#short shots

[himboculture2]

[xmalereader]

• MoonKnight Sugar Daddy AU •

You can also find more stories under the MKSugardaddy tag and more stories can be found on my Main Masterlist too!

『 Warnings: Sugar daddy au, reader is the daddy, main pair is with Steven, mentions of DID, short stories, fluff, angst, Egyptian gods, Khonshu and Anubis, Jake and Marc are around, power, money, nsfw 18+ 』

〈 l 〉~ 〈 ll 〉~〈 lll 〉

Summary: After the events in Cairo, Khonshu finally frees them (not really) and both Steven and Marc are back to having a normal life. Steven tries to get his job back at the museum but Isn’t succeeding. So, what happens when the owner of the museum takes in interest in Steven and not only gets his job back but spoils the man with riches.

〔 Short Story 〕

〈 l 〉

Summary: Reader travels to Gotham to meet an old family friend with Steven coming along. ( A short story of the sugar daddy AU series with a slight crossover between Bruce Wayne and Steven grant )

〈 ll 〉

Summary: Steven hasn’t heard from the reader in weeks due to his busy schedule. Once he returns back from his work trip he pays him a visit only to find the reader sick and alone.

〈 lll 〉

Summary: Steven finally tells reader about Marc after a few months into their relationship, no longer wanting to keep his alter a secret from the person they love and care.

〈 lV 〉

Summary: Reader meets Jake and shows him his work as the avatar of Anubis along with revealing further secrets and starting a new friendship.

Ongoing…

【 Headcanons 】

Private Time

[rmhashauthor]

More Orphan Dreck

I found some more sci-fi... stuff... hanging out on my hard drive and while I don't have a single idea of what I was going to do with it, it did seem like something that kinda-sorta might belong on this very, very young blog. I love worldbuilding and creating new people, so perhaps treat this like an introduction to how my brain processes that. I don't think it needs a content warning, but there is a bit of suggestive language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cass leaped to the side, dodging a huge leg wrapped in a greenish fabric – part of an enormous jumpsuit studded with pockets and loops, jingling with tools and bits of metal. Looking up, she met with the wide, ivory-toothed grin of an enormous Dreen almost nine feet tall and the color of dark moss. “Whoa, sorry about that! You okay there?” the Dreen asked, reaching down to offer help. Cass offered her hand in return, tapping him on the knuckles with her fist. “I'm good, thanks!”

“Haven't seen you here before,” the Dreen crouched, putting himself on Cass's level. He was certainly the largest Dreen she'd ever seen, most being closer to eight feet than nine, but his height barely compared to his thickness – his massive arms and chest were swollen with muscle from years of hard work and his hands were scarred from welding burns and dozens of unknown cuts. “You new?”

“She is,” Captain Landa introduced Cass to the Dreen. “Cass, this is Duna, he's our general systems mechanic and main muscle. Duna, this is Cassiopeia, our new assistant pulse engines specialist.”

“Oh, nice! You're gonna be working with Ouran, then?”

“If she can find him,” Landa nodded. “Of course, you'll be expected to help out wherever you're needed.”

“I can do that,” Cass agreed, “a little variety never hurt anyone.”

“That's very true,” Duna looked her over, his great yellow eyes appraising. “A little variety is very nice.” The corner of his mouth turned up, the large double-fangs his people called dirks peeking out between his green lips. He leaned a little closer, speaking to Cass's ear. “If you like variety, you're gonna love this ship. Whatever your, ah, taste.” To make his point, the Dreen ran out a green tongue so long it touched below his chin.

Cass's cheeks heated and she chuckled, “I'll keep that in mind.” Absolutely!

“Duna,” Captain Landa warned, “chill. Give the girl at least a day before you try to get your claws on her.” She clapped a hand on Cass's shoulder. “Come on, you've still got the rest of the crew to meet. Duna, behave yourself.”

“It's more fun when I don't.” Duna gave Cass a wink. “See you at mess!”

