#babe I have books. w paper. that can get wet

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

Why is it raining so much here rn whattttt the fuck

#like. 4 days in a row #bunch a rain #I live in a fucking desert what is this #February flowers bring march showers ig #jk I don’t know the actual saying lmaoooo #but like #babe I have books. w paper. that can get wet #why are you doing this #The Crab Speaks

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

#tanaka x reader #tanaka x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #anime x male reader #m!reader #x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #ryuunosuke x reader

[cockasinthebird]

Number 11 please!

Hello hello hello!! ✨

11. “If this is a booty call then yes.”

I went with a Modern Day College AU for the sake of texting and, well, booty calls, I hope that’s to your liking!!! Thank you so much for sending one in, I’ve gotten so many and each one of you all hold a special place in my heart! 🤗💕

Just above 3k words! Enjoy~

-

Fuck fuck fuck.

He groans in exasperation and throws his head back onto the pillow, dark hair spreading, clean and still a slight bit damp from the shower. Every night, to wind down from another stressful day of studying and classes, he goes through an intricate ritual to unwind and calm down, spending close to two hours in the communal bathroom on this floor, using a dozen different skin care products and hair masks. It makes him feel better about himself, makes him feel pretty despite only being able to sleep for about four hours every night.

But sometimes it isn’t quite enough to make him relax.

Stress, anxiety, parental pressure, all of it is keeping him awake and it’s definitely going to have him grow gray hair and wrinkles all too early. Not that he wouldn’t absolutely rock the shit out of silver hair, but he likes his brown hair, thick and deep in its color, although Billy has been talking about how good highlights would look.

Hmmm Billy

Billy Billy Billy

Now there’s someone that doesn’t cause him any grief, if you look past the few fist fights they’ve been in in the past, at the start of the semester, and the occasional teasing.

Steve thinks some more about Billy, the gorgeous, handsome lit major, moved here from California, skin kissed and beloved by the sun, body hard and firm with sculpted biceps and rippling abs. 

He chews a bit on his lower lip as he looks to his phone, peeking out from underneath his pillow, daring him to just text him. Billy’s only two floors up. And Steve’s been spending the last half hour fingering himself and jerking off, craving that sweet, delicious relief, but all he’s gotten so far is a half chub and exhausted fingers.

The more he thinks about it, the better of an idea it seems, so he wipes his fingers clean of lube and grabs his phone.

Bambi: U up 💕

Despite it being 1am, the response is near immediate.

👑💘🌹: If this is a booty call then yes

👑💘🌹: 🍆👌💦

And Steve feels heat rush to his gut immediately, proving way more effective than his own touch - way to be biased, body.

Bambi: Tommy’s spending the night w/ Carol

👑💘🌹: 👍👍👍

He smiles wide with a clear blush to his cheeks and shies away, covering his face with a hand. So maybe he’s got a crush, but who cares! He can handle it, it’s fine, Billy’s not the “relationship type,” as he explained before their first time together, and it is fine.

Quickly he throws the phone back onto the mattress, jumps up and starts shoving dirty laundry under his bed, papers and books get crammed into the drawers of his desk, and he just barely manages to check his hair in a mirror before there’s a gentle knocking.

Billy must have hurried down here, and just so, Steve rushes to open the door to his dorm room.

“Did anyone see you?” he quietly asks Billy through the slightly ajar opening.

“If they did, I doubt they’d tell anyone; wouldn’t wanna get caught sneaking around past midnight.”

And Billy doesn’t wait for Steve to invite him in before pushing through. He looks around the dimly lit room, taking in all the barrenness of dorm life - it being nothing like they show in the movies or on instagram. 

“Looks the same as last; you ever gonna put up poste-” he goes mum as he turns to Steve, now realising that he’s naked and hard.

The devil is in his grin, and it makes Steve’s soul ache, cock twitch, as he looks back with heavy eyes, dark with lust, grabbing Billy by the collar of his tee to pull him into a deep and desirous kiss, tongues out to taste, hands slipping down his pale back to squeeze his exposed ass, eliciting an erotic, “A-ahh.”

“You’re so eager, huh pretty boy?” Billy drawls all sensuous as he gropes Steve, bringing their hips flush together, fingers inching between cheeks, closer and closer and-

He leans away, staring at Steve with his mouth slightly open, watching him as he presses one finger all the way in.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps loudly.

Billy’s slack jaw tenses to a grin, and he chuckles as he licks across his teeth. He doesn’t pause, keeps pumping his finger in and out, and Steve can feel how Billy’s cock grows hard against his own leaking prick, caught between them.

“Hmmm been thinking ‘bout me, babe?” Billy hums in the most mischievous way, drives the finger as deep as he can go and wiggles it around.

Steve squirms, rutting his hips against Billy, moaning all too loud with just one finger and some friction against his impatient dick. He tries to kiss Billy, have his lips muffle him, keep him quiet, but the blonde just dodges out of the way with a shitty smile.

But when Billy presses a second, thick, rough finger in, it becomes impossible to not pant and cry like he always does, making him weak in the knees, like pudding in Billy’s hands.

“I love how easy it is with you,” Billy growls and moves down Steve’s neck, sucking and biting and licking, marking him with gorgeous purple hickeys. “Already so wet and stretched out perfect for my big cock.”

Steve wants to retort, say something of equal vulgarity, tell him just how bad he needs Billy to fuck him blind, shove his head into the pillow and pound into his ass. But all he can do is push onto those two fingers, whimper breathlessly against Billy’s lips, and clutch his hands in the fabric of his shirt.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby, can’t have you waking up the whole campus. Think you can do that for me?”

He nods, profusely, and stumbles through his words, “Yes, yes, I’ll shut up, please just… I-I need to relieve some goddamn stress.”

Billy’s self-satisfied smirk cracks open a little to show teeth as he chuckles, a low and dark rumble that Steve feels beneath his palms. “I can help you with that.”

And Billy kisses him again, licks into the sweetness of Steve’s mouth, swallowing every little whimper that comes whenever those digits curl, fully inside of Steve’s ass. When he pulls them out he leaves behind an aching emptiness; Steve feeling so needy he’s actually a slight bit uncomfortable in the absence of being filled and stretched.

“Go sit on the bed,” Billy demands, smirking with lidded eyes, gazing at Steve with such promises, he can’t help but melt a bit.

Steve doesn’t hesitate before sitting down on his bed; it’s a small and wooden frame, big enough for one person, two if they’re on their sides or on top of one another. All kinds of things are possible even with limited space, as these two have discovered through the last half year.

Billy lifts off his shirt and drops the shorts, exposing his steely, veiny cock, standing to full attention at Steve’s eye height, and he feels his entire body twitch with far too much enthusiasm, mouth running at the sight like a fucking dog and bone. Billy moves closer, spreads his legs and plants them on either side of Steve.

“Wanna suck me off, pretty boy?” it's barely an ask, as Billy brings one hand to drag his fingers through Steve’s hair, the other to angle the tip of his fat dick towards Steve’s lips.

Steve gazes up at him through his lashes, looking almost thankful for the opportunity, and he’s not gonna lie, there is something so enjoyable about having Billy’s cock heavy in his mouth, although he’s not super into swallowing, he’d do it for him.

So he wets his lips, runs his tongue flat and broad against Billy’s blunt head like it’s a goddamn ice cream cone, watches how he bites his lip, staring at how Steve tentatively tastes him before sinking down abruptly, all the way till his nose brushes against Billy’s lower abdomen, his dick hitting the back of Steve’s throat.

“Fuck, Harrington,” Billy groans out and brings a hand against the wall to support himself as he bends forward. 

Steve works his tongue, swallows around the head, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulls off again till he can suck at the tip, then goes back down, starts bobbing and moaning.

Billy “helps” a bit, catching on to the rhythm and thrusting along to it, testing to see just how deep and fast he can go before Steve would start complaining. Which proves to be quite a bit more than Steve offered up initially; with a fist locked tightly in his hair, he relaxes as much as he can to allow Billy free reigns of fucking into his mouth, sloppy and careless and obscene, spit running down Steve’s chin as he does nothing but enjoy being used by Billy.

Billy Billy Billy

Billy’s scent is incredible, musky and dominant and salty, his sweat tasting all the same, and Steve has started to notice that whenever they’re together, whenever they’re intimate, Billy doesn’t bother with cologne or deodorant or anything that might obscure his smell. Maybe Billy doesn’t care to be all fancy and proper around Steve like he is with the girls or other guys around campus. Maybe he knows it drives Steve wild.

Steve had gotten so lost in the moment, that when Billy pulls all the way out it’s a sudden awakening, and Steve swallows only spit and pre, wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and is left gasping for air like he just ran a marathon.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” Billy sounds just as out of breath, probably having been all too close to cumming already.

Eagerness so apparent when he throws himself onto the bed it’s almost embarrassing, as he dives for the large box underneath his bed. It takes a second of rummaging through dildos and vibrators and lubes to find a condom wrapper, and barely does he get to offer it up before Billy yanks it from his fingers.

He fiddles a bit with the foil, grinning in a way that makes Steve’s skin crawl wonderfully, then asks, “Want me to take you from behind? Fuck you hard into your bed?” each word a lascivious little promise.

“Please…” Steve’s voice quivers with wanton.

Loves getting absolutely railed by Billy, he trusts him explicitly, would let him do anything. Even if Billy doesn’t feel the same way about Steve, Steve can’t get enough of him; hasn’t been able to think of anyone else or even be with someone other than Billy since they started this little affair months ago.

Billy Billy Billy.

He gets on all fours, gathers his legs and bends down to press his face into his pillow, arching his back. Heart beats faster, full erection twitching where it dangles alone, as he feels the mattress dip on either side of his knees when Billy positions himself behind.

“Mmmh, I like it when you say please and beg for it.” With the condom on, he rubs the fat head of his cock against Steve’s clenching entrance, but then slips it between cheeks, swaying his hips back and forth as he teases with too little.

“Please, Billy,” Steve whines, moves his ass closer for more, but a pair of strong hands stills him. “Please please please, Billy, I need you to fuck me so bad, I-I want your cock, please.”

And Billy pulls away. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Bucks his hips as he shoves his girthy cock all the way in in one fell swoop.

Steve clasps his hand flat over his mouth to keep in the surge of moans that comes from Billy setting a relentless pace, slow but rough, skin slapping together louder than Steve’s own croons and keening.

“Like that?” Billy laughs, nasty and snide, grinning like a wolf staring down at a helpless sheep.

A sheep whose cries gets suppressed by a pillow, as Steve bites into it in his tries to keep quiet, but the way Billy fucks him all brutal and savage feels absolutely incredible, making his eyes roll back.

“God, you take my cock so well, princess,” his growl hot and predatory.

Billy bends forward, grabbing Steve by the neck for support, hand like a vice and pressing him harder into the bed, the other hand on his hip.

“That ok for you?” he asks as if he cares about Steve.

Or maybe that’s just how Steve hears it.

“Y-yes, ahh, fuck!” he says in a hurried tone before biting down on his lip again to keep those kinds of bawdy sounds in.

“Good.” And Billy picks up the speed, thrusts going shallow as he shoves into Steve like both their lives depend on it, making the bed shake and creak beneath their weight.

Each deep plunge more phenomenal than the other, driving straight into his prostate; he won’t last long if Billy keeps this up, waves of the purest arousal drowning out all his other senses, and Steve lets himself get pulled under the current.

“Fuck, baby, love how tight your ass is, arrh, best hole in all of Indiana,” Billy’s voice deep and gravely as he praises Steve with words dipped in honeyed lust. “So eager to suck me dry, all needy and starved for my cock.”

Anyone that has ever had even one conversation with Billy Hargrove will know just how much he loves to listen to himself talk, but Steve can’t blame him, for now there’s nothing more in his world than Billy’s thick erection and sultry voice. Praising him, calling him dear names, groaning and cursing about how fucking good he is. He could listen to it all night; wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

“Feel so good, princess.”

Billy…

“So nice and warm and soft inside of you.”

Billy…

“Wanna cum inside of you so bad.”

“Billy, I’m-I’m… so close, ah-h-” Steve’s voice a mess in contrast to how cool and collected Billy remains.

“Shh, gotta be quiet,” his tone soft and delicate as he continues to utterly ram into Steve’s sensitive body, pounding like a hammer.

He bends down, snakes his arm around Steve to cover his mouth, and angles him to the side to kiss across his cheek, nibble at his jawline, bite down his neck.

“Show me how good I make you feel, let me watch you ruin your sheets.”

Steve moans out in agreeance into his hand strong and calloused against his lips, then brings his own down to fist at his leaking prick, throbbing and filled and oh so close, he’s toeing the finish line, only a few strokes away from doing as told, wet and slick with pre, seeking to find the same rhythm as Billy fucks into him, like a rabid dog.

His orgasm is sudden, like being shoved into a pool of euphoria, bottomless and filling his lungs.

“God, yes, fuck, just like that,” Billy growls into his ear, burning hot and white, bringing an extra, warm, thick wave of thrill through Steve’s emptying cock.

He jerks quick and uncontrolled as he spills onto his sheets, toes twitching on the edge of cramping up as his body tenses, Billy’s girthy cock still drilling into him, and when Steve is ready to go limp, blissed out and finally relaxed, Billy leans away.

Grabs him by the hips to continue thrusting, bucking, slapping skin together as he pulls out to the tip just to slam right back in, tugging at Steve’s hips till he’s fully buried to the hilt, then once more, twice, thrice, ramming into Steve where jolts of over stimulated pleasure and a burning sensation makes him cry into his pillow.

And Billy digs his nails into soft flesh as he brings them together, crude and deep as he cums, breathless with a stutter, he brings a hand next to Steve’s head for support. It’s short and silent and uneventful, perfected from years of hiding and fucking around; he once told Steve that loves to fuck in all too public places, dangerous and with high chances of getting caught. Said he wanted to bring Steve to some of those places.

Steve’s… kinda hard again. Sore, exhausted, satisfied, sure, but definitely not entirely flaccid. 

Billy kisses him down his back, across every bump of his spine that he can reach, rubbing soothingly against where his nails have left marks, then pulls out and gets off the bed. He pulls off the condom and throws it into the trash can, untied and reckless.

“How you doing?” he asks as he gets dressed, back turned to Steve.

