#in the bits of time their back at the base their favorite way to spend their time is sitting in front of the crematory's oven while its

[lottins-only]

CROSS THE LINE | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader, unnamed fictional RM player x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: after a fallout with your boyfriend, you find solace in a spontaneous night at the movies, where you run into his golden boy teammate. one thing leads to another and you cross the line.

A/N: first judith fic!! this was really fun to write. (very loosely) based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. let me know what yall think <3

warnings: infidelity (i don't condone it yall its just fun to write morally gray characters 🫣)

someone once told you there’s no such thing as bad thoughts – that it’s your actions that truly define you.

you wonder what they’d say if they saw you now: sitting up in bed with your boyfriend sound asleep beside you, staring at your phone with a pounding heart, silently hoping, waiting, for a message from someone else.

you wait and wait, but there’s nothing. your home screen stays empty, mocking you. you glance at your boyfriend. his shallow breathing fills the quiet room, steady and oblivious.

he has no idea you came home at 3 a.m. wearing his teammate’s jacket.

you'd stuffed it in the back of your closet as soon as you got home, a relic of a night that shouldn’t have happened. you'd scrubbed yourself thoroughly in the shower, trying to wash away the smell of jude’s cologne that clung to your skin. but it’s still there. not on your skin anymore, but in your mind, stamped into your memory to stay forever. 

the way the flickering lights from the movie theater screen cast shadows on his beautiful face, the fleeting feeling of his warm hands on yours as he handed you his jacket, the full body rumble of his laugh, the feel of his soft lips on yours.

you will never forget. how could you, when that was the first time in months you’d felt seen? desired. wanted. needed. it’s an intoxicating feeling, like stepping into the sunlight after living in the shadows for the longest time.

and now, staring at your phone, you feel it all over again. the pull. the wrongness of it all.

a buzz breaks the silence. your heart jumps into your throat as the screen lights up and a single message appears.

jude: you got home safe?

it’s innocent enough. simple. harmless.

you could ignore it. pretend you didn’t see it. block his number and put an end to whatever this is before it spirals into something else.

but instead, your fingers move on their own accord.

you: yeah. thanks for checking.

you press send before you can stop yourself. you lock your phone and put it on the bedside table before closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep.

to your credit, none of this was planned. it all starts earlier that night. you and your boyfriend are supposed to have a date night, a rare opportunity to spend some alone time together. you pick out a dress he once says is his favorite and make a dinner reservation at his favorite spot.

but plans change quickly.

“babe, the guys just texted,” he says, barely looking up from his phone. “they’re hopping on fifa in a bit. you don’t mind if we raincheck, right?”

you stare at him dumbfounded as he flops down onto the couch.

“raincheck?” your voice trembles, the tears obvious, yet he doesn’t even glance at you.

“yeah. just tonight, we’ll do something soon,” he says dismissively.

it’s not the first time he’s blown you off, but tonight it stings a little more. maybe it’s the fact that he’s so indifferent to you and your feelings, he doesn’t even care to notice the relationship is teetering on the edge of a cliff. he doesn’t realize that you’re making an effort to save it while he’s unknowingly contributing to its unraveling.

you realized it too late, but you know now you’re not a partner to him, not really. you’re a glorified accessory, someone he can show off for external validation, a dependable constant in his life that’s only there to cheer him on and make him look good while he gives his attention and energy to the things he actually cares about: his friends, his family, and above all, his football.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning, but things changed quickly after he made the move to real madrid and became a bigger star. with every goal, every headline, and every paparazzi photo, you sank further into the background of his life.

you linger for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind, to look up and realize what he’s doing. but he doesn’t. so you grab your bag and leave without saying another word.

the cinema isn’t your first choice. you wander the streets for a while, debating whether to call a friend or just head home. but you need a distraction, something that can dispel all the thoughts running through your head. so before you know it, you’re buying a single ticket to whatever is playing next.

the theater is almost empty. it isn’t until you sit down and glance at your ticket that you realize you’re not seeing something new, but a re-release of a classic: Goodfellas.

halfway through the movie, you see a figure slip into a seat a few rows ahead of you. a few moments pass, and you feel a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head. it’s distracting, like an itch. you can't bear to ignore it any longer so you turn your head and look straight at the person. the figure quickly shifts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. his features are hidden thanks to the hoodie he’s wearing, but his height and broad shoulders give him away as a man.

you hold your gaze for a second longer, just to make sure he gets the message, before turning back to the screen. but your focus is broken after that.

a few more moments pass and you notice the man stand and make his way out of his row. you let out a quiet breath of relief, assuming he’s leaving. but from the corner of your eye, you see the same figure moving toward your seat. your body stiffens immediately. why is he coming your way? maybe it was a bad idea to come to a nearly empty theater alone so late at night.

you watch as he stops in front of you and slightly crouches to not block the view of the screen.

“y/n?” he asks, voice low yet familiar.

“uh, yeah?” you respond warily.

“thought it was you.” he pulls back his hood, revealing the grinning face of jude bellingham.

a wave of embarrassment immediately washes over you. it’s bad enough that your boyfriend doesn’t love you and prefers to spend time playing video games with his friends, but now you have to run into his teammate of all people while you’re publicly wallowing in your misery—his kind, handsome teammate who always makes you flush whenever you cross paths.

this time is no different. your face grows warm as you stutter, “oh! h-hi, jude.”

you brace for the questions: why are you here alone? where’s your boyfriend? why do you have tear stains on your cheeks?

they don’t come though. instead, he gestures to the seat next to you. “mind if i join you? my seat over there was right under the AC; i was freezing.”

you nod. jude flashes you a smile as he takes a seat.

and then nothing. you watch the rest of the movie silently, the only interaction between you being an elbow nudge from him to offer his pack of candy.

he’s completely engrossed. he laughs silently at certain scenes, and in the more intense ones lets out small gasps. for someone else, it might’ve been annoying, but for you, who’s used to your boyfriend’s indifference to everything, you find his enthusiasm refreshing, maybe even a little endearing.

you spend the rest of the movie mentally going through the list of things you know about him : he's the same age as you (your boyfriend begrudgingly posted a birthday wish on his instagram story once), he can't drive (you see him being picked up by a driver whenever you visit valdebebas), he's genuinely nice (he always says hi when he sees you around, and he's politely held a door open for you once or twice), his spanish isn't the best (you once ran into him hopelessly trying to change his order at the canteen, sheepishly apologizing to the annoyed barista before you helped him out), and your boyfriend quietly holds a dislike for him because he's 'attention seeking' ( you secretly think its not his fault that he's charming and easygoing, that he has everyone he meets wrapped around his finger).

when the movie ends and the lights begin to brighten, he turns to you.

"do you wanna get ice cream?"

you hesitate for a moment.

"yeah. i’d love to," you say finally.

you exit the cinema, and when the fresh outdoor air hits you, you ask the question at the tip of your tongue.

"why and how are you here?"

"could ask the same for you," he grins.

"yeah, but—" you begin, but are immediately silenced by the sight in front of you. jude reaches into the pocket of the jacket he's layered over his hoodie and pulls out a dreadlocked toupee. with the straightest face, he carefully pulls down his hood, places the wig on his head, and adjusts it before pulling the hood back up.

you blink.

"you were saying?" the corners of his mouth twitch at your facial expression. without waiting for a reply, he starts walking, leading you away from the cinema.

you walk in tandem, still giving him a confused look. when you catch sight of his (fake) locs swinging along to the rhythm of his steps, you can’t help it; you burst out laughing.

“what’s so funny?” he turns to you, a mock hurt look on his face. “i’m part jamaican, you know.”

you pause your walking, doubling over and clutching your stomach as you laugh. he stands patiently, looking slightly amused.

after you catch your breath and fully recover, you continue walking.

“so that’s how you go places unnoticed?” you ask, still giggling.

“yup,” he says. “otherwise it’s a nightmare. need a bodyguard and stuff.”

you nod sympathetically as you stroll down the quiet street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. jude walks with an easy confidence, his hands in his pockets while you glance over at him and his toupee every so often.

“so,” he says after a moment, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your excuse? why are you at a late night showing of Goodfellas all by yourself?”

your smile falters slightly. you look straight ahead, debating how much to share.

“just needed to get out of the house,” you say with a light tone.

jude doesn’t push, though the way he hums softly in response tells you he notices your answer is only a half-truth.

"what about you?" you ask.

"I like watching movies," he says simply.

when you give him a somewhat confused look, he pulls out his phone and opens the letterboxd app, showing you the extensive list of movies he's marked as watched. you skim through it and you’re surprised by the diversity. the list is seemingly filled with movies of all genres, from classic films to indie flicks. you didn’t expect this side of him, but somehow it makes sense.

as he enthusiastically explains the list, you can't help but feel endeared by the excited look on his face. you have the overwhelming urge to reach out and smooth over his furrowed brow with your finger. but for the first and only time that night, you don't act on that impulse.

you reach a small gelato stand located on a corner of the street, its neon sign glowing softly. jude steps forward and leans against the counter.

“pick whatever you want,” he says, winking as he passes you the menu.

“don’t mind if i do,” you say, raising an eyebrow. you ignore the way his words make you feel—warm and fluttery, like this is a first date between two single people.

after a moment of deliberation, you pick pistachio and hazelnut, watching as jude leans in to order the same for himself.

“you copying me?”

“nah,” he says with a smirk, passing your cone to you from the server. “just figured you have good taste.”

you wander away from the stand, both of you savoring your ice cream. for a while, you walk in comfortable silence. at one point, he removes the ridiculous wig from his head. it isn’t until you reach a park bench that jude breaks the silence.

"you know," he starts. "i haven’t seen you at a lot of games lately. everything good between you and your boyfriend?"

“‘your boyfriend?’” you tease. “why not call him by his name? you guys have beef or something?”

he stays silent.

you gasp half-jokingly. “oh my god! tell me everything, so i can sell the story to the tabloids.”

he lets out a laugh at that.

“you’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“c’mon, spill,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly. “is he, like, selfish? does he refuse to pass during games?”

jude chuckles, shaking his head again. “nah, nothing like that. he’s a good player. talented, hardworking… you just start noticing things when you’re around someone all the time, you know?”

he says it carefully, almost hesitantly. you tilt your head at him. “notice things like what?”

he shrugs, his gaze dropping to his melting cone. “like… maybe he doesn’t appreciate what he’s got.”

the words hang in the air between you. you don't know how to respond, so you just gaze down at your own ice cream.

"sorry," jude says quickly. "didn't mean to overstep. i just—forget it."

"no, it's fine," you say quietly. "you're not wrong."

you sit in silence for a few moments. you feel him lean back against the bench, and the next time he speaks, his tone is lighter.

"my dad's coming to visit tomorrow," he says casually, an excited undertone in his voice.

"yeah? that's nice. does he come often?"

"not as much as i'd like," jude admits. "he's got my little brother to worry about in sunderland."

you smile softly. “what do you guys usually do when he visits?”

"usually we grab some food..."

he speaks about his bond with his dad, and also his close relationship with both his brother and mother. soon the conversation moves to childhood memories; jude tells you stories about growing up in birmingham, the football academy there, how he met his best friends at school. in return, you share stories of your own childhood, each one met with genuine curiosity from jude. you laugh, the conversation feeling effortlessly easy and natural.

it isn’t until you pull out your phone and glance at the screen to check the time that reality crashes back in. you have a boyfriend waiting for you at home. a boyfriend who hasn’t called, hasn’t texted, hasn’t even noticed that you’ve walked out of his house.

you lick the last remnants of your ice cream and are just about to crunch into the cone when jude gestures toward your chin. “you’ve got a little…” he says, trailing off as he points.

