#just look at it and pretend the colors match and that its pretty

[dagonyang]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUN (template) #OurBundleOfLoveTAEHYUN

[meadowfics]

shop until we drop

cho hyun-ju x f!reader (ex-miltary reader)

shopping with your girlfriend headcannons

you've been with your girlfriend, hyun ju, for about two years now.

in thailand, the both of you built a wonder yet comfortable life.

the both of you moved in together just three months after the both of you became official.. is that fast? sure. however, you trusted this woman with your life.

it helps that she served in the special forces back in korea. it helps that you have military experience from your home country as well.

one morning, you were bored. super bored.

hyun ju laid peacefully in bed, her pink satin pajama's (which matched your purple ones) making her look as comfortable as she really was.

you played with her hair, hoping that it will distract you into going back to sleep.

it did not.

suddenly, you looked over at your open closet door.

its filled with clothes that you and hyun ju share together. mostly pink and purple colors due to hyun ju, and neutral colors because of you.

"I need more clothes.."

a thought ticks inside of your head.

at first, you shook it off. you're bored, thats all.

hyun ju and you have a lot of money.. her winning the squid games back in korea and you winning the squid games back in your home country.. you could go shopping anytime.

maybe you can today.

in the late afternoon, you brought hyun ju to the mall.

hyun ju is the kind of girlfriend who insists on holding your hand the entire time you're walking through the mall. the woman's grip is firm but gentle, as if she's silently promising to never let go.

she weaves your fingers together, swinging your hands lightly between you both, her small smile growing every time you glance her way.

the both of you are stopped in front of a makeup store at one point.

you catch her stealing little glances at you when she thinks you're too distracted by the window displays.

every time she gets caught, she grins sheepishly and squeezes your hand, saying,

"you're just too pretty to not look at."

"you're too beautiful, hyunnie."

shopping with hyun ju always starts with her saying she's just there to "browse," while you do the actual shopping

you both know that's a lie. hyun's eyes light up when she spots cute clothes, immediately holding them up against you to see if they'll suit you.

"you’d look amazing in this. try it on, please?"

when you go into the fitting rooms, hyun ju insists on sitting outside to be your personal hype woman.

the moment you step out, she gasps dramatically, clapping her hands together like you're walking the runway.

"i knew it! you’re stunning. we’re getting that one, no arguments."

the food court is one of her favorite stops after a few stores.

she insists on sharing everything, saying it tastes better that way.

you end up feeding her bites of your food while she pretends to look surprised, like she wasn’t waiting for it the whole time.

after moving onto the next store, you insist on buying hyun ju nearly everything.

every time you point out something you think she’d like, she acts all nonchalant, but you see the way her eyes soften.

"this blue would look so perfect on you love, it goes with your hair color."

as the day winds down, she insists on carrying all the bags, claiming it’s part of her girlfriend duties. when you protest, she smirks but still continues to hold them.

"I know you have 'special forces' arm strength, but I served in the military in my country too.. you know?"

"just let me hold the bags for you, sweetheart."

as you head home, her hand finds yours again, her thumb rubbing small circles against your skin.

"I had fun today love, thank you for coming."

hyun ju laughs,

"you do not need to thank me, I'll always be wherever you are."

I hope you loved this as much as I did :)

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

TGCF couples at the beach

Because i want to go to the beach so bad rn

HuaLian:

Hua Cheng isnt too fond of the sun or the water but gege said he'd like to go so they're going.

Everything is fancy and luxurious, only the best for gege.

A large beach bed with a canopy, drinks and snacks served at all times, the whole nine yards.

He wears those fancy sunscreen lotions with foreign names cause he may be dead but he also burns easily and turns into a big baby about it.

Xie Lian insists they dont need to do all that and can just chill in the sand with a towel, which Hua Cheng finds preposterous.

They have a big ass umbrella over the canopy bed too cause the sun is a deadly laser.

So much affection - cuddling, kissing, being all sweet and lovey, feeding each other watermelon and gathering seashells

Theyre sickeningly sweet

Hua Cheng is able to keep his hands to himself for about 5 seconds max

If there are any noisy kids or families around, Hua Cheng sends Yin Yu to scare them off

(They take Yin Yu with for this express purpise but hey free all inclusive vacation, a win is a win)

Xie Lian never burns ever and refuses to wear sunscreen. Hua Cheng pouts about it because 1) dont want gege to get a sunburn and 2) cant teasingly rub lotion over him smh

Hua Cheng builds one of those fancy sand statues of Xie Lian and he thinks its the most romantic thing ever

It is

So many kisses in the water and swimming together all lovey

Hua Cheng is never seen not drinking a margarita

"You do not need to keep your swim trunks that low, San Lang." "Gege, tan lines are terrible."

BeefLeaf

SQX cant get He Xuan out of the water once they arrive to the beach. Nope. That is his habitat now. He belongs to the fishes.

SQX rents out beach chairs by the bar because how can one tan without a drink in hand?

Skimpy swimsuits because SQX also abides by the tan lines are the devil mentality

Manages to get He Xuan out of the water with the promise of ice cream

Talking shit about everyone around while eating ice cream and drinking martinis

So many seashells. He Xuan gives them to SQX as an offering aw

"XuanXuan you cant drown people that say indecent things about me!" "Who says" "the law??"

He Xuan brings SQX little fish he catches if they look colorful or pretty

"XuanXuan, put some tanning oil on my back!" And He Xuan spends like 10 mins trying to find the correct bottle because SQX brought like 50 and the tanning oil SQX wants looks like literally every other bottle there

So many selfies

He Xuan digs tunnels in the sand whenever he isnt in the water. SQX has to talk him into not using the Earth Master shovel

Theyre checking out hot people together

He Xuan puts on sunglasses to pretend he isnt staring at SQX

"XuanXuan you cant throw jellyfish at children!!"

SQX flirts their way into free drinks and He Xuan broods about it but also he is deeply in debt so he can't turn down free shit lmao

FengQing

Arguing, so much arguing, but hey thats their love language

"Thats a shit spot for a towel" "okay find a better one then" "here!" "Thats like a foot away whats the difference??"

Feng Xin refuses to put on sunscreen cause he thinks its not manly

"You cant beat the fucking sun, Feng Xin!"

Mu Qing refuses to get his hair wet. Feng Xin makes it a point to dunk him in the water at least once

Feng Xin falls asleep in the sun like an old man and Mu Qing draws dicks on him with sunscreen lmfao

They argue about who goes to get drinks and snacks and just end up going together

Feng Xin insists to exclusively drink beer until he tries one of Mu Qing's deadly cocktail combinations and hes hooked. He insists they add a little umbrella to his drink now so he and Mu Qing match

Sand castles competition turned chasing into the waves turned underwater kisses

Mu Qing judges everyone and Feng Xin cant help adding in to the commentary because its surprisingly entertaining

Beach sports! Theyre so competitive too so its extra fun and they make bets over everything

[pomefioredove]

Heyyy um. “Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with. epel. hes so accidental confession…..

epel IS so accidental confession... ur so right

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: epel additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, pre-book 5

It had already been a long day.

It isn't that he thinks you're going to make it worse; no, if anything, you're probably the only person who'd make it better.

It's just that Epel doesn't want you to see him like... this.

"Well... it's an improvement," Vil sighs, putting his hands on his hips.

"Now, don't move. I'll be back with proper shoes."

Epel scratches at his collar like a dog in a cone. He didn't even know you could find bows in this size.

At least it's over. For now.

Soon, he can sulk back to his room and pretend to practice for the audition thing Vil had been pestering him about for weeks.

Maybe take a nap while he can.

"Oh, my..."

The sound of the door grabs his attention, and for a brief second, Epel is terrified that it's Rook coming to tell him how the color of his bow matches his eyes.

No. It's much, much worse.

"Rook said I might find you here," you're clearly holding back a smile. Epel glares.

"I toldja- I told you I was busy today,"

"Yeah, you seem really busy,"

This is a nightmare. It has to be.

Vil and Rook and all the pampered fancy students in this dorm can humiliate him all they like, he's got nothing to prove to them.

But you?

"I-I couldn't get out of it, alright?" he huffs. "We're experimenting with styles."

You laugh at that. If he were in a better mood, he might have joined you. It does sound ridiculous.

"Well... this one isn't flattering,"

You make an attempt to ruffle his hair, and he grabs your wrist. There's a warm feeling in his face that's threatening a blush, which is the very last thing he needs right now.

He wants you to think he's tough, after all.

"I know," he says. "I didn't have any say in the matter, alright?"

You grin. Damn it. You're insufferably pretty.

Usually, that's something he likes about you. But now?

You get a little closer, and your hands close around either sides of the bow. "I know. Let me..."

He can feel that damn blush on his cheeks and he turns to hide his face.

You loosen the tight hold of the tie, and let it come apart in your hands, smiling.

"Better...ish," Damn, damn it.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. He's making a complete fool of himself, and he knows it.

You do, too. "Don't be embarrassed- it wasn't that bad,"

It was.

"It was almost dashing,"

It was not.

"Vil has good taste, I'll give him that,"

Epel looks back up at you, jealousy rearing its ugly head.

You're supposed to be his friend, his... something. His.

"Why don't you go hang out with him, then, if you like him so much?" the bitterness in his tone is obvious. You raise an eyebrow.

"...I didn't say-"

"Just- stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell outta you!"

There was a part of Epel that really wanted it to sound strong. Manly. Aggressive, maybe? No, just strong.

The rest of him didn't mean to say it at all.

But it ended up sounding romantic anyway. Even you were taken by surprise. The conversation falls flat.

The, you grab one of his hands, and-

The door opens again.

"You again," Vil says dryly, his eyes first burning into you, and then to the discarded bow on the floor, then to the shared embarrassment on your faces.