Who’s still bent over, legs spread out to steady himself a bit, but nevertheless unmoving, staring at Billy’s gorgeous back muscles.

“I’m… yeah, I’m good,” Steve chuckles with a light heart and a way too satisfied and appreciative smile.

Bluest of eyes glance at him over a shoulder, and after putting on his shirt again, Billy goes to kneel by the bed, where he pushes aside a few locks of hair so that he can properly look Steve in the eyes.

Steve thinks it unfair, that the way Billy touches him gently like this burns more than when he holds him down like he did tonight. He hates how easy he is, how needy he is for pure affection, and he can feel it creep up in red on his cheeks.

“You should probably clean all that up before it dries,” Billy says so nonchalant, like their tender little moment here just doesn’t affect him at all.

And Steve can’t do anything but sigh, hopelessly in love with someone who is, as Billy puts it, “A man of the people.”

“Yeah… it’d be real gross if I slept like this,” Steve huffs and sits back on his heels.

“Just get some tissues to wipe it off then sleep on a towel till you can change your sheets tomorrow,” Billy explains, eyeing the wet stain seeping into the fabric, “It’s what I do.”

Then he stands up again, stretching and scratching his stomach with a tired and pleased groan, before heading for the door.

“See you next time, Harrington.”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Mystery Prompt #500 Followers #College AU #Modern Day AU #sergeantjamesrogers

[jojo-daydreams]

ahh, sorry if this is too much but I just noticed your regular requests are open too and loved what you wrote last time I sent one!! I'd like to take a shot at requesting some not-sfw fluff? can I get some sweet n tender Polnareff smut with an extra emphasis on his chest (bara tits *coughs*)? maybe where the reader is having trouble sleeping due to stress and him comforting her leads to shenanigans. fem!reader if its ok, thank!! 😚

*dings that little bell* ONE POL TIDDY FIC COMING RIGHT UP !!!!

hope u like it !!! :’D

N// S// F// W// below the cut !!!

—————————————-

You let out growl of frustration, shoving your papers and books off of your desk in a huff. You were trying to get some important research done, but it just wasn’t going your way tonight. Not only had your internet been cutting out for an hour (which is already enough to cut your fuse in half) but now even with the information you needed it just felt like every time you tried to write anything it was coming out just … wrong.

Glaring down at the offending papers where they had landed on the floor, you sigh and let your shoulder slump. That was stupid. Now you had work to get done and a mess to clean up.

As you stood up to start cleaning up, the door to your office opened, and Polnareff leaning his head in, concern clear on his face.

“What’s going on in here, you ok?”

You gesture around helplessly as you give him a stressed smile, fighting back tears as his concerned tone made you realize just how stressed you truly were.

“I’m ok I just.” You pause, taking a breath to steady your shaky tone- there no reason to cry, there really isn’t. “Work just isn’t… working.”

Polnareff walks over to you, gently looping his arms around you and rubbing your back a bit.

“Shh, it’s ok babe. Why don’t you take a break? I was just making some snacks, why don’t we watch some TV and you can relax a bit? This will all be here when you get back.” He says, tone gentle and understanding.

You pause for a moment, pulling back from his embrace and looking around for a moment before nodding at him and letting him lead you downstairs.

A few episodes into some stupid cheesy drama the two of you had put on, and you found yourself barely paying attention to the tv at all.

Polnareff let out another soft moan as you dragged your nails across his chest over the thin fabric of his black tank top. Alright, so you weren’t paying attention at all anymore. How could you be expected to though, you mused as you took in your boyfriends appearance. Polnareff was looking down at you in his lap with hazy eyes, a light blush settled onto his cheeks, seeming to get redder and redder each time your fingers brushed against his hard nipples as you continued your assault on his chest.

Smiling as you slide your hands under his shirt and back up to his chest roughly, all but kneading his pecs, you delight in the sounds that follow. Ah yes, truly there was nothing more relaxing that turning Polnareff into putty in your hands.

He choked out whimper as your ministrations didn’t let up, hips bucking up, letting you feel how hard he was already as he tried to relieve some of the tension building in his body.

Deciding to be nice tonight, you let yourself fall fully into his lap, resting all your weight on him and grinding your crotch into his with equal vigor.

Polnareff shifts a bit, grabbing your ass with one hand, his firm grip gently encouraging you to keep moving as his other hand grabbed a nearby pillow tightly.

“Babe… please…” He whines, watching you with hooded eyes.

You grin as you lean forward, pinching his nipples a bit as you capture his lips in a searing kiss. He moans against you mouth, and you feel the rhythm of his hips stutter a bit.

Pulling back you flash him a wicked smile and practically purr out your suggestion- though it sounds a bit more like a command.

“Pol, won’t you be a good boy and come for me right now?”

You accentuate your words by digging your fingers into his chest. With no shirt acting as a barrier this time your nails dig into his skin, and you can feel his muscles flexing and tensing beneath your hands.

With one last weak cry and a groan of your name, Polnareff cums below you, a wet spot forming on his jeans and he continues to thrust up against you weakly, riding out the waves of his orgasm, panting your name.

Giving him a few moments to catch his breath, you watch him tenderly. Polnareff looks up finally, meeting your eyes and giving you a tired smile.

You lean forward to peck his lips.

Yeah, you’re most certainly happy with your choice to spend your evening with him instead of your work.

#Jean Pierre Polnareff x reader #Jean Pierre Polnareff #jjba imagine #jjba x reader #smut #*that one spongebob meme face* u like ur tiddys touched .. dont u jean pierre #mimiaou #mine*

[artificialqueens]

razorback, part 2/2 (branjie) - sheep

an: a lil late bc i was busy w/ grad stuffs, but here’s p2!! i’ve become unfortunately invested in this au and i’m tempted to write some more for it, if anyone is interested ^^

warnings for depictions of anxiety/depression/dissociation

—

The creature laying in front of Brooke is decidedly not Vanessa, and yet when she looks it in the eyes, she remembers stopping the girl outside the cafe.

She remembers the feral, panicked look in Vanessa’s eyes. It’s same thing she’s seeing right now but it makes no sense, nothing makes any sense. And, there’s blood on the doormat. Distantly, she thinks she’s going to need a new one.

The dog whines, and Brooke takes a shuddering breath as she tries to face the reality of the situation. Dog isn’t quite accurate, now that she really looks. It’s a handsome beast, lean and sleek and covered in thick, lustrous black fur. The midnight grays around the snout, and it- she- the wolf has the same golden brown eyes that Brooke has been crying for.

“Christ,” she chokes on her own voice, and when the wolf rises it takes every last drop of her willpower not to back away in fear.

The wolf whines again, high pitched and piercing, and presses itself against the door. Brooke doesn’t know she’s crying until the tears drip onto her legs. She just watched Vanessa die. She just watched Vanessa die, and now her corpse has risen as some creature of the night, like her life has turned into one of those cheesy horror movies she used to watch as a teenager.  

A laugh drips from her throat before she can stop it. The wolf whimpers, nosing the door knob. Brooke blinks out of her daze and tries not to think about how tall it is.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs into the quiet. She looks into its wild yellow eyes, and understands. “You have to leave.”

It breaks her and it breaks Vanessa.

The wolf cries low and long. Brooke rises on her shaking legs, opens the door, and lets Vanessa run off into the snowy void. The door seems to close on its own. Brooke replays every moment of the past few weeks in her head.

“I left without tellin’ her once.”

She feels sick to her stomach.

“And then, poof, you’re gone.”

She stumbles blindly to her room, phone in hand.

“You never even text.”

When A’keria picks up, she sounds like she’d just been asleep. “What’s the matter, girl?” she mumbles, sighing heavily.

Brooke buries her face in her hands, and sobs. “She’s gone.”

She spends a lot of time with A’keria, as the Winter marches on. They wait like attention starved puppies for Vanessa to come wandering back, and Brooke is hollow with the irony. A’keria watches holiday cartoons while mindlessly wrapping presents, and Brooke consumes every research paper regarding wolves that she can get her hands on.

They don’t really talk about it. Not after A’keria cries when Brooke admits Vanessa came to see her. Even if she could think of a way to explain it all, she doubts A’keria would believe her. So she holds it all in.

She spends Christmas Eve alone, and sets an empty plate on the other side of the table just to make herself feel better. Instead of sleeping, she listens to the night, hoping in vain.

At New Years, she gets more drunk than she’s ever been, and tries her first cigarette. Nina holds her hair back when she throws up, and Brooke says, “I love you, Vanessa,” without any shame as she’s lead down the hall towards a bed.

When January rolls into February, she’s drenched in the scent of tobacco. It’s the only time in her life she pays any attention to groundhog’s day, flicking through the various news feeds and livestreams, anxious for the verdict.

On Valentine’s day, she and A’keria are walking home from a trip to the library, and off in the treeline, Brooke sees her.

She takes off running even though A’keria is in the middle of a sentence. Even though she knows she’ll never catch up. Her bag full of books slams against her back, and she’s nearly tripping over herself, and none of it matters. A’keria calls after her, and it doesn’t matter. Her hat whips away into the wind, and it doesn’t matter. The tree branches cut her cheeks, and it doesn’t matter. She continues her chase, hyper focused, kicking up leaves and snow behind her.

It isn’t long before the uneven forest floor sends her crashing to the ground, but she catches a glimpse of a long black tail disappearing behind the pines.

Her phone blares in her pocket, and she vaguely registers A’keria calling her name in the distance. She doesn’t get up. She just sits, and lets the snow gather on her guilty shoulders. Movements languid, she lights a cigarette, and wonders if the scent of smoke will lure Vanessa back.

When the snow starts to melt, Brooke is starting to think she might die. Her body swims through the days on autopilot. Her mind sinks somewhere cold and blue. She’s empty yet full of longing, and whenever anyone asks, “I’m alright,” slips all too easily from her lips.

A’keria slings an arm around her shoulder, one morning, when they’re all out for coffee. “I know you’re worried,” she says, “but she’ll be back soon. She’ll be okay. She always is.”

Brooke isn’t sure whether A’keria is trying to convince her, or herself. Silky stands without a word, and goes to order coffee. Nina smiles, albeit shakily, and seconds the sentiment. She appreciates the thought, but she can’t believe it.

She can’t stop thinking about that night. She can’t get it out of her head. They can laugh like things are normal, and Brooke will be daydreaming about dribbling blood. They can talk like things are normal, and Brooke will be hearing the god awful screaming.

She drifts in the blue, teetering over a drop into the deep dark, where no creature resides. Where there is no golden sunlight to warm her. Where there is no Vanessa.

She starts taking a longer route home from work. It’s been raining for a few days now, and she revels in the rising temperature. She sings to the stars and ignores her phone as it buzzes in her bag, something she’s done quite often lately. She’s soaked down to her marrow, stepping in every puddle she sees, hoping one will open up to swallow her whole.

The first thing she notices when she opens the door, is the absence of her doormat. She never did replace it afterwards, she couldn’t bring herself to touch it. After kicking off her shoes, she shuffles into the living room. Her bag hits the floor, and stops her heart.

Vanessa stares back at her, half hidden in one of A’keria’s hoodies. “Brooke,” she whispers, throat rusty and raw, eyes unreadable. “You- You left your door unlocked.”

“You died,” Brooke answers back, sounding far away. She sways, body an unsteady sea, waves threatening to crash against the shore at any moment. “Y-You- I…”

Vanessa dashes to her side, leaping over the back of the couch like it’s nothing. She’s spry, glowing, and human, without a single scratch on her body. Vanessa touches her face, soft, but firm with purpose. “Hey, hey, relax sweetheart. I’m sorry.” The honey in her voice is pure heaven. Weight lifts from Brooke’s rain laden shoulders.

She grabs the girl’s hand, holding it against her cheek, head spinning. Vanessa’s fingers are warm against hers, sweet sunlight tempting her up from the depths.

“Stay with me, babe,” Vanessa calls to her, echoing through the blue. Brooke swims, reaching, crying, clinging to every word like it were driftwood. “I’m right here,” Vanessa shushes, “I’m right here.”

Somehow, that makes it worse.

Her legs crumble beneath her, but Vanessa keeps her steady, slowly lowering them both to the floor, gentle; as if Brooke might break.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs again, and Brooke realizes that she’s already fallen apart. “A’keria told me you weren’t doing so hot.”

Part of her is upset that Vanessa went to A’keria first, but she knows it’s only fair. “I missed you,” she blubbers, squeezing Vanessa’s hand. Her voice seems to tumble from her lips without a thought spared for the words. “You were gone, and I- I missed you so much.” She covers her face with her still wet sleeves, shivering, filled with sudden shame. “You died,” she repeats, and wonders if Vanessa will still be there when she opens her eyes. “I watched you.”

Her hands are softly pried away from her face, and when she looks, all Brooke sees is wonderful, golden brown. Vanessa threads their fingers together, voice calmer than Brooke has ever heard it. “I’m okay,” she presses her lips to Brooke’s knuckles, “I’m here in the flash. The flesh. Whichever.”

She lets out a watery laugh, surprising herself.

“There you go,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke has never really noticed how pointed her canines are. “Can’t make you laugh if I’m dead, can I?”

“No,” she whimpers before her mind can run away with the thought. Vanessa kisses her forehead, and she breaks surface, gasping down oxygen; staring right into the sun. Something inside her sings.

Vanessa smiles at her again, eyes welling. “There’s my girl,” she hums, and Brooke melts. Vanessa helps her up, an anchoring rock amidst the still unsettled waters. “C’mon,” she rasps, tugging Brooke down the hall in search of her room. “Let’s get you into something dry.”

Brooke merely follows, too drained to question it, too lovesick to mind. All she cares about is the warm hand laced with hers. She can feel months of missed affection in the simple touch, and it slows her whirlwind brain to a crawl.

Impossibly soft, Vanessa pulls Brooke’s soaked sweater over her head. Under normal circumstances, she would fret over showing her body, but even the slightest brushes of Vanessa’s skin against hers are like a drug. She squirms her way into a clean shirt, whining when Vanessa turns away to look for pajamas. Her eyes flutter shut when the girl’s hand strokes through the tangled blonde mess she’s been calling her hair. Sensation is slowly returning to her, and she relaxes under the touch.

