#he is just very cool and i want to wear earrings the same way that he does

[afishcalledwanda1988]

not men with earrings gender envy as in howl pendragon but men with earrings gender envy as in lou wilson

[bacchuschucklefuck]

there's no need to apologize at all, this is very very cool to read! and specifically for those assumptions too; I worked on these designs with decently specific arcs for each of the bad kids in mind, and I wanted the designs to reflect that, so the fact that you picked up on a Lot of what I meant to put in there without reading any other texts I've written for the class swap means I'm doing a good job 💖 character design enthusiast to character design enthusiast communication

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

[reyenii]

since edwin is very closed off, except for when he’s with his best friend, charles, costume designer kelli dunsmore reflected his buttoned-up mentality through his bespoke suit, complete with bowtie and collar. edwin’s outfit, along with charles’ period garb, were designed to help them stand out more in modern day port townsend. “i knew edwin would, because no one dresses like that now,” says dunsmore.

dunsmore wanted everything about charles to feel “a little bit cool and underground,” from his union jack and the who bull’s-eye patches to his checkerboard pins. his little cross earring and chain on the outside of his shirt are also meant to be homages to the ’80s.

in the show, crystal’s hero color is purple, which you’ll notice in her velvet coat and long silk letterman jacket, which dunsmore thought of as a psychic cloak with hand-embroidered patches, including the wilting rose of england.

her brown trench coat represents an explosion of everything going on in her mind. dunsmore decided the scribbled words and drawings are a result of crystal writing all over it to express her inner turmoil. there are even lyrics on there from the song she’s listening to on the tube when she meets the dead boys.

david’s connection with crystal seeps into her wardrobe, too. since david wears a flower shirt, dunsmore’s team hand-painted flowers onto crystal’s black boots. and niko is wearing a dark sweater with flowers on it when we first meet her, as an homage to crystal. the costume department also drew the same rune pattern the dead boys use to exorcise david in episode 1 onto crystal’s trench coat and on the tab of her wool bomber jacket. “so she’s always got some sort of protection,” says dunmore.

every color niko wears is inspired by what’s happening in that episode, from the green post-sprite exodus to blue when she’s feeling sad. niko only wears a white look, with nods to her japanese heritage, in the finale as a reset. the charms on her obi belt represent the colors she’s worn all season.

night nurse is someone who’s in control all the time and likes things to be in their proper place. dunsmore looked to vivienne westwood for inspiration, since everything in night nurse’s world is a bit exaggerated. (by the way, niko’s orange monochromatic look is a nod to her scenes with night nurse and night nurse’s red hair.)

since david is a demon, he finds a london boy that looks cool enough for crystal to find attractive. that meant dunsmore dressing him in a shearling jacket you’d find in “all the guy ritchie movies,” black pants and creeper shoes. the costumer’s mood board for “david the d” featured radiohead and amy winehouse and her husband blake, who often wore hats similar to the one you see david wearing in the show.

pay close attention to monty’s leather jacket and you just might spot an inlaid crow feather or two.

it’s not only esther who wears clothes with a gilt, old-gold color — cat king and night nurse also do as a nod to their villainy. (esther and cat king also have similar fur coats.) amidst her beauty, dunsmore wanted esther to be a little rough around the edges. she wears a cuff around her hand that’s adorned with a snake and a ring with teeth all around it to represent the teeth she’s collecting from all the little girls. her eye necklace is meant to be her witch pendant.

mischievous as ever, cat king has (cat) eyes everywhere and is aware of edwin’s affection for charles. so he wears charles’ socks the first time he meets edwin.

[aurorawritestoescape]

HEATWAVE || Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,5k

Summary: Joel helps you to cool down on a hot summer day. In his own way.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, horny!Joel, sweaty filthy sex, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, creampie, cum eating, fingering, praise kink, swearing, pet names (baby, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I’ve been dying of heat all week but imagining Joel railing me slightly alleviated my hardship. Hot Joel kiss to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕Hope you will enjoy this story. Love ya!❤️

same couple - HEATWAVE collection || MASTERLIST

“Don’t, Joel.”

“What?”

“Don’t touch me, please. It’s too fucking hot.”

Joel sighs and falls back on the couch as you shift away from his feet, getting comfortable as far as possible from his heat radiating body.

“Fine. Jus’ wanted to make you feel good. You’ve been snappy all day.”

“Sorry. It’s all this damn heat! I’m dying without the AC!” You groan and shake the hem of your crop top, trying to cool off just a little. You’re wearing the tiniest shorts you could find but nothing really helps when you’re dealing with a Texas summer without any conditioning.

“It’ll be fixed tomorrow, baby, don’t worry.”

“I know but… ugh!”

You throw a glance at Joel who has the most sympathetic expression on his handsome face. You also can’t deny that he looks hot like this, completely naked except for his home shorts. His broad chest, rising and falling in steady rhythm, is glistening with sweat, his thick thighs are spread and his cock is slightly tenting his only garment. You’d eat him whole if not for the fucking heat!

Torturing you even more he gives you his bedroom eyes and you bite your lip, thinking how to fuck him without touching him. Suddenly your gaze lights up.

“Oh! I know what we need!”

He raises one brow in a silent question and you start hastily explaining, at the same time grabbing your phone off the coffee table and opening a browser,

“I’m gonna look for hot weather sex positions.”

Joel chuckles and you furrow your brows at the man.

“No, don’t laugh. They minimize skin contact and should be easy on the movements. I saw an article once.”

Your pussy aches more and more the longer you watch Joel splay on the couch and you need him to be on board with your idea but he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic.

“Not sure it’ll help much but…let’s try it,” he shrugs and you beam at him before typing away.

As always when you need it the most, the internet is slow and you shake your leg, already losing patience.

In your peripheral vision you notice Joel move and your eyes shift from your phone screen to him for just a second. You do a double take when you see him pull the waistband of his shorts down, freeing his semi hard cock, as his mischievous gaze is set on you.

"What are you doing?" you groan at the sight of his big hand, wrapping around his long juicy member.

"Jus' a lil' pre-game, baby. Go on with your research."

You watch him give his manhood a few languid pumps and your mouth waters when some wetness beads on the tip. A new surge of desire burns your core and your breathing fastens. A few seconds later you remember what you were doing and turn away from the hot sight so you could return to the task at hand.

You try to open the first link but it’s loading for eternity so you close it with a curse and press the second one.

Then soft grunts reach your ear and you see Joel pleasure himself in earnest, as his cock is drooling on his veiny hand.

“Hey, wait for me, would you?” You grumble, tapping the same link three times, as if it can make it open faster.

“I’m imagining your hand doing it, sweetheart,” Joel smirks with his eyes already hazy as his palm is sliding up and down his length, thumb brushing over the tip from time to time, “or your pretty mouth, licking my cock. Oh, I bet your pussy wants some of this. She doesn’t care about the heat.”

You know he’s teasing you so you’d hurry up but the solution of your problem is so close that you can’t just stop now. So you fix your shorts that are sticking to your already wet folds and avert your eyes from your tormentor.

“Fucking cookies,” you curse, getting hotter because of the sweltering weather and also after noticing Joel buck his hips to fuck his fist better.

Finally you find an illustration of an almost contactless sex position and tilt your head, trying to understand it.

“Where’s his..? Oh! But… Nah. I’d break your dick like that.”

“We don’t want that,” Joel chuckles, his voice strained with pleasure he’s giving himself.

You’ve never seen him jerk his cock for such a long time so your gaze involuntarily shifts away from your phone again and you shamelessly stare at his hand gliding up and down his stiffness.

“We miss you,” Joel taunts you, seeing desire paint your face, and shakes his cock from side to side, spilling precum everywhere.

“Joel..” You whine and using every ounce of your will you tear your eyes away from his body and return them to the screen.

“Ok, this one is more doable. But it’ll take me forever to come like that… Oh and this… this just defies gravity.”

Giggling at the picture, you show Joel the screen and he gives you a polite smile but his half-lidded eyes tell you that he’s already deep in the ocean of lust, close to reaching his high.

Your gaze slides down to his throbbing cock, his big hand jerking it and you give up. You throw your phone back on the table and with a quiet “Fuck it,” you decide to literally fuck it. Fuck Joel.

Your man’s eyes light up as he coos at you,

“Yeah, c’mere, baby. Come sit on your popsicle.”

You laugh, climbing up the couch over his huge body and straddling his thighs. His skin is unbearably hot but your need overshadows everything.

You take his cock in your sweaty hands and purr, wetting your lips, “popsicle? shall I lick it first then?”

“Usually I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that, but…,” he says, taking in your body, wrapped in a tight crop top and little shorts. You hear him groan as you lean down to his leaking cock but then his hand on your cheek stops you, “but! I’ve been playing without you and … My cock’s ready for your sweet pussy, baby. Gimme.”

With that he shifts to the side and pulls you to lie down next to him on the couch. The warmed up surface and Joel’s huge body pressed close to you make you whine as another wave of heat hits you.

“Shh,” Joel shushes you and clumsily sits up, almost making you fall off the narrow seat.

He takes his shorts off and helps you discard your clothes as well.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, his hungry eyes travelling over your exposed body, “wanna lick you all over.”

You take a sharp breath, suffocating with lust, but then Joel does the unforgivable. He lays down on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knee, and you’re about to cry at how hot the vast expanse of his sweaty skin makes you.

“Joel!” You cry out, trying to push him off, palms braced on his chest, but the next second his lips crash against yours and he’s giving you a heady kiss which quickly makes you forget all about the heat. You’re immediately enchanted by him, his taste, his desire for you. The kiss is sloppy and messy and you cool off a little whenever your wet lips part from each other, even only for a second.

Soon sweat coats your body and Joel’s cock pulsating against your belly turns you into a desperate puddle. To get some respite from the heat, you tilt your head down and blow on your chest.

“It won’t help,” Joel murmurs, “Maybe this will.”

He hunches over you, leans down and licks a long stripe from your breast over your neck and jaw and reaches your lips and kisses you again. You hum with pleasure, noting your salty taste on his tongue and enjoying the sensation of the cooling wet path on your skin.

You’re making out for a few more seconds but the ache between your thighs makes your wriggle under him and Joel hastily lifts his torso and hovers over you, his chest inches from yours as you breathe out after this tiny relief. You glance down and see his heavy cock rest on your mound, his balls pressed to your folds, some wetness smeared on your belly where he is leaking on you. The sight makes you whine his name and reach for his big member.

It’s hot, stiff and damp when you caress it gently with your fingers and Joel’s dark eyes lower to the place where you’re making him even harder if it’s even possible.

“Put it in, sweetheart. Want you on my cock already. You’re drippin’ all over me. My balls are fuckin’ drenched.”

