#also yeah my old man is beautiful on this I can't take my eyes off him

[the-expresidents]

Hiroyuki Sanada as Seiichiro Fukiya in Murder on D Street (Dir. Akio Jissoji, 1998)

#hiroyuki sanada #murder on d street #D-Zaka no Satsujin Jiken #filmedit #film #jmovie #japanese film #movies #edogawa rampo #smoking #1990s #Akio Jissoji #the way he looks at the paintings burning while smoking that cig makes me insane #this movie is one of my faves of all time #the motive for murder is something not quite seen in other movies #also yeah my old man is beautiful on this I can't take my eyes off him #my gifs

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wingwomen

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Wingman episode

"We are your wingwomen for today," Morsa says to the camera attached to the car," This is Pernille Harder. She plays for Denmark. She plays for Chelsea." She smiles at Momma. "I know you pretty well, I can tell you that."

"You do," Momma says," I can introduce you too. Magdalena Eriksson, captain for Chelsea FC. Playing for the Swedish national team, making a lot of tackles on the football pitch but, also, at home sometimes."

Morsa laughs awkwardly. "Oh, okay."

You laugh too and Morsa reaches back to wiggle your leg. "And our little baby," She says," y/n. The future of Sweden."

Momma rolls her eyes as she pulls out of the spot. "Denmark."

"Sweden."

"Denmark."

You giggle again. "I like Arsenal!"

Momma and Morsa both groan and you beam a sunny smile.

"We started off as just friends, playing together for the same team in Sweden," Morsa says during the drive," Pernille asked me if I wanted to take a math course with her and then we studied math. And yeah, the rest is history."

"Momma doesn't like math!" You say from your seat as you make your girl-swan and girl-moose kiss.

"I like math, princesse!"

"Don't teach me math," You say back, sticking out your tongue.

Morsa laughs. "Now the producer wants to hear about the photo."

"The photo."

"The photo, yeah."

Momma smiles. "Which one? The one with us or Princesse? Because both of them kind of blew up."

"Our one first."

"It was taken at the world cup.. Yeah, after the game I kissed you. The picture was taken and we suddenly just had twenty-thousand more followers on Instagram and Twitter. I didn't get it, like, what happened?"

"After that picture," Morsa says," We really became role models. A lot of people were looking at us and were happy to be able to see that people can be open. If you're two girls in love or a girl and a boy or two boys, it doesn't matter, whatever you are. That's the message we wanted to share. It was a complete coincidence that the picture was taken but it ended up becoming a really beautiful thing."

"And the medal picture?"

"The medal picture," Morsa says softly. She turns her head to look at you. "What's the medal picture, princesse?"

"When I was wearing your medal!" You reply with a silly grin," I was very little but you still gave it to me."

"She did," Momma says," We've got that picture framed somewhere in the house. It was very cute."

"I was just making sure she understood how heavy it was," Morsa laughs," For when she wins her own."

"I'm gonna win a World Cup medal!" You insist.

"Of course you are." Morsa presses her finger to her ear to listen to the producer man before turning to Momma again. "Who or what convinced you to join Chelsea? Anyone in particular?"

Momma laughs. "Morsa thinks she's the reason we moved to Chelsea, princesse."

"She is," You say, stubbornly crossing your arms over your chest," Could've stayed at Wolfsburg."

Momma rolls her eyes. "I just think it was just the perfect timing and obviously you were playing on the team."

"It's a little bit of a bonus."

"That's a bonus, yeah. No more bath time duties, no more having to play all the time. You definitely have your uses."

"Morsa plays with me a lot," You cut in," And she does my hair in the morning. It's not always good but she tries."

Morsa turns to look at you in betrayal. "What do you mean it's not always good?!"

You shrug. "Sometimes you tug too hard."

Morsa still looks at you, mouth open wide before she reaches back to tickle your sides. You shriek and try to wiggle away but you're still strapped into your seat so you can't go anywhere.

"Do you have a funny story about the party?" Morsa asks," After winning the league?"

Momma's face lights up. "Ugh, yes!"

Morsa hides in her hands. "Are we really sharing this?"

"Morsa got excited," You say," Because she had a party with the team and forgot that she's too old to party."

"I'm not old!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"You're a Morsa. All Morsa's are old! You're too old to party! You went blergh everywhere!"