“oh,” you mumble while jude scans your surroundings for a tissue. finding none, he leans in and gently swipes at the bit of ice cream with his thumb.

“got it,” he murmurs, his touch lingering just a second longer than required.

what happens next can only be described as a a lapse in thinking, or maybe something you've been holding back all night. before your brain can catch up with your actions, you grab his hand and bring his thumb to your lips. you lick the ice cream away, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

jude freezes, his breath catching, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

"i—" you start, but whatever explanation you're about to give disappears when jude leans closer, his hand hovering near your face, as if waiting for your permission.

you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

his lips brush against yours, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when you don’t push him away or move back, when, instead, you lean into him, his kiss deepens. it’s slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to memorize every inch of you.

the ice cream cone in your hand is forgotten, melting onto the pavement as your fingers tangle into his hoodie, pulling him closer. the world fades, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

when you finally pull apart, your breaths mingle in the night air and jude’s forehead rests against yours.

“jude…” you whisper, but you don’t know how to finish the sentence.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression serious. “tell me if I’ve crossed a line. i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

your heart flutters at the genuine care in his tone. you shake your head. “no, you didn’t.”

he doesn't keep his lips off you after that.

the next morning, you wake up feeling better than you have in months. there's a lightness in your chest, a warmth that’s been missing for what feels like forever.

you glance at your boyfriend, expecting to feel guilt or remorse. but there’s nothing. no pang of regret, no twist in your stomach. you feel... nothing at all.

you watch him roll out of bed and get ready for training. not a word passes between you as you sit down together in the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“so, what does your day look like today?” you try.

he doesn’t even look up, his attention entirely on his phone, scrolling with one hand while holding his fork with the other.

“i have a meeting at work that’s pretty—“ you start, but he cuts off.

“we’re doing penalty drills,” he mutters without looking up. “need to score more than bellingham so i can wipe that smug smile off his face. did you know he gets paid more than me?”

you just stare at him. you wonder what you even saw in him all those years ago. how had you overlooked the bitterness in his eyes, the envy? how had you missed it all along, his resentment towards anyone who seemed happier, luckier, more successful? his good looking face looks distorted to you now, forever changed to you to reflect the ugliness he holds inside. its as if you’re seeing him for who he really is for the very first time.

your phone buzzes on the table. without even checking, you know who it’s from.

jude: good morning :) sleep well?

you see it for what it is: an invitation to step into dangerous territory, to cross the line once more. a lifeline offering escape from the sinking ship that is your relationship.

you decide to take it.

you type a quick response and set the phone down. your boyfriend is grinning at an instagram reel now, completely absorbed.

you don’t speak to each other for the remainder of breakfast. this time it doesn't bother you at all.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Rivals With Benefits | Jey x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Jey and Jax both are forced to confront their feelings for one another.

Chapter: 4/5

Face Claim: Ariana Debose.

Warnings: Super mild angst, fluff, that should be it?

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. This is the Jey x Jax sequel to Swipe Right. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. While there is not smut in Chapter 1, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. This particular story features Jey as a Daddy Dom (Not Mysterio, you fucking nerds 😂) google if necessary and if this isn't for you, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 1,089

My masterlist can be found here.

🏷 Taglist - @xbriexx @acute-crashout-jeyuso @romansvrse @justazzi @vampygomez @mselenalovebug @lov3rla03 @jstarr86 @mindairy @biscochito23 @yana3sworld

It was a calm Saturday morning, a couple of months later and Jax was in the midst of a shopping spree with Her older sister Iris, younger sister Lele and her nieces Imani and Amira.

They had spent the morning trying on dresses, laughing and chatting about everything under the sun.

As Iris tried on her 500th wedding gown of the day, Lele's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"So, Jax..." she said, leaning against the dressing room door, "you've been spending a lot of time with Jey lately."

"We're the maid of honor and best man. Duh." Jax tried to brush it off.

Lele smirked, clearly not buying Jax's excuse.

"Come on, sis," she teased, nudging her with her elbow.

"We all know it's more than that. I saw the way you two were looking at each other during the engagement party."

Jax rolled her eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but she could feel her cheeks warming up.

She knew her sister was onto something, and it was making her a bit uncomfortable.

"We're just friends," she insisted, trying to maintain her cool facade.

"Thats still big. You hated his ass before." Iris commented.

Jax laughed, remembering the way she used to roll her eyes at Jey's cocky demeanor and goofy ass behavior.

"Yeah, I know," she admitted, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

"But he's not so bad now that we're friends," she added, trying to play it off as if they were just good acquaintances.

"Aunty Jax, you know you aren't fooling anyone but yourself right? This is a classic wattpad enemies to lovers trope." Imani chimed in.

Jax raised an eyebrow at Imani's comment, caught off guard by her bold observation.

She was about to protest, but Amira spoke up as well.

"She's right," the younger girl said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Jey would make a fun uncle!" she added, giggling at the thought of endless waffles and ice cream with one of her favorite people on the planet.

"Okay, okay, enough already," Jax said, waving her hands in mock exasperation.

She knew they were just having fun, but their words were making her heart race with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. She done fucked around and fell in love. But she won't admit it.

The girls continued to tease her mercilessly, giggling and making jokes about the obvious chemistry between her and Jey.

Iris and Lele just watched with amused expressions, clearly enjoying their sister's irritation.

Finally, Jax had enough of their playful teasing and tried to change the subject.

"Can we just focus on the dresses, please?" she said, trying to steer the conversation back to the task at hand.

The girls laughed at her feeble attempt to regain control of the conversation, but they obliged and moved on to discussing the dresses.

As they browsed through the racks, Iris and Lele shared knowing glances, silently agreeing that there was something more going on between Jax and Jey.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Meanwhile, Jey was spending the day with Jimmy and Naomi.

They had invited him over for lunch, and the conversation quickly turned to his relationship with Jax. Thanks to his sister in law's nosey ass.

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, studying Jey's face.

"So, how are things going with Jax?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Watchu mean, Uce?" Jey questioned

Jimmy smirked, noticing the way Jey avoided his gaze.

"Man, Come on," he said, leaning forward with a teasing tone. "You know exactly what I mean. You and Jax have been spending a lot of time together lately."

Naomi, sensing an opportunity to join in on the teasing, chimed in. "Yeah, you two are like magnets," she said with a sly grin.

"Always drawn to each other, always finding excuses to be near each other."

"It's not excuses. Roman made me his best man..." Jey argued.

Jimmy and Naomi exchanged a knowing glance.

"And we're just supposed to believe that's the only reason?" Jimmy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jey rolled his eyes, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

"You two are like a pair of old ladies, gossiping about me," he said, trying to deflect the attention away from himself.

Naomi chuckled, enjoying the way Jey was squirming under their scrutiny.

"We're just looking out for you, Jey," she said with a wink. "You know, making sure you're not falling for the wrong person."

Jey felt a pang in his chest at Naomi's words.

Falling for the wrong person... that's exactly what he was afraid of.

He had been fighting his feelings for Jax, trying to convince himself that it was just a casual friendship. Rivals with benefits is what they'd said. But every time he saw her smile, or heard her laugh, his heart skipped a beat.

Jimmy noticed the subtle change in Jey's expression and decided to press on.

"Hey, you alright, Uce?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Jey shook his head, trying to snap out of it. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile.

But Jimmy wasn't convinced. He knew his twin too well.

Jimmy reached across the table and placed a hand on Jey's shoulder.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" he said, his voice softening.

Jey nodded, feeling a lump forming in his throat.

He knew he couldn't hide his feelings from Jimmy forever, but admitting them out loud was terrifying.

Naomi watched the exchange with interest, sensing that there was something deeper going on between the twins.

Jimmy continued to study Jey's face, searching for any hint of what he was thinking.

He had always been able to read his twin like an open book, but this time, he was having trouble getting a read on him.

Jey looked away, avoiding his older brother's gaze.

Naomi, sensing the tension, decided to speak up.

"You know, it's okay to have feelings for someone," she said gently, breaking the silence.

Jey's heart raced at her words, his stomach churning with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

He knew she was right, but it was still a difficult truth to face.

Jimmy looked at him, his eyes filled with understanding.

"She's right, Uce," he said softly.

Jey closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Well shit.

He knew he couldn't keep running from his feelings forever. He needed to confront them head-on, no matter how terrifying it was.

With a heavy sigh, he finally spoke.

"I think... I think I'm falling for her."

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter

[darewolfcreates]

More of mob AU Nightlight

I like to think of OG Nightlight as a domesticated but Mob au Nightlight as feral hehe

Welcome home Mob au is by @clownsuu

Mob au Freddie is by @eldritchparasol

Nightlight is a basically a rat so I couldn't help but make a lil funny with the play on words .w.

[bi-writes]

Your MOB au gives me so many butterflies 🥴 I hear the key to a long and happy marriage is to be with someone you think is funny. How do you think Simon and his wife make each other laugh? I can see them being the couple that gossips while people watching or MOB wrangles Simon in bed to show him funny cat videos on her phone.

mail-order bride

simon likes spending time with you without screens. he does love watching a movie with you, but one of his favorite ways to spend time with you is to open a little closet of board games and play one of them with you. he'll put on a little music, spread out the game, and you usually spend the evening sitting in his lap and playing either on the couch or on the floor using the coffee table or at the dining table.

"simon, what would you do if i was a worm?"

simon raises a brow, fitting a corner piece of the puzzle into place. he snorts a bit.

"wot are y'on, love?"

"i'm serious!" you laugh. "what would you do if i was a worm?"

"step on you, baby. you'd be a fuckin' worm. gross."

you pout a little, dramatically, and simon winks at you.

"olright, love. i'd put ya in a little box and cherish ya foreva. tha' wot y'wanna hear?"

you giggle, settling in his lap, picking up an edge piece and putting it in its spot.

"yeah. that's what i wanna hear."

"simon, look."

you hold out your phone in bed, shoving it in his face. he grunts a little, squinting at the bright screen, and he raises a brow as he watches a compilation of orange cat videos put together. he chuckles a little when he sees it, leaning over the bed and planting a kiss on your cheek. he rolls over onto his side, curling a big arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. he tucks his face over your shoulder, leaning over you, and you spend the better part of an hour giggling to yourself as you show simon the collection of videos on your feed.

the next morning, your phone pings while simon is away on base. you hurry out of the kitchen, wiping your floury hands on the apron you wear before seeing a request for a new follower.

you open the app, raising a brow when you look at the account without a profile picture asking to follow your private account.

pumpkin__eater141 wants to follow you.

you click on the profile, rolling your eyes when you see the only picture on the account a very grainy, filtered photo of two sergeants sticking their tongues out and holding up bunny ears behind each other. in the background, very blurry, you can see a glimpse of a skeleton-bone painted glove holding up a middle finger. the caption reads wankerzzz!!!!

the account has 1 follower (sudz_n_budz141), and it follows none, and you can't help but smile when you see the profile has nothing but a cherry emoji as the description.

you accept the follow request, and you follow them back. the whole day, every so often, you get a new video as a direct message. when you finish with the sourdough and leave it to rise, you start to scroll through the intermittent messages you've already gotten.

more cat videos. crazy dashcam footage with the comment "fuckin' mad." some woman who makes crockpot meals with every kind of bagged cheese you can get at the store on high for five hours.

you can't stop smiling. and when you pull out a pot to make dinner later, you and simon make eye contact before laughing.

"olright, baby, which one ya want?" simon murmurs, nuzzling his mask against your cheek. you giggle, looking up at the display. there's stuffed bears, big squishmallows, pillows. you reach a hand up behind you and caress the back of his neck, biting your lip until you point up at the big cherry squishmallow hanging by the top.

"gotta hit all the glasses to get that one, mate," the attendant says, and you look over your shoulder up at him.

