#it’s where he puts his bedazzlements

[nat1volition]

emo dad

[void-my-warranty]

Fem reader x Kyle Garrick

If you think third-wheeling is bad, you should try third wheeling for your sister.

Yep, your younger sister, currently outpacing you in margaritas at a booth in Chili’s, while her big scary husband smiles at her over the rim of his glass. He knows how to pace himself — he’s your designated driver, after all — but he seems to be enjoying the freedom of your parents watching their little one for a night out.

Well, aside from habitually making your sister check her phone every five minutes, in case something goes wrong.

“Just give it to him,” you finally suggest with a laugh, eyeing the way he keeps one fingertip on the bedazzled edge of the phone case. “Bad case of the first time parent.”

Simon makes an annoyed grumble, but sure enough the sparkly phone gets pushed to his side of the table.

You do like him. Was he easy to get used to? No. Does his job allow for a lot of support for his family? Also no. But he has a safeness about him that you understand. And damn is he tall.

Your sister appears to be hitting that sweet spot of lowered inhibitions and horniness, because she thinks she’s being way more subtle than she is while flirting with her husband. You pretend you don’t notice, staring absently at the rafters when the conversation lags, burying yourself in another sip of alcohol when eyes get too bedroomy.

It makes you miserable, if you’re being honest.

Not that your sister can’t have herself a very nice, reliable, tree of a man to call her own, it’s just… She made it look so easy. Bat her eyelashes a few times at the scariest guy in the room, and bam, married with kids. Meanwhile you’re lonely enough to be third wheeling on a Friday night, with only your empty bed to look forward to, and the daily choice of situationship or isolation.

“We’ll be right back, need to pee.”

You focus your gaze back on your two companions, their sleep deprived faces unusually glowing with… aww, fuck. They’re gonna go fuck in the bathroom.

Of course they are.

So now, not only are you third wheeling, but you’re getting stood up while third wheeling. Fucking great.

As soon as you’ve lost their backs in the crowd, someone’s phone starts to ring on the other side of the booth divider. You ignore it, glowering into the dregs of your margarita and wishing you’d gotten a lot more drunk a lot faster. You may as well chug the rest of your sister’s while she’s gone, and maybe you’ll make it to the numb phase faster.

As you reach across the table for it, you finally realize what you should have all along, that it’s actually Simon’s phone that’s ringing, because he apparently left it at the table.

You didn’t notice it before because it blended in with the appetizers scattered around, but you curiously pick it up, wondering if it’s something important for his job.

The screen displays a plain, bold: Knobhead #2

That makes you laugh, watching the call die when it goes to voicemail. You go to put it back, but it’s already ringing again, because apparently somebody needs him.

You really shouldn’t.

But you can’t help it. It would be fun, and you really need something to cheer you up.

With a grin, you answer the call and smoothly purr, “Hello, knobhead.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other side of the line, and then a muffled, “What?”

“You heard me. What do you need, Simon’s busy. And before you ask, this is not Mrs. Riley, this is someone who has no business answering his phone.”

There’s a long enough pause this time that you’re able to gulp down some of your sister’s drink. You stretch your legs out under the booth and stare up at the rafters, thinking idly about situationships and isolation.

The male voice on the other end of the line makes a soft, “Mmm, I see,” and it throws you off a little bit because you were expecting someone impatient to reach Simon. “Got any idea where he is?”

“Well Knobhead, he’s currently having a chat with Mrs. Riley in the bathroom stall, I imagine. If you’d like to come down to Chilis, you’ll find me very alone, and very pissed that the two people I came out with tonight have abandoned me to bump uglies for the thousandth time. Can I take a message?”

The man has a pandering note to his voice now that pisses you off. “I… don’t think that would be wise. But fancy calling me Knobhead one more time before I go?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You go to end the call, but unfortunately fumble around the screen a little, just long enough to hear a warm chuckle on the other side of the line before you punch the red button.

Knobhead is right.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[moonlight-records]

A Nonsense Christmas| LH44 (HAC #9)

pairing: lh44 x reader

summary: you're performing at this year's IHeartRadio's Jingle Ball. Your boyfriend is here to support and being the naughty boy he is, has to have some fun with you.

warning: SMUT. oral (f receiving), fingering, lewis loves to spoil reader!!!

fc: sabrina carpenter!

wc: 1.6K

a/n: day 9 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar! also maybe a part two to this??

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | current day | day 10

“Hey babe–damn.” A low whistle behind you, “I’ve never wanted to be on the naughty list more than I do at this moment.”

You look through your mirror to see Lewis leaning against the doorway while your music plays in the background. You put your brush down and turn, smiling at your boyfriend. “You like?” You ask as you gesture to your outfit. You’re in a red corset with a heart shaped window that exposes the tiny bit of cleavage. Attached was a red lacy skirt that barely qualified for a skirt when standing still or sitting with how bunched up it became and therefore, almost nonexistent. Thankfully, you had matching red spanx’s under it.

“I do.” Lewis hums as he looks over your bedazzled corset before his eyes fall to your legs. “Do you have tights underneath?”

“I do,” you gently pull the skin colored tights away from your leg, “skin toned. Why? Worried people would get to see how wonderfully smooth my legs are?” You joke as Lewis makes his way over, laughing. “No, I was worried you’d get cold and everyone would focus on the goosebumps instead of your beautiful face and singing.” Lewis hums as he looks down at you before you gently place your silver bedazzled platform heel against his chest, smiling innocently as the clasps dangle. Lewis glances at you with a raised brow before smiling and clasping your shoe. You drop your foot and he gently pats his chest as you put your other foot against his chest as he clasp your other shoe. “Thank you darling.” You hum as you turn back around to finish your makeup as Lewis kisses your head gently, “you’re welcome, love.”

Grabbing a chair, Lewis sits next to you while watching you finish your makeup. “Do you have a copy of your set list?” You happily slide him the set list while applying your lipstick. You lean back after cleaning up the corners and glance to your boyfriend before grabbing his chin gently and planting kisses all over his face. You giggle, pulling back to admire the pale lipstick littering your boyfriend’s face. Lewis blinks away his shock before leaning in to look at himself in the mirror, laughing softly. “What’s this?” He looks at you. “Getting rid of the excess lipstick,” you remark innocently.

“Oh really? Because to me, it looks like you’re making your territory.” Lewis smirks as he tilts his head slightly. You look at him, and hate how god damn stunning your boyfriend looks. Even in his simple black long sleeve and matching jeans with combat boots, he looked like a Greek God trying to disguise themselves as human. You can’t help yourself as you close the gap, kissing him.

It’s very rare that you and Lewis take things “slow”. Sure, in the beginning you and Lewis tested the water, especially Lewis history with dating pop stars. You refused to be burned like the others and Lewis, much more calmer now that he’s older, wanted to prove that he changed and was serious. It was nice. The dates, the lazy mornings when he was home, the sex.

Sex with Lewis was probably the best. Sure, it was because he was older and actually knew what he was doing but there was much more. He was attentive. He was caring. He was open and very vocal and yet so laid back. You didn’t have to pretend that you liked something with Lewis or have to keep quiet on trying new things. You two would sit in the tub after, debriefing and telling each other what you guys like and don’t like. You two were open with fantasies and kinks. It was probably the first relationship where you felt so cared for and heard in bed that you constantly wanted to be riding your boyfriend.

But right now, you two had about 20 minutes before you were going to be brought backstage to perform next so slow was not an option. Pulling back, your breathing was labored as you found yourself straddling Lewis feeling his hard as you shift your hips, smirking when a low groan escapes past Lewis lips. You yelp in surprise when Lewis picks you up before placing you on the vanity. Your eyes flutter close, feeling Lewis start to kiss and nip at your neck, rolling your hips against his. “Ah, be careful Mr. Hamilton. I have to go on soon and can’t have people focused on the hickies.” Lewis pulls back and you giggle seeing him still littered with all your lipstick stains. You were a hypocrite, yes, but it would take you forever to carefully cover all of them given your outfit basically covered nothing.

“How long do you have till you go out to perform?” Lewis asks. “20 minutes.” Lewis thinks. “I can get you to finish in ten.” Lewis murmurs which makes you shudder as he hooks a finger under your spanx and you lift your hips to help him pull them down just enough, taking your panties and tights as well while Lewis drops to his knees and tosses your legs over his shoulders. “Lewis!” You hiss as he kisses your inner thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, “hm?” Your heart flips seeing that mischievous grin on his face. Putting your lips together, “if you don’t get me off in ten minutes I’ll be really upset.”

“Oh baby,” Lewis murmurs, working his way up your thigh, “I would be more worried about if you’ll be able to perform when I’m done.” Lewis murmurs slowly against your skin as he starts to gently play with your folds. You whine as Lewis tries to softly shush you. Before you can ask, Lewis pulls your thighs apart as far as they can go before dipping his head between your legs.

Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the loud moan as Lewis takes a long deep lick across your slit. The heat from his tongue makes your head dizzy as he finally gets to work. You tilt your head back against the mirror as his tongue starts working on your clit. Your free hand flies to his braids when his tongue switches from kitten licks and figure eights. You arch your back mouth falling open when Lewis inserts two fingers into you, making a v-shape.

You snap your mouth shut as you fumble for your phone to turn your music up praying it’ll mask the almost pornographic noises that Lewis was creating between your legs. “I—fuck. Lewis,” you moan lowly as you try to keep your voice in check. You did not want to be banned from getting ahead before performing. You make the grave mistake of looking down and oh fuck.

Lewis is looking up at you through those stupidly beautifully long lashes. His lips and chin are slick and glistening from your juices when he pulls away just a few mere centimeters. Your chest is heaving, face and body flushed, and legs trembling slightly. The familiar burning is starting to form in your lower stomach as Lewis curls his fingers and hits that spot. You arch your back again and tug at his braids which causes Lewis to grunt softly. “Yes darling?” Lewis murmurs as he leaves wet kisses your inner thighs while continuing to pump his fingers into you.

A shudder runs down your thigh when you feel Lewis’ breath on your core before his head dips back between your legs. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching and let out a silent scream when it hits you harder than before. Your legs shake as you tip your head back, instinctively closing your legs and attempting to crush Lewis with your thighs. He grips your thighs tightly trying to free his jaw slightly as he works you through your orgasm, cleaning you up with his tongue. He finally leans back, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. “Beautiful.” Lewis murmurs as he stands.

You're seeing stars with your legs still shaking slightly but finally look at your boyfriend. Grabbing his wrist, you take his fingers into your mouth and lick his fingers clean. You watch his eyes darken even more as his breath becomes a bit labored as he watches you before slipping his fingers out of your mouth. You tilt your head when Lewis leans over you, kissing your neck up to your jaw, murmuring against your skin. “So beautiful and good for me. You look so good spread out for me like this.” He works his way up to your ear nipping softly at your earlobe. “We’ll finish this after your set, okay?”

You hum gently while bringing your gaze down to his pants. You bite your lip because damn, you really were willing to risk a ban if it meant having Lewis inside you. “You sure?” You ask as Lewis grabs some wipes nearby (and double checking they were baby wipes) before cleaning you up gently and then his face which included some lipstick stains but that’s fine. “Positive. You have to perform soon and don’t think you want to look so messy for your fans,” Lewis smirks. He helps you off the vanity and even has the courtesy to help you pull up your tights and shorts.

