Idk if you still take requests but can you do a kbtbb group piece where Mc gets kidnapped and the guys work together to find her? Love your work btw
Title: 99 Reasons Why I’ll Never Be Good Enough For You
Summary: He should’ve answered the phone when he had the chance.
Pairing: Everyone/MC, mostly Eisuke-centric
a/n: Here it is, anon! I’m sorry this took so long. I normally don’t take any requests, but I liked yours! Also, this is mostly Eisuke-centric, so I hope that’s okay with you lol
The auctions were once again in full swing. All the items
Baba put up were the star of the show, and none of the patrons could get enough
of the prized antiques on stage. Every time the zeroes piled up, Eisuke’s smirk
Good, Eisuke thought. More profit for us.
His phone buzzed all of a sudden,
but he paid it no mind. The auctions were more important than some offhanded
phone call. He didn’t even bother taking his phone out of his pocket when he
pressed the sleep button to make it stop ringing.
Whoever was calling him must have
been pretty insistent because the phone wouldn’t stop ringing even after Eisuke
ignored it the first time.
bastard. Didn’t this person get the message already?
Irritated, he turned his phone off.
At least he wouldn’t be disturbed anymore.
Hey i read your antho thing and was wondering...Does Tony's head hair poof when hes startled? Does his bum wiggle before he pounces? Does he do the tongue blep? Does he glare at people while knocking their items off the bench daring them to try something? Does he have the cutest sneezes? I'm not sure if this has been asked but does he purr? What other sounds does he make? Sorry to bother you i just seen my cats do these things and wondered how much of them tony would do
Well! :D I never thought about this but now I am!
His hair does poof when he’s startled! Natasha likes to frighten him because his tail poofs up as well and his ears go flat and she thinks it’s hilarious. Tony doesn’t think it’s hilarious but he’s also frightened of her (not in like a bad way, but in a ‘she could do so much worse to me’ way) so he just puts up with it. It helps that Natasha likes to pat his fur back down, and that feels nice.
He doesn’t typically pounce on things because he’s an adult, but when he was little he’d always wiggle his little tushy before he pounced. It’s like the difference between a domestic and feral cat; domestics will wiggle their bums and swish their tails, while feral cats will stay perfectly still until they pounce. Once they grow up, cats take pouncing less like play. If Tony pounces on something outside of play, it is viciously, with the intent to do harm. (He typically doesn’t pounce much in play either though because the people he plays with do not appreciate him drawing blood so hard. And by people I mean Steve. Steve does not like his life flashing before his eyes before Tony rips his arm open.)
He does the tongue blep. Tony doing the tongue blep is everyone’s phone background. It’s funnier because it’s not like everyone caught him doing the tongue blep at the same time. These are all different bleps. (Cats do not groom themselves with their tongues but they will use a little spit to smooth down stubborn hair. Tony also sticks his tongue out when he’s thinking sometimes and that’s the cause for like half of his bleps.) The team always texts each other the newest picture of The Blep, partly because they’re little shits and partly because they think it’s adorable. (Tony is the only one with a picture of Pepper blepping though.)
It has been stated that Tony makes very aggressive eye-contact when he knocks people’s stuff off of counters. Sometimes he’ll walk up to people and smack stuff right out of their hands. He even knocks stuff out of Natasha’s hands. One time it was a glass of wine. He got mad at her for staining the carpet and left her sputtering in indignation because he was the one that made her drop the glass in the first place.
Tony went seven months before he accidentally sneezed in front of the team. Then he ran screaming from the room because everyone was squealing and wanted to hug him. Clint and Thor have decided that if a villain ever seems unbeatable, they just need to make Tony sneeze in front of them because the sound he makes is all that is good and pure in the world rolled into one adorable noise. (Steve has a video of Tony sneezing that only he and Bucky know about because Tony would make him delete it immediately. They watch the video on bad nights.)
He does purr! Everyone on the team gets super smug and proud when he drapes himself over them and begins to purr. Also it helps to relax whoever he’s draped over. If someone’s having a really bad day, JARVIS will ping him and he’ll go throw himself over them and purr. Tony also chirps and clicks when he’s upset, like cats when they see a bird on the other side of the window. (It’s very hard to take him seriously when he does that which just makes him click and chirp more.) The first few weeks the Avengers moved into the tower, he chirped and clicked a lot because he was not used to living with people, especially people that did not share his same instincts, and he didn’t know how else to express that he was upset. Cue literally everyone except Natasha and Thor being very confused about the noises he’s making. (”Natasha he’s… he’s clicking at me.” “Then get out of his seat, dumb ass.” “These are all his seats.”)
