#staying in ur own goddamn place

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

btw my neighbour decided to bang on the building’s downstairs windows at 1.30 AM when I was almost asleep and terrified me half to death. i heard talking outside so i opened my window in hopes of finding out what the hell was going on and then i was met with a HI. that was not from someone who would tell me what was going on so i promptly shut the window. TERRIFIED even more and i was becoming scared that the dude had stalked me was having an episode and coming for me

u know what it was. my upstairs neighbour couldnt find his cat. i have NO IDEA why youd start banging on windows. id understand panic but theres literally a number he can call and someone would go and help him. bro i get it we all have issues but you could like not terrify everyone maybe. like i could even understand you trashing your own place in a breakdown but please dont go walking around absolutely terrifying everyone

[ridingtorohan]

hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

[maiiuelle]

what if rafe and reader are more than friends but they didn’t really put a label on it and even top and kelce noticed but rafe still has the occasional hookup and one night when reader was js thinking abt stuff and then she realizes that shes inlove with rafe but when she came over to tannyhill to confess and rafe answered with his hair all messed up and him shirtless and he basically smelled like sex and when rafe asks why shes there she randomly just runs away and cries in her car while driving home so basically just angst (does that make sense idk)

you feel like your going crazy, standing at tannyhill’s front stoop twiddling your thumbs.

your relationship with rafe cameron is complicated; you’d almost call it a situationship, but you couldn’t put a label on it. you’d been going to all of his parties to serve as arm candy, posed with him at the golf course, and hooked up with him more than once. it’s beyond casual, but he has yet to pop the girlfriend question. even with his little commitment, you’d been finding it hard to keep your mind off of him — or rather, what the two of you had done together. you have to mean more to him than he’s letting on.

so, you knock on tannyhill’s giant glass front door again, biting your lip nervously as you look over the texts you’d already sent him to let him know you were coming.

“hey! just thinking ab u.. are u free tn? <3” you asked right after work, hopping in the shower in hopes you could head straight to his place after.

“busy. work shit. u free on friday?”

“oh idk. sucks we cant do tn, i miss u.” you followed your message with a picture of you sitting on your pink bedsheets, posing in the mirror to show off your silky pajamas. you thought he just needed a little convincing, but he didn’t respond.

“can u call me before bed? sorry, i know u said ur busy.”

by then it had been an hour or two, still no response from rafe. you were pacing around your room. all you wanted was to spend time with him, even if that meant lounging around while he works. anything would do, you just couldn’t stay away.

you came to the conclusion had to show him how much you care somehow, and what better way than to go to tannyhill and confess your love for him — it would be like a romance movie, he’d probably be exhausted from work and happy to see you by then!

“i’m sorry if this is sudden, i just feel like i really need to see you. i’ll just drop by for a second xoxo see u soon”

suddenly, the front door swings open, revealing a very disheveled rafe cameron. his bangs are a mess, sweaty and strewn across his forehead. his whole face is red, his lips swollen, and all he’s wearing are blue flannel pajama pants. you’d seen him like this before, pussy drunk and stumbling around a dark room. your heart deflates as he pushes open the front door, familiar blue eyes squinting at you through the night. “the fuck are you doing? you’re gonna wake up my fuckin’ dad.”

“work shit, huh? really, rafe?” you snap, looking him over completely disgusted. “what’re you d—”

“nah, nah. i told you i was busy — did i not?” he cuts you off, holding a finger in your face and grabbing your upper arm with the other hand, making you jump. “could’a kept yourself from all this if you just listened to me, right? right?” he jostles you, like he could shake a response out of you, but you’re frozen. he lets you go at the sight of your face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “fuckin’ figures.”

“are you.. high?” you pull your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, tears already beginning to brim your waterline at the utter betrayal.

rafe recoils, acting overly offended to take the heat off his obvious cheating. “you’re gonna talk to me like that at my own goddamn house? do me a favor — go home, and i’ll think about callin’ you.”

“don’t bother. asshole.” you cry, turning away. the last glimmer of hope you have is snuffed out when you hear the glass door slam behind him, leaving you alone once again.

defeated, you retreat back to your car, wiping your tear stained cheeks pitifully. you should have known, rafe cameron is a player.

➺ do you…

⟡ hear out rafe’s apology

OR

⟡ tell jj what rafe did

[satoruhour]

hello :) may i ask a husband nanami headcanons? your so talented!

a/n: ty anon !!! i hope u like this :3

warnings: (in second half of post) pregnancy kink? breeding / creampie kink ofc, consensual somnophilia, praise, pet names

i. sfw headcanons

nanami is so sweet when he first proposes to you! ofc you have sex on the daily or weekly but when he’s reading his speech to you when he’s kneeling down it’s so sweet that you cry

and this dude wonders why you’re tearing up when his words literally mirror a poet’s LMFAO

nanami proposes at a quiet place only the two of you frequent, to avoid unwanted attention like crowds (he’s just thinking about gojo and how annoying he would be)

but also because he just wants it to be as special as he can make it out to be

honestly, if the whole kuantan thing works out he would love to propose there while the waves and horizon set the scene naturally. like he already knew he wanted to retire from being a jujutsu sorcerer here but he just melts when you’re here too. everything wrapped up in one, and the tear-filled “yes!!!” makes him jump and warms his heart

has a dinner laid out for you and everything and if the beach is deserted he wouldn’t mind having u right there LOL hes quiet but freaky just sayin’ !!!

when you walk down the aisle he cries. really

and is now obsessed with how he can call you ”his wife” as opposed to “his girl” 

okay but now on to the domesticity. the dynamics are almost the same: he isn’t against you heading out to earn your own money, and he’s more than happy to be a stay-at-home husband if you want him to, but seeing you in your cute apron has him already thinking of family and how you would bounce the baby on your arm as you prepare dinner

nanami is more doting when he’s your husband, not that he wasn’t before, but he thinks it’s the old age when he sees your leg cramp and he massages it or when you squint at your book so he turns up your lamp to a higher setting

also likes to flaunt off his wedding ring, albeit with flushed cheeks. he does it when he drinks tea, sliding gojo his paper work, polishing his weapon and it’s silent, laidback bragging and only gets annoyed when gojo asks about it

if anyone else does it he’s happy to talk about you lol

is a lot more slack when it comes to his salary and treating you to things, saying things like “oh, it’s okay, my pretty wife deserves this”

nanami does his part of the housework now that you’re permanently living together and pulls his weight — buying cleaning supplies, folding the laundry, buying food for the dog

he doesn’t care much about gender roles and is willing to show you that a good husband shouldn’t just be a milestone to complete and then immediately refuses to participate in household work

deadbeat husbands = boooooo

for now you’re still busy as jujutsu sorcerers, but after a year or two of being married he’s trying to convince you to take less missions, partially because he’s afraid of curses taking advantage of your relationship (not that they didnt before, but now they have a leverage against you) and marriage to hold either of you hostage

but the main reason for the persuasion is because he wanted a kid. and you step back in shock because nanami kento? wanting a kid? it seemed so out of character for him but considering how much he liked to come in you… was already pretty telling

like he loved the dog but also wanted like. biological kids. it was wild, he knows, even when you tell gojo (he’s still a little mad that you did, but it was an accident), even the six-eyes user was pretty surprised.

when the kid comes he’s just. crying again. he really loves you so much, and the fact that you carried a baby for nine months and was in pain for 12 hours and then pushed a whole ass baby out ur vagina? goddamn

you two name her nanami kumiko and he holds her like she’s the only one in the world (besides you), cooing gently as how the baby seem to snuggle into his warmth

he gives her a danish name too: ida, but he’s not sure if he should include it in the birth certificate, so he didn’t

he is very protective of his girl, especially how you techniques seemed to be passed down and how the jujutsu society might be seeking out your offspring in kuantan, but he makes sure no one comes close to the two of you, even asking gojo reluctantly to monitor any news of the higher-ups looking to ruin her childhood

nanami really thinks it’s age now, because he find it so hard to say no to your baby girl whenever she asks for something — whether non-verbal or verbal

is a calm dad, usually burping the baby after you feed her, changing her diapers, etc., even suggesting bonding by holding her close with skin-to-skin contact and you're surprised he even knows about that

you give in when you see that he does it anyway, rocking the baby softly on the balcony with his top off, already knowing she’s going to be a daddy’s girl when she grows up

spoils his daughter but still disciplines her when it’s necessary, but he reverts to gentle parenting when he needs to. learns how to tie hair because of her, teaches her about manners and consent and tells her he has no problem if she decides to punch a guy one day. she’s just confused lol, why would i need to do that, dad?

bless him, she got your kind disposition, but yeah he emphasises that she should stand up for herself if needed

during pregnancy, he’s also making sure you never lift a finger, running across the house to complete errands, going out to buy your cravings and regulating your diet. it’s pretty cute but nanami is sometimes really strict about what you eat because he doesn’t want your health to decline lol