Once you sit in your seat, Lewis kisses you on the forehead with a smile. “I’ll see you after. Remember, have fun and be yourself. You’ll do great.” He massages your shoulders for a moment before you turn and give Lewis a kiss and watch him start for the door, adjusting himself and glancing back. “Is there—”

“Right next door.”

Lewis grins, mouthing a ‘thank you’ and ‘love you’ before heading to the bathroom. You turn back and smile while shaking your head. Fixing yourself, you stand up and shake slightly. Grabbing your cane, you use it as a walking stick as you head backstage for more nonsense Christmas fun.

[briefalpacashark]

~Drunk Boys~

The boys from 141 get drunk and you have to pick them up.

Warning: Drunk, violence.

Parts inspired from New Girl. If you know you know.

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One lovely evening you sat in your little office space. The boys had headed off quite some time ago for a few drinks. Your usual Friday night outing didn't include you that time because of a few reports you had put off. It was pulling onto 1am when your phone started to ring. It was a new number you had never seen before.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking,” you said.

“Hey uh doc?” It was Gaz voice that came through the call. 

“Gaz?” you asked.

“Who you talking to?” you could hear Jonny ask in the background.

“I'm talking to doc,” Gaz stated.

“Oh, why?” Jonny whispered.

“I don't know,” Gaz murmured back. It didn't take a detective to establish by their slurred tones that they were drunk.

“Gaz, why are you calling me from a random number?” you asked.

“I don't know. Our phones got wet,” he explained.

“Our?” you asked.

“Yeah Me, Soap, Ghost and Price,” he stated with a sassy tone, as if it was your fault for not knowing. 

“So you fucked you phones?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Gaz nodded.

“And you called me, why?” you asked. There was silence for a bit.

“Captain, why am I calling Doc again?” Gaz asked.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Price snapped in the distance.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Gaz tone was much calmer and sweeter than Prices. A small smile worked its way onto your face.

“Alright, ill be there soon. Where are you?” you asked, making your way to the door.

“Not at the base,” Gaz said.

“I know that Gaz. Where are you now?” It was like talking to a toddler.

“Oh, We're at McDonalds,” he said before the line went dead. There were three McDonalds in the town. You thought they would be at the one closest to the bar. You were right. You were about to pull into the car park when you paused. Alittle down the street, right under the McDonalds sign sat four blobs. Driving up to it, you slammed on the brakes at what you saw. 

Price was sitting with his arms crossed. His hat looked to have been ripped in half and then shakily put back together with some staples, a tuft of his hair sticking out the top. Next to him Ghost with a traffic cone on his head and one tucked in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He was hugging it, and the one in his lap had been drawn on, and made up to look like a person, with a hat and a bikini loosely tied around it. One of his jacket sleeves was missing as if it had been torn clean off. Jonny sat next to him shirtless, with a patch of hair missing from his chest. Over it a pink glittery 21st birthday sash. His mohawk sprinkled with glitter and a kilt. Gaz had left in a pair of jeans, he was now in a pair of pink booty shorts that you would place money on that had some word like bitch or booty on the back of bedazzled gems. A crown of beer cans ducked taped around his head compelled the fit. All about them, strewn across the floor was a variety of McDonald's food, ranging from ice-creams to nuggets. They were all happily munching away. And they were all missing their left shoe?

You got out of the car phone at the ready.

“Say cheese boys,” you called. Drunkenly, they all looked up in your general direction, taking a photo. You chuckled, pocketing your phone and hands as you looked over them all. Wondering what the hell happened to them. 

“Ah, it's doc. What are you doing here, lovey?” Jonny asked in excitement, throwing his hands to the air.

“I'm here to pick you boys up,” you said.

“Pah, no we're alright. We've still got to go to another bar. Ain't that right LT?” Jonny asked, waving you away.

“Aye. I want another lager,” Ghost stated defiantly.

“I think you boys have had enough. Just look at the state of ya,” you gestured to them. 

“Wow, body shaming. Shame on you Y/N,” Gaz slurred, shaking his head disappointingly.

“Your all wet. Each of you has a piece of clothing damaged and all of you haven't even made eye contact with me yet,” you explained. Instantly, they all turned to stare into your eyes.

“Bull shit,” Jonny hiccuped before taking a bite of his burger. 

“Sargent, Report,” Price spoke up. You paused, considering his words as he stared down at the road in front of him.

“Report sir?” you asked. He nodded, tipping forward ever so slightly. Your eyes widened. He was absolutely plastered. They all were. 

“Your all drunk as fuck,” you said simply, your sentence finishing in a bewilder chuckle. The boys could hold their liquer, hell you have ever seen Gaz and Jonny drunk. 

“Am not,” Jonnys offended tone had you laughing again.

“Of sorry. My mistake, your only eating ice cream burger because you want to,” you jabbed you fingers at the burger in his hands. The ice cream was dripping down his arms and it looked like he had stacked nuggets, chips and a shit ton of cheese into the mix.

“As a matter of fact I did want to,” he said moving his hand about, the contents of the burger slopping onto the ground.

“Awww,” Jonny whined.

“Five second rule bruv,” Gaz said reaching bow to pick up a handful of the mess reconstructing the burger and handing it back to Jonny.

“Thanks Gaz,” Jonny seemed genuinely thankful. You held back a gag as he moved it to his mouth.

“Don't eat that,” you warned. You sure as hell didn't want him getting sick of all the gems that were now thrown into the burger mix. 

“I'll do what I want to do, because I can do whatever I want to do because I can do it,” he slurred.

“Jonny you eat that burger and I'll never speak to you again,” you proposed the ultimatum. He paused, pondering for a moment.

“What if I drink it?” he asked.

“Your gonna drink a burger?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“Aye,” he nodded confidently.

“I bet you a tenner you can't,” Price spoke up. The poor man looked to be dozing in and out of sleep.

“I'll take that bet,” Jonny said.

“Jonny that was on the road,” you pleaded.

“And?” he asked.

“Put it down,” you ordered sternly. With a grumble, he chucked the burger down like a toddler throwing a tantrum. The boys held back their giggles. You heard that right giggle. And it was stared by none other than the man himself. Price. He was giggling. The high-pitched noise sounded off coming from him.

“Ohhhhhhhh mums mad at you,” Gaz joked, nudging his side.

“Sod off,” Jonny grumbled.

“Alright where’s the phone you called me from?” you asked.

“Why?” Gaz questioned.

“Because you called me from a random number, which means you had someone else’s phone. By the state of you lot I wouldn't be surprised if you stole it,” you explained.

“Right, it's over there,” Gaz grabbed his thumb to the phone booth. You first thought they had called you from it, but when you noticed the little pink box, you walked up to it to get a closer look. It was an iPhone. In a pink case, it was cracked to kingdom come and they had somehow lodged it in the credit card reader. You tried tugging it out to no avail. What you did find was Gaz’s phone propped up on the little stand with his contacts open with your name and number on it. Deciding not to question the backwards thinking that led them there you pocketed Gaz’s phone, walking back to the boys.

“Alright, I want the truth ok. What happened?” you asked a little concerned.

“Meet up with some airforce boys. They tried to act all high and mighty,” Price shrugged.

“Said they could drink more than us,” Ghost added.

“We had to prove them wrong,” Jonny explained.

“And we did. But then they brought out, Um what was it called?” Gaz clicked his fingers. 

“Abstanance,” Jonny proclaimed proudly. 

“Absinthe?” you asked in shock.

“Hell yeah, drunk those fuckers under the table.” Ghost nodded.

“Dunk yourselves under the table by the looks of it. Why are you wet? And what the fuck happened to ya shoes?” you asked.

“The ducks were drowning,” Gaz stated simply.

“And there was a bar that takes your shoe when you start a tab. It's to prevent running out without payed your tab,” Jonny added.

“So you all rescued ducks and ran out on a tab?” you asked. The boys pondered for a moment realized how bad it sounded. 

“Yes,” Ghost nodded.

“No,” the rest of them said. 

“And only Ghost rescued the ducks, I fell in, Gaz tried to rescue me but couldn't and Price saved us both,” Jonny explained as if it fixed it all.

“You shouldn't have been hanging around ponds this drunk. It's dangerous,” you murmured.

“For your information, it wasn't a pond,” Gaz stated defensively.

“Oh yeah, what was it?” you cooed back.

“It was the fountain,” he pointed across the way into the park where a fountain was lit up. A knee deep fountain. 

“Right, get in the car. Come on,” the boys groaned.

“We can't,” Gaz said.

“And why not?” you asked.

“Cause,” he trailed off. “Legs an’t working,” he finished. The boys all gave him approving nodds thinking his excuse was to tire brilliance.

“Well, I guess I'll just help you. Come on,” you helped Gaz up first, sliding him into the back of the car. 

“I don't wanna go,” Jonny whined.

“I know big guy,” you cooed. Sliding him in next to Gaz, you shook your head when they started giggling. 

“Your turn,” you gestured Ghost up. 

“Am I under arrest?” he asked.

“What? No,” you shook your head.

“Oh really. Seemed like it.” his hint of sass had you pointing to the car. With a grumble he got up and walked to the car, slipping into the middle seat. You frowned, ducking your head to see the other door open, Jonny now sitting at the far side and Gaz nowhere to be seen. Looking back to the makeshift picnic, you saw him back at the phone booth.

“For fuck’s sake, Stay,” you order the two in the car. Walking up to him, you frowned as he held the phone up to his ear.

“What you doing Gaz?” you asked.

“Ringling Doc. She needs to come pick us up,” he said whole heartedly forgetting that you were there already. With a huffed you took him by the arms, pulling him back. You sighed when you saw Ghost and Jonny sitting back on the curb happily munching away. You sat Gaz in the back of the car, deciding to lock the back door this time. You then filed in Jonny than Ghost. Closing the door behind them, you made your way back to Price.

“Come on sir,” you called softly. He looked up to you and with the biggest beaming brightest smile, and he giggled. God you had never seen anything more pure.

“Your sweet Doc,” he said. 

“Thank You sir. Now can you get in the car please,” you begged. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded, suddenly shooting to his feet. And with that, he toppled back like a domino landing in the bush.

“Christ,” You scrambled to get him out, practically carrying him to the car. Putting him in the driver's seat you buckled him in. When your head rose to make sure the boys were all in you were met by empty back seats. 

“Doc, we can't leave the boys,” Price stated pointing out the window. Where the three men were gathered around a tree relieving themselves. Only Gaz seemed to just be standing there and Jonny appeared to be pissing on Ghost's boot.

“Get in the car!” You called out the window. Begrudgingly, they all piled back in. 

“Hang on, I need a piss,” Price spoke up just as they all buckled in. With a tired sigh you patiently waited. Then when he returned you drove off. 

“Wait, a minute, this ain't the way home,” Gaz suddenly pointed out.

“Yes I know. I think I know the bar you're talking about. We're going to go back there and pay your tab and get your shoes back. The higher ups would have a field day if you guys got in trouble,” you explained. Pulling up to the bar, you parked the car.

“Wait this is a police station,” Jonny pointed out. Yes, on the other side of the street, there was a police station. 

“We should go fight that police officer,” Ghost suggested.

“What? What police officer?” you asked.

