#the fluff phase is over

[c-hrona]

A Surprise Gift!

After the events of the last comic, Vash and Nick receive a little gift from their best friends.

ID in Alt!

[fishermanshook]

ASK: hi! i couldn't find if requests are open, sorry if they're closed rn. can i request some composer, orpheus and painter x fem/gn reader fluff?

DATE NITE!

( composer , novelist & painter ) + gn!reader

˙✧˖°🍓 ༘ ⋆｡˚ modern/celeb. au ?? , chars. are considered pretty big in the fine arts department + the world pretty much , silly little dates w/ them , ooc a bit , lower case intended , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

mundane dates for people with too much on their plate.

꒰wc꒱ 1 k

THE COMPOSER ; FREDRICK KRIEGBURG

♫ | when it comes to going on dates with the musician, he much rather prefers something more secluded. something personal between the two of you. that’s why he [politely] turns down any offers on going out to things that are known for having big crowds, like festivals or loud concerts.

♫ | it’s the little things that count to fredrick, truly. the homemade dinner has been platted and served along with dimly lit candles and rose petals scattered across the floor. it’s so romantic and fredrick can’t help but feel so loved by you.

♫ | you’ve got music playing in the background as well. and, once you finish your meal, the two of you sway and dance to the song. the composer kisses your lips and for once, it feels like it’s just you and him, and he wishes he could do this with you every night.

the composer looks at you with playful contempt. “is this my song you're playing?”

you throw your head back in laughter. “of course it is silly, I’d be mad if I didn’t play at least one of your songs tonight.”

♫ | eventually, your dancing leads you to freddrick’s piano in the living room. you sit next to him as he plays you his newest creation. it’s a masterpiece, you tell him, followed by the question of what he’ll name it. fredrick chuckles to himself before revealing to you that it’ll be named after you.

“[name]’s symphony, doesn’t that sound delightful?”

THE NOVELIST ; “ORPHEUS” DEROSS

♪ | orpheus, similar to fredrick, likes to keep things personal. not the biggest fan of crowds, but he’s been in the middle of a few big ones due to book signing. he’s not too picky about what dates you guys go on and enjoys most if not all of the outings you plan together.

♪ | so what’s better than a coffee date followed by book shopping? well, lots of things in reality. orpheus definitely participated in extravagant and expensive activities thanks to his earned riches. but a coffee date makes everything feel normal again, a simpler time when he wasn’t flooded with the need to release the next great book. it’s a great way to spend time with you, he thinks.

♪ | the date is filled with hushed whispers and silent giggles as the two of you browse the library, steaming hot coffees in hand. or maybe it’s hot chocolate in your hand. you're too distracted with reading the back of another book to let him have a better look at your drink.

↳ going to a bookstore as a date was more of a “kill two birds with one stone” kind of deal. you knew that it would be a nice way to spend time together without doing anything too grand, and orpheus gets to look for new inspiration. plus, you get to see if any best sellers catch your eye.

“ooooo I like the sound of this book! I think I’m gonna snag it for myself.”

“lemme see, I can probably get it for you.” [he’s going to steal in and read it himself when you’re not looking]

♪ | you expect him to be engulfed in the books around him, flipping through the pages and seeing what other authors have put on display. instead, he looks at you with a type of fondness only you are graced with. he brings a thumb to your lip to wipe off the excess hot chocolate around your mouth. you smile and lean into his warm embrace.

“sorry, I'm too busy looking at you to notice any of the other books. let’s pick out some more together, ‘k?”

THE PAINTER ; EDGAR VALDEN

♩ | edgar valden is widely known for his skills when it comes to painting. he’s perfected everything, he’s mastered every medium, and his inspiration is seemingly endless. that’s what everyone thinks.

↳ edgar lets you in on probably one of his darkest secrets one night, lying in bed: he hasn’t mastered every single medium there is. his inspiration runs out quicker than most would think. and yes, he hasn’t truly perfected everything when it comes to the arts [mostly saying painting]. the reality of it all rains down on him with the pressure to fulfill such beliefs, but you let him know that it’s okay not to. no one should be expected to accomplish such a feat.

♩ | that’s why little dates like these are the ones he probably cherishes the most, despite how embarrassed and anxious he is walking into the art studio.

“they were 5 dollars a person! I thought it could be nice because we could both work on our art skills.”

“[NAME] WHAT IF SOMEONE NOTICES ME?!?!?”

♩ | that’s why he’s so nervous. the edgar valden, in a beginner's art class, learning how to make pottery? don’t the people expect more of him? you tell him no and that, they shouldn’t because he’s human.

↳ legit started hiding his face at the start of the session ‘cause he was so afraid someone would comment about him being here. you had to pry his hands away from his face.

♩ | it isn’t until maybe halfway through the class he starts to get the hang of things, and you're not far behind either. his beautiful, hand-crafted bowl looks stunning, you tell him. Well, not really. it looks more like a pinch pot, but you think it’s best to keep that to yourself.

↳ neither of you is good at pottery, and it just makes learning it that much more fun for the both of you. [edgar refuses to admit smh] he’s secretly dedicated to making a vase to replace the broken one in your apartment. he’ll paint it your favorite color and doodle your favorite flowers all across it. although, he can’t say that this is looking that much like a vase…

♩ | the two of you are complete messes at the end of it. colorful paint splattered across your face along with dried clay stuck and chipped off underneath your fingernails. you walk out having done your first of many pottery classes that day.

“thank you for planning this out. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, really.” edgar states before leaving a fleeting kiss on your cheek.

note: his my fishies…🤭🤭🤭 hope you all are having an amazing day / night. enjoy this short little request i got <3

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[mars-ipan]

some postgame doodles for pride month

[luck-of-the-drawings]

REFLEX IN THE SKY, WARNS YOU YOURE GONNA DIE, STORM COMING, YOU BETTER HIDE. FROM THE ATOMIC TIDE

(messin around with (ONLY) pens and colored pencils, error correction done with paper n glue)

[thimbell]

Oooh, can you imagine the horror of being thrown back in time? You memories in tact, but your body reverted back to its state then. The horror of it all, being in a form, place, time that is no longer your own. Those are not your loved ones, though you wish they were. This is not your home and hasn’t been for a long, long time. The body carries none of the weight nor scars that made you. You wished for change, but this is loss.

my insane rant for a messed up tragedy horror something au under cut

okay but like hear me out, because it’s dumb o’clock in the am rn where i’m at, and thus requires tragedy au thinking.

Au in which f!leo get’s thrown into the past, but like into his younger body. That’d be sooooo messed up.

Imagine the dysphoria. being put into a younger body he was supposed to have outgrown long ago. or suddenly finding his prosthetic/homage to his dead brother gone. like that’s not HIS arm.

and like, the perma loss of HIS brothers. our experiences are what make us right? these kid versions of his brothers only have the first half or so of their shared experiences and are definitely not HIS brothers. they’re missing decades of memories.