Passing through the machining shop, Captain Landa took Cass by the welding bay. Among the sparks and stink of ozone and hot metal, several workers waved and a few put down their tools to come and greet them. As the hoods came off, Cass was somewhat not surprised to see that many of the sweaty, scarred, scorched humanoids were Drass. While Drass were still new to the Federation Alliance, the people from the recently-dismantled Drassian Empire were generally agreeable, they worked hard and they liked to drink. Cass accepted many handshakes and fist-taps from the semi-reptilian folk, men and women, and more than one appreciative glance. She spotted a pair, two brawny fellows wearing thick fire-retardant aprons hanging out by the smelting pots, gesturing towards her and nodding. Like all Drass, their forearms and shoulders were plated with thick scales and these were pock-marked with burn scars. She waved, and the two waved back with enthusiasm, sharing a look.

Continuing through the ship's many bays, workshops, storage rooms and communal areas, Cass saw many types of folk – aside from the Dreen and the Drass, she saw Juun, Ruku, Mynx, Nuani, Arakan, several kinds of humans, and more, all various sizes, colors, types and even a few hybrids. All seemed friendly, all greeted their captain with respect. “You've got quite the mixed bag here,” Cass commented.

“I take pride in having a colorful ship,” Captain Landa said, “and I make sure everyone feels welcome. Those who don't usually hop off at the next port stop, but over the years we get more and more keepers. Should be pretty easy to find some friends among your new crew-mates – but if anyone gives you any problems you bring it to me.”

“Don't you have an HR department?”

“I am the HR department.”

“Ah, I see. So, where are we headed?”

“Pulse engine bay, where you'll be working most of the time.” Landa led Cass into a lift. “Usually Ouran keeps things running without any help, but even a Leagan needs an extra hand once in a while.”

“Wait a minute,” Cass turned to Landa, “you have a Leagan?”

“Sure do,” Landa nodded, “best goddamn pulse engine spec in the sector, far as I'm concerned. You never seen one?”

“Not up close.”

“Well, don't get your hopes up,” Landa punched a code and the lift descended. “Leagans are a shy bunch, but Ouran is the shyest of them all. He had an accident a few years ago and he's pretty self-conscious about his looks. I think you'll be lucky if you see him once every six months or so, and even then it'll probably just be his shadow.”

“How am I supposed to work with someone I can't see?”

“You'll get your work orders, like anyone else. Keep your log up to date and you won't have any issues. Oh! Here,” Landa rummaged in a pocket and brought out a black rectangle. “Ixi has a good hand with small electronics, she worked this up for me a while back.”

“A smartphone?” Cass took it, disbelieving. “This thing belongs in a museum!”

“Ouran doesn't talk, so you'll need one of these to keep in touch with him.”

“He can't talk?”

“Well, he can, but he chooses not to. If you ever do see him, you'll understand why. He prefers to text – Ixi fixed it so it connects to the ship's wireless, and she did something that makes it hop frequencies so no matter where you are, if you're in reach of a signal you can get to him. My link's in there too, if you need me.”

Cass powered the device on, shaking her head as the phone – A smartphone? Really? - screen glowed. A message, a picture of Ixi grinning at the camera, welcomed Cass to the phone's operating system as it booted up. Cass grinned. What a weird bunch.

“And here's the pulse bay,” Landa tapped the lift gate and it slid open. Cass stepped out into a dank, industrial tangle of ladders, chains, pipes, tanks, massive control panels and snarls of wire and tubing. Oh damn, feels like home already. She turned as Landa balled up her fist and banged on a nearby steel plate. The sound reverberated like a gong through the space, chains rattling and liquid dripping in response. “Ouran!” Landa called, “I brought our new recruit down to see the works!” Landa stopped banging, laughing as she turned back to Cass. “If you want to get his attention, just bang on something. He'll hear you. Ain't that right?” Landa looked up and Cass tried to follow, but she saw nothing. “You won't see him, but he's probably looking at you right now. Hey, Ouran? Cass has one of Ixi's phones, nine-seven-seven-six-Alpha-Charlie-Zulu!”

In her pocket, Cass's phone buzzed. Zzt-zzt! “That was fast,” Landa commented. Cass pulled it out, met by a notification that she had a message. Cass read the screen: Hey.

“She got it!” Landa called, and from overhead Cass heard a distinctive pattern tapped on the pipes: tap-tap...tap. “That's him,” Landa said, “two taps and a pause is 'yes', if he does it backwards it's 'no'.”