His Texan drawl is even more apparent when he’s so turned on and you know it’s time for him to fuck you. But he teased you so much. Why can’t you?

You throw your legs apart wider, but pressing your hips deeper into the couch, pull away from Joel’s hot crotch. You feel the air slightly cooling your sopping pussy and it feels so amazingly good, that a gasp climbs up your throat.

“Where’re you goin’, naughty girl?” Joel groans and rolls his hips against your pussy, scorching you with his heated thighs, balls and cock, making you mewl. He overplays you, making your hungry hole clench around nothing, clit twitch and you immediately bring your hand down and push his pulsating hot length into your soaked entrance. Both of you moan loudly at the anticipated sensation.

Joel drops his body on you again, holding some of his weight as he braces his forearm on the couch.

You should be uncomfortable, annoyed, hot and miserable but all you feel is his cock spreading your insides, his balls rubbing against your ass. His scent, a mixture of sweat and musk with a slight trace of his favorite piney deodorant, envelops you completely. He invades all your senses at once and you let him, welcome it with your body and soul.

“Joel,” you whisper, choking on your feelings and hugging him even closer.

“I know, baby, I love you too,” he replies, covering your whimpering mouth with his and drinking your oh’s and ah’s.

Soon he’s rolling his hips, his thrusts languid and gentle, as you’re making out, glued together by desire and love. You become one as the heat, radiating from the two of you and the sweat on your skin are mixing together and your bodies slide against each other in this lustful dance.

His cock is massaging your walls, kissing your cervix with its fat head and you glide your hands over the expense of Joel’s dewy back, shoulders and arms before they sneak down and you grab handfuls of his ass. You start grinding your pussy against his pelvic bone and coarse hair.

Suddenly Joel lifts his torso and looks at you, blown out eyes darting between yours, his hips still moving.

“You’re drownin’ my cock, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wet. My perfect pussy. Wanna see?”

After hearing your sultry ‘yeah’, Joel brings his hand to your face, brushes your lower lip with his thumb and then his palm glides down your heated body. Your skin erupts in goosebumps from the gentle contact and you whimper when he runs his fingers over your slicked up folds, spread around his fat cock.

You lift your hips chasing his touch on your clit, and he grants your wish. His index and middle finger find your hardening bud and he swirls it for a few seconds, closely watching your reaction. Your lips part and eyes flutter shut, as his cock and fingers make your pussy purr. Joel’s manhood twitches deep inside you before he pauses his thrusts into your wet heat.

Suddenly he pulls his cock out entirely.

“Joel! No!”

He tsks at you for the impatience but then his girthy length gets replaced by three of his fingers and you gasp and then moan when he begins pushing them in and out of your messy cunt, curling them to press the pleasure spot inside your core.

Joel sees how close you’re by the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your walls start squeezing his digits harder and harder. He places his thumb on your clit and pushes, sending a new wave of ecstasy to your brain and you cry out as your climax hits your sweaty body. The drops of your sweat slide down on the couch because of how hard you tremble under him and Joel watches the euphoria course through you with an adoring gaze.

“Yeah, jus’ like that. Good girl.”

When you still and open your spent eyes at him, his fingers curve inside you as he scoops your slick and cum and then pulls them out. He raises his hand and watches your creamy juices slide down his hand.

“Joel,” is all you manage to mewl, witnessing your liquid euphoria.

With his tongue peeking out, he brings his hand to your chest and paints your pebbled nipple with your wetness. Then he leans closer and blows on it and you moan at the temperature change.

“Yeah, you like it, huh? Dirty girl.”

As if confirming his words, your nipple hardens more and with a grunt Joel latches onto your breast and licks off the taste of your pussy. You whimper as another course of pleasure reignites your core.

Joel hums, enjoying the flavor of your skin, and the next moment his cock spears you in one go and he begins pounding into you, pulling his hips back fast and thrusting his throbbing manhood into your sopping pussy with hard and sharp strokes. His tongue continues dancing over your tits and you clench his curls with the last drops of strength you have in your spent body. After a few more thrusts, Joel parts from your puffy nipple and growls, still railing you.

“Fuck, baby— choke my cock again— C’mon, be a good girl—come again.”

He kisses you passionately while his hand slithers down between your bodies and he starts rubbing your clit, chanting, “One more, one more.”

In no time you’re squealing as your pussy is clamping around his cock and it sends him over the precipice. Joel breathes out a moan and his hips jerk again and again, sending rope after rope of his hot cum inside you. Your cunt keeps milking him of the last drop as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, your eyes locked with his and full of gratitude, love and euphoria.

You’re descending from your highs together, limbs tangled and bodies flush against each other. To your surprise the sweat cooling your skin and his cum seeping out of your pussy send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m cold,” you mumble into the crook of his neck.

“Really? Maybe we don’t need AC at all? I can just fuck the heat out of you?”

“Yes, we do,” you disagree, giggling.

“But I loved helping you, baby. We should reschedule the repair for next week.”

You push him off you, burning the man with a fiery gaze, “Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.”

“I’m kiddin’, sweetheart,” Joel chuckles, hugging you tight and shutting your grunts up with a kiss. A second later you feel hot all over again.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖

Same couple - HEATWAVE collection || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[writingsbychlo]

the slytherin boys + barbie

draco: pouts when you say you’ll go with pansy but also refuses to dress up as ken, or dress up in the slightest. would take you both to watch it and surprises you last minute on the day by wearing a pink t-shirt he borrowed from enzo. rolls his eyes when you get excited but is actually very happy with himself for it.

mattheo: would want to do a double feature with oppenheimer too. makes it a whole date scenario. buys all the snacks but makes you carry them in your purse. wants to dress up for oppenheimer (???) so he wears a suit and a fedora and tells you to wear a pink minidress for barbie. highkey the best dressed couple to go see the double feature, everyone comments on it and he never lets it go. (“see!! I told you it would be cool to dress up for both.”)

theo: would say he’s only dressing up if he can wear the shirtless ken in the fur coat outfit. buys the tickets and the snacks and helps you pick your outfit even if he’s still pouting because you won’t let him wear the mink coat. has the “I’m just Ken” song stuck in his head for a week after and sings it non-stop, drives everyone insane. talks in your ear all the way through but in a funny/cute way, with jokes. (I firmly believe he would do this with every movie though). orders a “I am Kenough” replica hoodie and wears it to smoke in the astronomy tower.

enzo: had a google alert set for ticket release day bought them with the intensity one would buy taylor swift concert tickets. does not care in the slightest for oppenheimer. would wear a full pink outfit with you and possibly even let you bleach his hair to be ken as long as you promised to dye it back after. (“look, cousin, now we match!”, draco refuses to speak to him for a whole week.)

tom: agrees to go and will wear one of your pink scrunchies on his wrist as a gesture of love, and it works. does, however, love your barbie outfit and makes sure to whisper some very dirty things to be sure you know. is stoically thrilled when you surprise him with oppenheimer tickets for the same day. holds your hand through barbie and kisses your knuckles occasionally. scoffs when you laugh at all the ‘typical men’ scenes (Zack Snyder cut of Justice League 💀). is deeply concerned when you play “What Was I Made For” on the way home after and immediately switches it to the “Barbie World” credit song

[murdrdocs]

I've been thinking non stop about Mike liking Abby's new daycare teacher but is too shy to do anything so Abby just casually mentions that her big brother has a crush on you and is doing weird things like checking his hair and only wearing the same pants two days in a row instead of four. So when u spill that Abby told u he doesn't know whether to be mad at her or not bc if ur wasn't for her he would have a date

I LOVEE THESE TYPES OF THINGS GN! READER

you’re sweet, patient, professional while managing to slip in some casualness to the conversations that you and mike have (short and cordial always) that make him feel like you’re more of an acquaintance and not just someone he indirectly pays.

you’re young, around his age he assumes, and he confirms his assumptions when he’s questioning abby.

“your, uh, new teacher,” he starts as he’s finishing up dinner (spaghetti again).

abby hums from behind him. “what about them?” mike turns to glance at his sister who sits on the counter, her feet thudding against the cheap cabinets with the way she kicks them.

he turns back to the stove, shrugging and scratching at his ear. “nothing i was just wondering about them. like … are they … cool?”

and mike is so glad that abby has always been the more talkative one out of the two of them because she’s immediately thrusting herself into an analysis of your quirks and how you really care about the children.

long story short, abby likes you just as much as mike does. even more, actually.

she’s always running to hug you when mike drops her off and picks her up, and he distantly wishes he could do the same. he thinks he’s playing it cool, sending you tight lipped smiles and waves that are a little too disjointed.

but abby is more perceptive than he thinks.

each time he tells himself he’s going to have an actual conversation with you. maybe mention the band tee you wear on a casual friday or ask about the song you were humming before he’d arrived. there’s intentions for him to get to know you and eventually ask you out.

but he backs out each time.

leaving abby to play matchmaker.

when mike comes in one thursday afternoon, hoodie soaked from the thunderstorm outside, he greets you and notices that your smile is a little more bashful than usual. abby is running around with her friends inside, playing an intense game of indoor freeze tag, and mike is trying to get her attention but you stop him.

“they can play for a while longer. i couldn’t let both of you go out in that storm.”

he looks out the window and notices that somehow, it’d gotten stronger.

“uh, do you want something hot to drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee?” you sound shy, maybe, but mike can't figure out why.

he's just grateful for a chance to spend time alone with you.

“coffee would be great, actually.”

you and mike end up in the kitchen of the small cafeteria, each drinking your respective drinks in silence, until you speak.

“um, i hope i’m not overstepping.” mikes ears perk up because that’s never a good start. “but abby told me that you have a crush on me. is that true?”

fucking abby.

his ears redden immediately, head dropping as he considers how to play this. but before he can even decide, you’re speaking again.

“because if so, i just want to let you know that i feel the same.”

he lifts his head too quick, a little bit of his coffee spilling out of the loaned mug with the movement. he doesn’t care about that, though, at least not immediately. instead, he focuses on you. he searches your face for a joking smile, maybe a little bit of mischief in your eyes. but there’s nothing but honesty in them.

he takes the plunge.

“would you wanna do something … sometime?” not very descriptive but you smile at him anyway.

“i would love to.”

god bless abby.

[harrysfolklore]

30th birthday

i just can’t believe harry is 30 and this is my way to cope, i hope you like this 🥲

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The calendar marked February 1st as the date, which meant that it was finally Harry's 30th birthday.

You woke up earlier than him, in order to make him his special birthday breakfast that was a tradition by now, and as you stood alone in the cooking in the kitchen, you couldn't help but reminisce about all the previous birthdays you've celebrated with Harry.