He sighs.

"I am going to pretend as if I don't know what's happening here. You- out. Epel, you are excused. This is enough for one day,"

You give Epel one last look, but before he can feel guilty for getting you in trouble, he catches a smile on your face.

After the door is closed, he follows.

"Wait,"

He tenses in the doorway, and turns to his housewarden, who already looks exhausted.

"Let me make myself very clear," Vil says, hands on his hips.

"You are capable of making your own decisions- but I will not tolerate any fooling around on my time. Understood?"

Epel nods. For once, he can't even disagree.

The last thing he wants is to be interrupted again, after all.

[urlovebot]

11:32pm

Jake couldn't help but admire how pretty you looked while talking up his friends. Tonight you both were sat in a booth on the terrace of a wine bar, the party as whole more tipsy than anyone would like to admit.

Jake takes the time to admire your pretty little outfit. He thinks the color dress you chose matches your skin tone so well that he cant help but feel his cheeks heat up. He wants you. right now. he takes one hand and presses it to your thigh, the other coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear as you continue conversing with his friends.

you take a bit of a break, looking back to see jake flashing his million dollar smile. you give him a quick kiss and turn back around to continue doing the conversating as it was clear that Jake was going to be of no use.

Jake licks his lips. he needed to figure out how to get you the fuck out of this bar and on to his bed. he scoots closer to you, the hand on your thigh inching up, breath fanning at the back of your neck. he looks around, scanning the crowd to make sure there were no peaking eyes. as soon as he confirms safely, he presses a kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

"Y/n..."

the scratchiness of his voice makes your thighs rub together. you muster up the courage to respond,

"yes jaeyun?"

"lemme take you home," jakes hand begins to shimmy its way in between your thighs.

"stop playing, we are out with your friends."

jake scoffs and continues to move his fingers deftly up your thighs, now reaching the outline of your panties,

"I'd fuck you in front of them too but i figured you'd be more comfortable in our bedroom."

You turn around, scandalized. cheeks red and jaw just about on the floor. jake sees this and giggles, reaching to close your mouth,

"careful baby, you'll catch flies."

"Jake I'm serious. let me socialize in peace."

jake pretends to think about it and then sits back with a sigh, hand now moving up and down your thigh.

he ponders more on how to get you into his bed. at this point he's nearly salivating. you have a pretty vivienne westwood choker on and it's making him dizzy. he sits up again to whisper in your ear,

"c'mon baby, let me take care of you, hmm?" jake softly kisses your earlobe.

you sigh in contentment, letting jake continue his ministrations,

"don't you want me to make you feel good? stretch you out? make you cum?"

jake is now leaving kisses behind your ear and down your neck. it's a miracle nobody's noticed.

you sigh again, a slow nod forcing its way out. jake jumps up and announces that you guys are gonna have an early night in. after some swift goodbyes, you are walking out of the bar, jake bouncing as he walks.

he walks behind you with his hands pressed against your stomach, whole body pressing against you to hide how hard he is,

"Y/n i swear to god i'm gonna let you ride my face for hours."

you giggle in return, swatting at his hands. secretly you hoped he meant it.

And mean it he did.

you'd gotten home an hour ago, stripping clothes starting at the door, heavy petting through the kitchen, fucking the first round out in the hallway, the second round on the edge of the bed, and now you're hovering over jake's face.

Jake kisses where he can reach on your thighs trying to coax you into relaxing.

"Y/n, baby, I know you're nervous but if i die i promise i'll die a happy and content man."

"you're so fucking unserious sim."

you begin to climb off when jakes hand grabs you by the thigh,

"you tryna take this pretty pussy away from me?"

his hands move up to your hips, guiding you back over his mouth.

"sit y/n."

your legs shake out of nerves. you'd never sat on a mans face before out of fear of suffocating them and your previous partners we're never great at giving and would much rather be on the receiving end. Jake, however, was a giver. Jake loved to give. jake would eat your pussy all day long if you'd let him.

"Please baby, sit on my face."

Jake looks up at you with puppy eyes and you cant help but give in. As you lower yourself down jake whimpers out, mouth in search of your cunt before you are fully situated.

After 15 minutes, jake has made you cum twice, refusing to let you up until hes covered in you.

"jake- please baby"

jake hums and continues moving his tongue in and out of you, thumb circling your clit.

"I'm too sensitive."

you try and push his head away. jake grunts,

"one more baby. please give me one more."

"jaeyun..."

Jake looks up at you, pupils blown wide, cheeks red and lips glossy.

"I need it angel, just one more for me."

You think on it for a second. your legs are sore and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

"My thighs hurt."

jakes eyebrows raise in concern,

"You wanna stop?"

you quickly shake your head no- as sore as you were there was nothing quite as hot as pussy drunk jake. your first two orgasms he mightve been moaning more than you.

jake begins to kiss at your thighs, massaging them.

"tell me you want to keep going. I'll flip you over and bury my head between your thighs so that you won't have to lift a finger, but i need you to tell me you want it."

your stomach swirls delightfully,

"I want it."

jake gives you a boyish grin,

"'Atta girl."

[killerlookz]

Joost Klein x Goth!Gf Headcannons

content: SFW and NSFW headcannons below the cut, 18+ MDNI, this work contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

SFW Headcannons

You're pretty much his personal makeup artist now, anytime he wants to do his fun little facepaint looks (like the mime or kiss makeup) you're the first one he's asking to help him out

He absolutely doesn't mind you kissing him with your lipstick on and is in no rush to wash off the dark-colored lipstick prints you leave on his cheeks after you do so, sometimes letting them sit there for hours while he goes about his day.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love going to the goth clubs. It's definitely a different speed than he's usually used to, and some of the music may be a little slow for his taste but that man just absolutely loves dancing and the nightlife in general.

He definitely dresses up to "fit in" to go to the goth clubs too! Putting on whatever black items he can find in his closet, usually a pair of rugged black jeans adorned with a thick belt either studded or with a big buckle and some black shirt he spent far too much money on. He usually ends up looking more like he's about to join Opium or Drain Gang than he does goth, but your heart entirely melts at the fact that he's trying.

You absolutely inspire him to buy a pair of New Rocks (side note im actually surprised ive never seen him in new rocks they're very his style lol) and he just absolutely towers over you in them, which he finds very amusing (cue him teasing you about being "short" even though the platforms of those shoes are like 10 cm, making him like 198 cm/ 6'5)

If you are wearing big shoes and they start to hurt he will absolutely carry you back to wherever you need to go- The same goes for if you're breaking in new shoes- you're out and about together and all of a sudden you start treading behind him, walking awkwardly due to the blisters forming on your heels and the backs of your ankles- and he knows, you don't even have to say anything, he just stops dead in his tracks, and bends down for you to get on his back.

Thrifting/ DIYing dates!!! It becomes a tradition for the two of you to go out to thrift/consignment stores and pick out pieces for the two of you to style or DIY into something. He loves it especially when you DIY things for him, and always shows off the clothes/accessories you put together for him, "Oh you like my necklace? Yeah, my girlfriend made it for me."

He laces up your corsets for you! No longer do you need to struggle trying to reach behind your back to tie your corsets. He's always so delicate about it too, "You're sure I'm not squeezing you too tight?" Running his hands all along your sides and your hips after he finishes tying it shut.

He definitely just thinks you are so cool, despite having his own unique style himself, he is just in so much awe of you being yourself, and just genuinely finds you to be the coolest person on Earth, whether its the way you do your makeup, or dress, or the music you listen to, he's just obsessed.

He'll absolutely tease you a little bit though, cue him singing "Because toniiiight will be the noiiight that I will fall for yewwww over agaiiiin" at you because he knows it pisses you off *just a little* you'll chastise him for that being emo not goth, but he still finds it funny regardless, and he loves seeing that little smile you give him when you're trying to pretend to be mad at him, but really you're holding back a laugh

He loves when you wear his necklaces or his fancy belts to accessorize with

Getting tattoos together is a muuuust, he's not so into the idea of matching tattoos, but just spontaneously on a whim being like, "hey do you wanna get another tattoo today?"

NSFW Headcannons

You CANNOT count how many new fishnet tights you've had to buy from Joost being far too impatient to get you undressed, bending you over, lifting up your skirt and just ripping the flimsy fabric open, not even bothering to take them off of you.

However, when the sex is more romantic he absolutely loves taking his time with you, so delicately removing each of your layers (and us goth girlies know... we wear a looot of layers lmaoo) he just loves being all sensual about it, he also just for sure enjoys teasing you with how excruciatingly slow he is about it.

Loves seeing how much he can ruin your makeup, whether its smudged lipstick or eyeliner dripping down your face, the messier the better.

In addition to fucking up your makeup he loves when you go down on him while you're wearing lipstick, the way your lipstick smears as you take him in your mouth, god he finds it so hot.

Obsessed with when you wear leather or latex!! Oof the way the tight, shiny material hugs your body, he cannot get enough, and honestly is ready to take it off of you the second you slip it on.

He absolutely adores you in lace too (especially black lacey lingerie) when you wear lacey tops with nothing but a bra underneath... (same can be said for a fishnet top) oooooh girl he is absolutely feral, the way you're technically "covered" but still exposed in all the right spots... whew

If you have long/pointy nails he looves feeling you dig them into him as he fucks you,

Whenever the two of you go out to the goth clubs things definitely get very steamy, always ending up with his arms wrapped around your waist and your ass pressed against his crotch as your bodies move together to the dark, slow, synthy music.

He loves it when you bite him! Always calling you his little vampire as you suck on his neck, leaving pretty little lovebites and lipstick smudges on his skin. (vampire/blood kink goes brrrr wait what who said that hAHAHHAHHA)

Fucking to goth music is a MUST... not sorry about it, bands like Depeche Mode and She Wants Revenge are top tier sex music, him mumbling along to Tear You Apart, his lips pressing into your neck, sending vibrations down your spine as he slowly undresses you.