Morsa rolls her eyes and looks at the camera. "Because of Covid, because of everything, I hadn't been able to party in over a year. I didn't really know how much I could handle in that evening and..."

"And Morsa threw up in the toilet!"

"And I was taking care of her," Momma says," Like the good girlfriend that I am."

Morsa smiles weakly as you giggle. "Yeah, you had to do girlfriend duties."

"And Millie had to take over babysitting the princesse."

Momma pulls up to the restaurant and you eagerly look out the window, kicking your little legs. It's not often that you get KFC.

"Okay, Pernille," Morsa says," It's time. It's called The Colonel's Quiz." She pulls out a little KFC bucket.. "You can start."

"I'll take the first one."

"And just so you know before we start, Princesse gets to choose a forfeit for the loser so there's a lot at stake, okay?"

"Okay," Momma says," What is my favourite food?"

"I would say..." Morsa thinks for a moment. "Like sushi or Japanese food."

Momma nods. "It's Japanese slash Mexican."

"That's what we had yesterday!" You giggle.

"That's right, princesse. I got one correct answer!"

"Okay, so the next one," Momma says," What is my worst habit?"

"It's you sometimes ask too many questions," Morsa replies.

You think for a moment. "Er...You make me speak English at home!"

Morsa and Momma laugh.

"I said I ask questions before I try to figure it out myself."

"Two points for Morsa!" You announce. You like this game. It's fun.

"How many times did I win player of the year in Denmark? I mean, if you were a really good girlfriend, you actually should know."

"Five times?" Morsa asks, not looking too sure.

"Is that your final answer?"

"No, six times?"

You frown. That doesn't sound right either.

"Is that your final answer?"

"That's my final answer. Is it correct?"

"Yes?"

"Is it correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh my god!" Morsa celebrates

You shake your head. "No," You say," Morsa's wrong. It's seven, I counted all of them at home."

Morsa laughs. "Pernille, the producer says she's right. It's actually seven."

Momma's eyes go wide. "Oh, is it? I thought it was six!"

"Momma's won too many," You say earnestly," 'Cause she can't keep up with how many she has." You shake your head almost in disappointment. When you win prizes when you're older, you're never going to forget how many you've got.

"Two out of three is not bad," Morsa says.

"No."

"Not let's see how well you know me." She picks up the slip of paper. "Who is my favourite music artist slash band?"

"Er..." Momma looks a bit worried. "Leonard Cohen or something."

"It's Lana Del Rey."

"Are you sure?"

"Momma," You say," I think Morsa knows who her favourites are."

Morsa laughs. "Thanks, princesse. Next question, what is my party trick?"

"I know! I know!"

"Let Momma answer."

"Er..." Momma doesn't look like she knows. "You get drunk and you throw up."

"Shut up!"

"Those are bad words, Morsa! You have to put money in the swear jar when we get home!"

"Yeah, I don't know."

"Princesse?"

"Morsa can open a bottle of beer with her teeth!" You say," She's going to teach me when I get all my big teeth!"

"Magda!"

Morsa tries to change the subject quickly. "Zero points for you, Pernille. We already have a winner but let's do the last question just to see if you know me a little bit. Which team did I make my international debut against?"

Momma blows out all of her and you giggle.

Morsa sighs in disappointment. "Oh, okay well...I'm gonna get out of this car now. This is not good."

"I think it is..." Momma thinks for a while. "Ukraine?"

"No."

"Hungary?"

"No. It's France."

Momma sighs.

"The forfeit is yours. Princesse?"

"Er..." You hadn't actually thought of one in advance. "Er...You...You have to order the food in an English accent!"

Momma looks stricken and Morsa laughs, leaning back to give you a high five.

"Princesse..."

"You have to!" You wave a finger at her," 'Cause you got the forfeit! Forfeits aren't meant to be fun!"

"Are you ready to practice your accent?" Morsa teases.

"You have to say please and thank you a lot," You say helpfully.

Momma pulls up to the window and in a shockingly bad accent speaks," I'd like a Twister Wrap and I'd also like a salad, please."

"Is there anything else?"

"Princesse, what do you want?"

"Popcorn chicken! And er...Fruitshoot!"

"What flavour?"

"Apple and blackcurrent!"

"And a kid's popcorn chicken and an apple and blackcurrent fruitshoot," Momma says in her bad accent.

As you pull away from the machine, the car is filled with laughter.