The kraang aren’t a threat here, but nothing is his: body, family, or time.

edit: SHOUTOUT TO WRAENATA WHO MADE AN EXCELLENT POINT AND REMINDED ME OF THIS DOPE FIC BY TEAINTHESNOW HERE’S A LINK TO THAT WONDERFUL FIC THAT HAS A LOT OF THE SAME PREMISE BUT IS PROBABLY NOT A TRAGEDY AU LIKE I WAS THINKING HERE

[yuckyfucky]

⋆｡ﾟ(??????? // ?????????) 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.𝖿𝗍.𝐄𝐋𝐋𝚰𝐄 𝐖𝚰𝐋𝐋𝚰𝐀𝐌𝐒 remix

author’s scribbles: my s!lly as$ was in an incredibly s!lly mood. i wanna laughᵎᵎ i wanna have fun, a bch can hardly sit stillᵎᵎ

summary: ♡ ellie goes out on a date with friend ♡

uhhh w⚠︎rnings(??)..mm 2 b aware of..(???): honestly self insert, alllll oc’s r blk(coded) ☆, a lvl of unserious-ness, these bchs r str8 (no) up CLOWNS, “cuz u gay n’ stuff,” fwb 2 lovers, fluff + suggestive, not proofread @ all (SAWRY), loosely based on a story i have in mind, i have a visionᵎᵎ

l: v (very), wld (would), 2 (to), cld (could), bk (back), @ (at), nvr (never), 4 (for) // my slang is jus foolishness buh i can’t stop! update: im reading this thinking..damn this might give y’all a HEADACHE geezus, lemme make it make sense a bit fr 😭💀

╔═══　　

•..0..*AND

NOW..$..#..%ᵎᵎ

═══╝

✎ “come.on. there’s gotta be fucking something..SOMETHING!” the last time ellie went shopping was almost half a yr ago. she wore her shit til the seams unraveled

✎ cue 2 a night when she tried 2 send an “accidentally on purpose” thirst trap but the second she pulled @ her shirt 2 flash a lil sumthin’, it came undone by the sides she still sent a pic

✎ wearing SCRAPS 4 clothing @ this point. “fffuuuuUUUUCCC—!” just a mess!

✎ n’ her excuse reasoning 4 STILL not going 2 damn store despite actually looking very forward 2 her night-out “it was in the spur of the moment!” (sheee literally had three whole days 2 go buh was all heart eyes n’ wobbly knees simply bcuz she had finally asked. oh, n’ bcuz her date said “yes,” obvi ♡)

✎ her hands shuffled robotically in front of her face before settling them on the back of her neck. terrible, TERRIBLE tics; she knew better than 2 bite @ her fingers

✎ especially after oc had made a comment that if she didn’t stop she’d end up with “frog fingers.” completely brushing over the countless vids of ppl they’ve seen wound up in the hospital bcuz of that that n’ a few other ridiculous warnings were thrown @ ellie if she didn’t want 2 end up accidentally leaving herself disfigured in the later future

✎ lightly being scared—or as she would call it, “bullied” out of her bad nervous habits

< from: my silly rabbit💋💋 > (tots didn’t personally put that in as their contact 030)

nobody:

u:

✎ but it was working. her lips also recovering from the excessive biting and lack of lip balm

LOL&;$:8:8.&IMFKNGONE ↴

✎ disgustingly dragging/typing out their laughter 4 emphasis on how funny they thought sumthin’ was, ranging from pure gibberish or (a personal fave) “AAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA” 4 obnoxiousness

✎ oc was as silly as they come: nvr failing 2 make an interrobang form above ellie’s head or getting a smile out of her

1) from a fucksesh that lasted nearly 3hrs, the both of them clocked out almost immediately right after. tho ellie’s slumber was cut short when she heard giggling in the middle of night. going thru emotions of confusion 2 anxiousness then annoyance n’ fearfulness. it was that she was being robbed or her place was haunted, n’ who tf had the time 4 either?? she leaned over, ready 2 shake oc awake n’ grab a bat she kept neatly stashed from underneath her bed buh paused when she saw them comfortably asleep with a fkn smile on their face. another giggle escaping their lips before they unconsciously stuffed their hand into their underwear

2) ellie could practically see the gears turning in their head from her peripheral. cocking their head 2 the side while they noisily slurped down a sweet tea they had gotten earlier from a lil donut shop right off of campus. a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. “..ellie,” they started ooh so casually “you know how to dance?” she squinted her eyes before rolling them. failing 2 suppress a smile which only grew bigger when oc surpassed hers with a cheshire-like grin “…no.” “So if I throw ass, how you gonna catch it?”

✎ dina shared that ellie was only working herself up. especially considering that they’d b out n’ around in such (inconsistent) humid + hot weather. with a pat on her shoulder n’ a “you’ll figure it out” 4 extra support, along with a promise to take her shopping next week. n’ ellie did. same way she let out a sigh of relief when she figured out which carnival 2 go 2 instead. this one being 30mins away. ellie didn’t want them to cross any paths with old habits. it was lowkey much 4 her that she still went 2 the same university

✎ oki, now ellie wasn’t exaaactly a player persay. tho she did happen 2 get around..often.. (unintentionally) leaving behind a lil more than a handful of broken hearts affiliated with either jesse or dina having 2 suffer n’ fend off awkward run-ins from “have you seen Ellie”’s. playing confused like they don’t practically live with her not like that’s their business anyway. blowing em’ off wit a neck scratch n’ a tired “she’s in jackson for the next two weeks.” followed up by a ray of annoyed texts sent her way: bro, call them already! x next time im giving them the keys to ur room buh-buh ntm on her! she’s a changed person now!

✎ tho she did met oc @ a time despite claiming she was done with hookups, happily welcomed them into her life with open arms, and open legs and an open mouth. but it was a treat 4 herself! had absolutely no expectations other than a lil summer fling @ best buh overtime she found herself wanting them 2 stay a lil longer (tho it took her awhile 2 admit it)

✎ she crossed her fingers n’ hoped, damn near got on her knees n’ PRAYED that they didn’t know about her promiscuities. like she didn’t spend her first 2yrs n’ sum change walking round campus with “community strap” practically stamped on her forehead—like that wasn’t exactly how n’ y they even met! (womp womp)

✎ ◁◁: oc knew of ellie best from a conversation they shamelessly eavesdropped on during composition. a girl n’ assumingely a fren, were trying 2 ever so quietly (buh failing) 2 talk about her. her n’ another one apparently. called them a “cock carousel,” tho admittedly confessing she’d like 2 get on that ride all dreamily. it made them curious

✎ damn her hypnotic green orbs n’ those scruffy ass shoes!

✎ dina ain’t give a shit fr lol. FINALLY an opportunity 2 give ellie a lil makeover after all those years she turned her down when they were younger, cuz apparently she was jus too cool 4 that shi n’ dina was willing 2 take whatever she cld get. ellie knew it was coming too

✎ “you know—“ “no.” “..?..you don’t even—“ “no.” “why are saying ‘no’, you don’t even—“ “no.” “you didn’t even—” “no!” “fine, be late to your date!”

✎ either ellie wasted more time tryna puzzle piece whatever was left of her wardrobe n’ b late or her clothes would come apart before she even left the damn house, making her even more late

✎ she knew she gave herself the short end of the stick. ellie didn’t even have 2 utter a “yes.” dina was already down the hall happily humming 2 herself, that deep exasperated sigh of defeat from ellie was more than enough. she could hear the clatter of doors opening. it’ll just have 2 do

╔═══　　

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ OC’S POV

“Okay, look up again real quick!” “Oou put this on ‘nstead!” “Lemme add another strip!” Excited squeals circled the living room. I stood tall and balanced on the foot stool. Theatrically posing like a Zara Model (a.k.a unserious). I basked in my friends buzzing energy like a damn mannequin while they beautified me for my little adventure—oh! Sorry, DATE, of the night. Lightly..floating away.. back.. — .t

.

。

o

o

　　 o

　　　　　 o

　 o

　 。

ₒₐa

a late convo in the middle of July.

< from: ew!..♡ >

then the beeeest fucking part

ending the night with elephant ears

or funnel-cake

u know, something like that

“Something like that..” I read her text aloud to myself. Geeked up in bed like she was a high-school crush: a finger pinched between my teeth and feet kicked up into the air. This was serious!

I motioned my hand in slow circles as I watched the three dot speech bubble appear then disappear for the next minute.

Mhmm..Oki!..Oki!

Then two.

