#he's SWIMMING in that beanie

[tbaluver]

Hey!

I love your husband/dad version of the love and deepspace boys!

I was wondering if you could do like headcanons or something of them picking out outfits for the baby or babies?

Maybe add Caleb only if you want to or are comfortable with it, I don't see much with him and since he's a new love interest i wonder what it would be like for him?

Love your work!!!

Picking Out Baby Clothes With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my lovely ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ MWAH thank you so much my angel for reading my works !! i love writing them as dads or soon to be dads so much so this was a rlly cute headcanon to write (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ hopefully i did this justice pls lmk but if not ill try to add more later ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ i hope you enjoy reading ! p.s i love ur banner (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier was in complete awe the moment he stepped into the store with you. Everything looked so small and the thought of your future baby would eventually fit into all these tiny clothes hit him hard. He couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest that his child was already growing so fast and he wanted to savor every moment of it.

Shopping for baby essentials was easy enough but shopping for clothes were a different story. Xavier stood beside you in the baby clothing aisle, looking at the tags with a confused expression. He was unsure if he should show you the 0-3 month size one or the 3-6 month one, so he’ll just grab both sizes and explain to you later that your little one would grow into them eventually. Plus it would look cute to look back on and compare from how much they've grown.

But what really got Xavier were the onesies. He kinda blacked out and picked out so many without even realizing it. Each one made him imagine how adorable your baby would look in it, tiny with their squishy little cheeks as if they were a little plushie.

Zayne:

Zayne would start off with a basket in his hand as you both strolled through the store so you can keep your arms linked together, just in case you started feeling tired, even if you were still in your early stages of pregnancy. But he’ll quickly swap it out with a cart after noticing how much energy and time you were putting into picking out baby clothes.

You’d catch the softest smile on his face whenever he picked up the smallest items. Tiny socks that were meant for a three month old that could barely stretch over his thumb or the little beanies that shrunk when he compared them to his hands. The clothes were tinier than he’d ever imagined and he couldn’t help but imagine how quickly your little one would soon arrive and would be growing into them soon.

Zayne would let you be in charge on picking out the ones that caught your eye whether it were bright colors or playful patterns, he’ll give you the space to choose whatever style you liked best for the baby. Every now and then, he’ll hold up a piece, showing you the ones he thought would be perfect for your future baby. His choices would always be thoughtful, carefully deciding the style and material that would keep them warm on chilly days or nights or light, breathable materials for warmer months.

Rafayel:

You two would spend HOURS in that store, completely immersed in picking out clothes for your little children that are due in a few more months. Each piece would vary on the color for the seasons. Every outfit and piece sparked a conversation, discussing why each piece would be cute on your babies and why they need it. It didn't take long to persuade him and it would immediately be in the cart

But before you knew it, wandering further into the store were toddler sized outfits and Rafayel was already imagining your babies growing up, they weren’t even born yet.

He’d get ahead of himself, picking out swimwear for your babies, picturing their first dip into the water with him and then later on, their first swim together. He’d also start choosing adorable outfits that would match or compliment each other's outfits for the perfect family photos you’d take together in the future.

Sylus:

You both already did your fair share of online shopping together with him, filling up the online cart with baby clothes you liked and loved. Sylus would make sure to select the express delivery even though your baby wasn’t due for a couple months, plus it's not like it'll hurt his card anyway. But if you ever felt like that wasn’t enough and you wanted to see more in person, he won't hesitate to take you out to shop.

This would already be your third cart in the store while Luke and Kieran wrap up the other two carts that were filled with baby supplies and toys you both might need. Now, the current cart was almost overflowing with baby clothes you thought would be perfect for your little one in a few months.

Sylus would let you roam around the aisles, admiring how focused you were while he pushed the cart around. He'd also throw in a few suggestions of matching outfits with your baby. Some could be for an event or just some casual wear that you could match with them at home. He would also have to remind you that the adorable little pieces you showed him were already ordered online, a little smirk tugging on his lips as he watched you fall in awe with the clothes all over again.

Caleb:

Shopping with Caleb would be filled with excitement and nostalgia. He’d pick out baby clothes that reminded him of what you wore when you were younger, he just wants his little baby to look just as cute as their mama. He’d also gravitate towards anything with adorable apple designs, which also means getting cute little baby bibs for them when they're ready for feeding

The entire time you two are shopping, he’ll frequently hold up a tiny outfit, his eyes lighting up as he explains to you how it reminded him of you when you were younger, no matter how embarrassing the story was, he'll manage to convince you to add it to the cart. He’d imagine how adorable it would be if a mini version of you wore it. He'll also add in a toddler apron so they can cook beside him in the kitchen in the future

He’s already planning ahead and imagining recreating those precious childhood photos of you and wanting to capture those same moments with your little one soon.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑵𝒐 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 // 𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The air was thick in your lungs before the match even started. You were bundled on the bench in an oversized coat, fleece lined and zipped up to your chin, a beanie pulled low over your ears. Your chest ached with every breath, your nose was red and raw, and the antibiotics they’d prescribed had barely kicked in yet. The pneumonia had flattened you for days. Fever, fatigue, body aches, the whole lot. But you’d refused to stay home. Being benched was one thing. Not showing up at all felt unthinkable.

You were used to pain. Used to pushing through. But even you had to admit you felt like shit.

The match was halfway through when it happened. Ingrid went down hard - cleat to the ankle - and didn’t get back up. Your stomach twisted as you watched the physios rush over. You sat forward, eyes narrowing, and then came the dreaded signal from the bench: she wasn’t getting up

Mapi looked back toward the coaching staff in a panic. You heard someone mutter, “We’ve used up all the subs.”

Pere swore under his breath, and you stood immediately.

“I’ll go on,” you said hoarsely, the words rasping out of your sore throat.

He spun around. “You’re on antibiotics. You’re barely upright.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, and you weren’t lying, not entirely. Adrenaline could carry you ninety minutes. Maybe. Probably. You didn’t even know what minute they were in now.

He hesitated. “You’re wheezing.”

“I’ve played worse.”

Pere looked like he might actually strangle you, and honestly, if he didn’t say yes, you might’ve forced your way on anyway.

“We’ll be down a player,” you reminded him. “That can’t happen. You know it can’t.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’ve got twenty minutes left in you?”

“Yeah,” you coughed into your elbow. “I’ll make it count.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, and you pulled off the coat, wincing at the sudden sting of cold air. You moved stiffly, shaking out your arms, jogging on the spot while a medic stood nearby just in case. Your lungs burned immediately, but you gritted your teeth through it. You were used to hurting. You were not used to sitting still.

When the substitution board went up, the crowd gave a little cheer…until they saw your face.

You didn’t even want to look at Alexia as you jogged on, but you saw her anyway. She stood near the halfway line, arms crossed, watching you like she might physically drag you back to the bench. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and fury, and you knew that look. It said: Are you kidding me right now?

You avoided her eyes.

It wasn’t like you wanted to be on the pitch like this. You hadn’t been trying to be a hero. But she didn’t understand, not fully. She hadn’t grown up the same way you had, hadn’t played in some of the places you’d played, where going one man down wasn’t just a tactical disadvantage, it was a death sentence. Your body wasn’t fine, but your heart wouldn’t let you sit there and watch.

And so you gave it your all. Every run, every ball you chased, every tackle, every pass - it took something out of you.

Alexia ran by you at one point and caught your arm. “Estás bien?”

You barely nodded. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe you. You could see it in her face.

But she let you go.

Eventually, the whistle blew sharp and final, cutting through the noise of the crowd like a knife. Around you, your teammates were celebrating the win - arms raised, shouts of victory echoing across the pitch - but all you could do was bend over, hands braced on your knees, lungs clawing for air that just wouldn’t come.

Everything hurt.

The inside of your chest felt like it was filled with wet concrete. Each breath you tried to take was ragged and shallow, your head swimming as spots flickered at the corners of your vision. Your body was overheating despite the chill in the air, skin clammy with sweat, and your shirt clung to you like it was soaked through. You could hear the noise - cheering, clapping, even someone calling your name - but it felt far away, like you were underwater.

You straightened up, just enough to try and walk, but your knees buckled slightly and you stumbled a step. You tried to recover, but the moment you reached out blindly for support, someone was already there - arms wrapping around your waist before you could hit the ground.

Alexia.

Of course it was Alexia.

She caught you like she always did, firm and grounding, but there was no softness in the way she held you. Her jaw was clenched tight, her grip secure but far from gentle, and when she pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression was dark. Angry. Frustrated. And beneath it all, scared.

“¿Qué hiciste?” she muttered, voice low, nearly swallowed by the noise around you. Her eyes flicked across your face, noting every sign of distress. Your flushed cheeks. Your glassy eyes. The way your shoulders shook just from standing.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. Your throat was raw, and your chest burned, and trying to speak felt like trying to breathe through a straw.

Alexia’s hands came up to cup your face, but even that felt heavy. “Mierda,” she hissed, stepping closer to steady you. “No te ves bien, mi amor.”

You opened your mouth, trying to downplay it - trying to say something like I’m okay, but nothing came out except a rough, wheezing cough that doubled you over. Alexia caught you again, her hand rubbing firm circles into your back, but now you felt her fingers trembling.

The medical staff were there a few seconds later, rushing over as soon as they saw the state you were in. Pere looked pale, and guilty, but you barely registered him. Everything was blurry, sounds distorted. Someone was pressing a cold oxygen mask to your face, and your legs finally gave out.

Alexia didn’t let go. She sank down with you, one arm still wrapped tightly around your torso, her other hand in yours.

They were talking about getting you off the pitch, fast, about vitals and oxygen levels, and all you could do was nod faintly through the haze. You weren’t sure how they got you onto the stretcher. Weren’t even sure when your hand slipped from Alexia’s, or when the stadium lights above gave way to the dark tunnel inside the stadium.

It was the locker room again. Cold bench beneath you, oxygen mask over your face, someone untying your boots and removing your shin pads. You weren’t shaking as much now, but only because you felt numb. Your head lolled back against the wall.

“Where’s-“

“She’s coming,” one of the physios said quietly, already knowing who you meant.

And then she was there.

Alexia’s face appeared in your line of vision, pinched and pale, but her touch was finally gentle again. Her hand found yours as she crouched beside you, not saying anything for a moment, just watching you breathe, making sure you were still breathing.

“Estás loca,” she whispered eventually. Her thumb brushed over your knuckles, voice thick with emotion. “No deberías haber jugado.”

You nodded faintly. You couldn’t argue. You didn’t want to.

“I had to,” you rasped, barely audible. “No one else.”

Her eyes snapped to yours, and you saw the hurt behind the anger. “I don’t care,” she said, this time in English, her accent thick and her voice trembling. “I don’t care, cariño. Not if it means this. Not if it means you can’t breathe.”

You blinked slowly, chest rising and falling under the mask.

Alexia climbed onto the bench beside you, sitting down so close that your sides touched, her arm slipping around your waist. You leaned into her instinctively, exhausted beyond words, your cheek pressing against her collarbone as she kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“No lo hagas otra vez,” she murmured into your hair, arms tightening around you. “Prometelo. Por favor.”

You nodded, letting your eyes fall shut. She tightened her hold around you, hand slipping beneath your jersey to rest against the clammy skin of your side. Her thumb moved gently, lulling you into a light doze. You didn’t know how long you sat there together, only that you didn’t move until you were stable enough to be taken to the team doctor, until you could finally speak without coughing, and until Alexia believed you were okay enough to let go.

She helped you into your hoodie, zipped it up for you, and carried your bag without asking.