“Got it. So he really doesn't talk?”

“Not a word since his accident. Which is a shame, he's a really nice guy. Anyway, if you don't mind the quiet ones you two will get along fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I vaguely remember now what I was going to do with this - sort of a Phantom of the Opera meets Red Dwarf situation. I might get around to it eventually, IDK. I have a LOT of these orphan bits floating around, occupying various corners of this little imaginary universe in my head, maybe they'll turn into something.

[trashhearts67]

it is 5 am and one brother turns to the other, hope creeping in the space behind his teeth

but Fate has other plans-- whispers,"not yet," and forces him to swallow bitter disappointment

it's 6 am and one brother leaves the other, trailing a blood red thread that'll forever snag on everything

"give it a moment," is murmured from the footwell of a car, from the front door of a home, from the very atoms surrounding two brothers waiting for their story to begin

the clock is on fire, when it happens, but they're right on time anyway

- destined, a soul mates short shot

it's 5:20 am and dean literally looked at sam like he was about to make the worst mistake of his life by letting sam go back to stanford. but he was still going to do it

[dootznbootz]

It saddens me that Helen of SPARTA is mostly known as Helen of TROY. As if she wasn't born, raised, and most likely, died in Sparta. Yes, she was of TROY for a while...But she was able to go back home to where she WANTED TO BE.

(Edit: Hating on Menelaus is illegal)

[samaraxmorgan]

It seems like once again you’ve accidentally found a way to annoy the life out of your roommate Sukuna. You’ve been playing your favorite song on repeat, over and over and over again when you’re in the shower, cleaning up around the apartment, he’s even caught you humming it while cooking.

And maybe he wouldn’t be so frustrated with it if he liked the song, but he really truly doesn’t. Too much of a stubborn metal head to even give it a chance. Or at least that’s what you thought.

He swears up and down that he hates that stupid song, but when you come home early from work you can hear something up in his room, his guitar. You always assumed he only had that thing for decoration, shiny dark red and signed in black sharpie by him and his friends hanging up on the wall collecting dust, but it turns out he actually plays.

And what does he play in particular? Your favorite song when he thinks you can’t hear it. Now you just have to decide if you’re gonna have this knowledge be your little secret, or if you’re gonna embarrass him later when you tell him about the time you caught him being a little liar.

Your Roommate Sukuna series masterlist here!!

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!! Divider by @adornedwithlight

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN |＜ATE＞ UNVEIL : TRACK "STRAY KIDS"

[moonyflesh]

🐾 Cat Scratches - [James “Logan” Howlett x Reader]

WARNINGS: lots of fluff, brief mention of neck kisses, some suggestive comments but nothing past PG

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (Wolverine, MARVEL/X-MEN)

🐾 .*.. 🕯️

Logan laid comfortably on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your lower back and hips as he buried his face into your abdomen, the bare skin of your tummy visible just slightly underneath your sweater.

Lazily scrolling through your phone, splayed out across his bed with him on top of you, your fingers trailed over his upper shoulders, scratching the fabric of his white compression shirt, rubbing his sore muscles from a long day of training and battle practice.

As your fingers trailed upwards mindlessly on his back, your manicured nails finally reached the nape of his neck, teasing the edge of his hairline.

Scrolling down further through your instagram, you let out a soft sigh of content as your fingers finally buried into the hair on the back of his head, eliciting a low rumble from the back of his throat.

You perked up at this, glancing past the dimmed screen of your device, an eyebrow quirked upwards at his reaction.

“You alright, Lo?”

You muttered out, a small, curious smile tugging at your glossy lips, damp from your teeth gently biting at them out of unconscious habit.

“Mmmh,”

He responded in a low hum, leaning into your fingers as you smiled, a small, amused chuckle leaving your lips at his fingers that slid lower on your back, cupping the backs of your thighs with a slightly possessive grip.

You felt a soft, warm press of his chapped lips against your stomach, just above your panty line, and a small laugh left your lips as he buried his nose further into you, inhaling without hesitation. In response, your legs opened slightly underneath him, wrapping them around his broad midsection with a light squeeze.