..Oki!..Oki!…….Oki? My smile faltered and I stopped my movements.

It’s been five minutes.

I lulled my head to side and scoffed. My dazed smile turned agape.

< to: ew!..♡ >

…..i know this ain’t ur way of asking me out

…

ellie😭

i was working my up to it!

talking bout something like that

b a fkn lady!

damn! i won’t ask then!

ooooomfg, i was jus playing

it was funny.LAUGH!!!

elliiiieeeugh

We started spamming each other. Her pretending to be chicken shit while I demanded for an official proposal. I loved, fuckin’ DESERVED to be courted dammit!

fine! sorry!

..[redacted]

uuuugh

???

do u NOT want 2 take me out or sumthin?!?

bro, STOP

just let me do my thing!

“Just let me do my thing!” I mocked.

“Hmph!,” I let out a squeak as I hugged squeezed the shit out of my pillow. Growing silent while I waited. My heart racing.

can u go out with me?

What the..? I deadpanned and kissed my teeth.

i mean…..ig i CAN

u know, since that’s wha ur asking me

Giggling myself, I imagined her combing a hand through her hair while yelling out “oooooooh my gooooooo—!” I don’t care! This isn’t middle school!

toooots not w8g 2 b swept up off of my feet by prince charming or sumthin..

I dramatically pouted into the phone. Just sitting here! Waiting and waiting aaaanD WAIT—

O’ [redacted], O’ [redacted], wouldst thee liketh to wend out on a date with me to the

fuck it

carnival this saturday at 7??

Oh how dramatic!

WOAH?!

not even a “let down your hair” remix?? u went deep into the wenches wit it. u sure u nvr been 2 a renaissance fair b4🤨 bet they had ur freaky ass greet ppl by the s🚫x dungeons

u got that shi str8 from google anyway!!

Immediately a speech bubble popped up.

LOL

STOP, JUS LEMME HAVE A LAUGH OMGG

EHEM, EHEM!!

i wouldst v’ry much like—th..uhh that

^-^

and u said I got my shit from google

took u 10mins just to look something up and put together that scrambled egg of a sentence

lmaooo

ANYWAYS!!

@ 7

T’is a date!

it’s a date

:)

*　　　　　　　　

　　 . ⊹ ⁺

☾　˚₊‧꒰ა It’s a date! It’s a date! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚　　. 　　

✦⠀　,　

˚ . I threw my phone onto the bed and screamed into the pillow. Excitedly kicking my legs. ⋆ ⠀　　　⠀.　

　　˚　　　　,　“Wait, oh my gosh!”—I grabbed back my phone—“I gotta tell the others. Imma need help with this!” .

.

< to: we r lightskin, n’ we can help you >

guess who’s goin on a date with a certain sum1 2 the carnival this Saturday, @ 7??!

I laid sprawled out. Waiting for my phone to blow up—bzzt! bzzt!.. BZZTBZZTBZZTBZZTBZZT! Oh, never mind.

What will we even do? Oki, I mean..yeah! It’s the literally the fair. Just get up on a damn ride, ‘woohoo’ n’ whatever, but like..it’s been a little minute since I’ve went out-out…especially on a date.

My smile fell and settled into a deep frown.

What if I embarrass myself? What if I don’t even get to do that? . What if she flakes out last minute? Or worse! What if—

“BOOOOORRRIIING!” I yelled. Wiping my face to swipe all of that negativity into the trash.

　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.

. “Yeah, enough entertaining that shit..” ,

　 *　　 ⠀.★

　　　　　.　　　　“It’s a date,” I reassured myself. Lightly brushing my fingertips over my lips. That dopey smile making its way back on my face. “It’s a date.” ⠀✦

　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*　　　　　

It’s a

ₒₐa

。

o

O

○

🅳. Ⓘ ᗡ ๏ ˎˊ˗

П. 𝗚

ˏˋ. Ͷ【G】

═══╝

✎ the house stood still. then came the hushed shrieks

✎ oc was suddenly pulled into a whirlpool of 21 questions n’ inspection: “text—no, CALL me when you guys get there! and give me updates every four hours.” “do you have your keys? what about your lipgloss?” “ur location still on?” their friend, brandy, patted n’ smoothed down the crop top she had picked out 4 them 2 wear (along with some shorts). “okay..okay..” reassuringly murmuring more 2 herself than them. making sure the 10 strips of boob tape was wrapped securely (they REFUSED 2 wear a bra again!..unless it was rly cute ofc)

✎ n’ right before they knew it , n’ could answer a damn question, they were shoved out the house with a slam behind them

✎ staring @ the puzzled freckled faced girl (who quickly collected themselves from tripping up the steps from the porch n’ almost crushing the gifts she had bought them)

✎ she was dressed in a plain black wife beater top, dark green lounge shorts n’ those damn converses. she scrunched up her face n’ scoffed @ nearly everything dina originally had picked out. hyping herself up in the bathroom “damn i look good” while dina stared @ her thru the mirror bored n’ rolled her eyes before walking away

✎ does that shit where she uses her spit 2 slick her eyebrows instead of buying eyebrow gel

✎ all of that just 4 her 2 hide in her car 4 almost 10mins outside of oc’s place bcuz she was doubtful n’ regretting her outfit choice

✎ oc ooooobviously thought she looked hot af (regardless/always) ♡

✎ “oh uh, sorry about that. my friends are uh..” oc’s hands flailed around as they tried 2 collect their words. pointing n’ looking back towards the front door, but paused when they didn’t see any light from the other side of the peephole. “the fuck..?” were they..seriously watching them?! looking 2 the window, immediately the curtains shuffled bk. NOSEY PERVERTED AS—

✎“like that isn’t you..” ellie let out a chuckle from behind them. “here.” she handed them an overly stuffed gift basket full of pop up confetti cards, candy n’ sum other things. knowing how much they love 2 b spoiled with all the lil silly things that makes their world go round. beaming like a child on halloween night

✎ ▷▷: engulfed by the shrill screams of kids n’ the aroma of overly sweetened treats in the air battling the occasional MUSK from ppl that refused 2 wear/carry deodorant. the two of them spent the first half an hr pushing thru the crowd 2 find one of those expensive air sprayed shirt displays. bought sets of two: coordinating n’ individuals. oc settled picked a stencil 4 their shirt 2 say heaven sent in bubble font with a hot babe on the side where ellie’s said hell bound in block font with a big headed styled chibi drawing of her

✎ individuals: oc’s got a bunny blowing hubba bubba n’ ellie’s was of the moon of course (she’s never taking it off btw)

✎ oc tots failed 2 b keep their frens posted buh @ least they turned on their location. it counts 4 sumthin!