And when you finally got home, she made sure you took your meds, got into bed, and tucked yourself under the covers. Then she slipped in beside you, curling into your side for once, her head on your chest as she listened to your breathing slowly even out.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[pucksandpower]

F1 Secret Santa 2023 Summary

Lance to Fernando: a captain hat for his new yacht and a bottle of wine

Yuki to Lance: a beanie (or toque in Canadian)

Zhou to Yuki: a Chinese cookbook and an apron

Charles to Zhou: a (second) Bottass calendar that he tried to return to Charles only for Charles to give it back to him again

Fernando to Charles: a padel racket

Nico to Pierre: a tripod 😉

Esteban to Nico: a 🥱 mug

George to Esteban: a Spider-Man travel mug, carrying case, and neck pillow

Kevin to George: a Santa Hoptimist (Danish figurine)

Logan to Kevin: a “shhh … I’m watching racing with daddy” onesie and a book about the best road trips in the USA

Lando to Logan: a Miami Heat mini hoop and basketball

Pierre to Lando: the actual gift (a headcover with Lando’s face on it) didn’t arrive in time so an “OnlyPutts” golf marker as a placeholder

Oscar to Alex: customized golf balls

Daniel to Oscar: a koala t-shirt and Christmas candies (is it still Secret Santa if your Secret Santa is impatient and spoils that he is your Secret Santa before you can even open your gift?)

Checo to Daniel: limited edition tequila

Alex to Checo: a Williams teddy bear and kids clothing plus Alex Albon Athletics sneakers

Max to Valterri: “A Simply Lovely Look at the Butt in Art” (a book of those photos of Valterri overlaid on existing pieces of art)

Carlos to Max: a vintage arcade mini

Valterri to Carlos: chilli pepper swim briefs and chilli hot sauce

[applecidersturniolo]

tatted.

(nerve au.)

in which..biker!chris gets dared to get stoner!readers name tatted..

> this blurb is inspired by this ask!

“a-ah! fuckin’ shit..” chris cursed as the needle applied pressure to his skin, you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself as you held up the phone, showing off chris’ pale hip bone as the needle dragged across it. the black ink engraving your name into him.

comments from watchers flooded in

HOLY SHIT!?

does it hurt??

omg he’s actually getting her name tatted.

me next asf.

you couldn’t help but giggle at the comments, “yep..that’s my name..on chris..forever” it was almost like you were processing what was happening as you were saying it.

your stomach turned. this was on him for good. so every time he looked in the mirror? right there. every time he wore boxers or swimming trunks? there it was. every time another girl saw him naked? there it was. every time the bridge of their nose brushed against his hip as they suck him off-

“stoner.” chris huffed out, you blinked a few times and looked up at chris, “yeah?” you muttered as you glanced back down at the tattoo that was currently being wrapped. “you a’ight?” he muttered as he tilted his head to the side, trying to meet your gaze.

you swallowed down the lump in your throat, “yeah um..yeah ‘m good-“ you coughed out as you leaned back in the chair. your leg slightly shaking.

chris glanced back down at the tattoo then back at you, “really don’t mind it” chris smirked, you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows. “w-what?” you hummed as you adjusted in your seat. how could he possibly be okay with this? his first tattoo being a girls name he had only met a few days ago..

“ ‘s pretty” chris smirked as his finger slowly grazed the plastic wrap that covered the ink.

you put your tongue in your cheek, “you think my name is pretty?” you scoffed slightly at his sudden softness.

“said the tattoo is pretty,” chris shot back, he watched as your lips slightly gapped, probably about to say some bratty comment.

“just fuckin’ with ya..” chris laughed a bit. “y’name is pretty..you’re pretty..blah, blah, fuckin’ blah” chris joked as he adjusted his beanie.

your cheeks fell flushed at his words, your ears suddenly feeling hot, “y’mean that?” you muttered

chris kissed his teeth with his tongue, “do i ever lie?” you knew the answer. no. he never lied, he hated liars.

“looks like you just answered y’own question sweetheart”

DARE COMPLETED

$1000 IS NOW IN CHRISSTURNIOLO’S NERVE ACCOUNT.

divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

TAGS: @sosasturns @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @angelic-sturniolos111 @babytomatoes21 @sturnboos @deadxrx @owenstar @m4gz-png @obsessedwiththesturniolos @thecrawlys @ncm9696 @joanakaulitz @lezleeferguson-120

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything's peachy. I've been waiting for your requests to be open since probably December. I figured, maybe I could leave you my thoughts and you'll decide what to do with them. Is that fine? 😅 You can throw it straight to the trash if you'd like.

So that now every F1 Team have a girl driver in F1 Academy, I thought maybe they want to promote the Academy more and includes it in DTS series. So the reader is a driver for Ferrari. They assign her to Carlos and they've to film a Training camp before the season. Carlos sort of being her PT. Plot twist: they HATE each other. But their combined fury can easily catch on fire and lead them to other type of sport, more sensual one. So it's like enemies but/to lovers sort of thing. A lot of arguing, angst but also a bunch of steamy sex

The Uphill Battle || CS55

Warnings: Smut, angst, name calling WC: 1.8k

Pre-season Training - Dolomites This had to be the worst PR disaster in the making. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Jr Sainz needed to fall right off this mountainside. To make matters worse, they had a TV crew following you around all day and you were fairly sure your suite was bugged like Big Brother.

“Hurry up, I want to make it back in time for dinner,” Carlos growled as he stopped to look back at you. 

You narrowed your eyes, not that he could see them beneath the snow goggles, and sarcastically replied, “Oh no, baby boy can’t go to bed without his supper.”

He stabbed his sticks into the snow and pulled his googles up over his beanie. “You think I want to be out here babysitting a spoiled little brat? I am crawling just so you don’t get left behind and lost up here. Pick. Up. The. Pace.”

“Fuck you,” you spat as you pushed harder, your calves protesting the hardship you were putting them through to prove a point. You overtook the Spaniard and made sure to only just miss his foot from the piercing pike on your ski stick. “Keep up, Junior.”

You were both panting by the time you arrived back at the luxury accommodation in the resort town at the base of the mountain. You were starving but you were also damp with sweat beneath the layers of cashmere and feather-stuffed coats so you went straight to the private pool. You figured after the whining Carlos had done about his dinner you wouldn’t be disturbed in the heated outdoor pool, but you were wrong.

Carlos curled a brow at the trail of clothes that led from the twin penthouse suites to the rooftop pool they shared, each layer getting thinner until it ended with a sports bra and panties. Snow littered the ground and he shivered in his bathrobe as he watched you float on the surface of the steaming water with your eyes closed. You looked relaxed, peaceful. It was a look he rarely saw on your face and it immediately washed away when you opened your eyes and caught him watching.

“Dirty perv,” you hissed as you slipped back beneath the water up to your neck and covered your breasts. 

“I’m not the one going for a skinny dip. You’re just looking for attention.”

“I don’t have to look for attention, it comes looking for me,” you said as you eyed up the goosebumps on his legs below the robe. “I figured you were too busy stuffing your face.”

“The Netflix crew were in the dining hall,” he admitted quietly.

“Ah, so you are not nearly as comfortable in front of them as you act. Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t think that would be hard.”

“I hope your balls get frostbite.”

Carlos winced at the idea and took a step closer to the water's edge and the warmth it promised. 

“If you get in here with me we are going to have a problem,” you warned, swimming closer to defend your territory. “There’s no cameras around to keep you safe.”

Carlo snickered and dipped his foot in. “I’ve seen your training in the ring, I think I can handle it.”

“Brave words when you are all the way over there.”

Your blood could have heated the water to boiling point as he slipped his robe off and tossed it over the rail before taking another step in, then another. You watched the water disappear over his skin tight trunks and darken the happy trail before rising over his abs. The team at Ferrari at least assigned you someone who was taking their PT position seriously, you could see from his physique that he kept his own routine solid and you could learn a thing or two - if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“Take a picture, malcriada,” he said with a wink when your eyes finally reached his face.

“Such a shame,” you murmured wistfully.

“What?”

You dragged your eyes back over his body before sighing. “That a body that fine has a personality like yours.”

A wave splashed over you as he dove into the water and you lost sight of him in the dark. You should have put the underwater lights on but hadn’t wanted to light the water up when you hadn’t bothered to even change into a bikini. 

A large hand grabbed your ankle and you barely had time to inhale a breath before you were pulled under. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he was gone again and you spluttered to the surface, wiping the water from your eyes. “Asshole!” 

“Is that the best you can do?” he laughed from the edge he was leisurely reclining against. 

“Come here and find out.”

He slipped beneath the water but this time you were prepared and met him halfway. Your bodies collided, twisting and turning trying to fathom some kind of dominance until your legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to the bottom with you on top. His hands found your thighs and dug into the soft skin until your lips parted with a sudden thought and the last of your air bubbled to the surface. 

“Not the attack I was expecting,” he taunted as he rose to the surface behind you. The water falling from his hair cooled as it dropped to your shoulder and his hand traced the curve of your neck. “Someone plays dirty.”

“I’m not playing.” Your voice wasn’t the cold detached sound you had hoped it would be, but a needy sigh. Your legs pressed together and you were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. 

“Is that another invitation? You almost won that time.”

You turned around with a glare to find his smirk growing as wide as his pupils as he looked down at your body. “It’s not a fair fight anyway. I am naked and vulnerable.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t think anyone could mistake you as vulnerable, malcriada, not with that prickly attitude and sharp tongue. But, if it would make you feel better about losing again…” his hands brushed over his hips and pushed his trunks down his thighs before he tossed them out of the pool. “Happy now?”

“I’m certainly something,” you murmured before realising you spoke aloud. Anger flushed your body again at the distraction he caused and you shoved your hand across the surface, spraying him in the face with the water. His momentary surprise was only that, momentary, and he leapt into your personal space with his own attack.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, or how it started. Maybe the tension that had been brimming all week finally reached its breaking point and it was a mutual decision. One moment you were writhing to escape from his attack, your hands trying to find purchase on his body as you wriggled in his arms, the next you were writhing for an entirely different reason. 

His chest brushed over your sensitive peaks and your nails scraped down his back. Your legs tightened around his waist and felt the large length pressed between your stomachs. Your heads broke the surface but the gasp had nothing to do with the need for air when his palms squeezed your ass to hold you still. 

“What are you doing?” you moaned as you clit pressed to his shaft and every little movement rode you over the rigid veins. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping as he felt the heat of your core on him. “I’m trying to not fuck you right now.”

“Right, because you hate me,” you laughed humorlessly as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but you both moaned at the feeling.

“No, because you hate me.”

It had been a while since you last had sex, that was the excuse you gave for being so needy and wanting to be filled right at that moment. “I can hate you and still want to fuck.”

Carlos stared into your eyes and saw the desire in them, felt the desire that had your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “Fuck it,” he decided aloud. “I can hate you and still make you come.”

“Bold words.”

He didn’t give you a response, at least not in words. His strong hands lifted you higher and pulled you back down on his cock. Your teeth clamped around the muscle where his shoulder met his neck and he groaned at the pain and your muffled cry. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You’re too big,” you whispered as he slowly speared you down his shaft until you looked down your body expecting to see a bugle at your belly button. Easing you back up, he set a slow rhythm as your body adjusted to his size and walked you both to the edge of the pool.

“You can take it,” he promised as your legs untangled from around him and you found yourself facing the mountain you had climbed earlier. His hips snapped forward and buried himself back in you from behind and your cry echoed out into the night. “That’s it, make an avalanche, malcriada.”

You didn’t care that he called you brat. You didn’t care if you brought the mountain down on the whole town. You only cared about reaching your own high and you chased it with your hips, pushing back to meet him stroke for stroke. Waves rippled out across the water and soon turned to splashes as your core tightened and those ripples began to make their way down your spine.

“I can feel you shaking,” he teased in your ear, his hand snaking over your hip to find your clit. “Let go, dulce, let me feel you come.”