“just one cup of coffee… please?”

nanami only grunts in disapproval, hoping a peck to your forehead can wake you up, ”no.”

okay but that’s a lot, i have a lot of Thoughts

now…. 

ii. nsfw headcanons

building on that hc earlier abt going from calling you ”his girl” to ”his wife”, he uses it so much in the bedroom you’d think it was a fetish

and you kinda understand it, there’s the jump of your heart when he introduces you as “his wife” compared to a mere girlfriend

honest to god, coming home that day and seeing you cook wasn’t the first time he’s thought of having a kid. it’s happened many times before, seeing you interact with the first-years, guiding a first-grader home after a mission

and sure he’s done it before, but you’re always on the pill and he has really really thought of getting a vasectomy, but then he thinks of how cute you’d look with a round belly, carrying his baby and that glow that he knows he’s the reason for

so the day he proposes to you, he fucks you like an animal, cumming deep in you with choked groans and fills you up.

wedding night? same thing

but what really got him going was after he told you about wanting a kid, and you begging with those eyes of yours is what drove that string to snap. “i w-want you— shit— to fuck a baby into me, kento!” 

wheew and he goes insane. nanami loves it when you beg for his cum, legs locked around his body to get him to do it. you’re relentless too, spreading your folds for him as his cum seeps out slowly and soon he’s fucking his cum deep into you again, filling you up two, three, four times

and he doesn’t exactly care if that time doesn’t work because now he knows you aren’t taking contraception so he just does it regularly for good measure.

you aren’t complaining because you’ve never seen nanami so feral when he’s pushing his cum deep into you, whether it’s with his cock or with his fingers. that period before your pregnancy was so fulfilling that you wouldn’t mind pushing out another baby for your husband, if it meant getting railed by a man on a mission to make you a mommy

by god he fucks you on every surface of the house

when you’re pregnant too, you can’t help but get wet bc of your hormones and sometimes comes home from work, tired and needing some relief

he finds relief between your legs when you’re sleeping, talking about how nice it was to get used while sleeping, but you didn’t expect nanami to utilise it while you’re pregnant. you wince and groan as you sit up, but you need to see your husband lapping at your cunt immediately, moaning into your core like a starved man

but ofc nanami is a lot gentler when you’re pregnant. he offers to do the work, thrusts gentler and less impactful, but he still feels so good

a few years after marriage, sex is still an ongoing thing, but it’s converted more into love-making and lazy intercourse because you weren’t exactly young. sure you both would go crazy a few times a week but it was difficult with a maturing kid in the room next to yours.

you both would also take the time to discover other kinks!!! always busy, it was a difficult thing to do, but in between taking care of kumiko and handling lighter missions, you’d find new ways to continue keeping your love and sex life exciting

nanami liked going slow with you too though whispering into your ears endless praises of how you were doing do well, settling into missionary so he could see how his thrusts still had the same effect it did on you years ago

“doing so well, sweetheart. that’s it… my pretty wife’s such a good girl f’r me.” 

nanami wasn’t against a second child, but sometimes he sees how much you go through in labour and in pregnancy that he becomes lightheaded with what could happen to you, especially with the unexpected illnesses that come with pregnancies. he told himself he would only grant you another if you ask for it

but then one day when kumiko prances up to you in the midst of her math homework, asking when she would get a little sibling and youre taken aback while nanami just chokes on his tea

yeah, sure, you taught her sex education way before her peers and how babies are made but you didn’t expect to actually ask the two of you straight up about having a sister or brother

that night, you mulled over the decision, and nanami mumbles into your neck from the back, ”don’t worry about kumiko, baby. she’ll probably forget it sooner or later.”

“but what if i want to give her one though?” you mumble, your smaller hand guiding his lower and lower…

“do you want to?” nanami only can suck in a breath when he feels your throbbing cunt, your nimble fingers showing his how you liked your clit to be rubbed. even if he knows you inside out he still lets you do it, “i do… do you, kento?”

his first name is whispered, breaking the tension and nanami has to hold himself back from handling you too roughly, loving the way you grin languidly.

oh, here comes round 2!

omg headcanons are so fun lol i never wrote 1k words so fast since they’re informal and chill

[2knightt]

HI I SAW UR REQUESTS OPEN AND IMMEDIAYELY SCRAMBLED TO WRITE THIS

idk if this makes sense, but smth like ponyboy x academic-rival!soc!reader? like they’re compared to each other a lot. they have quiet passive aggressive arguments. and they’re always on each other’s mind.. “for some reason.”

i was thinking like maybe ponyboy finds reader in some compromising position. like, maybe they’re getting bothered at the drive-in and he steps in (he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he does it) and sticks up for reader— and it leads to them learning more about each other in the process?

loll idk if this makes sense but your writing’s actually great can’t wait to see what u put out next ^^

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ and you can’t think of anyone else.⋄ 𓍯

REQUESTED: you and ponyboy ‘dislike’ each other.

tags/warnings: story focused, long/on the longer side, gn!reader, reader gets harassed by a creep, ponyboy nearly gets into a fistfight, reader has a brother,

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ anon i think you’re magic because i was JUST thinking about writing academic rivals with ponyboy

—

“wow, pony. only 89%? i thought you were good at math.”

“i am.”

“you sure?”

ponyboy gritted his teeth as he huffed, pulling his paper out of your hands as he went back to his seat. right behind you.

if ponyboy didn’t know better, he’d thought that mr. lizweski was out for him. he glared daggers at the back of your head, his jaw still clenched.

99%. that’s such bullshit. you had to be bribing all the teachers to keep on getting first place, right? there’s no way in hell he’d ever come in second.

ponyboy wasn’t even second in track.

89% was all he thought about. in his remaining classes, he pressed down on the paper a little too hard when writing, he was oddly silent around his school friends, and he walked faster—with more of a purpose than anything.

it was clear to his friends that he was agitated, but they didn’t bother asking. each time the topic of you, the reason of his annoyance, was brought up ponyboy went on what seemed like an hour long rant.

“they’re bribing the teachers, right? they have to be! how else would they be getting these stupid marks when they’re busy parting their hair in class, or they’re too busy talking to their friends about, “what’s for lunch?” i am so goddamn tired of it!”

“….you seem to know an awful lot ‘bout y/n for someone who hates ‘em.”

“i do hate them! did you not just hear what i said?”

the rest of the day, ponyboy was in a bad mood. it felt like nothing could pull him out of it, not even when soda grabbed some change to treat him to go get snacks.

you stood out there gas station, head down to look at ground to avoid the random, rather ugly, dude standing above you.

“c’mon, pretty. gimme a smile, why don’t you?”

you stayed silent, turning your head away from him. he reeked of booze, the scent making your skin crawl.

ponyboy seen this, a slight anger bubbling inside him. it was different than what he felt all through today. this was real, genuine anger rather than annoyance.

ignoring soda calling for him and ignoring his subconscious yelling at him, ponyboy stomped toward you and the guy.

he got between the two of you, shoving the guy back slightly.

“they ain’t interested.”

“what’re you? their boyfriend?”

“just lay off.”

“or what?”

the guy pressed, taking a step closer to pony. neither of their glares wavered. pony’s knuckles were almost white with how hard he was clenching his hand.

you fully believe he wouldn’t socked him right then and there if soda hadn’t stepped in and talked the guy away, calming the drunkard a few feet away.

“you didn’t need to step in.”

“it’s not like you were gonna be anything.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do know that, y/n.”

ponyboy spoke with such a stern tone, you almost believed him against your own will. but, as the whole situation set in, you couldn’t help but feel thankful.

“whatever.”

“whatever?”

he asked, sounding almost offended. pony almost fought a guy for you and all he gets is a goddamn, ‘whatever’?

“..thank you.”

you mumbled quietly, crossing your arms as you leaned back onto the gas station wall, looking down at the gravel below.

“you’re welcome.”

the silence that hung between the two of you was palpable. you shifted your weight from side to side until ponyboy broke the awkwardness.

“so, you come ‘round here often?”

“yeah. my brother works here so i get things for cheap.”

“you got a brother?”

“mhm. soda’s age.”

you confirmed, silence falling between the two of you once more. ponyboy glanced inside the store, seeing your brother work the register.

well, he should be, at least. he was currently being held back from going outside to kick some sense into the creep from earlier.

“you two look alike.”

ponyboy muttered under his breath, a small part of him hoping you wouldn’t hear. his ears went hot with embarrassment when he heard you snicker.

“don’t insult me like that.”

he always knew you were quick witted, but hearing it happen when pony wasn’t the one being made fun of was rare. but, rather funny.

ponyboy understands why your friends are always giggling around you now, as he’s begun to catch himself let out a small chuckle at your words.

“it ain’t a bad thing.”