“The one we stole this from,” Gaz said, pulling a taser gun that had been tucked in the back of his pants.

“You stole from a police officer!” you exclaimed.

“First of all he was an absolute piss head. A real fucker,” Price spoke up in a logical tone.

“Yeah, he tried to arrest Gaz,” Ghost added.

“Prick,” Gaz grumbled.

“Let's do this Lads,” Price grinned at the rest of them. Like a toddler hyped up on sugar.

“Actually, I think that might be a bad idea,” Gaz spoke up.

“Gaz,” Price called and Gaz hummed in response.

“I got two of these and you got two of those. And we got whatever da fuck Ghost is, lets go,” he held up two fists before stepping out of the car.

“No NO nonononono,” you reached over trying to grab at Price, but he was already gone.

“I swear to god if any of you move I'll give you tetanus shots in the morning,” you threw the threat back at the remaining men in the car. The tetanus shot was one of the worst shots you could get, and they all had bad memories of it. So at the threat, they quickly did their seat belts back up. 

“Christ,” you hissed, quickly hopping out of the car when you saw Price walk up to an officer hanging around outside.

While you were trying to deescalate the situation and explain to the cop why there was a drunk man trying to pick a fight, the boys were watching from the car. 

“She's scary,” Gaz whispered.

“What a fucking woman,” Ghost grumbled.

“I think I'm gonna ask her out,” Jonny declared. Ghost head snapped around faster than light.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Jonny rumbled back.

“I bagsed her. You can't do shit,” Ghost said.

“Fucking when?” Jonny asked.

“Just then,” Ghost stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You can't bags a woman,” Gaz interjected.

“I know, women are strong beautiful beings to be respected and we are to respect their choices,” Ghost said, all the boys agreeing.

“But I still bags her,” he added at the end. 

“Fuck you Brit. If you like her, do something bout it!” Jonny snapped his blink slightly delayed. 

“Suck a cock scotsman,” Ghost snapped back.

“Do-Do you think you can beat me in a physical altercation of feisty cuffs?” Jonny fumbled with his words, raising his fists slightly. His aim was to star threateningly at his face but he missed the mark slightly staring at his knee. “I will beat you in a way you have NEver Beeenn beaten before,” Ghost stared at Jonny’s unfocused gaze. Before casually reaching over and giving him a gentle backhanded tap on his face. 

“OHHHHHH,” Gaz called from his middle seat.

“DAMMIT!” Jonny explained as if he had just received a full on punch but didn't move in the slightest.

“You just got hit in the face lad,” Gaz giggle.

“Hit me again!” Jonny dared. So Ghost did, repeating the same action. Only it didn't seem to compute in Jonny mind the second time. “I dare you, you put your hands on me one more time, Cause I swear, it will be an, I will-” Ghost reached over his wrist wrapping around the back of Jonny neck.

“Come closer so I can put you in a choke hold,” Ghost asked politely.

“No!” Jonny declared going to hit back only for his hand to completely miss and fall to the side harmlessly. The two fumbled in the back of the car not really accomplishing anything.

“Guys, look he's gettin the cop!” Gaz announced. They all looked out the car window to see the cop walk off.

You had tried and failed to calm them down. Price had demanded to see the cop that tried to arrest Gaz. The boys all piled out of the car, some more graceful than others, before rushing up to you.

“Oh god no, get back in the car please!” you begged.

“Gotta get loose,” Jonny stated, starting to do jumping jacks.

“Guys Doc is right. We should go,” Gaz stated.

“Pussy,” that one word from Ghost was all it took for Gaz to shrug his jacket off and start stretching.

“You guys are really gonna fight a cop!?” you asked, bewildered by it all. 

“Yes we are!” Jonny yelled confidently.

“No you're not!” You yelled. You couldn't believe it. It was like all common sense had been turned off in their heads.

“Ohhh Jonny’s in trouble,” Gaz grinned.

“Fuck you,” Jonny called reaching out to try and give Gaz a slight tap on the nuts.

“Dont touch my balls!” Gaz cried. 

“Yeah Jonny,” Ghost chuckled, amused by it all only for Jonny to try and hit his. Bewildered, you were utterly bewildered as you saw the group of highly trained soldiers all become involved in what you assumed was a game of hit the dick. They were all relatively bent over trying to protect their jewels while simultaneously trying to hit each other. Even price had been pulled into it.

“Guys come on,” you begged. 

“He touched my penis!” Jonny cried in a high-pitched voice.

“Don't touch my penis!” Gaz screamed right back. 

“Can I help you boys?” A cop walked out of the station.

“Officer. Hi. I am so sorry about them there just a little drunk, I'll get them home safely,” you quickly interjected yourself between them.

“It's the cop!” Jonny declared pointing at him. The cop was beyond confused. Because for one, he had never seen the boys before in his life. 

The truth of the story was that it was a comply different cop that had tried to arrest Gaz. They looked similar, and that was about it. And the only reason why he was trying to arrest Gaz was because he had stolen his taser gun.

But the boys could hardly see straight, so when they heard the cop was there, they trusted his words comply. 

“Come on, let's go!” Jonny declared as they all crowded around the poor man. Well, you tried to keep them back trying to speak over their taunts for a fight. The cop spoke into his radio, requesting backup.

“Please, this is all a big misunderstanding. They're actually really nice blokes,” your words fell on deaf ears.

“Pig!” Ghost said.

“Oh look, the little boy needs back up. We can take em,” Gaz said.

“If Laswell finds out about this, she’ll have your heads!” Your yell instantly had the boys silent.

“FUCKEN RUN!” Price ordered the fear filling them. Instantly they took off down the street.

“Serpentine!” Gaz yelled had them all running in a squiggly line. Which had Jonny and Gaz running into each other. Ghost even knocked his head on a low post not even flinching as he kept on running. That left you standing there out the front of the police station with a group of police officers. And you all watched as the boys disappeared down the street. 

“So um that,” you trailed off, pointing to them. “I uh,”

“I have no explanation for that,” you whispered in defeat. 

When you found Gaz he was still running down the street.

“GAZ GET IN THE CAR!” you yelled out the window.

“FUCK THE POLICE! FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled.

“WHAT!?” you yelled. He instantly stopped running up to the car window.

“I have nothing against women, officers. I understand how my words were terrible. I just heard you were a woman and everyone calls you all policemen so I wanted to be inclusive but I realize I was just singling you out,” he explained drunkenly.

“Gaz I'm not a police woman. Get in the fucken car,” you ordered.

“You can't fool me. FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled, taking off sprinting again. 

“Fuck this,” you grunted slamming on the breaks and jumping out he car. Gaz wasn't really sure what happened but one moment he was running down the street and the next he was in the back of the car the seat belt cut and tied around his hands and feet.

The others were a bit harder to find. Price was up a fucking willow tree. Getting him out of the tree was a fucking mission. You ended up just throwing random stuff at him until he eventually fell out. You used branches to tie him up and put him in the car as well. Finding Soap was a lucky find. You saw him stumbling down the street and when you called out to him he rushed into a club. As you walked in you realized quickly that you wouldn't have much luck finding him. It was packed to the brim and you couldn't see over anyone's heads. So you make your way up to the DJ booth.

“Hi, I'm trying to find a drunk scotsman. He's a vet. Do you mind?” you asked, gesturing to the microphone.

“Anything for our boys,” he said, handing it over.

“If you're a Scot and wearing a kilt, come up on stage for your prize!” Everyone cheered as you tucked yourself behind the DJ stand. Jonny walked up on stage basking in the cheers, raising his hands high in the air. 

And then you crash tackled him to the floor, tying him up with some power cords.

“Fucks sake Jonny,” you grunted after you had lugged his body out of the club and into the car. 

“Wow, they caught you before me, Captain. I'm surprised,” Jonny grinned smugly. You spent the next hour searching for Simon. You were about to give up when you decided to ring his phone. If Gaz’s still worked there was a chance his did too. Hearing the ringing you frowned. It wasn't just coming from your phone. Looking back to the boys, you could hear the muffled sound.

“Hello?” Ghost asked through the phone. His actual voice sounded once again from the back. Getting out of the car, you rounded it before pulling the boot open. There Ghost lay, his large body comedically tucked into the back, the Traffic cone still in his arms.

“How long have you been in there?” you asked.

“Since you caught Gaz,” he stated simply. With a deep sigh you gestured him out of the back. You knew you didn't need to tie him up and helped him to the front seat. Locking the doors, you started to drive everyone back to base.

“Boys, we've been kidnapped,” Price stated slowly. 

“Like hell we have,” Jonny whispered back.

“What are you boys whispering about back there?” You asked. With your eyes on the busy road, you failed to see them untie themselves and jimmy the lock.

“RONDEVU AT THE PUB BOYS!” Price ordered. Instantly, they all threw themselves out of the car and legged it in opposite directions. You had slammed on the brakes once they had done it. You watched them run, letting your tired head fall to the steering wheel.

“Give me strength,” you pleaded. This time you weren't so lucky in finding them. 

What happened was your phone rang again. From a new number.

“Hello?” you already knew who it was.

“Hey doc. Can you come pick us up? We lost the car,” Gaz's voice wafted through.

“Sure where are you? You asked.

“The police station,” he whispered bashfully.

So there you were back at the police station. You smiled bashfully at the officers the boys had tried to fight. Luckily for them you were a sweet talker. And the fact that they were military helped as well. They would have been charged with theft of a police officer and walking out on a tab. But you returned the taser gun, which hadn't been discharged. And you paid the tab with a generous tip getting their boots back in the process. The boys embarrassingly walked out of the station looking like puppies that had just been kicked. 

“Are you mad at us?” Jonny asked.

“Not mad, Just disappointed,” you shook your head. For the four drunk men the sentence was devastating, making them drop their head in guilt. A tiny smile pulled at your lips.

“Come on, let's get you home,” you ruffled Jonny's hair gently pulling them all out of the police station.

“Can we get McDonalds on the way home?” Gaz asked.

“I want an ice cream,” Price spoke up.

“Sure, why not?”

This time, the drive was much more peaceful. When you got back, you made sure they were all changed, well hydrated and tucked into bed. Which was incredibly hard because they had hit the pass out drunk stage. Ghost was the hardest. You managed to get him on the bed and his shirt and jacket off relatively easily. You paused momentarily as you saw his bare upper body. God damn the greek sculptures could take pointers from him. Your gaze softened as you saw all the scars and bullet holes that lined the ripples of his muscle. He's been through a lot. You felt slightly perverted as you undid his pants. Only they were wet and long, so you stood there yanking at them pulling them off inch by inch. Now you were using your whole body to get those bad boys off, so it didn't surprise you when you flew halfway across the room when you finally got them off. Breathing heavily, you gently lifted his legs back onto the bed. Grabbing the blanket, you tucked it up to his chin, your hand brushing against the wet mask. While the room was heated, it was still cold. Plus, you couldn't tell if it was water or blood from the hit that was on the top. 

“Alright Simon, I'm gonna take off your mask. But I'm gonna close my eyes so don't worry. I just don't want you waterboarding yourself in your sleep,” you whispered. He gave no response. With a deep breath, you reached up and closed your eyes. Your hands gathered the material at the bottom of the fabric and started rolling it up. In your focus you hadn't noticed Simon's eyes snap open at the movement. His hand had almost snapped around your wrist, only stopping when he saw your eyes closed. Slowly, he let his hand fall as you pulled the mask fully off. 