"ooooo...not sure if you can hit all your targets, lieutenant riley?" you ask, and simon snorts, kissing your jaw through the mask before making his way towards the game counter. he picks up the toy rifle, adjusting it in his grip before holding the sight up and taking his stance. you bite your lip watching him. he looks incredibly sexy with that thing in his arms, even if its a fake. it's even sexier hearing the bell ring and watching your husband with terrifying precision knock every glass bottle down. one after the other, each glass falls, and you squeeze your legs together slightly as he goes for a bonus round and knocks them all over again, even quicker.

he turns around when he has your prize in his hands, a big fluffy cherry with a little smile and a little green leaf hat. you squeeze it to your chest before standing on your toes, and simon leans down to peck your lips through the mask. he wraps a big arm around your waist, and when you both pull back, you can't help your big smile, the laughter, that sweet, pretty shine in your eyes.

simon laughs, too.

it's easy when you're this happy.

[btsvt-bar]

Fuckboy!Wonwoo going for shy!reader since he assumes they’re a virgin, just to find out reader is an absolute freak and rides him until he passes out

wonwoo bias wrecked me so much after the follow again concerts that this just came to life on it’s own. i wrote the freshman experience based off of how it is on my country and i loved writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too! ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

fuckboy!wonwoo who’s your game design course sunbaenim. he contradicts all paradigms about nerds, because he’s hot as fuck.

fuckboy!wonwoo who spots you on the first day of classes. he sees you walking past him in your tiny skirt and "I ♡ games" tshirt and finds you adorable.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fights with other veterans to keep you as his freshman. he loses the argument to Nayeon, the course’s students’ president, and sulks for the rest of the day.

fuckboy!wonwoo who hits on you at the bar that night. everyone’s whispering about the two of you.

since Nayeon’s done her job and warned you before hand about Wonwoo’s reputation, you turn him down nicely because you hate the attention. of course, it only spurs him on.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tried to befriend you as a way of getting into your pants (well, he’s a fuckboy after all!).

a couple months after, once he realizes you’re actually really funny and outgoing when you feel comfortable enough, he finds himself enjoying the time you two spend together.

fuckboy!wonwoo who becomes obsessed with you. he convinces himself it’ll fade away once he fucks you. but then he finds himself getting so fucking jealous when he hears you calling Seungcheol your “oppa”. he knows Cheol has a thing for you — your innocent, virgin like persona is driving every male student wild. so he feels his blood boiling when you touch his hyung’s bicep as you smile sweetly and bat your eyelashes.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really annoyed when his friends mock him, claiming he lost his charms and won’t get to fuck you like he would do to any other girl.

"it’s up to Coups Hyung to pop her cherry." Jeonghan holds back a laugh as Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

Like hell we will! he thinks.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tries to sleep with someone else to get off and forget about you. but it doesn’t work and he gets more frustrated than before.

fuckboy!wonwoo who offers to help you with your class project and goes to your shared dorm room on a Saturday night. you open the door and he holds his breath when he sees your super princess peach cropped shirt.

"what? it’s my favorite game" you state, with a pout on your lips, when he stares for too long.

"oh, nothing. it’s a good one." he babbles, averting his eyes from your chest. your shirt was probably old, since he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric. he swallows nervously, trying to shake the image of your pebbled nipples off of his head.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets distracted by your short sleeping shorts, since they do the bare minimum to cover you up.

"Nonu, are you listening?" you complain as you shake him. his eyes are out of focus when he meets your gaze. "earth to Nonu! what are you thinking about?"

fuckboy!wonwoo who bites his lower lip and stares at you.

"i’m thinking about you, cutie." he flirts. usually, you would blush and avert your eyes. so it’s a shocker for him when your Bambi eyes transform into a siren gaze.

“what about me?" you whisper, inching closer to his face. "is it about the ways you’d like to fuck me?" that’s all it takes for Wonwoo to take off his glasses and crash his lips into yours.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really excited and surprised when he finds out you’re not a virgin. in fact, you’re a total freak in bed. he feels a bit fooled since you got everyone believing you’re a pure angel, but he isn’t about to complain.

not when you’re jumping up and down on his dick with your pretty boobs on full display for him.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fucks up into you with all his might, thinking that he could die happy buried in your heat like that.

you’re riding him so good, your hips grinding against his and your hands clawing at his chest. your lips are red and swollen from kissing, your head’s thrown back in pleasure. you let out quiet ah-ah-ahs that enter Wonwoo’s ears and spin down his body directly to his dick.

fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly blows his load when you ask him to choke you.

his big hand presses on your throat with minimum force, but you demand more pressure and he complies.

fuckboy!wonwoo who circles your clit and sucks your nipples to help you cum. and when you do, he follows shortly after, emptying three months worth of blue balls in the condom and nearly passes out.

fuckboy!wonwoo who cuddles you and realizes he’s been tricked.

"i’m not complaining, but i thought you were a virgin."

you laugh, turning around to face him. "and the resident fuckboy gets played." pride bubbles in your chest. Wonwoo smiles at you, his brown eyes still a bit glazed over from his high.

"i liked being played" he admits with a shy smile.

fuckboy!wonwoo who refuses to go back to his own room. thank goodness your roommate is not coming back for the night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[jasperxkuromi]

Play ideas for chronically ill, disabled, or otherwise bed bound/low energy littles

Hi all! I am chronically ill. I am not comfortable sharing my specific diagnosis, but I am more than okay with talking about disability in general. Everything below is based on my own personal experiences and activities I like to do while stuck in bed. Everyone's body and experiences are different. I may list some things that just aren't an option for you, and that's okay. You are more than welcome to add on to this post with activities you do too!

🐛 Open the curtains and cloud watch! I like to look for clouds that remind me of animals or characters and day dream a story about them. If the weather is nice, consider opening your window a little bit and letting some fresh air into your room.

🐦 Bird watch! I have a bird feeder outside my window that I painted myself from a kid's kit. There are also bird feeders that have suction cups that can be stuck right on your window. You can also make your own seed ornaments. You could pick yourself up a kids book or two on learning to identify birds.

🌷 Get a window planter. You may need someone's help to set one up, but once they are in place they are fairly easy to care for. I like pansies and marigolds because they remind me of childhood, and they are low maintenance and do well in containers.

📖 Audiobooks are great for middles who want to read chapter books. If you have a library card you can borrow tons of audiobook, ebooks, and comics through hoopla and Libby for free. There are some audiobooks for younger kiddo books, but honestly I think YouTube is better for that.

🖼️ Scrapbooks and journals! Being penpals with another little is also an option, but I do recommend using basic internet safety and common sense. (I don't think you should do this if you are under 18). You could always scan/take pictures of your letter and send it digitally to your penpal instead.

🛏️ If you spend a lot of time in bed, and have the money to do so, I really recommend getting items to make your time in bed more comfortable. Extra pillows, or even a reading pillow can be helpful. Lap desks or bed tables can give you space to color or set up play scenes with small toys.

🌟 You can also decorate the area around your bed to make it more child like! Fairy lights, glow in the dark stars, bed canopies, posters, and the like.

🪑 I have a floor chair I use for times I am playing outside of my bed. Being close to the floor helps me feel small, but not having back support hurts after a short while. I have an adjustable one that I can lay flat on the floor as a sleeping mat. Very helpful for the times when I need a quick nap after playtime.

🎨 Check the seasonal and kids sections at dollar stores and Five Below. I usually find fun craft kits that can keep me occupied for a bit for really cheap.

🧶 Do your own crafts! I like the knit and crochet. Some people can do them in bed, but I find it difficult to find a comfortable way to do that. However making friendship bracelets in bed works out pretty well. They make great gifts, even for non little friends. Or you could make matching ones for you and your CG or favorite plushie!

🪀 Make your own sensory bin! You can find tons of tutorials and ideas online. Bonus is you can get most of the items you would use at the dollar store. There are tons of other DIY sensory toys you can make as well if you look around. Glitter/shaker bottles are pretty popular too.

🐇 Cuddle with your stuffed animals. Tell them stories. Play pretend. Read to them. They will appreciate all of it.

🎮 If you have an old 3DS stuffed away in a drawer somewhere, pull it back out. 3DS are fairly easy to install homebrew and there are toooons of kiddo friendly games you could get (check 3ds.hacks.guide for this, do not follow tutorials on YouTube or random websites as they very well could be outdated)

💊 Decorate your medicine organizers with stickers. If you use mobility aids you can decorate them as well! Fake flowers are great for decorating mobility aids and there are tons of ideas you can find online.

🍼 I have stomach problems that makes it hard for me to eat enough. I often drink Ensure to make sure I am getting enough calories/nutrients. I get the strawberry flavor and sometimes put it in my sippy cup and pretend it is strawberry milk 😋

😴 If you need rest, rest! You deserve to get as much sleep as your body needs. Babies and toddlers take naps all the time! Trying to just exist with chronic health issues is difficult enough. You don't need to push yourself.

[rene-darling]

Househusband- wanderer

...kinda yandere wanderer..power bottom at the start only..afab and amab reader..also afab and amab wanderer!...found it on a Pinterest acc ASH....

...Wanderer....

Househusband wanderer! who decides the best way to live as a new and reformed person is to lead a more docile life, and what's more docile than staying home all day and tending to your lovely partner?

Househusband wanderer! Who's not a homemaker, he doesn't quite know what to do at times and it becomes overwhelming. Who can't stand doing nothing and constantly has to be doing something.

Househusband wanderer! Who, whenever you try going out to eat something special like a desert, insists that he can do it better!

Househusband wanderer! Who makes your favorite dishes from scratch, Who perfects the recipe by making it a dozen times while you're at work

Househusband wanderer! Who gets mad at you when you spend too much time at work, he doesn't care that your boss specially requested you in fact- why the fuck did your boss request you of all people hm?!

Househusband wanderer! Who you have to ensure that no you wouldn't ever leave him even if your boss had a thing for you- not that he does.

Househusband wanderer! Who's not convinced, you mean there's a chance that your boss does like you?..he won't stand for that.

Househusband wanderer! Who when one day you come back from work after not seeing your boss all day surprises you with a pretty skirt for you to fuck him in!

Househusband wanderer! Who brushes you off when you ask "What's the occasion darlin?" "I'm having a good day..this will make it better."

Househusband wanderer! Who holds onto your hand guiding it up his small skirt just to tease you. You're surprised, he must be having a really good day for him to do this, usually, he's much shyer.

Househusband wanderer! Who will be on his knees after a full day of work in the kitchen just to please you, his beloved.

househusband wanderer! Who'll work his mouth like he does his hands in the kitchen, a bit clumsy but a good end result nonetheless.

[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who'll lick up all your juices like a hungry dog, he can't get enough, he'll leave soft kisses over your cunt watching as it quivers. "quit being a tease.." you're definitely gonna get him back for this.

[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who'll leave bite marks and kisses all over your inner thighs, sucking and parting from your skin with a pop! Making sure he's left his mark, this way you'll remember him, this way you'll know that you belong to him as he belongs to you

[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who whines and almost cums untouched when you get fed up with his teasing and grab his hair, pushing his face right into your cunt

[afab reader] househusband wanderer! Who holds onto your legs leaving scratches all over them as he stays on his knees for however long you want, drowning in you, he's aching and his knees are bruising, but he's relentless to please you

[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who loves your groans! He leaves teasing kisses up your cock from the base all the way to the tip

[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who leaves kitten licks on your raging boner, he loves your cock, the way it twitches when he plays with it, looking up at you with such innocent eyes as he toys with you.

[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who chokes on your cock when you grab his hair, stuffing his mouth full, he loves choking on your cock, moaning against it as you force his head up and down, he swears it's touching the back of his throat!