“it totally is. you just haven’t met ‘em.”

you, yourself, were laughing at your own words. the two of you quickly laughing amongst yourselves, the conversation making 0 sense to anyone but to you guys.

time seemed to tick by faster and faster the more ponyboy got invested into the conversation. you carried yourself with a confidence he couldn’t comprehend.

the way you spoke, the way you stood, the way you looked—it was all so confusing for pony.

soda walked out of the gas station, a plastic bag full of all kinds of snacks as he shouted at his younger brother.

“ponyboy, let’s go!”

“alright, soda!”

the wind was the only thing filling your guys’ ears as he kicked the gravel you two stood on. until you, as always, broke the ice.

“i’ll see you ‘round, 89%.”

“yea. see you at school, 82%.”

you two teased, narrowing your eyes at each other one last time for the night.

even on the car ride home with soda, who calmed down the drunkard and even got close with your brother, ponyboy was still confused.

despite being the best, number one, in english—he couldn’t find the words to describe how he felt about you.

so, he’ll just say he’a neutral on you. until you get a higher grade than him, of course.

[azullumi]

hi azul!!

i loved ur latest fic of fatui!scara and his fam, could u do like a fic one? like a whole imagine tyyy

“kisses to heal loneliness” ; scaramouche/wanderer

summary — you spend most of your days in pure loneliness due to your husband always being away for work and so when he comes home late at night…

pairings — scaramouche/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff; established relationship, domestic life, lots of goddamn kisses being mentioned and done, scaramouche is not mean here (he’s just a guy hopelessly inlove, he still commit crimes though)

words — 1243

notes — the child in the previous fic doesn’t exist yet hageuwhshs but the reader and scara are married here so yeah ^^ i hope you like this! i haven’t written requests for a while

there was the sound of the door opening and light footsteps treading in the darkness of your home echoing throughout the place, the only thing heard in the silence—it felt like time had completely stopped with how quiet and still the surroundings were.

the man who had just entered caught a glimpse of a person—you—sleeping on one of the couches peacefully, without any care of the world as if someone didn’t just invaded their own home—thankfully, however, the man wasn’t a stranger and was rather your husband who had just came home after working for seemingly the whole day and he was greeted by the sight of you sleeping in the living room instead of your own bedroom.

he couldn’t help but sigh upon thinking that you probably waited for him to come home even if he had specifically told you not to. did you push yourself again to stay awake so you could wait for him? how many times have he told you already not to stay up late just so you could greet him once he enters the door? he lost count anymore and might have given up at this point knowing how stubborn you can get. he rolls his eyes at the thought as he approaches your sleeping figure, quietly and carefully, afraid that he’ll wake you up.

he reached his arms out to your face and a warm and gentle feeling of something that seemed like a hand, softly caressing your skin, glossing and tracing your cheek was felt. the feeling itself was ticklish, eventually pulling you to consciousness and stirring you awake only to be greeted by a blurry sight of a person sitting in front of you, their figure blocking the light passing through the window and casting a shadow on you.

“scara…?” you call out in a whisper as you sit up, rubbing your eyes to adjust your sight to your surroundings. scaramouche’s gaze followed you as you rose and he always never seem to notice how his eyes always softens when he looks at you and how fondness laces itself in the depths of his orbs, or maybe he does, perhaps he realizes it from the gentleness of his touch and how he refrains himself from spilling words that could hurt you.

once you’ve known that it was indeed him, your lips couldn’t help but break out into a smile. “how long have you been here?”

“i arrived just now. what were you doing, sleeping on the couch as if we don’t have a bedroom?” he sits down besides you as he asks, as if he doesn’t know the answer already but scaramouche misses you and your voice.

“i was waiting for you,” you answered, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek and gently caress your thumb against his skin, “you were gone for the whole day, you know?”

“i thought you’ve already gotten used to me being gone—“

“i could never.” getting used to his absence was an idea that horrified you—especially with his line of work, always leaving to take on dangerous tasks that can put his life at risk—, you could never get yourself more acquainted with the vast nothingness of the nonexistence of his being. it scares you to think that one day, you’ll get accustomed to the coldness of his absence, that you’ll be more familiar with the silence more than his presence.

“i could never get used to being alone, much less you being gone.”

silence reigned between the two of you as he could only gaze at you (words will not come out of his mouth even if he’ll try to speak) affection being conveyed through his eyes, and there was only one thought running inside his head, tainting and ruling over his mind—to kiss you. whether the situation was asking him or not, he just couldn’t help it, you just look so adorable and lovely right now that he couldn’t help but think of crashing his lips against yours and molding it against each other like two missing puzzle pieces; to taste forgiveness and stars in your mouth.

and so he did.

with his hand held out to touch your face, to gently trace your features with the tip of his finger, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his palm rested against your cheek and you leaned against his touch, relaxing at the warmth of his presence. breaths slowly syncing and matching the pace of the other, he closed in the gap between you two, the distance between you being covered until it was no more as he captures your lips into a kiss—slow but it is one that is filled with affection, adoration, and all of his feelings that he cannot (for the life of archons) never tell you.

your fingers reach up to tangle itself in his hair, lacing itself in his indigo locks, as the kiss continues and deepens into a passionate one—everything slows and faded as if there was only the two of you—lips chasing each other, desperate to feel and taste one another, and you could swear that you heard a low moan from him when you bit his bottom lip.

but of course, things always come to an end and so, lips parting from each other, as you need to chase your breaths. he rests his forehead against you, your eyes remains on him with the same affectionate and loving gaze you had since earlier; sometimes, he thinks if you realize that the hand you hold is tainted with blood and sins.

you chuckle, “have i told you that i love you?”

“even if you don’t tell me, i’ll know anyways.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing his answer, it was a response that you expected from him. honestly, he’s only been gone for a day but it feels like it has been a long time since he disappeared. was it just the weather? the vast feeling of loneliness of eating alone nearly every single day? the silence that you have to listen to in every instance that he’s gone? archons, oftentimes the house can just be too big and cold when you’re just on your own.

the two of you remained there, still as time and silence, only relishing in this rare moment that you get to spend with him in vulnerable times.

“i love you.”

he says and although his voice sounds the same as usual, seemingly monotonous, but the hints of adoration and warmth trailing his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, his words managing to make its way to you and making your heart flutter. you planted a quick kiss on his lips, the feeling itself lingering in his mouth, the sweet aftertaste of you persisting in his lips—

“i love you too, kuni.”

BONUS

“should we have a child then so you would feel less lonely?”

once he had offered you that idea, you stilled. normally, you would have hit him for giving such an idea but it actually makes sense, it sounds tempting, even. in some sense, it could work and perhaps, it could lessen the loneliness that you feel whenever he’s not around.

“so what do you say?” he asks before then pressing his lips against your temple, kisses trailing down the sides of your face and tracing your jaw, interrupting your thought process and making you unable to think properly. “hm?”

“scara, wait—let me think about it.”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[lokischocolatefountain]

omg say no to me and salvation have me gagging… pretty please write more, i need hubby javi 🥵 ur amazing

I love that you liked hubby Javi! I like him a lot too. So, a little warning: I wrote this out sleep deprived and in a hurry so it’s going to be full of mistakes. 🙈 but I hope you like it. Wrote a little birthday themed thing for Javier Peña and his wife from this married Javi universe because it’s Pedrito’s birthday. Happy birthday to him and tbh fuck him (respectfully) for making me thirst over a fucking cop (on top of a merge mansion ad character I hate him).

Switch It Up

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3.8k words

Summary: Javier Peña and his wife switch roles for his birthday

Javier Peña was a grown man. He was a federal agent working for the DEA in Columbia, he saw several horrors a day and had a goddamn gun tucked in the back of his jeans. He was a grown man with a whole wife to show for his age and maturity.

He should not be so bummed about a lonely birthday.

It was her fault really. Before her, he didn’t really do birthdays. His friends usually got him presents— the best whiskey they could afford and a trip to the strip club and paid for prostitutes. It was more for their sake than his own (though he couldn’t deny that he had fun). When it got serious with his now wife, he opted to forego the stripclub and the prostitutes because he had decided that it was no longer fun to sabotage the one good thing in his life. He’d exchanged the bachelor life fun for a perfect day off with her.

Every year brought something different; she was innovative that way. The first year, she woke him up at midnight with her lips around his dick and brought him the cake she baked from scratch. She blew him and he blew the candles. He hadn’t cut a cake in years. The last time was when his Ma was still alive. They ate the cake together, saved some for Steve and Connie and he ate her to thank her for being the perfect girlfriend.

Last year, she took him for an all expense paid trip to Medellín for a whole week. It was the most time he’d gotten away from work and the only time he spent in Medellín without chasing after pieces of shit. She had arranged for some mountain climbing shit because of his love for physical exertion. He chose instead to love her all week long for physical exertion. She complained about having brought her climbing gear for no reason, but that didn’t last long. It was a little hard to complain when you had a dick in your mouth.