“Alright, now let's see if you did any damage to that head of yours?” you asked. Your hands brushed away his hair from his face, humming at the loose curls. His heart stirred as he stared at you, loving the blissful feeling your hands gave him as they moved across his face. When you were happy that it was only a lump he had sustained a small giggle left on your lips.

“That's gonna be a shiner mate,” you whispered.

He watched as your smile dropped slightly when her thumb brushed over a scar. You got a weird sense of DeJa'Vu as you thumb gently traced the scar. So many scars. Life certainly hadn't been kind to him.

"What am I gonna do with you huh?" you asked softly. Brushing his hair back once again, you stood.

“Night Simon,” you whispered before blindly making your way out the room. Simon watched the door close before looking up at the ceiling. His hand clasped over his rapidly beating heart as he came to the sudden realization. 

He was absolutely smitten for the Doc.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

================================================

=COD Master List Here=

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[angelkiyo]

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who you met at a house party that your mutual friend oikawa threw. your friends got the flier on instagram and decided to bring you in attempts to bring you out of your shell—where you were brought in his sights while getting something to drink. you in your sparkly pink velour halter top and skin tight jean mini skirt drove him crazy, driving the need to talk to you.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who comes up and talks to you once your friend gets caught up in the party, awkwardly starting the conversation by asking what you’re drinking. catching wind on how you want to get fresh air from the heavy presence of weed, alcohol, and sweat, offers to drive you around the neighborhood. he simply does so, turning the windows down, stopping at a grocery store’s parking lot and offers you some weed to which you surely agree to. “the night’s been rough” — in which conversation and sativa rush ends in a rough make-out session before he drops you home and leads both of you wanting more after.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who slowly but surely, became the only guy you really talked to after the party you attended, with every other guy attempting to ask you out scared off by him. maybe it was his rough and intimidating exterior— with his years of self-discipline showcased by his biceps and the tattoos tattooed on his sun-kissed skin, or maybe it’s his demeanor; talking eloquently and clearly adding on to his intimidating appearance. either way, both reasons are some of your favorite things about him (and he knows it and loves that).

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who brags about you, his smart and pretty little girlfriend. he loves to show you off at parties, especially when you showcase your necklace with his name on it or your nails with his initials. once you’ve reached a year with him, he definitely has your lipstick mark tatted on his neck. if he isn’t promoting his business on social media, he posts those subtle mirror selfies with you, the flash covering your face as he wraps his arms around your waist, fingers slightly toying with the waistband of your skirt.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who spoils you fucking rotten. you want those “preppy little” van cleef bracelets? he’ll buy it and a matching necklace. you get money to do your nails every week and have his card connected to whatever app you want to buy something from. he loves to spoil you when it comes to shopping — addicted to your smile and the way you look when you do a little fashion show of your newly bought clothes ranging from elegant vera wang slip dresses to bedazzled and lacy lingerie sets bought exclusively for him.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who always makes sure you come first, whether it be priorities or bedroom matters, you are on the top of his list, putting your own pleasures and preferences on number one. he puts his clients on hold just to make sure he gives you what you need.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who eats you out like you’re his last meal but grabs on your thighs gently while doing so. he might have an intimidating and scary presence however, he knows how to treat and pleasure a woman. the way he knows where to hit your pleasure spots in every position he tries with you as long as you’re comfortable.

hehehe hope you all had a nice holiday!!

[tempobaekh]

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[vandme12]

our serials (kc) with a reader with glasses? :3

Reader who is always forgetting to wear their glasses, making CONSTANT typos in the server, or the characters catching them squinting. Just curious to how that would go ^~^'

V

At first, he assumes your typos are some kind of code. He spends an embarrassing amount of time trying to decipher the nonsense until you admit you just... forgot your glasses.

“You should be more careful. Words matter.” He says this like you’re committing war crimes every time you accidentally call him “Vurghilante.”

Eventually, he starts proofreading your messages. If you send something particularly chaotic, expect him to correct it with the same energy as a disappointed English teacher.

He absolutely notices when you’re squinting at something. If you resist putting your glasses on, he will silently place them on your face like you’re a stubborn child. No words. Just the weight of his judgment.

The one time you squint at him, he deadpans, “I’m not blurry.” But there’s a hint of amusement when you still refuse to wear your glasses.

Once, you mistyped his name so badly it resembled a rare plant species. He spent the next 24 hours sending you obscure botany facts as punishment.

Misaki

Oh, he thinks it’s hilarious. Your typos? Screenshot folder. Your squinting? Material for endless teasing. They calls you “Mole-ey” and won’t stop.

If you try to defend yourself, they just leans in uncomfortably close to your face like, “You sure you can see me, sweetheart? Or am I just a mysterious blur?”

Constantly quizzes you on random distant objects. "What does that sign say? No, no, don't squint. Use your powers."

Steals your glasses when she’s bored and wears them, claiming they're smarter now. He calls himself “Professor Misaki” while pushing them up the bridge of their nose.

If you lose your glasses, prepare for them to find the worst replacements. He once handed you pink heart-shaped sunglasses and insisted it was an upgrade.

If you squint at them, they wiggles his eyebrows and says, “Careful, if you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you have a crush.”

Angel

She immediately appoints herself your “Seeing Eye Babe.” If you squint for more than a second, she takes your hand and narrates the world around you like you’re in a dramatic audiobook.

When you make typos, she just rolls with them. Whatever weird word salad you send becomes canon. You once typed “I need a hug pls” as “I need a hog pls,” and now she periodically sends you piglet pictures.

If you’re squinting in her direction, she just tilts her head and teases, “Sweetheart, if you wanted to check me out, all you had to do was ask.”

If you lose your glasses, she will find them immediately. She has a sixth sense for misplaced items and is smug about it every time.

When she catches you struggling, she pulls your glasses from your bag and slides them onto your face with a fond smile. “I like your eyes better when you aren’t torturing them.”

She once bedazzled your glasses case without telling you. You open your bag and suddenly it’s glitter city. “Now you’ll never lose them again,” she winks.

Ronin

Oh, he lives for your mistakes. Every typo is ammo for his endless mockery. He purposefully misreads them to make things worse.

“What do you mean, 'I’d like to grab a dork'? Bold move. Keep talking.”

If you squint at him, he just smirks and leans in too close. “Better? Or do you need me even closer, baby?”

Constantly calls you “Blind Bat,” but somehow it sounds weirdly affectionate. Like you’re his favorite helpless disaster.

If you lose your glasses, he will absolutely hold them hostage until you grovel for them back. And, oh, he will make you grovel.

When he sees you straining at your screen, he dramatically sighs and tugs you onto his lap. “If you won’t fix your eyesight, I guess I’ll just have to keep you close so you don’t wander off and die.”

Despite all the teasing, he memorizes where you usually leave your glasses. He never admits it, but when you panic because you can’t find them, he always knows exactly where to look.

[inkdrinkerworld]

dick literally spends every single penny on you it's CONCERNING, like every date he's dropping 2k in dinner, and you're like huh??? when he gets you gifts for no reason, would be VERY suspicious to me, cus i would instantly think that he's done something wrong and be all dramatic like "did someone die?? did you cheat on me?" and he literally just saw your favourite chocolate and flowers at the store and wanted to get you them..

“Gorgeous, where are you?” You’re in the bedroom, hair dripping as you step out of the shower- you shout back such to your boyfriend.

“I got you something nice.” Dick sing songs as he watches you reach for your blow dryer.

“Dick,” you say as you put it down and stare at him. Your boyfriend has a little problem- he has a shopping addiction but never for things for himself.

Sure he buys himself nice things but it seems like his brain derives the most pleasure and dopamine from getting things for you.

The first time he’d come home with something for you, you panicked. You remember asking him if someone died and he’d laughed so hard he’d started crying.

“No baby, that’s depressing by the way. I got you this just because.” He’d said as he pushed a box in your hands and you opened it to find a pretty bracelet with little bells on it.

Now, almost weekly- it would be daily if Dick had his way- he brings something for you.

“Before you get worried. No one died, I didn’t break your favourite mug or eat your chocolates this time.”

You gasp, “This time?”

Dick’s eyes widen, “Let’s not focus on that, here you go, baby.”

The bag crinkles in your hand as you take it, your eyes on Dick the entire time. “It’s not a bomb, open it.”

When you do you smile. Sitting in the bag is a pair of pyjamas that you’d been eyeing for a little bit- a blue and white striped set.

“Dick that’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugs, all smiles. “That’s why they call me honey, honey.”

You blow a raspberry at the joke. “Grayson,” you mumble as you pull out the pyjamas and find two bars of your favourite chocolates and a little box. “I should’ve known it wasn’t just one thing.” He sits on the bed, leaning back on his palm.

He nods, “You really should, I just like getting you things, gorgeous.”

When you open the box you find silver, wing shaped, bedazzled hair clips.

“I don’t know where you get half these things from.” Dick smiles as you walk over to him. The tips of your hair drip onto his shoulder as you kiss him.

“Oh you know, people just like doing things for about five hundred bucks a piece.”

You pull away from him and frown. “You didn’t spend one thousand dollars on hair clips Dick.”

His cheeks go a little pink, “What? No. I said about, gorgeous.” He kisses you again and then pulls away.

“We’ve got a brunch reservation for tomorrow too, at that place you liked last time. Let me do your hair and you can put on your new pyjamas yeah?” He strokes the apples of your cheeks and under your jaw to the point where you’re a little hypnotized.

“Put the honey hair oil in before your flat iron it okay?” Dick nods.

“I know how to do it right, sweetheart. I am a professional.”

“Professional what, Grayson? Money spender?”

He tuts, a smile playing on his lips. “Ha ha, no I’m a professional at taking care of you. Now sit your cute butt down so I can start.”

[vampcubus]

Not me thinking about Muzan and the Upper Moons being put in collars and leashes, nope. Nooooo, siree, nope. Definitely not. I'm a very bad liar-

LATE ANSWER BUT I AM FINALLY READY TO DIVE INTO THIS. just short headcanons for now cus i'm not tryna get too carried away jbdajhsd.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : muzan, akaza, kokushibo, douma, and gyokko.

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐉𝐈

— Muzan thinks the collar is degrading so naturally, he is not too thrilled or receptive to your begging at first. But he's a slave to his own curiosity, so after giving it some thought, he'll let you collar him.

— It is as immensely humiliating as he suspected, hearing the dangly loop where the lead would attach to jingle as he moved. You don't use a leash yet, wanting him to get comfortable with his collar first. He doesn't understand the appeal until you start tugging him around by it, hooking your finger through it to drag him where you want him, whether that be between your legs or otherwise, he's suddenly very pliant.

— You finally take that leap and attach a lead to his sleek black collar, bedazzled with red crystals to match his eyes- the same eyes that bore into you so intensely as you wrap the lead around your wrist several times, drawing him close.

"Such a pretty pet you make," you purr, and something in him purrs back, dark lashes fluttering.

— It's definitely a bedroom-only thing for him though. He has a reputation to uphold afterall. That also means he's getting hard the moment you go to fasten it around his neck ❤︎

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀

— Akaza takes to his collar so easily, smitten with how it feels around his pretty neck the moment you clip it on. He finds it comforting and likes to wear it as often as possible, as a reminder that he is irrevocably yours even when you're apart.