Preferring the man in front of you opposed to the celebrities on your phone, you dropped it at your side, letting it become lost in the fluffy, unkept sheets next to your form as both your hands wrapped around his head, burying your fingers into his scalp.

A low, animalistic-like growl left his lips as you scratched through his hair, meeting the place behind his ears, where you knew he was most sensitive.

Tracing over the area where his jaw connected to his ear and neck, you let out a low hum in response, tilting your head propped up on one of his pillows to the side, your eyebrows knitting together lightly in curiosity at his pleasant reactions.

“Feels good, bub. Right- mmh. There.”

Your eyes narrowed at his borderline inappropriate hum, and you nodded, wordlessly continuing to scrape through his fluffy, unkept hair.

“I didn’t take you for a cat, Logan,” You teased quietly, a small vibration leaving your own form, similar to that of the buzz of an old stereo.

“Don’t mock me, sweetheart. Can’t help it,”

He shot back, his furry eyebrows knitting together as he finally shifted, pulling himself up further, allowing his face to move from your stomach to your collarbone, trying desperately not to go full deadweight on you, knowing he’d crush your frail form.

“Plus, ever since you got yer nails done-”

He didn’t finish his sentence as you raked through his head of hair once more, pushing his face into the warm skin of your exposed neck, muffling any protest from him.

“Stop talking, James. Sleep.”

You effectively hushed him, a small smile pulling at your face as he grumbled out something along the lines of ‘mm. Whatever,’ and ‘fine.’

You felt him pepper a few hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth teasingly biting down on your exposed shoulder, before lapping at the new mark with his tongue, admiring his work with your taste.

“G’night, bub.”

You smiled at his subtle acceptance to your demand, your fingers frozen in his fluffy hair and partially in his long side shaves, nodding.

“Goodnight, kitty.”

[olailamajnoon]

Jason appeared one morning on a summer's day. He was fresh and clean, and missing his customary violent tissue scars.

Bruce saw him enter the Manor, and held his breath. He didn't want to shake anything, shake the universe in any way to make Jason go away.

It's a dream, he said to himself. The Red Hood swallowed up my son. It's a dream.

Dream-Jason spoke up, munching Froot-n-Nuts in the kitchen. "Bruce. Where the fuck is everyone?"

Bruce stared in horror. Jason's face was clean of any hate. Why? He knew, then, that something was Very Wrong.

"No one is here," he said casually. "The house is empty, as you can see."

Jason nodded okay, and moved to go upstairs. "Jason," Bruce called. "What are you doing?"

"Going to my room!" Jason called. "I wanna see it! I know I don't live here anymore, but—I wanna see."

"Okay," said Bruce, already speed-dialling Dick. "Jason! Don't run up the stairs!"

"Okay," Jason called meekly.

Dick arrived in half an hour, to find Bruce and Jason sitting next to each other, watching Prince of Egypt.

"Wha—" he almost said, but Bruce shushed him with a finger. "Come, take a seat!" Jason called.

"Wha—" said Dick again, but then he caught Bruce's gaze from the corner of his eye. Bruce was warning him to keep silent.

When there was a popcorn break, Dick and Bruce conferred in the kitchen.

"The last thing he remembers," said Bruce, "is Zatanna."

"Zatanna did this?"

"She hasn't been answering my calls." Bruce roamed angrily, his hands tight by his sides. "She fucked with my son."

"She took away his anger! His—" Dick searched for a word.

"Hate," said Bruce. "That's what you're looking for."

"And without those things? He's like a lobotomized sheep!" Dick was angrier than Bruce had ever seen him. But then a sound came from inside the room, and both Dick and Bruce opened the door to find Jason playing with a sleepy Ace. The loyal old dog was licking Jason's fingers, and Jason was laughing.

Literally and actually laughing.

The two men looked at the boy Jason had become. The wonder and innocence in his eyes.

"Is this what he would have been like," Bruce murmured deadly, "if the world hadn't found him and taken him apart."

"I don't know," said Dick, with hot bitter desperation, "but that kid in there? That's not Jason. Not my brother."

"Hey Dick!" Jason called, and then snickered. "You remember how we used to take Ace out on walks while it was freezing, after making him wear the dog sweater?"