Your eyes slammed shut as waves of pleasure rocked through you and his name tumbled from your lips, betraying yourself with the reverent tone it held. His pleasure grew at the sound and he slammed himself as deep as he could in your cunt, letting your tight walls milk him as he came. There should have been anger at the idea of being filled with his seed, but you took delight in the liquid warmth pooling inside you. You had made him come undone, it was a win of sorts in your mind.

Satisfied for the moment, you pushed his body back and walked up the steps, into the biting cold night. Carlos was still high from his release and he didn't realise until it was too late. You were already halfway to the suites when he noticed his robe was missing, a quick scan of the snow confirmed his trunks had found the same fate.

“Brat!” he called out as you disappeared inside.

“Asshole.”

Click here for part two.

[thefanficmonster]

Vy, do you still write for Corpse Husband?? If so could you write about an neighbours to lovers?

Hi dear!

Thank you so much for the request! You know I love a good neighbors to lovers story 😉

Hope you enjoy ❤

Greetings From Next-Door

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing?

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers, FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse is probably the first and only person to receive a reverse noise complaint

It hasn't been a good morning for Corpse. It's barely been a morning, if we're being honest.

He woke up after three hours of restless sleep feeling more tired than he had felt before painstakingly drifting off at the crack of dawn. He had fifteen minutes of 'morning' to spare before noon rolled around and he dragged himself to the kitchen, swinging the fridge door open to a massive disappointment. Had the scene been a cartoon, a fly would've strayed its way out of the vacant fridge. Then again, using cartoon logic, Corpse could easily draw food to fill the fridge with.

But this is real life. And in real life food costs money that Corpse is strapped for. Grocery delivery is not a privilege he can rely on any longer, hasn't been for a few months even. So every couple weeks, like clockwork, comes the dreaded day calling for a grocery run. And it always starts the same: a vacant kitchen; an attempt to convince himself he doesn't need food to survive; a grumble from his empty stomach disagreeing with him; and finally - surrender.

That's how Corpse just barely managed to usher himself out the door. His all-black attire - accessorized with a black facemask and beanie over which he's also thrown the hood of his hoodie - makes him unassuming, mysterious and unapproachable all in tandem which is precisely the 'aesthetic' he goes for every time he steps foot outside the comfort and safety of his shoebox apartment.

Good thing his kitchen decided to be barren on such a shitty day - rain is pouring down in sheets, the dark clouds are so thick that time cannot be discerned by simply looking up at the sky - it's been the same shade of dark and depressing grey since 6 AM. And Corpse loves it. He just wishes he could have appreciated it from the warmth of his dry and quiet home instead of experiencing it head-on. Not to mention that he's soaked for the most part due to his aversion to umbrellas.

By the time he makes it home with two bags of groceries hooked in each of his hands he feels like he should be wringed out like a towel. The dark curls that are sticking out from beneath his beanie are damp and stuck to his forehead, the mask on his face is soaked and almost impossible to breathe through to the point where he finally bites the bullet and drags it down to beneath his chin. His shoes have a colony of fish living in each one and his groceries are swimming in their bags. But despite the massive inconvenience, his relief to finally be done with the task isn't dampened (pun semi-intended).

However, he's in for a mild infuriation when he approaches his apartment door, keys in hand, and sees a note stuck to the dark wood, the paper ominously contrasting against it.

For a moment, he believes the worst of it - an eviction notice. Is there a valid reason for him to be getting evicted? Absolutely not. Is the landlord and ass though? Absolutely, and Corpse knows the dude is no stranger to the distaste he harbors for him.

He's just about to completely ignore the note for the time being and push into the apartment in favor of drying off and organizing his groceries but an interesting detail jumps out at him from the white page as he goes to unlock the door.

The note is written in cursive in a glittery purple gel pen. Not really the font or format of an eviction notice or complaint, is it?

Corpse pushes the door open, setting the bags down in the foyer before stepping back out to retrieve the piece of paper and read it with far more curiosity than dread this time.

To his surprise and amusement, the note reads:

~ Dear neighbor, You don't know me and I don't know you. But that's irrelevant. I just know you have an amazing taste in music and whatever it is you're blaring in the middle of the night, I'd like you to play it louder so I can at least Shazam it because holy shit do I love it! Keep up the great DJing, neighbor!

PS: Sorry if the letter caused mild discomfort upon first sight. No complaints here! :) I hope the purple ink translated that ~

The relief that washes over him after the third time re-reading the note feels almost like a physical weight being removed from atop his chest and he can finally get his breathing in order. Which then turns into laughter, wholehearted cackling that has him leaning against the hallway wall, groceries all but momentarily forgotten by his feet.

Later that day, in the evening, he does indeed blast the music he typically listens to as motivation and inspiration for his own discography. Despite the blaring speakers, he still manages to hear the three distinct knocks on the wall connecting him to the next unit over. It brings a genuine smile to his face, knowing exactly what it means.

The roundabout way of their communication brings him great comfort. It makes him feel far less alone, the loneliness punctured by the knowledge that there is someone right next door who he managed to make smile if only even briefly.

Thing is, Corpse doesn't want it to end. He realizes that when he finds himself peeking out into the hallway of his building so he can check the other side of his front door for the potential new letter from his neighbor. The realization only sinks in further when he feels the flood of disappointment engulf him upon the sight of the letter-less door.

So, that seals the deal for him. He decides to take it upon himself to not let it end.

It takes him a long time to locate something to write on that isn't a napkin or a paper towel. Even longer to find a working pen. But once he does, he sits down at his computer desk to write a note of his own.

~ Dear Neighbor, Hope you enjoyed the concert last night. Not my typical style to blast music but how can I say no to the Neighborhood Watch. But hey, I don't mind whatsoever - it's the closest thing to a party I've had in years. Seeing as how we seem to share the same preference for music, here's a link to a curated playlist I've been adding to for almost a decade now. There's plenty of hidden gems in there I'm sure you'll enjoy. Feel free to be the one to blast the tunes this time

Greetings from next-door ~

He can't help but laugh to himself as he writes down the whole URL to his Spotify playlist, but even the ridiculousness of that doesn't seem to deter him from his mission.

The next morning, during a teetering predicament of standing on a stool trying to change the lightbulb in the hallway, Corpse hears a laugh echo out in the hallway right beside the door to his unit.

He hops down and takes a look outside the peephole to see what's going on and sure enough, it's his neighbor, having found the note he'd left taped to their door the night before.

He feels a genuine smile spread across his face, a certain warmth flooding his chest. He can still hardly believe he went out of his way to establish communication with a total stranger - something so out of his comfort zone it might as well be in the stratosphere - but that laugh makes it all so worth it.

And there indeed is a party that night as well, with songs he knows all too well blaring from the other side of the wall, loud enough to shake the building. And man, does he love it.

He'd never thought he'd come to think this one day, but he never wants to not have a party (like this one anyway) again.

[lilacgaby]

You don't understand how much I love the is he proposing or... and can you do hawks or shoto please?

is he proposing or has he been staring at bridal magazines often, asking your opinion on the floral, white dresses?

is he proposing or has he been taking your hand into his, and commenting on which gems he think would compliment your skin color?

is he proposing or has he been taking you to boutiques more frequently after your dates, asking you to try on dresses and buy all the ones that you like?

is he proposing or has he been questioning you more at home, his head in your lap as you watch tv, about what dates are your favorites?

is he proposing or has he been choosing cheesy romcoms that all end in wedding scenes, and jokingly re-enacting some lines with you?

is he proposing or did he send you off with fuyumi one day to go spoil yourselves? you two getting mani-pedis, your hair done, facials, waxings, and her asking some 'random' questions too? l

is he proposing or did he ask you to take the month off (he doesn't know why you work anyways)?

is he proposing or did he fly you two out to his summer home, spending week after week going on hikes, building sandcastles on the beach, swimming in exclusive jacuzzis, and dining on the coast?

is he proposing or did hand you a shell he 'found in the sand', though instead of a pearl it held a huge, sapphire stone with the first words from his planned vows embedded in the side of the ring?

you were momentarily rendered speechless as you looked to find shoto on one knee, looking up at you with a soft smile on his face. he recited perfectly memorized vows to you, speaking on how much he loved you, how he wished to be with you forever, and how beautiful he thought you are. he barely had a chance to ask before you slung your arms around his neck and hugged him, your laughs being the only sound besides the crashing waves. as you released him, your legs on top of his as he finally slipped the ring onto your fingers, you decided to take a walk on the moonlit beach to celebrate your first night as fiancés.

tags: @thrivingaintmything @hyunsuks-beanie @cupidsblonde

[mossygirl333]

kinkmas- day 2

John Price x assistant!reader

synopsis: Price had no one to celebrate Christmas with, his ex-wife got the kids this year. It was lonely in the house, coping with beer and a good cigar. But when a sweet little lass like you comes to his doorstep with cookies and a present, he has to let you in! And reward you of course, you were always such an attentive assistant, now it's his turn to be attentive.

Tw/Cw: mentions of divorce, mentions of cheating, groping, daddy kink sorta???, slow sex, praise, male + female masturbation

Smut under the cut!!

Christmas felt real shitty this year. Standing alone in a dead silent home, barely having the energy to put ornaments on the tree. He would've been a bit more jolly if his kids were around, he would never ruin their Christmas, but now that Christina took them out with her new husband, he was rarely in the mood to do anything.

Warm liquid burned down his throat, the light flickering off the amber bottle. Whiskey breath was heavy on his tongue, wiping the drink off his chapped lips. Head swimming with the buzz of alcohol, an escape from the thoughts that plagued him.

That whore. That whore took everything from him and got to keep everything. With her new husband, military too, she seemed to have a type for them. A new baby on the way, the Facebook posts he stalked only hurt his hardened heart more.

He shook the thought from his head, bringing the bottle to his lips. Huffing out a sigh when the doorbell suddenly rang. Old creaky joints strained when he got up, an ache settling into his lower back.

John slid his hand to the cool wood, practically pulsating under his fingertips. Eye peering out of the peephold.

All he could see for a moment was the top of your beanie, before your eyes looked up...His assistant? Why were you here, with a tin full of-

He swung open the door. "Cookies?" He raised a thick brow, startling you a little.

"Price!" You laugh off your skittishness. "I'm sorry, I just baked more cookies than I needed and thought maybe-"

"Just call me John dear." His warm voice bellowed deep in his chest, gently taking the tin from your hands. Warm digits sliding across your stiff cold ones. "Come in, ya look freezing."

You couldn't even decline his offer before he's tugging you inside. Dragging you along into his living room. "Ya want somethin' to drink swee'heart?"

You laugh, shaking off your jacket. "It's warm in here. And anythings okay." Setting down the tin of cookies on his coffee table, settling down awkwardly on his couch.

"Mulled wine alright?"

"Oh yeah that's good." You nod, watching his burly form walk off. A heat starting to form In your cheeks. You had never been in Prices- Johns home before. And seeing him out of uniform was a new experience. In a tight black T-shirt and flannel pants? Watching his muscles bulge and tense, those gentle hands that grabbed yours. Made you dizzy.

You settled on the wine glass set in front of you, John grabbing the tin and sitting closer than he needed to. You could see how his chest heaved ever so slightly, fabric stretched across his massive chest. "What's in here luvie?"

"Oh um!" You snap out of your staring, peering into the box. "Those are gingersnaps, sugar cookies I decorated myself, those are some Aberffraw biscuits - good in tea ya know."

"Very good in tea." He mumbles, shifting through them. "Thank you. So much, this means-" John leans in slightly, the smell of alcohol filling your nose. "-a lot to me."

"I'm glad." You whisper. If you leaned in another inch, you'd end up kissing him. And you didn't know what to do with that information.