— He'd probably get so attached to it that he'd get anxious if you tried to remove it, instantly rushing to apologize, thinking he's done something wrong and you're punishing him. He gets a little sick to his stomach at the thought of being a bad pet, or bad in general.

— And he'd love to be leashed! it puts less pressure on him not to suddenly jerk away or disobey you on accident, because the lead is there to stop him from going too far.

— Just imagine being on your back with him rutting into you desperately, and then using the leash to pull him down to your lips, smothering his moans against your lips. Purrr.

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀

—Douma will try just about anything, and won't bat an eye if you confess you want to put a collar on him. He is a bit picky though, so make sure it's a nice one, perhaps with pretty dangly things or gems to compliment his eyes.

— I have this vivid image in my mind of him lifting his hair out of the way as you attach the collar around his neck, those rainbow-colored eyes fixated on your facial expressions, searching for your approval. And when he finds it, he's already purring. He'll gladly show it off too, posing and admiring himself in the mirror.

— He likes it even more when you tug him around by it, whether that be by a lead or just hooking your finger through it and yanking him forward. He's a brat sometimes so at times you'll have to be rough with him, and he likes it, so don't worry about hurting him (that turns him on anyway ❤︎)

𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐎

— NOW HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT PLS!! Kokushibo likes to be collared but won't admit it. In fact, he'll pretend he's completely indifferent to it. Beneath the surface though, it feels more right than he ever imagined, to be marked as yours in such a way.

— He's another one I could see having a hard time parting with his collar, which is the biggest clue you'll get from him that he likes it. Just imagining reaching for the clasp when he's being particularly stubborn and his hand slaps over it, all six pairs of eyes wide with panic.

"Don't take it off, please..." he'd mumble, the slightest of blushes gracing his usually stoic face.

— As for leashes... he might be a little offended that you think he'd need one, he has impeccible control of his body and only moves it when you say afterall.

— He will, however, entertain it. Though you hardly need to yank him around at all, it's still very hot to see it moving along with him, especially if you get a chain, cus you hear it jingle with every thrust.

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎

— Gyokko will let you put a collar on him, but he's very picky about the appearance of it. Seriously you'll have to take him with you when you get one so he can pick one out, or let him ramble on about what he wants and get it custom made.

— I think he'd like to have multiple ones, so he can switch them out as he pleases. As for fucking him with it on, he's more easily-flustered than usual, getting red in the face when you boss him around and tug on it.

— Insists on getting matching leashes for each of his collars because he's painfully particular about the small details, but at least he's letting you leash him in the first place right?

[shebreathedherlast]

Daughter of the Sea

Part II

Masterlist

Rhinestones

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: The aftermath of beating Luke comes with consequences.

Work Count: 1.8k

TW: Violence, blood, weapons, mean Luke, broken bones

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“WHO IN OLYMPUS PUT PINK RHINESTONES ON MY DAGGERS?” You yell in anger.

After your victory in Capture the Flag, everyone in camp had a newfound sense of respect for you and your abilities. And to your delight, they contented your skill with that of the infamous Luke Castellan. Unsurprisingly, the one and only Golden Boy wasn’t too happy about this and had been on a mission to make your life a living hell since that day.

But this was too far.

The knives, your prized possessions were covered in pastel pink shimmery rhinestones, and it was most likely Luke's fault.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

You marched up to Chris taking a fistful of this orange camp shirt, “Where. is. Castellan.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

You felt Chris’ body tense, he was all too familiar with your aggressive tendencies.

“I-…I don’t know.” He replied eyes fleeting away from your gaze.

You didn’t buy his answer for a minute.

Shoving him a little more this time, you spoke, “Don’t lie to me Chris. I know you know where he is.”

He was trembling my now, that much was evident. You supposed that after throwing a knife near his head in Capture the Flag, Chris was most likely terrified of you.

You don’t know what you would’ve done to Chris if he didn’t tell you. Probably nothing pretty. So for the fearful boy in your grasp, it was lucky that you caught a glimpse of dark curls rounding the corner.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“Castellan!” You yelled from across the dining area. Luke’s eyes found yours and based on the smirk adorning his features you confirmed the culprit.

Now it was time to apprehend him.

You took off sprinting in his direction, rhinestone knife raised in your right hand.

“You’re gonna suffer for this!” You scream, chest heaving from running.

You saw alarm pass over Luke’s eyes. Good. He should be afraid.

As you began to close in on him, he took off running in the opposite direction. What a cowered. You refused to back down, forcing your legs forward as you tried to regulate your breathing.

By now you had arrived at the woods, but it appeared that Luke had no intention of stopping anytime soon. So you chased after him.

The trees made it difficult to keep up with the Hermes boy, but you pushed on despite this. After running for what felt like hours you finally spotted Luke sitting on a large rock, one leg bent as he rested his elbow on his knee.

“You made it, Chaos. Thought I might have lost you back there.” He said.

You rolled your eyes, desiring nothing more than to rip his head from his body.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” You seethed.

He nodded, patronizing you as a smug expression clung to his features. “I see you found my present.”

“Present?” You spat, “You vandalized my daggers!”

Luke leaned back from his perched position. He was calm and collected and this made you all the more frustrated.

“Did I? Or did I just bedazzle them for you?”

You chuckled angrily, “Bedazzle? Castellan you covered my knives in pink rhinestones and the only excesses you have for you actions is that you “bedazzled” them.” You look to the sky as you throw up your hands. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh come on, Chaos, loosen up. You must have known that I had a motive.” He spoke, eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“I don’t know why I’m even hearing you out right now when I should be inflicting you with a painful death.”

Luke chuckled, clearly humoured, “Like you could, even if you tried.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Castellan. You do remember what happened last time, don’t you?” You spoke, every word coated in venom, “Or do I need to jog your memory?”

Luke raised his hands in front of him with faux surrender.

You scoffed.

“Now is there a reason you brought me here or should I resume what I had planned for you?” You said.

Luke quirked a brow, “I didn’t force you to follow me, Chaos. That’s on you.”

You didn’t reply. Opting to glare at him with hatred.

Luke appeared amused at your anger. He pushed his body off the rock and stalked up to you. His dark eyes captured your gaze as he stood before you. The Hermes boy towered over you, and you had to tilt your head up to see his face.

You didn’t realize how hard you were clenching your fists until you felt the familiar trickle of crimson blood staining your palms. Four crescent wounds adored your palms on each hand.

Luke noticed the small amount of blood seeping from your clenched fists. “You must really hate me.” He said, a smirk remaining on his face, “The feeling is mutual.”

You turn from him to take a deep breath, “I didn’t come here to discuss the obvious, Castellan.” You state. “In fact, I didn’t come here to talk at all.”

That moment you broke. Your walls of restraint crumbled, unleashing all your anger.

You punched Luke. You punched him hard, and you liked it. You were a volcano, rage erupting and flames lapping up anything in its path.

Luke stumbled back at the impact. He recovered quickly, standing tall as he spat blood from his mouth onto the ground. He loved this. Luke loved your rage, and he had no clue why. There was just something about the way your eyes darkened and the way you carried yourself that had Luke drinking in your anger. So instead of recoiling from your touch, he edged you on even more. “Come on, Chaos. That’s all you got? You're Pathetic.”

He obtained the reaction he was looking for. You lunged at him, and the force of your clenched fist came with you. You swung at his face again, but this time he caught your hand.

“Nuh uh, Chaos. Don’t ruin this pretty little face of mine, how else am I supposed to look at you?”

A growl of frustration rose from the back of your throat. Was this idiot seriously flirting with you right now? It seemed like with every passing second you had a stronger desire to permanently remove that perfect smirk adorning his lips. Hands finding his chest you pushed him down with all your power, tackling him to the ground.

Luke groaned as you set yourself over him, mimicking the same position from Capture the Flag. You reached for his arms to restrain him, but he constantly evaded your reach. You continued to go for his arms the height of his limbs forcing you to surge forward. When you finally reached his arms you relaxed, shifting back. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

Luke’s eyes captured yours as something new passed through them.

“If you wanted me on top of you, you should’ve just asked.” You prodded, but he seemed to snap at your words.

Luke pushed you down, snagging his limbs out of your grasp. He gripped your wrist and pulled you to the side, but it was to no avail. Your thighs were gripping his body, fighting to remain. You climbed over his chest, pushing your elbow down to his throat.

“Have I joged your memory yet, Castellan?”

He only groans in response as you move back.

Luke’s eyes are screwed shut, an unreadable expression falling over his face. “Stop moving.” He spoke breathlessly.

Your eyes widen

“What?”

He inhales sharply, “You heard me, Chaos. Stop moving.”

You freeze in place as Luke shoves you off of himself.

Your shock only increases as he stands, pulling you into his grip.

His eyes sweep over you, hair in disarray, shirt stained with dirt from the ground.

“Finally,” He breathes, “You listened.”

His words snap you out of your shock, as you go in for another blow. Luke anticipated this though. He caught your fist and twisted your arm around your back. A whine escaped your lips at the sudden pain.

“You’re always so dam (pun intended) stubborn. Always so hot-headed, it’s incredibly frustrating.” He spoke, pulling on your arm with more force.

“Luke,” You cry out. Silently begging for him to release you, even though you both knew you’d never voice your true meaning. Begging him to let you go would be admitting defeat, and you would never allow that.

“You want me to let go huh? Well, we both know the last time we fought you dislocated my shoulder. I couldn’t use it for days, probably drank more ambrosia than is even possible.”

Your body desperately fights against his, in an aim to free your arm. You try to escape his grasp, but his arms are wrapped securely around you. You involuntarily cry out again as Luke tugs your arm harder.

“Luke,” You whine more desperately this time.

He only allowed another one of his signature smirks to dress his face.

“Stop fighting me Chaos. I am the only victor of this camp. There’s no room for the both of us.” He said, voice hard and cold.

Luke shoved you to the ground pushing you down, but you do your best to resist, fighting against his grip.

“Do you want me to break this little arm of yours?” He asks, anger coating his tone.

You shake your head. The pain made your eyes water, as you spent all your energy holding them in. You didn’t understand why people liked the boy in front of you. He was a monster. Sure he was nice to the newbies, and he adored Annabeth, but to you, he was worse than the Typhon, who rendered all the gods almost entirely powerless. Maybe Luke had a nice side, but you were much more accustomed with the one before you.

“You’re quiet now, aren’t you? Never thought I’d see the day when Chaos, herself has nothing to say.”

You have always hated Luke Castellan. But in this moment you despise him with your entire being. He was humiliating you. He was taking away your glory. Piece by piece Luke was tearing it from you, and you were doing all you could to hold on to it.

During your fight with Luke, you had approached a riverbank. Your father could help you thought. Dad, I need you. You called for your father god of the seas, yet as Luke forced you to the ground you knew that no help would come from Poseidon. Either he didn’t hear or he didn’t care, either way, you are solely left to defend yourself. And as glory fades, embedding itself into Luke, you are desperate to take action.

As Luke pushed your body down harder you reasoned that you needed to act immediately. So without another thought you rolled to your side, slamming your body weight down on your arm in Luke’s hold. An intense crack was heard and instantly Luke tore his hands from you. You screamed in anguish as you fought the water forming in your eyes.