Also fucking while watching horror movies hehehehe, there's just something about the suspense and tension that gets your blood going, one second you're watching the TV anxiously, and the next second he's on top of you as you're begging for him to please fuck you.

[hwayangyeon]

NSFW ex bf actor heeseung x actress reader // you meet heeseung during met gala and he fucks you in the bathroom // a lot of teasing, mirror sex, bathroom sex, public sex kinda // 1.3k words

pt.2 here!! & pt.3 here!!

you sat at the beautifully decorated table, next to other beautifully decorated tables. more and more people started entering the hall and taking their seats. thankfully the chairs at your table were still empty, it gives you some time to check the nameplates and, if you come across an unknown surname, look up the person's instagram profile.

you looked to your right, the small paper read "rina sawayama". great, you like her music. it might be like last year when you were the only actress at your table.

you looked to your left, moved the card to see its front, and– "FUCK!" you exclaimed, probably too loud which granted you a few glances from other celebrities.

fucking lee heeseung will be fucking sitting next to you. who assigned those fucking tables?

actors are all sorts of people - rude, kind, bossy, hardworking, or totally insufferable to work with. heeseung was the last type.

the thing is, he wasn't a bad actor. if he was, your paths wouldn't cross so often. it was his attitude, his cockiness that angered you so much. there was this one movie you both starred in where you had to kiss, and he kept making up excuses to reshoot the scene because he knew how much you hate kissing him, given your dating history from high school.

"happy to see me?" you heard a whisper in your ear. it didn't shock you, you knew that voice too well. you would be lying if you said it didn't send a shiver down your spine, though.

"wish i didn't have to," you took a sip of wine from your glass, "this is your doing, am i right?"

"oh, don't think so lowly of me."

"this isn't the lowest i have thought of you." you turned back to him and gave him a proper look.

his shirt perfectly ironed, broad shoulders emphasized by the navy blue suit. the color of his lips perfectly matched with the strawberry you just ate while waiting for the main dish. the dangly earrings you liked so much. not on him, you just like this type of jewelry. even his hair was flawless, his stylists must have spent a good hour on him.

after every seat at your table was taken, the gala had rightfully started. surprisingly heeseung was behaving himself, talking with other guests, not really paying attention to you. it was your behavior that was questionable.

because of your tight dress, your knees kept drifting to the left, occasionally touching heeseung's leg, after which he proceeded to brush your thigh with his thumb, saying "excuse me," as if he bumped into you. whenever that happened you jumped back to sitting straight, but then your legs started moving to the other side, and you didn't want to bother the woman on your right, so you just excused yourself from the table and went to the bathroom.

because of the banquet just starting, the toilet room was empty. you stood in front of the mirror, wanting to reapply your lipstick when it struck you that you had left your purse on your seat, "fuck."

"forgot this?" you heard the annoying voice. you didn't even notice him following you here.

"it's a women's bathroom, heeseung."

"it's not."

you looked around only to see a display of luxurious men's fragrances for guests to try, "shit."

you wanted to walk past him and leave the room, but he was blocking the door.

"you look so beautiful today, i can't keep my eyes off of you." you knew that tone, he was playing.

"move."

"ah, isn't it just like in moonlight?" he pretended to have a conversation with you, "the bathroom scene, do you remember?" he looked down at you and smirked.

oh you wish you didn't. it was the first sex scene you've ever filmed. of course you weren't having actual intercourse, but it was pretty intimate. you remembered it too well, him delicately touching your skin to make sure you're comfortable, breathing into your lips, looking at you with so much desire.

his face started moving closer to you, calmly, so you could back away if you wanted to, but you couldn't force yourself to.

your lips met his and, shit, they not only look good together on camera but feel amazing too, as if they were carved specifically for each other. it was like two magnets finally connecting. it was a matter of seconds for heeseung to have you bent over the counter.

he moved your dress up carefully, slowly so you can have all the time you want to regret your decision. oh you hated how easily he could read your mind, "hurry up," you rushed him.

"are you this needy for me?" he pushed onto you harder and you could feel the bulge in his pants.

"i don't want anyone to walk in."

"why? it wouldn't be the first time when people see you like this for me," he said, still referencing the movie.

honestly, you wanted to turn around and slap him on the face, which he expected and so firmly grabbed your hips, unabling you to move. then he unzipped his pants and swiftly put his dick inside you, not wasting any more seconds.

without a doubt your body still knew his, he entered you so easily only for you to clench on him immediately after, causing a gasp even from him.

you both looked at each other in the mirror, a smirk appearing on his face once he saw how hard you were trying to keep your lips pressed together.

he was thrusting into you deeply, not leaving any space between you and the sink. his warm body pressing onto you from behind and you rubbing on the stone-cold porcelain from the front really fucked you up. it was difficult for you to hold yourself up, which heeseung noticed and helped you by grabing your neck and pulling you back, closer to him.

a strap holding your dress fell off your shoulder, exposing your right breast. you wanted to bring it back, but he stopped your hand, "i want to watch."

it drove you mad how he kept whispering into your ear, how you melted because of it, how he perfectly caressed your spot, how hot you were getting, how you wanted him to watch.

"why is it that you always come back to me?" he looked your reflection in the eyes while kissing the side of your neck.

"not to you," you paused because of the moan escaping your lips, "to this."

"to this?" he moved his hand up to your jaw, his fingers brushing over your lips, oh you had to tighten your legs together, "i know you want me to put my fingers into your mouth. it always made you cum."

it was so hard to not break eye contact with him because of the filth he said to you, but you were already so red on your face, tears slowly had started to build up in your eyes, you couldn't give him more satisfaction. he can't know how good he's making you feel, even though it's not difficult to tell from the wet sounds you're making.

"come for me. i want to know that you're still mine," the more he talks the closer you feel to your release, but you can't give up so easily. not that you want him to fuck you longer, you just don't want him to think that you're so easy for him.

but you are. no matter how hard you tried to stop your orgasm, it came. you coated his dick with your sweet, glistening liquid. a single tear ran down your cheek, finishing the scene.

"you did so well, baby." he kissed your exposed back.

"don't call me that," you moved his hands away from you.

pt. 2 here!! pt.3 here!!

after hotel.

[currentfandomkick]

So. Reincarnated!Danny and Tim has taken over my brain. And the trans headcannons for both Tim and Danny, and Kitty and Johnny resulted in what’s below. Debating calling this the RookAU as i like that for Tim’s future solo identity, and color palette wise it reminds of phantom.

Toddler-adjacent Tim with ghosts, Constantine and decent parents below in fic form

Tim was used to seeing people others ignored. The nice lady in the pearl necklace and the pretty green pendant that matches her ring. She’s always with this nice biker who checked Tim over whenever he fell and said he was “a doctor before i kicked the bucket again,” while doing a reflex and booboo check.

The pair had a habit of staying around his neighbors and hovering around a Tim a lot.

No one else said high to them. The biker said its because his shadow was bad luck, but Tim saw it wrap around Batman and Robin before and go through bad guys who stopped fighting as good in a bank robbery before. The biker’s shadow is really a big helper and chooses what type of luck you get.

He’s not sure if the biker worked that out—the one with the 13 on his bike and wore the green skull necklace—there are a lot of bikers that drive through people but no one gets hurt-hurt.

Tim drew a lot of the ignored people in crayon. Some were bleeding but Mr. 13 told him they’re stuck like that as ‘Thats how shades are’ and ruffled Tim’s hair.

Sometimes the pair visited instead of only seeing him when his parents let him go to boundary by their properties. It’s nice, but they’re very weird about names, and Tim.

The woman told him she has a few names, and so does her husband. She said Tim could give them names too! Having a lot made you safer and stronger.

The biker calls her “kitty” a lot so she has to be a Catherine, but sometimes she’s “Martha” too. Tim didn’t like the idea of using the biker’s names for her.

She calls the guy Johnny a lot, Thomas and Tom. Tim doesnt know which is their middle names or what crimes they did to use those all the time, but they’re really nice to him! He’s pretty sure he likes being Mr. 13 too!

Sometimes they mention they knew him “before you went round two, little man!” but they don’t call him the name he went by, as “you and your uh, cousin I think you two decided on? Shared a name and your old one was real close to it. So not the best thing to call you that little man.”

Tim chose his name for himself, and Mommy and Daddy got it changed everywhere. No one needs to know, just like no one will know since Mommy and Daddy are very sneaky and are teaching him to be sneaky!

He was still debating if Kitty Martha and Johnny Tom would like to be Miss Pearl and Mr. 13…

The two murmured he needed to be careful about which people he noticed, especially if they were blue or green, or if other people didn’t see them. ‘Shades’ can be tricky and Tim is little enough they can do a lot of damage, according to Pearl.

But the parade of people at home made it hard. There were other people in and out of the various houses he grew up in that his parents and others ignored. Mom called them his ‘imaginary friends’ when he saw them on the street. But they pretend not to see servants and the help too.

Pearl. he liked that for her; Martha Kitty Pearl. She followed him when he left the house and shooed the others away. Sometimes Pearl blew a kiss and a bunch of shades were gone!

Johnny Tom 13’s shadow buddy cursed people sometimes. Mostly it made their phone work worse. Shadow likes cheezits.

Dad thought it was a little funny, feeding the ‘Shadow’ and giving it to the wrong spots. Shadow didn’t care, but Pearl and Johnny didn’t like it.

Dad stopped laughing about it when Tim asked why there was a bird with a person’s face flapping at some of the jars his parents brought home from the latest dig.