It’s a little late, but Happy Encounter Anniversary! In honor of the day, I wrote up a little KaiShin fic for you all! I hope you enjoy!
“Could you really, Kudou? You’d be doing me a huge favor,” Hakuba said,
earnest. “I know it’s short notice, but
I’m sure you’ve seen how Kid can be.”
Shinichi tried to smile. “Yes, the newspapers are quite clear about
how… capricious he can be.” He could
feel his expression turn serious. “Are
you sure I’m the right detective for the job?”
Hakuba nodded without any
hesitation. “Yes, I’ve given this some
thought. I think it has to be you. In fact, I think it couldn’t be anyone
else.” A protest was on the tip of
Shinichi’s tongue when Hakuba’s phone rang.
“My apologies, Kudou. I have to
take this. Don’t forget, the heist is on
Headcannon with RFA+V+Saeran reacting to MC being a foreigner(I'm german but if you don't want to use that it's ok...) but only noticing it because of the accent
German? Sweet. I have always wanted to learn German! And sorry about this request, it isn’t my best because I wasn’t sure what to write.
- He thinks it’s really cool and he loves the contrast between his accent and yours. He would probably ask you to teach him the basics of the language, and if it intrigues him, might ask you to get more serious with it - Wants to learn about your family now. Are you completely (nationality). Are you only half German/French/etc? Your ancestors? - Wants to brag his friends on LOLOL saying his partner his from another country. He’ll brag to his friends at uni too - He loooooves your accent. Like he will ask you to speak to him in your mother tongue, even if he has no clue what you’re saying to him
- The first time he sees you watching a series in your native tongue, he thinks you are a language student or something. And he is impressed. Having not been to university, he is supportive of everyone around him who has or is currently studying - But when he finds out that you’re not from here, he smiles fondly of you. He is super impressed. - Wants to know if you speak any other languages (for eg, you learned another language in school/your country has two official languages) and will ask you to say ‘I love you’ in as many as you can - Totally not for his ego (*cough*) - Might ask you to rehearse lines but to say your lines in your native tongue
- Jaehee was pretty excited to meet you for the first time since you appeared in the chatroom. As you two bonded, she was fascinated by you… what you looked like, your interests, your favourite Zen movie - But she never stopped to consider the fact that you were not from here. And she was so pleased and really excited. - She heard you speaking in your native tongue whilst on the phone to your parents or something - If you’re new here, she will want to show you around and dazzle you with her knowledge/history of where you now live/stay - If she’s not slaving after Mr. Han, she might be trying to learn more about your own culture or the language you speak - Might subtly show off that her girlfriend is from another country
- Before he realises his feelings for you, he genuinely thinks you would be able to drum up business for C&R in hour respective country. - LIKE SHEESH - But he actually finds your accent, well… hot nice to listen to. - Immediately wants to learn this language. If he plans on proposing, he wants to make it special by making it known to your parents and rings them beforehand. - If you ever feel a little homesick, he would pay for your trips back to your family and friends and would video call you every evening to practice - On your honeymoon, he wants to explore your hometown and the surrounding cities. He wants to see you speak with that sparkle in your eyes that appears when you’re passionate about something.
- V recites his adventure of taking pictures back when he went to (insert your country). When he meets you for the first time, face-to-face, he will take down his camera and show you all of the stunning photos he took there. - “It’s a shame… I am not able to see (country) with you. I want to be able to take pictures there, but with you this time.” - You kiss his forehead. - You felt so sorry for him and his growing blindness, growing beyond repair at this stage… - But since the other sense are heightened, you would always speak in your native tongue. - You would describe your hometown to him, using an excess of imagery for his sake, and he would listen intently and try to picture it with his mind - When you two actually visit (insert country), he wants to get the surgery he has been neglecting for so, so long (if it isn’t too late at that stage)… he wants to see it with you. - He wants to see you truly at home
- Psssh - This guy speaks 17 languages already, so he can probably speak yours. Not as impressed as the others are, but is still intrigued. - With his previous job as a hacker, he could never really leave the country. Hell, he was uncomfortable of leaving the house of what could happen or what he could do. - He already knew you were from another country after he did a background check on you. This guy knows where you lived pfft - Will do extensive research on the country anyway. He wants to wow you with his knowledge (as if he hasn’t done this enough already…) - Will say ‘I love you’ in all 17 languages at some point, yours being first and Korean being last. - When you’re still coming to grips with Korean for the first time, he is there to help you and go over the basics with you. Your stuttering is almost cute at times and when you get embarrassed for using the wring verb or tense or something, he bats your head. - He knows you’re trying - But he will speak to you in (language) if it makes it easier for you.