Vanessa chuckles, though it’s not a happy sound. She’s only been at Brooke’s place the one time, but it had been near spotless. Now, however, empty ramen cups litter the kitchen counter, and her room is a disaster scene of clothes and books.

“Look what I did to you,” she breathes as Brooke absentmindedly pulls on a pair of shorts, too foggy and distracted to hear it. Once she’s dressed, Vanessa lays her down, taking a seat next to her and smoothing the hair out of her face.

Brooke blinks up at her sleepily. “I love you,” she yawns, grasping the end of Vanessa’s sweater, weak and lazy.

A smile. Her voice cracks. “I love you, too. Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Morning brings a headache, and fluffy, half-forgotten dreams. She’s dreamt about Vanessa more than once, so it doesn’t surprise her. She’s so caught up in her disappointment, in fact, that she doesn’t notice the missing mountain of clothes that should be next to her bedroom door.

She can hear the TV playing in the living room as she wanders through the hallway, figuring she must have left it on before going to bed the night before. Sighing at herself, she shuffles to go turn it off.

She’s passing the couch when the door opens, and in steps Vanessa, who lights up when she sees Brooke. “You’re awake,” she notes with a raise of her eyebrows, and whatever was going to come next gets buried in Brooke’s embrace.

“You owe me coffee.” She speaks hurriedly, rushing as if she only has a few more minutes with Vanessa before she disappears again. “Coffee, and a date, and- and-”

“Whoa, babe, slow down,” Vanessa mumbles, her familiar gravelling tone muffled in Brooke’s chest, but soothing nonetheless. “You’re forgetting to breathe.”

“Right,” she inhales, “sorry.” Her body screams for nicotine and she rushes over to her bag, pulling out a half full pack, turning to face Vanessa without looking at her. “Do you mind if-”

“Bitch, when did you start smoking?” Vanessa interrupts, incredulous. She gets this look in her eye that’s one part attractive, two parts worrying.

Brooke gives a half smile, slipping the pack into her pocket. “A’keria didn’t tell you about New Years?” she asks, voice small. Guilty. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to recount that herself. She barely remembers it as is.

Vanessa studies her for a long moment. Her expression calms into one of pain, and she sighs heavily. “Let’s go have a smoke, then. I need to talk to you.”

Fear pulls Brooke’s heart down to her stomach.

They sit together, shoulder to shoulder on her front step, cigarettes in hand. The sun blares above them; warm, bright, and different. Vanessa looks beautiful in the light, and Brooke watches her face more than her smoke when she starts to blow faded rings.

“What did you want to talk about, love?” Brooke tries not to let her anxiety take over her voice, taking a long drag to distract herself.

“Us,” Vanessa shrugs, eyes fixed on the concrete. “You.” She snuffs out her cigarette butt, and picks out another. Her words are stilted and spaced, a sign of nervousness that Brooke knows well.

“Us?” she echoes.

‘Us,’ is a very odd and unofficial situation. Brooke loves Vanessa, she knows that much at this point. And Vanessa reciprocates, to some extent at least. She’s said as much, shown as much, but right now the tone of her voice is making the phrase, “second thoughts,” spin around Brooke’s head at a dizzying speed.

“I’m no good for you,” Vanessa laughs, a bitter sound. “I didn’t even need to be physically present to fuck you up.” There’s a sharp edge in her voice, but somehow Brooke knows it’s not directed at her. Yet.

She swallows thickly, unsure of what to say or think. Vanessa continues.

“You shouldn’t be with me. I’m dangerous,” she growls on an exhale, “and I’ll always have to leave.”  Her voice is strained, and she refuses to meet Brooke’s gaze, lips twitching.

Brooke thinks. “Is that why you call it mysterious,” she asks, “The Vanjie charm?” It doesn’t seem as humorous anymore.

Still, Vanessa scoffs. She finally looks at Brooke, voice breaking. “You weren’t supposed to solve it.”

She’s crying now, and it fills Brooke with a twisted sort of confidence. “But I did,” she touches Vanessa’s face, stroking her thumb across the girl’s cheek. “I know what you are.”

Vanessa chokes like she’s heard it before, hurt written plainly on her face, a ticking counter hooked to a bomb. “What?” she whimpers, cigarette long forgotten. “What am I? A monster? You can say it.”

The edge presses against Brooke’s throat, and her mind swims with whispered jokes, gentle touches. Breaking bones. Sharp teeth.

She had led, when they danced that first night. Vanessa’s laughter was hidden under the pounding music, but Brooke could feel it as they pressed together.

She had made a point to sit next to Vanessa, whenever they all went out together. Sometimes, she even had the courage to put a hand on the girl’s leg as they talked, relishing even the momentary touches.

She had stayed up all night crying, when Vanessa left. She stayed up late for days on end, reading, watching documentaries, trying to fill a void. She became intimately familiar with wolves, aching for any sort of idea as to what she could do.

She had always loved those cheesy horror movies.

“You’re wonderful,” Brooke whispers, and no amount of blood can change it. She takes Vanessa’s face in both hands. “Strange, and wonderful, and I love you.”

Vanessa tries to bite back a sob, shaking her head. She looks small and scared, a frightened animal lost in the vast wild, claustrophobic despite the open space.

“I love you,” Brooke says again, even softer, if it’s possible. She knows she’s crying now, too, and “I missed you,” once again swells tight in her chest. Vanessa stares, lip quivering as she touches Brooke’s wrists.

“You’re an idiot,” she murmurs, a small smile lighting her face. “And I love you, too.”

They kiss under the morning sun, smiling.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #werewolf au #angst #razorback #sheep

[i-am-here-with-fanfic]

TOSHI X READER: The Perfect Model

A/N: Apparently I forgot how to title so here you go.

I AM ALSO SO SORRY TO POST SO LATE. @fandomhell97 had sent ne this request before ....March April? I know it was the 15th because that was my spring break but i didnt have time to write it and edit it in less than a week cuz training.

SO I GIVE YOU THIS TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU.

Edit: May 10, 2019 9:40PM: @starrylegend helped me a lot editing like 3.8/4 of the story!! Yay, belated credit 😰😅😅😅 *nervous laugh*

~

It was a strange thing, feeling so attached to your drawings. You always had a sense of pride and happiness from your years of practice, sketching whatever caught your eye around the world; however, you were most grateful for the fact that the perfect model came to you.

Toshinori Yagi.

With you two being partners sharing a household, there were many opportunities to sketch his gorgeous face, fluffy hair, and insecure body. After his final battle with All For One, though, Toshinori had fallen into a state of despair, and you remained by his side until he felt better; even if it meant you had to delay your sketching to tend to your boyfriend.

He was resting in bed, despite his complaints to do anything else but rest. Fortunately, you managed to convince him otherwise.

Laying beside Toshi, you held his head in your lap, caressing his face, trying to lull him to sleep. You were captivated by his looks; the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep; stress; and who knows what else. ... While still gently stroking along his jawline, you admired the sharp angles of his chin and the shadows that danced across beautiful cyan eyes, your boyfriend finally succumbing to the need to sleep.. You leaned forward to press your lips against his recently moisturized ones, but he woke up, surprised and adorably shy.

“W-why did you do that?” He asked, his cheeks turning a pale rose as he averted his eyes.

You smiled, holding him closer. “You tempted me with that gorgeous face,” you say before assaulting him with a shower of kisses, causing him to laugh softly and grin as he took every kiss to the depths of his soul, feeling a boost from your kindness.

He shifted around until he nuzzled into your abdomen, wrapping his good arm around you.

That image was burned into your mind and you thanked a force out there that you were capable of remembering it. When Toshinori was stubborn enough to go back to U.A., you only shook your head with a smile, reminding him to be careful and sending him off with a kiss.

With the image of your lover laughing etched into your mind, you decided to draw him while you still saw it clearly.

You first grabbed your blanket from your bedroom, with the scent of your boyfriend in it, it was the second thing that would remind you of the safety and warmth you felt while in his arms. Sketchbook and pencil in hand, you opened it up to an empty page, placing your earphones on as soft music played, calming yourself.

After a few hours, you really concentrating on capturing the details in your boyfriend’s fluffy, yellow hair, you didn’t notice the door opening and closing, signaling that your boyfriend was home. When Toshinori heard the scratch of pencil on paper, his first thought was of you sketching, something he had not seen you do in a while.

Leaning against the wall, he gazed at your form on the couch, your blanket loosely draped over your shoulders.. He smiled as he slowly approached you from behind the couch, resting his arms on it and pulling out an earphone, causing you to yelp from surprise and close your sketchbook out of habit. This earned a string of rapid apologies from your boyfriend as you turned, sitting with your knees on the couch to see him as a stuttering mess before reassuring him that it okay, pressing a few kisses against his lips in the process.

“Drawing a flower as usual?” he asked, smiling softly, cautiously placing his hand on your waist.

He so wanted to be the cheesy, romantic guy, but he just didn't know how your reaction would be. Usually when he does something romantic, in his experience, it would be awkward as hell.

“Yeah, it's a fluffy dandelion,” you answered with a smile that your boyfriend mirrored.

“You and your fluffy dandelions.” He kissed the tip of your nose, trying to be cute without feeling likes he's being weird.

“You hungry, babe?” You had asked, smiling warmly at his gentle expression.

“Well...a little,” he admits, lightly scratching his cheek with a shy smile. You got up from the couch to walk to the kitchen to prepare a meal for the two of you to share.

Toshinori was about to follow when he thought “What’s in the sketchbook?”

He flipped to the first page and noticed a building with flowers surrounding it, the flower shop.

He knew it was wrong, he just knew it was wrong. He was going to be frowned upon ag looking without permission, but he just couldn't help it. Curiousity got the best of him.

He opened the book carefully and He gently flipped through until he stopped at a page that was his face in profile. Then the next was All Might posing. For each page that he turned, his face turned into a different shade of pink from the embarrassment, why would you be so interested in drawing him. You were so precise in his facial features that in some doodles you drew him with wet hair covering his eyes and frowning, the next doodle was him with an exaggerated puffy hair that was still covering his eyes, still frowning. So you were amused with his hair...and you made him look like a cartoon character with the bad luck of a cat with water. If you’ve drawn him like this, you captured him with fascination. That was a lot for him, his cheeks getting warmer, but also with a cup of doubt. Did you love him as a model? Nothing else?

You did have talent, that’s for sure, but he did start to feel bad on top of the guilt and shame of going through your stuff.

He turned the next page, to see if you have drawn anymore, and to his surprise you did, the new drawing. You had drawn him sleeping and it was so realistic. He couldn’t help but feel the pride of your talent of drawing, so many feelings, it is overwhelming!

“Toshi?...” You call out, walking into the living room from the kitchen. You didn’t think he would fall asleep on the couch so went to check on him.

You went silent when you spotted your sketchbook in your boyfriend’s hands. What caught off guard was the fact that Toshinori was almost scared and shameful.

“I’m...sorry.” Toshinori whispers, his hand trembling a bit.

“It’s just...I know I shouldn’t have this but...but curiosity got the best of me I uhm...I like them very much…” He smiles softly at you, referring to the drawings.

You were quiet, progressing this scene. There's more he wants to say, and you want to speak so badly, but for some reason a force was forcing your lips shush for the moment.

Then he spoke once again, looking down at the drawings, “I'm just curious to know why you are drawing me when there's so much...you can draw other than me...like this flower shop, even this parakeet for that matter...you didn't have to fill up your precious sketchbook with...my uh puffy hair.” He states with uncertainty and self-insecurity.

Now without thinking you walked towards him, taking the book gently from his hands to place on the table as you place your gentle hands on his cheeks, cupping them, “Do not ever say that, because that is not true. I do draw everything I see that's beautiful and that also includes you dummy. I fill up my book with beautiful objects and people. The only person I see very beautiful and precious is you, Yagi. You make me happy and I just wanted to express it on paper. If I have to create a painting of your beautiful, adorable face on a big canvas I will.

Toshinori was left speechless and his words were all mixed up, not knowing how to even think of a response.

Would it be pitiness you express, or would it be a real, genuine statement you expressed?

You got closer to Toshinori, pressing your body against his, “You are very handsome, Toshinori Yagi. You lost all that self-confidence because you think of yourself as not, and now...now it’s a recorded soundtrack that is stuck on repeat…”

Toshinori couldn’t speak, the words he wanted to get out just couldn’t be heard. When you told him about his confidence, he couldn’t help but actually agree with you.

His silence was just adding onto the nonexistent tension, and you spoke again, “If I have to draw you in a bigger canvas to make my point loud and clear that you are my handsome man, then so be it I will do it. I will prove that my boyfriend, so strong and so sharp-and so fashionable might I add-is the most handsome guy I’ve ever dated in my life. You ruined the image of a man, because you left me obsessed with you.”

Toshinori felt your hands wrapped around his neck as you kissed him. He can’t help but believe you. You wouldn’t lie to him, you’re not the type of person.. However, they were right: he did believe himself to be not handsome, not even worthy of you. With the drawings she provided though, every sketch of his face, his hair, his body, she did not want to alternate anything, she saw who he was and drew what she saw. He even noticed the hearts drawn on the side, his favorite part of the whole drawings, the proof that she will always love him.

She started kissing his lips, his cheeks, tiptoeing to reach his forehead and he responded by tipping his head down, only to feel the warm lips pressed against his forehead.

“Thank you...thank you for such kindness.” He raised his head, smiling so warmly. You blushed softly as you hugged him, “I'm sorry for drawing you without consent, I promise to ask for you permission.”

Toshinori pulled away just the slightest, “There's no need to ask for permission. As the kids would say “You do you, boo”.”

You processed those words and even stifled a laugh, “The kids said that?”

Toshinori rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, “W-well, I do want to get closer to them, so I guess becoming a multilingual is my only option.” He chuckled softly.

You laughed, “ I swear, if you start saying ‘Yeet’ when you throw something, I'm going to start using the duct tape.” You teased and he laughed with you.

There was another drawing you would make after you two ate, Toshinori laughing.

#toshinori yagi #all might #bnha #bnha toshinori #mha toshinori #mha #mha fandom #bnha fanfiction #bnha manga #all might x reader #fanfiction #my hero academia #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #im desperate right now #this is what i get for shitposting #fuck my life with a cactus but put a condom on it please #i said please #what else do you have a kink for besides begging??