[amab reader] househusband wanderer! Who swallows all that you give him! Not letting a single drop of your cum reach the ground.

Househusband wanderer! Who shivers gulping down the last of your remains that are left in his mouth when you look down at him with a glare, "Come on baby, think I forgot about your teasing earlier? "

Househusband wanderer! Who immediately crawls onto the bed when you claim it to be your turn.

[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who chokes back sobs as you toy with his soaking pussy, barely pushing the tip of your finger in just to take it right back out

[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who sobs and begs you to give him a bit more! This isn't fair!! He didn't mean it! He's sorry!

[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! whose eyes roll back when you pinch his clit, letting out a cute scream, his hands scramble to hold yours but you just push them down

[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! whose pussy is soaking wet, his liquids are coating his inner thighs as it pulses for something more it makes such cute squelching sounds as you toy with the cute thing

[afab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who squirts all over himself the second you stuff a finger in his desperate hole, who whines for you to wait a bit before you stuff him full with another one!

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who cries out for you when your hand keeps circling his red tip, precum drips from it as if it was a broken fountain.

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who's cock quivers at the slightest touch of you, who sobs, fat tears streaming down his face as you blow cold air onto his dick

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who gets desperate, begging, and pleading with you! He swears he didn't mean to tease you!

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who jerks when you suddenly fist his cock sending shivers up his body! Fuuuck! You're so mean!!

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! who's mumbling thanks yous again and again as you finally move your hand, sobbing for you to quicken the pace

[amab wanderer] househusband wanderer! Who shoots cum out like a fountain, spraying all over his stomach, who now starts begging you to slow down "slow down..? But darling, this is what you wanted wasn't it? So quiet down and take it like a good boy."

Househusband wanderer! He cuddles up to you after you're both done, he smiles into your hug, he seems like in a really good mood today..hm.

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[skycowboys]

Let’s Draw Wings

I’ve gotten the question/request of how I draw wings lots and lots so I’ve decided to make a dedicated post!

Now...I’m no master, but I have found a way that I like to draw wings that’s efficient for me. There three main points: 

References

Simplification

Texture Management

First of all - References

My favorite wing reference of all time is this post by Jenn on Twitter. I have both the images saved but I use the Wing Shapes one, below, alllllll the time. Like for real all the time!

I also keep pretty extensive collections of wing photo reference. When I’m having trouble, I’ll trace a few or do studies to get back into the swing of things. Here are links to my Pinterest boards:

Broadwing Reference (passive soaring and high-speed)

Longwing Reference (active soaring)

Shortwing Reference (elliptical and hovering)

Secondly - Simplification

When I sketch wings, I simplify Jenn’s diagram even further -

For me, the key to drawing wings is simplifying the wing down - from the structure to the feathers - the goal for me is to be able to draw them quickly and have the proper information conveyed. It needs to look like a wing in the base sketch. If it doesn’t, no amount of rendering and extra feathers will help. I like to break the wing into the three main moving parts. The orange is one part, then the purple contains two main chunks feathers that you can group together and move as their own parts. 

On top of that, I like to think of wings like a sheet of paper. They can bend and fold in on themselves, with the orange meaty bits anchoring everything together. 

Lastly - Texture

I like to call wings “texture monsters”. Feathers are hard to manage and can easily make wings look over-busy and muddy. Just like before, I break the wing into chunks so I can spend less time drawing the wing and it’s feathers:

Then you can put it all together and push things further -

So yeah this is how I throw wings together! The wings I draw aren’t super technical or detailed, but I what matters for me is that they look and feel like believable wings at a glance -

~ Larn

--

Discord | Patreon | Art Prints

[seresinhangmanjake]

Late Date

Summary: It’s your birthday and Tyler’s going to do some wrangling to make sure no tornado can ruin your day. Unfortunately, that also makes him and the Wranglers a bit late to your party. 

Notes/Warnings: Fluff. It’s not angsty at all, despite how the summary may sound. Inaccurate meteorology/tornado stuff. Slight jealousy. This is based on a lyrics request: “you’ve got long hair slicked back white t shirt and I’ve got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” It’s just meant to be kinda cute, and I did my best, so hopefully you guys like it. Comments make my entire world, so if you do like it, let me know :)

Words: 1650

Tyler Owens Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

It happens often. You and Tyler are enjoying your time together when Disaster suddenly puts you in her path. A picnic in the park, a late-evening rodeo, a dinner date for him to meet your mother—all ruined. And yes, you believe Disaster does this intentionally. Disaster, in the form of a funnel of warm air and moisture, is as much in love with your boyfriend as you are, and she’s a jealous bitch, always calling him away when he’s in the throes of life with you. 

Luckily for Tyler, you’re not as jealous as his tornado. You’re not as greedy. When he leaves you to meet her, you let him go because he’s the town hero, and you don’t let your emotions get in the way of his job. After all, he does what he does to save the things he loves—this town, his family, you. And regardless of the time he spends with her, you know you’re his number one. 

Today, however, you could do without his job. The jealousy that you have rarely felt up to this point seeps through as he throws your favorite white t-shirt of his over his sculpted chest before buckling the belt wrapped around his jean-clad hips. He stomps one foot down into his boot and then the other before rifling through the dresser chest at the base of the bed.

“You have to do this on my birthday?” you ask, trying not to pout from your seated position on the mattress. The silk sleeve of your robe falls down your shoulder, exposing bare skin, and despite the chill, you don’t pull the garment back up your arm. Anything to keep him in this bed, you think, and for a moment, you you’re satisfied that it might be working. Tyler pauses on his hunt for a clean flannel as his eyes glue to your chest, your pebbled nipples just barely hidden by the rest of the smooth, thin material. 

You sit up on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck, but it’s from your touch that Tyler finally blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Darlin’, wouldn’t you rather feel reassured that your evening tonight will go tornado-free? I’m just going to go with the guys, disrupt anything that’s already formed, and observe the conditions as best I can so we don’t get any coming our way when we’re supposed to be celebrating another year of your life.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he hits you with logic, but it’s made harder by the pout on his face. That is supposed to be your pout. He’s the one leaving you on your birthday—decent reason or not—not the other way around. 

“Fine,” you say.

Tyler grins from ear to ear. He leans in and captures your lips in a long kiss before pulling back and brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. “We’ll meet you at the bar, ok?”

Nodding, you say, “Yea,” and untangle your arms from his neck. He gives you one last kiss. 

“Happy Birthday, darlin’” glides to your ear in his smooth, low voice, and then he’s out the door. 

—

“He’ll be here,” your cousin tells you. You’ve been staring at the bar door for a half-hour, disappointed with each new blond cowboy who walks into the crowded space. “When has he ever let you down?”

You sigh. “I know. But why did the bitchy tornadoes have to run wild today of all days? He said they chased four between here and the next town over, and two of them put up a real fight,” you say, relaying the information of Tyler’s earlier texts. “Plus, it’s raining now. That’ll only make it more difficult for them to get back.”

The bartender offers you and your cousin the drinks she ordered. She winks at him and downs the entire glass in one gulp—which he seems to find very impressive—before nudging your glass closer to your folded hands atop the counter. 

“Well, the only thing to do is drink up,” she orders. “Might as well have fun while we wait.”

—

You’re two drinks in. Your cousin has knocked back four, and while she’s no lightweight, the effects show in the uptick of her flirtiness with the bartender. She’s agreed to wait around until his shift is over, which was quickly retracted when she remembered that it’s your birthday and the fun she is meant to be having is with you, not the hot guy who stopped charging her for drinks an hour ago. But you assuage her guilt, knowing you have no intention of hanging around a crowded bar until two in the morning unless your boyfriend is going to be with you, birthday or not. 

With the acceptance of your third drink, you hope to easier ignore the appreciative glances from the blond cowboys on the other side of the mass of dancers in the center of the room. You must be a sunny-haired, country boy’s type, but they aren’t your man, and to be honest, you’re surprised they’re daring enough to look so long. The town is small enough that you figured by now everyone knows you’re Tyler’s girl, but clearly, that’s not the case. Either that or they just don’t care. 

When you start to feel it—the slight high, the looser inhibitions—you decide the best course of action is to simply ignore them, and so you hop down from the stool and make your way to the dance floor to do exactly that, planting yourself in the middle of a group of like-minded women swaying their hips to the tune. Like that, you let yourself go, alcohol allowing you to surrender to the flow of the feminine voice coming through the speakers. Your mind drifts, your eyes close, and when you feel a hand on your waist, you think of Tyler. When hips grind against yours, you think of Tyler. When lips touch your neck, you think of Tyler. And when your eyes open, you see Tyler.

He steps into the bar with the Wranglers in tow, his soaked white t-shirt clinging to his torso that every woman—even those invested in men of their own—notices, his hands slicking back his damp locks. With a grin on his handsome face, he glances around the space in search of you, but when he finds you, that grin drops faster than a rock can hit the ground. 

It’s then that you realize the paws on your body are not his. The breath hitting behind your ear is that of a stranger. Tyler’s stomping his way over to you, but you don’t need him to release his building rage because you have plenty of your own. 

Flipping around, your palm meets the cheek of one of the knock-off Tylers. He yelps and rubs his face. His irises turn red, and he looks ready to give you a scolding or call you some sort of vile name, but his eyes widen at the shadow that suddenly looms over you and he shrinks where he stands. 

“Y-Your girlfriend?” he eeks out. 

It’s fascinating to see the demeanor shift. Tyler must have more of a reputation than you realized. You haven’t lived in town long—you moved in with him three weeks ago after a year of long-distance dating—but you’ve known for a while that he is well-loved and anyone who crosses him crosses the town. What you didn’t know was that the people’s devotion to their tornado-wrangling hero could incite such fear. And honestly, you’re a little impressed; a little turned on. 

Tilting your chin up, the back of your head lands against your boyfriend’s chest. His arm comes around your waist, hand flattening over your stomach. “You think?” he spits. 

When knock-off Tyler skitters back to the gaggle of knock-off Tylers, your Tyler turns you around to face him. With a cocked brow, he says, “Now, darlin’, what was that?”

You shrug. “Thought he was you.”

Tyler looks over your shoulder to the group of blonds. His eyes narrow. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve had a bit to drink,” you chuckle.

His mouth parts, an ahh sound leaving his throat as if to say, ‘That explains it.’ “Where’s your cousin?” His gaze follows yours to the familiar woman whose body is half thrown over the countertop, her lips connected to the guy whose neglect of other patrons is about to cause a riot. But you don’t care about a likely-to-be-fired bartender; you care that your boyfriend was absent for so much of your birthday.

“What took you so long?”

You’ve started to gently sway with the music again, this time taking the correct Tyler with you. Your hands clasp behind his neck as his link around your waist, pulling you in close. 

“Sorry, darlin’. It was rougher than we anticipated,” he says, and though you expected to be much more put out, you feel settled with that explanation. You’re just happy he’s with you now and not standing you up for a date with his unpredictable weather. “You look pretty,” he tells you as his palms slide down over the skirt that’s snuggly fitted around your hips. “I haven’t seen this one before.”

“Bought it today.”

“For me?”

“For me.” You roll your eyes. “But I might have guessed you’d like it.”

He hums, gaze raking appreciate up your body to your mouth. “I do,” he says, then he presses his lips to yours. However, remembering the scarlet hue coating your lips, you quickly pull back. 

“Your whole mouth is going to be red if you keep kissing me.”

Tyler’s brow pinches. One hand’s fingers glide up your body and slip between the strands of your hair. “Good,” he says. “Then people will know we’re a matching set.”