Mom knelt down slowly, looking at her work friends and Dad. “Sweetie, can you draw what you saw?”

Bird person noticed he was pointing at them and made a lot of loud angry sounds.

Tim covered his ears and screamed back.

The bird person froze. Tim huffed before grabbing the crayon.

“Sorry, they were too loud. They stopped trying to grab the jar though. Do you still want a picture?”

Dad knelt down beside Mom and nodded slowly.

Mom looked at the jar. “Timmy, should Mommy move it back?”

Tim told her no, the bird person wanted it there and kept moving otherwise.

After showing off his drawing, Mom and Dad changed languages they way they always did when it was a grownup conversation.

The bird person flew over and looked at his drawing, and him.

“Pearl and 13 said I’m not supposed to say hi. But you’re not a shade—are you a meta?”

Tim. Had no clue what the bird person was saying, flapping scuffling about. They pecked his drawing. A lot. They were not, very much not, happy about being there.

Tim frowned. Mom and Dad were talking to their friends in hushed tones, and moving out of the room.

Tim huffed and grabbed a map of the world and put it out for them. The birdperson squaked at him, gesturing to the place they are on it.

Tim pointed to the continent they’re on. “Mom’s friend calls it the ‘new world,’ but it’s been here for longer than I’ve been alive. But shades can be a lot older than me… and you’re not a shade.”

Tim hummed, wishing Pearl or 13 was there. They said you have to speak and feel what you mean sometimes to talk to other ignored people.

“I’m not sure what you are if you’re not a meta. But I think you want to go, go home?” Tim tried to focus on what made home, home. Mom and Dad reading to him together, holidays and singing silly songs. It was warm and an invite to play and rest.

The birdperson flew to him and perched itself on his shoulder.

“You’re very light,” Tim commented. “Do you want any water?” He focused on cups and drinking this time.

The bird person huffed, gently hitting him with their wing.

“Got it. Not thirsty.”

He went back to his book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and let the angry bird person hop down his shoulder, but stay touching Tim, as they grabbed the crayon and made marks on some paper he left by the map.

His parents came to check in on him and saw the bird person’s drawing on the paper, grabbed his drawing of the bird person, and whisper-yelled enough he knew they were not happy, but not to the point he knew what it was exactly.

“Do you think I did something bad?” Tim asked quietly, with this swirling abyss twisting in his gut.

The bird person ruffled their feathers and said a word that felt like a ‘no.’

A few hours later a man who said he could call him “Connie” came in. His parents kept calling him Constantine. There was a nice floating man with him that everyone but Connie ignored.

Tim waited for them to be distracted and asked the floating man one of the safe questions 13 and Pearl gave him for safe ghosts.

“What do you like to be called?”

The floating man paused, floated lower and stared at him.

“It’s okay, you’re a guest and it’s okay to talk to guests. I chose Tim!” He smiled, hoping his parents didn’t have to bring up his old name.

“Deadman,” the floating man offered his hand.

Tim shook it like Dad does.

“and try not to spread around your name to others ghosts. We can uh, overwhelm the ones who can see us.”

Tim frowned, ignoring his parents’ eyes and Connie’s look as their conversation quieted. They’d just say he was talking to an imaginary friend again.

“Is that what I should call the green and blue people? I know the one with the goop coming out are usually shades.”

“Some of us are obvious with the colors, some are more like me and very pale. Do I look solid to you?”

“If you aren’t a shade you’re solid. It’s why birdie is hard to workout. They’re more see through but feel very solid.”

“Right.” Deadman’s face tightened by the eyes and his mouth. “Most people see through ghosts like air. Sometimes we can be see-through like hair. Its. Not common to see us as solid, even at your age.”

“Oh. Is that why a lot of you glow if you get close? Not a lot, but like, like… sunset hair! but not golden just, other colors, but all of you—everywhere! Shades don’t glow unless they’re changing color.”

“I can’t say for sure, most mediums see me half here, half not.”

That felt familiar. Bird person flew over, absently grooming Tim’s hair with their feathers.

“That sounds annoying. Do you want to watch Blue’s Clues with me while Mom and Dad do the serious stuff? Blue takes a while to get what you’re saying but Mom said she’s hard of hearing and won’t get hearing aides—that’s why Dad said it’s important to learn sign language.”

“Did he?” Deadman asked.

“M’hm!”

Connie explained some adults only thing to his parents while Deadman and Tim tried to make Steve to understand they already knew where Blue was, and know just how bad he is at instructions.

When the episode was over, Tim, Deadman and Birdperson went to knock on the door where his parents were. Or Tim did.

Deadman floated through and told Connie they were ready.

Connie sat him down, and started asking questions Pearl and 13 made him promise not to answer as that’s what exorcists ask before making people go away.

He loves 13 and Pearl, and knows they watch over Mr. Wayne who acts happy when he isn’t. His happy face and his “happy” faces are very different. The “happy” face is more like Steve’s face movements, while his happy face is always soft and barely there if you don’t pay attention.

Tim always pays attention.

“Look kid, I know you can see souls who are stuck between the living realm and the dead realms. Deadman is dead.”

Tim scowled as he knows what dead is—it’s when bodies stop working. Souls and spirits are vastly different. “He’s not Gone or Ended, so he’s not dead-dead-dead. And that’s not uncommon to know or see at my age so bleh!”

“Tim!” His parents tried to chide him.

Connie waved them off and motioned for Tim to continue.

“It’s true! And if I did, then you’d make my friends Ended or Gone and they choose to stay.”

Connie paused at that, making the same face mom does when working out something weird going on in Drake Industries. “Does this guy choose to stay?” He pointed to the bird person.

“No,” Tim answered with a small frown. He did spend a lot of time trying to communicate with them afterall, and the weird ‘feels like’ thing going on. “He wants to go home, but he can’t. I think the jars are like,” Tim trailed off, looking around to find his hotwheels tucked away in a corner. “Like cars to get him home or something.”

Connie hummed. “Not wrong in his case. But, seeing souls can be dangerous kid.”

“Only if they realize you can see ‘em.” Tim argued like Mom does with the investors. “And you invited Deadman in after being made a guest, so that’s allowed.”

“And a friend of yours teach you this?” Connie guessed with the ‘fake knowing’ look his dad used on a bad shareholder before they started listening to Mom.

…Tim can admit he loves being with Pearl and 13 and Shadow. But he’s not sure if friends is the right word. But if he uses the right feeling word around his parents, they’ll get sad and mad and he… he wants them to be happy.

“Nope. Not a friend, but not-not a friend either.”

“Cryptic, little—takes after Janet, huh?”

Tim smiled back at him, even as Mom and Dad share a look where Mom pretends she has no involvement and Dad is trying to get her to admit she is involved.

“I chose me to take after thank you very much.”

Connie snorted. “When you’re older, we can talk about how to use it. Until then, I’m going to give your parents some wards to keep the nasties from you.”

Tim didn’t like it. Or the sudden craving for burgers and shakes.

“Aren’t you going to help Bird Person get home?”

Constantine sighed. “Yeah, I’ll drop ‘im off. Just don’t borrow problems from the dead, okay?”

Tim stayed quiet, trying to work out what that meant.

Connie knelt down. “Its not your responsibility. If you want to try anything, contact me first and we can get you set up as an apprentice for another paranormal detective first and foremost and work it out from there, but that will be a long, long ways out.”

Tim nodded slowly, looking at his parents. Dad had a pinched face. Mom had her Gala Jerk Repellant smile one.

Tim’s heart sank.

“If they look ghostly, ignore them unless everyone can see them. Then you call me.”

Dad didn’t like letting go of their find. Mom hated something about it all.

Maybe that Tim can see secrets and get ghost gossip that she can’t.

When Pearl and 13 moved to the Drake Estate Tim took their hands and introduced them to his parents carefully.

His parents jumped back when Pearl and 13 each put a hand on his shoulders.

“Mom, Dad, this is Pearl and Thirteen.”

Pearl smiled at his parents, her hair more inky and short than her more-usual green shag. “Pleasure to see you two again. Hope

You don’t mind us watching over Timmy here given what tends to try and stick to him.”

“As long as our son is safe and free,” Mom supplied while shaking Pearl’s hand herself.

Tim wondered if this would be another board meeting fight or not.

“Jack,”13 acknowledged.

“Nice to see you again Tommy,” Dad offered his own hand. “Didn’t know Timmy here could uh, bring you back?”

“Likewise, and its 13 nowadays. Tim’s a special case,” 13 explained while ruffling Tim’s hair. “We’re gonna need you two to keep a secret from Old Connie for us about this.”

“Why don’t we work out what we need to do while Tim wears the ‘silence headphones’ we got him and practices his penmanship and drawing?”

“I’ll help him pick out a book!” Jack called, scooping Tim into his arms.

“Pig Pancake!” Tim perked up, squirming out of his grasp and running to find his favorite picture book.

His parents put his headphones on and everything was quiet. Just him and the book. And him trying to draw the pages and wrote like the letters on the page.

Kitty waved a hand infront of him to get his attention.

13 pointed at his ears.

Tim took off his headphones.

“Tim,” Mom began. “We came to an agreement. When your father and I are not here or are busy, Martha—yes I know it’s Pearl too I was getting there dear—will stay with you. Shadow will stay with their son if they’re both with you, and Tom—Thirteen—will go between the two of you.”

Tim kicked his feet. “So no Nanny?”

“Yes you still have a nanny when we’re not around sweetheart,” Dad answered. “But you also have Pearl to play with and keep you out of bad trouble.”

“Like the rogues when they break into schools?” Tim asked.

“Exactly sweetie,” Mom smiled. “Pearl is very good at making problems go bye-bye, and can get you somewhere safe. But we have to keep it a secret from Connie when he visits to make sure the wards on the house and the repulsions we’ll be putting on you to keep nasties away are working, alright?”