He’d been thoroughly spoiled as a husband.

This year, he was all alone with a whiskey bottle from Steve and Connie, sloppy cheek kisses from little Olivia and a whole cake from his wife. He’d kept a sizable slice for himself and placed the rest in the break room for everyone to enjoy. Cake wasn’t as delicious with nobody to share it with.

Javi didn’t mean to be ungrateful. He knew she would’ve stayed behind if she could have. But her parents really needed her to help with the sale of her childhood home and he wasn’t going to act like a kid and ask her to stay because it was his birthday. It would’ve been silly.

“Jav! They found the guys. Carillo needs you in this address right fucking now,” said Steve, barelling into their office with a piece of paper in hand.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, taking the paper with a scribbled address. He’d sat idly at work all day tackling their paperwork backlog while Steve was out there doing some real work.

The location was…strange. It was oddly quiet and there was no Carillo, no CNP guys. He had a choice to make— he could wait right there and keep an eye on the building and go in when the rest of the guys arrived. Or he could go in by himself. The second was extremely unwise. He would get told off by everyone from Noonan to his wife. If he didn’t get killed first.

Minutes passed by and he chose the latter option. He could handle Noonan. She didn’t approve of his actions, but she always understood. Gun tucked in the back of his jeans, he crept around the building. Once he’d found an open window, he slipped in, praying to the Gods he no longer believed in to keep him safe for another day.

Darkness suffocated his sight as he walked further into the building. The noise from outside the building grew dimmer and dimmer, eventually fading into the background. He crept like a cat, his shoes making nothing but the slightest whispers against the floor of the building. It had looked like a commercial building from the outside and if he remembered right, this place had once been a stripclub. Not one of the good ones for sure. It had to have shut down for a reason.

The place was littered with cardboard boxes, the contents of which he would explore had he not a mission in mind. Three of the most elusive hit men on Escobar’s payroll were hiding out somewhere in the building. The location was a bit too unusual for the men who had a record of gravitating towards luxury, but it wasn’t too out of place for them to have chosen a former strip club.

He spun in place when he heard a clatter behind him, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound and his heart beginning to beat faster. He took a few steps towards the source of the sound, wandering further into the building.

Click, click, click

High heels against wood? No, can’t be…

Nevertheless, he followed the sound.

Ahem

What the fuck…

Lights went up suddenly, illuminating the dark hall. The room had been swept clean with nothing but a chair in front of the stage. Under the bright lights above the stage glimmering a beautiful silver was a pole.

A voice cleared its throat again. When it finally spoke, it had a sultry tone to it.

“Agente Peña…”

No… It can’t be.

Click, click, click, click, click….

He saw the impractically high high heels first. Click, click, click against floors that were probably designed to amplify these sounds. The red of the shoes stopped to give way to white socks stretched tight around legs he would kill to throw over his shoulders. The socks mercifully, or mercilessly, stopped under bruised knees to expose full thighs he wanted to sink his nails into.

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, earning the laughter of the woman on the stage.

“Your friends told me it was your birthday, Agente…”

“It is,” he said, tucking his gun away. Hands on his waist, he took slow steps towards her. He needed to see her up close, confirm that his mind wasn’t conjuring up the most salacious thoughts after having had to go without a good fuck for an entire week.

“Your friends seem annoyed, Agente… They say they miss the fun single Javi who they could take to strip clubs. Now, I’ve never met this fun Javi before, but god if you look like this when you’re not fun,” she said, using her index finger to point at him, “you must look hot as fuck when you’re fun.”

“This your way of telling me I’m usually boring, sweetheart?” He asked, taking a seat on the chair she’d set out for him in front of the stage. He made sure to spread his legs and lean back comfortably in his seat before he folded his arms behind his head.

She smiled her sweet shy smile that he was sure was responsible for landing him in this exact moment in his life. She bit down on her brightly painted lips and wrapped his hand around the pole before swinging around. Her hair was out of the tight pony she put it up in for work. As she twirled around the pole, her hair swung free, caressing the wind before resting on her shoulder and cascading down the crimson shirt she’d stolen from his cupboard.

“You’re going to do as I say if you want a good night, Agente…”

“Ah… That’s how it is?” He taunted, letting condescension slip into his voice. “Alright. As you command, sweet thing.”

“Good boy,” she purred, the sound going straight to his cock. Calm the fuck down, Peña. She hasn’t even begun yet.

“Hands behind your back,” she ordered, looking down at him imposingly from where she stood.

“Sorry, what?” He asked, blinking rapidly and tilting his head to take a good look at her. Habituated to her shy smiles and pleas to be taken and fucked throughout their time together, it wasn’t an understatement to say that he was shaken by her sudden assumption of the commanding role.

Her fingers glided up and down the pole and for the first time he noticed that her nails were done up all pretty with the brightest red nail polish there was. Fuck, she’d gone all out. “You fuckin’ heard me, Peña,” she snapped and took a few steps forward before dropping to her ass, gently like a caress against the surface. He didn’t even know she could move like that. She hopped off the stage and his heart caught in his throat as she got closer to him and he caught a whiff of her perfume in the air. She stopped when she was over him, her legs spread out on either side of him. Oh how he’d missed the scent enveloping him as he buried himself in her and threw her into a world of ecstasy. The soft moan that escaped his lips surprised even him.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he breathed out, tracing a hand up her thigh only to be swatted away rudely. She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks and digging her nails into his skin just enough to give him a taste of how she’d be piercing the skin on his back as he fucked her later that night. He’d make her keep those shoes on for sure.

“Jesus!” She swore, the scorching heat of her gaze beginning to burn him. “No manners. Is this how you treat dancers, Agent? Fuckin American, touching everything, acting entitled to every goddamn thing, not following a single rule… It’s about time someone taught you a lesson.”

“Well darling, if there’s one thing I’m entitled to, it’s you,” he teased, hoping to rile her up and make her look all adorable and hot with rage. The next thing he knew was a stinging pain on his cheek.

“Once more.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she caressed the cheek she slapped. He swallowed, looked up at her and tried again, “Please, Ma’am. Once more.”

“Good boy,” she purred, her lips curling up in a smirk of satisfaction. Was this what she saw in him when she laid under him and took all that he had to give her for the night? Seeing her so confident in herself, feeling the sting of her authority on his cheek and sitting underneath her, he felt like he finally understood why liked this so much.

He had a feeling that as the night matured, he would only get a better understanding.

“Hands behind your back.”

Eyes still set on her, he moved his hands behind his back. Just like she’d ordered. She took a step back and he immediately missed her closeness, missed how she crowded over him and put him down in his place with just a stare. She slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the leather pouch with the handcuffs. Once she retrieved what she’d wanted, she tossed the pouch over her shoulder. She circled him, their eyes still joined in the heated gaze of expectations. He leaned back on his chair, praying to the lord that he didn’t look absurd doing that. The last thing he wanted to do was make her laugh.

The cold metal of his cuffs nipped at his wrists and he attempted to pull his wrists in opposite directions, enjoying his own failure at achieving the freedoms he only half-heartedly sought. She placed her hands on his shoulders from her place behind him and descended lazily down to his eye-level.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor. Disfruta del espectáculo,” she whispered before giving him a peck on the cheek. He attempted futilely to grab her so that he could kiss her properly, so that he could devour her lips and thank her for showing up for him.

There was music. It didn’t appear magically. She pressed a button on the cassette player he recognized from home before she walked up the stairs to the stage. Everything seemed torturously slow. Even the way she walked away from him looked to be designed as slow poison for him.

She descended gracefully to the floor and sat herself on her side, her back curved as she leaned back, her high-heel clad legs together with her left leg covering her right. She pushed her ass and tits out. She swept her leg out in a circle around herself, lifting it in the air as her right leg followed suit to make a semi circle. He caught a sparkle of something under his shirt that she wore as she exposed herself to him for a few seconds before she bent her knees and brought her legs back to where they started.

Javi drew in a sharp breath as she quickly got to her knees and twirled around again. This time, she let her right knee support her as she let the left kiss the smooth floors with the platforms of her shoes, back and forth, back and forth as his cock twitched in his pants. He would never forgive himself if he ended up jizzing in his pants seconds into her dance that she’d clearly put a lot of effort into.

Next thing he knew, she was upside down— fuckin’ hell— and spreading her legs, giving him a view of the little skirt and thongs she wore underneath as his shirt gave way to gravity and revealed her for him. She snapped her legs shut, as though punishing him for staring before she slid her legs over the floor and laid herself out flat, her delicious behind bouncing from her momentum. Spreading her knees apart, she rose from her position and let her hair flip around before she got up— how the fuck did she get up from that position??

Fuck!

He realized he’d said that out loud when she looked behind her shoulder and laughed before holding the pole, her fingers wrapping around it one by one. She stroked the goddamn thing up and down like she would his cock and fuck he’d be proud if he wasn’t so mad about being locked up with nothing to do but watch, to be a passive participant in her erotic torture of him.