From celebrating his birthday at a restaurant with his brand new band mates and friends after a day of The X Factor rehearsals, having big parties thrown for him with celebrities in attendance, flying off to Japan to celebrate there and throwing a concert to spend his special day with his fans, you couldn't believe Harry was turning 30 and you were able to grow up by his side.

"Love, where are you?" his raspy morning voice made its way to your ears, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Over here, in the kitchen!"

You turned around to see Harry stumbling into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that you recognized as one of your favorites.

"Morning, birthday boy," you greeted him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

"Morning," he replied, his eyes still half-closed. "What's all this?" Harry gestured towards the spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon you had prepared on the table.

"It's your special birthday breakfast, as always," you pecked his lips again.

"You know, you could've woken me up with a 30 minute long blowj-"

"Harry!" you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, "Every single year, you say the same thing! When will you stop being a menace."

"Can you blame me?" Harry shrugged, "You still look as hot as you did when we first met fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen, huh?" you said, tilting your head, "How does it feel to not be a twenty something anymore? You're basically an old man now."

"I feel good, honestly," he said sincerely, his eyes locking with yours, "I mean, I'm happy and healthy, I have the job of my dreams, a family that loves me, supporting friends and the best girlfriend in the world, I'm a very lucky old man."

"You're too cute," you kissed him again, "Now eat your breakfast, we have a lot of celebrations to do today."

The day went by smoothly, Harry answered a couple of calls and texts from friends and family and you spent the afternoon cuddling up before it was time for his birthday dinner.

Harry wanted something small and intimate, with just a handful of close friends and family invited, so you decided to host the birthday dinner at your home. As the evening approached, the house was filled with the delicious aroma of the special dinner you had prepared for him.

Jeff and Glenne were the first ones to arrive, carrying a homemade cake that Glenne insisted she had baked all morning. Sarah and Mitch came next with their baby boy who giggled and clapped as Harry made silly faces, clearly enjoying the attention from the famous Cool Harry, because he refused to be called uncle.

"Damn mate, I can't believe you're 30 now," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, "I still remember when you were twenty and my parents basically adopted you, I feel so old."

"You feel old? Imagine how I feel, that's my baby brother!" Gemma chimed in, entering your house with her boyfriend Michal and Anne, "Happy birthday, H."

"Thanks, Gem," Harry smiled, hugging his sister tightly. "And thanks for reminding everyone that I'm officially old now."

As more friends and family arrived, the laughter and chatter of loved ones filled the air, the dining table was adorned with candles, flowers, and a beautifully set dinner that everyone enjoyed.

Once your bellies were full, Mitch opened the champagne bottle Harry Lambert brought with him, filling everyone's glasses to make a toast.

"Alright, everyone, gather around," Mitch announced, holding up his glass, "To Harry, on his 30th birthday, may this year be filled with even more success and love. Cheers."

Everyone clicked their glasses, smiles on everyone's faces.

"I think the missus should give a speech!" Gemma teased, pointing at you.

"Not a missus yet, still no ring," you teased back, raising an eyebrow at Harry and hearing the whistles from his friends.

"Well, uh, maybe we'll have to do something about that soon." Harry chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

The room erupted in laughter and even more whistles, and you couldn't help but blush and roll your eyes with affection.

"Alright, alright," you began, holding up your glass, "Here's to the man of the hour. Harry, you've filled my life with so much joy, laughter, and love all these years. It's been an incredible journey growing up with you, I still remember when we were just kids, celebrating your 16th birthday before you became the star that you are today, I'm so proud of you and living life by your side has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Happy 30th birthday, my love. May this year bring you everything you desire."

Harry couldn't help but melt at your words, standing up and hugging you tightly and kissing your lips.

"Thank you, everyone," Harry began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia, "I can't believe I'm standing here, celebrating my 30th birthday. It feels like just yesterday I was a wide-eyed 16-year-old auditioning for The X Factor, not knowing what life had in store for me," he paused, glancing at each person in the room with watery eyes, "But here I am, and I couldn't be more grateful for each and every one of you. To my family, who has been there from the start, and to my friends who have become family. And to this incredible woman right here," Harry said, placing his hand on your waist, "who has been with me since I was I was an annoying teenager, growing up by my side."

"You're still as annoying as a teenager," Jeff interrupted him, making the entire room laugh, "But we love you, mate. And we're grateful for you."

As the night continued, the homemade cake adorned with candles was brought out, and everyone in the room sag "Happy Birthday" together, Harry made a wish and blew out the candles, surrounded by the people he loved the most.

After the cake-cutting and more chatter, everyone decided to call it a night and head home, leaving you and Harry at me comfort of your house.

"Thank you for everything," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's your day, love. I'm just happy I could make it special for you," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"You always make every day special," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You stood wrapped around each other for a few minutes, enjoying the final moments of his birthday.

"This has been one of my favorite birthdays ever," Harry admitted, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm glad you think so," you smiled, snuggling closer. "And, by the way, the 'no ring yet' comment earlier, totally just teasing."

"Oh, really? Because I was serious, maybe it's time," Harry smirked, giving you a playful look.

"Don't tell me you're about to propose, not on your own birthday, Harry!" you said nervously.

"Not right now love, but soon enough," he winked and you let out the breath you were holding, "I love you."

"I love you more, Harry. Happy birthday."

[6okuto]

EARLY PROMISE

gn!reader | 1.3k words, you see the ring iwaizumi wants to propose with a little (very) early

there’s a box behind shirts that iwaizumi no longer wears in his closet.

maybe that’s why you’ve never seen it before. you never would have, were you not given permission to look for clothes to donate while he went on a run.

it’s small, velvet, and inside there’s a ring that, any other day, you would have lingered to watch for as long as possible at a jewelry store.

but you’re not at the mall, nor are you currently being proposed to. you’re at home, standing alone while your stomach churn, and fingers tremble as you stare at the box in your palm where, right now, it decisively should not be. “fuck.”

“babe?”

the sound of the door and his keys accompany hajime’s voice from the entryway. if you listen closely, above your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can hear him kick off his shoes—them hitting the step that he’s tripped on a few times after long nights with friends and drinks.

he shouldn’t be home yet.

you will your voice to work. “yeah?”

“you looking through the closet already?”

“...yeah?” there’s a questioning lilt at the end as your eyes scan around, his engagement ring—your engagement ring?—still in your hands.

and you know the pattern of hajime’s walk. you know his usual pace, how the floorboards creak as he walks down the hall toward your bedroom. he’s steady—slippers sometimes dragging across the wood if he’s tired, quiet in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep.

today his footsteps come closer, a little faster, a little heavier than usual.

you assume it’s from the same nerves as yours.

“i forgot, there’s, uh, some shirts i’m keeping that i don’t want—”

hajime opens the door and spots you easily, standing in the middle of the closet as if you were the worst criminal alive, caught stealing in broad daylight.

you to see.

“to throw away,” he finishes, shoulders dropping. his voice quiets to a whisper, “shit.”

silence circles the both of you.

the velvet feels warm in your palm—much heavier than it was a moment ago. you wish you had an analogue clock in your room instead of hajime’s digital. maybe its ticking could take off some of the weight you feel at the sight of him standing a few feet away. maybe you could stare down its hands, listen to its rhythm, let it guide your breathing instead of standing with bated breath, chest unmoving while hajime’s rises as he catches his own.

seconds pass and you flounder, mouth opening and closing while you stand across from each other, neither sure who should speak first.

you don’t think this is how proposals are supposed to go.

your eyes flicker to the still open drawer to your right.

and you walk over, crouch to put the box where it was, pat the old obscure band t-shirt at the top of the pile in front of it, close the drawer, and go back to stand where you were, hands clenched into fists on your sides.

hajime blinks.

“did you really just put it back?” he asks, a little breathy as if he wants to laugh.

you look to the wall beside him then back at his face, as if you could be confused about his question. “...put what back?”

and this time, hajime really does laugh. and then he shakes his head, the way he does when you ask a silly question. “hon—”

“no, no, i’m not—you—that was—” you shake your head and frown. you wish his laughter would comfort you the way it always does, but you think you need to let guilt stay, gnaw for a little while longer. “this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

he tilts his head and smiles, just a little. “you’re telling me.”

“hajime.” you purse your lips. “i’m sorry. i feel like i just ruined whatever you were planning.”

hajime huffs and walks toward you, arms reaching out to hold yours. his hands are cool from the morning air, and goosebumps cover your skin as his touch runs from your elbows to your hands, where his fingers find their place in between yours. he’s looking down at them as he speaks—the ones that had held the box, to be specific. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault i forgot. plus i decided to run back a block instead of just texting or calling.”

“you panicked.”

“obviously.”

letting go of one hand, you lightly push his chest. but his hand follows, this time holding you to his heart. you give him a look. “i would’ve done the same thing if i was as fast as you. and i don’t know, i could’ve checked somewhere else. or closed my eyes. or wiped my memory.”

“you would’ve checked eventually, and closing your eyes is not effective for what you’re doing.”

“mind wipe would’ve been okay?”

“how would i have known?”

“...the mind wipe-y gun in my hand.”

he snorts. “what? it keeps a little history of your memory wipes?”

“i don’t know, maybe they have those. do you have one?”

“we’re getting off topic,” hajime chides, though there’s no real anger behind his lopsided smile and tilt of his head.

you sigh. there’s no average way of dealing with the topic of exposed proposal plans, so the best you can offer is a small, closed mouth smile of your own. “...you really wanna marry me?”

he reaches to squish your cheeks. “no, that’s for the other person i’ve been dating since high school and live with while you’re asleep.” you roll your eyes and clasp your hand over his.

“of course i wanna marry you. i’ve wanted to marry you for years,” he says with ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well,”—you fidget—“that’s good to know.” your reply is soft, and you will yourself to ignore the warmth that creeps up your neck and face. your eyes fall to where hajime’s thumb rubs the back of your hand, if only to avoid his gaze. “i...can i ask how you were thinking of proposing or is that weird? or maybe you shouldn’t tell me so you can still do it.”

he pauses.

you look at him. “hajime?”

he tenses at his name, sucking in his bottom lip before answering. “well, i was kind of leaving that part of the plan for later—”

“i didn’t even let you plan the proposal?”

“—but if you think about it,” he continues, already aware of how you’d react, “you just saved me a bunch of anxiety by implying you’d say yes.”

your mouth falls open, hands moving away from his. “i already knew i fucked up our engagement, but i really did fuck up our engagement.”

“you didn’t fuck up our engagement,” hajime breathes out your name as he moves to hold your shoulders.

your head falls forward, landing against his shoulder. “i fucked up our engagement so bad.”

your boyfriend, your sweet boyfriend who always seems to come out of situations calmer than you, snickers, and you hit his chest half-heartedly.