A smile bloomed on Tim’s face as he nodded along.

“Can Pearl and me play mario kart now?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” 13 bemoaned.

“Yep! C’mon Pearl, you can be Bowser this time—he’s the coolest!”

[blackleatherjacketz]

Good With All Three

Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only!, NSFW, Explicit Smut, I horny-watched this movie, so I horny-wrote this story, I make no apologies!, Never Have I Ever, Alcohol, Kissing, Ari’s Magnetizing Gaze, Hands, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink (for him), Multiple Orgasms

Summary: You and Ari play a late night game of Never Have I Ever and things get very hands-on very quickly.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Tags: @bullet-prooflove​ @skittle479​ @letsby​

Read more of my stories HERE

“Never have I ever had sex in public.” Ari’s prompt leaves his lips as they curl into a smirk, their rosy color masked by the green beer bottle he nearly empties as he leans back in his seat, patiently awaiting your answer.

His questions continue to grow bolder with each sip he takes, ranging from ‘never have I eaten an insect’ to ‘never have I kissed a man’, and now to this. His eyes linger on yours a little bit longer as he draws the last few drops from his bottle, almost as if he can read your thoughts as soon as they darken. He holds your gaze until it finally breaks, venturing down to the patch of chest hair peeking out through his loosely buttoned collar.

You try your best not to envision him shirtless as you finally relent and take a defeated sip of your beer, giving yourself away.

“No shit?” He grins from ear to ear, setting his bottle down before quickly running his hands through his auburn locks. “I’m surprised.”

“Oh, really? Like you haven’t?” Surely someone as confident and attractive as Ari has ended up in a similar situation with someone in the past.

He shakes his head, sitting back up in his seat. “Too risky.” He grasps onto his bottle, examining its empty contents with a regretful sigh. “Gotta keep a low profile.”

“That makes sense.” You pause and think back on your experience in a JC Penny fitting room with your college boyfriend, remembering it with less fondness than you care to admit. “Mine was a long time ago, anyways.” You spin the base of your bottle between your fingers as one last drink swishes around inside it. “Back before all this.”

“Was it fun, at least?” He leans forward with an elbow on the table, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as his bottle nearly touches yours. “The thrill of it?”

You shrug your shoulders. “A little. It wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be, though.” You pretend not to notice as his knuckles brush against yours.

“Really? Why not?” His eyes have you again, the dim lighting of your fake resort matching them with the light blue denim of his shirt.

“It was a confined space, and even when he didn’t have that as an excuse… like most guys with big dicks, he didn’t really know how to use it.”

Ari gawks at you with genuine surprise, his eyebrows jumping up into his hairline as they wrinkle his forehead. “Has that been your general experience, or just with him?”

“Mostly everyone. They tend to rely on it too much, you know? And they aren’t very good with their hands or mouths, either.” You consider going into more detail about your past lovers but decide against it, the way he’s looking at you right now suggests a desire for more than historical knowledge.

“That’s a real shame.” He leans in close to you, barely whispering as the top two buttons of his shirt openly reveal his perfectly sculpted chest. “Because I’m big, and I’m pretty good with all three.”

Jesus Christ. He just came out and said it, didn’t he?

You blink a few times to properly register his words, a newfound heat brewing in your belly as you try your best to form a coherent thought. “A little cocky, aren’t we?” You manage to tease, your body picking up on his signals before your brain has the time to talk yourself out of it.

“More than a little.” He bites his lip and touches your knee with his fingertips, his thumb sliding swiftly beneath it. He grins as you try to stifle a gasp, the sudden act of intimacy shocking your touch-starved skin to the core as he gently encases your knee with his palm. He watches intently as you allow him to touch you, silently granting him permission to continue onward as you spread your legs even further apart.

“You don’t think women have lied to spare your feelings just because you’re hot?” You swallow hard and try to focus on the conversation as his hand ventures even further up your thigh, taking his time to close the gap between you.

“You think I’m hot?” He pushes the pads of his fingers toward your center, pressing them into your muscles as his thumb tickles the fine hair on the underside of your thigh.

“Maybe,” you whisper, just now noticing the rings of olive green that surround his pupils.

“Maybe?” He smiles, squeezing the bulk of your thigh as his thumb reaches the hem of your swimsuit. “I’m gonna need you to tell me the truth.” His tone shifts from playful to stern in a matter of seconds, tightening the muscles in your abdomen as he smooths his hand up your pelvis. “You think you can do that for me?” He brushes his thumb underneath the polyester just long enough to skim over your sensitive area.

“Uh huh,” you nod.

“I don’t want you to lie to me like all the other guys you’ve fucked.” He finds the tie on the side of your bikini bottom, pulling on the string that holds it together.

“Okay,” you start, trying your best not to hold your breath as his fingers warm your skin. “I definitely think you’re hot.”

“That’s good.” He unfastens the bow on your hip, his other hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as the back of your swimsuit falls onto the seat of your chair. “I think you’re hot, too.” He moves his hand across your hips to the opposite bow, unfastening it in nearly half the time. “Now if only there was a way we could solve both of our problems.”

“If only,” you whisper. You look down and watch him pull the unfastened swimwear off your body, instinctively scooting to the edge of your seat as his skilled fingers find themselves between your folds before you even have a chance to ask.

“Can you be honest?” He curls a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him, spreading your other lips apart before teasing your clit with his index finger.

“Yes,” you nod your head as he deepens his touch, rubbing it up and down as your moisture begins to collect beneath it.

“Promise me you won’t fake it?” He looks down at his hand for a split second as he sends tiny little pulses of pleasure into your skin, smirking as your breath stills in your chest.

“I promise.” You can barely speak, his intense eye contact and skilled fingers quickly proving your theory wrong as each upward motion intensifies the bliss shooting up into your core.

“I don’t want you to worry about hurting my feelings.” He moves his fingers down the length of your folds, gliding them easily inside your walls as he cradles the back of your head, his lips merely inches from yours. “I can take it.”

“Okay,” you moan into the space between you, grasping onto the loose denim of his shirt as he pushes his digits in even deeper, his knuckles now flush against your skin.

“Tell me what you want.” He reiterates, curling his fingers up and toward him, pressing against that bundle of nerves in order to pull you in closer like a fish on a hook. The legs of your chair screech across the tile floor, almost deafening the both of you as he draws you near, your entire body taking the bait as he repeats the motion over again. “Tell me.”

“I need you to touch me here.” You reach your hand down and grab his thumb, lifting it up and placing it on your clit.

He smiles at your instruction, doing as he’s told before finally leaning in to close the gap between your lips. That stale, faint flavor of beer mixes in with the sea salt still on his skin as you breathe him in, savoring his lips and tongue as they explore your mouth with more fervor than any other lover you could bother to remember. That moan of yours turns into a needy whine as he presses on that special spot from both ends, massaging you from the inside out as his thumb sends signals of immeasurable ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain.

He kisses his way down your lips and chin, his beard scratching your jawline as he moans in return against you, reacting to your silky walls clenching down around his fingers. His mouth leaves a trail of fire down your neck and shoulders, his tongue and lips marking nearly every inch of your chest and stomach with his saliva until he pushes his own chair backward while getting onto his knees.

Instead of pulling his fingers out of you, he keeps his steady rhythm going inside your slick. He looks up at you with intermittent glances of salacious pride as he presses his lips against your inner thighs, sucking scattered bruises into both of them as you softly moan his name. “I don’t want you to say my name again until you come, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, running your hands through his hair as he lifts your leg over his shoulder before diving in completely.

Every bold claim he's made up until now proves to be more than true as he licks a tantalizing stripe up each side of your dripping wet length. He slows his fingers’ pace inside of you, removing his thumb from that special spot only to quickly replace it with his hungry mouth. You try not to sigh too loudly as he laps you up, those eyes of his glancing up from time to time through strands of hair that fall in front of his face as his tongue flicks up and down in a delicately delicious pattern. A mixture of short and long strokes sends signals of euphoria throughout your body, like dots and dashes on the telegraph sending a complete and layered message into your brain until it reaches every inch of your fingers and toes, curling them in on themselves in sheer delight.

You grab a fistful of his hair as you feel yourself shudder, locking onto his eyes as he doubles down, tasting every bit of your flesh as your inner walls clamp down around his knuckles like a vice. You tug on his scalp, holding his head in place as you ride out your orgasm with his name on your lips, gyrating your hips against the tip of his nose as he continues to devour you like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days.

“Ari!” You finally cry out as the pleasure nearly encompasses you entirely, wreaking so much havoc on your nerves and skin that you’re unsure if you can physically tolerate any more of it. Without thinking, you lift your leg up even further as he refuses to relent, planting it on his shoulder before kicking him off of you and onto the floor.

“How am I doing so far?” He laughs, smirking as he lands backward onto his elbows, the light reflecting off of the clear coat of your arousal on his lips and beard.

“Jesus,” you start, unable to stop your body from shivering in the aftershock as he looks at you like that. “I mean… good, you’re doing good.”

“You’re not lying, are you?” He stands up from his spot on the floor and runs a hand through his hair, his erection more than prominent in his jeans as he approaches you.

Good god, you almost forgot about that part.

“No,” you admit, catching your breath as your muscles continue to shake. “Not after that.”

“I believe you.” He takes your hand and helps you up onto your wobbly feet, walking with you almost as if the two of you are dancing before picking you up and setting you down onto the dinner table in one fluid motion. Your weight pulls against the tablecloth, clinking the dishes together before Ari pushes them out of the way to make room for what he’s about to do.

You can’t help but keep your legs spread apart as he steps in between them, your palm finding its way down his chest and over his clothed cock before unfastening his jeans to finally reveal what’s underneath. “Holy shit.” Your mouth falls open as his dick springs up from the denim you pull down around his thighs, its length and girth more than matching the level of confidence he always seems to have.