"Yeah," Morsa laughs," I don't know what the hell that was but it was great. It's so funny that you're like a farmer girl from Denmark doing a posh accent."

The laughter keeps going when Momma drives past the window and then tries to take the tray with her.

"If you're going to eat in the car," Morsa says as she passes you your food and drink," Then you can't spill anything."

"I won't!"

"Okay," Morsa says as you start the drive through," We've got another question here. Which of the players from our team would you want to see doing a Wingmen episode?"

"Well," Momma says," The first one I was thinking about is Sam and Erin."

You giggle. "Sam and Erin are very silly. Like clowns!"

"What about Emma Hayes doing an episode?" Morsa offers.

"Yeah that...that wouldn't be quiet," Momma replies.

"Coach Emma talks a lot," You say," She talks and talks and talks-"

"Where are we?"

"-And talks and talks and talks-"

"This is Harry Potter's World."

"-And talks and talks-"

"I don't know. I've never seen it."

You stop your repetition to gasp. "Momma! But we live in England now! That's...That's really bad!"

Momma laughs. "Sorry, princesse. I didn't realise you were this passionate about it. Who even showed you them?"

"Millie did," You say," She's fun. I like Millie."

"Is she your best friend?"

You think for a moment. "Erin and Sam are my friends too and Guro but they're not my best friends."

"Who's your best friend?"

"Jessie! I like Jessie!"

Morsa laughs. "You and Jessie are two peas in a pod. Best friends forever!"

"Jessie's my bestest friend."

Momma unlocks the car and hoists you out. "Home sweet home. I think we've been some good Wingwomen. "

"I mean this was great fun." Morsa gets out too, pressing a kiss to your cheek before smiling at Moma. "I loved you English accent, that's the best thing for me today."

"I liked the food!" You say, stuffing some chips into your mouth.

"We're never going to get her to eat healthy again," Momma laments.

"Enjoy it while you can, princesse," Morsa says," Because you've not getting anymore fast food for a while."

You stick your tongue out at them. "My bestest friend Jessie will buy me some!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[futureman]

his favorite girl, part i

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel agrees to teach you how to play guitar for a college course, but you can't keep your eyes off him long enough to learn. he really likes that.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, guitar teacher!joel, no outbreak, big age gap (reader’s 22, joel’s 56), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, slight dubcon, touching, smut for later chapters, some fluff, mostly angst

word count: 3.3k

a/n: my first chaptered fic! dedicated to joel's fingers! i've been playing guitar a lot more lately so...yeah 🥲 thinking this'll probably be 3 or 4 chapters? as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated! hope y'all enjoyy

Don’t stare at his fingers. Don’t stare at his fingers. He’s doing you a huge favor by teaching you to play guitar in the first place. The least you can do is pay attention and stop staring at his fingers. 

But it’s a lost cause, and you know it, because you’d have no hope of learning without staring at his fingers. 

Even so, you’re convinced he’ll somehow know that’s not the real reason you’re watching them so intently. The way they hop gracefully from fret to fret, strings biting into his well-earned calluses, producing the most beautiful chords that ring out perfectly with every strum. 

It’s a wonder any of that is even possible for him. You don’t mean to knock his talent—he obviously honed his craft through decades of fine-tuning and dedicated practice—but his fingers are just so thick.

With your clumsy, beginner’s touch, you’re constantly fumbling with the strings, unable to press down hard enough or keep your other fingers out of the way for them to vibrate the way they need to. They just sort of…fizzle.

But there’s a finesse to how he plays. It also helps that his guitar is a lot bigger than yours. It's a totally innocuous thought, but it still warms your cheeks a little. A big guitar for a big man. Broad and tall, with those thick, thick fingers—

“Hey, you still with me?” 

You’re not sure when he stopped playing, but you really hope it was right before he said something. Otherwise, he definitely knows exactly what you were thinking about, and that would be humiliating. 

Not a great start to your first guitar lesson, but how were you supposed to know your teacher was going to look like that? When your music theory professor recommended him, he conveniently left that part out, which, whatever, makes sense. But it still would’ve been helpful to know ahead of time.

Joel Miller. 56 years old. Has a ton of experience and takes on very few students, so you should consider yourself lucky. That’s all of the information you were given before you stepped into his house this afternoon, and were greeted by possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He was supposed to be your ticket to an A on your senior thesis. But you’re totally flubbing it.