[pha55ed]

Diet Pepsi || F2

type :: smut! tw/cw :: size kink (ollie), corruption (paul), fem!reader (all) contains :: ollie, paul, pepe, zane summary :: certain kinks that the drivers have, - "break all the rules 'til we get caught" diet pepsi - addison rae (my first smut on this acc!)

request :: i desperately need a paul fic based on diet pepsi by addison rae i dont know why i js think its such a perfect combination 🤧 also maybe bed chem by sabrina carpenter is also perfect for him - 🧸 (thank u for the request! i love ovulation songs LOL)

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 87 size kink

He's aware that he's bigger than most people, but he loves comparing how much smaller you are to him. Hand sizes, height, weight, anything. It makes him so happy to know that he's stronger than you, it makes him feel so masculine and protective.

It's a bit rude, but honestly he doesn't care - he loves treating you like a rag doll. Using one hand to pin both of your hands down above your head so he can use you without you clawing at his back. Easily separating your thighs from each other with his strength even if you try to close them. Or his favorite, simply lifting you up into the air and fucking you while standing up - gripping your waist with two hands and lifting you up and down on him with such ease.

But don't worry, after being so mean to you he's gentle at the end. Cuddling you in his arms, he's always going to be the big spoon. Brushing your hair to the side and cupping your face, telling you that you did amazing even though you were a pillow princess.

Paul Aron | 17 corruption

There's just something about ruining your innocent image. It doesn't matter if you're a virgin or not, but the way that you're perceived by the public being so different from how he sees you. The media sees you as a sweet and quiet person, more reserved than others.

Yet he sees you in ways no one else is allowed to. And he loves that, he loves knowing that he's ruining your image, he's the one making you act so out of character.

Wearing things like a cute sweater, innocent skirts, and bows in your hair make him go crazy. He doesn't want you to take them off, he'd rather fuck you while wearing those so he can see this sweet girl get her brains fucked out.

Pepe Marti | 21 cock warming (lwk edging but it depends)

He's a busy guy with a lot of training to do. So the best way to stay close together is to simply just cock warm, it makes perfect sense. You sit on his lap, his dick in you, while he stim races for hours on ends. His bare chest is so warm and comfortable, you can't help but try to fall asleep.

But you're never able to, because the second he crashes or finishes his race - he relieves his feelings onto you. Thrusting into you by surprise, going at a rapid and fast pace. He'll only stop once he's over his anger or the next race loads in.

And once it does, he stops instantly and locks into his race. So you're left there, edged and overstimulated from the past times you've came all over him. It's confusing in your guts, but it's better to feel full than empty.

Zane Maloney | 05 overstimulation

Being a racer requires being an adrenaline junkie and good health. Perfect for you, since you get the honors of having your brains get fucked out by Zane every time he's free. He loves using all his energy and pent up anger on you. He'll spend hours fucking you without him even cumming once, to make sure that you get the best experience.

But it's never boring, as if could be with him. He loves trying new positions and adding different stimulations for you. Reverse cowgirl, doggy style, 69, every position ever made has been tried by Zane and you. Every single sex toy has also been tried by Zane and you, no matter how odd or weird.

Not only is it a good way for him to get his energy out, but he's also just a curious person. Seeing you react to certain touches, hearing you moan just a bit louder, all of it is worth it to him. It makes him so happy to know that he's making you feel good. He doesn't even care how long he has to wait till he finally cums, because any time with you is good time.

(Zane is deadass so cute like omg, why have I never looked at him??? he has tattoos? listens to podcasts for fun?? loves the US and the diverse culture??? the cutest fucking gummy smile I've ever seen????? I love him now)

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

god i feel rough (failing delusionship) so let's do a quick little reaction to giving the 141 little gifts

you and soap regularly sit around and watch your favorite movies. gives you guys something extra to talk about while out in the field. most of them military related like American sniper or some really stupid comedies like the Hangover. A long time favorite of both of yours is the Office, though. So when you're on leave and see one of those stupid Dunder Mifflin keychains, you don't even think twice about getting it for him. When you're back and give it to him, Johnny gets real quiet and puts it on his keys. Gives you a little kiss to your temple and turns on one of your favorite episodes. Keeps you in his arms for awhile after that, platonically of course, bonnie.

ghost and you don't really talk much. you're both together a lot though, existing in each other's orbit. he does paperwork, cleans his guns, stitches up a new mask, whatever. you work on a new hobby, watch YouTube, sleep, or yap into the void. nevertheless, you two are very close. imagine simon's surprise one day as you two sit, your back against his shoulder, as you finish up a friendship bracelet for him. intricate little heart design. you hold it out to him in offering with a little smile, a bit too cautious for his taste. holds his wrist out, lets you put it on him. doesn't say much, but notices you made yourself a matching one. takes it, puts it on your wrist, and brings it to where his mouth is under his mask. little peck. best gift he's ever gotten, birdie. goes back to his work, but it becomes his fidget toy. inspects your wrist when he sees you without yours, brows furrowed. follows you around like a little lost puppy until you confirm that yes, simon, everything's fine.

gaz is baby. he loves spending time with you around base. your room is next to his, making it is easy for you two to meet up and have a nice time. however, his time in the military has made him harder and more forgetful to civilian celebrations and traditions. so when you two are sitting on night watch and you pull out a little cake with happy birthday gaz written on it, he remembers fond memories of a time before. loves you for bringing good memories to his forefront. shares with you, feeding you with his fork. pinkies linked as you watch the sunrise.

gruff old man price won't accept much. he's got a lot on his plate, doesn't need much else going on around him. however, when his favorite little sergeant stops by with a little treat and a cigar for him, he's gooey. all pleasant smiles, wonderful manners, asking about your day. hides his emotions when you mention a pesky little flea on another squad has been bothering you. don't worry, darling, you don't know it but he'll take care of it (if one of his boys doesn't first).

they'd be jealous of eachothers attention on you if they didn't feel the exact same way. pretty little thing, only for them.

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle pt. iii

(Halloween special)

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader summary: The fall fest rolls around. You and Art are part of the parent committee. An unexpected meeting leads to another moment in a parking lot. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, description of panic attack word count: 3.6K a/n: This part gives a bit more context to each of their lives. It doesn't really progress the plot very much, but I enjoyed writing it. previous part | next part

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

It’s a Wednesday afternoon. The house is quiet, free of the frenetic energy that children bring. Kaleb is still at school, and you’d taken the day to finish preparing your baked goods for the fall fest on Friday. The only noise to be heard is the sound of Art panting into your ear.

“Oh…f-fuck… please, please.”

Halfway through decorating the sugar cookies, he’d started pressing kisses to the side of your neck. You had tried shooing him off, but it was to no avail.

That’s how you end up pressed against the kitchen counter with your dress bunched up at the hips. One strap is halfway down your arm as Art frantically ruts into you from behind.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans into your neck. 

He has one hand holding your hip in place while his other arm pins your back against his chest. In between thrusts, he uses one hand to greedily palm at your breasts.

When you start clenching around him, Art snakes a hand around to your front. He moves his fingers to where his cock is throbbing inside you. He groans at the wetness that has seeped out of you and collected at his base. You moan when he drags his fingers up to rub desperate circles over your slippery clit.

“Want you to cum, ah, need to feel it baby, please,” he pants.

It isn’t long before you’re throwing your head back and squeezing around him.

Ѽ

“Now, will you please let me finish these cookies?” You huff. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come over.”

He snorts. “You said you could use the help.”

“Well that’s when I thought you’d actually be of some help.”

He grins at you with lidded eyes.

The truth is Art did come over to help you, but he also came because watching you bake has become one of his favorite things to do. Since the two of you have started seeing each other more often, he’s started spending time at your place during the weekends when Kaleb has to stay with his dad. Though you don’t admit it, he’s noticed that you tend to bake when you’re worried. Art thinks it must take your mind off of things. It’s as if you go on autopilot. You disappear into the task as everything fades to the background. It reminds Art of what tennis used to feel like.

The baking also reminds him of his grandmother. Before she moved to the nursing home, she would always bake cookies for Art when he was young. He’d know because the sweet aroma would fill his nostrils upon entering the front door.

Sometimes, he was able to watch her bake and take in the entire process. It was calming for him to observe all the various steps and pass her different ingredients. He wondered how she knew the exact amount to add, and she’d tell him it was because of “years and years of practice.” Art quickly grew fond of the idea of building something up from scratch. And he learned that through lots of practice, you could make something really sweet.

So, in a way, you remind Art of his grandmother. He doesn’t tell you that though because he doesn’t think that’s the best thing to say to someone he’s just been balls deep inside. He does tell you, however, that he likes seeing you like this.

You look up at him in between adding orange icing to a cookie. Some of the icing spills onto the counter as you tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He gestures around the kitchen. “It’s nice, you know, being able to watch you make something.”

Though you’re looking down at the cookie, he sees the smile splitting your lips open. Art leans forward and swipes the icing from the counter with his index finger before popping it into his mouth. He smiles at you around his finger, and you flush as warmth spreads throughout your body.

Ѽ

“Nancy,” you start. “I just finished setting up this entire table. I am not moving all of this again.” You gesture to the spread of homemade cookies, pumpkin shaped cake pops, and pretzel rods dipped and drizzled in orange, black, and purple icing and sprinkles. The cookies themselves were a pain to arrange. You wanted there to be an even number of skull and jack-o’-lantern shaped sugar cookies on each platter. And each cookie needed to be facing forward. You didn’t think you had the patience for some snaggletoothed kid to ask what’s this? And plant their finger right on the cookie only to decide they hate pumpkins and leave it there. 

“Okay!” She says defensively. “I just wonder if it’s such a good idea for the sweets table to be so close to the bouncy house. I wouldn’t want the kids to get sick.”

She turns to assess the giant inflated pumpkin. “I’d say they probably need a good 50 feet to walk and let the cookies settle before they start jumping up and down…don’t you think?”

You stare back blankly at the woman. “You just had me move because you said the smell of the petting zoo might ruin appetites.”

“And it could!” She whips her head back around at you, her blonde bob slapping the side of her face. “Those baby goats are cute, but they don’t smell great hon!”

You fold your arms.

“Alright.” Nancy raises a hand with a shake of her bobble head. “We won’t move,” she relents, “but could you maybe just tell each kid to eat their treats at the table, you know just to make sure they stand around for a couple of minutes before running to the bouncy castle?”

You start to tell her that it’ll be hard to control what a bunch of excited, elementary schoolers do after they get some sugar in them, but decide it’s not worth arguing with her. You glance over at her husband, Frank, who has set out his red and black folding chair next to the drink cooler. She’d instructed him to make sure each kid grabbed one drink at a time because “lord knows we’ll be picking up half full juice boxes all night.” Without so much as a glance, he’d mumbled a well versed “yes honey” and sat in his chair, staring into the distance and scratching his chest.

You decide to take a page out of Frank’s book.

“Sure, Nancy.”

Ѽ

Your table proves to be a popular one. You’re not even halfway through the festival, and most of your cake pops are gone, and the sugar cookies are depleting by the minute. You blame Art for being such a distraction that you didn’t think to bake more cookies just in case. Once he’s done with face painting duty, you plan on letting him have it.

You’re counting how many jack-o’-lantern  cookies are left on the platters when a voice interrupts you.

“I always did love your baking.”

“Chris? What are you doing here?”

Your ex husband is standing in front of you, hands in his pockets as he smiles down at your spread of goodies.

He makes his way over to your side of the table. “My boy practically begged me to come, so of course I had to show up.”

You turn and purse your lips. “Well I hadn’t heard from you so I assumed you weren’t coming. They took your name off the list at the PTA meeting.”

“Dad!”

You look over to see your son barreling towards his father. He laughs reaching out to haul him up into the air. His little pirate hat goes crooked on his head. “You came!”

“Yeah, man, I told you I would!”

