Ahaha ;) Tis True.

ahaha ;) tis true. 

Do you write NSFW stuff?

hey dude! unfortunately, i do not. i can write slight smut but… full on NSFW? no. i’m very very bad at it!

but!!!!! @pitaparka is not! and she’s a great writer! who is accepting request for a bunch of stuff rn including obx. if you have any NSFW ideas you wanna see, shes your girl

lock, stock, and barrel

summary: your dog locks you out of your car. the locksmith who shows up to let her out? is kinda hot 

pairings: scott lang x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: you have a big dumbass dog (but a cute dumbass) and your dad is your wingman (and if you dont have a dad im ur dad now have you taken your meds today? wanna go fishing?)

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found, which you can watch here (x) nobody requested this but i love scott so much. big love. 

A van pulls up to the house, and parks in front of the driveway. It’s repurposed, definitely, with the words “X-Con Security Consultants” lovingly (read: clumsily) painted (read: scrawled) onto the side. 

“That’s Hank Pym’s kid,” your father says to your mother, and she scoffs.

“No he’s not, he's the intern boy,” she argues, but you don’t care who’s son he is or if he’s interning. He’s beautiful. He has a wide smile on his face as he makes his way from his sketchy van with a bag of tools in hand.

“Scott!” Your father greets, leaving your mother to grumble amongst herself about the man’s origins.

“Hey! Morning, sir!” Scott calls back, and your father gives him a firm handshake. Your father doesn’t notice the pain in Scott’s eyes when he does this, but you do, and you like him immediately for it.

Your father leads the conversation as he guides him over to your car, you shamefully stand by the passenger side, treats and toys in hand. You come around to greet them both.

“—it’s good for extra cash since our expertise is locks and security,” Scott finishes, and your dad listens with intense curiosity.

“Tell Pym I said hi,” he says, before noticing you.

“Ah, Scott, here’s the culprit,” he says, leading him over to you.

“Technically, Delilah is the culprit, dad,” you complain, and he scoffs a little.

“Who locked her in there?” he says playfully, and you gasp.

“She did!” you say, laughing, and there are smiles all around.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself, and Scott holds out a hand for you.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and you notice his hands are firm and soft, “I’m here to save your dog. And also your car.”

You smirk, “Thank you.”

You notice he smiles a lot, which is not something you mind. He places a small work bag down on the ground near your driver’s side. He bends his neck at awkward angles to try and make out where your buttons are through your tinted windows.

“Tell him what happened,” your dad encourages, crossing his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, though it doesn’t apply to this situation.

“I put her in my car to take her on a ride, and I was walking around the other side to get in, and she hit the lock button,” you say sheepishly, staring at Delilah.

Your father laughs and shakes his head, telling you to call him if you needed anything, returning inside to catch the rest of the baseball game for a team he couldn’t care less about.

“It happens to the best of us. She’s really cute,” he says encouragingly, and you smile, because she’s not the only cute one in your general vicinity.

“Hi Delilah!” He coos, and she barks at him.

“Delilah, no,” your mother scolds, and she stares at you from the passenger seat with her tongue out.

“Well, I see how it is,” he mutters, and you laugh. He looks back at you when you do and you notice the light on his hair and how he squints just a little bit when he smiles. He turns back to your car, and works a car door wedge into the window of the driver’s side door. His focus is intense. 

“Where you guys headed?” He asks, budging the wedge in and turning a crank on the side.

“We were just going on a ride. I kinda wanted to take her to get Starbucks, but now I’m not sure she deserves it,” you say, crossing your arms, knowing full well Delilah would get her puppuccino anyway.

“Aw, of course she does,” he says, looking at her panting at him through the glass.

“Isn’t that right, Delilah?” He says. She pays no attention to him. But it’s okay. You’re paying enough attention for the both of you.

“She has beautiful eyes,” he muses, and you hum in agreement.

“You have really nice eyes too,” you compliment accidentally, and you can feel the heat on your face as you try to play it off.