"Any way I can...repay? This generous gift?" He tilts his head, his warm palm sliding over your thighs. Giving a small squeeze.

A flash of heat boiled up In your belly, swirling and spreading till your limbs felt tingly, swallowing thickly your lips parted. An invitation.

He took it with fervor.

Whiskey stained lips pressed into yours, meaty hands grabbing at you to tug you impossibly closer. "Wanted to kiss you for so long-"

You choke slightly, feeling him grip at your throat, settling on top of you. Pinned to his couch cushions, your knees slid up and ankles locked behind his back. Your hands finally settling on his broad shoulders.

He pushes you deeper, groping and squeezing at anything he could reach. Sliding your shirt up, beard scratching at your skin. He softens up a bit, pulling away. "M'going to fast-" He shakes his cloudy head.

"You're fine." The words came out more breathless than you wanted to, heart beating rapidly against your chest, almost like a rabbit thumping away.

"No- no...gotta savor you. Just how I wanted to."

You paused for a moment, before settling into a more comfortable position on the bed.

His lips explored your skin, leaving trails of heat and moisture behind. Slowly grinding his swollen cock against the edge of your thighs, hips stuttering ever so slightly. He breathes heavily against the valley between your breasts, licking and dragging his tongue around your buds.

"So...good f'me..." John murmurs, palms kneading into the doughy flesh of your hips, nuzzling in deep. "Need ta see ya luvie, all of ya"

Your thighs quiver slightly, jeans sliding down and being tossed aside. Eyes blown out, tongue heavy in his mouth as he looks down at your soaked panties. "God...wet huh?"

"I am." You weakly laughed, cheeks red and hot as you watched him. "God I really am.." You trial off, feeling his fingers loop the fabric and tug them down. A trail of slick, glistening and sliding down your puffy folds. Shudders running down both your spines.

The front of his pants go undone, the zipper sliding down his aching cock. Springing out, fat and heavy, throbbing just for you. Beads of precum sliding down his red shaft.

You suck in a breath, holding it as he sits back. "Aren't you...gonna fuck me?" It came out shyly, squirming slightly as his eyes burned holes into your exposed body.

"Not yet. Touch yourself for me. Please." He swallows thickly, calloused palm wrapping around his base. Slowly stroking to get himself lubed up.

Your fingers timidly go down to your wet pussy, hot and twitchy. Biting your lip in slight embarrassment. Have you touched yourself to the thought of Captain Price? Yes. Too many times. But that was in the privacy of your own bedroom, where you could cry for him and no one would hear. Price didn't have to know, he didn't have to know how bothered he made you.

But now, it was too late to go back. So you swallowed your pride and dignity, and slide two digits into your cunt. Warmth enveloped your hand, slick sliding down into your palm as you pumped your fingers in and out. Timing them with the thrusts of his hips, Johns thumb swirling around the fat leaky tip.

Your hips stuttered alongside his, the climax fast approaching for both of you. Locking eyes, sweat gathering on his brow line. "God, look so beautiful. As pretty as I thought you'd be."

A whine left your lips, pathetic and needy. "Did you jerk off to me before?"

"So many times. So, So many times." He pants, hand rubbing faster and faster, blood felt hot. Head felt heavy, in his tipsy state everything was on the table. "Imagined bending ya over my desk, get rid of those silly papers I get ya to do. Treatin' ya like a real man should. Put a nice rock on that finger."

Your fingers move faster, pumping in and out, digging into your g-spot. Your thumb passing over the pink bud of your clit, hips jerking and thighs shaking as you grow closer and closer to the end.

"There you are. Get loud. Cum f'me...Cum for daddy." Your eyes roll back, mouth open and chest heaving as high-pitched moans and sighs forced themselves out. Choking slightly on your spit, your chin dips down. Watching as your fingers disappear into your pretty drooling pussy, thick globs of slick trailing down your thighs.

"M'close..." You sob slightly, hitting that one spot that finally made you sing. The heated coil in your belly snapping. A wave of slick gushes out, coating your palm as you hear a deep groan leave John. Thick salty ropes of cum covers his jeans and hand and wrist, leaving you both trembling and reeling.

"Oh...Oh my god-" you pant out, barely getting to your knees until you collapse into his arms. Held tightly by his thick meaty biceps. "Felt s'good..." Slurred words reach his ears and he smiles.

"Spend Christmas with me?"

"Yeah...Yeah I will."

[lilithknoxville]

Could u do a Johnny smut where her nipples are pierced and he gets turned on by it???

Barbells and Bitemarks (Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader) (18+!)

Summary: “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Johnny is a massive whore here, Oral (Fem Receiving), Mild Dacryphilia, Semi Public Sex, Daddy Kink

Word Count: 4,285

AN: MY FIRST EVER ASK EEEEEEEEE!!!!! I literally wanna kiss this anon on the mouth for giving me this idea /j. Thank you so much for requesting something from me, and my inbox is ABSOLUTELY still open for more requests. I may have forty documents open of smuts but I will absolutely drop them for a request. This is high key the most fun I’ve had writing a story in a while :3 again no beta reader we die like men. Also I’m posting this at 4:00 in the morning so MANNNNNNN I’m tired. Prolly gonna pass out after this LOL. Okay here we gooooooooo! ✨

You huffed out a sigh, resting your head back against the wall you were leaned up against. Jeff’s voice droned on and on, giving information and safety on a stunt that you weren’t thrilled about being a part of. So you had tried to tune Jeff out as much as possible, but his loud and booming voice wasn’t letting you zone out. You kicked a leg over your other one, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. You looked over, seeing Johnny leaned over on the opposite wall from you. You smiled slightly, and an easy smile graced his lips as well. He pushed himself off of the wall, coming over to where you were standing. He dipped his head down, his voice hushed in your ear.

“Well ain’t you the vision of bein’ enthused?” Johnny asked, his lips quirked up in a smile. You snorted out a laugh as you looked up at him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about being up on your shoulders, Knox. I’m fuckin’ terrified of heights, and you’re not exactly short.” You smiled at him, and he shook his head, laughing.

“I promise I ain’t gonna drop you, doll.” He gave a smile that had your stomach doing somersaults, and you growled uneasily.

“I’m holding you to that.” You wrinkled your nose, a smile on your lips, and he clapped a hand on your shoulder. Jeff’s booming voice caught your attention and you cast your gaze back towards where Jeff was standing.

“Hey lovebirds, you two wanna join our conversation?” Jeff called, and the amount of hoots and hollers from the rest of the cast had you pulling your beanie down to cover your face, “Anyways - Johnny, Bam, Ryan, and (Y/N), you guys are gonna be next up for shooting. We’re going to go ahead with Steve-O, Dave, and Ehren’s stunt.” Jeff looked down at his clipboard, nodding to cement what he had just said, “But stay on deck, I’m thinking this one’ll take about an hour. Go ahead and get changed into different clothes, and be on standby. Your guys’ stunt involves mud, and we’ve still got a whole day of shooting.” Jeff clapped his hands and you were all sent on your separate ways. You headed to the trailer they had set up specifically for you, Johnny on your heels like a lost puppy. Your feelings for Johnny were… confusing, to say the least. On one hand, he was your absolute best friend in the whole wide world; You were nothing but comfortable around him. You both laughed until you cried, leaned on the other for support, and you loved each other fiercely. On the other, you were beyond in love with him. Any laugh he gave at your jokes, any smile cast your way, and anytime he touched you (albeit all of them were innocent) lit you up from the inside out.

You entered the trailer, propping the door open with your foot as you waited for Johnny. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he stepped into your trailer.

“You gotta follow me everywhere I go like a lovesick puppy?” You teased, watching as Johnny flopped down on the small couch set up in the trailer.

“Hey, I’m makin’ sure no one fucks with you, doll. You know how these boys are.” Johnny shrugged, resting one of his arms on the back of the couch. You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe with your hands behind your back. You kicked one leg over the other, rolling your eyes hard at Johnny’s comment.

“And you act like I’m not scared to beat anyone’s ass.” You snorted out a laugh, pushing off of the wall and going to the small wardrobe that was set up for you. You looked through the clothes, humming. Each outfit was marked with a name of a stunt, and you got to the one for this stunt. It was a sheer, white tank top with jean shorts. You held it up, looking at the outfit with scrutinizing eyes.

“Really?” Johnny barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “I mean - Sex sells, but if we’re sticking our only female cast member in somethin’ like this…” He chuckled again, letting out a puff of air from his nose. There was something unreadable in his eyes, and as you stared at him, trying to figure it out, he looked away, avoiding your eyes, “I dunno what they’re thinkin’.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You tore your eyes away from him, rolling them hard. You heaved out a sigh, giving the outfit one last scrutinous glare, “But I don’t think I really have that much of a choice.” You hung the hanger on the back of a chair, your hands coming to your hoodie’s hem. You pulled your hoodie off over your head, but you failed to realize you had grabbed the bottom of your shirt as well. Immediately, you were standing in a sheer, lace bralette in front of Johnny.

Time seemed to freeze as his eyes raked over you - how the bralette pushed your boobs together, the black lace against your skin, and the two barbells pushed through each of your nipples. You yelped and covered your chest with your arm, your face flushing a bright red.

“Shit! I’m fucking sorry!” You cried, moving your arm from over your chest to try and get your shirt out of the hoodie. Your hands trembled as frantic apologies tumbled from your lips, when suddenly Johnny’s hands were covering yours.

You looked up to see him standing in front of you, his face the same shade of red as yours. His face was calm, however, and a smile ghosted over his lips.

“Doll, you ain’t gotta freak out.” His voice was quiet, a murmur, as he helped you pull the shirt out of the hoodie, “But when were you gonna tell me you’ve got piercings?” He asked, a wolfish grin on his lips. You smacked his arm with a hand, your other hand covering your chest with your shirt.

“You’re an ass!” You chuckled, your face still feeling warm, “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face, looking for any sign he was joking, but there was nothing more than a cool smirk on his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Your head was absolutely swimming, the thoughts swirling through your head nothing that would be considered safe for work. But Johnny’s voice brought you back down to Earth;

“Now, you gonna let Daddy see my babygirl’s piercin’s?” He purred, his hands tracing circles on your shoulders. You shuddered under his hands, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down, and captured your lips in a kiss. Immediately, all of the breath was stolen from your lungs, and your hands scrambled to his shoulders. The kiss started off as slow and soft at first, but it slowly progressed to bruising and passionate.

He growled against your lips, something primal flaring in his chest. This wasn't just some casual kiss; this was a decade of suppressed emotions and desires erupting to the surface for the both of you. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you against him firmly, as if he was afraid of you slipping away.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You opened your mouth, accepting his tongue to touch around. You were secretly very thankful that he didn’t try and jam his tongue so far down your throat that you gagged. His free hand moved up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you captive against him.

Finally, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, and your cheeks were flushed a brilliant red. You searched Johnny’s eyes for a moment, a small, breathless giggle leaving your lips. Johnny had the same breathlessness you did, his lips quirking up in a half smile.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, doll, I’d say you’ve been waitin’ for me to do that for a while.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his hand cradling your face. You looked up at him with humor filled eyes, giggling.

“Good thing you know better, hmm?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile. His smile darkened and before you knew it, he had you up in the air, his arms locked around your waist. You squealed and giggled, as Johnny walked over to the small couch that was in your trailer.

He tossed you on the couch, your back pressed dully into the cushions. He crawled in between your legs, his face ghosting over yours. His breath was stolen from his lungs as he looked down at the goddess laid before him, your cheeks flushed the prettiest salmon. You looked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust and want. It intoxicated him in the best way possible, and it made him want more.

More he got, as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him back down roughly. Your lips reconnected and Johnny grunted against your lips, his hands going to your hips to raise them up against him. In this new angle, you could feel the hard press of the growing bulge in Johnny’s jeans.