“Y-yeah, sorry, just got a little distracted,” you laugh awkwardly, wishing you had said anything else but that. You couldn't be any more obvious if you tried. “Won’t happen again, promise.” 

He’s kind enough to pretend you’re not a filthy liar and taps the neck of his guitar to redirect your focus. “S’alright. We’ll just take it from the top. You remember the fingerin' for the first chord?”

You gape at him dumbly for a second. He’s kidding, right? You might as well leave now if he’s going to keep saying fingering with that devastating Southern drawl of his. 

“Um, yeah, I think so,” you sputter, lying for the second time in a row. You're struggling to recall anything from your lesson but, god, you can only remember his fingers, not their placement. With no confidence whatsoever, you press your fingertips down firmly on the three strings you think he showed you. “Here, right?” 

He quirks a brow. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me?” 

Ah, so he’s that kind of teacher. The 'learn the hard way', 'fail on your own until you succeed' type. Well, he’s about to learn that you’re not that kind of student.

“…Telling?” Your voice lilts with even less confidence. He chuckles, nodding at your finger placement.

“Let’s hear it, then,” he says expectantly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you’re about to find out. You strum slowly, and the sound reverberates around the room. 

Wrong. 

His smile widens just a fraction as you grimace, quickly wrapping your hand around the neck of the guitar to stop the horrible noises still playing from it. You look over at him, wincing, but he doesn’t seem frustrated. If anything, he seems patient.

“Not quite,” he shakes his head, moving his instrument out of his lap so he can shift closer to where you’re sitting further down the couch. The cushion dips with his weight, and you tip into him slightly, but he remains completely unfazed. “Lemme show you again—and pay attention this time, alright?”

You start to nod apologetically, but then he throws an arm behind you on the back of the couch, and all hope of retaining whatever he’s about to teach you goes out the window. Instead of showing you on his own guitar, he gestures for you to hold yours up, gently arranging your fingers on the frets.

His fingertips whisper against yours like he’s hesitant to touch you, softly tugging them into place before pressing down, showing you the right amount of pressure to apply. 

They feel just as warm and rough as you’d imagined, dwarfing yours by a long shot, and the realization makes your fingers accidentally twitch out of place. Your eyes dart up to gauge his reaction and lock with his, deep and brown, and very amused. 

“Doin’ alright there?” he teases, and now you know he’s on to you. You try to play it off, blaming it on your inexperience.

“Just haven't gotten used to using those muscles yet," you mumble, moving your hand away from his to flex your fingers. "Not sure I've ever had to stretch them like that before."

 "'m sure ya have. Probably just didn't realize it at the time. That kinda muscle soreness comes from prolonged repetition—repeatin' an action over 'n over," he explains in that syrupy-sweet accent, completely unaware of how his words are affecting you. "Bet ya use those fingers for a lot'a different things every day, just nothin' long or strenuous enough to leave you achin'."

You bite your lip to keep from reacting. He has to know what he's doing right now. How he sounds. This conversation is starting to veer into dangerous territory, but the weird thing about it is that he genuinely doesn't seem to realize that everything he's saying has a double meaning. To you, at least. You knew all this fingering talk was going to get you into trouble. 

"Uhh, yeah," you agree, side-stepping that line of thought to bring yourself back to the lesson, but it's getting harder to stay focused. "I guess I just thought playing would mostly be memorization, but there's a lot of physicality to it, too, huh?" 

"Yeah, s'pose that's true," he muses, looking down at the calluses on his own hand. This time you refuse to take the bait, your breathing already too shallow, heart nearly pounding out of your chest with how close he's sitting. But he’s still completely calm and collected. "Your hand hurtin' a lot right now?"

You shrug, inspecting your reddening fingertips. "Kinda, yeah."

"It's like that in the beginnin’," he says kindly. "But the more ya play, the tougher the skin gets, and ya won't feel it as much." 

He surprises you by taking your hand again, massaging the tender skin between his thumb and index fingers. God, that feels so much better already. The heat of his fingertips seeps into yours, soothing the painful indents left by the unforgiving strings, and you let out a breathy sigh of relief. 

You feel his entire body tense palpably next to you. It might be your imagination or just wishful thinking, but you swear you can feel his warmth radiating into your side, somehow even closer than before. Your brain’s starting to fizzle more than the sound of your shitty guitar playing, and the room feels a little hotter. Hazier, like a daydream.