“Thank you,” he says, and you note his smile in the reflection of your car window as he falters with the wedge and the crank.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you say, and he stops. 

“Uh, sure,” he says. He kneels down in your driveway to look for something in the small bag of tools he brought with him.

“I think we have coke? And orange juice probably, unless you want like, a water or something,” you say, and he accepts the water offer.

You turn to leave, but your mom is already halfway in the house.

“I can go get it,” your mom says, throwing you a smile over her shoulder. 

You’re stuck in an awkward silence for a few minutes as he wiggles and pushes and tinkers with wires through your window. He pulls out a malleable wire and shoves it through the window wedge. You watch him work, with precise hands and concentration plastered on his face. But soon enough, with persistence and skill, Scott unlocks your car from the inside, carefully removes the car door wedge, and subsequently frees your poor pooch from her automated prison. 

He opens the door, and Delilah moves to the driver’s side to smell Scott. She jumps out of the car and starts sniffing around him, her leash hanging limply on the ground.

You retrieve it and let Delilah do her thing.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as he crouches down to say hello to your pup.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” he says, and begins speaking to Delilah in a baby voice, “especially when I meet cute puppies like you, yes I do, yes I do!”

Delilah is loving the attention, and she smiles as he pets her behind the ears. You give her butt a few taps and go to speak to Scott again, but your mom returns from the kitchen.

“I cut up some fruit for you guys,” she informs, like you two were best friends having a sleepover. She balances two cold bottles of water, and, sure enough, a plate of fruit she stole from a platter sitting in your fridge.

“Mom,” you whine a little, and your dad follows soon after, in pursuit of the fruit.

“I’m alright, ma’am. Thank you though.”

Your mom yells your dad’s name in the direction of the front door, clearly not seeing him behind her. He steals a chunk of fruit off the platter and complains, “I’m right here, woman,”

“Oh,” she says, laughing in your direction, before she informs him Scott had gotten Delilah out.

“Someone had to,” he grumbles, and he runs back inside to grab his wallet. 

You watch as Scott stands and grabs his bag, smiling at Delilah and turning to return the stuff to his van. Delilah decides to follow him.

“Delilah, please,” you beg, and she stops pulling on her leash, sitting like a good girl. You watch as he puts some things in his truck, fiddling with something in there, before you realize you’re staring. 

You open your driver’s side door, letting Delilah hop in that way instead, and climb in after her, bumping her off your seat. You stare at her intently. She smiles back, none the wiser. 

“You, are going to be the death of me,” you assure her, and you're startled by a knock at your window. 

You expect Scott, but it’s your dad. You roll down your window. 

“I asked specifically for Scott,” he assures, and smiles at you.

“Dad,” you groan, head thumping your headrest. You sigh.

“Don’t be weird,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“When have I ever been weird?” He asks, followed by, “Don’t answer that.”

You absentmindedly pet Delilah.

“You want his number?” he asks, credit card in hand. You turn in your seat to look at Scott. He’s walking around to the other side of his van for something. 

“Not from you!” you muse, and that’s all your dad has to hear, grinning in triumph. 

“Dad!” you whisper harshly, “Don’t be weird!”

“I won’t!” he says, mocking your raspy whisper. 

You watch in your rear-view mirror as your dad goes up to Scott and hands him his credit card. Some words are exchanged, and then your mother goes up to him too. You decide you can’t watch anymore, and you hide your face in Delilah’s fur. 

“Delilah, what are we gonna do?” you say, and her ears perk up, because in her mind, you two are going to Starbucks for puppuccinos. 

“Not that, Delilah. Scott is so cute,” you inform her. She already knows, her eyes tell you, and you look back over at them. 

Scott is smiling at your car. He sees your face, and he waves, causing your parents to look over at you. You blush, and wave back at him. Your dad sends you a signal, but you don’t know what it means, and your mom’s exaggerated wink is overkill. 

You sigh and check your phone. No alerts, alarms, or notifications to take your mind off of the situation. 

