't be a prouder father.

Felt cute might put up on ao3 later :b

The first moment they had alone was in the dead of the night, moon high above the Nexus. It felt fitting, almost full-circle.

On his way down the hall to the library, to get parchment to send a letter to Ethari explaining what could never truly be explained, at least not fully, Runaan spotted Rayla slipping down the hall, footsteps light and quick as a true assassin's, despite how opposite of one she was, a steaming teacup on a little plate in her hands.

She looked up when she heard him, smiling a little as her low ponytail swung. "Runaan. ...Hey." She cleared her throat. "How- how are you feeling?"

He shrugged in the enormously oversized nightshirt the lumberjack human, Allen, had lent him. It was off-putting, being out of his form-fitting, safe garb, especially in this strange, unknown place he should very well have felt relaxed in- a full moon, at the Moon Nexus, but all Runaan could feel was... odd. "As good as one can, I suppose. How are you, though? How is your human? Clem- Camel? Stop me when I get it right-"

She laughed, and it wasn't a snarky one he'd grown so accustomed to. "Callum." A smile ticked her lips upwards at his name. "His name's Callum. And he's-" Rayla looked away to the wall, the little table she elected to set the tea down on, anywhere but him. "He's okay. I think. Mostly in shock. But he'll get through it." The unspoken words hung in the air, a truth both of them hated knowing: What other choice does he have?

"He's got you," Runaan offered, drawing closer. "That's pretty damn good."

She laughed again, a real, merry one, despite the bitter undertones. "Yeah. Some cuddles and tea are all I can do until morning. Bright and early, we go to Katolis." She made a face, and at least that was the same- her utter hatred of mornings.

Just like that, Runaan found himself relaxing just a little more into her presence. No longer a little girl he felt the need to protect- Well, she would always be that, his beloved daughter once he started acting like it, but someone he trusted to have his back. Even with how much she'd changed, not everything had.

"I will be up with the sun," he promised, and she looked away. That had just been one more thing setting her apart from the rest back at the Silvergrove, during training: her adamant refusal to awaken at the crack of dawn for early-morning runs and sparring.

Good. Please, let her never be like the Silvergrove, Runaan prayed now, just as he had so many moons ago with Ethari after Lain and Tiadrin left. Let her never have the hardened heart of an assassin, the only ones the community would spare the time of day. She had an out, and one look at her and Callum was enough for Runaan to know that she'd take it and never look back.

"Well, I should get this to Callum," Rayla said awkwardly, stilted, moving to take the cup, but Runaan stopped her with a gentle touch to her wrist. "Rayla, wait." Gentle, the way he'd be with Ethari. Because this was his daughter, not a member of his troupe or someone under his jurisdiction. His family.

She pursed her lips slightly and shook her loose bangs out of her eyes, and Runaan couldn't help but remember back to her parents. She was the perfect combination of them, with Lain's braids and horns, Tiadrin's nose and face shape, and her lavender eyes unique only to her. Setting her apart. "Yeah?"

He drew his hand back. "I've never seen you like this," he said, admittedly curiously.

Rayla tilted her head, questioning kindly rather than the abrasive, aggressive way she'd always done before. "Like what?"

"Giving," Runaan said, because that was the first word that came to him. Rayla had always been kind and generous and loving, no matter how she'd hated to show it. "Kind. Loving. Happy."

She took a hesitant step closer, reaching to rest her gentle, small hand on his upper arm, blinking furiously.

"It's a good look on you." He blinked his own tears away as she bit back a sob-ridden laugh. "The best one."

Rayla ducked her head, bangs swinging with the motion. "Thank you. That... It means a lot. So much."

Runaan clasped her hands, drinking the sight of his daughter in. So small physically, but larger than life. So, so loved and gorgeous, inside and out, and he was sure her human made sure she knew it, too.

"You have a beautiful heart, Rayla," he said eventually, softly. "The most gorgeous I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. My worst regret is trying to burn it away instead of nurturing it. And for that..." A hand found its way to lay over his heart, bringing a sniffling Rayla’s with it. "I am truly sorry."

"Runaan..." She shook her head, reaching up to wipe away his tears, and they were the softest fingertips Runaan could remember, his own and Ethari's so calloused and rough. And here was Rayla, giving and gentle. The daughter he'd always dreamed of but never deserved. "Don't," she said firmly. "It was my choice. My choices. I had to find my way here on my own. In the end..." She glanced back down the hall, to the closed door that the boy she loved more than life rested behind. "I like where it got me. I'm glad I'm here."

"Rayla..." Runaan tucked her hair behind her ears, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't know what it means to you, but I am so proud of you. I love you, Little Blade. You are my daughter. I only hope you'll let me be your father."

Rayla threw her arms around him, sending him stumbling back in shock, immediately holding her back. "Of course. I'd forgiven you a long time ago, Runaan. I'm so glad you're my father. You always will be. I love you."