“I told you.” He raises his eyebrows before leaning down to kiss your lips again, the tangy flavor of your cunt spreading to each and every one of your taste buds as he brushes his tongue against yours. You savor your own personal zest until you feel him smile and pull away, looking down and spitting on his palm to stroke himself. He grins as you watch him work on himself, cupping his head a few times before noticing your jaw dropping on the floor. “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll make it fit.”

You laugh in utter disbelief as he lines himself up with your opening, gliding the head of his cock over your clit a few more times just to watch you squirm as a deep, guttural moan brews in his chest. He finally decides to push himself in, that moan leaving his lips in little more than a whisper as he begins to fill you up, stretching your velvety walls to capacity. His breath hitches as he disappears between your folds, guiding himself in deeper with more ease than you thought was humanly possible before he eventually bottoms out.

You whine as he holds himself there for a minute, glancing up at you to make sure you’re okay before taking his time to pull out and thrust back into you, giving your muscles room to adjust before he starts chasing his own pleasure. He lets go of himself as he rocks into you, cradling the back of your head as the wooden table beneath you creaks louder with each consecutive movement of his hips. He keeps his other hand on your hip, holding you in place as he drills himself into you, breathing heavily into your kiss as trails of sweat drip down his chest, soaking little droplets onto the fabric of his shirt.

He growls against your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as possible as he feeds your body with a visceral pleasure you weren’t entirely sure existed until now. Keening against him as he continues to fill you up, your overstimulated flesh tightens around him in a rapturous wave that seems to flood your senses even more than it had before. You can feel it rush its way through you, seizing every muscle in your entire body as it squeezes the release right out of him, forcing him to twitch and spasm into your blissful heat. He grunts with his last push inside of you, grabbing onto your ass to get as deep as he can, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix as he coats your inner walls with his orgasm.

He kisses your lips and forehead as he sputters inside of you, keeping himself between your legs as he memorizes how good the sensation of your muscles feels around him before slowly pulling out. “Did I…,” he runs a hand through your hair as he catches his breath, all the blood rushing up to his lips and cheeks. “Did I change your mind?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, continuing to hold him close. “Yeah, you did.”

[14thcommander]

seashore | hange zöe x reader

summary: a rainy day at the beach with hange. the shitty weather somehow leads to confessions of love. (idiots in love, friends to lovers, not beta read, a shit ton of symbolism, tooth rotting fluff)

i suggest listening to the song do you think I’m pretty by kingfisher

wc: 1.5k

The wind is gentle when it blows against your face — light, careful like a mother’s touch.

It brings the smell of cigarettes, the one Hange is currently smoking. They attempt to point it in the opposite direction, in order to avoid its terrible scent reaching you. It fails, but it’s the intention that counts something.

The beach is empty — well, mostly. There is a group of teenagers that are close enough to be seen, but too far to be heard. The sound of waves is the only thing you hear.

The ocean is a green, grayish color — the line that separates it from the sky, in the horizon, is blurred.

It is a chill day, one you consider the perfect atmosphere to go to the beach. Hange knows you like gray, moody days — the ones in which the sky looks like a warm, soapy bath. You were never a fan of sunlight anyway. Perhaps that’s why you admire Hange so much.

“Too bad Levi and Erwin are missing this sunny, hot day at the beach. Bet they’re sad just thinking about it.” Hange’s words are filled with irony, waiting for a reaction. The sarcasm that drips from their tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

The two of you are friends — well, sort of. You are part of the same friend group, consistently hanging out. Over time, you grew closer: what was supposed to be a collective hangout, turned into just you. It feels complicated these days.

“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who agreed to come with me.” You offer them a middle finger, to which they throw their hands up in surrender.

The both of you are sitting on an old beach towel you brought, the fabric is wrinkled from being shoved on the bottom of your bag. None of you are dressed appropriately for the beach: Hange is wearing a thick flannel, protecting them from the chill breeze. You are wearing a beat down pair of converse, the ones you have since high school. Somehow, you match with each other. You try not to think too much of it.

“Call me crazy if you want, I wouldn’t let my friend go to this mopey beach all alone. I’m loyal like that.”

And that’s why you are at the beach, with Hange and no one else. Levi and Erwin were supposed to come along, however you are glad something came up for them. Nothing would be more awkward than ending up on a double date with your sort-of-friend.

The word friend tastes bitter on your throat, poisoning your lungs like Hange’s cigarette.

“You’re the only person I know that thinks this is appropriate beach weather.” They say, breaking the lack of dialogue between you for the past minute or so. Not that you’re counting or anything like that, of course. “Are you a vampire or something?”

It earns them a chuckle from you, almost a laugh — it drips like honey from your mouth, and Hange desperately wants to know how it tastes like. They want to hear it again.

“I doubt you like having fun in the sun either.” You reply, watching as the wind blows their hair — brunette locks dancing in the air, enhancing the messiness of their ponytail.

“Touché.”

Hange says, while burrying the remains of a cigarette in the sand, and you don’t point out how wrong it is — not with words, at least. Your eyes seem to translate your feelings either way.

“You’re so expressive.” It’s Hange’s turn to chuckle. “It’s adorable.”

Their words almost make your face heat in embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh, shut up.” Your tone is playful, not pointed at all. Avoiding their eye contact, you turn your face in order to pretend the ocean before you is a better sight than Hange.

“I mean it. I like it.”

Hange might tell you a joke, but they would never tell you a lie. Something about the honor of a scientist, you guess. It’s a beat of silence until you speak again.

“Yeah, well, you’re the opposite. I can’t read you at all.” This comment, though, this one is pointed — not like a knife, but similar to thorns on a rose. It comes with something beautiful, too: honesty.

The truth is palpable, swimming in between you. It’s all a funny, weightless banter, until it isn’t.

“My resting bitch face doesn’t help. Guess I’m better with words or something.”

This time you laugh, genuinely. It isn’t mean, you don’t mean to mock Hange at all — it’s just that the irony of it all is funny to you. Almost unbelievable.

“Oh, what a poet you are.” Your eyes are glued to the sea before you, admiring its chaotic beauty. The waves crash against the shore, becoming a conjugation of white bubbles.

It’s silent again, wordless tension building around you like a sand castle — ready to crumble at any sudden move.

“You’re really pretty.” They admit, which sounds like something in between a secret and a confession. It seems out of nowhere, but it truly isn’t. Lately, this is all Hange can think about. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The waves crash again, destroying the metaphorical sand castle you built around yourself, trying to protect you from whatever it is you’re scared of.

“Hange.” The sound of their name leaving your mouth isn’t a threat, although it isn’t an invitation either.

“No, I mean it. Truly.” They reach for something inside their bag, something important in the mess of papers, headphones, and a cigarette pack.

They’ve found it: a small, worn out notebook.

“Here, take a look.” They offer it to you, opened on a certain page. “Then tell me you think I’m lying.”

There are doodles of you. Your face, distracted, frozen in the moment, probably when you were laughing at something crude Levi had said. There is your silhouette, too: you guess it’s the view of when you walk in front of them, hurriedly trying to arrive on time for a move you went to see.

Your smile, your eyes. Every detail of your face, something that cannot be translated by a photograph. The traces Hange has memorized over the years you have known each other. This is what they picture before going to bed, or early in the morning when they wake up.

“Hange.” This time, when you say their name, it is softer — it warms them up. “Hange…”

It’s like you’re hypnotized, unable to say anything but their name.

When you look up, they are closer, nose brushing against yours. Hange looks at you through thick glasses, with curiosity. This time, they can’t read your expression.

“Kiss me.”

And they do. It is gentle, soft — their lips move against yours like the waves move against the shore, as if it was nature’s reason for your own existence. Their warm palms find your face, holding you preciously. It is brief, however. The kiss ends as quickly as it came.

Neither of you speak, too afraid to break the moment. Hange brings their forehead against yours, and like that you stay. You taste like salt air, warm like whiskey. It is fiery, overtaking them as a whole. They wouldn’t mind being swallowed by it, drowning in the overwhelming hotness that is your touch.

This time, Hange says your name, warm brown eyes looking into yours and finding nothing but love. Admiration. Devotion.

It’s a humorless chuckle, what comes next. It leaves their lips nervously. For someone so careless like Hange, it sure is a new sight to see them like this — a pink tint covering their cheeks, a loopy smile on their lips. They have never looked so soft.

“I have wanted to do this for so long.”

“What, go to the beach on a rainy day?” You ask in attempted humor, beaming when it earns you a laugh from them.

“Kiss you. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile, breaking eye contact and looking at the sand. It looks damp, cold. Unlike what you feel right now.

“Me too.”

Hange looks into your eyes again, scanning it from any signs of mischief. They find none.

“I get the appeal of this now. If anything, the shitty weather makes it feel more romantic.”

You give them an I know, right? look, and they fight the urge to kiss you again.

“Glad I could change your mind. We could do this again, if you want.”

The words that leave your lips are soft, but confident. Just like you.

“What, are you asking me on a date?”

“Depends on your answer.”

Hange offers you a toothy smile, feeling like a child. They feel on top of the world now. How could they not, after all?

“Yeah. Obviously, of course. I would love to go on a date with you. Multiple dates, even.”

You smile again, cheeks already hurting from so much happiness.

“Can’t wait to make you mine.” They say, bringing your palm to their lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your warm skin. “Cause I’m already yours.”

You believe them.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

hiii, what and do you think the gangs phone wallpapers would be and would they possibly be reader?