"That feel good?" he murmurs, lips practically brushing the shell of your ear.

Definitely closer.

“Y-yeah, feels nice…really nice,” you stutter, voice lowering almost to a whisper as if you were sharing a secret. “The, um—the rest of my hand is a little sore, too. Is that normal?”

You can feel him grinning at your obvious attempt to get him to keep touching you, and he gives in easily. Surprisingly so, and it's becoming clearer that he's as into whatever's happening right now as you are. You’re not sure what happened to the unfazed man from before, but you’ll happily welcome this change in demeanor.

“Yeah, s’normal,” he trails down to your palm, engulfing your hand with his own. “Don’t worry, I'll take care of ya.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his thigh presses into yours, and the arm behind you lowers around your shoulders, his hand skimming the side of your neck. Shit, what is going on? You’re pretty sure guitar lessons don’t usually go like this, but you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. Not when he feels this good.

Everywhere his skin touches yours feels electric, sending jolts up your spine, and making you forget where you are and what you were doing in the first place. He ducks down to press his lips to your bare shoulder, and your mind goes completely blank. 

All that's left is...sensation. Something dragging roughly across your skin, then soft—a little chapped—and wet. Sharp. You're abruptly aware of him sucking a hard bruise at the crook of your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, and you're unable to stop the whimper that escapes your lips. It's soft and inappropriate. A single, hushed syllable.

"Joel."

He lets out a pained groan that rumbles from deep within his chest, and the hand around yours tenses. That boundless patience he had earlier feels like it's about to run out, and the thought makes your blood run hot. 

God, how is he real? How is this real? You just met this man—this much, much older man—less than an hour ago, and, yet, this is probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you. He continues to mouth up your neck, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

"What else hurts? Tell me, 'n I'll make it better," he mutters humidly, urgently against your skin. 

You want to tell him where it hurts the most. That unbearable ache between your legs, the burning in your belly that you didn't even realize he was stoking. But you're so wound up, all you can manage is a frustrated sob.

"Use your words, beautiful. C'mon, lemme hear 'em," he says as if you're his instrument, meant to produce dulcet tones and resonate at his hand.

"It—fuck...it—here," you drag the hand clutching yours down, next to where the body of your guitar rests on your thigh. Where you've already soaked through the thin fabric of your pants. "Joel...need you to make it better."

The gentle vibrato of your voice, the way it shakes tumultuously around his name, and even more so when he cups your heat. His lips return to your throat to feel it, to taste it as you moan for him. And those fingers. You knew they’d feel good, and they’re so close to where you need them. Just a little bit more—but there’s still too many layers between you and his rough touch. 

“M-more…need more, just—,” you whine, and he mirrors the sound back at you raggedly.

“‘Course, beautiful. Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I? 

You're too far gone to even notice yourself desperately grinding into the palm of his hand, or the fingers at your cheek turning your face toward his. 

Or your guitar quickly slipping out of your lap, more and more with each swivel of your hips. It hits the carpet with a hollow clang and, suddenly, the spell is broken. Then, it all comes crashing back. 

He’s saying your name, but he sounds...different. Less breathy, less needy, and more like your patient, collected guitar teacher. Joel Miller. 56 years old, remember? Way too old for you, for your body to be reacting to him like this, and the man whose help you still desperately need to help complete your thesis.

Your eyes snap open and you realize with abject horror that you’ve been daydreaming this entire time. You can’t even imagine how long he’s been trying to get your attention while you’ve just been sitting here, fantasizing about his hands on you. 

Not even ten minutes ago, you promised you wouldn’t get distracted, but you did. Again. And so much worse this time.

By his furrowed brow and the way he won’t even look at you, you must have accidentally said something out loud, too. Something totally inappropriate that you really shouldn’t have. But then, his hand twitches and your blood turns to ice. 

That—fuck, that's not where it was before you zoned out. It was still on yours, arranging your fingers on the frets for the chord he was teaching you. He…he was asking about your hand, if it hurt, and then—

As if you’ve been burned, you quickly release his hand from where you’re clutching it between your legs—not just in your daydream, but in horrifying actuality. You’re screwed. 

Not only is he probably going to kick you out of his house and refuse to be your teacher anymore, but he’ll likely tell your professor. And he’d have every right to. There’s no way you’ll be able to get anyone else to teach you after this.