And he'd already said it tonight, but Runaan had spent far too much time hating and killing, and not nearly enough loving. So he hugged her back, whispering, "I love you, too."

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

hm what about remus lupin + sunshine x grumpy !! in which he is the grumpy ofc 🙌

Thanks for requesting angel!! Luv u <3

cw: mention of alcohol

Remus Lupin x sunshine!reader ♡ 653 words

Remus is reading his book more out of spite than interest. You’ve gone to get drinks with Sirius, removing yourself from his lap, which has put him in a worse mood than anything else all night, even the loud neighbors Sirius has invited over or the relentless congeniality that makes you incapable of not chatting up anyone who comes too close. 

When you come back you’ve brought James with you, and Remus relaxes as you situate yourself back on his lap, passing him a drink and letting him settle his free hand on your hip. He’s not sure how it happened, but Remus has found that he feels significantly better when he always has a hand on you. 

“Moony,” James greets him with a full-wattage smile, “you’re looking positively surly this evening.” 

“Her fault,” he replies, making you laugh and peck him on the cheek with your booze-sticky lips. 

“Right, of course.” James takes a sip of his own drink, sharing a look with Sirius. “Your bird’s a real menace, it’s just like her to bring down a mood.” 

“He’s just grouchy because I made him come tonight.” Your tone is teasing but there’s not a lick of real acrimony in it, and you grin when Remus squeezes your hip warningly. “But Rem, listen, it was totally worth it!” You seem to forget James and Sirius, your attention focussing solely on him. You have this way of making Remus feel like he’s standing in a pool of sunlight when you do this, looking at him all warm and bright and extra special. “You remember how I said Frank and Alice were going to get together in the next two weeks?” 

He hums in affirmation. 

“Well, guess who Sirius and I just saw making out in the kitchen?” 

Intrigue sparks in his chest, and Remus feels his brows lift. “Really?”

“Yes!” You’re thrumming with excitement, eyes gone all heart-shaped. “They’re so perfect for each other, I knew it would happen!” 

He rubs your hip tranquilizingly before you can wind yourself up to go congratulate the happy couple or spread the news or anything else that would take you away from him. “You called it, dove.” A pause. “Does this mean we can go now?” 

Your eyes crinkle, and Remus sighs as you kiss the bridge of his nose, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “We’ve only been here an hour,” you say into his hair, “but we’ll go soon, I promise. I’ll make that nighttime tea you like, and we’ll have a nice, long cuddle before bed.” 

You’re so good to him it’s impossible to truly deny you anything, but Remus turns his head to nip at the skin of your neck anyway. No one can see his smile when you squeal and clutch at his shoulders, giggling. 

“I’m offended you want to leave so badly, Moony,” says Sirius. “What’s so awful about my party?” 

Remus sits up, prepared to give him an extensive list, but you peck your boyfriend sweetly on the lips, pacifying him. 

“Nothing,” you tell Sirius, directing your smile his way. An irrational sort of jealousy rears its head in Remus’ chest. “It’s a great party! Your new neighbors are awesome, by the way.” Remus knows you really mean it, despite how those neighbors came in, drank half the liquor, and have yet to lower their voices since it entered their systems. You’re infinitely kinder than he is. “They’re so funny! I’m sure it’ll be a riot living next to them.” 

“Thank you, gorgeous,” Sirius says with a pointed look to Remus. “I really like them too, I’ll probably invite them to everything from now on.” 

Remus groans and hides his face in your chest, your body rumbling underneath him as you laugh. He feels your lips press to his hair. “Sorry, handsome,” you whisper. “I’ll make sure you never have to talk to them, yeah? I’m an excellent buffer.”

[writingoddess1125]

You Get Buggy a Corgi

Cute Headcanon

Pure Fluff

◇ Bonus has some mild sadness

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• Buggy has always wanted a Corgi- He's never talked about it but you did see he has a Corgi shaped pillow in his room that he's apparently had since he was a child-

• So you decide to get him one as a gift for his birthday.

• He always had big birthday bashes and it was the biggest party imaginable- The whole crew with more alcohol and food then a gods banquet while Buggy sat in the center jovial and proud.

• You walk over with a box in hand and carefully set it down infront of him, He raises a brow at the lack of flashy decoration on the brown box and pops open the lid with a unamused expression

• There a little head pops up and everyone stares at the happy Corgi face looking st Buggy and the blue bow around its neck

• His whole face flushes as you can quite literally see the childlike joy shine in his eyes- A bright smile on his face as he sets the puppy in his lap.

• "Her name is Guppy" You say as he mumbles the name and glances up at you. "She's mine?"

• "Yep! She's fully trained and apparently does really well on ships from what the shelter said" You say softly, but you're sure he isn't even paying attention to you as the dog seems to instantly love Buggy and scales him with her little body to press her face against his. You can quite literally see his heart melt.