✎ oc has a major sweettooth: practically inhaled a diabolical sugar rush of strawberry milkshake topped with giant lollipops, cotton candy, sprinkles n’ gummy bears. ellie felt sick jus looking @ it. they were getting caramel popcorn next

✎ all the rides were old n’ rusty as hell. went on the lil spooky merry go-round n’ not even a jump scare or sum flashing lights, jus riding in the dark 💀 wasted 3tickets 4 that shi

✎ they shared a liking 2 fast, spinning rides. jus another n’ a much more fun excuse 2 b up against each other (…in public)

✎ not silly, jus a menace: “put ur foot here” ellie bent down 2 show oc a cool trick, “now lift,” already walking away. pleased n’ laughing 2 herself. “UUUUGH!” leaving behind oc 2 grimace @ the glob of gum stuck beneath their shoe. yeah, cuz that’ll show em’ 4 putting a fkn ZIP TIE who tf just carry’s those??! on ellie’s car handle attached 2 a shopping cart 2 beat her in a (mini n’ SAFE) race back to her place

✎ “it was funny. laugh!” ellie mocked. circling oc as they pretended to b annoyed. “y’all hear sumthin?” literally jus talking 2 themselves, per usual. ellie kissed her teeth “such a baby, here I’ll make it up to you” she stride towards one of the many gaming booths where workers who looked like they had better things 2 do boringly resisted lines along “step right up…” (disappointingly looking nothing like nor holding the same enthusiasm like that one guy from that carnival video game) “which one you want?” oc pointed at a Kai-Lan plushie

✎ ooh, she cheated. it was either that or she was gonna (somehow) steal the plushie. the both of them coming 2 an agreeable justification: all the games were rigged

✎ hanging out 4 a bit, ellie ate two corndogs n’ oc stuffed their face full of fries (that were no different—literally bought from the grocery store, not they cared anyways. their argument being “it’s tastes better!”) while they complained n’ expressed their delight 4 the “architecture” of fairs. rambling on n’ on about how lame most places r now 4 taking down all the weird whacky shi: the giant objects on the walls @ in malls 4 advertisement, the fake homes above the deli/vegetable section in grocery stores, fuckin’ fast food restaurants n’ movies theaters losing wha made them movie theaters in the first place. “whyyy do i have to drive out of the state just to find a movie theater that still uses mothafuckin’ cutouts?!” all the things that made life a little more enjoyable. “look, look!!” holding up their phone 2 ellie’s face “i know what im talking about!!”

✎ completely bypassed the ferris wheel or a causal walk right after eating n’ excitedly got in line 2 the fkn GRAVITRON🧍🏽‍♀️learned absolutely NOTHING from the last time they went 2 the fair n’ ate a shit ton of food before going on a ride. literally has it set as a “rule” in their notes app

✎“shit, i think im gonna—“ ellie held her hand against her stomach as she hunched over the exit railing, covering her mouth. “im walking away from you” oc hurried down the ramp “you better not! stop!!” screaming @ ellie as she chased them around acting as if she was gonna vomit on them

✎ she actually did puke. making a frantic beeline to the bathrooms. oc gave them the french fry bucket they were gonna keep as a souvenir , incase she felt nauseous again buh the toilet wasn’t close by. they’ll jus get another one before they leave

✎ eventually the musky crowd dispersed, children’s screams were replaced by light squeals n’ the pitter patter of shoes against the grass mixed with unintelligible conversations

✎ the two of them made their way towards the back of the fair. headed str8 4 the funhouse that was freakishly empty. the glow from the red lights created a spooky ambiance. just walked right in cuz whoever was supposed 2 stand outside was nowhere 2 b found

✎ “this kinda reminds me of this music video..ca—mm..don’t know a lick of belig..em??..belginguam??” “Are you serious..” “Wait hush, hush, HUSH! uhh..belgium—YEAH, belgium!!”

✎ they started shuffling their body awkwardly, trying 2 replicate the dances in the mv. “lemme stop before something actually happens” it was supposed 2 b like a ritual/possession

✎ “uh uh, back up!” “what i thought you liked me?” ellie corned them tryna get a kiss. “yeah once u brushed n’ rinsed out your mouth! im not kissing no—stop, get off of me, FREAK!” they giggled. pushing her out of the way n’ running back outside

✎ ellie’s ego was satiated from showing off her gaming skills at a mini arcade (since when did they have those??), adding another plushy to the mountain oc was carrying beside her. tho their mood was a bit sour bcuz the photo-booth was out of order , all those pinterest reference photos they were so ready 2 recreate

✎ greedy as$ bought more fries, a burger n’ two extra corndogs. choosing 2 believe the money was being well spent . no real care 4 cost effectiveness , “it made me happy that’s all that matters!!”

✎ n’ ofc, ended the night wit elephant ears AND funnel cake ♡ (n oc’s phone blowing up 4 not giving the dets 2 their nosey frens)

damn that ending was FLAT!! lol 😭😭 tell me if i used hcs properly tho , literally jus told a whole story thru it cuz i couldn’t do it the other way (yet). was fighting 4 my life fr // thanks lot 2: [ @s-4pphics n’ @seattlesellie ] 4 encouraging me 2 write ^-^

[vivienna-vivid]

Eden DoL enjoyers wanting some comfortable fluff with him.

Me, I want to 1v1 him in the woods at night with the moon high up. Stockholm Syndrome only goes so far, my PC needs to vent out her frustrations with him.

[russellius]

Why conflicted?

i think for me this is still superior 🤧 over the canada - belgium streak (+summer break) he achieved perfection

but i still dig the new look (i think you can see that)!!!!! it's just that the jury is still out okay, because DUDE, THE FLUFF.......

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men When You Move in with Them

AN: Sorry for anyone who followed for jjk but that phase is over for now people. I am playing LADS and kinda obsessed so I just have to write about it. I'm still finishing main story so let me know if I'm off but this is just fluff for fun. I might just extend my househusband series for LADS bois.

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: How do LADS men react to reader moving in with them.

Xavier:

The second you’re out of sight, Xavier is on a mission. Your skincare collection? Compromised. Tiny vials of serums and creams vanish into his hands as he experiments, utterly fascinated by how good you always smell.

Did he scream when he mistook your fake lashes for worms? Yes. Would he ever admit to it? Absolutely not.

So don’t be surprised when your shampoo, conditioner, serums, and lotions start running out at an alarming rate. This other worldly prince will not hesitate.

Zayne:

Zayne, dressed in his eternal black-on-black, will take an unreasonably long time staring at his closet once you move in. Because next to his monochrome fits? Your colorful, glittery clothes. He’s fascinated. Maybe even a little in awe and jealous.

You might even catch him pulling out his secret stash of cardigans from the depths of the void, trying to match your vibe just a little.

Also? He loves watching you do your hair. The man is mesmerized by air wrap, loves running his fingers through freshly curled hair.

And his watch collection? Now proudly displayed next to your jewelry. (He's so cute istg ><)

Sylus:

Does the sudden invasion of cutesy decor completely wreck Sylus’ carefully curated aesthetic? Yes.

Does he resist it? Hell no.

Be it Hello Kitty blankets on his sleek black leather couch or tiny fairy garden decor in his study, Sylus lets your presence take over his space without a fight. A cute blanket is a cute blanket, perfectly good for cuddling.

Also, Mephisto? Number one fan of pecking at your shiny trinkets.

Rafayel:

Your foster kitten loves him.

Rafayel, the man who wants 'nothing to do with cats', suddenly finds himself the chosen one. The second you move in, the tiny gremlin attaches itself to him. Following him from room to room, napping in his studio, demanding attention with its judgmental little eyes.

And despite his dramatic sighs and endless complaints about your “vicious monster,” you know the truth.

Because one day, you catch Rafayel casually working while the kitten sleeps in his lap. And before he can argue, you adopt the little guy permanently.

(Oh, and you get another cat for yourself, because fair is fair.)

Caleb:

Caleb owns a ridiculous amount of tactical gear. More than you, even.

But never in his life did he think he’d see a penguin-themed holster.

Yes, he was aware of your growing plushie empire. No, he did not expect the theme to continue onto scabbards and grips.

And yet, here you are. And here he is. In awe.

Does he judge? Not at all. Does he join in? Absolutely.

He now owns matching sock complementary to your gear aesthetics.

Colonel in the streets, pookie in the sheets.

[selfcarecap]

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

[bighitfics]

jungkook fics i can read all night all day seven days a week.

(a recommendation you didn’t know you needed) ₊⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Vows Of Betrayal ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook

— contract marriage au, enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst.

(I will never not scream about this! this is my current favourite read! the enemies to lovers really hits in this one! AND THE SMUT SCENES ARE SO GOOD THEY MADE ME PREGNANT SO I RECOMMEND!) 😩💳

Inevitable ౨ৎ by @ahundredtimesover

— exes to lovers, second chance, parents au, angst.