“why are you laughing, oh my god—”

���i’m not laughing—”

“shut the fuck up, you’re laughing—”

“i’m sorry—you just, you didn’t fuck anything up, okay?” his laughter quiets as his arms wrap around you. “i can still propose and keep it a surprise, and i’m pretty sure it’s better you found out while i wasn’t in the middle of the plan, yeah? we just…know your answer already which, seriously, is a relief, so stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

silence wraps around the both of you again—softer this time. an extra comfort intertwined with hajime’s voice and arms holding you.

moving away to look at him, you let out a deep breath. “okay, but i still feel bad.”

“babe—”

“as if you wouldn’t feel bad,” you retort, which your boyfriend responds to with nothing but a look that says you’re right. “is there anything i can do to make up for it?’

he hums and taps your hips, thumbs fitting perfectly against you. “promise to say yes when i actually propose?”

and this time it’s your turn to laugh, though it’s more a puff of air followed by rolling eyes and a kiss to his cheek. “i can probably promise that.”

little nia luvring comeback Bc my brain Sounds Like a garbage disposal + nails on a chalkboard And only these fictional characters r keeping me going. Hope u all thought of me for a moment the past 2/3 months

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial

[avis-writeshq]

platform ten – spencer reid

summary: two months after he embarrassingly got caught ogling at the pretty girl on the train, Spencer’s team begins to suspect something.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: friends to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!), reader wears lipgloss, excessive mentions of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favourite Gothic authors), not proof read

wc: 3.4k

part one: carriage six

“So, I’ve been reading Poe’s works,” you begin, your headphones around your neck and you pull out ‘The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe’, flipping to ‘Annabel Lee’. 

Spencer watches as you flick to the page, his heart soaring at the sight of the annotations that litter the page. There are different colours and highlighters across the words and from what he could tell pink talked about language and that was the colour that stood out to him most. You bring the book closer so that he can read your annotations too and his heart stutters in his chest at the close proximity. He can smell the strawberry and honey shampoo in your hair and the heat rises up to his cheeks. It’s intoxicating. 

“I really don’t think the narrator is a crazy psychopath,” you say, glancing at him. “It just sounds like he’s really, seriously in love with her which just makes a bunch of people jealous.”

He watches the way you point to a certain line, ‘But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee.’ 

“Does that not sound like something you would say when you’re in love?” You ask, swooning a little. “It’s romantic, don’t you think? And their love is so brilliant and pure that the angels stole her away from him. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s kind of a picture of how amazing their love is.”

He nods along, his cheeks flushed because that’s what he thinks when he thinks of you. But he’ll never tell you that. How could he even dream of you feeling the same? The idea in itself is just so bizarre that he doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought. Not even when it’s late at night and he’s by himself, thinking through every single interaction you’ve had with him since he finally talked to you two months ago. 

“And I mean, think about it,” you continue, gesticulating with every word, eyes wide with excitement. “The last stanza. He’s still in love with her even after she’s passed away. How romantic is that?”

“Very romantic,” Spencer agrees, and he wonders if that’s how he looks when he rambles. “Alright, it’s definitely a love poem.”

He relishes in the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, the way you grin up at him and he wants to make you smile this way every day. His eyes wander to your lips and he swallows thickly. You’re wearing that lipgloss again, a cool berry tone that makes your lips shine and–

“Spencer? Are you okay?” 

He all but jolts out of his trance and he coughs awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. “Yes!” He squeaks, before clearing his throat and repeating the word. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

He watches as an amused smile quirks at your lips as you ask, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he manages to croak, his ears red. 

He can’t even look at you. His eyes turn back to the book you’re holding, reading through the annotations you’ve made on the page for the nth time over. This is an example of one of the instances he doesn’t want to remember and prays that his stop would miraculously be next. 

“I’ve been reading The Tell-Tale Heart,” you say, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Spencer forces himself to maintain eye contact with you and he manages a small, “really?”

You laugh and nod. “Yep! It’s really good. Kinda creepy.”

“It is a little creepy,” he admits, his gaze flicking to your lips again. He’s kicking himself internally, asking, ‘who’s the creepy one now, weirdo?!’

He figures that you’re either incredibly gracious or incredibly used to it because you don’t mention the way his attention wavers. 

“You don’t seem okay.”

Or so he thought.

“What— um— what makes you say that?” He asks, clearing his throat.

You shoot him a smile. “You’re not going on about the text like you usually do.”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his brain short circuiting. He can imagine Derek snickering and Emily commenting her usual, ‘IQ of 187, slashed to 60’. 

“Spencer?” You look amused, a smile on his face and a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Are you—“

“I’m fine!” Spencer says quickly, ears burning. “I’m just— thinking? Yes, thinking.”

You laugh. “Dangerous pastime.”

“What?”

“I— never mind,” you shake your head, continuing to laugh. “But I do want to hear your thoughts on ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ at some point.”

“Totally!” He jolts, and he’s kicking himself internally for being so eager. “Yes. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

The train lurches to a stop and Spencer gets up from his seat. 

“Bye, Spencer,” you say, smiling brilliantly at him, and it takes every ounce of self control in him to not just grab your face and kiss you.

“Bye,” he says, saying your name, before getting off the train.

*** 

Spencer has been acting weird. That is the conclusion Derek has come to as he watches the youngest member of their team enter the bullpen with the widest grin on the planet for the fourth time that week. He watches as Spencer sits down at his desk, looking like a literal teenager, and gets down to work. He has his earphones plugged in, the kind you would get at a dollar store, or the complementary ones you get from airports that never fit your ears right and leave you with headaches because of the horrible audio quality. Derek supposes he’s just listening to Beethoven or Bach or another dead classical musician. But as he passes Spencer’s desk, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. Spencer is humming. No, not just humming. He’s muttering lyrics under his breath. Since when did classical music have lyrics?

“What the hell…?” Derek asks under his breath to no one in particular. 

“You talking about Reid?” Emily asks, an amused grin on her face. “He’s acting weird.”

“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” JJ seemingly appears out of nowhere, standing beside them with her arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. 

Rossi enters the bullpen, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting at his desk, blissfully unaware. “We talking about the kid?”

“He’s been acting weird all week,” Derek insists, his brows furrowing. “What do you think it is?”

“Maybe he won a chess tournament,” JJ says with a soft laugh. 

Emily rolls her eyes at the idea. “Please, Reid’s probably the winner of every single chess tournament in the state.”

“Maybe his mother is doing better?” Rossi suggests.

“Doesn’t explain why he’s listening to, I don’t know, not Mozart,” Derek points out.

There’s a silence that pulls over the group as they stare at the back of Reid’s head. It isn’t long before he turns around to face his coworkers, raising an eyebrow.

“… Why are you staring at me?” Spencer asks, giving them all pointed looks. 

“You’re acting weird,” Morgan says, cutting straight to the chase. “Care to share with the class?”

Spencer offers them all confused looks. “I’m… not acting weird? If anything, you guys are the ones acting weird.”

“Ohh, no, don’t turn this around on us.” Emily grins, walking over to him. “What’s going on?”

“What— guys, what happened to ‘no profiling each other’?” Spencer spluttered, shooting accusatory looks towards his coworkers.

“We’re just worried, that’s all,” JJ says with maternal sympathy, but Spencer can tell that she’s hiding a smile. 

He groans, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I’m fine guys. I’m not acting ‘weird’ or anything.”

“Who are you listening to, Reid?” Rossi asks quickly, nodding towards the ear phones. 

“What?” Spencer’s head snaps up, redness crawling up to his ears. 

Emily smirks. “Yeah Reid. Who are you listening to?”

“No one,” he answers, avoiding their gaze. “I’m uh— I’m going back to work.”

He quickly turns his chair around, busting himself with his files. His co-workers all exchange glances, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“You know, I could just ask Garcia to dig into your phone,” Derek says with a shrug. “Or you could tell us yourself.”

Spencer shoots him a light hearted glare. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You wouldn’t.”

***

Spencer thinks he’s going to die of mortification. He spent that entire week downloading all of the released songs by Taylor Swift, dutifully listening to each song and reporting back to you on his opinions. He has since come to a conclusion: Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience with other branches of music that involves lyrics, but he figures it’s pretty similar to poetry. Regardless, he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s in for a world of teasing and tasteful jabs towards his sudden shift in music taste.

He’s also been doing this thing called texting, and he even went as far as getting a new phone and email address just so that he could properly contact you. He’s been in contact with you for the past eight weeks, going as far as messaging and calling you during break times and hiding in the bathroom to have an ounce of privacy. He feels like a changed person, all because of a tiny handheld device that fits in his back pocket. And you. Mostly you. The worst thing about this entire situation is the fact that Morgan did in fact manage to convince Garcia to snoop into his phone. 

“Alright, Reid, quit hiding. Who’s the girl?” Derek demands, slapping a piece of paper onto Spencer’s desk. It’s a log of calls and downloads. In other words, it’s a log of all the times he’s called the same number and all the Taylor Swift songs he’s downloaded. 

“Girl? What— what girl?” Spencer asks, playing dumb and willing himself to look Derek in the eye. His mind is spinning. ‘Blink evenly. Maintain eye contact. Don’t stutter. Answer his questions evenly. Play dumb. There is no girl, there is no girl there is no—‘

“Reid? Reid? Spencer!” Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him out of his trance.

“Huh?” Spencer jolts, snapping out of his trance. “What?”

Derek snorts at his reaction. “Look, kid. This person calls your cell every day at 12:30, which just so happens to be in two minutes. So, either you tell me and I let you have your fun, or she calls you and she’ll be hearing my voice instead of yours.”

Spencer scoffs, holding his phone firmly in the palm of his hand. “There is no girl, Morgan.”

“Right.” 

“I’m serious!” Spencer says, his voice going up and octave and he cringes internally. Smooth. “There is no girl.”

“Totally believe you.”

He groans, wiping a hand over his face to calm himself down. Before he could respond, the phone in his hand begins to ring. A smirk tugs at Derek’s lips and he immediately lunges for the phone, eliciting a yelp from Spencer who leaps from his seat. 

“Morgan— Morgan no—“

“C’mon kid, it’ll be a lot easier if you just give in!”

“No! Nope, nope, Morgan I swear to-“

In seconds, Derek snatches Spencer’s phone out of his hand, a triumphant look on his face. He keeps Spencer at arm’s length as he picks up the phone.

“Hey Spence!” A voice rings through the phone.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not Spencer,” Derek responds, his voice smug.

“… that’s concerning,” The voice responds slowly, cautiously. “Who is this?”