He pulled away from the bruising kiss, his breath fanning heavy over your face. A smile tugged at his lips, his head dipping down to your neck. Hot opened mouth kisses were pressed into your skin, the sharp edges of his teeth pressing gently into your neck. You writhed and whimpered under him, his hands tracing your sides with the softest of touches.

“This okay?” He murmured against your skin as his fingers danced at the hem of your bralette, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah, ‘m good.” You breathed out, helping him take off your bralette. He threw it into a random corner, his hands shaking as they ghosted over your breasts.

His eyes stayed stationary on the black barbells pushed through either of your nipples. Slowly, as if he was hesitant, his hands came to your breasts, kneading them. You let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. His nimble fingers danced over the barbells, and you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah? Sensitive, ain’tcha?” He breathed out, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and your breasts, “My pretty girl.” He breathed out, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts.

His head dipped lower, his lips attaching to one of your nipples. It was like an electric current was sent through your whole body, the warm feeling of his mouth on the cold barbell made you shoot up. Your back arched, as a shaky wail came from your mouth. Johnny pulled back immediately, his face flashing with concern.

“No, no, no!” You babbled, whining deep in your throat, “Pl-Please.” You begged, your breath coming out in pathetic sounding pants.

“Well, I gotta listen when you’re beggin’ so pretty for me.” Johnny chuckled, dipping his head back down. His mouth went back to your nipple, the warm feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple making you wail again.

His hand dipped to your jeans, fumbling with the button as he tried to undo it with one hand. A huff of breath left his nose and he pulled off of your breast, focusing his attention on your jeans.

“Fuckin’ - goddamnit.” He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. You gently covered his hands with yours, helping him undo the button on your jeans, and you started to push them off of your hips. He caught the hem of your panties in his blunt nails, practically ripping both of them off of your legs. He threw both pieces of clothing to a random corner of your trailer, pushing your legs open. You tried to close your legs, a flare of embarrassment running hot through your veins, but he was much stronger than you were.

He growled, his lips kissing down your stomach, along your hip bone, tasting the cream of your skin mixed with the salt of sweat. He kissed down along your thigh, stopping just before where you needed it the most. You watched as his cheek pressed into your thigh, as he watched how you dripped and keened.

“Look at you, little one,” Johnny purred, causing you to whimper, your fingers tightening in his hair, “You got this wet just from Daddy playin’ with them sexy piercin’s?” The southern twang in his voice drove you crazy, but the fact that he bit into the soft of your thigh caused you to keen again.

“Jesus, don’t fucking tease me.” You whined, your voice coming out breathless and needy. Johnny nipped at the junction where your thigh met your pelvis, and the feeling made you shudder underneath his hands.

“You ain’t got a single idea how bad I’ve wanted you like this.” His breath fanned hot over your clammy skin, his lips kissing lower and lower until he was right above your clit, “Hearin’ you say my name like it’s the only prayer you’ve known.” He groaned, his tongue darting out and kitten licking across your clit.

His lips attached to your pussy, his tongue exploring every single part of you. You whined, throwing your head back against the couch, as his movements were slow, agonizing in the best way possible. He switched between his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy and sucking on your clit. You let out a strangled moan as he offered a hard suck of your clit.

“Goddamn, babygirl. You taste just like honey.” He grunted against you, pulling back slightly, and wetting his middle and ring finger with his own saliva, “Could spend the rest of my life right here, face pressed into this fuckin’ pussy.” He murmured, lowering his head again. His lips attached to your clit, his middle finger slowly dipping into your pussy.

You came lighting up off of the couch, wailing out his name as he curled his finger, finding the spongy tissue that had you seeing stars. He chuckled against you, the vibration of his laugh making your heart flip in your chest.

His ministrations were eager, and before you knew it, he was adding the second finger into you. He curled his fingers hard, the pleasure thrumming through your veins hitting an all time high. Your hands came to his hair, your hips rolling against his face.

The coil inside your core started to wind tighter and tighter, as you shamelessly grinded against his face, trying to pull yourself closer to an orgasm. He moaned eagerly against you, clearly enjoying the entire situation himself. Tighter and tighter the coil inside you wound, Johnny’s little grunts and moans against you doing nothing to help the situation.

The coil snapped, your orgasm rattling through your bones - your moans breathless and high pitched - as Johnny drank up all of your slick. Your breaths were heavy and ragged, Johnny’s face still firmly planted between your thighs. The feeling started to border on overstimulating, so you tapped his head three times shakily. Johnny finally pulled his head back, his chin and lips wet.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me, doll.” He grunted against your hipbone, laughing shakily, “Usin’ my face like your own personal throne, I could get used to that.” He looked up at you with humor filled eyes, crawling back up towards your lips.

You kissed him breathlessly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned shamelessly into his mouth, your hands making quick work of ripping his shirt off of him and pushing his jeans down to his knees. He kicked off his shoes, awkwardly shoving his jeans off of his legs, the denim falling unceremoniously to the floor.

You adjusted on the couch, laying flat on your back horizontally, and Johnny slotted himself between your legs, the thick press of his cock against your weeping slit making you mewl. He fumbled around for a moment, trying to find his jeans.

“I’m on the-” You raised your arm, tapping your bicep, “-thing in arm. Good for three years.” You dropped your arm, your hand running down his chest. “You’re good. I’m clean.”

“You sure?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours, “Can’t promise I’m gonna last long feelin’ this pussy raw.” He admitted, laughing awkwardly.

“I’m sure. No babies.” You pulled his face down to yours, kissing him breathlessly, “Pump me full of cum, Daddy.” You purred.

“Jesus Ch-“ He let out a strangled grunt, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned hot against your face, his breath shaky, “You tryna give an old man a heart attack?” He asked, his voice shaking. He opened his eyes, silently asking if it was okay again. You nodded, and he slowly started to push into you.

The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out made you wail into his shoulder, your blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed in until he bottomed out. His breath was catching in his throat, his arm twitching as he gripped onto the back of the couch for dear life.

“Fuckin’ hell, babygirl.” He grunted out, letting out a trembling exhale of breath, “Pussy’s like a goddamned vice around me.” He spoke through gritted teeth, staying still to let you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

It was a silent couple of seconds before your muscles started to relax and he was able to start thrusting shallowly in and out of you. You whimpered and keened underneath him, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Harder…” You whispered, your voice begging helplessly, “Daddy, please.”

“Anything my babygirl wants.” Johnny whispered back to you, his hands moving to wrap around your neck, pulling himself impossibly closer to you. His hips slowly sped up, the pace rough but not brutal. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy in your ear.

“Shit, Johnny.” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, whimpering in his ear as he set a steady pace. His hipbones smacked against your ass, causing a dull pain that only accentuated the pleasure.

It was a few moments of this steady pace before Johnny suddenly pulled back from where he was buried in your neck. You looked up at him with dazed eyes, confusion etching into your features. He shuddered out a breath as he met your eyes, a shaky smile crossing his face.

His hands shoved your thighs back, pushing your knees almost to your chest. In this angle, you could feel every inch of his cock as he pounded into you. You threw your head back, wailing out a mix of his name and a guttural scream. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you threw your head back against the small couch.

“Yeah, that’s it, my sweet girl.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in bursts, “You take Daddy’s cock so fucking well. This goddamned pussy was made for this cock - Fuck!” He snarled, his hips speeding up. All you could do was hold on for dear life, your mind swimming with nothing but him and how fucking good this felt.

His hands came to your breasts, his fingers tweaking one of the barbells. Between his nimble fingers on your nipples sending waves of heat to your core, and him making a complete mess of your pussy, you felt yourself coming undone at the seams. The familiar coil in your core was winding tighter and tighter by the second, and the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes fell down your face. The pleasure was starting to border on the perfect blend of amazing and almost cruel. You met his eyes, your vision blurry from the tears, and you could see he had a wolfish grin on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s it. Cry over how fucking good this cock is.” He snarled, dipping his head down to your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses against your skin, “Could fucking live in this pussy, babygirl, Jesus Christ-!” His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you wailed out his name again, the coil suddenly snapping in your core. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body trembled, your pussy fluttering around him. Your body felt taut, as your orgasm rippled through your bones.

“Oh fuck, babygirl-“ He grunted out, his thrusts brutal and rapid, “Just like that… Daddy’s gonna fucking cum all in this pussy.” He growled in your ear, and all you could do was hold on for dear life.

A couple seconds later, he stilled, letting out a moan that would make a pornstar blush. His cock twitched and pulsed inside of you as thick, hot ropes of cum filled you. You writhed, still trying to come down from your high.

It was a silent couple of seconds as the two of you remembered how to breathe, and you were the first to make any form of a sound. You chuckled breathlessly, meeting Johnny’s eyes.

“Well, remind me to accidentally strip in front of you more often.” You panted out, bringing your arms up and pulling Johnny into a kiss. His hands cradled the back of your head, holding your lips to his. He broke the kiss, laughing softly against your lips.

“Ain’t gotta be accidental no more, doll.” He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, “You got me hooked around your lil’ finger.” He smiled down at you, before the sound of someone banging on the door made you both jump. You swore under your breath, your heart racing.

“Ye-Yeah?” You called, putting a finger to Johnny’s lip to shush him.

“Hey, are you two done fucking already? Your guys’ stunt is about to start.” Ehren’s voice, which had the edge of awkwardness to it, rang out through the door and it took everything in you to not want to melt into the floor from embarrassment.

“Why, you wanna join?” Johnny called and you smacked his arm, his loud cackle of a laugh making you roll your eyes.

“Gross! Fuck no!” Ehren’s voice was high pitched, and you could almost see him cringing, “Fucking hell, Knox. Just get dressed and get your guys’ asses out here. Jeff’s pissed.” Ehren walked away from the door, and you could hear his soft muttering as he walked away. You snorted out a laugh, cringing as Johnny pulled out of you. He grabbed a couple of tissues from a table nearby, getting you as cleaned up as possible.

“Well, I’m gonna have my own cum running down my neck.” He joked, and you groaned.

“Ew! Johnny!” You whined, and he barked out a laugh.

“What? I’m right!” He had a twinkle in his eye, helping you get up from the couch. Your hair was a mess, and your neck was covered with all sorts of love bites, “I ain’t the one who decided you were gonna wear shorts that barely cover your ass while you’re up on my damn shoulders!” He helped you get dressed, putting on his own clothes quickly afterwards.

“So…” You trailed off, letting him run a brush through your hair. You smiled at the odd intimacy of the action, and he hummed, a question of ‘Go on?’, “When’s round two?” You asked, the question hanging thickly in the air.

“Let’s win this stupid chicken fight ‘tween Bam and Ryan, and maybe then we’ll talk.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Don’t worry, babygirl. I’ll have you walkin’ funny sooner rather than later.” He growled in your ear, sending a rush through you. He patted your butt, shaking his head, “But come on. Before the Almighty Tremaine slits our damn throats for fuckin’ up his perfect lil’ schedule.”

You exited your trailer, and if it wasn’t for the love bites on your neck and the flush that covered your cheeks, you were sure no one would have pegged you for having just had sex with Johnny. You, of course, would have been wrong.

“How big’s his cock, (Y/N)?” Bam all but screamed at you when you and Johnny made it to the set, and you bristled for a moment, “Come on, everyone heard you screamin’ his name!”

“Jealous, are we?” Johnny asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Too bad she ain’t gonna ever scream your name, Bambi.”

You chuckled, trying to pull your beanie down to hide your face in embarrassment. But as you looked up at Johnny, who was harassing Bam about being jealous still, that weird love you had for Johnny settled in your stomach again. But those were feelings for another day. You had more pressing matters, namely throwing Bam and Ryan off of a wooden beam so you could get round two.