• Clearly Guppy is his favorite gift ever since he doesn't pay attention to anything else accept for Guppy the rest of the night.

• You also get a special reward for bringing a wonderful gift.

• Guppy is absolutely a velcro dog- Loving to be at Buggys side 24/7 and follow him around. He gets her a red bandana so she's easy to spot at all times. If there is anything dangerous he will leave her behind but be sad about it-

• Later finds out she yaps like crazy when he's not there and cries loudly.

• She sleeps on him constantly, sometimes waking him up since she will curl directly over his face suffocating him.

• 'Mrph!- 'Upeee!!" {Guppy!} And ge carefully scoots her on the pillow next to his head so he can breath and go back to sleep-

• Guppy acts as a sort of Therapy dog for Buggy as well- When his temper or anxiety get him worked up to were he would usually destroy his room she will instead lay on his chest and force him to stay still as he Pets her and works himself down from a rage.

• She is also the perfect pillow for him to cry on. So he has pressed his face gently into her fur and just cried- Often she licks the tears away.

• Doesnt wear as heavy of makeup since he knows she likes to lick his face and doesn't want the grease paint to make her sick-

• Will also carry her- Say if the waters are too choppy but she doesn't want to be left he will just carry her like a baby to make sure she doesn't slide around or get hurt.

• If anyone- and I mean ANYONE Dares to mess with his dog he will absolutely go ape-shit... Think insulting his nose is instant death- Hurt his dog and he will come up with the worse ways to kill a person slowly-

• He probably loves Guppy more then any living person and makes sure she has a wonderful healthy life.

Bonus!-

• "Hey Buggy can I ask?- Why do you like Corgi's so much?" You ask laying next to him on the floor of his cabin. He pauses for a moment as he thinks.

• "Lots of reasons- They are soft, sweet, overall really loving and they are a little odd which I like.. But-" He pauses for a second.

• "...It's kinda weird but.. my first memory in life was of a Corgi and my mother-" He admitted and you looked surprised by this, asking for him to explain which he rolled his eyes but agreed.

• "It was the day she dropped me off at the orphanage.. She handed me that corgi pillow you see on my bed and some berry she shoved in my pockets. Telling me that she had to leave me here to make sure I was safe from bad guys-" He said calmly, but you could hear the hurt in his tone.

• "But if I was every in a situation were it was truly life or death all I had to say with three words and I'd be okay. Then she kisses my forehead and left. It's my first and last memories of her- A few years later Roger's picking me up to be his apprentice" He admitted as Guppy lived his face clearly sensing some sadness.

• "Im... I'm so sorry-.. What were the three words?" You asked now circus, but you saw the way his eyes drifted to you briefly

• "Eh- That's a story for a different time" He said with a smile and waved it off. Watching how he pet Guppy some more.

• However you laid there stewing.. 3 words?

[moronkombat]

johnny cage nsfw alphabet? love your work <3

god i love johnny. i need to write more of him

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, Johnny is feeling on top of the world. After all, he was just on top of you and you are basically his world. He likes to lounge against the headrest of the bed wit his arms behind his head and you cuddling against chest. He'll whistle and tell you how great that was and how he can't wait for the next time which may come sooner than later

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Johnny is extremely confident in his physique and appearance. He thinks all of him is perfect but if you really pressed him for an answer he would say his nose. When much younger, he was often teased about it but has come to accept it as his most attractive feature and is really proud of its shape. He'll never have work done on it

There's a lot Johnny loves about his partner but its your waist that he adores the most. He loves locking his arms around it and squeezing you. He gets a real kick out of

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

On your body. To see you so painted in his essence really gets him going. His favorite places to finish on you had got to be your face, tongue and chest. He wishes the moment of you so soaked in him can last forever. Good thing he has a camera nearby

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to film a sextape with his partner and "leak" it online. It's exhilarating to think about him fucking you in front of thousands of viewers. How jealous they will be watching him ravaging you. You're all his and no one else's. All those viewers can look but not touch

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

In terms of sex, Johnny is exceptionally experienced. He was something of a tramp during college and he's learned the arts of pleasure through and through. He does not hide that fact and is very boastful that he is a great lay. Is Johnny perhaps a bit over confident? Well maybe but he definitely makes every bedroom experience a performance to die for

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Johnny's favorite position is with your head pressed into the pillows and your ass flush against his hips. He believes he can feel himself deeper that way. Plus, Johnny loves watching your ass bounce and jiggle when he slaps it. He also loves when you ride him. Johnny smirks the entire time and just enjoys the show you give him. Sometimes he'll have one hand on your hip lazily while the other rests behind his head. He quite likes watching you come undone when fucking yourself down on him