The reason you’re here, everything you’ve worked so hard for, flashes before your eyes, catching fire and turning to ash. Your love for music, your degree—in the span of a single guitar lesson, you destroyed all of it.

And what would he think? Your father, your inspiration for choosing this path. He’d be so disappointed in you, though maybe not as much as you are right now. 

All of this for what? The attractive, middle-aged guitar teacher you’ve known for less than an hour? He doesn’t even want you and, even if he did, that’s not what you came here for. Stupid, stupid. 

You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bear to look at him, to say anything at all. Instead, you lean down to retrieve your guitar from where it still lies face down on the floor, and slowly stand up. 

“I, uh…,” you croak out, fighting the urge to cry and look like even more of an idiot. You shake your head, unable to finish your sentence, and start to walk away, but then something miraculous happens.

Joel’s hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to keep you from leaving. You turn back to him, eyebrows raised in shock, dropping your gaze to where his skin is touching yours. He doesn't let go. 

“Look—,” he starts, and you wince. It’s never a good sign when someone starts a sentence like that. If all he’s trying to do is let you down easy, he shouldn’t have stopped you. He’s just shaming you even further. “—‘m not too sure what just happened here, but if you just—if ya sit back down, we can talk about it or…just keep goin’ with the lesson…”

You didn’t see that one coming. 

“You want me to stay?” you ask dubiously. “Why?”

You search his eyes for the answers to all of the things you’re not understanding, but come up with nothing. He’s sitting on the couch watching you, still holding your hand like nothing’s wrong. Acting like none of this is a big deal, as if you didn’t basically just shove his hand down your pants without his consent.

“Still got a lot to teach ya. We didn’t even get through the first line of music,” he chuckles, his voice filled with such kindness. So much more than you deserve. 

“Yeah, and that’s my fault. I—,” you pause, still trying to gather your thoughts, “—I crossed a line…made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to do this.”

He sighs, rubbing his thumb soothingly into your wrist, and the gesture makes you shiver. Somehow it’s calming, even as the gears continue to turn in your head. You still can’t seem to grasp any of this or shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with this picture. 

“Well, isn’t this supposed to be a favor for some big, important grade? Don’t ya need this to pass your class?”

He’s not wrong. Without his help, you’re basically fucked for the rest of the semester.

“Yeah, I...actually really do,” you answer hesitantly.

Hope blooms in your chest. Maybe your thesis isn’t totally lost. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even be able to focus on your lessons.

“I think we can keep this professional. Don’t you?” he implores, brows raised.

He’s right again. That’s the only way this is going to work, but it’s still a reminder that he’s not interested in you in the slightest. You’re not sure why that feels so bad.

“Totally,” you breathe out, but your expression must betray your words because he rushes to reassure you.

“It’s not that I—look, I mean…you’re a beautiful girl ‘n all, but…,” he trails off, and…what?

Beautiful. He can’t have just said that out of the blue. Beautiful, of all the words he could’ve used to describe you right then. This man is driving you crazy—and he won’t stop.

“Can’t help feelin’ like maybe I gave ya the wrong impression. I took advantage of ya,” he looks away, pained, like this was all his fault. You have no idea how he came to that conclusion, but he’s got it all wrong.

“What—no. No, if anything, I took advantage of you. You were just trying to be a good teacher,” you shake your head furiously. “Look, I did this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t pull away, now, did I?” 

His eyes meet yours again, darker than before, and you know for a fact you’re not making it up this time. The setting sun is casting shadows around his living room, across his 80s-style leather couch and carpet, illuminating every one of his handsome features. 

And, yet, his eyes are black, endless voids that threaten to consume you. Whatever power he has over you feels dangerous. You knew you couldn’t have imagined it all. 

But it's gone as quickly as it came. He clears his throat, dropping your wrist as if he finally came to his senses. Your patient, unaffected guitar teacher is back.

“I, uh, think maybe that about wraps it up for today,” he says with finality, standing up. “It's already eight, anyhow. You should head on home.”

Gently plucking the guitar from your hands, he zips it up in its case and gives it back to you. You nod, feeling grateful, but cautious...and also extremely curious. His hand finds the small of your back, leading you to the front door, and you try your best not to react as his fingers urge you forward. 

You know you’ll be thinking about them later tonight, even though you really shouldn’t. About them finishing what you started earlier, taking care of you like you still want him to. Part of you hopes he’ll be thinking about yours, too. 