[jinkisbelly]

Hallelujah

Day 9 of my Jjongie fics!

My Masterlist    All Jjongsmonth The day I saw you for the first time, I probably used up all the luck in my life

But it’s worth it. You’re amazing, what to do with you? w/c :1.1k

Pairing: Jongyu

Jonghyun’s a journalist with really bad luck in everything except when it comes to his husband Jinki. 

He paused in his story when the shadow fell over him. When he looked up Jinki was slipping onto the top of his desk, legs swinging and his camera was held in his hands. He let it hang by the strap around his neck to reach over and gently touch the big black blotch stain on Jonghyun’s shirt. “Did another one bust?”

Jonghyun pouted deeply as he looked down at it. “And it was brand fucking new!”

“You have to have some of the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever known.” Jinki said with a little laugh, tapping the bottom of his chin. “But smile, because I got the photos you wanted.”

“I mean, I got you as a husband, so my luck can’t be that bad really.” Jonghyun was incredibly pleased with how cute Jinki was when he was shy. He tapped his thigh with a smile, “So photos huh?”

“Ye-yeah.” Jinki cleared his throat before popping out the SD card for Jonghyun to put into his computer. “I still need to touch it up a bit, but I didn’t know which ones you’d end up choosing.”

“Give me an hour to look at them?” Jonghyun softly asked. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his stomach. “I don’t know which ones go best with the piece.”

Jinki grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll just be taking a nap over at my desk.”

“It’s too far away.” Jonghyun quietly stated, fingers lifting to curl around Jinki’s jacket to keep him a breathes distance away. “Can’t you just be my new paper weight? Bad things don’t happen when you’re here.”

“I told you that’s just a coincidence.” Jinki chided, but he softened, hand cupping Jonghyun’s jaw. “You know the rules. To allow us to work together we have to be productive. You not finishing your piece by 8 is the exact opposite of the definition of productivity, and you won’t finish it if I’m sitting on your desk.”

Jonghyun glared, sticking his tongue out as he let go of his jacket. “I despise when you’re logical.”

One, quick kiss was pressed to his lips before he slipped off the desk and headed out of the glass lined cubicle. His desk was only just around the corner, pressed up against Jonghyun’s on the back side, but it was still too far because neither could see each other with the walls so high up. He tapped the keyboard rather aggressively and jumped a little when Jinki popped up above the barrier. He leaned his head on his arms and grinned. “You attacking your keys is making it harder for me to concentrate, sir.”

He stuck his tongue out with a small grunt, but he was smiling when he heard Jinki’s deep laughter as he returned to his seat on the other side. He focused on what pictures he wanted. He’d like to have the piece finished before 6 so he could take Jinki to dinner. They haven’t had that in a while and it’d be really nice to have quiet time together.

—-

After dropping off his piece to the editor he slipped into the bathroom to change his shirt. They had more than enough time to go to dinner and he really didn’t want a big ink stain on his chest when they went to eat. The old shirt was folded over his arm, but as he stepped out of the bathroom an intern carrying a cup holder full of iced coffees smacked straight into him, drenching the front of his nice light pink shirt with different shades of brown. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He groaned, stomping off in the direction of his desk.

Jinki was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the desk as he waited. He turned a little when he heard him but his smile fell when he noticed his wet, stained shirt and the expression of frustration painted on his face. “Oh Baby, what happened?”

“An intern and bad luck happened.” Jonghyun grumbled. When Jinki took his hand and tugged him over to sit on his lap, he softened. “This is my last extra shirt. I can’t go out in this Babe.”

“Lucky for you,” Jinki booped the tip of his nose with a smile, “I have my dress shirt from this morning in the back of my car. It’s all yours. I gotta take my pretty baby out tonight.”

“Really?” Jonghyun’s bottom lip was still jutted out, eyes downcast as he played with the zipper of Jinki’s leather jacket.

“Yeah.” Jinki dipped his head to kiss him sweetly. “Let’s go Baby.”

—-

Jonghyun slipped into his side of bed that night and wiggled over to lay on Jinki’s chest as the man read his book in the light of the bedside table lamp. “I think I used all my good luck in getting you.”

Jinki pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, closed his book and gazed at him with a little smile, “What?”

“I never was this clumsy or had bad things happen to before I met you.”

“Are you blaming me for all your stained shirts?” Jinki asked, a little laugh lining his voice.

“No,” Jonghyun softly whined. “The day I met you it was my off day. I wasn’t supposed to be in. But I woke up and thought I should go in today, something good is gonna happen today. And then I meet you, a photographer who’s new partner just happens to have the flu for the first time in the five years I’ve known her? There’s a coincidence and then there’s something fishy.”

“If you could go back and not use all your luck then, would you still want to?”

Jonghyun rolled onto his tummy, chin on the back of his hand as he gazed up at him. He could see the gold of his wedding ring glint a little as he placed his hand on Jinki’s chest. “I love having you. If it means I always get coffee spilled on me to have the love of my life, than so be.”

“If you’re right,” Jinki placed his book on the table before rolling them over, pressing a kiss to Jonghyun’s lips as he slid a thigh between his. “That just means I have to be near you at all times. You can share my luck Baby.”

“All the time?” Jonghyun parroted, eyes flicking up to meet Jinki’s from his lips.

“All the time.” Jinki whispered, hand cupping his jaw a moment before he was pressing closer. He curled their hands together and lifted them above Jonghyun’s head, only parting a little bit when they needed air.

#jongyu #onjong #jonghyun #shinee #jjongsmonth #onew #poor jjongie and his bad luck #but he got jinki so he's really not complaining #i'm now caught up! just have todays :d

[crayonwriting]

King

Summary: When all the world’s crashing down, who do you run to?

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Requested by: ANON—Do you think you think you can write something about Steve and reader are having a study date at his house and she just gets up and starts pacing around, frustratingly pulling at her hair and muttering to herself because she’s so stressed that there’s a possibility that she won’t graduate and her mom has been on her ass about it and she’s remembering a fight they had earlier that morning? maybe ending in a steamy little make-out session to help calm reader down? I desperately need this in my lif

Inspiration: King by Lauren Aquilina | I cannot emphasize how great this song is. It gives you this good melody to just bawl your eyes out to and at the same time, it helps make you stronger. I HIGHLY SUGGEST YOU LISTEN TO IT.

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I’m sorry if this took waaaaay too long. I really wanted to make this good. I sort of did a lot of research on how to write a really good make-out scene. (I even stared at some GIFs of people making-out, haha) I hope you’ll feel better after reading this. Or if you’re already better, I hope this one makes you feel great. I love you my little anon.  If you want to talk more, just message me. 

REQUEST/COMMENT/ASK

—

The room was silent; the flipping of pages and the scribbling of a pen on paper were the only sounds that could be heard. It was a Tuesday night and you and Steve were at his house for one of your study dates. Finals were about to start tomorrow and you were a nervous wreck.

You were failing some of your classes. You thought you were doing well but every time your quiz papers and tests came back, it never really met your expectations. Some of them you passed just by a point, the others you missed by several. You did your best, you really did. You needed a grade of at least the passing grade for all of your subjects for you to be able to graduate.

You’re alone, you’re on your own, so what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?

You stood up abruptly from your position on the couch. Steve looked up at you from where he was seated on the floor, books, and papers scattered about him. He raised an eyebrow at you but you ignored him. You avoided stepping on your notes and headed for the kitchen.

“Babe? Where are you going?” He shouted after you.

“Just gonna get something to drink.” You shouted back. You got a cup from one of the cabinets and poured yourself some water. You took a sip and tried to shake away the nerve-wracking feeling that was starting to creep up on you.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and took deep breaths. Your heart was starting to beat a little faster. You felt your hands shake and you held them both together trying your best to calm yourself down. Tears were pricking your eyes so, you shut them closed; doing your best not to cry.

“Y/N?” Steve questioned, putting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped slightly and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. Steve was shocked. “Hey babe, what’s wrong? Hey, hey. Tell me what happened?” You suddenly left out a sob and your tears suddenly ran down your cheeks. “Hey! Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head vigorously. “N-no, no…,” you choked out. “It’s j-just that I… you see there’s… I’m…” You tried your best to tell him but your tears got the best of you. Steve pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight. You gripped his shirt, crumpling it in your hands, holding him like your life depended on it—maybe it did.

“C’mon let’s sit you down.” He guided you slowly back to the living room and sat you both on the couch.

You don’t get what all this is about You’re too wrapped up in your self doubt You’ve got that young blood, set it free

You cried for a few moments, making yourself vulnerable to Steve. You let out all the frustrations and worries that you’re having, hoping to at least lessen the choking sensation in your chest. Steve rubbed his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. He kissed your forehead, holding you close. Your tears were staining his shirt but he didn’t care. He’d rather have a stained shirt than see you like this, broken.

“Y/N…,” he whispered. “Tell me what’s wrong…” His face was full of concern and his own heart we clenching so tight—he felt horrible for not knowing what to do at times like this.

You took a deep, shaky breath, wiping your jacket sleeve all over your face. When you were finally calm enough to talk, you bit your lip and started,

“I-I’m failing, Steve.” You sniffed. “I’m so stressed about everything that’s happening. I study hard, I do my best, hell, I don’t even sleep just to study for exams and what do I get in the end? Nothing! I fail; Every. Single. Time. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” A fresh batch of tears had started. Steve quickly wiped away your tears.

“C’mon Y/N… You’re not a failure.”

“But I am Steve!” You shouted. You finally like looked at him this time. You didn’t care that your hair was a mess, your face was red and blotchy, your eyes, red, and your nose, runny. You looked like shit in your opinion. But who cares. You feel like shit too.

“Even my own mother told me that I am! She saw all my papers this morning and she started to freak out. She kept babbling on and on. She’s been all up my ass since the start of senior year. She said that I was just wasting her money and that I was never doing my best.” You closed your eyes and huffed. “The things is I am doing my best but she doesn’t realize it. Nobody does. I think I won’t be graduating this year. Ugh, I just feel like shit, Steve.” You held your hands together in your lap, playing with your fingers. “And, I feel like I’m failing you too.” You whispered, almost inaudibly. “You should just leave me, you deser—“

Steve didn’t let you finish your sentence, as he cut you off with his lips.

There’s method in my madness There’s no logic in your sadness You don’t gain a single thing from misery Take it from me

“Don’t even go there, Y/N.” He said sternly. He pulled you to him again, placing his lips on yours. You let your tears fall. You pulled away, about to tell him again but he pulled you back kissing you deeper. His lips felt warm and wet against yours. He tilted his head to the side, moving his lips, trying to coax you to kiss him back.

“Let go, Y/N…” He whispered, lips still on yours. You couldn’t help it anymore.

You kissed him back slowly, making Steve let out a deep sigh. You felt him smile into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him. You held his face in your hand, tangling the other in his thick, dark, hair. A soft groan rumbled from Steve’s throat, passion growing even more.

He tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck to his waiting lips. He left open-mouth kisses down to your shoulders. You pulled slightly at his hair out of pleasure. A warmth started to settle in your stomach making you uneasy and yet you didn’t mind.

He eased you down slowly on the couch. He re-attached his lips back to yours. You kissed each other feverishly, pulling at each other, trying to be closer—if that were even still possible. Steve knew where this was going, but there was something you both had to talk about first.

He pulled away and stared down at you. Before he could speak, you kissed him again.

“Y-Y/N—,“ You kissed him again. “W-wait, sto—,“ You shut him up again, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Steve struggled to pull away. “Y/N stop!” He held your wrists above your head. You both were breathing heavily, lips were swollen from too much kissing. Tears were still flowing from your eyes.

“What Steve? Do you finally agree with me?” You whispered. He pushed your hair away from his face so that he could see your face better. He let go of your wrists, laying down beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist. He was looking at you, staring into your eyes as if reaching out to your soul.

You’ve got it all You lost your mind in the sound

“You’re not a failure, Y/N.” He muttered. “You never were. Don’t believe what your mom says. Don’t believe what anyone tells you.” You closed your eyes, not wanting to see his intense stare. “You’re a smart girl. You’re amazing, incredible and just...awesome!” He flashed you a smile, but you only pushed a hand to his face.

“Stop it, Steve. You know that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is!” He chuckled, snuggling closer to you. He slid a hand under your shirt, feeling your skin. You were nose-to-nose and both of you shared a delicate Eskimo kiss. “Look at me, Y/N. Please.” You slowly opened your eyes to stare back into his.

There’s so much more You can reclaim your crown

“Listen,” he started, “Everything may be a little crazy right now but everything will turn out okay. At least... that’s what I heard in a movie once.” You laughed at this, pinching his shoulder lightly. He kissed your lips softly before continuing, “Don’t let numbers define who you really are. You can always start over, Y/N.” 

You’re in control Rid of the monsters inside your head

He brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “Don’t think you’re failing me too. You’re the best girl any guy could have. I’m lucky that you chose me.” You smiled softly at this holding his cheek. He gently kissed the inside of your wrist, a ghost of a smile plastered on his face. “You’re the reason why I keep going. You’re the reason why I want to be a better person. You’re like half of my life, Y/N.”

“Stop it, you cheeseball. You’re making me blush.”

“That was the plan.” He chuckled. “Don’t stop what you’re doing babe. Just keep going. I don’t know if I’m even making sense right now, haha. But like I said, you’re smart. You get what I’m saying.” He inched closer to you. “And I swear that I’ll be with you through it all. A Steve Harrington promise.”

You smiled at the boy in front of you. Your heart felt proud to have him beside you and to support you. You kissed him slowly, pouring all the love you had for him.

You snuggled deeper into his arms and closed your eyes. You both fell asleep, review notes and books completely forgotten on the floor. You didn’t need to study anymore—you’ve been studying since last week! You had all the confidence you needed, right there, beside you. 

Put all your faults to bed You can be king again

—

Posted: January 15, 2018

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #b writes

[wordsetchedinherskin]

JD Fanfic Continued: Season9: Episode 1;Scenes 4-5

Scene 4

The next morning my brain wakes me up at a disrespectfully early hour. I find myself at the dining room table before the sun even rises. All of the contents of the box sprawled across it.

(Ugh, it's way too early for this. )

I take a long sip of my coffee and pick up one of the angel feathers off of the table. It's flawless crystal rivets shine brightly in the dimly lit room. The colors are a little different than mine. More red, less purple. I place it back down on the table next to two other identical feathers, and a small piece of tattered cloth.