(this happens to be the cutest story I’ve ever read, the longing and angst is so good!) 🥺🫶🏼

Dextrocardia ౨ৎ by @jeonstudios

— enemies to lovers, fake marriage, cop au, angst.

(this story should be arrested for being so damn good! i love how intense the enemies phase is before they start softening towards each other, the way the author managed to portray the patriarchal issues through this story is incredible, i never thought i’d say this but im an anti of jungkook in this story 😤😡 he better apologise with crocodile tears otherwise he can say goodbye to y/n.

You’re Still Mine ౨ৎ by @wattpadauthour

— workaholic husband jungkook, marriage in trouble trope, second chance.

(THIS STORY IS GONNA BE MY FOREVER FAVOURITE FOR A LONG LONG TIME! NO MATTER HOW MANY STORIES I READ I WILL ALWAYS GO BACK TO RE-READ! LIKE READ IT RIGHTAWAY IF YOU HAVENT! 😤)

Four-Seven-Eight ౨ৎ by @jiminrings

— marriage in crisis, angst, more angst, fluff.

(the heartache you’re gonna feel while reading this is no joke, i really felt sad for the y/n here (and cried a river) AND I LOVE IT WHEN BOOKS MAKE ME CRY LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING TOMMOROW 😻💋 you know its gonna be worth it)

Time After Time ౨ৎ by @hiseyestell

— doctor au, she fell first but he fell harder (but much later), fluff.

(by far the most realistic fanfic I’ve read, jungkook is so cold that you wanna smack him in his stupid head, the female oc is so smitten with him its adorable but sad at the same time) ☹️

His Clumsy Secretary ౨ৎ by @hwangguemfictions

— grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, office romance, major angst.

(this fanfic is criminally good! especially the bgm, the dialogues, the way he’s just so endeared with her, this is a big smash!) 🤰🏻🫦

The Deepest Marks Of Essence ౨ৎ by @lleldey

— tribe leader jungkook, yandere au, smut, angst.

(my favourite writer for a reason! 🫴🏼 i can never stop obsessing over yer unique storylines and writing, she’s my new favourite tbh and this story will convince you as well) 🤭💕

Marrying The Vicount ౨ৎ by @taevjim

— rich man x poor girl, regency era au, smut, filthy fluff.

(my two worlds colliding fr! this author wrote it so beautifully 😍🤌🏻 jungkook as a vicount tho (im already crying between my legs) this is like a fever dream come true, this is so effing good that i think no words are fair enough, maybe you should take a look yourself! (i swear this is worth the read!!!!)

[rafedarling]

Rustyn goes through a phase where he is very clingy towards the reader and wants to hug and kiss his mother all the time and whenever Drew approaches or kisses the reader, Rustyn becomes irritable because his mother is only for him ,sorry if he gets too involved English is not my first language

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐚, 𝐧𝐨

pairing: dad!drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew loves teasing his little buddy especially now that rustyn has entered a clingy phase. he insists on being the sole recipient of your affection, becoming hilariously territorial whenever drew so much as gives you a kiss.

warning(s): fluff, teasing banter, a possessive toddler, mild suggestive humor between parents, and lots of adorable family dynamics.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe

Rustyn just woke up from his nap as you sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Rustyn in your arms. At two years old, your son was growing fast, but right now, he seemed small and vulnerable as he snuggled against you, freshly awake from his nap. His tiny arms wrapped securely around your neck, and his head rested on your chest, soaking in your warmth.

“You have a good nap, sweetheart?” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Rustyn nodded sleepily, his body still heavy with the haze of sleep. He hummed contentedly, nestling even closer.

From across the room, Drew’s familiar voice broke the peace.

“Baby,” he called, his tone laced with affection.

You looked up to find your husband leaning casually against the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling as they met yours. He wore his usual easy grin, the kind that made your heart flutter even after all these how many years.

“Hmm?” you replied, your lips curling into a smile.

Drew crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly.

Before you could reciprocate, however, a firm “No!” interrupted the moment.

You pulled back slightly, startled, and glanced down to see Rustyn glaring up at Drew. His tiny hand shot up, attempting to push Drew away from you.

“Excuse me?” Drew asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He crouched down to Rustyn’s level, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t kiss Mommy?”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, his blue eyes narrowing in determination.

“Mommy’s mine,” he declared, his voice firm despite its high-pitched sweetness.

Drew chuckled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, really? Well, fyi ‘for your information’, little man, Mommy was my woman first. Before you even existed.”

Rustyn’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout, his small arms tightening possessively around your neck.

“No. Mommy’s mine,” he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You stifled a laugh, brushing a hand over Rustyn’s curls.

“Drew, stop teasing him. He just woke up.”

“But it’s so easy,” Drew said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your temple.

Rustyn immediately reacted, a whiny “No!” escaping him as he pushed at Drew’s shoulder with all his might.

“Alright, alright,” Drew said, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

“I’ll back off for now.”

Rustyn gave him a triumphant look, his little chest puffed out as he settled back against you.

You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“You know you’re just making it worse, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“But come on, look at him. He’s like a tiny bodyguard.”

Rustyn’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Drew, as though ensuring he wouldn’t try anything again.

Drew leaned closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You think he’s gonna start charging me a toll just to kiss my own wife?”

You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb Rustyn.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been attached to me like glue all week.”

“Bathroom glue?” Drew asked, raising an eyebrow.

You groaned.

“Yes, even bathroom glue.”

Drew whistled, shaking his head.

“Man, he’s really got me beat.”

The next morning, Drew woke up to the sound of giggles coming from the living room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and padded down the hallway, stopping in his tracks when he saw you and Rustyn sitting on the floor.

You were still in your pjs, your hair loosely tied back, as Rustyn sat in your lap, clumsily stacking blocks. He was giggling uncontrollably.

Drew leaned against the doorway, with a fond smile across his face.

“Well, don’t I feel left out?”

Rustyn’s laughter ceased abruptly as he looked up, his expression instantly turning wary.

“Good morning, you two,” Drew said, stepping into the room.

He crouched down beside you and reached out to ruffle Rustyn’s hair.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head to kiss Drew on the cheek.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t having it. He quickly turned to block Drew’s path, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Mine!” he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone much older than three.

Drew snorted. “Here we go… again.”

You tried to smooth things over, rubbing Rustyn’s back.

“Rustyn, sweetie, Dada’s just saying good morning.”

“No,” Rustyn said stubbornly, glaring at Drew.

“Wow, sassy” Drew said, sitting back on his heels.

“You really don’t want to share, huh?”

Rustyn shook his head firmly, burying his face in your shoulder.

You sighed, giving Drew an apologetic look.

“He’s in full cling mode right now. It’s a phase.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember this when he’s a teenager and wants nothing to do with either of us,” Drew said, though his tone was light.

Rustyn peeked out at Drew, his pout softening slightly.

“Mommy’s mine,” he whispered, as if reiterating his claim.

“Alright, alright, she’s all yours” Drew said, holding up his hands.

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Drew shook his head, chuckling.

“You know, for someone so small, he’s got a lot of attitude.”

“Wonder where he gets it from,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Drew.

Drew smirked. “Definitely you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. Moments like this were your favorite.

By the afternoon, Drew decided it was time to reclaim some territory. While Rustyn was busy playing with his toy cars, Drew sidled up to you in the kitchen.

You were chopping vegetables for lunch when he slipped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Hi,” he murmured against your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, smiling as you leaned into him.

“You know,” Drew began, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I don’t think Rustyn’s watching right now.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“Drew,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real conviction.

“What? Can’t a husband show his wife some affection?” he asked innocently.