Summary: The Outsider's phone wallpaper Warnings: modernized outsiders Author's Note: i've been waiting to do this ask for so long LMAO PONYBOY CURTIS Ponyboy is definetly the Gen alpha of the group so he probably has something dumb like freakbob. either that or something completely unrelated to anything like a random house he likes. he would totally make you his wallpaper if you were together! It would just be an awkward photo of you, something like when you were looking behind the camera rather than at it or not even looking at all.

example vv

JOHNNY CADE I am a Johnny cade phone doubter, I do not think this man owns a phone, maybe a flip phone if he's lucky. However, if he does he'll probably make his phone wallpaper something like the gang all hanging out together, or those silly things where its a description of himself (blood type, weight, eye and hair color etc.) incase he loses his memory. He would make you his wallpaper but it would be something probably without your face, like maybe if you gave him matching bracelets it would be of that example vv

SODAPOP CURTIS Sodapop will either have something completely dumb or very smart for his wallpaper. It could be one of those high quality images of space or the nerd emoji just really bad quality.

bonus, he never clears his notifications and likes to look at them and pretend he's super popular even though half of them are of Darry asking him where he is. He would make you his wallpaper, it would totally be a candid of you two goofing off together. example vv

STEVE RANDLE I think Steve would never have a serious photo as his wallpaper, UNLESS it's of him at the gym. (im so sorry.) It one of those photos that he uses everytime he gets a 'wdyll' text, he's so proud of that photo. Or it's one of those lobotomy core slideshows that he crudely screenshotted and made his wallpaper LMAO if he puts you in his wallpaper, he makes sure he looks cool. If he likes how he looks in the photo, you're good. example vv

TWO BIT MATHEWS ok forgive me for this one guys but Two Bit's phone wallpaper is obviously those ai generated images of Mickey Mouse where they make him have face tattoos, grillz, cigars, hellcats etc. he loves it so much that he uses ai to make multiple ones every now and then to get new wallpapers LOLL if you're in his wallpaper it's going to be a funny pic, something goofy or when he catches you off guard. example vv

BONUS: it's one of those awkward jc penny photos LMAO he would LIVE for those example vv

DARRY CURTIS Darry is the grandma, and for that reason, he probably 1) has a phone but rarely uses it, 2) doesn't have a phone, or 3) has an ipad. His wallpaper is either the gang or it's of some motivational quote against a very pretty sunset. or it's just the basic wallpaper that came with the phone. he'll always want you on his wallpaper (once he learns its a thing that couples do), he'll choose the best photo of you he has. It is a good photo but its just you looking straight at the camera and although he can look at it all day, the rest of the guys pretend to have staring contests with you on the wallpaper. example vv

DALLAS WINSTON say it with me now, dallas winston can not afford a phone and the phone plan!!!!!! dallas winston is a BROKIE. he is a BROKIE!!! and even if he did have a phone the screen would be so cracked that you wouldn't even be able to make out what the wallpaper was supposed to be. But if you could, it would probably be a photo he thinks is 'tuff', him with Buck smoking a cig against buck's car, dallas showing off his heater, a bunch of his belonging that he thinks are cool (rings, cigarette boxes, the heater and the st.christopher necklace) he would not put you on his wallpaper. NEVER. and im sorry to the dally girlies, i know how you feel because i am a dally girlie too </3. the only way i see you being on his wallpaper, is if you are in one of his 'tuff' photos, or your hand accidentally brushed the counter he set his things to take a photo of them. example vv

i found all the photos on pinterest and although i sincerely hope this doesnt affect my pinterest fyp LMAO none of the photos were used to hate or bash on anyones looks, every one here is super pretty and i am going to marry them,

[idcpxseur]

its 4:30 and i havent slept at all. i figured id actually talk about my rewrite again cuz i thought abt that bitch in a HOT minute

so its time for another

headcanons that will probably make it into my rewrite!

zanemau edition because theyre worms in my brain

yapper (aphmau) x listener (zane)

audhd (aphmau) x autism (zane)

the first time aphmau saw zane w/o his mask, she would not shut up to anyone who would listen about how pretty he was

(katelyn nearly punched her from annoyance)

aphmaus love language is physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time. zanes love laguage is quality time and gift giving

aphmau has a whole shelf in her room dedicated to the stuff that zane has given her

they hardly have dates where they go out in public, instead choosing to watch movies at home in their pjs

aphmau counts zane's freckles

she also kisses them

when aphmau gets calls from sylvanna, she squeezes the life out of zanes hand so she doesnt blow up on her mother

"do you think that we're soulmates in every universe?" "as long as we're soulmates in this one i couldnt care less"

zane doesnt believe in soulmates, though. hes just happy to have her

zane often feels like he doesnt deserve her since he was a dick in hs (aphmau (gently) scolds him for this thought process)

nerdy loser x nerdy loser

they love bullying each other. zane will say something so fucking foul and the others will look at them like 😧 and aphmau will just fucking lose it

theyre the type to have matching gaming set ups right next to each other

aphmau encourages him to play soccer w/ her

he becomes ridiculously good at it to spite her

(shes proud but pretends to be offended to keep him happy)

zane is a clothing thief (aphmau buys more black clothes on purpose so he doesnt steal her nice colorful ones)

tans (aphmau) x burns to a crisp immediately upon stepping outside (zane)

zane got sunburned through a window once (aphmau lost her mind laughing at him)

okay....im done....im going tos leep

[melodrangea]

I'M BEGGING YOU PLS I NEED KID WITH A READER THAT'S LIKE THE TITULAR CHARACTER FROM KOMI CAN'T COMMUNICATE-- THEY COME OFF AS LIKE A KUUDERE, COOL AND COLLECTED-- BUT SECRETLY THEY'RE A DORK AND SOCIALLY ANXIOUS AND JUST HAVE A LOT OF POWER AND KNOW HOW TO USE IT!! Maybe they wear a cloak and mostly blacks and reds😈😈😈 And maybe instead of using a weapon, they have some unexplainable power source similar to witches that just makes them even /more/ mysterious and cool. Until they start talking to you about how the last of both the carolina parakeets and passenger pigeons died in the exact same cage 4 years apart💀 Maybe the reason they're so quiet is /because/ they're so awkward and weird🥺 They probably silently stare at him all wide eyed and freak him out until he realises that means they just think he's pretty and like looking at him🙏🙏🙏 Anyways sorry for rambling🥺🥺🥺

i have a bunch of asks i’ve still yet to answer (sorry my loves) but this sounded too intriguing and funny not to write right away

what i’m hearing is witch!reader that’s calm on the outside and quirky on the inside

and something about birds :)

so imma just roll with that real quick

———————————————————————————

Kid x Witch!Kuudere! Reader

-now this totally makes sense

-because let’s be honest Kid is basically the exact same way

-cool and collected on the outside, but a total symmetry dork on the inside with a love for architecture

-you first notice Kid during sparring practice at the dwma

-assuming this is post-kishin and witches are more accepted, now you’re in the elite class with Mkf and the others

-you were assigned to face him, Patty and Liz

-you were nervous facing not only three on one, but one of the dwma’s top students

-Kid on the other hand noticed you for your witchy traits

-how the cloak you huddled yourself in flowed like a shroud of feathers, how soft your hair looked and the glittering jewelry you adorned yourself with

-you looked a little out of place but so did he and Kid respected your lack of care, how aloof you seemed to be to the whole scenario

-the spar ended in a close match with Kid winning but that impressed him even more at how close you got

-Kid was used to wiping the floor with every student that crossed his path, he admired how well you held up

-he liked a challenge

-you two danced around each other for a long time, pretending to be calm and calculated until one day the two of you were hanging out, walking down the street towards a cafe you’d heard of

-when Kid spotted a very symmetrical looking pigeon…

-and the facade was all over for the two of you

-Kid immediately went into fanboy mode, praising the bird for its unique coloring and symmetrical feathers

-and you about passenger pigeons and the odd coincidences revolving around the end of the species

it was an interesting time at the cafe, managing to both surprise the other about their hidden hyper fixations

but it honestly just gave the two of you more to talk about

there was the obvious initial embarrassment about your cover being blown but Kid found your wide array of knowledge very attractive

especially since your witchy persona is bird based

and Kid’s hyper-fixation made sense as a grim reaper he had to keep order, and what’s more orderly than symmetry?

and now that the metaphorical veil had been lifted it gave you both the confidence to admit your feelings, knowing that you both finally understood each other

were you the hottest and oddest couple ever? probably.

but did either of you give a single shit? absolutely not

and now Kid can spoil you with shiny objects while you use your magic to make things symmetrical :)

———————————————————————————

man if i had a dollar for every time i said hyperfixation

but if wishes were wings my grammar skills would fly so high they’d burn in the sun

and that’s a wrap my lovelies <3

i hope i did your request justice anon!!

-melodrangea <3

[oskarllyn]

i love splatoon and i love ace attorney so Press "keep reading" to get some notes regarding the process and some choices! I'm sorry if half of that doesn't make sense I promise it does in my head

Colors that were used for hair is actual splatoon 3 ink colors. Blue from "BlueYellow" from Phoenix, and red from "TurquoiseRed" for Edgeworth. Fun fact, if it was actual splatoon match, they would be on opposite sides, "Alpha" and "Bravo". With those ink colors they would never play against each other, but they would always still be on opposite sides. (haha im really proud of myself for that) Hairstyles are actually were somewhat kept to canonical, with additional change for Edgeworth to make it look more like his haircut. Though, if you wonder, their hair anatomy is correct, with Phoenix having 6 tentacles in the hair (inkling), and Edgeworth having 4 (octoling). There wasn't much thought behind why Phoenix is inkling and Edgeworth is octoling, BUT. Inklings are generally considered more clumsy, reckless, while octolings are smarter and more careful. ^ That actually leads to a weapon choice. N-zap `89 (weapon that Phoenix's holding) is a fast-pased weapon, requires a lot of movement and provides ability to turf-control. Edgeworth's choice is Order Charger Replica. In general, chargers (read: snipers) are used for support and crowd control. They're very powerful but the thing is - it's easy to get close from the back. Once enemy is in front of charger, its more likely, charger will die. BUT, front-liner, such as N-zap, can provide a great support and likely to stick around with chargers whenever a big push on charger happens. It makes N-zap and Order Charger Replica a great and pretty powerful duo. I have much more reasoning for this duo weapon and how they're good together but I think I yapped a lot already lmao.

outfit choice has no thought about it unless I come up with something rn and pretend like I actually implied something behind it. but imma be fr. i just used the designs i preferred the most lmao. if you see this message i did not come up with an explanation so yall can come up with something.