Sorry about this, @legendarycandypenguin if you feel it’s not to your liking, I’ll pull it down and redo it :)
Summary: They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Sidenote/warnings: Angst, suggestive, mature content. Scenario of 2k words.
It’s not that hard, right? Everyone does it, her reassurance was flimsy, weak. Quivering through her mouth as convincing as she could manage and Minho could only nod dubiously.
We can do this, he said after a while, squeezing her hand in his pockets, a supposed effort for comfort that did little to soothe the both of them. Time seemed to tick louder than usual back then, rolling in a flash and she remembered it was already past midnight, six hours before his scheduled train.
Or you know… Minho swallowed thickly, leaving his words unfinished and she glanced at him with eyes consumed in false hope.
Note: I absolutely love the Avengers, so I couldn’t help but write this scenario. Nevertheless, this is my very first reader-insert so hopefully you like it!
It was another uneventful Tuesday as you waited at the bus stop, impatient to get back home. You had just finished your classes at the local university, and you were eager to fling yourself into your bed to catch a few hours of sleep before your shift at the bookstore started. You were really starting to regret taking morning classes. The whole point of college was that you could choose what time you wanted to show up, so you had no idea why you decided on torturing yourself with the same hours as a high school student.
You look around and a couple more people were standing underneath the awning of the bus stop, glad to have relief from intense rays of the afternoon sun even for a little while. The bus was running a bit late, but you were used to this by now. Not everything in this city was perfectly punctual, no matter how much the people of Seoul busied themselves to try and make it so.
You repositioned the bag that was hanging from your right shoulder, its heavy contents slowly starting to take a toll on your muscles, as you reached into the inner pocket and pulled out your phone. You woke up the screen to check the time and realized that you had gotten a text message from your brother, Yoongi.
Request: can you do a stiles imagine, where you guys are best friends but you both secretly like each other and he picks you up from a party and your really drunk and complimenting him and touching him and smut or fluff :)
A/N: Okay I’m super sorry I really don’t know why but I was in the mood for Empire Records so I quoted the shit out of it, so if you haven’t seen it parts of this might not make sense. I highly suggest you see it though, it’s hilarious. Anyway, so this happened, I hope it’s still good. I also quoted The Longest Yard cause I’m a stupid ass and I may have been tipsy myself when I wrote this? If you need to know what the quotes are let me know I guess.
Your vision was blurry as you stared at your phone screen, tongue poking out of the side of your mouth as you concentrated. You scrolled through your contacts until you saw the familiar contact photo of your best friend Stiles. You pressed on his number and held the phone to your ear, swaying slightly. The phone rang three times before he answered.
“‘Lo?” He sounded like he had been asleep. You giggled, picturing him groggy and sleepy, his hair sticking up, his sweatpants low on his hips. Yummy.
“Stiles!” You sang, plopping down on the curb. “Hi!”
Once a Frat Boy, Always a Frat Boy. | Calum Hood - Part 8.
Summary: In which a new student, (Y/N), finds herself becoming the toy to popular frat boy Calum Hood. The only problem is that (Y/N) was warned about Calum her first day on campus, and Calum just so happens to be dating (Y/N)’s best friend, Callie Mitchell. She hates him. She hates him more than she’s hated anyone ever before; however, she can’t help the growing feeling inside of her stomach after she finds out some very interesting things about Calum that no one had ever known before.
Pairing: Calum/Reader (bonding?)
Requested?: Yes. :’)
A/N: This is more like a filler chapter. The next one will be better, I promise! Please keep reading, this series is close to half way over. :(
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas aka the Follow You Down Christmas spectacular/shitshow. I blame @kashyuriart. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.
Mairon’s phone buzzed, and he
glanced at the text message that had popped up on the screen. One word, sent from Melkor: help.
Mairon rolled his eyes, set his
phone aside, and picked up the report he had been reading. A moment later, his phone buzzed again. Another message from Melkor appeared on the screen:
Mairon clucked his tongue and
turned his phone over, screen facing the desk.