Before you could respond, the sound of tiny feet padding into the kitchen reached your ears.

Rustyn appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Drew holding you.

“No!”

Drew sighed dramatically, releasing you and turning to face Rustyn. “Really? I can’t even hug Mommy now?”

Rustyn marched over, his little fists balled up at his sides.

“No, Dada! Mommy’s mine!”

Drew knelt down to his son’s level, shaking his head.

“You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

Rustyn crossed his arms, his pout deepening.

“Mommy loves me more.”

Drew gasped, clutching his chest as though Rustyn’s words had physically wounded him.

“Oh, that’s cold, buddy. Real cold.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You walked right into that one.”

Drew looked up at you, his expression mock-wounded.

“You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I’m just enjoying the show,” you teased.

Rustyn, now satisfied that Drew had been properly put in his place, turned back to you and raised his arms. “Mama up, pleaze.”

You obliged, scooping him up and resting him on your hip.

Drew shook his head as he stood. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Rusty.”

Rustyn stuck his tongue out at Drew, prompting you to scold him gently. “Rustyn, be nice to Dada.”

“Yeah, listen to Mommy,” Drew said, grinning.

Rustyn huffed but leaned his head against your shoulder, clearly unwilling to share you anytime soon.

Drew stepped closer, placing a hand on your back.

“One day, buddy, you’re gonna regret pushing me away. You’ll want my advice on girls, sports, life…and I might just remind you of this moment.”

Rustyn didn’t respond, already drifting off into another nap.

You smiled at Drew, your heart full. “You know he loves you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Drew said, his grin softening into a tender smile.

“But right now, he’s a mommy’s boy so...”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added knowingly.

Drew nodded, wrapping an arm around you both.

“Not for a second.”

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 00

CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series

word count ┊ 798

author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!

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SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.

He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 

It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 

“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”

Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…

…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 

“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 

Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 

“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 

“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 

The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 

“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”

Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 

He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜰɪxᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

…𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴)

angst, fluff, suggestive, physical intimacy, emotional distress, love bites, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, crying, touch starvation, oral fixation, hint of pica, loneliness, make out (in no particular order)

word count - 4k

It wasn't like it had always been a problem. Her putting… her mouth on things. 

It started small, sucking on the tips of her fingers. Running them, one at a time, along her lips and then opening her mouth, moving the finger in and out, puckering her lips around it.

Chris noticed it before she did.

“Why are you doing that?” he’d said once, when they were barely teenagers, watching as she traced the rim of a bottle with her thumb before brushing it against her mouth.

She had only blinked at him. “Do what?”

“That.” He nodded toward her hands. “You always have to be touching your mouth.” His voice was thoughtful, almost teasing, but his eyes were dark, watching the way her lips parted around the plastic. His gaze flicked down, tracking the way her tongue darted out. Just for a second, just to wet her lips.

She hadn’t responded. Because how does she explain to someone, someone who knows her better than she knows herself, that it wasn’t just a habit? That it was something deeper, something she couldn’t name.

Her mouth around her water bottle, all day. Lollipops. Gum. Ice cubes. Nothing quite hit the spot.

She licked her cutlery clean every night. Ran her tongue along the blade, the edge of her tooth. The rose quartz she kept by her pillow, carefully and delicately held between her lips, teeth tightly shut to avoid any accidents.

And then, one day, she started to cry. For the same unknown reason. Sleepily, sadly, alone. She would hold onto her childhood teddy for dear life, cradling it like a newborn. She wound her body around it like she was a baby herself, tucking her head to her chest. The fur tickled her nose and she breathed in the comforting smell of the bear she had had since she was small.

The texture was soft but unsatisfying, the pressure grounding but never quite enough. She sucked lightly, her breath hitching. She didn’t need it, she didn’t need any of this, but the ache in her chest was quieter when she had something warm against her lips.

Slowly but surely, she would place open-mouthed kisses all over the stuffed animal. Sucking on the fur softly, she would dredge her fingers through the back of its head. She inhaled whilst doing so, breathing in the almost-human scent that had come to rest on the bear after her years of snuggling up to it.

It became a habit, the one thing to dull the urge, to make her feel that little bit less starving.

She now made sure to save herself for when she was in the comfort of her own room.

Under the soft covers, cuddling her bear, she came to realise the problem for what it was.

It wasn’t just about having something in her mouth. It was about touch. Or rather, the absence of it.

Nothing made that clearer than being here.

The house was packed—music thumping, laughter cutting through the air, dim lights casting long shadows against the walls. She stood at the edge of it all, sipping lemonade from a red cup, watching one of her best friends curl into her boyfriend’s side like she belonged there.

They had been attached at the hip all night. Still lingering in the honeymoon phase. His hand resting on her waist, fingers grazing her skin. Their bodies swaying together as they laughed, the kind of effortless, intimate touch that no one thought twice about. Except her.

She swallowed hard, looking away.

It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly. It was something else. Something heavier.

Because if she really thought about it, if she let herself admit it, she didn’t just want to be them. She wanted to know what it felt like. To have someone’s lips on hers. Their hands on her skin. To be wanted like that.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling untethered, like a ghost hovering in the background of her own life.

And then… Chris. Her best friend, since well, forever. Since the tooth fairy first came, since he grew out of his lisp, since... always.

Christopher Owen Sturniolo, standing next to her, idly spinning a beer bottle between his fingers as he rambled on and on. He usually didn't drink much, so she was surprised he had the drink in his hands at all. He'd been sipping at it all night, and she doubted he'd drink more than two thirds before they leave.

He looks over at her, but doesn't say anything for a while. Then, he reaches over, brushing his hand on her shoulder.

She straightens up, surprised at the sudden gesture.

“Hey, I know you might just wanna head home after this…but you've been so quiet all-night and it's been ages since we've hung out just the two of us. So, if you want to, and totally okay if you don't, do you want to come over? We could just watch a movie, eat shit, and, I mean, I'll sleep on the couch if it makes you more comfortable.”

She looks over at Chris, beaming. They haven't had a sleepover in a long time, it's true. Partly due to the fact that he hogs the blanket, partly due to the fact that sharing a bed past the age of 12 just felt a little weird.

Despite herself, she nods her head, glad for a simple night between friends. Maybe spending more time with her friends, especially the single ones, will make her feel less alone.

“That sounds great”, she says to Chris.

He grins back at her, slapping his knee. “That's what I'm talking about”, he says excitedly, “Let's head past 7/11 on the way.”

Chris was relieved. She had been distant lately, lost in thought in a way that made something inside him ache. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling it—the sharp tug in his chest when she looked at other guys like they held answers he couldn’t give her. The way she drifted further away, like she was searching for something, someone, and it wasn’t him.

Maybe that was why he had grabbed a beer tonight. Not to get drunk, just to feel a little less like the guy who never got chosen. He sometimes hated the fact that he was content just loving her from afar.

When they finally make it to his house, they both tiptoe upstairs, trying not to wake anyone else up. Somehow, she still remembers which steps to skip on the staircase. It's a comforting feeling.

Chris shuts the door behind them very slowly, and then they both erupt into a fit of giggles at their spy-like adventure. Chris pokes her in the ribs, and she could tell he was still the tiniest bit tipsy. She was just the right amount of sleepy so that the atmosphere between them felt good. Natural. Right.

They both pick a movie to watch as per their childhood rules, with the guest's movie first. After forcing Chris through one of her favourite comedies, which he claimed he hated, Chris picked out a classic film from their childhood. 

She notices her teddy bear poking out of the bag she had packed. Debating on whether to pick it up, she eventually grabs it, tucking it under her arm. Chris notices, of course.

“Hey, I remember this little guy! You still have him?” he asks enthusiastically.