You had a pretty good feeling you’d be getting what you wanted, regardless of what Johnny had said.

[veritas-scribblings]

map - @into-the-jeggyverse - words: 822

James feels the bite of winter in the very depths of his soul. It is bitter and unrelenting and has blanketed Hogwarts in a thick, white frost. He sinks into it up to his shins as he treks across the grounds, towards the Forbidden Forest. Through layers upon layers upon layers of snow storms laid down by a world that may very well be raging. Or grieving.

A beautiful, poetic irony, James thinks. If he has his definition of poetic irony correct. He probably doesn’t.

But there isn’t anyone around to correct him, so…

James! Wait!

The world is white through the barrage of snow. He cannot see. But he doesn’t need to. He lived on, learnt on, played on these grounds as a youth. He would know his way around blind in the dark.

And he is blind now. And everything is numb. His fingers. His toes. His nose. His face, his skin, his bodyhisheadhishearthissoul.

James would cast a warming spell, but he doesn’t trust the volatility of his magic. He hasn’t for months.

Some years ago (James can no longer be sure how many) he’d brought Regulus out here into the Forbidden Forest after the first snow, back in his sixth year when James was still in love with winter and Christmas and snow and had wanted to share the joy of it all with Regulus. He’d wanted to build snowmen with Regulus. Go ice-skating with Regulus. Stand under the dusting snow with Regulus. And then drink hot cocoa by the fireplace to defrost with Regulus.

Regulus, of course, had grumbled the whole time, because he’s fussy and prickly like a cat and hates snow.

Hates being wet.

Hates being cold.

Hates Christmas, because he’s just insane like that.

He’d been all wrapped up in a scarf and beanie at the time like some sort of soggy marshmallow. In the snow and the cold, his nose and cheeks had gone all pink, and he’d scowled the whole time, muttered something about James needing to see a mind healer or be institutionalised.

James! Stop!

It’s long past the first snow of winter now. James missed it almost a month ago in his hibernation, buried under the weight of his own grief and rage and insanity. He’s missed Christmas. He’s missed autumn and Halloween. He’s missed so many things. The birth of Lily’s son. Dorcas’s funeral. Marlene’s funeral. Little Neville’s first birthday. And Frank and Alice…

It was upon emerging from it all that James had been horrified to find that time hadn’t waited for him. To finally recall how, in the depth of everything, he’d sometimes wished that the war had never ended. Because until it did, he’d barely had a moment to stop or breathe, let alone to feel. And when he finally did stop and breathe and feel…

When reality had pulled him under…

James has so many regrets.

James is near the Forest Grove, wading—damned near swimming—through the snow when a force bodily takes him down from behind. He goes easily. Maybe because the fight had been gouged out of him months ago. Maybe because he’s numb and weak from stumbling about in a snow storm for Merlin only knows how long.

“James! Stop! This is not what I meant when I told you to get out for a change!” The voice, conflictingly both rough and polished, can only belong to Sirius. “Are you this desperate to die that you’re willing to go from frostbite and hypothermia?”  

But James does not wish to die. Not when he’s finally past it. Past the tears, the gut-wrenching from-the-bottom-of-his-soul screams. He’s past feeling like he’s been torn asunder from the inside. He’s ready to live again. 

It’s only then that Sirius looks down and sees what James has clenched in his shaking fist. Many years ago, when they were young, still revelling in their own mischief and congratulating each other on their genius, they’d had the foresight to cast waterproofing and anti-tearing charms on the map. But even so, the years-old parchment is sodden from the journey and crumpled from desperation. From repeated folding and unfolding and smoothing and turning.

Sirius tears it from James’s grip. “You’re going to trust something we made when we were fifteen?” he screams. “There’s nothing there!”

But there is. James is certain of it. He saw it. There. On the page. As true and real as had been the immutable grief he’d been drowning in only days ago.

He’d seen the name flickering there on the parchment, vibrant and alive. And he would know. He’d spent hours staring at it all those years ago at Hogwarts. Watching the name drift around the Slytherin dormitories. Float through the hallways. Tuck itself into a corner of the library like the studious little nerd it was at heart. 

“James!” Sirius practically shoves the parchment in his face. “James! There’s nothing there!”

[esimsterlookbook]

Please let me know if any links aren't working and I'll do my best to update them!

Base Sim:

Twisted Cat LashesRed Ear Cat's Scar / Peachyfaerie's Lily Contour Breezytrait acne / Magic Hand Eyebrows N40 / Nesurii skin details / Ok-ruee skin details / Nell's Bruised Knees / Llumisims Lily Non-default skin / Miiko Rhea Skin Details / Praline Sims Clevage Pack 01 / Sammi_xox Nose and Lip Masks / Kijiko's remove EA eyelashes / Praline Sims Odd Eye. / Praline Sims Jetlag N20 Eyebag

Everyday:

Nightcrawler Buttercup Hair / Plaza Sims Untamed Set Top / AxA Chloe Jeans Graphics / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots / Giulietta Sims Moon Chain Earrings / Darte_77 03 Bracelet / Blue Craving Piercing Mouth 4 / Praline Sims Immunity Septum / Simpliciaty's Lilith Rings Both / Gorilla x3 Heart Ring Chain Choker / Breezytrait Florence makeup / Lady Simmer's Drink of my sisters liner / Lady Simmer's midnight eye shadow / Lady Simmer's oh he's sorry lipstick / Giulietta Sims Long Edge Gothic Nails

Formal:

S-Club Ada Hair / Reina May Gothic Dress / Ellone Helene Boots / Caio Dainty Necklace / Enrique24 Jane Earrings / Simpliciaty Elise Rings both / Blue Craving Piercing Mouth 4 /Praline Sims Immunity Septum / Praline Sims Lip N238 Underworld / Evil Quinzel Heartwood Eyeshadow / Praline Sims Eyeliner N82 / Northern Siberia Winds Blush N5+Highlighter

Sleep:

Nightcrawler Petal Hair / Gorilla x3 Casual T-Shirt /Rimings Lazy Sunday Short Pants

Party:

Hezeh Hair No16 / PLB Sims Puppet Top / Plaza Sims' untamed skirt 2 / Shoetopia Obscurus ankle boots / Simpliciaty Aubrey rings - both / Blue Craving Piercing Mouth 4 / Praline Sims Earrings Agony v7 / Praline Sims Immunity Septum / PLB Sims Untouchable Necklace / AxA Yoshi Tights / Breezytrait Florence makeup / PralineSims Eyeshadow 91 Macchiato / Praline Sims Lipstick N237 Icon

Swim:

Nightcrawler Petal Hair / Senate Tara Bikini Top / Senate Tara Bikini Bottom / ArethaBee Jayleen Sunglasses / Giulietta Sims Mutliple Bangles / Simpliciaty Dolly Rings / S-Club TS4 Bracelet 202013 / Blue Craving Piercing Mouth 4 / Suzue Piercing N58 / Praline Sims Immunity Septum / Trillyke Candyfloss Belly Chains / ArethaBee Milena Necklace / R Raven Garter

Hot Weather:

Nightcrawler Buttercup Hair / Plaza Sims Untamed Set Corset / Busara-tr Leather Metallic Skirt / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots / ArethaBee Jayleen Sunglasses / Bobur Bracelet 05 R / Christopher067 Tori Necklace / Simpliciaty Dolly Rings / Blue Craving Piercing Mouth 4 / Ellone 2024 Freya Garter / Lady Simmer Glossy Babe Eyeshadow / Praline Sims Blush N78 Mocha / Praline Sims Lip N232 Paradise / Praline Sims Eyeliner 125 Cruel

Cold Weather:

Nightcrawler Buttercup Hair / Rimings Casual Set Cross Ring Beanie / PLB Sims Untouchable T-Shirt / Euno y2k Wide Jeans / Jius Leather Platform Oxford 01 / Rimings butterfly choker / Murphy T True Ring Set / Giulietta Sims Moon Chain Earrings / Blue Craving Mouth Piercing 4 / Praline Sims Immunity Septum Piercing / Northern Siberia Winds Eyeliner N5 / Northern Siberia Winds Lip Liner N1 / Lady Simmer Moonlit eyeshadow / Northern Siberia Winds Lips N39

[yawujin]

Heyyy I havent seen you write any danganronpa stuff recently so if you fell out of interest its alr I was just wondering if you could please write danganronpa v3 boys x reader at the beach HEAVY on korekiyo haven't seen much fan stuff for him and it saddens me.

anyway pls&thx have a good day :)

hey anonnn, you're right i haven't written for dangan in a bit...thing is; i have a hard time writing for things i'm not currently hyperfixating on (bad trait to have i know) there are a ton of requests for dangan hcs/x reader in my inbox rn so i'll try to get more of those done ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) hope you enjoy this in the meantime!!

request | v3 boys x reader 🏖 beach edition

type | headcanon format , reader insert , light hearted , you pronouns used

shuichi saihara ♡

easily gets sunburned so he prefers to stay under a beach umbrella most of the time

asks you for help with applying sunscreen all over his exposed skin

brought water bottles for everyone (my thoughtful kinggg <3)

lowkey would want to play volleyball w everyone else but think he'd be too awkward whilst playing

would most likely invite you to sit under an umbrella with him near the shore and listen to the sound of the waves with you

rantaro amami ♡

walks along the pier with you

buys you whatever you want at the concession stands there

"this beach is beautiful, you should see the ones i've traveled really far to see, too. they're amazing!" he exclaims

rantaro shows you a plethora of pictures he's taken of beaches all around the globe

would most likely collect a little bit of the sand from the beach just to keep a piece of it with him for memory's sake.

k1b0/kiibo ♡

he is awaaaaay from the water

he stands up on the rocks , looking out to the ocean (he would like to admire it without getting wet)

he's 100% a nerd so he gives you some fun facts about sharks , fish , etc

when you come back from swimming, he tells you how cool you looked

he totally wishes he could go and swim w you :(

korekiyo shinguji ♡

he enjoys the atmosphere , and your company ofc

you two walk on the pier talking about what to get for lunch

ngl it feels like a date when you are sitting across from kiyo, eating your food

"it's beautiful, isn't it?" he says, after a moment of quiet

"yeah! the beach is pretty nice." you reply

"i meant you, dear." he tells you

wink

kaito momota ♡

he's the one that set up the volleyball net

trying to encourage his sidekick to play volleyball with him

after getting rejected 5 times within a minute, he asks you

"i won't go easy on ya!"

kaito got a little too cocky for someone who kept on getting foul balls

gonta gokuhara ♡

quietly observing the hermit crabs on the beach

he marvels at the slugs crawling up the rocks

he's lowkey in bug heaven rn

you tell kokichi to stfu when he tells gonta that his hair looks similar to seaweed

"does gonta's hair really resemble seaweed?" he frowns

you comb your fingers through his hair and reassure him that his hair looks just fine :)

ryoma hoshi ♡

spends most of his time away from the crowd or in a shop on the pier

"beaches really aren't my type of scene"

you walk about a mile or two with him on the endless sands of the beach

you hadn't expected him to break the long silence until he said:

"glad you're here to keep me company."

he's pulling his beanie down to shade his eyes from the sun (and to hide his cute embarrassment)

kokichi ouma ♡

"let's both run into the water in three...two...one!"

except he stayed behind and let you do it all alone, much to your embarrassment (and annoyance)

he makes it up to you by buying you an ice cream

"awww don't be so mad! after we're done we can go swim together! promise!"

surprisingly, he keeps his promise and you two have a good time

you splash each other with ocean water playfully and engage in a small game of water tag

⋆ ˚｡⋆ my ao3

[marlynnofmany]

Drying Out

The wind on this alien planet was like I’d expected: not quite strong enough to put my balance at risk, but enough to make me glad I’d braided my hair back extra tight. Even with that precaution, little hair tendrils were whipping the sides of my face as I walked, and I didn’t have a hand free to brush them away. I was, as usual, carrying a box.