They fall into their own conversation as you help serve treats to some other kids that have wandered to the table. Despite your feelings about Chris, you can’t help but smile at the sound of Kaleb’s giggles. You’re glad that his dad’s presence brings him so much joy. You remember a time when you too felt that unyielding happiness around him. That flutter in your belly and the warmth in your chest that can only be characterized as pure, genuine fondness. God, you were so fond of him.

At the time, you thought you could never experience anything better than that. It’s why you agreed to marry him. And why you also agreed to stopping your birth control. Knowing he wanted to start a family with you made you love him even more, because to have a child with someone is to irrevocably tie yourself to that person. Being loved by Chris was your point of reference for so long.

But that was before.

Before he decided you weren’t enough for him, before he decided to be withholding, before he made you feel unlovable. It turns out that having a child with someone isn’t the symbol of unconditional love that you’d believed it was. Once you had removed the rose tinted glasses, you were able to see that love isn’t something that’s promised to you. Even if someone makes that promise to you, the love itself may not endure. You’re not sure how much control Chris really had when it came to loving you. You’re still figuring out what love entails when you’re not with him.

Now, you just hope that Kaleb will never learn what it’s like to not be loved by his father. That he’ll never have to vie for his affections nor his attention. That he will always feel held by his love and not stifled by it.

You feel something poke your hip, jolting you from your thoughts. It’s Kaleb, pressing his plastic pirate’s hook into your side to get your attention. You grab the hook in your hand, reminding him to be mindful of the point. He offers you a sheepish, snaggletoothed smile. “Sorry.”

You sigh and run your hands over his curls before gently tugging his ear. It’s a habitual motion that began when he was a toddler. He could be a little rambunctious, running around the house in nothing but a pull-up to avoid bedtime. When you’d finally catch him, you would ruffle his hair and gently pinch his little ears, calling him a silly monkey. He would erupt into fits of giggles before breaking away again making “ooh-ooh ah-ah” sounds.

Kaleb takes his arm behind his back in an effort to control his hook. “Dad said I can go with him tonight!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! Said once this is over we can go have some real fun!”

Chris laughs, patting Kaleb’s shoulder.

“What does that mean? Real fun?” You raise an eyebrow at your ex.

“Oh Christ! I’m just gonna take him to get some ice cream or something,” he says.

“I’m just trying to make sure my son doesn’t pick up any of your…” you look over him from head to toe, “… bad habits.”

He rolls his eyes.

“But yeah, that’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you have the booster seat?”

“Yeah, and it’s the perfect height for him to see the girls at the strip club tonight,” he cracks a smile like it’s the funniest thing ever.

Kaleb catches sight of a classmate and almost knocks his dad over in his haste to run to them. Chris shouts “Be careful!” before glancing over at you and chuckling.

You curl your lip in disgust before turning toward the couple approaching your table and offering them a bright smile. You can feel Chris’ eyes on you as you move to serve them. Once they’ve gone, you turn to him.

“Is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

He chuckles. “How do you know I didn’t want some of your cookies?”

“Okay, well what are you getting?” You ask impatiently.

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he runs his thumb over his bottom lip and smirks, “You look really good.”

Your stomach twists.

“I miss you.” He searches your face. “You know that?”

You scoff. “No you don’t,” you say definitively before turning away from him.

You then notice that Art is making his way over to your table. He’s wearing the same black and orange “fall fest committee” shirt that you are, but his figure fills it out much better than you can. His jeans are hanging effortlessly on his hips, and you think that if he hadn’t stuck with tennis all those years, modeling would’ve been a great second option.

Your field of vision gets cut off by your mosquito of an ex husband. You literally swat at him to move away, but he’s still smiling at you.

“Please just get whatever you’re gonna get and leave me alone.”

He reaches for you. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

You yank your arm out of his reach, sending him a warning glare.

He ignores the warning, stepping closer to you to lean down near your ear. “You know every time I come pick up Kaleb, I just think, God, what will it take for me to get those pretty legs open again?”

A loud smack resounds as his head snaps to the side. You’re gritting your teeth. “Fuck you.”

He holds his cheek from where you’ve smacked him, a tiny smirk etched onto his face.

You point your finger at him. “How dare you? How dare you come to me with this shit! You have a fucking fiancée!” Your hands have started to tremble as your anger rises. “I mean, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?? You don’t get to treat me the way you did then come here saying shit like that!”

You don’t realize that Art has been standing there. He sees your trembling hands and glassy eyes and subtly positions himself between the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re still glaring at your ex as if daring him to say something else.

Like the coward he is, Chris lowers his voice like he’s talking to a rabid animal. He tells you that you need to calm down before turning to Art. “Yeah, man, everything’s fine.” It’s just like him to make it seem like you’re the one who’s unhinged in the company of outsiders.

Thankfully, Art isn’t just some person.

He fully stands between the two of you, blocking you from Chris’ sight. You hear him say, “yeah well it doesn’t seem like it, man.” The muscles in his back are tense and his shoulders are square.

Chris sounds like he’s about to say something, but Art doesn’t let him finish. “I think you should leave her alone.”

You swallow and look down at your shaky hands willing them to be still.

Chris makes a move to step around Art. His jaw is clenched tight. “Respectfully, I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Art lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t a request,” he says.

A second or two passes by as the two men stare at each other. Chris squints at Art, throws a glance around at you before stepping back with a laugh. He shakes his head assessing the way Art has planted himself in front of you. His eyes drop to where you’re fisting the end of Art’s t-shirt in an attempt to calm your nerves. He mumbles something about not being surprised but continues his retreat. “I’ll drop Kaleb off Sunday night,” he announces over his shoulder.

Once he’s gone, Art turns to you, rubbing his palms down your arms. “Hey,” he bends down to look you in your eyes. “You’re okay.”

It only makes your lip tremble more, the anger from earlier dissipating as something else takes over. Art tells you he’ll be right back. You bring your arms over your chest as your breathing gets heavier. The ruckus in the air is starting to feel suffocating. Your ears are ringing and you begin to feel tingling in your cheeks.

When Art comes back, he has Nancy’s husband, Frank, in tow. He tells him something, but you can’t hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. You’re gasping for air. You barely pick up Art’s voice saying “come with me.” You let him take your hand and lead you out of the chaos.

Ѽ

The sound of Art’s car door shutting makes you realize that your face has stopped tingling. You blink as your breathing returns to normal and the static-like ringing in your ears fades away. You rub your palms over your fabric covered thighs and take one big breath before exhaling. Something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance to your left. Art is sitting in the driver’s seat, but most of his upper body is facing you. His soft eyes watch you with a patience that makes you want to cry all over again. You reach for him.

Art immediately pulls you to him, letting you settle in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to your head.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Baby,” he runs a hand over your back.

“No, it was pathetic. I can’t believe I let him get under my skin like that.”

“It was a panic attack. It’s not your fault,” Art murmurs into your hair. “And that’s exactly why he did that. He wanted to get a reaction out of you. Don’t blame yourself.”

You lift your head up to look at him. You search his face. All you find is sincerity.

You brush your thumb over the skin behind his ear and lean in. Your noses gently bump against one another before you’re pressing your lips to his. It’s soft, slow, and deliberate. Art places his palm flat against the small of your back as he returns the kiss with equal tenderness. Through your lips and your tongue, you try to tell Art everything you aren’t able to say with your voice. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling you the exact same thing back.

When you bring your hips down to roll against him, Art tells you “we don’t have to.” It’s your turn to tell him that you want this.

You move to the backseat. He peppers quick kisses over you every now and then as you both work to get each other’s pants down. It would probably be quicker to simply take them off one at a time, but you two aren’t thinking properly. Your head is swimming from how bad you need him right now. Once you’ve gotten your jeans off, and Art’s are to his knees, he’s sitting back against the black leather, pulling you with him.

You release a small whimper when his wet mouth attaches to your throat. His forehead knocks against your shoulder as you reach your hands under his shirt. “Off. Please.” He lets out a soft grunt as he complies with your request.

Before he can fully toss the committee shirt to the side, you’re running your hands over his chest. You stop at his nipples, letting your thumb roll over the small buds. Despite his attempt to hold it in, Art moans when you lean down and swirl your tongue around his nipple. It makes his cock jump.

You begin to move against his hard member, seeking out the friction of him bumping against your clit. Art gets his tongue back into your mouth as he reaches under your shirt, pinching your nipples. His lips smack against yours as he brings his hands around to your back. He lets them trace down your spine until they meet the band of your underwear.

Art dips both hands into your panties and smoothes his palms over your cheeks. He grips your ass as he guides you to rock against him. You moan into his mouth before you lift your hips to allow him room to pull his underwear down his thighs.

His dick slaps against his abdomen.

Your mouth waters and your stomach clenches in anticipation. You reach for him, and Art lets you take him in your hand, pumping him one, two, three times before he’s greedily grabbing your hips. He promptly hooks his thumb in the seat of your panties. He uses the leverage to pull them to the side, and you guide his tip to rub against your sticky folds. You moan as you drag it upwards to which Art starts rutting his head against your clit.

Without warning, you press Art’s tip to your opening. He hisses when you start to sink down onto him. With him fully buried in your cunt, you let out a sigh. He wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to his chest. You two share a kiss as he begins shallowly thrusting into you.

Ѽ

After the both of you have finished, Art doesn’t pull out right away. He keeps you there for a moment telling you he just wants to feel you for a little bit more. Naturally, you don’t protest. The two of you sit within the fogged windows of his car in blissful silence as he lazily strokes your back.

Unfortunately, the shrill ringing of your cellphone punctures that silence.

It’s Nancy.

She asks where you’ve disappeared to, then doesn’t let you respond as she tells you that Frank is at your table which is now empty. They’re going to start cleaning up in about 45 minutes.

When you rejoin the festival, you and Art spot your kids and their friends comparing their various prizes and candy. Standing off to the side is Tashi. She sends you a smile when she notices you. Your stomach drops.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: As always, let me know what you think <3 my asks are open!

[norrizzandpia]

Based off of the song bags by Clairo. Lando and y/n are more than friends but less than bf/gf. Super flirty and touchy always. Both in love w the other but don’t want to confess in case the other doesn’t feel the same way. Ending however you want!

I LOVE THIS SONG

Can You See Me Using Everything to Hold back? (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n have always been as close as can be, but unresolved and disregarded feelings threaten everything they thought they once knew.

Warnings: language, angsty but HAPPY ENDING, mentions about Lando’s weight

“Happy birthday to my best friend!” Lando cheered as he let his arm rest firmly on Y/n’s face, a quick kiss to her cheek.

The girl smiled through it. It was her birthday after all, right? No crying this time around.

However, Lando was making that promise to herself extremely hard. The soft fingers dancing along her back, the hugs where he would breathe her perfume in, and the glow to his eyes were just a few of the instances where Y/n felt like keeling over and vomiting all over the pristine marble flooring of the hotel Lando had rented out extravagantly for her. Her glossy eyes, some thought, were just a mixture of the alcohol and the exhaustion of partying until dawn.

Truly, she was grateful for what he had done for her. The surprise party with all her closest friends made it known how much Lando really listened to her. The wish to not spend her day with crowds of people who knew only the shell of her being had been accomplished as she looked on at the room in front of her. Adorned in each corner were people who knew almost exactly what it would be like to live in her skin… and then there was Lando.

Lando, her best friend, knew more than just living in her skin. He knew more than anyone in the room, they both knew that. Nobody knew why she had that random scar on her stomach or why hated blueberries, but he did. Random facts about her that only God would be able to answer, he knew.

…Not to say Lando was God.

Nevertheless, the point was made in her brain. She loved the people here, but she adored Lando. Maybe too much for friends, but, again, no crying on her birthday.