Spencer grabs the phone out of Derek’s hand, running out of the bullpen as quickly as his long legs could carry him, flipping his coworker the finger before he leaves. 

“Hello?” He asks into the phone. “I’m so sorry, that was Derek, my co-worker.”

“Oh, the bald one!” You say quickly, recalling his name from the photos Spencer had shown you beforehand. “I thought it was like… a bad guy or something.”

He laughs softly into the phone, his cheeks warm and wearing a smile that could split his face in two. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but not a bad guy.”

He hears you chuckle from the other side of the line. “Yeah, he seems like a nice person. Your entire team sounds really cool.”

“Maybe you could meet them at some point,” Spencer says quietly, his heart thundering in his chest. “I mean, they kind of already know you exist.”

“That would be fun,” You muse, and he hears the soft ruffling of cling wrap in the background.

“Lunch?” 

He hears you hum in response, and he can’t help but chuckle. There’s a silence for a few seconds, and he assumes you were eating, before your voice picks up again.

“I’d love to meet your team at some point, Spence. They seem like really amazing people.” 

He can’t help but smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. They are. You’d love them, and I’m sure they’d love you just as much.”

Before long, lunch break is over and Spencer begrudgingly hangs up and returns to the bullpen, his team all wearing frustratingly smug faces. He rolls his eyes, not paying them any kind as he returns to his desk. He ignores the very blatant whistle Derek does in his direction and the snort Emily fails to hide.

“So…” JJ begins, dragging her words out. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”

Spencer chokes on air and bites his tongue, grimacing at the taste of blood. “I do not have a girlfriend.” It’s not a lie.

“But you want her to be,” Emily says, smirking. 

“No! Yes. I don’t know, maybe?” Spencer feels like a teenage boy being lectured by his parents. Not that he knows what that feels like.

“Alright, well, have you asked her on a date?” Derek asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Spencer coughs, reaching for his mug of stale coffee. That’s all he needs to do to answer Derek’s question, because in moments Derek is screaming in his ear. 

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?!”

“We talk loads of times,” Spencer insists, hiding behind his disgustingly old coffee. “We just never… we’re just friends.”

Rossi bites back a chuckle. “Yes, because friends call each other every day during their lunch breaks.”

Spencer feels his face grow impossibly hotter and he chugs the last of his coffee. He cringes before turning his attention back to his files in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work.

“How did you meet her?” JJ asks, gentler this time. 

Spencer flushes and plays with his watch. “On the train.”

“That’s very you,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “She seems really nice, Spencer.”

He preens at the compliment, his mind drifting to your pretty hair and glossy lips. He sports a grin and he nods. “She’s really, really nice.”

*** 

Spencer sits next to you on the train as usual. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is combed to be a little neater, only for his efforts to be destroyed when a strong gust of wind hits his face the moment he left his apartment. He reminds himself to put a comb into his bag after work. You’re talking about another one of Poe’s works, this time ‘The Raven’, another love poem. Your eyes are bright with excitement as you go on and on about the writing style and whatever else. 

Spencer is far from religious but your existence alone is enough to have him thanking the heaven’s that he is alive. He can’t help but smile every time you do, his gaze perpetually on your lips. He feels a little guilty about it, about how he can’t even control himself when he’s around you but you’re just so beautiful that he can’t help himself. He feels even guiltier when he realises he hasn’t processed a word you’ve said. 

“... and that’s why I think Edgar Allen Poe is really just a huge softie who wants to be loved,” you finish, snapping the book closed. “What do you think, Doctor Genius?”

“Totally,” Spencer agrees quickly, almost biting his tongue. “Absolutely.”

You laugh and Spencer thinks he’s going to faint. 

“Where are you up to in your Taylor Swift project?” You ask teasingly, nudging his arm. If it were anyone else, Spencer would have grimaced and shrugged them off but you aren’t just ‘anyone’. You’re the most amazing person in the world. 

“I’m up to 1989 track 9, Wildest Dreams,” Spencer recites, pulling out his notebook from his inner jacket pocket. It’s a small leatherbound notebook that he’s been writing all his thoughts in regards to the Taylor Swift songs, all in chronological order. He’s actually quite proud of it as he flicks to the latest page. “I really like this one. I did some research and I found out that the bass sound in the background is actually her heartbeat. That’s pretty interesting.”

You almost scream in excitement, leaning closer to him to read his notes. “I love this song! It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song ever and it’s just so pretty, you know?”

He nods in agreement, his cheeks flushed at the close proximity and he finds that he can no longer feel his tongue. He should get that checked out. 

“It reminds me of you sometimes,” you say, completely unabashed. Spencer thinks you’re trying to kill him. 

“What?” He asks meekly, recalling every lyric from the song. 

You freeze, flustered and you pull away from him. Spencer frowns at the sudden space but he watches as you stammer and stumble over your words.

“I just meant– you know, it’s a good song! That’s all.” You laugh anxiously, fiddling with the book in your hand. “Never mind, just ignore me. Tell me more about what you like about the song.”

In an almost uncharacteristic bout of confidence, Spencer reaches out to take your hand in his. At first, he thought his head was going to explode. It felt heavy and light all at the same time and he was almost about to pull his hand away when you squeezed his fingers. Just like that, all doubts are gone. You’re smiling at him and Spencer knows that he would do absolutely anything to make sure to keep it there. 

When the train lurches to a stop at Quantico, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to move. He’s grinning ear-to-ear, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Isn’t this your stop?” You ask gently, loosening your hold on his hand. 

He shrugs, holding onto your hand tighter. “I’m always early. I can be late for once.”

Besides, he thinks to himself, inching closer to you, this is so worth it.

Pride bubbles in his heart when he hears you laugh again and his smile grows impossibly wider. 

“We’re almost at my stop,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. “We should go out. You know, instead of just meeting on the train.”

Spencer nods immediately at the suggestion. “I’d like that. Are you free on Saturday?”

“I’m definitely free on Saturday,” you respond, squeezing his hand again. 

Spencer sits there with you until you make it to your stop. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and he feels happy, so goddamn happy, and he wonders how he’s lived without you. Before you get off the train, he calls your name. He relishes in the way you turn around, the confusion palpable in your eyes. 

“Yeah?”

He takes a step closer to you, his face in front of yours. His heartbeat is in his ears but at the same time he feels an incredibly ironic sense of calm. In seconds, he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss. He grins at you as you stumble out of the train dazed, waving goodbye. From the window he could see you press your cold hands to your cheeks before reaching for your phone. 

The smile that grows on his face when he sees your face light up his phone is embarrassing. It’s goofy and silly and he is so grateful that the carriage is empty. 

“Hello?” 

“You cannot–” your voice comes through the speaker and he grins again– “you cannot just kiss me randomly and then leave.”

“Technically the train left, not me,” Spencer says with a small laugh.

You’re quiet on the other end before replying, “We need a re-do on Saturday.”

Spencer has no complaints. 

reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist: @sunshineyottie @cerulean-turtle @tortelliniturtle7 @bucxkysdoll @awitadecoca

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[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Prologue / Chapter One / Chapter Two

[Italicized chapters are sort of like,, flash backs? Stuff in the past, whatever.]

[CHAPTER ONE]

I’d never been one for parties.

Yet there I stood, staring up at the house of the address I was given, the windows flashing a multitude of colors as the muffled music blared. People were scattered around the front lawn, holding their drinks and talking happily amongst themselves as laughter filled the cool night air. I felt a sense of midding as I slowly made my way to the front door, a small smile formed on my face.

I opened the front door to be met with the loud, hot air of the party. It wasn’t packed, but it was close. Immediately I started looking around for the one who invited me, gently pushing my way through the groups of people. There were faces I recognized, and ones I didn’t. I hadn’t seen anyone in the area since I’d changed schools years prior. But none of them were who I was searching for. Until finally, I saw him.

He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes behind a pair of thick black rectangular glasses. He wore a dark green sweater that fit his broad shoulders snugly and blue jeans. I especially knew it was him when I spotted his hiking shoes.

Who wears hiking shoes to a party?

“Chris!” I called. M y cousin, Christopher Hartley, leaning up against the wall and talking to a girl with red hair. He turned to me and smiled.

“Jordan! I didn’t think you’d show,” he said. He took a step towards me and pull ed me into a tight, familiar hug. Chris took a step back as if to get a better look at me. “You look great!”

“Yeah, well, y’know,” I grinned. I tucked a hair behind my ear. It was Chris’s friend group’s graduation party, and it was a big one. A smaller celebration had been held prior by the adults for Chris , a nice outdoor barbecue with baby photos tacked onto the walls and various cork boards. But once that was over and everyone had left, Chris begged me to go with him to a much larger, run by the teens grad party the next week.

“Let me introduce you to my friends!” Chris was practically yelling into my ear to be heard over the blasting music.

“Uhm, no! I’m good, actually, I’ve met your friends!” I’ d met his friends. Mean girls, meat-heads, and -

“C’mon, Jordan, please! You haven’t seen them in like 4 years, they’re totally new people now!” Chris insisted. He grabbed my wrist and began to pull me back towards the red-haired girl. I recognized her then.

“Hi, Ashley,” I waved meekly.

Ashley Brown. Despite the people she surrounded herself with, Ashley seemed like a nice girl. She had red shoulder length hair and hazel eyes under thin eyebrows. Her makeup was subtle and suited her well. She was a very conventionally pretty girl and one that Chris had a huge crush on. Even back in elementary school I remembered seeing her and Chris, nervously sitting together at lunch. Their crushes on each other were so obviously mutual it was sickening to know they were both oblivious to the other’s feelings.

“Hey, Jordan.” Ashley smiled sweetly and waved back at me before glancing back at Chris with a look that screamed “get me out of this.” I decided to get her out of the situation myself while escaping the prospects of having to re meet Chris’s friends. As far as I knew, the group was entirely made up of the same people as it was when I’d changed schools 4 years prior. “Actually Chris, I’m going to go…” I paused. “To the bathroom.”

“But you just got here,” Chris’s face dropped. He knew me well enough to know I was just making an excuse.

“I drink a lot of water, and -”

“Jordan. Don’t ditch me,” Chris said. “Please.” At that moment I despised him for being a sweetheart. I couldn’t say no to Chris, no matter how much I’d wanted to.

Chris spent the next hour or so introducing me to his posse. Just as I’d suspected, it was exactly the same as it had been previously. Emily Davis, Jessica Riley, Matthew Taylor, Michael Monroe, Samantha Giddings, and Hannah and Beth Washington. I noticed there was one missing, but I didn’t dare ask in fear of reminding Chris of th at final person.