“Yup,” she mumbles, “can't sleep without him.” She doesn't know what it is about Chris that makes her comfortable enough to say something like that at all. 

Little does he know, she thinks, ashamed of her neediness.

Chris just smiled as she settled on the bed, but something about it stuck with him. It wasn’t just the bear… it was everything. The little things she did when she thought no one was looking. The way she pressed her lips together when watching couples. The quiet yearning in her eyes that he wasn’t sure she even recognised.

The movie starts and she immediately feels a sense of peace that she hasn't in a long, long time. Chris does too, and she can tell by the way his eyes light up at the classic animation.

About halfway through, it hits her. Really hits her. The nostalgia. The sadness. The loneliness. It doesn't matter that she's in a house full of people she's known her whole life, with Chris beside her. She still feels… so wretchedly alone. 

And so the ache begins.

She tries to subtly run her thumb across her lips and teeth. But Chris cracks a joke and she can't help but giggle, ruining the sensation that already provided little comfort. 

After ten painstaking minutes go by, she settles on her last resort. She manoeuvres her body to be laying on her side, facing Chris, with her head still pointed towards the screen. She maintains distance with the boy so as to not draw attention to herself, as she hugs the bear with both arms across her chest.

She rests the lower part of her mouth on the crown of the bear's head, flicking her gaze up to Chris who is still fully immersed in the film. Seeing that, she sucks idly on the fur with her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as she can manage.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris observes her change in position. He's glad that her body language is more open now, and she seems more comfortable. She looks small there, on his bed, practically curled up. He doesn't remember when he started caring so much more about how she felt, whether she was comfortable, what she was thinking. Caring about her, about them. He didn't mind though. He appreciated just being close to her.

He glanced down at her every so often, from his position up by the headboard. He took note of her features, the soft rise and fall of her chest, trying to tell if she was still awake. She was curled up with her teddy bear, just like when they were younger.

Just as the movie only has 20 minutes to go, an especially quiet scene makes him hear it. The ever so slight sound of someone… sucking? Chris looks down at her again. He notices the subtle movement of her head as it seemingly nestles into the teddy bear.

He doesn't know why his skin suddenly feels like it's on fire.

Confused, he nonetheless opens his mouth, “Hey,” he says softly, shaking her shoulder to see if she's still awake.

She jolts at the contact, awkwardness rippling through her body. Had he noticed? Does he think she's pathetic? She removes her mouth from the bear, carefully wiping it as she does in a lame attempt to keep up appearances. 

She cranes her neck to look at him, her lips glossy from the sucking and her eyes wide and innocent despite the late hour. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“What's up?”, she asks, trying to sound casual but it just comes across as meek.

Chris stares at her, dumbfounded, before clearing his throat. “No, nothing, just wanted to see if you were still awake.” he manages, blurting words out too slow and too fast. He wasn’t sure why he lied. Maybe because seeing her like that—so vulnerable, so desperate for something—felt like looking into a mirror.

She smiles at him, and goes to turn back to the movie, but his hand on her shoulder again stops her. She trembles slightly, fearing once again that this night has taken a turn for the worst. 

“What- um, what were you doing just now? I heard like a, a weird noise?”

Instead of responding, she casts her eyes to his hand on her shoulder and then down to the bear. She bit the tip of her tongue in a desperate attempt to calm herself. Before she realises, small hot tears spurt out of her eyes, soaking her face and the teddy bear. 

Chris reacts instantly, pulling her in and cradling her against him. She whimpers into his hoodie, the teddy bear still clutched in her arms creating a physical barrier between them.

“Shhh, it's okay, it's okay. What's wrong?” he coos, patting her on the back in a smooth, circular motion.

She hates herself for crying but she hates even more that she's allowing Chris to comfort her like this. She doesn't want to take advantage of his kindness, especially not for a reason as pathetic as hers. Slowly but surely though, she calms down.

Chris loosens his grip, but she remains close to him. It feels like a dream to hold her like this, but not for this reason. He looks down at her, patting the back of her head.

“You gonna talk to me, now?” he asks tentatively.

She shook her head, unable to answer. But slowly, she spoke—haltingly, painfully. She told him everything. The habits. The loneliness. The yearning. The unbearable, gnawing need.

Chris had nothing to say. He was in shock. Disbelief. How could it be, that the girl he had loved his entire life, had felt this neglected? Alone. Touch starved.

Was he stupid? Probably.

When her rambling finally came to an end, the shame she had previously felt had melted away. Now she just felt bare. Naked. And not in a fun way.

After some time in silence, the credits of the film began to roll, and she glanced at the screen, sorry that she had missed the ending of one of their favourite films.

Chris grasps her chin spontaneously, sending shivers and jolts of electricity through her. He turns her face back to his and adjusts his grip so that he can run his thumb over her bottom Iip.

She gasps at his movement, searching his eyes only to find them a dark and deep, ocean blue. For the first time in a long time, she feels a warmth spread across her body. From just one touch. His touch. Her best friend's.

Chris continues to trace her mouth with his thumb. She stares at him, questioningly, before shyly taking the tip of his thumb in between her teeth, careful not to hurt him as she poked him with the tip of her tongue. She inhales sharply as she does so, and he makes a low humming sound.

Chris inhaled, his fingers tightening around her waist. The moment was electric. Wordless. Perfect.

He took a shaky breath, his thumb still resting against her lips. His voice was quieter when he spoke, almost like he was afraid to say it out loud.

“I don’t think I can keep this in anymore,” he admitted, his fingers tightening slightly against her waist. “I’ve liked you for so long. I don’t even know when it started. Maybe since we were kids, maybe since forever.” He huffed a soft, nervous laugh, shaking his head. “But it’s not just some dumb crush. It’s… you. You’re the only one I ever look for in a room. The only person who makes everything else feel… smaller, like it doesn’t matter as much.”

His eyes flickered across her face, searching for something, anything, that told him he hadn’t just made a mistake.

She stared back at him, breathless. “Chris…”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t have to say anything, I just-”

“It’s always been you.”

His heart stuttered.

She was smiling now, her eyes bright in the dim light, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.

They both smile at each other, a look full of adoration and praise. When he retracts his hand, she stifles a whimper at the loss of contact. But before long, he takes her face with both hands and kisses her. She's shocked for a second, and then softly, with a quiet hunger, kisses him back. She reaches her hand out to touch him, to ground herself in this moment, but hesitates.

Chris lets go of her face as he kisses her, moving his hands to her shoulders and then running them up and down her sides. He grabs her by the waist and tugs her towards his lap, and she happily wraps herself around him as they continue.

There's something about the moment that feels so perfect, so right, that both of their brains are at a complete standstill. No worry, no anxious thought, no quiet concern reaches them. He pours all of his love, pining, desire into the kiss, and she offers her endless affection, her boundless love in return. 

When they finally come up for air, Chris presses his forehead to hers, and they breathe in rhythm.

Her lips felt swollen, tingling in a way no sweet or pen cap had ever made them. She ran her tongue over them, chasing the ghost of his mouth on hers, and exhaled shakily. Nothing had ever felt like this, not the edge of a lollipop, not the stuffed bear she still tucked under her chin at night.

Chris smiles widely, and it's like something inside her snaps. She straddles him properly, and kisses him again. This time she's in control, as Chris just lies back and takes it, holding onto her for dear life.

The feeling of him this close to her, his familiar smell, his hands on her, drives her crazy. She pulls her mouth off of him and he huffs in annoyance, but she just grins. 

She nods towards his hoodie, and he complies, taking it off quickly. When the top passes over his head, he looks at her again to find her bare chest in front of him also. His jaw drops and he looks at her face, to which she tilts her head like a dog.

“Baby, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.” he admits, watching her blush spread across her cheek. 