A long pause of silence filled the air between you and the Hermes boy.

“Chaos…” He spoke quietly. Something that almost sounded like worry filled his voice.

You didn’t care what Luke had to say. All that you could think of was peeling every ounce of his glory and bestowing it upon yourself. You wanted respect. You demanded it. You took a deep breath, standing upright. A dark chuckle fell from your lips, “You were right about one thing, Castellan. There’s no room for the both of us.”

Luke doesn’t make an effort to speak. He just stood there in shock. You were glad, though as you studied him, it appeared that hundreds of emotions passed his eyes, anger, confusion, hatred, but most of all concern.

You took another deep breath to hold in your suffering, but the sheer intensity of the pain was too much. As you opened your mouth, desperate for air to fill your lungs, you were met with nothing. You couldn’t feel anything besides the riveting pain travelling down your entire body. Your mind became fuzzy and your body was dizzy. Before you could even react, you were falling. Down, down, down. Your body went numb, and you were sure that you would’ve hit the ground with a concussion, if Luke hadn’t lunged forward, slipping his arms around you, and catching your fall.

----

A/n I had this all ready to publish, and then half of it like deleted itself...so if the second half of this part sucks, its cause I had to rewrite it in my anger.

Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant

[pandy-landy]

Modern AU where the foxes phone backgrounds are as follows:

Neil: For the longest time his background was the typical iPhone background cause he didn’t know how to change it. When he figures it out, he slaps his favourite pic of Andrew on there. It’s a professional photo taken from their pro team photographer of Andrew standing at the goal, leaning on his racket with his helmet sitting on the ground at his feet. He’s got some gnarly helmet hair and a bored look on his face, as usual.

Andrew: His Lock Screen is black. His Home Screen is Neil cuddling with the cats, smiling at the camera with a wide grin and closed eyes.

Renee: a Patel background (matching her hair) with ‘Corinthians 16:14. Do everything in Love.’

Kevin: a black screen with the quote “If you don’t play to win, don’t play at all” - Tom Brady (he is so alpha male)

Aaron: A picture of his beautiful girlfriend Katelyn. She is running from the camera, but turned to face it and laughing. Her hair is blowing all around and her skin shines under the sun. Andrew rolls his eyes every time he sees it (out of fondness for his brother finding love).

Dan: A photo of her and Matt, except it’s been cut in half to only show Matt

Matt: the same photo of him and Dan, except his has been cut to only show Dan. When they put their phones together, the photo is complete (awww)

Allison: Her fashion company’s logo. It’s pink and bedazzled and dramatic, all things Allison.

Nicky: his and Erik’s engagement photo of Erik down on one knee proposing, and Nicky grinning at him.

[taelophone]

Seashell Sweethearts

trigger warnings ; none ? making seashell mirror frames with your “summer roommate” Luigi <3

Surfer Boy! Luigi // masterlist // moodboard

During the hot and humid days of summer, there was no better way to spend your time than splashing around in water cold enough to freeze the blood in your veins. Normally, you’d be somewhere several kilometers out in the ocean or lounging about under the central air of your home— but spontaneity just happens to be your “roommate’s” middle name.

Somehow, he managed to pry you away from your frosty bowl of light and fluffy mango sorbet to go get seashells for a mirror his friend had sent him from Pinterest. After a little bit of convincing, sweet promises of a candy apple, and a “gentle and loving” chase around your beach house, you found yourself trekking the ivory sands in a flowy maxi skirt and a black and white striped bikini top in pursuit of unshattered seashells.

Luigi carried a little plastic shower basket full of shells that clicked and clacked with his steps, the gentle calcium colliding into each other as he plucked shell after shell from the dry sand.

“I like these types of shells…I think they’ll be easier to put on the mirror, too,” he murmured, plucking a cute little Banded Tun shell from the ground. 

“Do you know what kinda vibe you want the mirror to have? Like a color scheme? Also, what mirror are we gonna use?” you asked, sinking your teeth into the red hard sugar on the surface of the hydrating green apple.

“I think we should do something to match your room, actually. So maybe like neutral tones that match your furniture,” he smiled, sifting through the basket to make sure every found seashell looked like it would match your color palette.

“You have that mirror on your dresser, so I think we could add some shells to it if that’s cool with you,” he smiled, turning the spot and placing a hand at the small of your back to guide you back in the direction of your house.

“Yeah, actually that does sound cool. I have, like, some fake pearls in my craft box we can use too,” you nodded, toddling your way back home with Luigi as you chatted back and forth about some plans for your mirror.

You decided on a cute little white and seashell pink frame for your little round mirror, doing a little bit of running around the house, finding every tool and thingamabob you’d need to work on the mirror. Seashell glue, glitter, varnish, fake pearls, your mirror, and some rhinestones just for good measure.

“Alright, uhhh…” Luigi began, sinking to his knees on the living room floor as he began sorting through the shells and pearls to map out where each pearl and shell would go. “What do women call it…mermaidcore? Coastal core? Should we do like a coastal core type of vibe?”

“What do women call it is crazy…” you chuckled, joining him on the floor and helping map everything out alongside him. “I think we should freestyle it. Whatever happens, happens.”

He nodded, laying down on his stomach as he began applying a generous amount of glue to the bottom rims of each seashell before placing them down on the edge of the mirror’s frame. You filled in each inch of empty space like a puzzle, bedazzling the white wooden frame with a collage of sea currency, hermit crab homes, spherical teardrops, cheap glitter, and a glossy varnish to top everything off.

You babbled back and forth about nothing, talking about what you were gonna do after you finished decorating your mirror. Every now and again, your hands would brush against each other while placing the decor, sending tiny sparks of giddy euphoria shooting through your mind.

The scene was devastatingly uncharacteristic of you two— it was rare for you to spend so much time in the house together, considering Luigi insisted on staying outside like a puppy with the zoomies. His giggles were low and boyish, reminiscent of a cheeky little child playing to their heart's content as he admired his craft in the making.

The end result was gorgeous: a beautiful balance of coastal cutie and gnarly nautical as you added the final pearls to the mirror frame. It sparkled with both of your characters— Luigi’s wicked sense of wonder evident in the little pieces of coral and cracked calcium contrasting the subtle and feminine beauty of the light pink shells and perfectly rounded pearls.

“It’s pretty, like you!” he beamed, holding up the heavy, nautical-looking mirror that glimmered every time a shell caught the pale yellow sunlight from the window.

“Aw, thank you! I love this, this is actually so cool…”

“You’re welcome! This was fun, you should help me decorate my wallet,” he beamed, handing you the mirror for you to mull over with your adorable smile.

taglist ; @lorelaisg1lmore @flaca335 @7luvrs @fancyyanci @f4b111 @born444u @4ngelv4l @harrys0nlyange1

[robthegoodfellow]

whenever I see a post about corvid intelligence or crows befriending people I wanna write this scenario where Eddie accidentally earns the loyalty of Hawkins' crows. Like it starts with him tossing his leftover sandwich crusts at a few hanging around the trailer park, and then...

A squawking fracas woke him one morning, so obnoxious that he dragged himself outside to investigate—to chase away the mob of birds fighting over dibs at the dumpster, he assumed. Instead, he followed the noise to the rusted fence behind his uncle's place that'd been holding on by a corroded thread for years—until approximately ten minutes ago, when the racket started up. Beneath the fallen section of flaking chain links was a tangled lump of black feathers, beaked head poking through to bay at the air. Its comrades ducked and bobbed around it, pecking at the metal bars, but every tug only ensnared the trapped bird worse.

On reflection, rushing in with an oh, shit wasn't the best move—the crowd of hecklers launched to hover in the air, feinting at him in screeching chorus.

"I come in peace!" he cried, hunched under pleading hands. Kept one arm raised like he sported an invisible shield, one eye on the dive-bombers, and crouching low, groped at the snarl of metal on the ground.

One bomber dove for his face, veering to avoid a defensive swipe.

"I'm trying to help. Quit murdering me!"

The hecklers heckled. Tough crowd. Eddie grimaced, trying to get a grip that wouldn't also give him tetanus, and managed to lift the shorn links. Soon as it raised off the dirt, the squished feathers wriggled and twisted, yanking free with a rattle.

"See?" Eddie shouted, as the bolt of black shook itself and took to the air. "You're welcome. Now shut the fuck up!"

They didn't, but allowed him to escape back to his trailer unmolested.

He hadn't thought anything of it, until a few days later, when he found a small pile of shiny trash on his doorstep. Broken teeny-bopper bracelet, a crusty nickel, a bottle cap... and a guitar pick.

A squawk drew his attention to the pair of crows perched on the roof. Bending, Eddie grabbed the pick.

"This?" he said, waving it. "This is legal tender! Not the rest of this junk. Although..." He crouched to get a better look at the bracelet. "This does have its charms," he admitted.

The crows heckled. Eddie ignored them, fiddling to detach the dolphin, repurpose the clip to latch the plastic chain round his wrist. Liked the contrast—garish neons against his leather cuff, dark bands of brown and black.

"Fuck it, right?" He raised his fist, newly bedazzled, to salute the supplicants with some devil horns. "Rock and roll."

And from then on, he and the crows had an understanding. If they were making a racket within earshot, he'd go check if they needed help, and if they found something he might like, they'd leave an offering on the stoop. Highlights included a BIC lighter and a tattered twenty dollar bill. Once, he'd accidentally left his keys at the picnic table where he did business and barely had time to notice, patting his pockets with sinking realization, when they clattered to the pavement—just dropped from the sky.

"Ah, killer!" Relieved, he scooped them up, then put fist to palm and bowed his thanks to the crow alighting atop the van.

As a sign of respect, he'd started incorporating crows as part of his aesthetic: got some sick tattoos on his chest and forearm, had a growing collection of feathers he kept in a jar like a goth bouquet, added a couple silhouettes to perch inside the Os of the Corroded Coffin banner. Even designed a druid character with a crow familiar, which he kindly gifted to Gareth when his player got roasted beyond revival by a wyvern.

"You're like Snow White," Jeff joked, as Eddie pocketed a quarter, binning the rest of the stoop offerings. Jeff was crashing there for the weekend to escape divorce drama at home.

"Quid pro crow, man," said Eddie, shrugging. "Do them a solid and they'll get you back."

A pair of hecklers cawed from the roof. Ed flipped them the bird. They were his regulars, the ones he’d dubbed Statler and Waldorf.

Jeff paused, squinting at them, speculative. Then dug out a packet of half-eaten peanut butter crackers and tossed them up, one at a time. Cue the jubilant, cackling duet.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Eddie predicted, motioning him inside.

Didn’t know at the time how right he was—or how closely his crownies were following his movements around town, monitoring from on high. And not just his movements, but the people considered part of his “flock,” so to speak.

One day, Gareth and Jeff showed up for practice a little worse for wear, victims of the knuckle-draggers that populated the football team. Ripped shirt, bloody lip. The usual.

Unusual was the crowd gathered in the parking lot the next day, a baffled circle around the quarterback’s hot rod, which that morning gleamed red but at some point during school had been treated to a fresh coat of bird shit. White gooey splatters from hood to trunk.

It was a convertible. He’d left the top down.

And stuck to the windshield, like a calling card: a black feather.