“ Sam seems nice,” I commented. “She’s probably my favorite out of everybody that you’ve introduced me to.” And I wasn’t lying. Sam stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the people she ran with. She was active, vegan – not passive-aggressive.

“Yeah, Sam’s great. Hey, I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want something?”

“A water bottle?” Chris gave me a look.

“Really?” I nodded and he left to go get the beverages, leaving me by myself near a fireplace. I took a moment to really look around at the house I was in. It was large, just short of a mansion, and old. The architecture was somewhat gothic.

“ BOO!” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden scare. Someone had grabbed my shoulders hard as they shouted into my ear. I knew immediately who it was, and I was as far from happy as someone could have ever possibly been. I heard a familiar laughter as I turned around to face him, taking deep and steady breaths.

“Joshua Washington,” I said blankly. “Still fail to grow up?” Josh’s smile fades.

“Whatever your name is,” Josh repeated my tone. I couldn’t tell whether or not he had actually forgotten my name or didn’t care to use It. “Still can’t take a joke?”

“Guess not,” I shrugged. Josh stared at me, his shit-eating grin slowly returning to his face. “Or maybe you should come up with some new jokes. ‘Boo’? So last year.” I held eye contact with Joshua for what felt like an hour.

“An oldie but a goodie.” Josh’s brow twitches in frustration. He still held onto his smile but I could tell it was a struggle.

“Not a goodie if nobody fucking likes it.”

“I like it.”

“Hey, Josh! I see you’ve re-met Jordan!” Chris chimed in. Whether he knew we were about to start fighting or not was a mystery, but I was grateful for the interruption nonetheless.

“ Right, Jordan, that’s what it was,” Josh said. “I didn’t remember her at all other than the amount of crying she did.”

“The amount of crying you made me do.”

“All in good fun.”

“You tried to get pig’s blood to ‘Carrie’ me.”

“Like I said, just jokes.” Chris finally interjected.

“C’mon, Jordan, he didn’t mean anything by -” I hold my hand up to stop Chris there.

“I’m not doing this. You were in on a lot of those, Chris, you know how they hurt me.” I didn’t expect him to be on Josh’s side, but then again it wasn’t that surprising considering the amount of torture he helped exact. Chris looked down at the floor in defeat. I turn to Josh.

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.” I huffed at him. I could barely see him under all of the lights but I managed to catch a glimpse of expression other than snark. For half of a second I could’ve sworn it was remorse.

It didn’t last.

“ Well. I’m not a bully, so… whatever.” Josh turned around and walked away, leaving Chris and I. I was shocked to look at Chris and see him glaring at me.

“Did you have to do that?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Do what?”

“Start a fight, just like that?” I could feel my heart sink.

“Chris, no, I didn’t -”

“Why can’t you just get over it already?” I could smell the booze on Chris’s breath. I knew he was drunk, he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t. He watched me cry enough growing up to know what kind of effects Joshua Washington had on me and my mental health. I chose to say nothing, my eyes full of tears threatening to spill over. My throat felt tight, and I knew if I said a word, all eyes would be on me as I cried in the middle of the room. So I just shake my head and shrug. I took my water bottle and headed out onto the back porch of the house – where Hannah and Beth Washington happened to be.

They noticed right away that my expression was negative. Something I’d apparently forgotten was how different from their brother the twins were, as they came to me immediately.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hannah asked as she took my hands into her own. I swallowed.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sighed, looking over the balcony and into the woods.

“Was it Josh?” Beth asked. My eyes flickered to hers. My silence was all the answer that she’d needed. “He’s an ass, for sure. But he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be. When it comes to you we don’t know what’s wrong with him.” I’m surprised at what Beth was saying. “Have you heard that dumb stuff about ‘he’s only making fun of you because he likes you’ from, like, grade school? I think it’s like that.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that. The twins ignore the obvious attitude and continued to chat with me. There was absolutely no way Joshua harbored any feelings for me other than disdain, and there was no way in HELL that it could have ever been romantic.

“Girl, don’t worry. You can hang with us.” Hannah grinned at me as she hopped excitedly. “He’ll leave you alone if we tell him to, or whatever.” I smiled at the girls. Just as I had with Chris, I could smell the booze on them and could only assume this kindness and promise of friendship was temporary. Once they were sober, they wouldn’t remember this at all. And if they did, I was sure they would regret it.

“Sure, that would be nice,” I admitted. Even if it’s just for the night, I would never complain about having friends – even if they were related to my sworn enemy.

“Great! Give me your phone!” Hannah insisted. I did as she’d asked, and next thing I knew I had their contact information. “We’ll hang out after tonight, we promise.” I nodded. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t hoped it would happen, that these two would somehow integrate me into their lives.

It was severely unfortunate that it didn’t last long.

[scarletlizzard]

Christmas Angel

Parings: wanda maximoff x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, fluff, dirty talk, name calling, choking, strap on (R) receiving, dom!wanda, fingering , cheating?

Summary: At a Christmas party in a club, you find yourself sitting alone at the bar. That is until Wanda Maximoff buys you a drink.

You sip down another straight shot of vodka, wondering how the hell you got here. You look around the crowded club at the Christmas decorations that hung all over the building. Strands of green and red flickered above you, fake felt snow wrapped around the bar, even the bartender was wearing half of a Santa suit. The crowd of people behind you on the dance floor seemed to get bigger in the 15 minutes you had been sitting at the bar, and you were starting to wonder whether or not you should leave.

"You want another?" the shirtless Santa asks, his fake white beard crooked as he shakes a cocktail. You sigh with a smile and shrug.

"Why the hell not?" He nods at your words, returning a smile. As he pours you another shot, you find yourself subconsciously turning the ring on your left index finger. You stare at it for a moment before grabbing the shot glass, lifting it up towards shirtless Santa, and downing it in one go.

After that shot you definitely felt yourself relax, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to course through your body. Before you could call over the bartender again, shirtless Santa, he's already walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Here you go!" He sets down a fruity looking cocktail in front of you. His beard was no longer crooked, but now his hat was.

"Oh, hey, I didn't order anything else!" You raise your voice, trying to speak above the music and across the bar.

"No worries, someone sent this for you and paid your tab already!" He yells back and sends a friendly wink your way before nodding his head in the direction across the bar. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the color red as you looked over, a woman standing out from the rest of the crowd. She raises her glass in your direction, and you're compelled to do the same.

She smiles and watches as you take a sip of her gift, and you can't help the blush on your cheeks from the way she stares. From what you could make out, she was wearing a nice red sweater that clashed with her gorgeous auburn hair and black slacks on her bottom half. Her eyes were encased with black framed glasses, and thankfully, they couldn't hide the glimmer of emerald you saw behind them.

Lost in the sea of green, you realize she's left her spot and is making her way over to you. You quickly run a hand through your hair and straighten up the short green dress you had on. Soon enough, she's standing next to you, leaning against the wood of the bar.

"Hey there!" The redhead says.

"Hey."

"I couldn't help but notice you all alone over here," she says, her voice is just loud enough for you to hear it over the loud music. You notice her eyes settle on the ring on your finger, but only for a moment. She has a small smirk on face as her eyes move back up to meet yours. "Or maybe you aren't alone?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I'm alone," you say flatly, shrugging and sipping your drink.

"Good to hear. I'm Wanda, and you?"

"Y/N," is all you say, watching as she nods.

"That's a very beautiful name." You feel her inch forward towards you. There's a moment of awkward silence as you don't speak. "Where are you from?" Wanda asks.

"New York."

"Oh really? Wow, New York is beautiful this time of year.. Rockefeller Center, the snow."

Another moment of silence.

"Did you go to school there?"

You nod, "Yep, NYU. I studied photography there."

"Oh, that's really cool! I've always been interested in photography, you know. Taking pictures.. and what not.." She clears her throat and adjusts the glasses on her face.

Silence.

"I um, I like your earrings by the way, they uh, really complement your eyes," She says with a sweet smile, bringing her cup up to her lips and taking a drink. You sigh and do your best to look annoyed with her. "You know actually -"

You cut her off with a raise of your hand, standing from the stool. "Let me just stop you right there, Wanda. You seem really sweet and really nice. You bought me a drink, asked about my life, and complemented me.." You start off, looking at her cheeky grin and the glasses on her face. "But sweet and nice is not what I'm looking for. I don't want someone to chat with all night long, talking about who's from where and what makes you giggle. Not interested, thanks," you give her a fake, bitchy smile.

Wanda has a look of shock on her face, mouth open as she stutters to find the right words. "Y/N, Y/N wait, I'm not -" But you're walking away from her to the dance floor, leaving the rest of your drink at the bar. You let out a huff as you weave through the ocean of bodies, letting yourself get lost in the music.

The lights above the dance floor flash red and green, and everyone around you was wearing Christmas colors or tacky Christmas sweaters. It reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, but you found yourself swaying your hips to the music anyway. It only took a few minutes before you felt a pair of hands on your waist, gripping tightly. You felt their body against your back, moving along with you to the upbeat music that played. One of the hands traveled up your waist and side, up your arm and shoulder to move your hair away from one side of your neck. You can feel them lean down against you, their lips on your ear as they begin to speak.

"I'm anything but sweet and nice, angel." You hear Wandas voice as her arm wraps around you tightly to prevent you from turning around. Her other arm wraps higher around your body, letting her fingers explore the skin on your exposed shoulder.

"Wanda -"

"Shut up, slut," she spits out, making you gasp in her grip. "That's what you are isn't it? That's how you want to be treated?" Wanda presses her hips further against your ass, and that's when you realize for the first time she's got something underneath her slacks. She loosens her grip enough to let you turn around in her arms.

You see that she's lost the glasses, and her eyes are dark with lust. Flashes of green hit her face, accenting her eyes. When red begins to flash, another smirk plays on her lips.

"What did you just call me?" You say, shock still on your voice. But who were you kidding? You could feel yourself getting more turned on with every smirk on her face.

"I called you a fucking slut," she says, without blinking. "I'm not interested in talking or chatting, I don't care about New York or where you went to school... and I fucking hate those earrings." Again, without changing a single expression on her face.

Your jaw drops at her words, "I will deck you right here and take you to the fucking floor."

"Promise?" Another smirk.

The two of you stand and stare at each other for a moment.

Two moments.

Then you're leaning up, and she's leaning down in what could be the hottest kiss of your life. Her hands are on your back holding you tightly against her, and your hands move behind her head to tangle in her auburn locks, pulling at them. Wanda groans into your mouth, mumbling, "Bathroom, now.." against your lips.

Once the door shuts, Wanda pins you to the hard surface, reaching behind you to lock the door. Your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you and kissing her again. Her tongue slides across your bottom lip, forcing herself into your mouth. You moan at the feeling and gladly let her. Wandas hands move down your body, exploring as she makes her way to the bottom of your dress. She pulls up roughly, letting it slide above your hips.