And Dick looked numbly at Jason's expectant, childlike face, and burst into tears.

[lilacxquartz]

love you, need you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: although it couldn’t psychically happen, mr. crawling found himself obsessed with getting you pregnant — themes: smut, breeding kink, needy/clingy behaviour, no dialogue — a/n: via request for a breeding kink imagine with him, hope this is okay! — w.c: 700ish • ao3 • masterlist ♡

Mr. Crawling often doted on you like there was no tomorrow; often lingering in the depths of your shadow like a constantly looming presence. He was always there when you went to bed and was already tethered to your side by the time you woke up. At first, you had no idea what to think, but over time, you grew to love and even anticipate his company.

And lately, his hands kept running over to palm against your bare stomach with an almost thoughtful, wistful stare. He’d press his lips against the soft contours of your abdomen, his cold breath ghosting along your flesh—dreaming of everything could have been—had the two of you been alive.

Such spiralling thoughts left him nothing short of needy and he’d latch onto you with much more fervour than ever before, his touches becoming heated, almost scalding, if even worshipping.

Mr. Crawling subtly crept into such magnitudes of adoration though, starting off real slow and gentle with longing cuddles, pressing lazy kisses into your skin whenever he could. He’d then move on nipping down your collarbone, to your chest, to wherever he could—down to your stomach, to your hips—to the deep apex of your inner thighs.

Slowly, he surrendered himself to you like you were some sort of god, his intentions loud and clear. Nights of professed passion soon passed by on a nightly basis, finding himself pushing—rutting away almost like a man crazed into your core—wanting to experience you again and again.

His hands would drift back to your stomach after a while too, pretending that it all had worked, growing close to crazed at the idea of it somehow being possible. You didn’t mind too much whenever he got this way, though, loving it all the same. There was something special about the way he loved you, after all, and especially so in the way that he fucked you.

And as if right on clockwork, Mr. Crawling settled right beside you in bed, not wasting a single second before he moved to hover over you. His frame towered over yours, easily swallowing you whole with his presence and after a while, he was ready to try again.

His lips crashed against yours and the rest of him settled right into you; your lips shuddering out an anticipated gasp as he positioned the tip of his cock slick into your soaked sex, sliding right into you, thrusting forward as a strained, barely contained whimper choked out of him.

Mr. Crawling always had such a cutely flustered look of focus too, as he succumbed to the sensation of you. His lower lip quivered and his cheeks grew a warm blushed red, barely containing his composure as he drove himself into you. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean not to be gentle as this happened, but it was that you—your body—left him overwhelmed, so he simply just… lost himself in the moment, that was all. The idea in his mind was so intoxicating; the thought of seeing you so perfectly swollen with the aftermath of his love—the concept of what could have been—all pushed him to go harder than he had meant to.

And even though he loved you so, his guilt subsided whenever he caught wind of the pure and utter bliss written all over your face—of your pretty, breathless moans that rolled out in sharp, ragged gasps. As your hands searched for his, interlocking and squeezing hard. As your insides clenched around his girth, feeling yourself come undone all the while he rendered you into a sopping, equally whining mess.

At last, Mr. Crawling violently trembled above you, his body giving way into a brutally recoiled stutter, his moans growing just as loud as yours while riding out the end of a desperate climax. He grunted, squeezing you tight against his body, milking himself directly into your cunt, yet not quite leaving despite how spent he felt.

So obsessed with the thought of filling you up, Mr. Crawling couldn’t bring himself to leave—he loved you so much, after all.

Enough to imagine what could have been.

Enough to believe that it could actually happen.

[riggerbison]

JOONG & DUNK IN MV FOR เจ้าความรัก (HURT ME PLEASE) - JOONG ARCHEN

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

1x1 | 2x1 | 3x1 | 4x1

[f1amour]

🍮 with lando norris and this prompt from one of the fluffy concepts please! ‘i could just eat you up’

❝ i could just eat you up ❞ — lando norris

pairing | lando norris x reader

content warnings | grumpy reader, fluff, suggestive content

★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !

─────────────────────────

“lando! we came to buy food we can actually survive off of not candy,” you groan as your boyfriend catches up with you at the fruit and vegetable aisle. you loved sweets just as much as lando did but he had the tendency to purchase food that was not apart of his diet or he’d buy all kinds of sauces only to not buy pasta to pair it with.

“come on baby, it’s chocolate! you love chocolate,” he smiles throwing the bag into the cart and you shake your head as you pack some fruits into a bag and in your cart. “i do love chocolate, lan. but we don’t need a five pound bag of it. what vegetables do you want?” you ask holding up some broccoli and asparagus.

lando grimaces, “neither. can we grab some cereal?” he wraps his arms around your waist as you push the cart. “lando, we really gotta finish this. your mom and dad are visiting this week we need edible food for them! we’ll get your cereal after, okay?” he nods and gives you a cheeky smile before following you around for the next twenty minutes is filled with comfortable silence as you grab everything you need. anything that you needed on the top shelf you couldn’t reach lando would grab it for you and in return you’d give him a kiss.

“now we get your cereal, go wild!” you chuckle getting to the cereal aisle and lando runs off to grab his go to cereal and then he grabs another throwing the boxes in the cart. “what’s this?” you point to the colorful box and he smiles at you, “it’s your favorite. you never buy it because it’s too sugary and i can’t eat it during my diet. so i grabbed it for you,” he looks at you waiting for a smile to pop on your face but nothing.

“ah come on, grumps. gimme a smile.” he poked your cheek and you giggle giving him exactly what he wanted. lando pulls you into a kiss, “atta girl. you are so perfect…i could just eat you up,” his hands pat your bum and you seat him away, “lan! we’re in public.” you blush trying to keep his hands away from you as you check out.

he swipes his card and packs the bags up, “alright, let’s get home so i could eat you…out”

“lando!”

[floralscented]

bed chem — jj maybank x pogue!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, pogue!reader. best friends... with benefits?. making out. fade to black ending.

❛ how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things, that's bed chem! ❜

jj was very obvious in the way that he wanted you. he’d preach the outdated no pogue on pogue macking rule to the moon and back, and then show up at your house, practically down on his knees begging for just one chance.

just one! he’d treat you so right, that’s all he needed. 

and you did love him, he was one of your best friends, but you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship for one night with him. he was hot, but not hot enough to lose. 

you two were practically attached at the hip. you spent every moment with him, or him and the rest of the pogues, and he spent every moment with you that he wasn’t crashing at john b’s. 

it really was inevitable, that slowburning transition between friendship to attraction. you just thought that you’d always be strong enough to ignore it. 

but you’d never been this high with jj before. he always kept a blunt on him, especially on days that he came to see you, but this time, he’d brought a sketchy looking bag of edibles along with him. “ricky made ‘em,” he’d snickered on his way into your house, shoving the door open with his shoulder before you could even fully open it, “and they work fuckin�� good.” 

and so you ate an entirety of one of the brownies ( because jj dared you wouldn’t do the whole thing, and you can’t just let him win ) and you shared the blunt with jj while the sunset dipped into deeper shades of orange. 

and jj stares at you like you were the one responsible for hanging the moon poking between the trees. 

and you stare back. 

and suddenly he’s leaning in, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, does it? his white jacket clings to his strong frame, tight around the shoulders, and at some point he’d lost his shirt even though he immediately started complaining about being cold, and you can see th expanse of his muscles from his chest down to—

“nuh uh,” you say once his nose brushes yours, shoving him away with a palm over his face. “this is a bad idea.” 

your voice sounds weak in your own ears. and it must be even worse in jj’s, because his grin is lazy and borderline a smirk, chapped lips against the heel of your palm. 

“m’not really one for good ideas,” he mumbles, and his lips trail a hot line from your palm and up; your inner wrist, the inside of your arm. 

shivers trail down your spine from those simple touches alone. heat pools in your lower stomach, lower, and it’s a bit embarrassing that such little things are affecting you like this; but you’re about as baked as those brownies, and it’s not really you’re fault. 