He swiveled his chair gently and skimmed the page in his hand, looking
for where he had left off.
The phone buzzed again. Against his better judgement, Mairon picked
it up and looked at the message that had just arrived: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp.
“For God’s sake,” he muttered.
Before he could respond, a barrage
of identical messages began to fill the screen.
“Jesus Christ,” he swore. He pushed himself back from his desk and
stalked across the hall to Melkor’s office, his phone still buzzing incessantly
in his hand. “For the love of God,” he
snapped, pushing into Melkor’s office.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, thank God,” said Melkor, laying
his hand dramatically over his heart. “I
thought you’d never come.”
“What do you want?” asked Mairon
“I need an electrical engineer.”
“I’m not an electrical engineer.”
“That’s not what your master’s
“Oh my God,” said Mairon, throwing
his head back and sighing. “What do you
“Advice,” said Melkor. “From my dear friend, and go-to problem
“Melkor, I swear to God—”
“Alright, alright,” said
Melkor. “Relax. I need you to look at something.” He slid a piece of paper across his desk.
Mairon picked it up, his brows
knitting together as he looked at the scribbled notes. “What am I looking at?”
“Plans,” said Melkor.
“Plans for what?”
“The greatest light display you’ve
ever seen,” said Melkor.
“I don’t know what I expected,”
said Mairon, shaking his head.
“Aw, come on,” said Melkor. “I’ve tried, like, four different
configurations, and I’ve blown a different fuse every time. I’m desperate.”
“You need is an electrician, not an
“But what I have,” said Melkor, “is
an electrical engineer. So…”Mairon
scowled, and Melkor adopted an ingratiating grin. “Please?”
“You know I’m incredibly busy,
“I have like, eight projects I need
to finish before New Year’s.”
“Aw, come on, Scrooge. It’s Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.”
“You’re a huge drain on my productivity. You know that, right?”
“Is that a yes?”
Mairon sighed. “I want you to know this is resignation, not
willingness. Do you hear me?”
“Nope,” said Melkor, scooping up
his plans and grinning widely. “I can’t
hear you over the sound of Christmas cheer.
Come on,” he said, tossing Mairon his coat and heading for the
door. “I’m parked out front.”
“Holy shit,” said Thuringwethil,
looking around in awe. “I should’ve
brought my sunglasses.”
“Pretty sweet, huh?” said Melkor,
beaming with pride as he looked around at his apartment, which looked vaguely as
though Willy Wonka had been allowed to design a storefront holiday
display. There were lights around every
window and door frame in sight, blinking their blues and greens and reds in a
clash of meandering patterns. There were
soft, white icicle lights strung in zig-zags across the ceiling. Red and silver tinsel lined every windowsill
and wound intricately around the banister of the stairs. There were two trees in the living room, each
at least six feet tall and dripping with so many lights and ornaments that the
boughs drooped dangerously low to the ground.
There were small trees on every side table in sight, each decorated in a
different color. Four stockings hung
over the fireplace, which bled soft light and warmth into the room.
“That’s one word for it,” said
Thuringwethil, eyeing the miniature train that wound around the perimeter of
the room, slaloming between trees and furniture before disappearing through the
doorway and into the kitchen.
“I love it,” said Gothmog, pushing
Thuringwethil inside and closing the door behind them.
“You’re going to blow a fuse,” said
Thuringwethil, looking suspiciously at the lights.
“I’ve got it covered,” said
Melkor. He craned his head toward the kitchen. “Mairon?” he called.
“Still working,” came the reply,
from somewhere in the depths of the cavernous apartment.
“Jesus,” said Gothmog. “Still?
You guys left like, three hours ago.”
“It’s a delicate procedure,” said
“And judging by the amount of
lights already up,” said Thuringwethil, “possibly dangerous as well. Where should I put this stuff?” She held up the bags in her hands.
“What is it?”
“Food,” she said, heading toward
the kitchen. “I brought mashed potatoes,
gravy, and green beans. Gothmog has the
drinks.” She set the bags down carefully
on the counter, the crockery clinking gently as it settled. “I need to heat it up, though. Can I use the oven?”
“Go for it.”
“Did you heat up the ham, or are
you going to wait?”
“The ham,” she said. “Does it need to go in too?’
Um,” said Melkor.