You bite down on her bottom lip, sucking hard and loving the way she hisses at the feeling. She pulls back for a moment, "This is what you want, baby?" Wanda asks, and you appreciate she's asking for permission. You quickly nod, "Yes."

She wastes no time in kneeling down and ripping your panties off so roughly that you realize she's ripped the fabric. She tosses the torn panties to the ground and looks at you with another fucking smirk.

You think, in that moment, her smirk is going to be the death of you.

"You want to be a slut so badly, I'll treat you like one," her hand reaches up to your neck, squeezing tightly. Her other hand moves between your thighs, easily sliding in two fingers. She chuckles darkly and bites back a moan as she feels how wet you were, for her. Her hand squeezes a little harder, making you loose a little air in the perfect amount of pleasure.

"You look even better with my hand around your neck," Wanda says, her fingers beginning to pick up the pace. You begin to moan loudly at the feeling, your hands resting on her shoulders and gripping onto her sweatshirt for support.

"Fuck, Wanda!" She groans at your words, not letting her grip go from around your neck. Wanda feels you begin to squeeze her fingers and she tilts her head.

"Already, angel? You want to cum for me? You want to cum all over my fingers?" She asks, moving them faster. You open your mouth to speak but between her hand on your neck and her fingers pumping in and out of you, you're lost for words. Instead you manage to nod, feeling a build up of pleasure in your lower stomach burning. As you're about to reach your peak she quickly removes her fingers, making you whimper at the empty feeling. You glare at her, tears welling as your body was denied it's release.

"Did you think I would really let a little slut like you cum on my fingers? No, no.." She says with a shake of her head, letting go of your neck. Your legs tremble under your weight and you watch as she begins to unzip her pants. "Get on your knees, like a good girl." You're suprised at yourself, that was all it took for you to follow her instructions.

Wanda stood tall in front of you, her green eyes dark and a permanent smirk at the sight in front of her. She takes the faux cock from her pants, letting it through the undone zipper. Her strap is bigger than you thought, and your eyes widen, knowing you hadn't taken anything like that before. "You'll be okay, get it nice and wet for me," she smiles down at you, putting her hand on the back of your head.

You swallow hard and wet your lips before lifting it up, licking down the side. Wandas breathing was getting heavier, and you knew it was turning her on. She takes your hair in a fist, pulling it just a little bit. You finally take the strap in your mouth, moving your head up and down. "That's it, angel.. fuck you look so hot on your knees," Wanda groans and throws her head back but for only a moment, wanting to watch every second of this.

She begins to move her hips a little, pulling at your hair a little harder. It's when you look up at her with seemingly innocent eyes that she lets out a moan. Wanda can only take a little longer before she's taking herself out of your mouth, her eyes following the trail of spit from your mouth to her strap. She helps you stand up and pushes you against the door for a second time tonight.

You're surprised when she picks you up, "Wrap your legs around me, baby." She says to you, hands gripping your ass. Your back is pressed to the door as she uses one hand to line herself up at your entrance. You bite down on your lip when you feel the tip inside of you.

"Don't be gentle," you smirk at her, enjoying the reaction it drawed out from her. Her hips snap up quickly, and you eat your words as in one motion she's fully inside of you.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she says and adjusts her grip on you. Your legs are wrapped tightly around her when she begins to move her hips, thrusting harshly. You can't control your moans as she fucks you, loving every second of the gorgeous redheads attack on you. Your fingers thread through her hair, arms holding onto Wanda as tightly as you could. She leans forward to kiss you and smirks against your lips as you can barely kiss her back.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Wanda moans against your mouth, watching as you close your eyes and throw your head back against the door.

"Ah, ah.." she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, her thrusts not getting off rhythm once. "Look at me when I fuck you." You open your eyes with a whimper, "Let me hear you, angel." You oblige and let out all your moans, not being able to control yourself.

"Oh, Wanda!... Yes, yes, yes... fuck me harder! ... oh fuck..."

Both of you are moaning now, and Wanda has sucked a few marks on your neck as she murmered dirty things in your ear. She feels your legs tighten around her, your nails digging into the back of her neck.

"I want to hear you beg for it," she pants out, finding herself close to climax. "Beg me to let you cum."

Your head is spinning. You can barely breathe, but you're willing to do anything as long as she doesn't deny you again. "Wanda, please! Please, let me cum.. please.." You whimper out, feeling that familiar heat building up inside you. "I need you, I need to cum, please.." You beg her, and it's music to her ears.

It shouldn't be possible, but she thrusts harder inside of you. "Fuck, fuck.. good girl, taking my cock so well," Wanda moans against your neck, pulling back to look in your eyes.

"Cum for me, angel.. cum all over my cock. Be a good girl for me," she pants out, her thrusts becoming uneven. At her words you feel yourself let go, screaming her name as you do. Your thighs become wetter and Wanda continues to thrust, her pace slowing down as you ride out your high. "God.. fuck baby!" She moans, her hips stuttering against you as she does the same.

The two of you stay there, still for a moment as you cach your breath. Wanda takes a deep breath, leaving slow, wet kisses on your neck and chest. You hum as she does, letting your eyes close and your fingers scratching softly on the nape of her neck.

"Wanna go get some pizza?" Wanda asks as she watches you fix your makeup in the mirror. You take in her relaxed demeanor in the mirror, leaned against the bathroom wall with her arms crossed as if she didn't just fuck the life out of you. Your eyes travel to her face and - goddammit, she smirks.

Wandas jacket is warm as the two of you leave the club and you take in a deep breath in the cold, your nose being filled with the scent of Wanda. For three blocks you walk and talk about the Christmas decorations you see along the way. "Now, those ones, are pretty," She smiles wide pointing to a store with nostalgic lighting wrapped around it's window. The colorful lights shine on her face and you find yourself smiling, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers.

She took you to her favorite pizza place. It was hot and greasy and everything you could want, drunk and freshly fucked at 2am. When you were finished and satisfied, she held open the door for you, her arm stopping you from walking through the frame. You look at her, confused. Wanda only looks up, and you giggle as you realize she's looking at the mistletoe hanging above the two of you. "You know it's bad luck if you dont kiss under it.." Another smirk is all it takes for you to kiss her again.

Wanda holds your hand as she walks you home, only a few blocks away. You feel her fingers play with the ring on your finger. As you step up to your door she smiles, staying behind you at the steps. "So.. this is where you live, huh?" She smiles up at you, green eyes shining brightly.

You laugh and shake your head, stepping down so you are right in front of her. Your hand reaches up to her cheek, letting your thumb move softly. She leans into your touch, her cold cheeks warming in your hand. "You live here too, Wanda.." You giggle at the way she scrunches up her nose, and you lean up to place a soft kiss on it.

You pull the warm comforter over yourself and smile at your wife as she walks in with a glass of water. "What'd you think? I was going for a nerdy with a hot side, but you blew me out of the water." Wanda smiles back and climbs into bed next to you. You laugh and shake your head, letting her wrap her arms around you.

"I loved it. The glasses were a really nice touch, by the way. You looked so sexy.. I wasn't too bitchy? I was trying to have some attitude," you say and she laughs along with you. "I still cant believe we did that.." You rest your head on her chest, relaxing as her fingers stroke your hair. You let your own rub circles on her shoulder.

"No, I loved the attitude. It was so hot. Perfect amount of bitchy," she chuckles and kisses the top of your head. There's a moment of comfortable silence as the two of you lay holding each other.

"You're perfect.." her voice is soft, and you smile at her words, staring at the ring you've been twirling on your finger. You wondered how you got so lucky to deserve Wandas love. She lay quietly, wondering how she got so lucky to deserve being able to love you.

"I love you, Wanda.."

"I love you, more Y/N.."

**********

a/n: This is based on the opening scene of the movie Four Christmases! I thought it would be funny to see if people caught on to it or if they thought that the reader was cheating or something like that, oops. Thanks for all the likes and reads! Any comments are greatly appreciated ♡

[zevrra]

JJK.3

synopsis: random hc’s for the men of jjk; college/frat boy edition!

tags: 21(+) only, tw for drinking/being drunk, age gap, some aged up characters, modern au, college au, jjk headcanons, all sfw, short & sweet, ask box open, jjk x reader

creator’s notes: i plan to turn all of this into a multi-chapter series so give me some ideas for what the “mc”(reader) should be! or just overall drop some ideas for it in my ask box that would be cool :3

CHOSO—

forensics major with a minor in chemistry and music

only knows gojo, geto, and nanami through volleyball

supports the team solely bc his freshman brother, yuji, plays

is not in the frat but gets invited to every party

also because he's the best dj any of them know

doodles on himself with a pen

has all the piercings

his ears are decked out with mostly studs

has a right eyebrow piercing, bridge, septum, and snake bites

probably has his nipples pierced too (he lost a dare)

hangs out with geto so they can share nail polish when he paints his nails

is the quiet one at parties who's awkwardly sitting on the couch while he sips his drink

once he's drunk he's entirely different, way more open and talkative

would talk your ear off about music if you let him

or the several different ways blood can splatter and how it'll never look the same twice

is a LIGHT WEIGHT!!

sleeper build

is an alt/grunge boy through and through

is a drummer!

TOJI—

is the frat's “overseer” and the volleyball coach

is actually a decent coach but really he just got lucky to have a great team that makes him look better than he is

gets noise complaints all the time about the frat

does not care, he's at the parties too

is a horrible, horrible influence

probably acts more like a bouncer than anything

provides the alcohol

does not let a single soul under 21 in though

is the hot dad every girl wants

sweatpants and tight shirts all day everyday

has beef with gojo

only because gojo ends up damaging the house and getting into wayyy too much trouble

takes everyone out to eat after games, has too many beers, puts the tab solely on gojo and dips

is a very, very handsy drunk

has to be watched at parties when he gets too drunk cause he’ll hit on all the girls

NANAMI—

a business major with a minor in biology, hopes to open his own small time clinic one day

plays on the male volleyball team, is a middle blocker

works out all the time, has a schedule for everything

is known for his "dark academia" style

hates large parties

the only reason he's ever at a party is because he was dragged there by gojo and geto

you can find him in the other room petting the dog

doesn't drink a lot at parties, will maybe have one if he's in the mood

is the rightful dd!!

literally the only voice of reason

always gets you your fav food after parties when he knows you're a little tipsy

would 1,000% rather be home reading

if he ever gets drunk, has to be inside his own home

he's a sleepy, "admits to everything" drunk

you've strictly forbidden gojo from being anywhere near nanami when he's drunk

probably in charge of all snacks for any party

considers gojo a friend but not a friend you’d invite to your wedding

would invite choso to the wedding though

is def saving himself for “the one”

GETO—

double major in psychology & philosophy, has a minor in art(sculpting)

doesn't do any sports but goes to every one of his friend's volleyball games

he and gojo 100% have matching tongue piercings

contacts during the day, wears reading glasses at night

wears nothing but baggy, oversized clothes

def has a streetwear aesthetic

sleeper build 2.0

is an orphan but was adopted into a very well off family

got into college solely on scholarships though

has known, and been best friends, with gojo since childhood

can drink gallos of alcohol and hardly feel tipsy at all like he’s a heavy weight!!

can out drink anyone, even toji

a flirty, flirty drunk

bi king!!!

participated in an orgy once

has the highest body count out of all the men (besides toji ofc)

an instigator especially when it comes to gojo

gojo and him are in charge of inviting people to the parties

also has his nipples pierced but no one knows, not even gojo

covered in tattoos, def has a throat tattoo along with full sleeves and even some on his thighs

him and choso hang out just to paint their nails and drink tea together!!