“mm, i’m gettin’ to ya,” jj says, and for a second, the illusion he had you under shatters. he always ruins it by opening his mouth, reminding you that he’s still that best friend of yours since you were toddling around the sandy shores outside of his house. 

unfortunately for you, that’s seeming less like a factor to keep him away from you and more like a reason to pull him closer. in reality, who else out there would know what you liked and needed better than someone that’d seen you almost drown a few times when learning to swim? or was there and helped after you greened out for the first time? 

yeah. he really was getting to you. 

but you honestly didn’t seem to mind much at that point, with the way your fist uncurls and your fingers land in his hair, pushing back the soft, tangled strands from his forehead. 

his eyes close. yours stay open. and in a blink, you’re leaning over the edge of the porch chair you’d been sitting in, and your fingers are using the light grip you had on his hair to pull him closer. 

and you’re kissing him. god, you’re kissing jj maybank. he’d seen you in diapers. you’d seen him drink so much that he threw up three times in the same ten minutes. he’d seen you cry over wilting flowers when you were high. you’d seen him eat a cricket for five bucks. 

there wasn’t anyone else in the world, you realized, that you wanted between your legs than him. right now. like, right now. 

he’s already got his tongue past the barricade of your closed lips, half raised out of his own chair so he can grab onto the front of your shirt and pull you closer into him. 

he tastes like dark chocolate and weed and bad decisions. he tastes like the best thing you’d ever put in your mouth. 

before you know it, he’s dragged you into his lap, his back falling haphazardly backwards until it presses into the pillowed cushion behind him. his hands are on your ass, fingers digging into the soft skin beneath your shorts. 

“think we should go inside,” he mumbles into your mouth, barely making the effort to stop kissing you to push the words out of his lips. “don’t want you gettin’ mosquito bites on your pussy because of me or somethin’.” 

you splutter out a laugh, breaking the kiss to shove firmly at his chest. “oh my god, jj.” 

“oh my god, jj,” he mocks in a higher cadence, leaning up to capture your lips in another lazy, slow kiss. “you gonna let me hear you cry that out tonight, or you just gonna blue ball me again?” 

he was so infuriating sometimes. so stupid, and infuriating — so why was your mouth drying up all of a sudden at the thought of getting him in bed with you? 

it must show on your face, too, every stage of denial you tried to enforce on yourself before you conceded, because his red-rimmed blue eyes darken. 

jj’s hands slip down from your ass to your thighs, scooping you up and standing in one fell swoop. you’d think it was impressive for how inebriated it was — if he wasn’t high all the time enough to have gotten good at this kind of thing. 

you don’t regret anything. at least, right then you didn’t. not when he knows without having to ask where your bedroom is, and not when you know he intends to make well on his promise to only need a night to get you addicted.

[hsunrry]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

twitter // requests are open, so feel free to ask! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

i’m posting as often as i can!

english is not my first language, so sorry if there’s any typos or something! enjoy!

newest on the top!

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬⊹ ࣪ ˖

christmas lights (smut)

• shy (smut)

• coachella (smut)

• date night (smut, angst)

• it's positive (smut)

• you can take it (smut)

• you're not the problem (smut)

• water whale (smut)

• best i've ever had (smut)

• new side (smut)

• are you fucking hard? (smut)

• fairy lights (smut, fluff)

• don't leave me (smut, angst)

• pretty boy (smut)

• moustache | moustache 2 (smut)

• perfumes (smut)

• argument (smut, angst)

• college teacher (smut)

• home alone (smut)

• safe word (smut)

• sweet release (smut)

• ring (fluff)

• assistant (smut)

• special room (smut)

• witch (smut)

• about you (smut)

• wedding (smut, angst)

• ghostface (smut)

• online meeting (smut)

• new year's eve (smut)

• dressing room (smut)

• nurse (smut)

• lights up (smut)

• princess (smut)

• love triangle (smut)

• location (smut)

• winter house (smut, angst)

• teacher (smut)

• lesson (smut)

• princess (smut)

• first time? (smut)

• study session (smut)

• hockey (smut)

• dressing room (smut)

• car ride (smut)

• new pillow (smut)

• roommates (smut)

• app (smut)

• summer house | summer house 2 (smut)

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬⊹ ࣪ ˖

• innocent (smut)

• are you fucking hard? (smut)

• better (smut)

• argument (smut)

[legionofpotatoes]

The Demon of Vyrantium