“I could argue that title belongs to you.” she retorts, gazing longingly at him.

“Don't spread misinformation, sweetheart.” he says, running his hands along her sides, like before, as if to confirm she's here, solid, in front of him, like this. That it's not some kind of dream. Each time his palms reach her waist, she inhales sharply.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?”

“I love it, baby. I love everything about you.” 

“Yeah?”, it's his turn to cock his head.

She hesitates before responding. “Can I show you?”, she asks innocently.

His stomach twists at the sight of her, and he holds her even more tightly. “Please sweetheart”, he breathes.

And that's all she needs. All she's ever needed.

She traces her lips along his lips again, breathing with him. Then she kisses the side of his mouth, pecking him delicately. She drags her mouth up the right side of his mouth, sucking on his cheekbone lightly.

Chris inhaled sharply, his breath hitching at the unexpected intimacy. He murmured sweet nothings in her ear, his voice hushed but full of devotion. His hands, trembling slightly, caressed her shoulders as if she might break. When her teeth grazed his ear, his body jerked instinctively, and he groaned low in his throat. She rolled the silver earring between her teeth, teasing him and making his senses go numb.

She dragged her mouth and tongue down his neck, the heat of her breath making him shiver. She moaned quietly, the sound of it drawing a fierce response from him. His hands found her waist again, pulling her closer, but she remained focused, kissing lower, deeper.

Then, she found his sweet spot—just beneath his jaw—and the effect was immediate. Chris’ hips bucked against her involuntarily, and his grip on her tightened. His reaction sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she didn’t hesitate to suck at the spot, softly grazing her teeth against it, swirling her tongue with hunger. His hands curled into her hair, urging her on, but she wasn’t done. When she felt satisfied, she kissed the rest of his neck, her lips soft and reverent as she moved, trying to convey her affection in every touch.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do all this... let me, let me help you, sweetheart.” Chris’s voice was thick with longing, almost pained. His lips brushed her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he spoke.

She shook her head, the quiet, affectionate gesture enough to communicate her feelings. Without moving her mouth from his skin, she peppered soft kisses along his collarbone, sucking gently at a spot where the bone protruded, twisting her lips in a slow, tender motion.

Chris’s breath caught, and his chest heaved slightly. His hand moved from her waist back to her shoulder blades, cradling her gently, as though holding her meant grounding himself in the moment. He kissed the top of her head softly, smoothing her hair down as he whispered words she couldn’t fully hear, but she could feel the adoration in his touch. She'd never felt so much love with so little words.

Her kisses traced upwards now, all the way from the left shoulder to the right, pausing at moments to deliver small love bites to his chest, lingering on his skin as though she couldn’t get enough of him. With every kiss, her need to touch, to taste, to savor, grew stronger. Her lips pressed into his chest with a softness that held an undeniable depth of desire. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was the way she needed him, the way she sought to consume him, to lose herself in the taste of him, in the feel of him. 

Each time she moved, he responded, his breath quickening, his body shifting as though he couldn’t quite stay still. His hands wandered up and down her back, fingertips tracing the soft curve of her spine. Every touch felt desperate, a silent plea for more, but he didn’t want to rush it. She was slow, and he was impatient, aching to feel every bit of her.

When she finally stilled, it was at the center of his chest, where she placed a delicate kiss, her lips lingering as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Chris’s hand stroked her hair again, this time gently pulling her up to meet his gaze.

With a soft sigh, she pressed her lips to his mouth, kissing him gently, lingering there, not wanting to part quite yet. When she finally drew away, her lips were red and puffy from the intensity, but the love in her eyes matched his own—a quiet, profound adoration.

“I would do more, baby,” she mumbled against his lips, her voice soft with a trace of exhaustion. “But I’m really sleepy.”

Chris’s hand cradled her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. He smiled, the corners of his eyes softening. “S’more than enough, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Eventually they find a position that left them close but comfortable still. Chest to chest, both laying on their side, her legs between his, his head tucked under her chin.

She sucks on the hair on the top of his head softly, dredging her fingers through the back of his head. She inhaled whilst doing so, breathing in her new favourite scent that just happened to be oh-so-familiar after years of sleeping beside Chris as kids, as pre-pubescent teens. Now, as, well whatever, that didn't matter to her right now.

She finally had something, someone that made her feel that less starving.

In fact, Chris made her feel kind of full. Satisfied, even.

It wasn’t just about having something in her mouth. It was about touch. Or rather, the intimacy of it. The love shared between them.

And just as they were about to drift off to sleep, Chris murmured in her ear...

“I have something else you can put that mouth on.”

She giggled, “I do too.”

She drifted off thinking about all the ways they’d fit together—both in the quiet of the night and in every moment after. They didn’t need to say another word.

creds to rose for dividers @bernardsbendystraws !!! also creds to @ishasturnz for helping me edit this one,, v much appreciated!

a/n: can u believe this was meant to be a blurb. anyway this came to me in a dream i guess (the sucking not the plot). probably the closest to smut ill ever write tbh.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid comment to be added/removed from my main (non-au) taglist !

cya soon!!

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: bee hybrid yandere, kidnapping, oviposition, breeding, aphrodisiac

Taking you, the queen from his hive was strictly forbidden, even seen as taboo. You were meant to be shared and treasured by the entire hive… but he couldn’t stand it.

The thought of the other bee hybrids touching you and filling you with their filthy eggs made him see red.

Why couldn’t they understand that you were HIS? Not a single one of them deserved you, only he was worthy of depositing his eggs in the queen.

You woke up in a small room, the fluffy body of your captor draped over you and buzzing happily when he noticed you were awake.

“Oh, my queen, you’re up…”

He let out a low purring sound as he nuzzled against you. His fluff was warm and smelled nice, but you struggled a bit. “Where… am I?”

The bee hybrid didn’t seem phased at all by your confusion. “I took you away from the hive, don’t worry. You’ll be safe here, and you won’t have to be touched by so many people all the time…”

He caressed your cheek, his black eyes staring into yours as he leaned in to cover you in kisses. It hadn’t really been your choice to become the bee hybrid queen in the first place, so you didn’t bother trying to escape or complain.

Your life remained relatively similar to being in the hive. Every day he left to gather nectar for honey, coming back and immediately getting to work. When he was done, he always wanted to mate his precious queen and receive praise for all of his work.

But you really wanted to go home. You missed your life with the other humans, where you went to work, hung out with loved ones, and did as you pleased.

Bringing it up with him only made your life harder.

“Let you go..?”

He seemed confused by your sudden desire for freedom, the bee hybrid towering over you as he buzzed threateningly. “No, you must not be feeling well my queen. Letting you go would mean putting you in potential danger. Perhaps I need to show you how pampered you are…”

He was quick to pin you down, his lips peppering kisses along your neck almost like an apology before he bit down.

The bite was painful, making you cry out as he shushed you. “Shh, shh…”

You felt almost woozy as you watched honey drip from his mouth and into the wound, your eyes struggling to stay open.

But once it fully seeped into you, your eyes shot open and you felt your entire body heating up. Slick pooled between your legs, and his wings twitched excited as his cock stood at full attention.

“I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry… my sweet thing, my queen…”

The feeling of him fucking into you, of his eggs filling your womb had you cumming over and over again. Every little rub on your clit, every thrust had your body trembling.

You had never felt such pleasure before, your eyes hazy as his tongue tangled with yours.

Once he was done with you, your tummy was full and bloated, your pussy oozing cum.

“Liked it, didn’t you?” he cooed, his cock nudging your sensitive clit. “I can make you feel like this every day, but you have to be a good girl for me…”

The feeling was addicting, and even though you were stuffed to the brim, you begged for more.

His sweet, precious queen was already under his spell.

———————

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