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: nothing? (Guess kissing, but very short)

Caitlin Foord x Reader:

Title: fling?

MasterList

The rain hadn’t let up all afternoon, a steady drizzle that turned the streets of London into a reflective mosaic of lights and colors. Caitlin Foord hadn’t planned to spend her rare day off wandering Soho, let alone stepping into an art gallery, but the rain had a way of forcing spontaneity.

She slipped inside, shaking the water from her jacket, and glanced around. The space was modest, its white walls hosting an eclectic mix of paintings. Despite her limited knowledge of art, Caitlin could feel the raw emotion in every brushstroke, the energy practically buzzing off the walls.

And then she saw you.

You were standing in the corner, gesturing animatedly as you spoke to an older couple. Your smile was wide and unguarded, your hands moving as you explained something about one of the pieces on the wall. Caitlin couldn’t hear the words, but she was captivated nonetheless.

She hovered near a painting, pretending to study it until the couple moved on, leaving you alone. Gathering her nerve, Caitlin stepped forward.

“Hi.”

You turned, startled but recovering quickly. “Oh, hello.”

“Are you the artist?” Caitlin asked, nodding toward the painting closest to you.

Your eyes followed her gaze to the swirling reds and golds on the canvas. “Yeah. First solo exhibition.” You hesitated, then added with a sheepish laugh, “Terrifying, honestly.”

Caitlin’s smile widened, a dimple appearing in her cheek. “Terrifying? Looks like you’re doing pretty well to me.”

Something in her tone made your nerves ease. “Well, thank you. That’s nice of you to say, but we’ll see how the night ends.”

She tilted her head, her dark eyes studying you in a way that made your stomach flip. “You have nothing to worry about. Your work speaks for itself.”

Before she left, she asked for your number. And somehow, without overthinking, you gave it to her.

Caitlin texted you the same night.

So, when’s my portrait session? Gotta make sure you capture my good side.

Her playful message set the tone for the days that followed. Conversations spilled into the early hours, her charm disarming you even through a screen. You talked about art, football, life. Caitlin had a way of making you feel like the center of her world, even though you knew that world was vast and demanding.

The first time you met again was at a small café in Shoreditch. Caitlin arrived wearing a beanie and an oversized hoodie, looking every bit the casual athlete. Despite her low-key appearance, heads turned as she walked in.

You spent hours together, sipping coffee and talking about everything and nothing. She told you about growing up in Australia, how football had been her escape and her passion. You opened up about your struggles as an artist, the constant battle between self-doubt and creativity.

“Do you ever feel like you’re chasing something you can’t quite reach?” you asked her, fiddling with the rim of your cup.

“All the time,” Caitlin said, her voice soft. “But I think that’s what makes it worth chasing.”

The turning point came after Caitlin invited you to one of her matches. Watching her play was like seeing a force of nature in action—she moved with a grace and intensity that left you in awe. Afterward, you joined her and her teammates for drinks, and for the first time, you saw Caitlin in her element.

But it wasn’t all easy.

“This is Y/N,” Caitlin said casually when someone asked who you were. “A friend.”

The word hit you like a slap. Friend.

You laughed it off at the time, masking your disappointment. But the sting lingered.

Later, back at your apartment, the tension boiled over.

“Caitlin,” you began, your voice trembling. “What are we doing?”

She froze, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “Are we just having fun, or is this something real?”

Her expression shifted, a flicker of panic crossing her features. “I thought we were just… enjoying each other’s company. Nothing too serious.”

The words gutted you. “So, this is just a fling to you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N, my life is complicated. Football comes first. It always has.”

“And I’m just supposed to be okay with that?” Your voice cracked.

She looked away, her silence louder than any words she could have said.

The days that followed were agonizing. Caitlin threw herself into her training, using the physical demands to drown out the ache in her chest. You poured your heartbreak into your art, channeling your emotions onto canvas after canvas.

One painting in particular consumed you—a portrait of Caitlin asleep on your couch, her features softened by the dim light. You titled it “Resting Player, Restless Heart.”

It wasn’t just a painting; it was a confession.

Caitlin couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time she scored a goal, every time she stood in a crowded locker room, her thoughts drifted to your smile, your laugh, the way you looked at her as if she were more than just an athlete.

“You’re miserable,” Sam Kerr said one evening, cornering Caitlin after practice.

“I’m fine,” Caitlin replied automatically.

Sam rolled her eyes. “You’re not fine. You’re an idiot. If you care about them, tell them. Don’t let this be another ‘what if.’”

The night of your second gallery show, Caitlin stood nervously outside the venue, her heart hammering in her chest. She hadn’t told you she was coming, hadn’t even been sure you’d want to see her.

Inside, the room buzzed with chatter. Your work lined the walls, each piece a testament to your talent and vulnerability. Caitlin’s gaze was drawn to a painting on the far wall—her own face, captured in sleep.

The title stopped her in her tracks. Resting Player, Restless Heart.

“Subtle,” she murmured as she approached you.

You turned, startled to see her. “Caitlin.”

“Hey.” She hesitated, her usual confidence nowhere to be found. “Can we talk?”

Outside, under the glow of the streetlights, Caitlin finally let her walls down.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Of how much I care about you. Of what it means if this isn’t just a fling.”

You crossed your arms, your expression guarded. “And now?”

“Now I know I don’t want to lose you,” Caitlin said, stepping closer. “If you’ll still have me, I want to try—for real this time.”

Your heart ached with hope and hesitation. “I want to try too. But I need to know you’re in this, Caitlin. All the way.”

She took your hands in hers, her grip firm but gentle. “I’m in. Completely.”

And as she kissed you under the London sky, you knew this wasn’t fleeting. It was forever.

[pupkashi]

MUA gojo satoru

a/n: just a quick fluffy drabble of reader and satoru doing each others makeup :] tysm for the request and let me know what you think <333

wordcount: 635

masterlist

you giggled as gojo’s tongue stuck out slightly, his brows furrowed as he worked on your eyeliner.

“stop laughing! you’re gonna move me and mess up my look” he scowled, you tried to bite back your laughter.

“I’m sorry MUA satoru, won’t happen again” you replied, causing him to smile, finishing up a terrible wing before nodding his head in approval and moving onto your other eye.

“i should quit Jujutsu and move into the make up world, don’t ya think sugar?” he holds up a mirror for you to look into.

a beat of silence, your eyes met gojos, pretty blue ones looking back at you. within seconds the two of you are in shambles on the floor laughing. satoru is wheezing and your stomach hurts from how hard you’re laughing, tears forming in your eyes.

“no! stop laughing” a wheeze, “your mascara is gonna” the sound of your hand hitting his back, “it’s gonna smear!” gojo tries his best to compose himself, biting his bottom lip to stifle his laughter as you sit back up.

somehow between giggles gojo manages to finish up your full face glam look, blush much too red and eyebrows reaching way too far down your face.

“my turn!” you smile, your brows furrowing when gojo starts laughing at you, he hands you the mirror wordlessly as he continues to giggle. “you got lipstick on my teeth!? i didn’t even open my mouth!”

its 30 minutes later when you’re instructing satoru to smile, brushing on the slightest amount of blush to the apple of his cheeks.

“oh satoru you look gorgeous! do you feel bonita? cause you look bonita” you smile, watching as he checks himself out in the small hand mirror, fluttering his eyes and blowing a kiss your way. you pretend to catch it, placing it over your heart.

“i feel bonita” he confirms, pulling his phone out and snapping a couple selfies of the two of you.

“how come you didn’t put mascara on me?” he pouted and you stared at him with a blank face.

“toru, your natural lashes are long enough for models around the world to be envious of, L’Oréal and Maybelline could create the ultimate mascara and it still wouldn’t give someone the beauty of your natural lashes” your statement has satoru puffing his chest a bit, smiling proudly and fluttering his lashes at you.

“just say you love me already” he teases, loving the way you smile and roll your eyes at him.

“hmm, you’re not my type” you tease back, causing him to tackle you to the ground, his lips finding yours. it’s a fun kiss, one where you’re both smiling and giggling into the kiss but never breaking apart, only pulling away when he realizes he’s spilled foundation on the floor.

the once loud music is now softly playing in the background as you finish wiping away the last bit of makeup from your boyfriends face, kissing the tip of his nose before mumbling a small ‘all done.’

he’s chasing after your lips and peppering kisses all over your face, smiling when you burst into giggles. “y’know im gonna keep practicing so that one day i can do your makeup perfectly,” there’s confidence in his voice as the two of you head into the restroom, grabbing your toothbrush and handing him his.

“i believe you, i mean look at these amazing nails!” you boasted, admiring the pretty blue color that matched his eyes, “but you have to buy my stuff when you inevitably use it all up,” gojo nodded immediately doing his best to smile despite the toothbrush in his mouth.

there’s silence as the two of you cuddle in bed, mumbling a ‘goodnight love you’ to each other before your eyes are closed and you’re on the brink of drifting off.

“what should i name my new YouTube channel?”