Mur could have carried it, but it would have been much harder for him, since he needed his tentacles to walk. Lucky bipedal me, with my free hands. I tried to focus on that as I squinted into the wind, scanning the nearly-deserted spaceport for our clients. I really should have brought goggles. Or at least a hat that wouldn’t get blown off.

A beanie would be perfect right now, I thought. Or even a scarf. I could be nice and fashionable with my swim goggles and a tie-dye bandanna. Why did I grab chapstick but nothing for my eyes?

I knew it was because Wio had only mentioned the drying properties of the local air when I’d asked. She was a Strongarm like Mur, and they admittedly had different priorities. No hair, for one.

“There they are,” Mur said over the wind. Not a thing got in his eyes.

I followed the direction of his blue-black tentacle, and spotted the little alcove that looked like an old fashioned bus stop. Three small whitish shapes huddled there that I’d thought were trash bags. Whoops. A bit of judicious squinting showed that they were another pair of tentacle folk and their bag of belongings, avoiding the worst of the wind.

Not a bad idea.

They unfurled as we got close enough for them to see the package and correctly deduce that we were here to deliver whatever they’d ordered. Miscellaneous stuff from an offworld store without its own delivery crew, I think. Not my business.

Mur greeted them warmly, taking point in the conversation while I stood there like the hired muscle with the box. The clients were very glad to see us, mostly because that meant less waiting in all this wind. The bus shelter didn’t do much to hold it back.

“Thank you for being prompt!” said the bigger of the two Strongarms as she signed the payment tablet. Her coloring was off-white with patches of yellow, which reminded me of a popcorn-flavored jellybean. The other popcorn squid was a little smaller, but had the same coloration. Probably related, but what did I know?

“Our pleasure,” Mur said as he took the tablet back and they pulled out a small hover platform to carry the package. “The less time spent in this desiccating wind, the better.”

They agreed heartily. I placed the box on the platform and helped the small client strap it in place while the big one explained that they had one more delivery to wait for.

“Unfortunately, that ship has been delayed,” she said. “Which would have been good to know before we got out here, but that’s the twist of the current for you.”

The smaller one piped up in a voice that sounded young. “I’ll say. I ran out of moisturizer with one arm to go — I would have dug up more from storage if I’d known we were going to be out here all day.”

The big one was visibly worried, already tugging at the small one’s tentacles. “Where aren’t you covered? How bad is it? Let me see!”

Mur made sympathetic noises while I mentally went over what I knew of Strongarm physiology. The previous courier ship I’d worked on had kept the air at a higher moisture level than the current one, largely for their benefit. Mur had told me about the lotion they all wore in dry air. I’d honestly forgotten about it.

And it appeared to be a big deal. The one yellow-white tentacle that the small Strongarm had been holding curled close looked dry and stiff even from where I was standing. She winced as she uncurled it. Her mother (yeah, I’m assuming) rushed to dig through the bag for a bottle of water, which she rubbed into place with visible worry.

The young one watched her fuss over it. “I’ll be fine; it’s just a little dry.”

“It’s a lot dry! Why didn’t you say something? And I didn’t bring any moisturizer either, because this was supposed to be a short trip. Oh, and this port doesn’t have a shop!”

Mur winced. “Yeah, this place is mostly Heatseekers and Mesmers, isn’t it? They probably wouldn’t even stock the good stuff.”

“Or any stuff,” the older client agreed. Another gust of wind spun in from a new direction, as if it was determined to make things worse. I licked dry lips while the client fretted.

I had an idea.

“Hey, I don’t know if this works, but do you want my chapstick?” I offered, pulling the tube from my pocket and removing the cap. I swiped some on the back of my hand to demonstrate. “It’s made to keep human lips from drying out, but it might work for you. Assuming you’re not allergic. It has like three ingredients, mostly wax.”

The big Strongarm was already reaching for it, spilling gratitude. She inspected it quickly, picking up the cap with another tentacle while she read the ingredients. “Beeswax, coconut oil… What is coconut? And almond?”

“Plants from my planet,” I said. “Seeds, kind of? Though the coconut is really big and kind of like a fruit with a shell. I don’t know what it really counts as. At any rate, it’s not toxic for me, though that doesn’t mean much.”

She turned it further. “There’s a species-safe diagram here, though it’s very small. I think that’s a dot in the Strongarm corner. Do you remember which is where?” She looked up at Mur.

“Lemme see.” He studied it for a moment while the wind gusted around us and the smaller Strongarm curled her tentacle under her. “Yes, that’s the right corner! Good news.”

“Excellent! Thank you!” The client snatched the tube and instructed the young one to hold out the vulnerable tentacle.

It took a while to cover the whole thing in chapstick, but the elder was determined, and the youngster was patient. Also more than a little embarrassed if I was reading the body language right, but I couldn’t blame her for that.

“Done!” the elder announced. “Did I miss anything? Are there any other spots that feel dry?”

“No, it’s fine.” The youngster pulled her tentacle back. “Feels weird.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with sympathy. “The wax is more noticeable than a good moisturizing lotion would be. But I hope it helps!”

The elder put the cap back on and moved to return it to me, but I told her she could keep it. They needed it more than I did. Plus it had tentacle-alien cooties all over it now, which I’d feel weird about using on my own mouth, but I didn’t say that.

“Honestly, it’s my least favorite flavor,” I said instead. “I got that one in a multipack. I’ll just get a better one later.”

She thanked me again and badgered the younger one into holding the tube, with instructions to reapply it the moment her skin started feeling dry again. The youngster insisted she was fine. The adult had clearly heard that before.

“Well,” Mur said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you! May the wind torment you as little as possible.”

“We appreciate that,” the client said. “Do all humans carry these? I’ve seen human-run shops before, and never thought to look for moisturizing agent there.”

“Most of us probably don’t have chapstick on hand all the time, but it’s a good thing to have available. And humans do use skin moisturizer too! It’s probably not the same grade as the kind you’re used to, but if you’re in a tight spot in the future with a human-run store nearby, you can probably find something there.”

“That is very good to know,” she said. “Thank you again!”

We said our goodbyes and headed back out into the brunt of the wind. I could swear it was trying to unbraid my hair one strand at a time.

“Morbid curiosity,” Mur announced as we walked, “But what flavor do you prefer for lining your mouth with? Knowing humans, it’s probably gross.”

I had to smile. “I like the minty ones, which isn’t that weird. Or cherry. Though there was a cinnamon one I found once that I’d like to get again. It looked more like lipstick, which isn’t really what I’m going for, but it smelled good.”

“Hm,” Mur said. “And what was this one? Plant flavor?”

“It was mostly just beeswax. Not that great.”

“What kind of wax is ‘beez wax’?”

“Oh!” I lit up. “I told you about honey, right? The sweet stuff made by bugs?”

“Yeeeees,” he said with suspicion. “Your food additive that’s full of insect spit. Don’t tell me this is the same concept.”

“It’s what they make their hives with!” I told him. “I don’t think there’s as much spit involved. I looked it up once, and the wax seeps out of these pores on their sides, making little scales, then if enough of them flap their wings to raise the temperature to soften it, they can shape it into the little cells to lay eggs and store honey in. But not at the same time. And yeah, they probably do that with their mouths, so there might be some spit involved.”

Mur’s squid face was contorted into an expression of spectacular disgust. “And you put that on your mouth,” he said.

“Yup!” I brushed hair back from my face. “Probably good the client only asked about the other ingredients.”

Mur walked faster. “I hope they don’t find out until we are far out of range.”

“It’s not that gross!”

“You said that about honey too.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[seababehh]

at the end of the day. || chris sturniolo x f!best friend!reader

Hi ya’ll!! I’m back. I finally got time to write - and I definitely am writing about chris this time. Because damn; this man could really suffocate me and I’d say thank you.

This is based off the song End of The Day by One Direction because let’s be honest, that song is a banger and is currently stuck in my brain.

-

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x F!Best Friend Reader

Requested: Yes (send me more i love these ideas.)

Warnings: Angst, fluff all the good stuff. Chris being a jealous asshat, doesn’t know how to communicate. A lot of swearing and arguing! Crying! I made this heartachey because I felt like it. Sorry guys. but don’t worry, there’s some good stuff at the end, let me know if you want me to make it a part 2 with some smut. Best Friendsss to lovers Core!

——

I had awoken with sleep crusted eyes, my mouth dry and the light outside had proven it to be late afternoon. My eyelids themselves were puffy from lack of sleep, and I groaned as I dragged a hand over my face. It was the day I was supposed to hang out with my best friends -Matt, Nick and Chris. They had just gotten back from tour, and we decided today was the day we celebrated Chris for winning the tour and the boys other accomplishments.

I rubbed my eyes, rolling over the side of my bed and grabbing my phone. I replied to a few messages - letting them go through and making my way to the bathroom. Something felt different about today, my body couldn’t decide if it was a good different or bad different. I shook my head - wondering into the shower. I turned the tap on, letting the hot water run and steam up the room.

While under the hot stream of water, I had let my thoughts run as fast as the droplets against my skin. As usual, every individual thought that entered my brain had always landed back to Chris. My sweet boy, he was honestly my world, my best friend, my everything. That’s what they were supposed to be when you were in love with someone right?

Wrong, because it was only me who had this thoughts. This horrible feeling crept up from my chest, knowing I’m only hurting myself by being hopelessly in love with someone who would never love me back.The feeling pained, like an extreme pressure was put on my chest and I was about to combust. I sighed, holding my hands up against my chest and leaned against the wall as my hair began to stick to my body.

—

“(Y/n)!” I heard the familiar voice scream as I walked up the driveway to the Sturniolo Household. Chris had whipped open the door, immediately running over to me with his arms wide and open. I looked at his fluffy hair bouncing under his beanie, the blue eyes that just made me want to scream and that wide grin that was so infectious it started to make mine widen. That familiar ugly feeling of heartbreak had crawled back into my chest, but I squashed it down as I opened up my arms for a welcoming hug.

Chris had picked up up by the waist, spinning me around as I held onto his shoulders for dear life. I shoved my have in between his neck and shoulders and somehow my arm as my legs began to swim out behind me. “Chris!” I mumbled into the skin, the vibration of my voice obviously sending a tickling sensation down his neck, causing him to loose balance. My eyes widened as we toppled to the grass beside us, a loud laugh leaving both our mouths as we looked at each other. We landed on our backs, breathless but happy. “I missed you.” He said, looking at me with those blue eyes, a pinkie reaching to touch mine as we laid on the grass. This is always what it was, the sweet comments, the flirty looks, the soft touches. Sometimes I had a hope that maybe something was reciprocated.

We danced on that line many times - everyone always assuming that we were just supposed to be together. I had a glimmer of hope appear, looking at his gorgeous face. His smile never left as he huffed against the floor. That horrible feeling came back, and before I could hurt myself anymore I looked up at the sky before jumping up and offering him my hand. “C’mon pretty boy, don’t get all sappy on me now.”

Deny, avoid, leave it. He’s not yours. Those are the words that repeated through my head

He smiled at me with a slight tinge on his cheeks, placing his hand in mind and shoving me slightly, racing to the door.

-

We were all in the study slash office room of the house where we were all hanging out. Matt had sat on the chairs with Nick, shouting and screaming at the game they were playing while Chris and I were watching tiktok’s off my phone on the couch. I had sat next to him, leaning into his side with my legs folded over his and his arm behind me on the couch.

I started laughing at one of the videos that had come up on my for you page, looking up to see if Chris had watched it. He smiled down at me, and it almost made me winded. I hadn’t realized we were so close, and I tried to get my breathing back to normal. He had played with the ends of my hair as we watched, my face burning from the closeness.