“When everyone leaves and you open your presents, open mine first?” Lando whispered in her ear. Chills down her spine and a flush to her cheeks are not from the drop in the AC.

She turned to him, their faces inches apart as her champagne sloshed over the edge of her glass. Her hair landed over her shoulder, which almost brought Lando to his knees. Her gorgeous hair, beautiful dress, and glowy makeup enhanced every bit of pretty Y/n had to offer. He was breathless at the sight of her. Smiling softly, Y/n tilted her head, “Are you not staying?”

He shook his head and her heart sank, “I want you to open your gift alone. Plus, I have an early flight tomorrow.”

She checked her watch, “Lando, it’s almost 4 AM. What time’s your flight?”

His head dipped down to stare at his shoes, “7 AM.”

Her mouth fell open, “Lando!” She smacked his shoulder as she scolded him, “Why the hell are you here and not sleeping?!”

He pulled her into him, his breath fanning over her nose, “Because I want to celebrate my favorite person.”

She softened, “Fine, I’ll let you get away with it this time.”

—

Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time. I can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine. Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse; walkin’ out the door with your bags.

The small grouping of gifts sat next to Y/n on her apartment floor, completely alone without the company she craved. As he asked, she fished out the small box from the stack. She shook it around for a moment, a small clanging meeting her ears. Finally deciding the package could be fragile, she unwrapped it.

TWO YEARS BEFORE

“Can we please go in here, Y/n?” Lando pleaded with the girl as they stood on the street, his hand in hers as he pulled her one way. She rolled her eyes at him, “Lando, what are you buying at Van Cleef?”

He stuck his hip out while he let his bottom lip do the same, his usual ‘my way or the highway’ stance. She giggled before relenting, “Fine, but when we walk out empty handed and all the employees give us dirty looks, don’t come crying to me.”

He smiled at her before tugging her through the doors. Immediately, a woman approached them as she began welcoming them to the store. “If you need any help, just let us know.” She smiled and Lando nodded.

When they were alone, he turned to Y/n. She saw that mischievous look from miles away, “Look around, Y/n. Pick out your favorite thing.”

Her eyebrows raised, “You’re not buying me anything, Norris. Especially from Van Cleef.”

Lando’s look challenged her, “Uh huh, for sure.”

Deciding not to argue, Y/n let go of his grasp and let herself wander. Almost to the end of the store, nothing stood out to her. Everything was either quite popular and not something rather unique or not her taste and Lando was beginning to tell. Seemingly quite disappointed in her sudden lack of interest in Van Cleef Jewelry, his face lit up when she suddenly stopped at something.

A little gold necklace laid before with the quaintest red heart charm and there was nothing she loved more. Her eyes sparkled and her fingers ran over it on the glass. Lando loved seeing her fall in love with something beautiful. It paralleled something in his life.

“Like that one?” He whispered, his hands coming up to her waist as his thumbs began rubbing softly.

She twisted her head, “If I say ‘yes’, you can’t buy it for me.”

Lando pouted, “Why not?”

She sighed, “Because, Lan, it’s 2,000 euros. That’s way too much to spend on me.”

“2,000 euros is not enough.” He murmured and she chuckled. Suddenly, his hand tapped on the glass and he moved closer to her, “Tell you what, I won’t buy it for you right now, but I do get to buy it for you at some point.”

“What’s the difference from buying it now to buying it later?” She questioned and Lando’s eyes held hers.

“When I buy and give this to you, whether it’s a month from now or ten years from now, it’ll be my sign to you that I will never let you go. When this necklace ends up in your hands because of me know it is my tangible way of telling you that there is not a day I wish to go by without you.” He gazed upon her face in preparation for any kind of reaction. What he was met with was a slow smile that had his heart beating too fast.

She kissed his cheek, “I think I could get on board with that, Norris.”

PRESENT

On top of the Van Cleef box was a small, folded paper. Y/n let it unravel in her hands and staring back at her was Lando’s messy scribbling, however she could tell he had tried to make it nice.

My love letter to you. You’re better at words than I am. I know you’ll remember. Cheers and a happy birthday to everything you are and everything you will become. I know it’ll be great. You’re meant for something out of this world, Y/n. - L

A small tear ran down her face. She already knew what laid beneath all the ribbon. Her favorite heart necklace rested in her hands as she tried to take it all in. Her hands shook and her brain short circuited.

The only thing she could seem to remember were his words, “it is my tangible way of telling you that there is not a day I wish to go by without you.”

—

Lando cursed quietly to himself when his long awaited slumber had been stolen from him at the hands of his phone. Beside him, the device rang and rang annoyingly until his grogginess finally wore off enough for him to grab it.

Max, on the other side of the table, gave him a death stare. He had fully been asleep and any person knows that waking Max from any type of slumber is catastrophic.

Lando just smiled and shrugged at his best friend before answering the phone.

Crying is all he heard.

Pulling back the phone, he clocked Y/n’s contact. His mind raced. What had happened to her? He had watched her walk through her door the night before and lock it before leaving to get his luggage from his place. There was no time for her to be hurt. She was with him the entire night.

“What’s going on? I’ll kill them, Y/n.” That got Max’s attention.

”No,” She choked out before taking a breath, “It’s you. The necklace. It’s so sweet.”

“Oh,” Lando chuckled and Max continued to eye him weirdly.

“This is so much, Lan. I don’t even- Thank you. I thought you would forget or maybe never end up buying it.” She said, still breathing deeply through her past tears.

At the insinuation, Lando became rather confused, “I was always going to end up feeling this way Y/n. It was only a matter of time. It’s not hard to always want you around. You’re you.”

She was quiet for a moment, “The note, Lan. You say you’re bad at words, but that was perfect.”

He sighed dramatically, “Nothing will ever be as perfect as you. Crazy you don’t understand that yet.”

She smiled, “Still.”

He just shook his head silently and prayed that somewhere something, anything would give him the strength to be just friends with her. “Happy birthday, Y/n. I meant everything I said in that note.”

“Thank you, Lan.” A beat passed, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your flight. Be safe, please.”

He nodded, “Of course. Bye, Y/n. Love you.”

Her heart thumped in her chest. It always did when he said that. She whispered, “Love you too. Bye.”

Max sat with his arms crossed and his eyes trained on Lando. “What was that about?” He asked, although he had a small feeling he knew all too well what had just happened.

Lando coyly grinned, “Her present.”

“Which was what?”

Lando bit his lip, “That Van Cleef heart necklace I told you about like two years ago.”

Max stayed quiet for a moment, keeping his gaze on his best friend, before cocking his head. “Let me get this straight - you bought your best friend, who’s a woman, a Van Cleef necklace so she would know you never wanted to live without her. You got her this for her birthday as well?”

Lando just stared at him.

Max laughed, “Right. So, do you think she knows how in love you are with her now?”

“I hope not.” Lando rolled his eyes and swatted his hand in Max’s direction.

The man huffed, “Lando, sometimes you make me want to claw my eyes out with how stubborn you are.”

“I refuse to put my friendship with someone I cherish in jeopardy for some feelings I have that will surely go away soon.” Lando declared, his tone strong and direct.

But, there was no fooling Max.

“You do realize you just bought her a Van Cleef necklace, right?”

—

A triple-header was never easy. Especially when Y/n wasn’t with him for any of the races. Lando stared longingly at a picture of the two of them in London with chocolate smeared all over their faces, a cup of strawberries in Lando’s hand. They had been out wandering the city with a group of their friends that day and had shoved their faces with the most delicious food that Lando had gained so much weight, Jon had scolded him when he got back. Nonetheless, he adored the memories that came from that day. Which included this picture. Y/n was laughing and he was holding onto her by the waist, smiling at her widely. Lando never let her know this image existed solely because of how obvious his love for her is in it. His eyes twinkle and random dimples he never knew existed pop out and you can practically hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

It was too much for his liking.

In moments like these, when the yearning for her got too strong, Lando likes to think the days of them being friends are over. That they’re more than friends, soulmates or whatever his romantic mind would like to call it. It helps the pain of only being hers secretly subside.

“Are you gonna keep drooling at your phone like that or are you gonna call Y/n?” Oscar chuckled. The fact that the man couldn’t even see his phone yet knew he was looking at Y/n made Lando scream internally. He really needed to be better at not giving away too much.

Lando rolled his eyes, but his thumb was already pressing the call button. His phone rang as he put it up to his ear and Oscar tried to keep his smile unknown. Tried.

“Lando!” Y/n yelped. He could hear the grin in her voice.

He could feel the grin on his face, “Hi, Y/n.”

“What’s going on? What do you need?” She blabbered.

Lando’s eyes shot to Oscar, who was eavesdropping so obviously, and shuffled his body around to gain some sort of privacy. His head tucked down, he whispered, “I miss you.”

Y/n stopped her movements, putting down the yogurt she had been trying to put away. She smiled, “I miss you too.”

“Come here.” He begged, “Please.”

She sighed, “You know I can’t. I’m too busy here.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, Lan” She whispered, guilt eating at her.

“I’m not mad… or disappointed at you. I just…” I love you.

“I’ll be fine, Y/n. I’ll see you when I come back.”

—

Tell you how I felt, sugar coated melting in your mouth. Pardon my emotions, I should probably keep it all to myself. Know you’d make fun of me.

Drunk was not what Lando should be after begging Y/n to come, practically declaring how much he wanted her, and getting denied. Yet, here he was with tequila sloshing over his glass as he tried to comprehend the words coming out of this woman’s mouth. She was standing in front of him, but all he could focus on was the fact that her hair wasn’t the same as Y/n’s and she didn’t smell the same.

Frustrated, he apologized, albeit slurred, to the woman and left her in the middle of the club. His vision was blurred slightly as he fell outside, the cold air going to his head.

Another call to the girl he’s always wanted. He counted that as two today and mentally scolded himself for being so obvious. At this point, everything he did was obvious. At this point, he couldn’t be just friends.

Y/n picked up, the grogginess in her voice evident. “Lando? Is everything okay? It’s 4 AM.”

“Y/n,” She could almost smell the alcohol on his breath, “I’m sick and tired of this.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Lando, you’re wasted.”

He shushed her before continuing, “Let me finish. I cannot do this with you anymore. It’s killing me.”

“You can’t do what with me anymore?”

“I can’t… I can’t…” Even in his drunken state, he knew it was a bad idea. He knew what was truly at stake. She was at stake. He just couldn’t ever risk that.

“Nevermind. I’m just really…” He tried to finish his sentence. Drunk? Yes. Upset? Yes. Angry? Yes. Annoyed? Yes. It was everything and nothing at the exact same time.

Y/n chuckled, “Drunk, I know. Don’t worry, Lan. You’ll just feel a little sick tomorrow morning.”

She hung up the phone, the last moments of it all being her laughing. His hands pulled at his hair and he couldn’t believe how close he had come to losing it all.

And how she had just laughed.

—

Can you see me? I’m waiting for the right time. I can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine. Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse; walkin’ out the door with your bags.

After his disastrous call, Lando went completely silent on Y/n. To the point that she dropped everything she was doing, at work and in her personal life, to go see him, to make sure he wasn’t dead.

When she showed up to his hotel, the concierge told her that seeing him wouldn’t be possible, no matter how close she said they were. Back and forth with the employee ended when Oscar walked through the lobby, Y/n calling out to him so loudly it earned her a few stares.

He looked at her for a moment, trying to decipher if what he was seeing was real, until concluding the woman screaming at him was in fact Lando’s best friend and the girl he had been trying to hide from all week.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, completely baffled, when he told the front desk she was with him.

Y/n huffed, “Lando’s not answering me and the last time I heard from him, he was absolutely shit faced. I’m worried, so I came to check on him.”