( Sometimes you just need a tiny piece of cloth!)

I smile at the memory, my finger idly smoothing over the frayed edges. I'm just about to pull away when my finger catches on something. I carefully unfold the cloth to find a tiny piece of paper. Tarnished with age, I can barely make out the words. 'Call me where the Water meets the Earth.' I roll my eyes.

( Ok? Not helpful.)

I fold the cloth back up and place it back on the table before picking up the next mysterious object. A beautifully polished stone, mostly clear with what almost looks like ice growing in the center. Angel quartz is what Baphomet called it.

( Ok.. Obvious enough..)

Lastly my fingers fall upon a small lock of hair. It's as bright and radiant as a sunset, and even radiates it's own warmth. It's wrapped delicately with a red ribbon, and feels warmly familiar.

I sigh and make my way back into the kitchen to get more coffee. The sun is up now and I can hear a faint rustling of sheets coming from the other room. A blush spreads across my cheeks.

( They stir.)

"Nng!" The sound is abrupt and slices through the quiet morning air. "Why is there no beautiful Wife cuddling me?!" JD's voice is thick and heavy with sleep. I pour them a cup of coffee and make my way into the bedroom.

I can't help but laugh at their pathetic sight. Hair a mess, sheet lines all over their face, cute pouty lips, and a pillow placed over there eyes.

( Yeah.. probably should've closed those blackout curtains...)

"I'm sorry, O' light of my life, but we are the in the midst of summoning an Angel and need all the daylight we can get." I laugh as they draw themselves further into the blanket.

"Nng! No! Morning bad! Comfy bed with beautiful wife good!" By now they're so far into the blankets I can't even see them anymore. I smirk as a brilliant idea goes through my head. Before the thought even processes, my wings are in full form and I lift off. Taking the bundle of JD and blankets with me.

"W-woah! Ok! Th-theo! I'm up!" They squeak from inside their caccoon of blankets. "I promise, I'm up!"

I smile, proud of myself, and gently lower them back down on the bed. JD shakes off all of the blankets and stretches before narrowing their eyes at me.

"You know.. I think I may have rubbed off on you a little TOO much." Their frown and pouty lips make it impossible for me not to kiss them. So I do.

"Love you too, JD." I reply as I hand them their cup of coffee. Which they happily take before making their way into the living room. I motion for them to follow me over to the table. Unfolding the small piece of paper before them.

"Found this folded up inside our mysterious cloth.." I hand them the paper, and watch as their eyes turn sad.. almost longing.

"What's up, babe? Does this mean something to you?" I try to search their face as they place the paper down on the table, so gentle as to not break it.

"The words don't mean anything, but the handwriting is very familiar." Their eyes linger on the paper for a moment before locking onto mine. They shake their head, trying to clear it."I dunno, Theo, I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this."

I frown sympathetically. I know the idea of me summoning an Angel in their presence is terrifying. But we have to do this. Right?

(Right??)

"Well.. we're about to summon a literal Angel, JD. Of course you have a bad feeling about it." I give them a playful shove, hoping to break some of the tension in their face. They give me a sideways smile, and raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, come now, Mrs. Davies-Craine. I can think of at least one way I wouldn't mind having summoners privileges over an Angel" They give me a wink and the heat rises from my cheeks all the way to my neck.

( Okay. So not fair, Jordan. )

"Ah- Um- S-so.. anyways.." I do my best to change the subject before I set off our fire alarm. "W-what do you think this phrase means? Any idea?"

They chuckle to themselves, obviously proud that they can still fluster me in such a way. Their fingers fall back to the paper, eyes level with concentration.

"Well.. where the water meets the earth would normally mean the beach, buuut we live in middle America, sooo yeah." They pause for a minute, letting a wide smile reach their lips. "Oh! Of course... The lake! We can summon them at the lake!"

I run over and plant a deep, heated kiss on JD's lips. I can feel the smile as they kiss me back.

"You're brilliant. You know that, right?" I tell them. Their smile grows fond as they move a stray hair out of my face.

"Like I said, biased as fuck." They pick up their phone and start tapping away in a hurry. My phone buzzes a moment later with a group text.

[ 'Meet us @ the Lake. Its Angel time!']

['You better be wearing clothes this time, Jordan']

['That was ONE time!"]

I can't help but laugh as we gather everything back into the box, and head out to the truck.

( There really is nowhere else I'd rather live. )

Scene 5

By the time I make it out the door, I can tell JD's itching to take their bike out for the ride to the lake. They're leaned coolly up against the side of my truck, idly playing with their keys in their hand. They catch my eye and give me a wide grin.

"Hey babe! Feel like getting a little wind in your hair?" They twirl their keys around on their index fingers and smirk. I give them a little smile, already making my way over to the bike. The look of pure joy on their face as they run over to where I'm standing makes my heart flutter. They turn to face me, handing me a helmet.

"Oh, come on! Seriously? I am NOT wearing a helmet, Jordan! I'm a literal fucking Angel!" They pout exceedingly, giving me the most pathetic dose of puppy dog eyes ever.

"B-but.. I splurged and finally got you the one that says Maximum Stunts! See?!" I look down at the brand new helmet, no massive crack down the middle from that one time (or second time?) I almost died. The words Maximum Stunts is emblazoned upon the left side in bright gold script. JD looks so happy with themselves that I groan loudly and take the helmet.

"Ughhh... fiiiine. You owe me, though!" Even through the tinted glass I can see a side smirk spread across JD's lips.

"Ohh? Do I now?" The inflection in their tone immediately brings a rush of pink to my cheeks. "Well... I would looove to know what kind of payment you had in mind... and if it requires clothes." They give me one last look before settling down on the bike.

(Oh lord. I'm entirely too gay for this. )

I groan again before settling behind them. The feeling of their warm body against mine making my cheeks burn a little hotter. They laugh to themselves before taking us out onto the road.

By the time we get to the lake, Havenfall's Finest are all waiting for us. Razi and Mac are having an animated discussion about the difference between Werewolf packs and ancient Djinn families.

( Who cares who has a stronger hive mind?)

( They do. They care. )

Diego on the other hand is sitting quietly under a tree with Spike in his lap, reading through a book on unusual summoning. They all smile and wave as we pull up.

"Hey guys! Beautiful day for a rogue summoning that may get us all killed, huh?!" JD exclaims with a grin, only half joking. They all respond with nervous mumbling as we make our way over to the waters edge.

Diego gives Spike one last pet before standing and bringing over the book he's been reading. He points to a sigil in the middle of the last page.

"From what I can tell, this is the sigil most used to summon Angels." The sigil is fairly close to that of a pentagram, only with four points instead of five. "Most of this page is in Enochian though, so it's hard to be certain."

"Enochian? Like, the language of Angels??" Razi exclaims. He looks about as dumbfounded a the rest of us feel. Pretty much anything we've ever heard about Angels, other than what I personally know, has just been rumors.

"OK.. well, let's gather some sticks and build this bitch!" JD claps their hands together loudly and heads off towards the wooded area next to the lake. It doesn't take long before we've acquired all the sticks we need and are carefully building the sigil on the waters edge. JD then places down the the objects, one on each point. Diego hands me the carefully written out summoning spell, and steps back.

(Ok. Here goes... probably something terrible.)

I steady myself, reading the odd language over in my head until I'm sure I can say it without accidentally summoning some rogue Angel. I close my eyes and take the deepest breath of my life.

"Ge umd de g. Lrasd akrus skys. Ge aldon g! kures, torzu!" In an instant each line of the sigil starts to glow. Just like the first time I summoned JD, I cut off a lock of hair and drop it into the center of the now vibrating earth. I jump back as a massive beam of light bursts through the center of the circle. For a moment it's so bright that none of us can see.

"Holy shi-" Before JD can finish their sentence, strange bells start to ring out from the now billowing cloud of white smoke. The smell of fresh snow filling the air.

I take JD's hand trying to ground myself. Slowly but surely a figure starts to come into view. The first thing I notice is the beautiful waves of red/golden hair. They reach all the way down to the wet earth and shine brightly in the sun. When I'm finally able to make out their face, I catch citrine crystaline eyes locked into mine, and the warmest smile I've ever seen in my life. As soon as the woman finally comes into view, and I'm completely stunned into silence by her ethereal beauty. Her wings are bright, raining prisms of blue and red across our faces.

No one dares to move. But as her angel form starts to fade, JD's eyes go wide. I'm trying to read their face but it's filled with an emotion I've honestly never seen before. They take a step forward, swallowing hard.

The ethereal woman turns her eyes from mine to theirs, and her smile grows even warmer. She opens her arms and all I want to do is embrace her.

(Simmer down now, Theo.)

Her voice is smooth, like wind chimes on a warm summer's day, and suddenly I'm hit with a strange shot of deja'vu. Where have I heard that voice before?

"Hello, Jordan." The woman's eyes now bright with what can only be described as pride and admiration. Her smile fond, and wide. "It certainly is good to be looking into your beautiful face again."

I look over to JD and they look like they're about to faint. I grab their hand again trying to give them an anchor. They take a deep staggering breath.

"M-mom!?"

(Mom??)

TO BE CONTINUED

#lovestruck #havenfall is for lovers #fanfic #jordan davies #havenfall mc #havenfall jd

[limpblotter]

a/n: someone go request Johsnavi building an IKEA shelf to @midnigtartist so I can cry over this crossover ship (maybe one of 2 crossovers I actually really love). Also for my dear @lilldov; love what you love boo. Summary: Johsnavi gets a new shelf, Johan is not impressed. warning: implied ending ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) w/c:~1.4

“Its here.” Usnavi smiled opening the door, there was a large brown box about the same height as he was sitting there. He patted the Ikea box a few times before dragging it inside while Johan sat on the couch. “Babe!” He called out struggling with the heavy contents of the box. “Babe?” Usnavi called huffing and breaking a soft sweat. Johan didn’t answer; he was concentrating on his next big Etsy item. He was stringing hand blown glass beads through recycled wire and was going to sell them as part of an elaborate light fixture.

Aka, the house smelled like hot ass because Johan was using the stovetop to blow glass. Usnavi mumbled a soft ‘cono’ as he heaved the box inside. Which a lot of struggle and his already overly strained back aching he managed to get it in, and he wasn’t going to lie. It felt kind of good to get it in on his own, “Who needs a six foot boyfriend, cuando soy el machismo! (when I am the most macho!)” Even to that, Usnavi got no answer. Finally he walked over to Johan watching as he struggled to string a bead on to the wire several times before he grabbed his hands. “You’re helping me put together the cabinet, bello~”

Johan’s face turned into a pout. “You know I don’t support the mass production of wood products without sourcing where and how they got their lumber and materials. For all I know the Sweds are going to rainforests and outsourcing their products to countries where small children and women are paid half a cent in factories.”

A deadpanned silence formed between them as Usnavi’s brain worked for an answer that wasn’t just confused Spanish. “Well…Ikea shit is pretty crappy sometimes; I don’t even think its real wood. I think they just wet and mush up sawdust and make it into wood.”

Johan rubbed his chin for a second, “that is an alternative I can get behind I suppose.” Not really but Johan loved his man plus when Usnavi got handy that meant.

Usnavi chucked his hat off. Oh yes, Johan did like that.

Usnavi shrugged off his button up and was left in a white tank top. Large arms exposed as he hoisted his pants a little higher and started unboxing their new, soon to be bookshelf to hold all of Usnavi’s albums he inherited off Abuela that were collecting dust under the bed and all of Johan’s yoga and healthy living magazines.

While Johan enjoyed the view; Usnavi started meticulously setting the pieces that seemed to match in piles, the bags of screws and bolts together. He started to dig around for a bit then paused. “Johan mind pulling the rest of it out, I gotta find the screwdriver. From the looks of it we’re going to need one.”

While Usnavi went hunting for his tools, Johan started pulling out the pieces, he didn’t think to take the paper at the bottom of the box before folding the box up to be recycled later. When Usnavi returned with screwdriver in hand, Johan had to admit the small man looked exceedingly handsome with his tools of masculinity. “Alright, babe hand me the instructions.”

“Hm?” Johan muttered sitting crossed leggied on the floor. “Oh… I dunno I didn’t see it in the box.”

“Ok, where’s the box”

“I took it to the recycle” Johan beamed, having done a chore and correctly without being told. Surely Usnavi would praise him—

“…you…threw out the box and the instructions? CONO JOHAN HOW—“ He began to raise his voice and immediately Johan’s beaming smile melted into a somber frown, his eyes seemed to grow five times their usual shape. Usnavi was weak to that puppy dog pout, his angry insides unfurled and he slowly exhaled. “Its fine, I mean how hard could Ikea furniture be without…instructions…”

3 hours and Usnavi was beside himself. 

The pieces were all over the place, he broke 2 sweats in the process of trying to force to pieces together. Johan stayed out of his hair, once Usnavi was determined there wasn’t much for him to do other than pass him pieces and screws as he growled between Spanish curses. Finally when he had something that looked like a desk frame rather than a bookshelf, Usnavi had stopped for a second. “-N-Not bad…” He placed the screwdriver on the top of the ‘desk’ of a bookshelf they had going and watched as the compromising frame shook…then collapsed like a Jenga tower. “MALDITA SEA, CONASO!” He swore and kicked a piece out of frustration. His anger only spiked when he found he kicked a corner and felt the sharp pains shoot up his leg. “FFF—“ He clenched a fist and started to limp to the kitchen. He needed a drink, immediately.

Johan stared for a second and then calmly and silently crawled up to the pile of wood panels and lifted one up. He ran his hand up and down the smooth surface and nodded. He kept rubbing the wood for some time, Usnavi eventually after taking a few sips of Presidente beer caught him and was …slightly confused. “Did I just interrupt you having an affair with a shitty piece of wood?”

“Shh, I’m concentrating, feeling what this panel wants to be, where they want to go.” He hummed softly, closing his eyes as he got a little too sensual with the wood for Usnavi’s taste.

“Anja.” He blinked, “Look I’m thinking of just googling instructions. I’m giving myself a headache and…you’re freaking me out.” Usnavi sighed a bit defeated, time to search at the mercy of the internet and all of its answers. While Usnavi went to the bedroom, pulling up his old Dell laptop to his lap he wondered how long it would take Johan to stop being weird? He hoped it was before he got a splinter on his cheek.