His hand drops and he turns to you with a small smile, leaning on his arm against the doorframe. 

"But, uh, same time tomorrow? And maybe put in a little practice time before then—stretch out those fingers so you're ready to play."

“Sure,” you reply breathily. “Same time tomorrow.”

thanks for reading! part ii coming soon 🥰

(p.s. how are we feeling about finger sucking...okay bye)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

[watermelonlovershigh]

i seen a trend online where the girl pretends to have a tampon stuck in her and asks her boyfriend if he's get it out. do you think you could write something like that with harry in it?

-🌼

TikTok Prank on Harry /blurb/

AN: i think that trend is very telling on what kind of partner these women have lol. love that trend but some of them i feel are staged. anyways i hope you enjoyed this and make sure to leave your feedback.

This story contains: mentions of a stuck tampon, mentions of blood, fluff, inuidos of sex at the end

{ husband!harry - softrry - no kids - current harry era }

word count: 662

You decide to do the viral tiktok trend on Harry where you tell him you got your tampon stuck and need his help removing it to see his reaction.

"Harry," you call from the bathroom, "can you come here for a second?" You'd seen this trend on TikTok where these women were pranking their boyfriends or husbands into thinking they got a tampon stuck inside of them to see if their partner would help them retrieve it or not. So of course you had to try this prank out on your husband.

A minute later the bathroom door creaks open and Harry asks, "Yeah?" once he steps fully inside. His view is of you wrapped in a towel, sitting on the closed toilet seat because you were about to take a shower. He thinks you look beautiful right now, but you'd be even more beautiful without that white fluffy towel you have wrapped around your torso.

Looking up innocently at your sweet, sweet husband, you fib, "So um, I kinda have a problem. You see, before my shower I was gonna remove my old tampon but I can't find it."

Harry looks at you with a confused expression. "What'd you mean you can't find it?"

Dragging the lie on, you continue, "The string, Harry. I went to pull it out but the string is gone. It must have went up too far inside me or something."

Now looking concerned, Harry starts, "So...." He's still slightly confused as to what you're needing him to do about your situation.

Huffing out of fake annoyance, you finally ask, "Can you help me? Like see if you can pull it out?" You're not gonna lie, you are kind of scared to know his reaction. He could be one of the sweet and generous partners you see in those videos where he's fully up for helping. Or he could be one of those partners who is disgusted by the idea of helping with that problem.

Without second thoughts, Harry steps closer to you and says, "Oh yeah, of course. Just gonna need you to tell me how far I need to reach my fingers up there." Okay, its confirmed. You did marry the perfect man. He begins to kneel in front of you and pulls his right sleeve up because he really thinks he's needing to help fish out your bloody tampon.

"Baby, baby, baby." you repeat over and over again, looking down with love in your eyes. You've got to stop the lie before it goes too far.

"What? M'gonna help you but you're gonna need to drop the towel and spread your legs." Though it sounds dirty out of context, you know Harry meant that with pure and innocent intent.

You reach forward and place your hands on his shoulders. "Baby, I was kidding. It was a prank. I don't actually have a tampon stuck inside me. I just wanted to tell you that to see if you'd actually help me if I really did have one stuck or not."

Relief washes over Harry's features because though he'd help you in a flash, he also wasn't excited about having to pull out your lost, bloody tampon. "Well of course I would've helped, love. How else would you've gotten it out, besides a trip to the doctors. I'd do anything for you."

You lean over and press a kiss to his lips which accidently makes your towel fall off your body. Harry grabs your hips to stabilize his squatting position and once the kiss turns into something more heated, you pull away and request, "Come get in the shower with me. I'm not actually on my period either."

Without much thinking, Harry quickly stands up and starts to shed his clothes off. He's never gonna pass up the offer of showering with his wife. "My love, I would have gotten in the shower with you even if you were on your period, you know." And when he's fully naked, you stand up from the toilet seat and walk hand in hand into the walk-in shower where your heated kisses continue and much, much more begins.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #husband!harry #husbandrry #soft!harry #softrry #harry x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #harry styles tiktok prank #tiktok prank #harry styles blurb #blurb

[partycatty]

we back with another request⁉️

can be old or young (mk11 or mk1) johnny your pick, but what if fem!reader and johnny are sparring (likely in private, but if they wanna be risky go ahead) and reader is losing.

sooo, she flashes him her titties as a distraction and ends up getting him pinned. you can turn it into smut or end it there, your pick

love your writing 💙💙

DEAR GOD YOURE SO FUCKING RIGHT ALL THE TIME ILY, i had a SLIIIIGHTLY different image for this so HEAR ME OUT

johnny cage > eyes on the prize

warnings: Oh, these? My boobies? My massive fucking titties? My super stuffed milkies? My honker bonker doinky boinkies? My fucking fabric stretching wind flapping gravity welling sex mounds? You mean these super duper ultra hyper god damn motherfucking tits?