“So, one phone call and a few days without contact and you’re suddenly showing up halfway across the world to check up on him?” Oscar eyed her, his gaze pleading with her to just end this dance between her and Lando.

She coughed, “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” He smirked, “Well, Lando’s on the second floor in room 28. I think he’s there now if you want to go see him. He’s completely fine by the way. You could’ve just called me to ask. You also could’ve called Max… or Jon… or Andrea… or literally anyone because I know you have all their numbers.”

She blushed, “Stop looking at me like that, Piastri.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not looking at you like anything, Y/l/n. I know nothing.” He shook his head and walked away.

Second floor. Room 28.

—

“Can I just be honest?” She blurted out when Lando opened the door. He stood motionlessly, looking her up and down as if he was trying to will her into existence.

“Y/n?” She pushed past him and turned around in a fury.

“Why the fuck have you been dodging me? What the fuck, Lando? You call me wasted and then ghost me for days on end. Did you genuinely think through anything?” She scoffed.

Lando shrugged, “I couldn’t talk to you.”

“Why?”

He couldn’t look at her, “Because.”

She groaned, “Jesus Christ, Lando, again with all the vagueness! Can you tell me anything? What’s going on?”

His head snapped to hers and he let his eyes warn her own. Warn her not to push this topic, not to make him say what he’s worked so hard to keep down. But, when it came to him and his lack of vulnerability, Y/n knew no bounds.

She sat down on the bed, knowing the aggressive approach was never the right call. She looked down and then up at him, “Please just tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t, Y/n.” He sat down next to her, taking her hands in his. Everything in him was screeching. He felt like he was being ripped apart by the two, conflicted sides in him. One wanted him so heavily to end the hell of being just her friend by telling her how he felt and the other willed him to remember the privilege of being in her presence, to not fuck that up.

She could see it as well, the quiet war in his mind. In trying to comfort him, running her hand on his back, she triggered him. He sprung from the bed, gaining as much distance from her and letting his head fall in his hands.

“Stop.” He pleaded, “You need to leave, Y/n.”

Her eyes watered, “Why? I don’t understand why you’re pushing me away.”

The waver in her voice made him grip the side table next to him. If he couldn’t hold on mentally, maybe he could physically.

But, no. One look at her defeated face made him lose all composure. And one small whisper of hers, “Please let me in.” became too much.

“I’ve always been so in love with you.” He breathed out. A relief fell over him, a truth that had been eating at him finally said.

Y/n froze, her eyes on her hands in her lap. When she gathered the courage to look up at him, she found the shell of a man.

In thinking he had let go of a truth, he remembered the risk that had been holding him back all this time. Gone was the relief and all that was left was pure terror at what he had just done.

She breathed, “You know when I got here, Oscar looked at me and almost mocked me for the reasons as to why I had come. He told me I had come here because of one drunk call and a few days of no contact. And, you know, I was looking at this necklace the other day,” She touched it as it laid across her neck, “and it almost felt like some sort of declaration of love. I thought I was insane, thinking you would see me that way, but I think it made me more inclined to do my own declaration of love. The whole grand gesture thing was never for me, but I think I’ve found myself there, no? I think this is my declaration of love.”

Lando gapped at her, “What are you saying?”

She smiled, “If you thought I didn’t love you too, then we were both dumb.”

He breathed out then laughed, falling next to her on the bed. She let her hand rest on his next to her and squeezed tightly.

“It sucks we waited so long, but at least it ended in neither of us walking out.” She murmured.

He sat up, letting his arms wrap around her waist, “I was never gonna walk out.”

“Neither was I.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer x Reader - Sleep Talking (NSFW)

Sleeping in the same bed as Lucifer took some getting used to, to say the least

Not that you didn't love it, the act gave you a feeling of comfort you never had before

But his sleeping habits were a bit strange, but adorable nonetheless

This man would cling to you all throughout the night, gripping any part of you he could

You didn't mind, you liked being as close to him as possible, and cuddling with him was one of your favorite things

Sometimes Lucifer had a lot of trouble sleeping and stay awake far longer than he should

You would catch him humming to himself as he played with your hair

You weren't going to tell him he'd woken you up, it's not like you couldn't spend all day catching up on some sleep; plus it made your heart flutter when he was so tender with you

But the most consistent thing that Lucifer would do is talk in his sleep

Typically you couldn't make out anything he was saying, it was mostly just mumbles and random small noises

Sometimes he would toss and turn while he would talk; you always wondered what he could be dreaming about

But one night, you heard him call your name, clear as day

"Lucifer?" you asked as you turned to face him

But when you looked over, his eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling at an even pace; he was still asleep

His body twitched slightly as he continued to call out your name but you noticed his tone had gotten a little more...sensual

Small moans mixed in with your name, little gasps of air as his head began to shift back and forth; a few obscenities found their way into his speech

"F-Fuck...oh my God...s-shit..." he all but whispered

Oh...OH you thought to yourself; you think you knew what was happening but you wanted to make sure just in case

Gently you pulled back the covers and your suspicions were proven correct; you could make out a very clear outline of his cock pushing through his briefs with a very prominent wet spot near the tip

He was having a wet dream about you

You couldn't help but blush at the thought; what you wouldn't give to be inside his head right now

But why would you want that when you could make it a reality

You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently as not to startle him awake "Lucifer, honey, wake up."

Slowly his eyes peeled open; he looked up at your reddened face and smiled

"Love, what's wrong? Is something the matter?"

"You uhh, you were talking in your sleep again."

"Oh. Oh dear, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"Kind of...you called out my name a few times."

"I did?"

You chuckled lightly and nodded, "I'm guessing it was a good dream based on...that."

You pointed to his crotch where he finally noticed his hard on; Lucifer's face immediately flushed yellow

"O-Oh, yeah I uhh...I'm sorry, that's...kind of embarrassing."

You cut him off when your hand began to trail down his stomach and stopped at the hem of his shorts; Lucifer gulped

"Why don't you tell me what you were dreaming about, Lucifer~"

You hand slipped past the band and gingerly began stroking his cock that was now at full mast

"Sweetheart, p-please I-HNNGG..." Lucifer gripped the sheets below him as you continued to run your hand up and down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace

"If you tell me, maybe I can make your dream come true. Would you like that?"

Lucifer's head shook furiously as he brought one of his hands to your entrance, wanting to make you feel as good as you were making him

"Y-You...fuck...you were on top of me...riding me..." Lucifer breath hitched as your hand begam to move faster against him.

He worked his fingers inside you easily, feeling how slick you already were just from his touches

You smiled wickedly at him, "Then lay down and let me take care of you, baby.~"

You spent no time at all climbing on top of your lover and sinking yourself down on his aching cock

Your moans filled the once quiet room as you began to lift your hips and sink back down on him; slowly at first but quickening with every movement

Lucifer hands flew to your hips as he tried to ground himself, his nails digging into your supple flesh

"H-How's this feel, Luci, just l-like your dream?~"

"N-No, even better...s-so much better, darling. You're...s-shit...you're perfect..."

Lucifer helped you along when you felt your legs getting tired, lifting you up and and slamming you back down on his length with ease

Not even a minute passed before you cried out in ecstasy, reaching your orgasms together; his cum painting your gummy walls white while you clenched around his thick cock

You collapsed on top of him, both of your breathing ragged and heavy

"M-Maybe I should just fall asleep like this, with you still inside me" you teased, "just in case you have any more dreams tonight.~"

Lucifer smiled and wrapped his arms around you. "I would love nothing more, my angel.~"

[tragedy-of-commons]

fuck it we ball. hsr prom date hcs because i am on something different tonight. based on my very limited experience.

dan heng

he's painfully awkward. like you expected it when you asked him to be your date but it's even worse than you predicted...

he DID pick you up and he WAS almost an hour early, causing you to rush down the stairs and almost trip (not very magical-teen-coming-of-age-moment-like of you). that kind of lightened the mood though.

also painfully sweet! upon your arrival he gives you a boutonniere/corsage that matches your outfit which he had managed to keep hidden. his sweaty palms were not just because he was nervous, then...

march helped him pick it out, he admits with red-tipped ears. that makes sense, because she was suspiciously interested in what you were wearing to the function.

but he did also forget to pick out one for him. oops.

during the slow dance bit, his hands are sweaty. you don't care because your eyes lock and there's the fuzziness curling in your gut that plagues you whenever you're with dan heng.

overall, a good experience! polite and always willing to humor your whims, even if he's a little stiff.

and if you peck him on the cheek after he walks you back to your doorstep, well, that's alright with him. more than alright.

black swan

life of the party. not in a screaming-getting-way-too-into-the-music kinda way, but in the way that everyone wants a sliver of her attention. she's always relaxed, interesting to talk to, and dreamy to boot! it wouldn't be any different at prom.

but black swan, above all else, wants to just... spend time with you. anyone that wants to chat can wait until later, when she's not watching you stuff snacks into your pockets with a fond look in her faraway eyes.

to commemorate the occasion, you're cajoled into the photobooth where you both hold up props and make funny faces for the camera. you know black swan doesn't cherish much above memories, even if they're immortalized in a gag reel where you're clad in silly-straw glasses and her in a purple mustache.

but in the last photo, right before the camera flashes, she sneaks a kiss on your cheek. your eyes are blown wide in surprise in the picture and that's her favorite part!

surprisingly adept at dancing. depending on your taste, she will either dip you dramatically and take the lead, or fall into your steps and try to make you feel more comfortable if you're nervous.

cherishes any memento from the event. she does the teasing, though, so don't get any ideas about poking fun at her for being sappy.

a great date, i dare say.

aventurine

it's a given that both of you look the best. dressed to the nines.

the whole thing is a bit sensationalized, though. mostly because he's used to everything being treated like a spectacle, aventurine tries his best (while looking like he isn't trying at all) to give you a good time.

his saving grace is that... he's here with you. everything is more enjoyable this way, even the distastefully loud music matches the pulse in his ears when he looks at y💥💥

his favorite part of the event, surprisingly, is when you ask him to ditch with you early. makes a little joke like "wow, are you having that bad of a time with me?" but there's a bit of weight behind it that you can sense. anyway, you answer by rolling your eyes and pulling him outside.

away from the noise, pretenses drop and You Hold His Hand, telling him that any time with him is a good time. but this is infinitely better, even if you're both just stood in the parking lot.

you both decide to stay a little longer. at the end of the night, the principal gets into one of those dunking booths for the children to throw balls at to get them dunked in water. aventurine bets you a date that he'll hit the target.

you know he'll win (his luck kind of scares you), so of course you take him up on that wager, very excited to lose. it's very sweet.

lol he does hit the target

you both are prom celebrities for the rest of the night with another date set in stone a week from now!

kafka

imo she would make the best date out of everyone on this list.

mostly because any outing with kafka is almost cataclysmic in its impact... starting when she pops over at your place to help you get ready! surprise!

zips you up/adjusts your lapels/make sure your makeup looks good/whatever is part of this whole routine for you. she does so while humming a dulcet tune. she wants to be involved with every aspect of your pivotal prom experience tbh. keen on making memories like black swan is, but the effort is unconscious.

also. since blade has his driver's license, she basically bribed him into being your chauffeur for the night. i think that'd be a fun detail.

if you suck at dancing, never fear, because she also isn't very good (or so she says, but she's kafka, so of course she makes it work).

is not opposed to silly photobooth pics but she'd rather have someone take a candid of you both together by persuading them nicely - more her speed.

her eyes are ENCHANTING in that dim lighting... i just know... you get so distracted that you trip over her feet. silver wolf, the resident DJ that the school hired, sees and laughs.

has that tattered jacket thrown over whatever she decides to wear. she drapes it over you if you get cold due to the weather or temperature inside of the building.