“You forgot, didn’t you?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Then where is it?”
“I have to pick it up,” said
Melkor. “I was just on my way out,
“You’re not going to find one on
this late notice.”
“Bet me,” said Melkor, flashing a
grin as he headed for the door.
“And that’s why we never leave
Melkor in charge of anything,” she said, sighing as she turned the oven on to
preheat. “It’s Christmas dinner, for
crying out loud. How can you forget the
“On the bright side,” said Gothmog,
“we have plenty of wine.”
“Thank God,” said Thuringwethil. “Now if we can just find the corkscrew…”
“Honey!” called Melkor, kicking
open the front door. “I’m home!”
“Wow,” said Gothmog. “That was fast.” He turned in his spot on the couch and craned
to look at Melkor. “What’d you get us?”
“Ham,” said Melkor. “As promised.” He ambled into the kitchen and set an
enormous platter on the counter.
“Oh my God,” said Thuringwethil,
turning away from the stove. “Where’d
you get that?”
“Downst—from your building’s
“You stole the ham from your
building’s community Christmas party?”
“’Stole’ is such a strong word.”
“How about ‘grinched’?” suggested Gothmog,
coming over to inspect the platter.
“To be fair,” said Melkor, “the
Grinch stole the roast beast.”
“The type of meat isn’t really the
issue here,” said Thuringwethil.
“You wanted a ham,” said
Melkor. “I got you a ham.”
“You stole one, you mean.”
“Grinched,” said Gothmog.
“Don’t encourage him,” said
“Alright,” said Mairon, coming into
the kitchen at last. “We may have an
illegal number of extension cords in here, but I think it’ll hold for the night.”
“So everything’s hooked up?” asked
“It’s good to go,” said Mairon, walking
to the counter and surveying the food with interest. “Is that ham?
“It’s stolen,” said Thuringwethil,
frowning at Melkor.
“I don’t even care,” said
Mairon. “I’m starving.”
“Then let’s eat,” said Melkor,
maneuvering a stack of plates out of the cupboard.
“Okay,” said Thuringwethil, “but—”
“Thuringwethil, it’s Christmas.”
“So take this,” said Melkor,
handing her a glass of wine, “and this,” he continued, placing a Santa hat
gently on her head, “and for once in your life, relax.”
“Is it me,” said Gothmog, “or is
this eggnog getting weaker?”
“No,” said Thuringwethil, “you’re
just getting drunker.”
“Yeah,” said Gothmog. “You’re probably right.”
“Drink,” said Melkor, waving his
glass at the TV and sloshing eggnog onto the carpet, “as we watch our hero,
one-time child star Macaulay Culkin, attempt to smash Joe Pesci’s skull with a
“I swear we didn’t drink nearly
this much last year,” said Gothmog, pouring himself a fresh glass.
“We drink exactly the same amount
every year,” said Melkor. “One drink
every time Kevin sets off a trap that could’ve killed someone.”
“At least we’re only watching Home Alone,” said Thuringwethil. “Remember the year we watched the sequel,
“That was my first year, if I
remember correctly,” said Mairon.
“I think you’re right,” said Gothmog. “Somehow, you were the only one who didn’t
get completely shitfaced.”
“How did you manage that?” asked
“I took strategically smaller
sips,” said Mairon.
“Cheater,” said Melkor, dumping
eggnog into Mairon’s glass. “You better
make up for it tonight.”
“Working on it,” said Mairon. He nodded at the screen. “Drink.”
“Look at ‘em,” said Melkor,
feigning disgust as he nodded toward the couch, where Gothmog and Thuringwethil
had fallen asleep. “Couple of
lightweights, I tell you.”
“Give them a break,” said Mairon
mildly, sprawled sideways in a chair.
“It’s been a long month.”
“Yes,” Melkor agreed, sighing. “The fact that it’s over is just about the
best gift I could’ve asked for.”
“Oh, man,” said Mairon, heaving
himself out of his chair and looking around.
“I almost forgot.”
“Shoot,” said Mairon, not
listening. “Where did I put it?”
“Kitchen,” said Melkor, standing up
and trailing Mairon out of the room.
“Good call,” said Mairon, snatching
his jacket from the kitchen table and rummaging in the pocket.
“What are you looking for?” asked
Melkor, leaning against the island.
“This,” said Mairon triumphantly,
pulling a slightly crumpled envelope from his pocket and turning around.
“What is it?”