She twirled and twirled a little more around the pole in many different ways. She moved effortlessly, dancing around the thing like it was no big deal. But he knew the strength it took to swing around a pole like that and look sexy as hell while at it. He knew how strong she was from the way she bent one leg around the pole and spun as she let the other draw a circle around her.

His thoughts, as scarce as they were with the sight in front of him, went off to a dreamland where he took advantage of all the flexibility she was displaying to bend her in every which way he wanted, to take her in all the ways he imagined. Sexier was the thought of her practicing this routine. Just for his sake. Just to do something special for him.

When she stepped away from the pole for a few seconds, Javi thought that was it. He was a fool. She stopped at the edge of the stage and looked down at him before she snapped the button of the shirt off, exposing just a bit of her cleavage. Eyes trained on his to derive sick joy from his torment, she snapped the buttons open one by one.

She was a sight.

Back to the pole, she held it like it was a part of her, letting the metal assist her as she closed her eyes and put herself on artistic display for him. He was one lucky man. He’d always known, but it bore repeating. He was lucky as fuck. She shed the shirt and he moaned as the action gave him more of her to see. He would never tire of seeing her body no matter how many times she took her clothes off for him be it to seduce him or simply take a shower.

Behind him, he struggled against his handcuffs, the metal digging into his skin and leaving marks for him to cover up the next morning.

He gasped as she climbed the thing like it was no big deal and wrapped herself around it. His heart jumped right out as her back arched backwards and he thought for a moment that she would fall. But she didn’t. Her legs were holding her in place around the pole. She brought herself back down, landing her shoes on the ground and pinning him with her gaze. She then took the strings wrapped around her waist and tugged, letting the barely-there skirt unfurl from around her.

His mouth was wide open in awe when she threw the sparkly black fabric at him. It covered his eyes for a fraction of a second as it hit him in the face before dropping down to his lap. He growled her name and cursed as his hips rose up from the chair in a desperate search for contact. Any contact. God, he’d even fuck his fist if she’d let him. But she ignored his plight, letting her starving husband continue starving as she moved torturously both on the pole and the floor in front of it.

When her bra came off—tossed in his direction again— he whimpered like a pathetic creature that was kicked by something much bigger and more powerful than he was. He was helpless and horny as fuck and enjoying it.

Perhaps because she’d decided to have mercy on him or just because her dance had ended, she hopped off the stage and stalked towards him like she was a hungry beast and he her latest game that she could wait to tear into.

“Please, Ma’am,” the honorific slipped out without him meaning to. “I need…please,” he begged, his voice shaky as he struggled to articulate what it was that he needed. He let out little mewls of desperation as he struggled to form words that weren’t ‘please or Ma’am’.

She bit down on her lip and tilted her head as she considered him. “Aww baby, it’s alright.”

“P-please,” he muttered, his worldly coming out airy.

She palmed him through his jeans and stroked him, her eyes twinkling as she regarded him in his struggle. His breaths grew fast with just the first touch. He pleaded repeatedly, calling her every sweet name in the dictionary- in two dictionaries of two languages, but she didn’t seem to want to free him. She was enjoying his helplessness too much.

She laughed and bent at the waist to look him eye-to-eye, “I got you so hard just dancing for you huh, Javier?”

He was no longer in control of any part of his body. It was all hers from the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. They all danced to her beat, worshiped at her altar, awaited her command with bated breath and followed her to his own destruction. His lips, now hers, begged “Y-yes Ma’am. I w-want— please! Want to touch you. Tan bonita... Quiero que tú… Por favor, patróna—”

“You want to touch me?” She asked, raising a cruel eyebrow at him. “Really? What makes you think you deserve that, baby? What have you done to deserve me?”

“I’ll do anything. Anyth— any— fuck!” He whimpered as the world disappeared around him, leaving only a hazy vision of her leaning in front of him, her hand around him. He felt his underwear get wet from his embarrassingly quick release as he muttered a curse in regret.

She tipped his head back and pressed her lips to his, their tongues dancing around each other and their lips taking in as much as they could of the other. The few days of separation had really gotten to him and he was pleased to know that he wasn’t alone with the way she pushed for more from their kiss.

“‘M so sorry, baby. That was…I lasted longer as a teenager, believe me,” he explained himself, wanting to hide himself away yet willing to show her all of him. All his embarrassment and sexual failures and his genuine feeling of regret over the way he ended the night.

She laughed softly, not in mockery but with her love. He could always feel her love.

“It’s okay, mi amor. Nothing to apologize for. You’ve made me cum with less, I swear,” she said, draping herself across his lap and cradling his face in her hand. She kissed him on the cheek and then the other and then his forehead. “Happy birthday, Javi.”

He smiled, no grinned, at her as he felt his heart fill up with gratitude for her. “I can’t believe you came back from stateside just for this.”

“About that…” she trailed, her index finger reaching out and playing with his mustache. “I never left.”

“What!?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

“You’ve been gone for three days!”

“I was at my friend’s.”

“Your parents called and said you reached home safely!” He exclaimed. How deep was this plot!? Who were all in on it? And what kind of a fool was he to not notice a thing. He should’ve asked her parents to give her the phone! He should’ve checked and caught them in the lie.

“I asked them—”

“You asked them to lie for you to give me a sex present for my birthday?”

“Nooo! Well, not like that! I didn’t call them and ask them to lie to you because I wanted to give you a fucking pole dance- strip show thing for your birthday. I just made something up. My god, Javi!” She huffed, shoving at his chest lightly.

“Wait! And Steve. FUCKIN STEVE! What did you tell HIM?”

“Don’t worry, your dignity is safe with me. Didn’t tell him I was gonna restrain you and make you call me Ma’am and oh, what else was it? Patróna?” She teased, smiling as she played with his hair.

“Si, Patróna,” he retorted right back, making her smile transform into a gasp and her eyes turn wide.

“Shut up,” she mumbled as she got off his lap and reached behind him. She uncuffed him and he was immediately upon her. She yelped as he pulled her into his lap, giggling as he pressed kisses all over her face.

“Javi, stooop!” She whined but leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gonna take you back home, baby. Need to do this right,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Oh? Do it right? You gonna hold me down and fuck me hard, Agente Peña?” She asked as he took his leather jacket off of himself. Finding her clothes would take too much time and he was not willing to spend his previous time with her after being deceived into separation.

“Pfft, no! You, my darling wife, are going to hold me down and take what you want,” he declared, excited to lean back and let her do the work for that night. And perhaps other nights when he needed her to take over and take guide him though it. It wasn’t something he thought he would like, but with her, every day was a surprise and he discovered new things about himself even after so many years alive.

Wrapped up in his jacket, she let him carry her to his jeep and he drove her home, a happy and grateful man.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

Read more of my Javier Peña fics here

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Dunno if you’ve already done this and you don’t have to, but how about m!greaser casually giving the gang + Shepard siblings the ultimate princess treatment??

I’m talking like MAJOR princess treatment. Holding doors without asking, popping off beer caps, lighting cigs with his own lighter, bridal-carrying them away from a rumble when they’re hurt, etc etc. m!greaser isn’t even teasing abt it too, he’s genuinely just a whole ass gentleman

Of course anon!!! I love this request 🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️

Ponyboy Curtis

-he’s surprised whenever you start treating him like damn royalty

-honored but surprised

-he loves the treatment he gets from you

-he always makes sure to say thank you

-he loves leaning on your shoulder when you carry him back from getting hurt

-he reads you stories that you fall asleep to as a way of saying thanks

-the other greasers tease him so hard about it tho

-he would do the same things for you that you do for him (:

Johnny Cade

-wow

-he’s like so not used to people treating him with baseline kindness or respect

-so you goin get extra more to do these things

-to light his cigarette, always make sure he has a place to stay for the night, bridal carry him at the slightest injury

-he’s pretty grateful

-also gets pretty flustered whenever you do it

-always says a quiet, “thank you” with a tiny smile

Sodapop Curtis

-he’s often overlooked as the middle Curtis sibling

-and he’s really only used to people doing things for him

-well, because he’s pretty. He has pretty privilege and he knows that

-and whenever you do these things for him

-just because he’s sodapop

-it’s what makes him give you genuine grins

-not his fake, charming demeanor that he so often carries

-but a genuine smile is what you bring to his face when you do these things

-and he’ll kiss your cheek 😊

Darry Curtis

-he does the same thing tbh

-most gentlemanly out of all of them

-you two are so mutually so sweet to each other

-but it backfires sometimes because you both want to do the same nice things for each other

-probably the most stable couple

-I really ship yall personally

-you guys would spend like 45 minutes fighting over who pays the bill at dates though 💀💀

Dallas Winston

-the least gentlemanly

-bro just does not think about much other than his own surroundings

-💀💀

-but he would definitely smirk whenever you do those things for him

-“Well ain’t you a doll, y/n?”