A few minutes of typing and Johan leaned up against the door frame holding a couple of books. “Babe, do you want the books to be arranged in a certain order?”

Usnavi looked up from the laptop, “Um…what are you talking about?” He eyed Johan a bit.

“The books” he held up on of the albums. “This one is Nina’s do you want this next to the others or?”

“Where are you going to put them we need a bookshelf.”

“We have one, the Ikea one? Remember?”  Johan arched an eyebrow somewhat confused where this conversation was going.

“Yes, the one I’m trying to look for instructions but the damn name is in Swedish.” Usnavi made a hand motion towards his computer screen.

“Oh…well I got it more or less.” Johan shrugged then left to figure out the book arrangement on his own. Usnavi stared at the doorway for a good long second, the gears in his brain trying to process what exactly was being said right now. He got up, his mind and body moving through the haze of disbelief.

“Holy shit.” Usnavi blinked finding the nice, white bookshelf completely assembled. He walked over to it and gave it a shake feeling how sturdy it was. “Johan…you did this?”

The man nodded, having pulled his fro back into a bun with a screwdiver promptly sticking out of it to keep it from getting in the way. Johan did enjoy his pocketless, tight yoga pants too much to change into more build-suitable attire. “Yup, once I calmed down and tried to make sense of the pieces it all came together harmoniously.”

Usnavi felt a rush of emotion, mostly heat, flood his face. Johan…for all his puppy dog eyes and weird eccentrics he was a fairly capable man when Usnavi needed him the most. He was strong…dependable, all of his oddities were charming cherries on top of a very big catch on Usnavi’s part. “Heh…” He smirked. “So…you took out the recycle, you built a bookshelf and you’re arranging the books for me?” Usnavi counted off the tasks with his fingers. “Are you asking for a good time or are you just being a tease?”

“Hm?” Johan arched his brow unsure what he meant, “a good time, what do you mean…” he took notice Usnavi’s expression was half lidded, his smile coy. He knew exactly what that expression was. “Ah, well I also made the bed this morning.”

“Oh really~?”

“Yes, I can…show you how I made the bed.”

Johan abandoned his books and went in for a kiss, “thank you” Usnavi muttered between his lips.

#johsnavi #the soft boys #fic for friends #oneshot #drabble #johan johnson #crossover ship #I indulge the people I love the most <3 <3 <3 #unedited #and ues I know I don't have my accents; blame my american keyboard and my laziness

[monami-laurens-blog]

Sick and Scared - Lams

Author’s Note: Good evening mon ami!! This is an angsty fanfiction I may post again later tonight!! Don’t forget to send suggestions!! I’m happy to satisfy your needs <3

Word Count: 619

Warning: PSTD (a disorder characterized by failure to recover after experiencing or witnessing a terrifying event)

Prompt: “I won’t let you get hurt”

John was in the kitchen fixing up some soup for Alexander. He had a fever and John wasn't going to let him go to class when he could get others sick and get worse, so he sent an excuse note to their teachers and stayed home to take care of his boyfriend.

“Alex! Do you want your soup to have carrots in it?” John asked but there was no answer, “Babe?”

John stepped away from the kitchen and checked on Alex in their bedroom. Alex covered his face with the blanket trying to hide from John.

“I’m fine John...go finish making the soup…” Alex says not lifting the blanket.

“Alex-”

“I’m fine.” Alex says sternly, not letting John finish his statement.

John walks away, and continues the soup. Alex stays in bed and tries to fall asleep but instead finds himself in a different bed…

“Alex, wake up!”

Alex shifts in his bed from left to right ignoring the voice.

“ALEX!!”

He opens his eyes and sees his mom teary eyed and still in her pajamas.

“We need to go...now…” she says grabbing her son's arm and pulling him out of bed.

“Mom, can I get my backpack” he asks half asleep.

“Honey...o-okay hurry though we have to get out of here..”

Alex runs to his backpack and puts his favorite book in it along with some papers, pencils, and his favorite quill that his mom bought for him.

“Okay mommy let's g-”

Alexander’s mom grabs his arm running out the door. People were running the same direction screaming and crying. Families being split apart because some run faster than others.

“Mommy! Why is everyone crying??”

She ignores him, looking for a safe place to stay in.

“Mommy!?”

“Alexander, baby, we need to hide. There is a big storm and-”

A piece of wood flew off a building pushing his mom from his grip.

“MOMMY?!”

Alex runs to her, there is blood, way too much blood.

“Mommy wake up!! Mommy?!”

She opened her eyes and hugged her son and said, “Alex...run…”

A bolt of lightning struck, startling Alex making him cry. He tries to move his mom to a building but she's too heavy. So he stays with her, the lighting strikes again and he hugs her for comfort...but she doesn't hug back…

“ALEX!!” He heard a voice call out.

He ignored it, he needs to stay with his mom, he could lose her again.

“Alex?!” The voice calls again.

Alex hugs his mom, and everything starts fades away…

“Alex!!” A familiar voice called, “Baby! Are you okay?”

“I killed her…” he whispered, “if I would have just listened...I….”

Alex then felt arms grab him, “Shhh, you didn't kill your mom baby…”

“I-I did! She died right in front of me!! There was blood!! S-So much blood…”

Alex broke down crying into the stranger's chest. It was wet, was it from his tears? At this point Alex didn't care he just needed...something. The stranger ran their fingers through his hair humming.

“Why couldn't be me…”

The stranger looks down at Alex, “Don’t say that...she's glad you are here you don't want to make her sad do you?”

“N-No…” Alex whispered.

“Okay then…”

The stranger wiped Alex face and placed him down back on the bed.

“J-John...JOHN??? WHERE IS HE??” Alex cries, panicking again.

“Alex, baby, I’m right here! I helped you I was here the whole time! Just breathe…I won't let anyone or anything hurt you anymore okay…”

Alex sniffles and hugs his boyfriend, “Okay….”

John kisses Alex’s forehead and backs away. Alex then sees that John was wet.

“W-Was all that from me?”

“No, I finished your soup and was bringing it over here and I saw you shaking and you started to scream I dropped the soup on accident and it got all over me…”

Alex smiled warmly, “You really love me...huh?”

John kisses Alex, “More than anything on this earth…”

#no can tell me that john is not the boyfriend everyone wants #hamilton #monamilaurensfics #john laurens #alexander hamilton #lams #lams fic #lams fanfiction #angsty

[baekzhang]

distraction | osh [m]

oh sehun. reader-insert. 3,5k words. roommate!au. smut.

—sometimes you really need a distraction from college life, how lucky that sehun needs one, too

“Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later / Are you down to be a distraction, baby?” —Kehlani, Distraction

requested by @sassyunicorns2 for the drabble game (although this one turned out to become a scenario ;;; the song is great btw!)

“I’ll make it quick—” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, supporting your weight on Sehun’s shoulders, “Unconventional sex, no feelings, no obligations. Are you in or not?” you shoot the question quickly, gazing into his lecherously dark eyes. 

“Babe, you could put all sorts of conditions. Right now I need you to take off your clothes and that quickly,” he spoke in between his panting, running his hands up your back, over to your neck to pull you down for another kiss. 

When you started college everything was fine, you were somehow able to keep up with all your assignments, passed all exams and exceeded in them, too. You had to, you were in on a damn scholarship and intended to keep it, so that you could independently live your life without your parents’ constant nagging. A part time job was easily found, and when you moved out of college accommodation in your third semester to live with this guy from your microeconomics class, you felt things really started to go down. The assignments became more and more, your frustration with college added up by the day and for fuck’s sake, when was the last time you went out and had some fun? 

While your friends went out on parties, picked up guys and enjoyed some damn nice nights—from what you heard and seen videos of—you were in your apartment, writing down five thousand words for the essay due tomorrow, and by the time you finished, you weren’t in the mood to dress up and take a cab to the city centre. You could be drunk, get a hangover and miss class, or won’t be able to focus during class due to the very much occurring headache. So you stayed home, again, watching movies on the sofa that didn’t really interest you, but were better than nothing. You weren’t tired enough to sleep yet, you were just agitated that your professors felt the need to bomb you with too much homework for a human being.  

It was 11 p.m. when you heard the jingling of keys and the sound of the door cracking open. Sehun arrived, who else could it be. You turned your head and looked over your shoulder, and indeed it was him, wearing a white tee, which was maybe just a little bit too tight, but emphasised his abs rather well, so he was very much forgiven. He had that 24/7 look on his face, the one where he would pretty much look like nothing, and it was still tantalizing. Yeah, he was attractive and your friends called you “one lucky gal” for living with a hotshot like him, alone at that, too. But for you, he started out as the reliable guy from your class who paid the rent always in time and wouldn’t bother you all too much with loud music, and neither some gigolo friends, who would check you out. Nope, Oh Sehun was quite normal and mature in these parts. He had nice friends, sure some crazy, some with too much money, but still polite and offered you to join in their talking sessions on the sofa, or handed you a beer or two so you wouldn’t relying on coffee for your entire life. 

You had been living with him for over a semester now, it was the second term of your fourth semester and to be honest, nothing has happened between you and him, not that you were much into the idea. Of course, you had your few moments of care, but quite frankly, you had no time to bother getting a boyfriend, and he was with his friends most of the time, so he wasn’t really into the suggestion of getting a girlfriend either. At least you believed that from the various phone calls between him and his mother (well, his mother was the one to always call him), where his mother was asking whether or not he has a girl to bring home or not; and all the time he’d answer no and if he had one he’d be the first to inform her. So that sealed the deal for you. 

However, during the last few weeks of being close to shredding all you papers, you’d noticed that you were staring at him for longer than the usual and that his hair really seemed to be nice to touch. Yeah, he was most likely asked for his number often and offered a quick thing every now and then, and who knows, maybe he agrees to them. But fact was, he was a distraction to your microcosm of studying for tests—his voice, his round and smack-able ass, and his wet hair when he comes out of the shower, and sometimes he doesn’t even wear a shirt and you could be drawn to watching the little water drops flow down his abdominal; and holy damn, he really was something.   

That he could just quit college and finance the snob living with his looks only was the understatement of the century, he was most likely already offered modeling contracts and could be at fashion week as the highlight ever since he hit puberty. And it pissed you off that he was of that calibre. When you thought you looked remotely pretty, you were always hit in the face when you took a pic with Sehun because everything and everyone looked way worse next to him. But oh well, he was too nice to be hated, and too good looking to be despised. 

“How was it at Kyungsoo’s?” you shot the question, darting your eyes back to the screen, although you’ve already forgotten what the movie was called and what it was about. Something about aliens? You thought?

“Meh,” he replied, kicking his shoes off his feet and throwing his leather jacket over the chair next to the door. You had put it there because the day either you or him would actually make an effort to make use of the hallstand shall be your very last. “It was okay, I mean it was just some guys’ night, so not all too special. Played some video games, drank some beer. Chanyeol got drunk after the second beer again. Tall but no tolerance at all,” he finished whilst walking to the kitchen counter and pouring him a glass of water. 

“What about you? Finished your two essays?” 

“Two essays?” you questioned, you only did one and remembered one, so you worried a little bit.

“Mm, the one for microeconomics and some shit about business administration professor Baek gave us last minute because she can’t get shit done. Did that yesterday with the guys because you know how much she hates us.” Your head dropped almost into your lap: fuck, you totally forgot about that. 

“Ugh, I only finished the one for microeconomics,” you groaned. Sehun chuckled.

“Should I make you some coffee then,” you hear him say and you gaze over to him, standing next to the coffee machine, his hand on his hips and something in between a smile and a smirk on his lips. You just nod and he immediately turns to the cupboard, stretching out his arm to get the coffee and his shirt gets lifted up in the movement and you get a good view on his skin, tanned, trained and totally intriguing.

“Thanks,” you breathed and forced yourself to not stare at him further. To prevent yourself from having a watered mouth, you quickly went to your room, grabbed your laptop and a couple of books and returned to the living room, where Sehun was pouring the coffee into a mug, as well as a good shot of milk and one cube of sugar—he’d been brewing the coffee for you for a long time now, he wouldn’t need to ask you about it anymore.

You opened Microsoft Office, put some random title and started typing up some half-assed introductory part whilst Sehun sat down next to you on the couch and placed the coffee atop of the table right next to your books and watched the movie you had been watching previously. His legs are crossed over each other and his arm is resting on the backrest with his hand being quite close to the back of your head, not that you’d have minded it usually, but right now—when your head wouldn’t focus on your work, but rather on how it would sound like when you smacked Sehun’s ass—it was among the lines of dangerous. 

“Is the movie good?” you questioned, selecting a word and putting it in italics. Sehun hums in response, “Yeah, I mean, didn’t you watch it before me, though?” With a shrug you just hummed back and catch Sehun looking over to your screen, probably reading what you’ve finished so far. 

“If you want to,” he proposes, moving a tad bit closer to you, so that his face is probably by now capable of feeling the heat that radiates from your body, “I can help you with this.” His eyes skim the content and you fall back into the sofa as to give him a better view on the laptop. You rest your chin in your palm, peering at that very much irrelevant painting on the wall to look everywhere but him. His scent, that godforsaken after shave that always stimulates and thrills your nostrils, hit you and intoxicated you in addition. 

The sound of typing and clicking catches your ears, and you turn slightly to see him editing your essay, adding here and there a few parts and continuing onto the next paragraph. His back is bent over, his dark eyes reflect the light of the screen and his right hand occasionally wanders to the touch pad; he’s focused, unlike you. You are drawn to how engaged he is, and when his tongue brushes over his upper lip you inhale sharply to which he glimpses over to you, but you don’t react much. 

“You know, ___, I don’t want you to stay up the entire night for this bullshit, so I’ll just write some outline and you can edit it during your first class or something,” he states and you nod, smiling a tiny smile at him. It was a natural reaction, not thought-through and covering up the need, not really a specific one for him, but just general one, and he fitted that register way too good on that one. Fuck, he was just too nice and too attractive; too considered and too tempting in low hanging sweat pants plus white t-shirt. Screw him, you thought to yourself, and damn, you wanted to even though the statement wasn’t meant in that way (at least not mainly).