GOJO—

majors in astrophysics, minors in astromath

plays on the same team as nanami, is a setter/spiker combo

still is addicted t to sweets

has to have sweets to study

is 50% jock and 50% nerd

thinks math and science is so cool

has a matching tongue ring with geto

has a style that screams "old money" (he def came from old money tho)

def think he could pull a “surfer” style off too

a nepo baby too

a horrible influence especially when he’s drunk

“I’ll give you $20 to break this antique vase.”

when he gets drunk-drunk he is just as flirty as geto but is a little more shy

tipsy gojo, talkative, flirty, comedian!! runs all over the place, makes friends easily

absolutely drunk gojo, timid, gets quiet and watches everything and everyone, would 100% tell you in a quiet voice that he loves you before he HIDES

not a light weight at all he just constantly goes over his limit to end up black out drunk

turns bright, bright red as soon as alcohol hits his system

questioning bi!! (experimented with geto once when they were younger)

lost a dare and had to get a horrible tattoo on his ass

the tattoo is squid doodle from spongebob but really badly drawn because a friend def did it

[teddybeartoji]

office au! with coworker!gojo

he's the type to always be a little late. by a little, i of course mean a lot. he always bursts in the door with the biggest smile on his lips and four coffees in his hand. he winks at his coworkers, who then always blush and giggle out a hi, satoru! and you always roll your eyes at that. satoru nods his male coworkers, who always try to dap him up and start a conversation but he doesn't have time for that. he has things to do. (as if he isn't literally Late smh)

he answers the guys' question while he's walking – his eyes set on his favourite coworker. you. sitting in your cubicle, you're trying to ignore him and his dramatic enterance. that he does every single day. how annoying can he be? before you can roll your eyes again, a cup of coffee has landed on your table, making you glance over your shoulder.

he's blinding you, his grin is stretched so wide it's almost a bit creepy. he's standing right behind you, leaning his hand on your table right next to where he just placed the coffee. he's way too close for a co-worker and you gulp.

ugh.

"aren't you gonna thank your favourite coworker for bringing you coffee? whew, tough crowd, huh." his smile doesn't falter and he just leans in closer, his cologne clouding your senses.

UGH.

and he really does do it every single fucking day. he brings you coffee and he annoys you and he makes your eyes roll so hard you almost go blind and you hate to admit that he's kinda cute... it's whatever.

back to the coffees. so one of them is for you – he knows your order because he dug out the receipt from your bag when you weren't looking on his second day there. he almost got caught, too. but he only did that because you didn't wanna tell him your order!! and he was so insistent on bringing you coffee that he just had to find another way. he loved the way your eyes widened and how you tried to mask your surprised expression but nothing gets past his keen eyes. when you asked how he did it, he just told you that he guessed it. yeah, right....

the second coffee is for him. it's an insanely sweet latte. how do you know? he made you try it. more liked begged for you to try it. you also hate to admit that his puppy-dog eyes worked on you... he only drinks the special latte from the corner coffee shop and he refuses to drink the office "coffee". he's fancy like that.

the third coffee is for his second favourite coworker – kento nanami! they sure make an interesting pair. kento is the main reason why satoru even got the job. the latter begged him to pitch for him to the boss; he was so excited by the concept of Office Work and just had to try it out. he, of course, passed the interview with flying colors and kento regrets his decision to "help" him out in the first place. satoru yaps his ears off whenever he isn't doing the same to you and he's constantly leaving little notes for the man. you once saw one and it just had a miniature penis drawn on it. very mature.

and the fourth coffee is for your boss. satoru isn't sucking up like you originally thought he was. you think he just wants to bring her coffee? your boss is cool – she's in her forties and she has a strong voice, everybody always listens to her and she really does make for a very good boss. your guess is that satoru has a crush on her. (you're wrong. he also just thinks she's super fucking cool. literally nothing else to it.)

he's always wearing a fancy white button-up with a black tie loosely hanging around his neck and a pair of matching black slacks that hug his thighs so nicely that the women and the men of the office are always finding it hard to not stare at them. he gets an obnoxious ego boost from this.

he's constantly leaning on other people's desks, pushing his hips out and it really is hard to concentrate whenever he does it. the pose and the smug smirk he sends you when he catches you looking is making you feel hot. he always catches you too, it's so annoying. why can't he just continue doing whatever he's doing so you can admire him in peace?

he's loud, he's annoying and he's so fucking good at his job that firing him couldn't even be a passing thought. he actually does his paperwork rather fast; often finishing before you and that gives him the time to tease you for being slow. he does that way less than you expected though. only a few times in a day – enough to annoy you but never enough to actually make you upset or angry. he actually helps you sometimes. he can tell you don't wanna ask and he doesn't wanna make you feel bad - he'd rather watch you roll your pretty eyes at his stupid jokes with a small hidden smile than roll them with a deep frustrated sigh. he learned that the hard way.

he loves your smile. more often than not you can't keep the straight face you try to put up with him, making your loud laughter resonate throughout the whole office. oh, how his eyes shine at that.

long story short. he's infuriating. he's funny. he's way too good at his job. he's way too handsome. you loathe working with him and yet, you can't stop smothering him in kisses whenever you two "happen" to meet in the printer room.

[cyborg-franky]

PROMPT: wanna hear how you think your favourite character(s) cuddle (or “sleep in the same bed as” if you can’t see them cuddling) their s/o! Scenario or headcanon, doesn’t matter, I wanna hear how you think they cuddle!

GN Reader - SFW

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

Sharing a bed with Ace was both a blessing and a curse, depending on how you felt and how the weather was. Ace was a heater, a clingy heater that would hold you tightly to his chest. His hands would always find a way to grab at you while he slept, sometimes you would wake up with drool on your shoulder, in your hair.

You could feel the sweat between you, it was summer outside and Ace’s extra body head was going to be a problem. You needed to get the seastone bracelet out again. You would always wake up with Ace poking you in the back, he was a young man and tended to get this way.

Not that you minded, much, just sometimes a shower was needed the next morning. You made him wear seastone when he was sick too. The way he would sneeze and set the bed on fire, you’d been in the bathroom the first time it had happened, thankfully you learned from that. That and his nightmares…

Ace was soft though, he held you close, and you’d fall asleep with him whispering sweet things in your ear, just mumbling against your skin. He often fell asleep before you did. Then would come the snoring.

MARCO UNDERCUT

Getting Marco to come to bed with you was often a battle, when you did however it was often pleasant. He was always, always the big spoon. No ifs or buts, if you wanted to swap, he would more than likely fight you. He didn’t snore much, only when he was very tired to the point of passing out on you.

Marco would feel awful about it, he would fix the problem straight away but even someone like him with his great ability to control his devil fruit, sometimes your limbs would be tangled with wings or his cold, scaley and very sharp talons.

He’s nicked you more than once with the sharp points. You’d hiss and yell in your sleep, waking up the zoan and he’d realise what he’d done, quickly healing you and saying he was sorry repeatedly. The healing was nice though.

Speaking of accidental devil fruit powers in the night. Sometimes the wings, the flames, bright, so bright. Would wake you, you’d have to shake Marco awake ‘your too bright, can you… not?’ and he’d chuckle, half asleep.

Marco also wasn’t too hot; he was pleasantly cool on the summer nights. He liked to nuzzle his face against your neck as he was falling asleep. If you wriggled too much, he would be the one to tell you to go sleep on the couch in his office.

[dasketcherz]

thought i'd share my thought process for this fun lil piece / outfit in full display that i whipped out for beckory on valentines cuz i really had a lotta fun making it <3

OKAY first off, big thanks to @leaky-heart for helpin me gather some really cool outfit refs and for lending me resources where I can find a ref for bonnie's guitar in a 3d space. Thank you bestie, yar a life saver <3

Second, @/littleleaflings' jacket—goated af, will never stop gushin bout it aaaaAAA <3

Okay so looking at freddy & bonnie's designs—i am in love with how their dominant and accent colors are opposite of each other like a yin and yang situation. So i absolutely tried to incorporate that when rearranging the palette unto beckory's outfit

Fronnie's colors arent the only contrasting elements about them. Aside from their earrings, even their symbols are a pair—i love how freddy's is a lighting bolt but he is also associated with stars on the side cuz of his branding. While bonnie's is a star but he also has lightning bolts on the side (the purple accent in his fit) to match freddy

And to sprinkle a bit of beckory flair, i put stripe lines across their pants (if you look back on my ref sheet for the squad, the three amigos all have stripes somewhere in their fits, i purposely designed that to be their thing) just to also unify the patterns from their top

i gave tony a scarf to match greg's bow tie accessory. Its a combo homage to bonnie's headband and bunny ears in a way (cuz the ribbons on its ends look like droopy rabbit ears) i gave them gloves to compensate being unable to add punk bracelets on em cuz it would be too much for the overall look (same logic applies to the star shades, its to match with the top hat)

Also this was such a pure coincidence but i also realized beckory wears their fazwatches in the same placement as fronnie wears their earrings on. That actually makes me very happy, i think its a really cool coincidence

And as yall can see, Greg's jacket initially had stars on his sleeves (like it does in the ref), but i decided against putting it in the final cuz im startin to think it might look cluttered and hard to read from afar and tbh, I really liked how the translucent sleeves turned out... I didnt want the star pattern to cover it up lol

And thats pretty much it, thank you coming to my ted talk!! <3

if youre interested to see more of my art process compilation like this you can check over on my ko-fi page, you can support me by buying me a latte cuz I am planning to post more exclusive stuff like this over there in the future so I hope yall look forward to that! I deeply appreciate yall and thank you so much in advance!!