-that’s kinda the most thanks you’ll get 💀

-deep down he’s grateful but it takes him MONTHS of dating for him to even mutter thanks

-would not let you carry him though

-his egos too heavy anyway 😔

Two Bit Mathews

-he’d make jokes

-it’s two bit what do you expect

-but like jokes of affection

-really cheesy

-If you lit his cigarette “Y’know what else you set on fire? My heart.”

-if you carried him “Givin’ me a preview of the wedding hm? I see you…”

-and ur like two bit you literally broke your ankle

-but he’s actually really grateful whenever you do those things for him

-🫶

Steve Randle

-he would act nonchalant about it

-but he would totally care

-and brag to Sodapop about you and all you do for him

-and would try to kind of pay you back by spending his free time always upgrading or working on your car

-but he still mutters thank you to you

-but shows his full gratitude in other ways

Tim Shepard

-he’s absolutely not used to this

-he’s pretty smug whenever you do it though

-and definitely shows you off for it

Curly Shepard

-he would definitely be smug in a similar way to him

-like heh yeah my baby treats me like a goddamn king

-he would kiss you in front of anyone every time you do something for him

Angela Shepard

-she’s so cute

-she’s so grateful because most of the guys she’s dated have been dicks to her

-and when you come along and treat her like a princess she wants to cry tbh

-she gives you so many hugs n kisses

[stevie-petey]

when ur in the mood to write a new blurb could we perhaps see steve’s thought process when deciding what to get bug for christmas? and how nervous he was to give it to her? pretty please? <3 ily

i looove having an excuse to write silly little pathetic steve thoughts <3

enjoy !

"fuck!" blood drips from steves thumb and he quickly shoves it into his mouth to soothe it. this is the fifth time hes pricked his finger with the goddamn needle, and hes starting to wonder if any of this is a good idea in the first place.

steve wanted to get you something personal for christmas, your promise of waiting for him still ringing in his ears. it took him weeks to figure out how to even repay you for such a monumental promise.

all he could think to do was give you a piece of himself.

s.h., which is scrawled messily in steves handwriting, stares back at him as if to taunt him. the patch is small and he thought itd be simple enough to sew it into the cardigan he spent another few weeks agonizing over, but now hes beginning to doubt himself.

he doesnt know where exactly the line is between the two of you. theres something, he knows he feels something for you and that you feel something for him, but its fucking terrifying trying to decide where the line is. steve refuses to somehow lead you on how jonathan did to you, how nancy did to him.

steve wont hurt you. thats the one thing hes sure of.

now its christmas and he has a cardigan in his hands, one that was expensive and hard to find but worth every penny and second of his time, and hes giving you a piece of himself. that is, a piece of himself that he knows hes ready to give you.

the cardigan is something steve thought of almost immediately after he tore your old one. instinctively he knew, as he shred the poor piece of fabric to wrap around you wound, that he would get you a new one as soon as he could. it seemed obvious to him at the time.

sewing his initials into the cardigans sleeve, however, had been an idea he spent so long agonizing over. steve didnt want you to get the wrong idea that he owned you or something, or that he thought he had some weird claim to you after you promised to stay. steve wants to sew the initials in to show you that you already have him, more than anyone else has ever had him before.

hes given you pieces of himself no one else has ever seen before, not even nancy. if anything, steve wants to show you that you have a claim on him, you always have, if hes being honest.

now he really, really hopes that you like it.

that is, if steve can avoid spilling blood all over the damn sweater.

when dustin calls him the next day, christmas eve, demanding that he come over to save him from your baking chaos, steve felt like his heart was going to explode.

nervously he placed the cardigan in his car and drove to your house, his heart beating wildly the entire drive. he isnt sure how, but he somehow knows that the cardigan that sits innocently in his passenger seat will solidify something between the two of you; an extension of your promise to him.

then steve walks into your house and sees you covered in flour and your hair in a messy ponytail surrounded by wracks of baked goods, all of his worries fade away. youre incredibly endearing and steve is just happy to see you.

and when your eyes light up when he gives you the cardigan, steve knows hes made the right choice. when he sees the tears in your eyes after youve found the sewn in patch with his initials, steve feels it. the warmth hes come to associate only with you, a feeling hes slowly started to welcome rather than fear.

hes yours.

and its only a matter of time before hes ready to make you his.

[prettyboykatsuki]

Can you PLEASE elaborate on the Gallagher post. For a friend of course..

linky link

^ post in reference

idk if there's much to elaborate on tbh!!! i think like... in penacony in general sunday likes to keep u on a super tight leash (that u stay on willingly bc u have ur own set of problems and it's the only way this works) but that means u tend to have to keep yourself busy bc sunday is a busy man and doesn't have as much time as he wants to dedicate to.

he is very loyal and crazy about you though and he gets worried you'll try to leave him even tho u wont. but for better or worse u kind of end up getting lonely like a pet whose owner works all day. the only place sunday allows u to roam totally free is the hotel.

and you know who is always around? gallagher.

honestly, i think it's genuinely just a sense of pity at first. he does love pissing sunday off since he's just that kind of guy, but he also just thinks its kind of sad watching you roam around and be so isolated. you're friends with robin and stuff but you seem very lonely. so gallagher invites you to the bar and stay with him while he works. it's not going against sundays rules and prior to this, sunday had never told you to stay away from gallagher or anything.

but you know.... gallagher sort of starts to understand why sunday is so eager to keep you on a leash. you're pretty adorable. maybe it's just cause you're so lonely, but you always ask him so many questions at the bar and seem so genuinely interested in the work. you've got that ridiculous leash and collar on, anyone can see you're loyal as hell to sunday. like if gallagher is a stray, you're a loving house pet

maybe its the overlapping similarity of being bound to something, but gallagher grows very genuinely fond of you. you're happy to be there. happy to have company. happy to help. it's easy to please you. so he does get kind of affectionate with you though it's not for any real reason aside from fondness. he calls you kid and pats your head and lets you make drinks near closing.

he likes keeping you happy and doesn't read into it at all. except when sunday shows up to the bar one day, in the middle of his work day, to come find you. and he doesn't show it to you because sunday also absolutely adores you, but the glare he shows gallagher is soooooo goddamn funny to me him that he makes it a habit

he pushes the limits as far as petting you or rubbing your chin when sunday is within view just to see if he's willing to ruin his image out of jealousy or if his cherishing of you even slightly overrides his pride. it's very fun for him lol

[howlsofter]

Real Casual

ur lover john wick comes over and yall fuck idk yall I write this shit in like 30 minutes and I don't reread it

John is warm when he climbs into bed. It’s the middle of the night when the bed dips and he slides in beside me, he lays on his back, shifting to the middle so that he’s brushing up against me. 

I shift closer to him sleepily. It’s not often he’s here, he had his own apartment key but I see him a few times a month maybe.

I miss him. I crave him.

He thinks he’s bothering me. But I never mind, getting off work every night I hope he’s here waiting for me.

Waking up to him sipping coffee at 7am, sitting in my living room peering out the large window to the city. He doesn’t look hurt for once, he glances to me as I approach. I brush his hair back from his face and lower myself to sit on the arm of the chair. He’s wearing that goddamn suit he always has on that makes him look sooo sexy. He had showered earlier, looking fresh and lively.

It was so out of place I found myself studying him. The corners of his lips turn as he sets his coffee down, reaching to wrap strong arms around my waist. He pulls me into his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Is everything okay, John?” He kisses me. Not answering my question. He’s slow, sweet, pushing his hands under my sleep shirt to touch the skin of my waist. He’s warm everywhere, breaking the kiss to go to my neck. I’m only in my underwear, besides this shirt, his fingers gripping my hips now, sliding under the sides of my panties. I squirm in his hold, running my hand through his hair, arm still around him.

I catch his lips again, more rushed. Hungry, I haven’t tasted John wick in forever. I shift in his lap to straddle him and he moves his hand up. One grips my waist still, harder now that I’m rubbing against him. The other one runs up until he’s cupping my breast, massaging it carefully as I let out of a moan. My nipples are hard but John is harder, lifting up his hips for the friction. I continue to kiss him until he’s had enough, easily picking me up as he stood from the chair. 

I press kisses everywhere I can as he carries me to the bed. He sets me on the edge and leans over to take off my shirt, towering over me where he stood. I shift onto my knees to get some height, John pauses to watch me undo his shirt buttons. He takes over and I palm him through his slacks, feeling him twitch through the fabric. He doesn’t tear his gaze away, undoing his belt next and leaning over to kiss me again. He pushes me back but doesn’t break away until he slides his belt off.