You hear Scott’s truck start up, and he pulls away as easily as he pulled in, and that’s that. Just another candle in the wind, a cute guy you’d never see again. But apparently, your parents had other plans.

Pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, you pull into a parking spot to let Delilah enjoy her cup of whipped cream. You take a sip of your icy beverage, and you hear your phone ding. Checking your notifications, you realize it’s from an unknown number, and your heart jumps thinking who it could be.

Opening your phone, Delilah whines in anticipation for the whipped cream in the Starbucks cup in the holder. 

“Hang on, ‘Lilah,” you say and you open your phone to read the message.

did delilah get her puppuccino?

You smile at the text, and move to take a picture while you let Delilah go to town on her treat. Your phone chimes again and you hold the cup with one hand, skillfully checking your messages with the other. 

it’s scott by the way. didn’t know if you could tell.

You text back Delilah’s picture. You could tell it was Scott. 

“Delilah,” you say, “thank you so much for locking my door. You’re such a good girl,”

She knows. She decides to accept her payment in puppuccinos from now on.

;)

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. for when the person you’re trying to care for insists they don’t need your help.

“at least let me clean the wound!” “you’ll be even worse off if you don’t let me bandage this.” “i really think you need to see a doctor.” “i made you some soup, and i’m going to sit here until you eat it. i can wait.” “your feelings matter too! i can’t help you if i don’t even know what’s making you upset!” “..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own!” “listen, i know you don’t want to, but.. maybe you should rest for a while. you’re not going to get anywhere like this.” “i’ll make you a deal: i’ll just get you some bandages, and nothing else, and you stop making a fuss over it.” “how long has it last been since you slept?” “have you even been taking your medicine?” “i know you think you have to get through this by yourself, but you have people here to help you.” “let me take care of you, for once.” “you’re gonna hurt yourself even more if you do stupid things like that!” “i hate to break it to you, but you’re not supposed to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple weeks, and if i have to personally make sure you don’t every waking hour of the day then i’m fully prepared to do that.” “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” “stop trying to act like you’re not bleeding out in front of me!! this is serious!” “listen, asshole. i’m gonna carry you home whether you like it or not. you’re not in any condition to get there yourself.” “oh my god, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?!”

send some in folks! i think these would be really cool to do :)

A Kissing Prompt List

Places Where People Kiss:

In the rain.

In a vehicle.

In the street.

On the sidewalk.

In the shower.

In the kitchen.

In the snow.

Under the stars.

In the moonlight.

By the river.

In the water.

In the bedroom.

In a bar.

At a party.

At the other’s place.

By a campfire.

Reasons to kiss:

Life or Death

Love

Celebration

Longing

Missing the other

Relief

Lust

Need

No reason at all

Admiration

Power

First Kiss

Confessing feelings

A bet

Sad or hurt feelings

First date

listen to the waves

request: Okay can you make an imagine where your dating either two of the guys or one of the guys a kiara? And just how cute the relationship between you three would be

summary: john b. and kie take you to the beach with the rest of the pogues. tooth rotting fluff ensues 

pairings: john b. x reader x kie

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cuddle pile. that is all. 

a/n: this is super cute guys. big love. hope you enjoy it :)

The ocean had been shit all morning. Waves had only been breaking at knee length, and the winds had cleaned up but high tide was not looking good. 

Early in the morning the surfers had decided to go to the beach, and since they invited you, of course you’d tag along. It took almost no time for you to pack sandwiches into a cooler, accompanied by beer, water, and whatever salvageable snacks John B. had in his fridge. Of course, at your request, it was hardly hampering to stop at the twenty-four hour convenience store for melon cubes and grapes. 

“We’re not going for a picnic on the beach,” JJ complained in the back. He sat up against the boards that were blocking the door. 

“You like fruit too, JJ, shut up,” John B. defended. 

They waited in the cool blue morning before sunrise, the only sounds coming from John B.’s low playing stereo.