Eddie was quick to corral the guys away, hushing all vengeful laughter until they were safely in the van, then they let loose. Jeff was wiping tears of mirth, wheezing: “You weren’t kidding, man.”

“Look,” Frankie cried, pointing out the windshield, and lo—Statler and Waldorf were perched on the wipers, joined by Damsel, so named because Ed was pretty sure it’d been the one he found in such distress, way back when.

As one, the band saluted their benefactors, and Eddie swore the birds puffed their chests, bobbing their heads in satisfaction.

From then on, it was swooping season for anyone who bothered him or the boys under the keen surveillance of those eyes in the skies.

But Eddie knew he’d gone beyond Disney princess status that summer. He was fooling around on the Warlock outside the trailer, unplugged, lounging in a lawn chair, humming under his breath—just some Ozzy, flying high again—when a sudden flapping weight dipped the neck of the guitar.

“You scratch this thing, I will murder you,” he warned, eying the pinchy talons gripping between the pegs. Damsel cocked its head, like oh, really? Eddie gently jerked the Warlock, a shooing motion, and the bird hopped with a huffy flutter onto his knee.

They stared each other down for a sec—a measuring stare. Almost daring. Some of the feathers around its neck stuck out all scruffy where the fence had bit into it, left a scar. Halting, hesitant, Eddie extended a finger, then his hand, nice and slow, intending to… give a scritch or something?

An inch away, the beak snapped at him, barely missed, and he jumped so hard the damn bird launched skyward, flapping to hover.

Behind them, he could hear the hecklers in hysterics.

“Bitch!” he shouted, clutching the Warlock close to calm his racing heart. “See if I ever save your scrawny necks again.”

Heedless, Damsel swooped to land on his knee—again. Like it knew full well he would. Save them. Again. If it came down to it.

“Calling my bluff,” he muttered, aggrieved. “Gonna make me eat crow?”

Statler and Waldorf voiced their displeasure.

“Fuck off! You love it.”

They did, was the thing. Eddie knew it. They’d thrown their lots in with him, and he with them. So in the end, he wasn’t so much a princess.

More an accessory to murder.

Also on AO3

[heywardsdoll]

pope hates bringing you with him on a pogue mission. but usually you cry your way into it, fat tears welling in your eyes as you tugged on his shirt. and all he needs to cave in is seeing your pretty pout, and the way your eyes shine with sadness.

"i don't want to be left out. i really don't pope," you whisper, folding your arms as you hope he understands. pope raises his eyebrows before you tug on his t-shirt again.

it's here that he looks away from you, "shit, you can't do that to me. seriously, you can't just do that!" then you sniffle, a sorry sound and he seems to sigh, shoulders caving in as he tries to look anywhere but you. "fine, fine. grab your coat on the way out, it's kinda chilly outside."

that's pope. no matter what, even if he was mad at you, he was taking care of you. he's glare, even scowl as he saw you get what you want—but then soon after he'd be tucking your shirt in, or getting you some water because hydration is important, it's even worse with the pogues because you look like a baby. it makes it seem like you couldn't take care of yourself, but you couldn't help but flush every single time he holds you in your arms, or places a careful kiss on your forehead.

he's thoughtful, and it's horrible when he corners you to secretly kiss you when you're on the way to find the cross. theres something so intimate about him whispering about purpose, and how he's finally got what his ancestors wanted him. it's that feverish emotion that makes you want to be there for him.

but there are too many close calls, from the time pope got stung by bees, to rafe following you a few too many times.

sometimes you work at the grocery store, checking in people's stuff, telling the old lady where she can find cornstarch, and then helping the little boy who cried about his red lolly getting lost under the shelves, (his brother had kicked it under there.) pope would always come to find you, all sweaty and tired before you hung your hands over his head and then kissed him softly.

but one time he came a bit too late, and rafe had been your last customer. there was a shit-eating smile on his face, as he smirked before placing a pack of mint gum on the counter.

"is that all?" you muttered, trying not to look him in the eye. pope had told you about the type of person rafe cameron was, and for all you knew he could do what he wanted to do, and could get away with it, a hundred times. no one in the store except him, and it was almost six o'clock.

"yeah, uh," he drawled pulling out his couple of bucks, "keep the change."

you nodded putting the money into the cash register, the small ding of the register calming as you touched your necklace protectively. it's stupid, you know, but the pink taser gun that pope had jokingly bedazzled sticks to your side as a reminder as you could feel his eyes on you. rafe dark eyes followed you as you shut the cash register, giving him a cold smile. your hands are sticky with sweat.

suddenly he's almost out of the door, and you let out a sigh of relief before you here his almost-bored voice drone out. theres snark in his comment.

"tell your boy we're watching him. shit, uh–and," rafe laughed, a boisterous sound before winking, "tell him to stay on the low. it's dangerous out here and you don't wanna get caught with anything, you know?" then he grins, before popping a piece of gum in his mouth, teeth shining bright and you couldn't help but shiver.

later that night, you were hyperventilating so hard, pope had to put his arms over you and kiss you repeatedly, soft and soothing. you have to keep reaching for him to tell yourself pope was fine, and that rafe was just threatening for no reason, and that you were being overbearing.

"he's sick, and he's twisted pope! i want to keep you safe. please, please stay safe," you choked out, your hands to your side as you walked in circles. you kept taking sharp breaths as pope tried to calm you down.

pope had sighed, "doll, i will stay safe, but i don't like that he's talking about this stuff to you. i want to keep you away from it, i mean when i met your mom—" then he cocks an eyebrow in your direction, but then stops right there. it's almost condescending, knowing where this is going to go. he's telling you not to come, but you have to go with him because you have to keep him safe. you can't lose him, you just can't.

"are you saying i shouldn't come with you guys anymore?" you whisper out, a sharp warning in your voice as you bit your lip. he had looked away from you, and then raised his hands in defeat and the conversation was over.

but here you were, laying in his lap in the twinkie. you were completely wiped out as pope ran a hand over your face. you murmur something under your breath before snuggling closer to him. jj lets out a low whistle, wiggling his eyebrows, only to get a disapproving look from pope.

"she got you under her paws, doesn't she?" jj crowed, and you stir as pope rolls his eyes, looking at john b for support. john b just smiles, giving pope a pointed look. it was true, pope would do practically anything for you.

then comes the serious sigh. pope's eyebrows are creased, as he absentmindedly rubs circles on your shoulder. you smile softly in your sleep, warm as ever.

quickly enough jj snaps his fingers in pope's face, "hey man, what the hell was that sigh about? all wistful and shit." jj muttered, a confused look on his face before shaking pope.

"i-," pope started, before shaking his head, "nah, it's stupid." he's still got his hands on you, playing with the string bracelet that you gave him. it was a old thing, practically falling apart, and jj made fun of it.

now it's jj's turn to snort, shoving pope with an indignant expression "you stupid? c'mon what's got your pretty head in a ditzy?"

"i don't know. john b back me up on this but, i don't like seeing my girl around this stuff. it kills me, to see her racing after the same danger as us," pope muttered, groaning as he looked away from your face, "and the other day rafe cornered her and she was scared shitless."

then he shakes his head, "and you know what, i should be protecting her from that sort of stuff, but no, no!" he grins but it's full of resentment, "no, i'm introducing her to it."

now this has the boys attention. jj gave pope a sympathetic look, patting him on the back as john b nodded. the playful demeanour of the conversation stirred into something else.

"i get it, man. we all want to keep her safe," john b said, his voice calm and reassuring. "but she's tough. she's stronger than you think."

"yeah, but it's not just about being tough," pope replied, face screwed up with frustration, toying with a lock of your hair. "i know she's tough! tougher than me sometimes. but it's about not wanting her to be exposed to this shit at all. she deserves better."

quickly john b sighed, hand on the wheel and it was almost as if his dark circles were more evident than ever.

"you think i don't worry about sarah?" john b countered, his tone soft but firm. "i worry about her all the time, but she made her choice to be with us, to face whatever comes our way. it's the same with your girl. she chose to be with you, to stand by your side, no matter the danger."

pope sighed again, his hand still gently caressing your shoulder. "i know, i just... i don't want to be the reason something happens to her."

"then keep doing what you're doing," jj interjected, his voice surprisingly gentle. "protect her, look out for her. but don't push her away. she's here because she loves you, man. she wants to be with you, even if it means facing danger."

pope nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at your peaceful face. "yeah, i know. it's just hard sometimes."

"it's hard because you care," john b said, offering a reassuring smile. "and that's a good thing. just don't forget to trust her, too. she can handle more than you think."

the conversation lulled as the twinkie rolled on through the night, the familiar hum of the engine a comforting background noise. pope could hear the birds chirp, and he settled his head on the window before getting up with a confused expression.

"shit, when did you guys get so smart?" pope groaned, "it was easier when i was surrounded by idiots,"

jj laughed, resting a hand on pope's shoulder. "took a page out of your book, maybe it's time you take a page out ours," he winked, nudging pope gently.

pope finally looked down at you, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as you stirred slightly, mumbling something in your sleep. and for what it was worth—pope smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently.

[tourturestarradio]

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Erik Lensherr x Fem! Mutant Reader x Charles Xavier

Prompt: You were a famous model, and performer everyone thought you were perfect. Everyone loved you, but if they knew what you were, what ugly secret you had hidden, all of that would go down the drain.

Warning: Kinda long, Mention of nudity (none sexual), sassy/mean reader at first, takes place during X-men : First class, (name) in stead of Y/n, slightly insecure reader

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Erik and Charles looked around at the people hurrying past, staring at the bedazzled door that had the woman's name written on a golden star.

Now if you're wondering what they were doing, they had sneaked their way backstage to a performance that you were the main event of, on Charles search for other mutants he had come across you had popped up in his mind.

So the two had searched for where to find you, but luck was on their side because you just so happened to be performing tonight, and they couldn't miss their chance so they had slipped through the chaos a funneled their way backstage.

As they were going to open the door a man with a clipboard came up to them "excuse me what are you doing?" he questioned looking at them suspiciously but obviously preoccupied with the people calling for him.

Charles thought for a moment "we were making a delivery for Miss (Name)" the man looked both of them up and down before someone was calling him again, shoving a bouquet of flowers into Eriks arms he hurried past them "well give those to her, they're from her husband boyfriend or whatever he is to her" he saying rushing away.

Erik looked at the waddling man in annoyance but Charles spoke up "well at least we have a reason to go in there now." he grinned, but Erik looked unamused "right, let's just get this over with" he muttered, Charles knocked on the door and heard a quick and sharp "enter." opening the door Charles and Erik were shocked to see you seated at a vanity desk top-less.

You were sitting doing your make-up you stopped and looked at them through the reflection of the mirror "Did you come here to stare or did you need something?" You asked raising a brow.

Charles and Erik straightened up "we came to uh drop this off, but we needed to talk with you." you turned around and stood up both Charles and Erik looked away grabbing the flowers a tiny smile graced your stone cold face.

You looked at them both "oh? Listen whatever you're here for I don't do, maybe one of the hookers down the street might do the job." you stated placing the flowers down. Charles shook his head "oh, no it's nothing of that matter." he reassured.

You blinked in surprise about to say something, but a quick knock stopped you "Miss (name), you're on in two minutes!" the voice called out, quickly you snatched up two pasties quickly putting them on you gave a quick flick making sure they didn't come off.