The way John looks at me makes me shy, pulling off my underwear, watching me still as he drags my legs apart and sinks beneath them. His first lick is careful, getting a taste before he was fully eating me out. His tongue swirled around where it felt nice, one hand holding my hips steady while his other worked his pants off. By the time I started moaning he had freed himself of them and was stroking himself, still watching my wither as I tried to focus on staying still. 

My breathe staggering as I got closer, almost choking on each inhale. He begins to slow down before he’s pulling away, I groan, reaching out for him as he crawls up onto the bed over me. I’m ready now, and slick as he slides in. His cock is beautiful, cut, 7 inches, trimmed but not shaved. I curl my toes at the feeling of him filling me up.

He leans over as he begins to fuck me, his mouth slightly open as he moans, low, I have to hold my breathe to hear him over my own soft cries. He’s holding himself up with one hand while his other runs over me wherever he can. It feels so good I can only look up at him, I put my own hand out, touching his scarred chest. Healed bullet scars and new marks and bruises from combat, I press my palm into the purple mark on his shoulder as I grip him there. 

He shifts back to readjust and I spill out his name in a beg. He utters a curse before pulling out and flipping me over. Now when he fucks me he’s all over me, my back up against his chest. I keep my hips up for him, but every time we have sex I enter a state of complete helplessness. He is deeper this way too, every stroke is over stimulating in borderline pain. I squirm with no escape, I can barely feel just how hard he’s gripping my hips trying to keep my still.

I’m so close, my squirming become still as I get tense. “Wait, baby,” he breathes out, sitting up and running a hand down my back. He lays to my side, pulling me up against him. I lay pressed against him as he guides me leg back over his hip, slowly sinking back into me. I watch him watch me. The way he studies me, reaching around to touch me until I’m utterly useless. I beg him for more, he fucks me harder.

“Gonna cum for me?” He asks as I’m tipping over the edge, biting at my shoulder as I ride out the bliss. My legs twitch and I go rigid, John is smiling. His strokes slow and I’m stuttering against him, squeezing to feel him press against my gspot and gasping silently.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he grunts, pinning me against him as I finally begin to relax. I know what’s coming, he starts into me again. Rough, solid, my begs for more become cries for him to stop. It feels so good it’s agonizing, but his hold on me is firm and fighting is no use.

It never takes him long after me, his eyelashes flutter as he fights to keep his eyes open, watching the way our hips connect until he’s losing his pace. He pulls out and I whine as he cums over my thighs, letting out a shaky breathe.

I don’t move for a little, relaxing against him as he tamed my hair for me. I nuzzle up against him when I do finally move, he holds me carefully and presses a kiss to my temple. 

[fyodior]

is sending fem sigma to work with a remote controlled vibe in her pussy too much to ask

gasp…………. fem sigma looking so pretty as you slide the vibe into her pussy and positioning it over her clit that morning, pulling her panties up over it to make sure it stays in place :’)

she’s cursing herself for agreeing to this little game when she’s overseeing the casino and its staff/guests, you watching from a distance to gauge when the best opportunities to turn it on are. the way her entire body tensed and eyes popped as you turned it to the highest setting while she’s dealing cards makes you smirk, but also sends heat pooling to your core.

the little breathy sounds she makes, and the way she tumbles over her words trying to talk to guests while the vibrator is stimulating her clit just right and inching itself closer into her pussy are such a fucking turn on, stealthily getting just close enough to be able to hear her “i-is there anyth- a-ah fuck! anything else i can do for you?”. you’re abt to stick ur hand down your own pants goddamn

you had been edging her all day, never allowing her to get quite there, so when you finally let her cum she had to smack a hand over her mouth and excuse herself from the poker game she was overseeing, tripping over her own feet as tears pricking at her eyes as she tried to swallow down the long awaited, blinding orgasm washing over her

that night when you finally were both back in your shared room she threw herself on you, absolutely ravenous and horny as hell, and begging you to fuck her. of course you oblige and provide her with many orgasms she doesn’t have to hide :)

[lemmilemura]

it’s ur girl pine back with another request that’s secretly an unfinished draft from my notes app

okay so the reader is friends with maeve, and one day she invites them to a party (specifically one that jake hosts, this is important) (no it’s not i just like drama)

but the reader is kind of put off by the idea since they don’t really like parties. but yk it’s just this one time and maeve seems like she really wants them to go with her so they decide to get a little more information on it so they can be prepared (idk i honestly didnt think about why they ask questions but just go along with it 😭) so they ask maeve who’s gonna be there. she says smthn like “eh idk, jake, probably the rest of his group, me obviously, and simon” (reader hasn’t met simon yet, but they know who he is, they also don’t think AT is as bad as everyone makes it out to be) (very odd take but were gonna roll with it). and so when the reader eventually goes, them and simon eventually get like alone together and he starts conversation with them (prob says like “hey, are you y/n? i think maeve has mentioned you a few times.” or something)

IM SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LONG REQ BUT YEAH!! also you can decide what happens after simon and the reader are alone together, im thinking the reader like kind of realizes ‘oh shit this guys kind of fine’ in the like 30 minutes they talk to each other BUT YOU CAN CHANGE IT HOWEVER YOU WANT🫡 (also sorry this isn’t as good as my others it was kind of rushed)

At this point, you should just become my source of ideas xD Because truth be told I am running out and you always have great ones, Pine!!!!!🌲(I tried looking for a ferret emoji too, but I didn’t find one, so now you’re just 🌲 hope that’s okay)

All kept gender-neutral Based on the show

 "I’m really not sure, Maeve. I mean, I brely know anyone at Bayview, let alone Jake." Maeve was trying to convince me to go with her to a party hosted by a guy at her school. We didn’t go to the same school and I didn’t know anyone, besides Maeve and that one Simon guy, but only because he has an app or something that people are making way bigger a deal than it should be. "Oh c’mon! For all I know, you barely leave the house! I mean, if nobody knows you, that’s even better! No way for you to embarrass yourself. Pleeeease just come with I beg you."

In the end, it took a few more minutes, but she did manage to convince me. The days leading up to the party, she kept talking about it, telling me about all of the people I'd probably see. She kept bringing up Janae, I was convinced she had a thing for her, and Simon. The day of the party, though, I was considering just telling her I was sick, I wasn't really feeling like it'd go well. But I still decided to go, I said 'fuck it' and went.

Though, after only a few minutes, I had already lost Maeve. Great. I was alone at a party at someones house who I did not know, with people I didn't know. The kitchen always seemed like a good palce to go, especially when most people were outside by the pool. Also in the kitchen you can get drinks, just water to be honest, but sometimes that's really all you need. I find an unused cup and just get some water from the tap.

Suddenly, this guy walked in, and my god he was hot. Like goddamn what god or demon did his parents make a deal with to make him that attractive? I’m not even kidding, he was just that good looking. I damn near choked on my water, I had to turn around and face away from him out of embarrassment. He didn’t say anything, maybe he didn’t even notice me. He walk around like he owned the place, he knew where everything was, every cup, drink. Maybe he’s Jake’s brother or something. Or maybe that is Jake? I thought.

He suddenly seemed to notice me. "You’re new." He simply stated. I nodded, trying to stay calm. "Maeve invited me." I replied. He raised an eyebrow, making him only more attractive for some reason. "That mean you’re (Y/N)?" He asked. Holy shit hot guy knows my name. Stay cool, stay calm, you’ve got this. I nodded. "Funnily enough, I dragged her here. ‘m Simon."

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? THAT’S SIMON? MAEVE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME HE WAS HOT?

I tried my best to stay calm and not let my shock come through. I took another sip of my drink, hoping it would help. "You don't go to Bayview, do you?" He asked. Again I just shook my head. He looked me up and down, making me even more flustered, somehow. "Shame." He said, and just... walked off. Just liek that. This man flustered me to my core and walked off like it was nothing.

Honestly I don't remember much of the rest of the party, I was really just trying to calm down, also half debating if I should switch schools. Genuinely. Luckily, Maeve soon (maybe, I do not know how long it was) came back and we decided to leave.

"So, how was it?" Maeve asked. I grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her. "WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT SIMON’S HOT? THAT IS A VERY IMPORTANT THING TO KNOW!" Maeve only laughed at my reaction. "Okay, while I do agree, he is good looking, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes." I must admit my face did betray me in that moment. I found that out because Maeve gave me a look, then started laughing again.