At the beach, you watched on from the old beach comforter you had packed in the back of John B.’s vintage van for trips like this. It was still cold and blue when you got there, but soon, yellows and oranges started to emerge from the horizon with the sun started to come up.

You didn’t mind watching them, boards curving and bodies contorting with the waves that they could catch, but mainly it was them lying around on their stomachs, waiting for one that they could ride out. When the sun came out, you put on sunscreen and laid out on the quilt. A few minutes on each side, flipping intermittently. You only look up when you hear the cooler open. 

“Hey,” John B. says, leaning over the cooler, dripping water everywhere. 

“Hey,” you reply, and watch him pull out a sandwich and tear into it like it’s the first thing he’s eaten in weeks.

“Wabes ‘re shit,” he comments, mouth full of ham and cheese and bread.

“I can see that,” you say, taking a look at the other three islanders sitting, waiting on their respective boards for anything salvageable.

“Didn’t you guys check the surf index before you decided to come out?” You ask, and John B. hands you a beer.

“Yeah.” he says, popping his own top off.

“You shouldn’t be drinking and surfing,” you chide, but you pop off the top and take a sip anyway.

“What ever did we do without you?” He speaks sarcastically. And lets his board fall into the sand. He takes the strap off his ankle and takes a seat next to you on the cooler. He leans down and rests his head on your head.

“Kie really wanted to surf today, so we thought if we came early there’d be enough waves, but apparently not.” He says, sandwich in one hand, beer in the other. The beach was almost empty, save for a few fishermen down one end.

You look up at him and plant a kiss to his salty forehead.

“How’s your knee?” you ask. He takes a look at it. It’s a lot more purple than it was before, but you can barely see any scrapes. That's what you get when you pick fights with kooks.

“It’s okay. The ocean will take care of it.”

You two watched silently as Kie caught her last wave in. 

“Morning,” you greet as she makes her way over, and she bends down to kiss you, playfully shoving John B.

He looks offended before she shoos him off the cooler to grab a water and the small bucket of grapes. 

When one came in, they all started coming in, and soon, JJ and Pope were also back with you, sand caked to the bottom of their feet, ocean water dripping from their hair, boards in hand, strapped in at the ankle.

Kie puts her board down next to you and sits on it, leaning her head up against your shoulder.

“You guys need sunscreen,” you comment, and Kie agrees.

“I’ve given up on sunscreen. It’s a plot by the government you know,” JJ says, and everyone gives him a weird look.

“Are you high?” Pope asks, and he sits down next to you, dripping salt water all over your dry bathing suit. You gasp a little, but he smiles and pops a piece of cubed fruit in his mouth and smiles again, so that it sticks in his cheek like a chipmunk. You poke it, and he starts chewing.

“No, I’m not even kidding. They’re making you buy something that you don’t even need! They just want you to spend money. Watch, I’m not even gonna burn,” JJ says, laying down on the blanket, soaking in the sun.

John B. comes over to you to steal melon from your tub. He leans down to grab some, but while he’s there he plants a kiss to your lips.

“Woah!” Pope cries, and JJ springs up.

“No Pogue on Pogue!” He cries playfully, fully aware of the relationship between you three.

“Actually,” he reconsiders, “I don’t mind if you and Kie kiss,” Pope clarifies, and JJ agrees. John B. wipes a sandy foot on Pope’s knee and he jerks it away. He goes to sit back down on the cooler.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kie says, rolling her eyes halfheartedly.

“But no macking on John B.,” JJ says defensively, going over to sit in John B.’s lap. John B. wraps his arms around JJ and JJ throws his arm over John B.’s shoulder.

“He’s mine,” he says, glaring at the two of you. 

“Damn, Pope never gets any love,” Pope says, and Kie pulls him off his board and pushes into your lap. You laugh and wrap your arms around his stomach. 