“A gift,” said Mairon, smoothing it
gently. He walked over to the island and
held the envelope out in front of him.
“Merry Christmas, Melkor,” he said.
“No fair,” said Melkor. “This is a no-present party.”
“I know,” said Mairon. “But I couldn’t resist.”
Melkor broke the envelope’s seal
and fished out a piece of paper, folded in thirds. Setting aside the envelope, he pulled open
the folded paper and scanned it. His
eyes widened as he read, and he looked up at Mairon, mouth agape. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Patent papers on the Silmaril
programs,” said Mairon. “It’s still
“It’s perfect,” said Melkor firmly,
crossing the distance between them. He
lifted Mairon’s chin and kissed him gently on the lips. “Absolutely perfect,” he murmured, kissing
him again. “Which makes it, like, doubly
terrible that I didn’t get anything for you.”
“Keep that up,” said Mairon, “and
we’ll call it even.”
Thanks to @bkwrm523 for adding a little Star Wars to this and to @blacktithe7 for giving me insult after insult to add.
Also thank you to the amazing @kayteonline for being my beta on this!
You were pissed as you ran from your car to the stairs of the bunker. Dean had locked the entrance to the garage, and you had no other choice but to make a run for it. It was pouring and you were completely drenched after the short jog from your car to the entrance.
When you finally got inside your clothes were sticking to your body, your long hair dripping and messy, and your shoes made a squishy squeaking sound along the floor as you made your way through the bunker, calling out to Sam and Dean. There was no answer.
Hey! Can you do an Ashton one where he comes of stage (or something like that) and lies on your tummy bc that's his favourite thing about you? Also I love plus size imagines they make me feel happy! I hope you had a good day m'love!❤️❤️
may have turned out a little less cute than I originally planned, came out a bit more…steamy? oh well. hope you like it!
The pillow beneath your head is steadily growing damp, the drops of water that fall from your wet hair darkening the blue fabric of the cover. You’re throughly relaxed in this position, clothed in a set of underwear that you didn’t bother to match and a t-shirt of Ashton’s that stretches tight across your chest and tummy but loose around the shoulders.
In the background, the shower’s still running; a naked and sweaty Ashton had climbed in behind you just as you finished, nudging you out of the shower spray with a grin and a pinch to the flesh of your ass. He’d whined playfully when you climbed out, leaving him with the partially obscured view of your ass and the sound of your laughter as the shower door closed after you.
You hum along to the tune Ashton’s been singing, nails tapping against the screen of your phone as you scroll through. You’ve only just dipped your toes into an article that’s caught your eye when the shower finally shuts off and Ashton appears.
His curls are saturated with water, darkened to a brown and water droplets slip down his bare torso to disappear beneath the towel knotted low on his waist. It’s just low enough that you can see the coarse hair that starts at the end of his happy trail, disappearing beneath the terry cloth that hides the slight bulge of him.
Your eyes follows the path without even realizing they’ve left the screen of your phone, tongue peeking out to moisten your lips. “My eyes are up here, babe.”
Slowly, you drag your eyes back up his long torso until you can meet his smirking gaze. Ashton just gives you a knowing look that makes you shrug, watching as he drops the towel and his hips shake as he pulls on a pair of boxers.
“Not my fault every part of you is pretty, Irwin.” If you’re caught, you’re caught. There’s no use denying it.
Ashton tosses his head back and laughs, lifting one knee to climb onto the bed and crawl forward. He ducks his head down, moving to let his chapped lips skim up the skin of your legs; reaching the exposed, stretch marked, skin just at the crease between the top of your thigh and your pelvis, nibbling and soothing the mark with a brush of his tongue against the indents left behind.
One of his large hands grips around the side of one thigh, the other pushes his shirt up over the curve and pudge of your belly. The introduction of the cool air in the room causes an outbreak of goosebumps and Ashton nuzzles into the softness exposed to him. “Mmm…love this.”
You hum appreciatively, shifting to let him settle between your thighs. “Yeah?”
Ashton nods, kissing across the expanse of your skin. “Love your stomach. Love how soft you are, love how pliable and full you look.” He smirks against you, liking the way you shiver when he drags his tongue and sucks the skin between his lips.
“Love to come home to you and just lay with you. Love this…” He stops and exhales, hot breath heating your damp skin. Ashton shifts up, coming to hover over you, your own hands settling against his bare waist as he finishes speaking. “Love you.”