“How nice of you,” you spoke that more seductively than you wanted it to be, and Sehun locks eyes with yours for a second; he runs one finger along his cheek, shoots you an entertained look and turns back to the laptop. 

For a few minutes filled with the sound of the movie as well as the typing, you were doing nothing more than stare at his fingers, maybe sometimes you’d read over the sentences about business administration, but mainly his fingers; and you’d space out. Those damn long fingers, perfectly manicured with not too long and neither too short nails; you were never one to fantasize so lewdly about something as trivial as fingers, but for Christ’s sake, you really wanted to suck on that nice index finger, probably tasting the plastic of your own laptop’s keyboard from it, but who even cares. His fingers would do such a good job on pretty much everything, fuck you were really thinking that. And when his hand suddenly wasn’t on the keyboard anymore, but running through his hair, you must admit, you blew a fuss—your heart started beating faster, you blended out the sound of the movie and any sense for sanity was discarded. When he began typing again, you shifted over to him, bent over and clapped the laptop slowly down on him, causing his hands to leave the keyboard and stare at you, who was gazing into his eyes while on all four. 

Sehun shot you a questioning, but yet knowing gaze and leaned back in the other direction, having you follow him with you pressing forward to him and locking lips with him, falling into a kiss that got you atop of him, arms around his shoulders, and you felt him breathing—his abdomen lifting and falling back—with your hips. 

The kiss was rough, uncontrolled and demanding; your lips basically rubbed against his moving one, and midway you felt his hands—those fucked up hands—run along your sides, trying to feel through the fabric of your shirt. And fuck, his touch was the biggest turn on. 

“I’ll make it quick—” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, supporting your weight on Sehun’s shoulders, “Unconventional sex, no feelings, no obligations. Are you in or not?” you shoot the question quickly, gazing into his lecherously dark eyes.

“Babe, you could put all sorts of conditions. Right now I need you to take off your clothes and that quickly,” he spoke in between his panting, running his hands up your back, over to your neck to pull you down for another kiss. You squirm and fall completely onto him, biting down on his lip and him granting you the access you’ve been requesting for way too long, and you took no time to browse through his cavern, licking along his own tongue brushing over his teeth, tasting the beer he admitted to have previously been drinking at Kyungsoo’s. 

You felt him moan into the kiss and his length was beginning to press against your pelvis, arousing you more. With one last lick over his lip you lifted yourself up again, your one knee being between his legs, while the other one was next to his left, pressing into the backrest of the sofa. Your teeth were brushing over your bottom lip and you smirked at him with a cocked head. He looked so vulnerable, so needy and willing to do anything to get what he wants; and damn, you were going to make use of that spirit. 

“Remove your shirt,” you postulated, and he inhaled quickly, gazing at you and his hands wandered to his shoulders, pulling off the tee from his body and tossing it in whatever direction suitable for him. Indeed, you could confirm that his abdominals were defined and with a smile you lowered your posture and ran your index finger along the lines, until your face was right on them, your breath hitting his skin and you began brushing your tongue against it in between your quick kisses.

You crawled forward with your lips reaching his collarbone; his cock was pressing against your belly and you began biting down on his skin, drawing some blood and licking it off with delight as he moans a symphony. And you wander over to his neck, doing the same over and over again; your hand in his hair, and yes, his hair is soft and feels great running between your fingers. 

Sehun’s hands feel you up and go under your shirt in the motion, but you stop and grasp his wrists, pushing his arms away.

“Nonono,” you whisper and lean closer to his ear, “we’ll get to that soon enough, Sehun,” you continue and nibble on his ear, making him close his eyes in pleasure. “Will you do me a favour?” you inquire and he hums, breathing through your hair which has landed in his face; you smirk against his ear to his response. 

“Touch yourself for me,” you finish and his eyes shoot open, you can feel his face heat up and you retreat from his form and swing away from him, sitting down on the end of the sofa and your eyes follow the movements of his right arm and hand as he finds his pants and pushes them down along with his boxers. His length claps against his stomach and you find the altruism somewhere deep inside you and help him fully pull down his sweat pants and toss them over the tv, whose light has been interfering with your demands. 

His hand feels his shaft and your eyes, cat-like and mischievously entertained, spectate him starting to jerk off; his hand rubs along his length in a slowly accelerating and adding up speed, making pre-cum flow from his tip, which has turned into a throbbing red. Sehun’s expression is concentrated, driven and lustful; and you were a liar to have denied that his groans weren’t the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and could have been straight from a luxury porn movie. 

“Good boy,” you speak up lowly and crawl near him again, your hand palming his own and adding up more speed and more pressure onto the movements; he sighs, eyes closing and he lets his head fall deeper in the sofa as you suddenly kiss his tip and make no efforts in hiding the sound of licking off your lips, where his cum lies on. Your mouth connects with his cock again, taking it fully into you and you guide his now jobless hands over to your hair, which he pulls occasionally as you suck harder on his length with your teeth scrubbing the prominent vein you’ve spotted and awed when he first exposed his dick to you. He was moaning so loud, whimpering your name; and you could feel him grow more and more inside you, getting more sensitive and the salty taste has entered your mouth—he was about to cum, and you had no intention of swallowing. Instead, when he started to cry out your name, you pulled away and watched the white string hit his stomach and flow down his cock. Sehun was panting heavily and you started running your fingers along his length again, collecting his cum and placing it on the top of your tongue, tasting him again. He was looking at you, sucking on your own finger so seductively and you enjoyed it.

“You taste great, try it yourself,” it wasn’t an offer, he knew, and you, too. His left hand went up to his belly and his finger—that damn long finger—shoveled some of it on it and put it in his mouth, tasting himself for the fucking first time of his life. And the way he was sucking on his index finger drove you to insanity; you licked along his abs, cleaning up slowly and smoothly, until you’ve had enough him swallowing his own finger. So you took his hand away from his and into your face, your mouth opening to envelope the sucked-up finger and you hum as you begin licking around it. The mixed taste of his cum and spit was thrilling, and you’d decided to give in to him and give him what he wants so bad. 

With a final lick on your lips, you began pulling your t-shirt over your neck and cleaned the rest of Sehun up with it before you discarded it, and he gazed at your black bra, whose view got him to lick his lips in lust yet again. You unclasped your bra and moved your shoulders so it would slowly slide down your body; your nipples were revealed to be tensed, hard and your boobs hopped slightly from the lack of support now. 

You stood up, wobbling on the unsteady ground of the sofa and agonizingly calmly pulled down your pants and underwear, stepping out of it and kicking it away. 

“What do you want me to do, Sehun? I grant you one wish,” you announced and looked at his naked self, his hand meeting his cock again from your sudden declaration. He wanted many things, choosing one was hard; at least he thought that. But only a second later he had already pronounced it: “Ride me.” And you didn’t hesitate at all as you approached him and knelt down, your hand guiding his length to your aroused entry. Fuck, you thought as you bit onto your lip, he was truly filling you up, and it was the best feeling. 

You began moving up and down, sighing in content whenever you sank down on him, and Sehun was holding onto your sides, supporting you to lift you up. Picking up your pace, you noticed yourself moaning, your wetness sticking to him by now, and your arousal was growing. Sehun’s hands were wandering down your pelvic, and he was brushing against your filled entranced, slipping in his thumb almost magically and he’d gotten you to scream in pleasure as he pressed down and circled your clit, making you exclaim his name; and then you came full on his cock with your juices running down his cock, your walls clenched around him. Sehun didn’t have it yet though, but he groaned and thrusted into you slightly, causing you to whimper as you were riding out your high. He kept lifting you up and letting you fall down, making his cock grow and intensifying the throbbing until he, too, came, the back of his head snapping back and so deep into the sofa he himself couldn’t believe it. He came right into you, and you could feel his warm cum not lasting inside you, but rather it rand down the insides of your thighs. 

You fell atop of Sehun, taking in his sweaty scent and kissed his nipple lifting and freeing yourself from his cock, and then you just laid down on him exhausted.

As you were feeling his arms up and down, played with his jaw and listened to his breathing, however, you realized that it was already 2 a.m., and the picture of your laptop flashed before your eyes.

“Hey, you’re still up to help me with my paper?” you questioned and Sehun just chuckled.

#sehun scenario #sehun smut #sehun fluff #sehun angst #sehun fic #oh sehun #sehun imagine #exo reactions #exo smut #exo fluff #exo scenarios #exo writing #exo sehun #kpop writings #sehun fanfic #drabble game

[mechagalaxy]

John T Mainer 28840: Meat Shields

Meat Shields

The war was not going well. Rockets Raccoons were up against the Mullah's of Mayhem, a threepeat gold clan in the division the Raccoons had found themselves advancing into as the fresh meat. Out of the gate the Mullah's of Mayhem issued a fatwa calling Racoons trespassers in Division X and an abomination in the sight of the Craftsmen. They were ordered to burn their own mecha, or burn in them. The Racoons washed down a plate of bacon with a fifth of bourbon and told the Mullah's of Mayhem where they could insert their gold medals, and offered a boot to pound it home. They expected to have some time to scout before things got hot, that is the way things worked in Division W. Turns out Division X is more intense.

The second the clock struck O murder hundred, the Mullah's struck. Rolling out of the darkness in a tide of niode powered intolerance, they cut through Rockets Raccoons like a Galaxy Eye through an open cockpit. Two of the Raccoons were in specialist lineups to go hit the Mullah's scouts, just a few minutes from ready to hit the badlands to go hunting, but caught in tens and twenties when the Mullah's Kami, Notas, and Charon tore through, freezing, burning and stomping everything in their path.

My job is usually pretty chill. I pilot a third rank Magnus in Chubby's Cherubs. Me (Grinner) and Sweet Meat Stevenson act as flankers for Isabella in her Regis. We have a bit of niode gear here and there, but our guns are pure crystal. Best guns forward is the Raccoon creed, but each of our lines is designed to fight as a line. Me and Sweet Meat have pretty decent freeze, good trample, hit hard with missiles or cannon. Sweet meat has a lot of forking missiles, nothing super hot, but it spreads the love around. I pack a mix of good crystal cannons and OK crystal cannons. We keep being promised upgrades as soon as we score some loot, but every time I get a good one, I get a new weapon slot, so retiring my third rate guns keeps getting put off.

Isabella though, her Regis "Body-Count" is a real killer. I mean, sure her guns do less damage than mine on paper, but her lizard is a real laserbrain, and gets almost as much extra out of them as a Red Ant would, and packs about three times as many. It also loves to kill. I mean its not the fastest beast out there, but it loves to get the pure kill shot, often passing up an opening to wound to wait for the clean kill. Grinner and Sweet Meat our Magnus are sluggers, but Body Count is a pure killer, so is Isabella. We make a good team. Or we did until the Mullah's of Mayhem hit us. Isabella was shut down by trample before we even knew the second rank was under fire. I had my Lightning Shield on, so I lived, but I got frozen by the forking hit on Meat Shiled and never got my guns to lock on before both my legs got taken out by some kind of advanced plasma weapon I have never seen before. Some kind of Vortex crap that I will be having wet dreams about owning probably forever after seeing it burn through my Magnus legs like hot coffee through a sugar cube.

Sweet Meat got off three shots before he fell. One miss, two clean hits, one forking, and the Mullah Notas and Charon didn't even notice. The hits exploded all over the shields in their niode perfection and didn't even break their concentration. No weapon we had could touch them. They were just outclassing our crystal machines, too fast, too many guns, and shields we could not even scratch. There was literally no point in my Grinner and Sweet Meat firing at all.

As we were getting anti-radiation chelation therapy at the aid station, I made the mistake of bitching to Isabella about how useless we were against those bastards.

"We can't beat their shields, what is the point of even trying?" I complained.

Isabella slapped me so hard my head just about hit my shoulder it snapped so far around. She was furious. All five two of her. She should have looked ridiculous, little her tearing both my own six two, two forty, and Sweat Meats six even three fifty a new exhaust port, but all she looked was fierce and intimidating, because she was not intimidated. Her response was pure Isabella, as irrational as it was inspirational. She had a point.

"Sheilds? You are worried about their shields? I will teach them to fear MINE!" Isabella shouted.

Sweet Meat kneaded his temples, the big Chinese pilot looked like a defeated Buddha, and his words were filled with dump shock and despair.

"I know you have some good fire shields, but honestly each of us has one niode shield, but the rest of yours are nothing to write home about, I mean my own Magnus probably has better shields than you when you crunch the numbers" Sweet meat was a bit of an analyst, as well as manic depressive, magnus pilot, and avid gardener. What can I say, a weird dude.

Isabella gripped both of us by the back of the neck and pulled our heads together against hers in a fierce hug. She continued her rant low and intense, practically the same height standing as we were sitting getting our blood cleaned of the radiation from our engine breaches.

"No you morons, not my mecha shields, my meat shields. You two losers are going to keep me alive long enough to EAT THEIR SOULS!" She was scary intense sometimes, but there was a reason she anchored the third line, if we were needed, it was bad, and when it got bad, you needed somethign scarier on your side. We had Isabella. She kept on, finally getting through to us. "OK, so they are faster, stronger, tougher than we are. So what? I will swap out my niode shields with you guys for anything you have against trample and fork. I am maxed out to do two things, strike first, and kill things. You losers only have to stand upright, look, big stupid and ugly, to keep their attention while I tear their hearts out. It almost like you are over qualified!"

Sweet Meat and I started to laugh. What could you do? The Mullah's of Mayhem had read from their Scrolls of Holy Ass Whooping, so now maybe it was time to read them a passage from The Book of Payback. Payback is a bitch they say, and her name is Isabella.

This time we were the ones attacking. Not the brightest idea in the world, but Raccoons are curious critters by nature, and there was loot to the victors, if you had the nerve to dig for it. Nerve we had, so dig we didl.

Our front line can match anyone out there. The boss is a badass. We always wondered why he stayed with us when the big outfits kept offering a place in their own ranks. He laughed it off. He got through the first two of their ranks before they got him. With the front rank gone, that was 70% of our niode weapons, all our niode BFM, the next rank was niode heavies, but the gear was mixed, the weapons were mostly crystal. They were pretty chewed before they stepped to the line, and only got one kill before they got eaten alive. A smart man would have made a career change at that point, but I stopped thinking when Isabella screamed.