"Hand me that please" you said pointing to a thin pink robe Charles handed it to you and you wrapped it around you "I'll talk with you after" picking up a pair of pink and white feather fans you rushed out the room before either Erik or Charles could get a word out.

Standing there stunned Erik and Charles let out a sigh, but the door opened up and you popped your head in "get out. Either wait outside of my dressing room or watch the show." you stated before shutting the door.

Erik and Charles walked out of the room "she's quite fierce." Charles commented.

-★-

Charles grew curious and wanted to watch your performance Erik reluctantly followed along and watched the performance to which they weren't very disappointed, it looks like you were so well regarded for a reason.

After your entertaining show Erik and Charles had went to find you backstage again. Erik leaned over "all this trouble she'd better have an impressive power." he muttered.

Knocking on your door, it only took a few seconds before you opened the door "oh right, come in. But make it quick." You stated, letting them in Charles and Erik sat down, you wiped off your makeup "what did you need, well first who are you?" you asked, "I'm Charles Xavior" Charles stated placing his hand out for you to shake.

But you didn't shake his hand "and you are?" you say glancing at the other male through the mirror "Erik Lensherr" he said simply, you took note of their names "well i'm sure you know who I am" you hummed.

Charles nodded "well we heard you had a special ability." you seemingly tensed up, looking at them you glared "look whatever you heard is a lie." you stated sharply, Charles and Erik looked confused by your words.

"Don't worry-"

'We're like you as well'

A voice spoke inside of your head, you looked at Charles slowly shaking your head as you reached to grab your make up bag when your hand stopped the metal bracelet around your wrist moving towards Erik.

Slapping your hand over your bracelet. You shook your head "no, no you aren't like me. I-I'm not...." you gulped, Erik tilted his head "you don't have to hide who you are" he said.

"No, i'm not like you. I'm not a mutant." you spat seemingly growing nervous, "you don't need to be scared (Name)" Charles said, peeking into your mind.

'Should I trust them?....No they'll think i'm ugly, horrorfing even....how did they know i've never told anyone.'

Erik looked at you "you're scared...aren't you?" he spoke, you looked at him your stern and calm demeanor melted away into one fear "I...I've never told anyone...so how do you know?" you say standing up quickly now on edge.

"I'm a telepath, Erik and I are looking for Mutants we're forming a team." Charles explained, shaking your head 'no' you pointed towards the door "i'm not joining any team of any kind so get out. This conversation is over" you glared, Charles now also stood up "but-"

"I said no. Now get out both of you-" clutching at your chest a painful prick went through your body as you doubled over, Charles walked over "are you alright-" you swatted him away "get out!" you shouted.

Just as Erik was about to step in your door opened and a man with a suit came in "what the hell is going on?" Charles and Erik looked at the man knowing their chance for speaking was over.

Charles subtly placed a card with his number and address on it before they were both forced out of the room.

"Well that could have gone better." Erik remarked, Charles didn't say anything as he was seemingly upset to which Erik noticed "don't think too much about it she's probably had to hide her true self for so long she's forgotten who she really is. A mutant." 

-★-

A few days had passed and Charles was still thinking about you, wondering why you were so frightened usually any other mutant would jump at the prospect of other mutants showing themselves. But you. Your mind, you were so scared. 

And he wanted to know why?

But before he could think any further on it Raven had popped her head into his room "you will never guess who's outside right now!" Charles sat up "who?" he questioned "(Name)! I didn't know she knew you." getting up Charles went outside and saw you standing there looking more than upset.

"Lovely to see you again...Fully clothed this time" he joked seemingly trying to cheer you up. You ignored him though "I...I need to talk to you okay." you said.

He nodded walking back inside the building with you following close behind him. You looked around seemingly nervous, going into his office area you sat down a sad look in your eyes.

"Well would you like to tell me what's on your mind or do you want me to read it?" Charles asked, You shook your head "I...I'm a mutant." you stated, Charles nodded "yes I know." he said leaning back on his desk.

"But I...I hate my mutation."

"And who taught you to hate it?" Erik asked, walking into the room.

"My-my parents....they were the only people who knew about it." You muttered, Erik sat next to you "are they mutants?" he asked, you shook your head simply "they said it was ugly, no one would like me if they knew what I was. So they did everything they could to make sure I never showed it" you explained, "they tried to pretend I didn't have it." You added.

Erik cocked his head to the side "what is your mutation?" he asked, you sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to describe it...i'll just show you." you hummed taking off your coat you slid off your shirt turning so your back faced them.

A thin line appeared across your back before it started to separate sharp and crooked teeth lined the inside of the now gaping mouth, rows of sharp teeth moved ever so slightly Erik and Charles stared at your back in awe.

A giant mouth.

There was a giant mouth on your back, two smaller lines appeared appeared on your back as well opening two eyes looked back at them blinking in curiosity staring at the two men in front-well behind you.

Their silence made you self conscious as you attempted to pull you coat back on but you heard Erik mutter "magnificent."

"You don't find me-creepy?" you asked turning your head to face them, both Charles and Erik shook their heads "no." "never"

Erik reached to touch your back but you called out "I wouldn't-" but before you could blink a long thin tongue shot out from the center of the mouth wrapping around his arm yanking him towards the mouth.

"Oh no! stop that! I'm sorry I don't have very good control over this!" you closed up the mouth the tongue let go as the mouth closed up and the line disappearing as if there was nothing there.

Putting your shirt back on you turned around "I must say that is quite impressive." Charles said, you gulped "well I'm glad you two think it's great, but my husband didn't" you say sitting down.

Erik frowned "is that why you're here?" he asked, you looked away "after you two left I thought about it, I thought I could tell him, that he would accept it...but he just...." you quickly wiped away your tears.

Erik came closer to you "he's a human, it wouldn't matter what type of mutation you had." he sighed, "he still would think less of you. But you're with us now, there's no need to hide it anymore." he stated.

You waved him off "but if people find out about this, I-I could lose everything! Everything I worked so hard for" you say clenching your fist.

Erik and Charles understood your fear but Erik was annoyed by how much you worried about what other people thought. He leaned forward "if they really loved you, it wouldn't matter if you were a mutant" he stated.

"No I'm supposed to be a star, I have to be perfect. I mean people look up to me, but this?! They'll never like me, they'll think i'm a monster-" you hunched over again gripping at your chest teeth starting to poke out.

Charles put a hand on Erik's shoulder moving him back "alright, just calm down." you glanced at him "sorry it just flares up when I get overwhelmed or upset" you explained. Erik leaned back "so what exactly can you do?" he asked, changing the subject around.

You looked at them looking in curiosity "well the mouth thing kinda appears when I want it to, or in self defense but if I eat something it get's sent to a pocket dimensions and I can store things in it, but if I have too much I can throw it back up. throw something at me" you explain while lifting your shirt, Charles picked up a coffee mug and tossed it your way.

Your chest opened up the thin tongue shot out and wrapped around the coffee mug and pulled it back toward the mouth the teeth closing it in seemingly swallowing it.

Charles and Erik looked at each other then back at you "wow, so do you have a limit on what you can eat?" you shook your head "I can eat borderline anything." you said, Charles smiled "so how big of objects can you eat?" he asked.

You dragged your eyes away "well I ate a chair once so I think that speaks for itself" Erik lightly smirked "well that's interesting." he commented.

Reaching your hand into your chest mouth you seemingly felt around to find something pulling the coffee mug out you placed it on the desk.

Sitting back down you frowned "it isn't quite helpful" you shrug, Charles sighed at your pessimistic attitude "well we can help train you, but before we get you physically strong, you need to get mentally stronger." he said tapping your forehead.

"Well first, do you think....do you think I get something to eat?" you asked, Charles nodded "yes of course follow me"

-★-

Charles stared at the pile of food in front of you, "didn't mean to take so much but, she can get pretty hungry" you said patting your stomach. Charles waved you off "please help yourself" he hummed, Charles half expected you to eat the food yourself but the mouth had opened up but it was much smaller, still as aggressive though.

Charles watched as you fed the mouth a few questions popping up in his mind "why feed it? is it sentient?" he asked, you tilted your head "well I don't really know...I mean she feels hunger but I've always fed her since I was younger, in secret though" you hummed, Charles subtly scooted closer to you "why's that?"

You looked away "…she ate a lamp…" you muttered in embarrassment, Charles eyes widened in shock "what?!" he chuckled, "it's not funny!" Charles tried to hold in his laughter but it was futile.

"Do you know how hard it is to cough up a lamp?" You asked taking a bite of your food, after his laughter died down he leaned his body back onto the table "your ability...it is much more special than you think" he stated, you glanced over "yeah right..." you mumbled, Charles walked up to you tilting your chin to look up at him from where you were seated "I mean it (name), your special" his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, you gulped.

Before you knew it your tongue wrapped around his throat "oh! sorry!" you shouted, trying to close your chest up Charles tapped into your mind to calm you down.

'Damn it girl! Really?! You almost got a kiss and you ruined it! Let go!'

"Be calm"

Your body relaxed and your mind calming back down and your chest closed back up, you stood up quickly "I'm gonna go now." you state hurrying out of the room Charles chuckling watching you go.

-★-

Erik stood in front of you "again." using his powers he tossed a metal chunk at you, your tongue reached for it but Erik moved it out of your reach and again your tongue tried to grab at it.

You and Erik had been at this for a few hours now but you were getting nowhere, and you were hungry, like really hungry. Your control over your ability was starting to slip.

"Come on again, this time try." Erik stated, you glared at him "I am trying." you spat, Erik raised a brow "are you?" he questioned, his tone annoying you "yes I am" you grumble the teeth in your actual mouth sharpening which didn't go unnoticed by Erik.

"What was the point of coming here for help if you aren't going to take this serious?" he asked, you frowned "I am taking this serious, I've never had to use my powers before. So this'll be a little tough" you huffed, Erik only rolled his eyes at your statement.

"Alright, again." he used his powers to move the metal ball again but as your tongue shot out to grab it the tip expanded out like a net and wrapped around the ball and going back into your chest.

"Well that's new..." you muttered.

Erik smirked but was also intrigued by your new tongue, for reference your tongue looked like the underside of a vampire squid.

"I'm gonna go eat" You grumbled walking away Erik watching you go but to his surprise he felt the metal ball smack the back of his head turning around he saw it drop on the ground.

He looked back to you before following you "how'd you do that?" he asked, you looked confused "do what?" you asked, Erik used his ability to bring the metal ball over to you "I mean I spat it out, but I thought it would land behind me or something?" you say cocking your head to the side.

Erik thought for a moment "hm, maybe when you concentrate hard enough you can teleport whatever object out in a specific area. That'll be something to try later" he explained, you grinned "I get to potentially throw things back out at you? I might just take you up on that offer" you chuckled.

Erik looked seemingly unamused but under that scowl his heart softened, he knew you were slowly starting to get more comfortable in your own skin, and with your mutation.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I might write more for this idk whatever, Sorry if readers mutation was kinda hard to follow, or if the descriptions were confusing. It's loosely based off of muzan's final form from demon slayer, but with my own little spin. I LOVE ERIK AND CHALESS AHHHHHHHHHHH anyway hope you enjoyed, have a good day/night.