I scrolled, an edit of Chris had come up, and without thinking I automatically liked it. “Did you just like the edit of me?” He whispered in my ear, making me shriek in surprise. I almost threw my phone, “I have no idea what you are talking about!” I laughed, trying to block his view from the phone. He struggled over me and quickly took my phone from my grasp. I screamed, climbing back over him to reach for my phone. I had eventually laid myself flat on my stomach across Chris’s lap, and I felt the blush worsen. His hand rested casually on my lower back; dangerously close to my ass. He casually dipped his hand onto the skin under my hoodie and started tracing circles with his fingers. I put my face in my hands and groaned, knowing now that he was comfortable - he was not going to let me move.

-

Eventually - after a few hours of lounging around the living room with the triplets, Nick had the idea that we should go out and actually celebrate. There was an influencer party that we had all been invited too - the only problem being I was in a Fresh Love hoodie and some leggings. “Nick, I don’t know about you but i’m not going like this.” I laughed. I was squeezed between Matt and Chris; my legs over Chris’s and a pillow lodged between Matt and I. Matt smiled over at me, “But dressing like a hobo is the new in, don’t you know?” I rolled my eyes, slapping his arm as we all laughed.

“Why don’t you guys get ready, i’ll go home quick and change and then you guys can fetch me since you coming past me anyway?” I stood up from the couch, Chris quickly following with a friendly pinch on the bottom of my thigh as he stood up.

I blushed at the contact. I waved by to his two clones and Chris followed me out the door. I climbed into the drivers seat of my car, leaving the door open as he decided to invade my space. He stood against the door, crouching down to talk to me properly. “What are you planning on wearing tonight ma?” He smiled, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He reached up and pushed my hair out my face and behind my ear, causing my skin to flush. “You’ll see later - now shoo! I need to go.” I pushed him away and he laughed, leaning down and kissing my cheek before closing my door for me.

I almost wanted to break out and scream - it’s me! I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were 16! Can you fucking see me dying right now! As I watched him stand and look at my car driving away.

-

I stood in front of the mirror at the corner of the bedroom, adjusting my outfit as it clings to my body. I had black leather pants on, and a dark burgundy lace halter neck as a top. I had my white platform converse tied with cute bows on my feet and my hair was cascading down my back.

I felt cute, and I also knew I felt good enough to get drunk tonight. My thoughts, once again, had reverted back to Chris. I wondered what was he wearing tonight, no doubt he’d look as good as always. I applied the last of my lipgloss on, before hearing hooting outside. I heard the holler of Nicks voice before I even got to my door. I laughed, locking with my keys and heading over to the backseat of the minivan.

“Hey guys,” I said with a smile, climbing in. Nick immediately hugged my from my side, making me laugh and complain about my hair. Matt had smiled at me from the rear view mirror and Chris had turned almost 180 degrees in his seat to make some noise. I smiled, ignoring the guilty feeling of loving the boy and letting it stay at the house as we drove away.

—

By 11, the party was probably at its peak. There were people everywhere, and for it being such a fancy apartment, the feeling was undeniable. Nick and I had chased a few shots, while Matt had stalked off and started talking to a few others of our friends. Nick and I had made our way to the kitchen, his hands stuffed in a bag of AirPopped popcorn while I had sat on the kitchen counter. My palms gripped the edge, while my legs swung out under me, my gaze zoned in on Chris. He had a pretty girl next to him - the body language far too intimate for it to be merely platonic. He leaned against the wall, but the little woman’s body had turned to face him completely.

Once again, that ugly feeling was back as I watched them - not ashamed at the stare. No, I wasn’t ashamed, because I’m almost 99% sure he knew what he was doing. He knew we played that game, he knew it. His blue gaze flickered to mine- and instead of looking away he gave me a smug smirk. I felt that little piece of heart in my chest crack. I forced myself to look away.

“Girl, I thought you were getting Mr World Wide Drunk with me tonight - not Lana Del Ray drunk.” Nick complained from my side as he saw the sour look on my face. I pointed at him with the almost empty red cup in my hand. “You-.” I chugged the rest of my drink, slamming it down on the marble kitchen counter next to me. “- are so fucking right! I need a new drink and then let’s go dance.” I hopped down from the counter, reaching over and creating a new concoction to force down my throat. Nick cheered, “Make me one too!”

After about 2 more drinks, Nick and I had made it to the dance floor. The song End of The Day by One Direction had come on- and I started screaming the lyrics. Sure, they were slurred - however I had seen Chris in my field of view on the dance floor; the girl with a tiny hot pink dress following him like a lost puppy. Nick had grabbed my hand - screaming the lyrics with me.

“All I know at the end of the day, is you love who you love, there ain’t no other way!”

As I was shouting the lyrics with the rest of the crowd, I locked in on Chris. It almost felt like time had stopped; and the background was blurring with all the people around me. The look on his face was indifferent. This was one thing that I loved and hated about the man, he was everywhere. That I could always rely on, but at the same time I couldn’t escape him. He was watching me, and suddenly the world started spinning a little too much. When I realized it was another man who had pulled me into his arms to dance, I smiled. He greeted me politely, and even had polite hand movements as he pulled me in to dance. He was actually kind of cute. I turned my head back and looked at Chris, whose face changed from a look of awe, to visible irritation with his arm now wrapped around the random girls shoulders. I rolled my eyes, now moving to place my hands on the new man’s shoulders, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t Chris.

The feeling in my chest was now simmering, an angry feeling this time. How can he have the fucking audacity to be irritated when he was doing the same fucking thing? I needed to stop being pushed over by his little antics. I looked up at the man dancing, and turned around as his hands followed my hips and their movements. I blamed it on the alcohol that made me feel so many things at once. Maybe I should’ve taken it as a distraction. That horrible feeling coming back, once again. I didn’t know weather to be angry, or finally happy that I’m getting attention from someone that wasn’t the brunette boy I was in love with.

He had smirked down at me, but I closed my eyes and leant my head against his shoulder as we continued to the rhythm. I felt his breath on the side of my neck, but before I could feel his lips, there was an audible crunch and suddenly, I was being ripped away from the moment. My eyes snapped open, watching Chris stand there with a bloody hand and the man I was dancing with had an even worse nose, and he was on the floor. The crowd around me gasped, watching with interest at the commotion.

I was beyond furious. My eyes snapped to Chris’ gaze, who was now heaving and slowly turned to me. If looked could kill - he would simply have died 12 times. He tried to come up to me, but I placed my hand up and walked through the crowd. He called my name multiple times, but with each cry from his mouth just made me want to move my legs a little faster.

I finally made it outside to the parking lot - Chris still hot on my heels. He reached for my elbow, but I whipped around. Angry and confusion flashing through me, as hard and rough as waves against a rocks during a storm. It consumed me at this point; everything coming out and finally coming to the surface. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I screamed at him, the fury that raged through me had my shaking as I pushed a finger against his chest.

His eyes widened - he had never seen me like this before; but I had finally had enough. “What do you think you’re doing Christopher?” I poked again, “What is this? You fucking go off with someone but as soon as I do it, it’s a fucking problem?” I shouted again. His blue eyes just stared at me. Wow, for once Chris Sturniolo didn’t have anything to say. “That was pathetic! Who are you to have the fucking audacity to punch someone I was dancing with, again? Because let’s admit it; it’s not the fucking first time!” I raised my hands in frustration and the slapped against my thighs as I dropped them.

The warmth from my was rising, my skin flushing from the emotions running from me. Tears started to prickle in my eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of it Chris.” I finally whispered, as my anger grew into sadness. I was so disappointed with myself, knowing I should be pissed. “(Y/N)- please. He was about to kiss your neck-.” He tried to explain himself, but I felt that rage again.

“And so Chris? What about it? I have been fucking in love with you for four years! Four Years Chris, we’ve been dancing this fucking line for so long, and I just have to keep quiet and deal with it when you get with other girls and dealing with your jealousy but fuck sakes - when are you going to come to your fucking senses and realize that it’s not just about you!” I rambled; pushing his shoulder.

“I can only take so much, you either want me or you don’t!”He looked at me, his blue eyes softened as he saw the fat tears fall down my cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you, and all the looks, and teasing and flirting and all this time I can’t do anything about it because you’re my best friend-.” I sobbed, but was quickly cut off with him placing his hands on my cheeks. “God, you’re stupid. I’m stupid, we’re both stupid.” He said, looking at me.

I got visibly upset, “Excuse me?” I said, sniffing. He placed one hand over my mouth. “Before you get all ridiculous, you’re stupid because it took you this long to realize I’m in love with you too. And i’m stupid because it took me a screaming match to tell you that i’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” He whispered, placing his forehead on mine.

My hands wrapped around his hoodie covered wrists. I pulled his hands away from my face, “You fucking asshole!” I screamed, but a playful smile had begun to take over my face, pushing him away further and further as a giggle started to leave my mouth.

“What? What now?” He smiled, pulling his arms to his body to protect himself from my soft hits and pushes. “You ruined that guys fucking nose for nothing! As well as my makeup might I add!” I crossed my arms.

Chris had rolled his eyes, before dodging one more hit and grabbing my face once again. Except, this time he had placed his lips on mine. He started to move his lips against mine; and a whole relief just flowed after me. I felt his tongue move against my lip, receiving entrance into my mouth. I let out a little whimper as he walked my back, and I was now pressed against the pillar of the car park.

“He fucking deserved it.” He mumbled against my lips, feeling his body pressed against mine; and his hands now rested on my hips. I ran my fingers into his hair, pulling slightly. Chris let out a pathetic whine, causing him to flush. He pulled away from my and looked down at me. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do pretty boy.” I scanned his face. His lip rolled under his teeth, and he nodded pathetically with a hint of pink dusted on his cheeks.

[zorosdimples]

cw: mourning, angst, and hurt/comfort. sweet ino takuma. in the same vein as this post. dedicated to @schrodingers-romy mwah mwah <3

it’s fucked up.

days bled into weeks, weeks seeped into months, and you’re still neck deep in the tides of mourning. along with the love of your life died your future, your hope. the once cosy apartment you shared with kento is a shell of a home—a painful memory of what could have been.

you’re curled in a ball on your sofa, the spot where he always settled at the end of a grueling day: tie discarded, collar unbuttoned, belt removed, scotch in hand. his clothes still hang in the closet (your therapist says it’s okay to take your time with his belongings, so you do). you’re swimming in his old, faded grey sweatshirt, along with a pair of pajama pants you bought him for his last birthday.

takuma is kneeling on the floor in front of you, beanie tossed aside, running a calloused palm up and down your forearm. you bemoaned your appearance when he showed up at the door with your favorite takeout, but he can’t help but think of how beautiful you are, even with swollen eyes and bitten lips and tears for another man—his mentor—glistening like dewdrops on your cheeks.

i’m fucked up.

“i’m s-sorry it always ends up like this,” you croak, a wry chuckle fluttering past your lips, dying almost instantly. you flash him a pathetic smile and use the sweatshirt cuff to swipe at your dripping nose. “go, takuma. you’ve done enough for me already. you should have fun instead of listening to me cry.”

the young man simply shakes his head, umber eyes filled with a bone-deep warmth—a hearty soup on a snowy day. “i want to stay.” please don’t make me leave. he squeezes your hand. “you don’t have to be alone right now.” all i can think about is you.

for the first time all evening, you grace takuma with a genuine smile, its radiance piercing his heart and flooding his bloodstream. he feels lightheaded as he sits next to you on the couch, like his chest might explode when you snuggle into his side. he wants nothing more that to kiss the tears from your face and swallow your sorrow and carry it as his own. but he’ll wait—he’ll always wait for you.

i’m sorry, nanami. but i think i’m in love.