"EAT THEIR SOULS!" She screamed as her Regis roared and charged forward.

I opened up my own engine amplifiers wide, Race Engines spooling up pure power for my engines and guns, Lantern engines howling power into my limbs and overcharging my capacitors (also making me a huge target for any wandering missile, but life is like that). We charged at her side, two gun metal grey Ogers flanking a hunting dragon. We got hammered. Something called a Rift Beam hit Bubba on the left wing square, and the Xango that fired it milked every erg out of it. Damned thing had so much power that after blowing him right the heck up, it tracked right to take me where I was shielding Isabella's flank.

Alarms went off everywhere, my gun capacitors overloaded and exploded. I had NO GUNS. I had no sensors operating beyond peeking out the cockpit and seeing bad guys that a way. I was able to move because I needed no external data to do that, but was helpless as a newborn babe. Helpless, not useless.

Isabella cut loose with a Galaxy Eye and caught a Kami that had just ignited Sweet Meat's Magnus. Her beam was a pale thing against the bright fury of the flashing niode powered laser shields that fed that monster, and even healed it as they did so. On its own, the Galaxy Eye lacked the power to even warm the Kami's paint. Isabella on the other hand was a matadora. In her hand a slender blade that you could stop with a thick button could slide into and out of the heart of a charging rhino before it even realized it was dead. That Galaxy Eye flowed through an eddy where shield emitter zones interfered with each other, splashed against a plasma charging chamber feeding the Kami's own guns and caused a dissonance in their own shielding. The plasma to punch through shields, armour, and still have enough power to devour two mecha at a time was released INSIDE the Kami, and it died in a shattering explosion.

Isabella and Body Count screamed their joy to the world, and we, her meat shields, howled with her.

The Xango pilot was a veteran, and spotted the threat, swinging his Planetary Defense laser to take her under fire. It could punch through her laser shields and blow her reactor core through the rank behind her. It could not punch through her meat shields and do it. I stepped my tottering and shut down Magnus into the path, and snapped my arm cannon mounts up to bring his cockpit into line with their gaping muzzles. Reflex triggered his burst before thought could interfere. His coherent light death beam wasted itself in incoherent frustration as it screamed through my already shut down mecha. Sure, it gutted me and shut down the Yallan to my rear (poor tyke looked like it was about to trip and fall on my exploding ass too), but Isabella's splash shiled shrugged off the hit like rain on a dragons arse as she triggered a Vulcan Phaser. The Xango did not live long and prosper.

The Charon did not take that well and closed with its great claws to tear Isabella in half. His Leviathan punched with killing force, but Sweet Meat took it on the chest plate. Freeze fractures shattered his chest and took his right arm when he tried to take a step forward. The Charon's claws were deep inside Sweet Meat, ripping his torso off his legs when the Flavian Spear took him in the armpit. Nanobots contained in the great tanks flash activated from the laser energy bleed and instantly absolute zero was achieved in the crystal metal matrix of the bones of the mecha. DIfferential cooling of the couplings caused the unstoppable power of the Charon to be, well, unstoppered. Charon got to ride his own ferry across the Styx as Isabella gave him a taste of what he fed Sweet Meat.

The Apatotron that remained in the line cut loose with a Heartbreaker missile swarm, and without us to shield her, what little armour remained on her Regis failed under the 75mm armour piercing warheads coming in two converging swarms to overwhelm her point defense lasers and ECM lures of her missile shields. She fell, but not before gutting that line. The fourth line buried the Apatotron in fire, as it spent its last rockets on a Yallan that was already shut down anyway. Our boys carried the fight. It wasn't pretty or cheap, but it was a win.

We pulled Isabella from Body Count, what was left of her noble Regis. She was bleeding and laughing (she was that kind of girl) and hugged us as we slapped trauma patches on the bits that were spurting not dripping. She was almost shouting before the trauma patches drugs took her into unconciousness.

"Meat shields over niode shields boys! Those bastards got Raccooned! We got it done"

Sweet meat listened to her rambling as she drifted into unconciousness. He was grinning his soft Buddha grin. He looked at me and said what we both were thinking.

"She's crazy as a bed bug. She's right too,, but crazier than a pet raccoon" He held up his fist to me.

"Meat shield!" He said.

I banged my fist into his

"Meat shield!" I swore.

Welcome to Mecha Galaxy. Prepare to be Raccooned.

John T Mainer 28840

[artificialqueens]

and i want you (kameron/aquaria/blair) - chapter 2 - sheep

an: aah thank u guys so so much for the positive comments so far!! i tried rly hard to make this chapter fluffy but it’s not my strong suit so i hope i did okay ^^

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Blair doesn’t know why she tortures herself with cold coffee in the wintertime. Maybe she’s a caffeine addict, maybe she’s a masochist, but she’s grateful regardless when her favorite barista lays a whipped cream loaded iced cappuccino next to her mountain of homework.

“Thank you, Kal,” she calls after the girl, shuffling her papers so she doesn’t spill anything on them. She’s already handed in one coffee stained history essay, she doesn’t need any more.

Next to the messily written, barely finished essay lies a literal stack of chemistry work. Beside it, a math review booklet. She’s half hidden behind all the respective notebooks and binders, tucked in the corner of the small cafe, fingernails a translucent blue with chill. Her natural habitat: camouflaged, studying. She gulps down two thirds of the coffee without really looking, shivers, and continues to write.

The days have only gotten colder, midterms are slowly getting closer, and Blair’s workload hasn’t gotten any lighter. She thanks whatever entity is watching over her that she only has three exams this year. Between gruelling evening fast-food shifts, and struggling to keep her grades afloat, Blair is exhausted. Each day is a blur and fog of homework and “How may I help you this evening?” Lonely is the only emotion she’s been able to register for a long time now, and it’s starting to feel like she’s hollowed out. Just a thin, hollow thing that could snap with the slightest touch.

Homework doesn’t seem to matter anymore. She’s bleary, lethargic, and the warmth of the cafe is finally starting to seep into her small, cold frame. She pushes her coffee away, and sighs, leaning back against the wall. She rests her head in her hand, and suddenly keeping her eyes open feels like the most arduous task she’s ever been give. She blinks once, twice, and her eyelids slowly begin to flutter.

A cup suddenly appears in front of her, and Blair startles back to awareness, peering through her wall of textbooks to see who laid it there. She blinks the remaining sleepiness from her eyes, and they go wide when she sees Kameron standing there. Her wet hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and the logo on her duffle bag tells Blair she’s just come from the sports centre a few minutes down the road. She’s got that same worried look in her eyes, but her smile is soft and gentle.

“Hey,” she murmurs, deep voice sending a different kind of shiver through Blair’s spine. “You alright?”

For a moment, Blair thinks that she could tell the truth, but the thought only lasts a second, and when she opens her mouth it’s the same two words. “I’m fine,” she breathes. “Just tired.”

Kameron nods slowly, and Blair hears the ghost of a “Yeah,” slip from her lips before they both look away.

She takes a breath, and tries. “How are y-you?” Her own voice sounds unfamiliar.

Kameron smiles as if she were excited about the question and Blair’s heart swells. “I’m good, I just finished working out.” Blair tries not to let her imagination stray, but her plan of focusing on Kameron’s hushed, even voice doesn’t end up helping. “Your name’s Blair, right? I, uhm, I bought you a hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Blair squeaks, and she flinches upwards when Kameron pushes the drink forward so it touches her fingers. It’s warm, and Blair grabs it with both hands before she can stop herself. “Thank you.” She blinks up at Kameron, a small smile dancing on her lips

“Yeah, no problem,” Kameron hums, her voice the sweetest candy Blair has ever heard. “It’ll warm you up on your way home.” Their eyes meet again. Kameron steps just a little closer, and leans down. “You should probably go get some rest.”

Blair wants to melt under her gaze, and she finds herself nodding despite the pile of work beneath her. With languid movements, she gathers her papers and books and slides them all into her bag neatly. When she’s finished, she rises on her still shaky legs, and slings the heavy bag over one shoulder, rubbing one of her eyes with her free hand.

Kameron’s phone buzzes, and Blair startles awake again, turning towards her. “My name is Kameron, by the way, and Aquaria says hi,” the girl introduces herself as if Blair didn’t already know who she was. She blushes at the realization that Kameron had texted Aquaria something about her.

“H-Hello,” she stammers, trying not to let her excitement show. Kameron chuckles, a gruff but lovely sound, and Blair’s blush deepens. “Sorry,” she says instinctively, “I mean- I- Tell her I said hello…”

Oh, how Blair longs to hide her face in her sleeves and bolt.

Kameron touches her shoulder, featherlight, and takes a step towards the door. “C’mon,” she smiles, “I can walk you home, If you want.”

And so they walk together through the cold and fog, Blair’s gloveless hands kept warm by the still steaming hot chocolate. They settle into calm, sporadic conversation, and Blair is comforted by the company, becoming more and more at ease as their stroll continues. She hasn’t spoken to anyone, really spoken to anyone, in ages. Some of the invisible ten-ton weight on her shoulders lifts. Eventually, they come upon Blair’s apartment, and she whispers her grateful goodbye under the blurry yellow street lights.

“Th-Th-Thanks again for the hot chocolate,” her teeth chatter above her stuttering, but when Kameron touches her shoulder again heat blooms through her chest.

“It’s okay,” Kameron’s freckles look so beautiful with snow in her hair, and Blair can’t help but drink in the sight, even if just for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Something bright bubbles in Blair’s chest, and this time she does nothing to hide it. “Y-Yeah,” she sighs happily, basking in the unexpected warmth of the snow and glow. “Safe trip back.”

She turns away slowly, not wanting this absolute dream to end, but slowly shuffles up to her apartment nonetheless. She slips inside, places her hot chocolate on the kitchen counter, and buries her face in her hands.

She’s fucking giddy.

“Okay,” she breathes, attempting to calm herself down, but her phone sounds off and when she sees the notification her heart leaps into her throat. “I can help you w/ your hw tomorrow,” it reads, and Blair doesn’t know whether to feel grateful, or guilty that she still hasn’t sent anything past a greeting to Aquaria.

Her fingers fumble to type out a reply, and the only thought on her mind is “please.”

In the morning, Blair drifts through the hallways and waits for third period study hall, leg bouncing with anxiety under her desk. When the bell finally rings, she ducks through the taller students and dashes to her classroom. Her chest is tight, but it’s not unpleasant, and she tries to tell herself that she’s just excited to finish some chemistry work.

She’s the first in the room, as usual, and she all but falls into her usual seat in the back corner. Her inhales are shaky, and her eyes flicker towards the door every time some students trickle in. She’s in the middle of trying to take a deep breath when she spots them, and the giddiness begins anew.

Kameron’s face lights up and Aquaria practically skips towards her. They’re holding hands, and Blair gives them a small wave.

“Bonjour,” Aquaria greets, and god, Blair could implode. She twirls that purple pen in her slim fingers and takes the seat in front of Blair, while Kameron sits beside her.

“Did you sleep well?” Kameron asks, and Blair thinks she might be a little too mesmerized by it.

“Yeah,” she answers, raising her eyebrows. For the first time in a while, it’s not a lie. After climbing into bed, sated from hot cocoa and warm feelings, she slept like an absolute log.

Aquaria drums her fingers on Blair’s desk, her eyes gleaming not unlike a cat’s. “Good,” she says, “let’s get started on that chemistry. I want to do something easy today.”

Blair blinks and Kameron groans, “Babe,” from beside her. Aquaria gives Kameron a puzzled look, and Blair just pulls out her stack of papers, stifling a grin.

Aquaria is terrible at explaining things, it turns out. She stumbles and mumbles, and always ends up just writing out the steps of the problems on Blair’s scrap paper; breezing through them. Occasionally, her tongue pokes out from between her lips as she concentrates, and Blair catches Kameron staring fondly as she struggles not to do the same.

After she’s worked through a decent few sheets, Blair pauses to stretch, and Aquaria whips out her phone. Blair isn’t at all surprised when she immediately opens instagram. It’s kind of cute, actually. She tries not to peek too much at the colorful makeup and fashion posts that scroll by.

Kameron puts her phone down, and when Blair glances over the girl gives her a shy smile. “Hey, what are you doing for lunch?” she tilts her head to the side and some stray red hair falls over her face. Aquaria looks over to them with those curious cat eyes of hers, and Blair shrinks with the attention.

“I’m not doing anything,” she shrugs, hoping she doesn’t sound as pathetic as she feels. The two share a look, some sort of secret conversation, and then Aquaria speaks.

“I’ll tell the girls we have other business to attend to.” She jumps back to her phone, and Kameron laughs aloud. “What?”

Her smile when she answers is art across her face and Blair continues to watch the exchange, enraptured. “Why are you such a savage, sweets?”

Aquaria gasps, seemingly very offended by the accusation. “I’m not being savage, it’s the truth.” She crosses her arms, and honest to god pouts when Kameron continues to laugh, even whining when Blair gives in and starts to chuckle to. Words don’t seem to be Aquaria’s strong suit, but it’s endearing in an odd way. “You’re so mean to me,” complains Aquaria, huffing in frustration and blowing strands of her silky black hair around in process.

Kameron stands then, stepping over to smooth out her girlfriend’s hair. Blair feels like she’s intruding on an intimate moment, something small but entirely theirs, until someone singsongs a little ways away. “Ooh, look at the lovebirds,” the girl laughs, and Aquaria sticks her tongue out at her.

“Shut up, Vanessa, let me be gay in peace.”

“But you’re gonna kill poor blondie over there, she looks like a fucken’ tomato,” Vanessa exclaims, and Blair’s face explodes further into a blush than it already apparently is. Her shoulders spike as Aquaria and Kameron both turn to her. Aquaria meets her eyes for a second, and stares like she’s set eyes on a delicious canary, before glancing away and giving the look to Kameron instead.

“Chemistry time, then, Blair.” Aquaria spins the purple pen in her hand again, while Kameron and Blair both avoid eye contact, flustered.

Blair tries to ignore Vanessa when she laughs again, and heaves a sigh of relief when the lunch bell rings.

#rpdr fanfiction #blair st clair #aquaria #kameron michaels #aquaria x blair x kameron #fluff #lesbian au #and i want you #sheep #s10 #poly #high school au #rare pair