[toournextadventure]

okokok its gym birb anon im taking that name bc i need to find an emoji

what if. birb played an instrument well. like real real real well. like almost proffesional. like u know that whole fire pit thingy scene what if birb only played the fiddle so theyd have a duet partner. and they actually slay at like classical guitar or steel stringed ur choice bro. personally i think some of the gfs would be all over this.

imagine lemme set the scene. birb just casually picking up a guitar and playing real well (tuning it cause as a multiple instrument playing musician idc u tune ur instruments pleeeaaaes even if its the death of you)

vada would def be like loook at how faast those fingers mooove. def thinking unholy thoughts (trying to get birb to play unholy on electric)

tara would be horny thoughts horny thoughts horny thoughts with vada obviously. like no doubt but also so so so so eager to learn to play literally draping themselvers onto birbs guitar filled lap like teeaaaach me

wenesday would def be like oh my god competent duet partner this entire time??? getcho ass oveer here lurch brought my cello and then grabbing birb by the collar when they try to go fight lurch guitar and all with them. She'd definatley choose some casual piece and deal with birb playing it okayish before sighing and playing the only classical piece birb plays eagerly. Canon in D

lorraine i feel like would sing along softly prolly making up her own words or melody while sitting near birb or working around em like she is also feeling horny thoughts but is always down to listen to music. maybe distracts birb a lil by sitting wrapped up arms around them and pressed to their back singing into their ear but shhh we'll never know

phoebe i thikn is with vada and tara like goddamn the skill but look at how fast them fingers move...

and harley katie and ellie want birb to play tiktok songs.

can i be :) anon cause finding an emoji is a lotta work

Okay okay okay, listen, if this is in our Happy Timeline where no one dies/stays dead and trauma is Healed, here's how I think this whole thing would go down

Nicky is still a-fiddlin away because... of course, he's a natural. And Birb, imo, can't play a six string to save their life BUT they can play a 12 string like it's nobody's business. It's out of tune but still surprisingly sounds good (I say as someone who also plays multiple instruments, but who grew up with a farm family that just... doesn't take the time to tune, don't come for us) so those two are just jammin out like it's what they were born to do

And they ONLY do it when they're all out at The Family's place when they have their bonfires (which, if everyone is over, is a nightly affair). And every single time the gfs are just "and you can't play it in our own home???" And Birb's instant response is "it doesn't sound as good when it's not around a fire :/" with the most sincere genuity they can possibly invoke

Meanwhile, all the gfs just sit there trying not to appear that interested (even though everyone knows otherwise) because "well if you won't play at home, I just won't listen 🙄" even though they're constantly watching Birb like they are only this 👌 close to pulling them away for... reasons

And then yeah, no, Harley, Katie, and Ellie are just like "... but can you two play Savage by Megan Thee Stallion?"

And yes bestie, your emoji has been set, welcome to the Emoji Knights of the Round Table 🧑‍⚖️

[devils-dares]

THIS IS NOT A HATE ANON DEVON I LOVE YOU

Anon get a life challenge. Literally people on the internet with takes like that are irrelevant.

Some of us have lives and things to do outside of working on fanfics WE put out for yall. If you fucking wanting something done asap DO IT YOURSELVES!!! telling someone to kts is literally so fucking childish, just cuz ur not getting what you want immediately.

Writing takes so much time and energy!!! @ anon YOU DONT FUCKING KNOW THIS PERSON

You don't know what the fuck they are doing outside of writing so stay in your fucking lane bro.

Devon, I hope you have a good rest of your day/night depite those absolute lugnut anons you are getting. In the end of the day, they clearly have nothing better to do, and are just garbage people who need to get over themselves. Keep going at your own pace and I hope you feel better.

thank you truly for typing this out. i don't think non-creators realize how much time, effort, and energy it takes to make something. being so blantantly for real under the cut/tw for mental and physical health, hospitals

thank you for supporting me, for being here, for reading my material, reblogging my works and leaving comments. i'll try my damndest to be here for all of you.

this past week has drained me more than anything ever has. i went from going to the college campus nurse to thinking i could die while getting fucking rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. i have been holding it fucking together at home by the seams, the literal seams. coming out of the hospital on wednesday, i was diagnosed with a rare form of complex migraine, added onto an already not widely known form of chronic dizziness, as well as possible endometriosis. i am at my fucking wit's end. i am in chronic pain. i can't fucking focus anymore. i'm crying every chance i get when i'm alone because i am overwhelmed with every single thing possible. i've been playing this game since i was 14 and i'm 19 now, and there's not going to be any improvement, and i have to come to terms with that.

for those who aren't medically dependent on someone, this might not make sense, but i need to get it off of my chest: i feel like a burden because my family is too fucking nice. they've been there every single goddamn step of the way and misstep i have hurts them too. i felt so bad laying alone in that hospital bed that when my parents burst through the doors i sobbed and apologized over and over again because i immediately knew i ruined everyone's days and weeks.

for me to come to my happy place where not really anyone knows that about me, just to be told to k word myself when i'm already fucking on the edge of it anyway is just so fucking draining. i have near nothing left to give. i'm trying my best.

[spillmygutzzz]

Sitting here conflicted and trying to keep it together. If it were any other situation, I'd go to him and I'd just gut myself right there but I can't do that this time.

Maybe I've assumed something and made an idiot of myself but that doesn't change that I luv him- no it's not the same regard but it still means something, yeah? Idk

It kills me to see him like this knowing I can't just fix it. He thinks he's just this unlovable monster and I just wish for even a moment he could see thru my eyes. I wish he could see how kind and compassionate he is. He'll do anything for the ppl he luvs even if it tears him apart- even if it wears him down to nothing. Even when he barely knew me, he has always been there for me and I want to always be there for him.

All those things M has done just ring in my ears but I don't want to harp on it to everyone else. He's just done sm and after I defended him and said he was one of the few not being shit. He digs and pried at me for information on his partner that I wouldn't tell him. He claims he doesn't want to be seen as only wanting to talk to one person but how could anyone think anything but that when all he seems interested in talking abt is him or planning calls. That's what they all do, they only talk abt calls regarding him. It's frustrating. To cause a scene like that in front of someone u claimed to see as a friend but then make him feel like fking shit!? R u fking kidding me!?? To have the balls to bitch at me for how long it's been since u've talked to him as if I have control over that? As if I don't fking miss him too? As if it doesn't brutally rip out every vital organ I possess knowing its been weeks since I've heard from him and he's hurting and I can't fking fix it??? Saying u want me to talk to him becuz ur worried he's purposely staying away becuz he's lost feelings? God if I had a goddamn dollar for every time I've heard that yet u won't fking talk to him abt it. It's not fking fair to him. There's a fking difference between acknowledging it's unfair to think that and acknowledging it's unfair and then actually changing. Not just continously doing the same shit.

He's a goddamn person. He's compassionate and sweet and he'll do anything to help. He has a big heart that carries so much. He'd bleed himself dry if it'd help someone. I don't know how anyone could not care for him or luv him. He'll always have a place inside my heart. Even if there ever comes a time where he doesn't want me in his life, I will always hold a spot for him in my heart and I will always welcome him with open arms. I promised him I'd always be there for him and I meant it. For him to feel as if he needs to "prove" he's worth luv? He doesn't need to prove anything. He deserves luv.

U pry and pry and pry for anything abt him and u don't give him any personal space. U think I know what I know becuz I forced it out of him??? That's not how that works. He's fking worn down and tired and yet u can't find it in urself to be understanding over that. He's completely changed since dating u but u wouldn't know that. But I do. I know these things. I fking pay attention and I'm fking angry.

I put emphasis on him being my best friend. I notice when somethings wrong. He feels so deeply and he thinks its wrong but it isn't. He told me he feels more than he let's on, told me that a long time ago before we got closer and I always kept that in the back of my head becuz I knew that was a raw truth.

He told u he wanted to do something on his own and u still pressed and pushed to do it with him and then told me abt it after I had also told u he wanted to watch it alone. Telling me things he's told u as if I don't know but r u telling me just to tell me or to try and prove something? U get frustrated that he tells me things he won't tell u but have u ever thought for a second that instead of getting worked up over that, u should maybe give him time and space?

U sent me this long confession of feelings and nvr mentioned anything to him once. Were u going to tell him at all? U told Evan. Why not him? U claim he nvr tells u when he's ready to call when I knew for a fact that he tells u every little thing he does before calling to make sure that's okay and ur aware of everything. If it's such a problem then maybe u should fking say something. Oh wait. U don't. Instead u go to me abt it. For Christ's sake I couldn't tell u that I was getting to call him becuz I knew ud be all over that. U remind me how long its been since u called him but do u know how long it had been for me? I prioritized ur calls with him becuz that's all I hear abt from anyone over there regarding him and I wanted to make everyone happy.

I just dont know what to do anymore. I haven't even told him abt the feeling I got yet and I'm anxious to but I don't know when I'll get that opportunity but I'm scared to hurt him more than anything but I also don't want to keep it from him cuz it's starting to look like I was right.

But if he wants to see things thru, I won't stop him. I'm scared that call was the last one on one for a long time but it won't stop me from being there when he needs me. I care for him more than he'll ever know and I'm willing to wait for whenever I can talk to him again. I want him to be happy even if it means I'll be at a distance from him. It hurts thinking abt things going back to only hearing from him when he's talking to Michael with texts that have hours between them but at least I'll get to hear from him.

I'm so tired and I want to stop crying.