“It’s okay Pope, we still love you,” you say, and kiss his cheek. He wraps his arms around yours that are tight around his stomach, and you sit up against Kie. She wraps her arms around both of you and suddenly the other boys feel left out. JJ hops off of John B. quickly and sits in front of you all, letting Pope wrap his arms around him with no reluctance at all. 

“Sex train!” JJ yells and blush tints your face. You hear John B. get off the cooler and take his rightful place behind everyone, arms wrapping around both of his girls, his cold hands resting on your stomach. You can feel his breath on your shoulder when he leans his head up against Kie’s. 

“That means you’re the bottom, JJ,” John. B clarifies, and he takes a tiny shell from the sand and throws it back at him before settling back into Pope.

“Pope, give me a massage like a good husband,” JJ says, and Pope moves to squeeze JJ’s shoulders, hard, in a very rough manner.

“Of course, anything for my wife,” he says.

JJ arches his back away from Pope and contorts his face, before crying out in pain.

“That’s… you’d be a terrible massage artist,” JJ says, and you laugh into Popes ear. 

“You mean masseuse?” You clarify, and chuckles are heard from behind you. 

“Shut the fuck up, you knew what I meant,” JJ says, trying to get up, but you grab him by the hips and pressure him back down between Pope’s legs. He’s not really, mad, so it doesn’t take much pressure at all. Your hands hold him by his stomach, but you readjust them over Pope’s shoulders to grind out the knots in JJ’s. 

This is all sweet and nice, until someone yells, “CRAB!”

The five of you scramble up, wiping sand off of your bodies respectively and jumping around, trying to avoid the fake crab John B. was keeled over by, laughing his heart out as the tide came in.

quarantine prompts

and they were q u a r a n t i n e d

oh my god they were quarantined—

hey guys! i figured, hey, we’re all stuck home, we all wanna read some quarantine fics, why not make some quarantine prompts? here’s a prompt for every day i’ve been locked in my house :))) enjoy !!

1. “Wanna go on a walk with me?”

2. “Six feet apart! At all times! What’s wrong with you!?”

3. “It’s allergies I swear—“

4. “Why don’t you go back to your own house before we get stuck together for a month.”

5. “I know a few ways we could keep busy...”

6. “I’ve cleaned this house twice in my life. Both times today. I’m going crazy.”

7. “Oh my god, that’s why there was no traffic near the train station.”

8. “I’m not coming over if you have it, asshole.”

9. “I’m gonna leave it on your doorstep, and then I can wave at you from my car.”

10. “Well if you can’t cook and I can’t cook and we can’t get takeout... how are we supposed to eat?”

11. “Hey I need to ask you a favor... so you know my massage class? It’s online now and I need a body to massage. Will you help me out?”

12. “Will you teach me how to do that? Now you can’t say no, because you don’t have any plans.”

13. “Are you actually going to help or are you just going to sit around going through my photo albums.”

14. “I didn’t MEAN to wake up at 3pm. It just happened.”

15. “I really miss you. How long has it been since I’ve seen you?”

16. “I can’t even storm off! Because I can’t leave this goddamn house!”

17. “Are you sure everything is gonna go back to normal?”

18. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get home. Delta just cut 80% of their flights.”

19. “Pornhub is giving away free premium right now you perv. Get away from me.”

20. “That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re gonna be stuck with each other for the next four weeks.”

21. “They just cancelled classes for the rest of the year.”

22. “Please call out today... I want you to stay with me. I’m scared you’re... I’m scared you might get it.”

23. “No no no no no, I’m not a nose swab person, I hate those fucking things.”

24. “D’you wanna, maybe, I dunno, facetime and have dinner with me later? A quarantine date?”

25. “Oh no, start getting out the dry food and the powder milk guys, it’s basically the apocalypse.”

26. “The news has been really freaking me out lately.”

27. “If I have to go on another walk, I think I might actually lose it.”

28. “Oh. I didn’t know other people lived in this building. I guess you learn things when you’re stuck in your apartment all day.”

29. “I desperately need a haircut. Will you try to cut it for me? Please?”