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Extremely humorous and playful. Sometimes you can't get him to shut up with the taunts and movie quotes. Johnny especially loves bringing movie references in the bedroom. One would think that may be an odd place but Johnny's execution with them is impeccable

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well groomed but not entirely shaven. He keeps a tasteful amount of grace between his legs and a rather taunting path that begins just under his naval. He keeps that there very purposefully so he can tell his partner to follow his treasure map

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As much as Johnny can be playful he can be romantic. He knows how to wine and dine his partner and can go bit over the top with it as well. He's definitely the type to fill the room with lavish flowers and rose petals and book out a private villa for his partner. Though his playfulness never truly leaves, he makes it a bit more romantic. Johnny is very adaptable to the situations he finds himself in and to what his partner wants

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He is a deviant when it comes to masturbation. He always does it to a photo or video of you. Talks extreme filth while he pleasures himself. He says how hard he's going to fuck you or pretends you're giving him head. He can be very nasty with those words of his when stroking himself to climax.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling- Is turned on when his partner pulls his hair or laces their fingers within those dirty blond locks. He will groan and bite his lip before telling his partner how he'll have to punish them for being so naughty

Video recording- Johnny records almost every time the two of you have sex. There's either a camera set up or he's using his phone. Loves watching his cock enter you again and again through the lens of a camera. He'll watch them back with you or will have one playing while he fucks you. He just can't help himself. Johnny loves the camera whether that is behind it or in front of it

Degradation- He is downright horrid with how he can talk to his partner during sex. He'll tell you just how good you feel and call you a little whore or slut for his big and heavy cock. Gets off on talking dirty to you like nothing else

Daddy kink- This one is discovered accidentally. It was during a particularly rough love making session when he was just driving himself into you that he spontaneously commanded you to call him "daddy" and when you did, Johhny just about orgasmed right there. Now he'll use the term in and out of sex much to your embarrassment

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere in a large space, like his bedroom or living room. He enjoys using the space and fucking you in various positions all over the room. Bonus points if there is a television or a place to put on music. He'll either have one of your filmed escapades on or some loud and exciting music

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just about everything regarding his partner turns Johnny on. He is what some people call a horndog. He sees you dressed to the nines? Yeah he wants to tear off your clothes. Your in something loose and baggy? Johnny wants to sneak under those clothes with you. He finds his partner incredibly attractive and can't keep his hands off of him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Johnny is turned off indifference and disregarding him and his beliefs. Even though his ego is rather high, he appreciates when his partner supports him and believes in him. A partner that doubts him has him feeling uncomfortable

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely a receiver rather than a giver. If it were up to him, you'd be between his legs 24/7. He loves watching you choke and gag on his length while giving you backhanded playful praise

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Johnny can enjoy both without issue but prefers the intense pleasure of rough and fast sex. He just can't hold himself back when it comes to you. He wants to lay himself into you again and again and loves changing positions throughout it all

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them and will be the one to initiate them. His hands will start to roam your body while his lips find your neck. His whispers find you ear and he says could you two could sneak away for a little bit and have some good fun together. Johnny almost always convinces you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Johnny is very open to trying new things and experimenting as long as he and partner are both comfortable with it. Has a "bad" habit of seeing a trend and wanting to try it out with his partner.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Many rounds can be anticipated when tangoing in the bedroom with someone like Johnny. He's hardly satisfied with finishing once and always wants to keep going and pushing the limits of his stamina. His partner is in for a long and wild ride

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Johnny owns an arsenal of toys and readily uses them on his partner and even on himself. It wouldn't a fun experience if he and his partner kept things too vanilla

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely unfair and teasing. Johnny can't help but tease his partner and edge them repeatedly. He loves to hear them whimper and beg for him, it fuels his confidence and ego. Loves to boast about how only he can make you cum because you're his personal slut

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. He's panting, groaning, moaning and touching pure filth throughout the encounter. If Johnny is quiet then something is wrong or bothering him

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has definitely thought about having you walk around in public with a vibrator nestled inside you while he controls just how intense it is. Johnny hasn't suggested this to you yet but he his mind runs wild with the possibilities

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Johnny is fit and athletic. He is well defined in muscle tone but not carved from marble nor is his overly large. His waist his thin giving him a very delectable upside down triangle figure that he is rather proud of. His legs are the most powerful aspect about him with well toned thighs and calves. If we're talking a big more intimate, Johnny is girthy and thick. His length is just above average and it tends to curve slightly upwards with minimal visible veins

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Significantly high sex drive. If it were up to him, he'd be having sex with you all day but life doesn't allow that so he will settle for at least once day. If he goes more than a couple days he gets whiney and needy

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Johnny likes to close to his partner after sex but he doesn't fall asleep. He is actually energized despite going multiple rounds and even suggests continuing. His partner will need to tell him they need rest and he'll settle for some good cuddling