[ part 2 ] [ masterlist ]

after the time merger, your boss seems uneasy seeing his younger self parade around the compound like he owns the place. you're unfortunately put up to the task as babysitting him.

"private," the older counterpart summons you to the center of the room. "keep an eye on him for me, yeah? he's... well, he's me, and i don't trust him one bit." you both glance over to younger johnny, who is kicking his feet up and browsing IMDB - his own page, to be specific - with no regard for authority. you nod and walk off, approaching the younger star who doesn't notice you at first.

"mr. cage," you try to get his attention, leaning down to his level as he sits. johnny tears his eyes away from the screen to catch a good look at you in your uniform, pulling his sunglasses down his hooked nose. "captain cage requested i accompany you around the compound for safety as the time merge is figured out."

"oh, i'll follow you anywhere, beautiful," he replies smoothly, clicking and winking up at you. your face heats up, this is your... almost-boss. this version wasn't with sonya, doesn't have a kid. a part of you wonders if your present johnny also finds you attractive if this is how his younger version behaves. you'd always found him hot, but that was something you kept to yourself for the sake of his family and your career.

johnny snaps in your face with a twisted expression. "hey, since you're here, the future sucks! i've been here for an hour and i haven't seen one jetpack. not one!" he holds a finger in your face, and you can't help but stare down at him in bewilderment. how did this man become the captain of the special forces??

his complaints sprout an idea, as you try to divert his annoyance. "the special forces compound contains plenty of advanced technology. would you care for a tour?" you suggest politely, gesturing out of the room.

johnny seems intrigued by your offer, willing to follow you around like a dog if it meant getting a good view of your ass the whole way. it's your figure that intrigues him the most.

"older me was a dumbass for not tappin' this," johnny very loudly exclaims as you two walk down a hallway, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "i might have to alter my destiny... there's no way you fight with a pretty body like that."

"the members of S.F. are put through extensive physical training and discipline. i can fight, mr. cage," you reply curtly, not all too impressed by his catcalling, though his boldness amuses you.

"yeah?" he asks playfully, jogging in front of you to walk backwards as he glares at you through his shades. "care to prove it? you lose, you give me your number."

"and if you lose?" you question, crossing your arms.

"then i give you my number." jesus, he was dumb. hot, but dumb. it was impossibly hard to remain professional in front of him. you entertain his bait and open a side door that led to the garage. it was spacious and full of various tools, vehicles and weapons. the crew often met there for mass debriefs and announcements, but served as a perfect sparring location.

"you're on, dollface," johnny sneers, readying himself with an overdramatic flourished war cry. "but first, no handicaps. take all that off." he waves at your vest and various equipment strapped to you. you shake your head and sigh, readying your own pose after shrugging the extremities off and kicking them to the side. it was johnny in his coat giving you a delicious view of his chest, and you in your skin-tight underclothes. you figured regardless you'd have an advantage against johnny considering you were familiar with his fighting style, but his strength outmatched you easily. he was twice your size in muscle, after all. didn't really matter just how much studying you put into his mannerisms in combat.

his powers proved to be a significant advantage as well, doubling his strikes when most humans could only land one in the time it took. each punch you threw was parried embarrassingly easily, and each kick was matched with an even swifter swing.

despite being military trained, you couldn't help but find the fight fun. johnny would grab hold of you and spin you around, as if you were dancing, or flash one of his signature smiles at you when he felt more in charge. he'd cackle when you made a fool of yourself, swinging at nothing.

one of his backflip kicks infused with his powers knocked you straight on your ass, and johnny towers over you with a devilish grin. his legs are spread, with you on the floor between them as you catch your breath.

"do you yield, sweet thing?" he asks, bending forward to hover his face over yours. you cringe, holding your side as you try to get up, but johnny just places his boot on your chest. "you were all bark and no bite, sweetheart."

as you regain your composure, thoroughly displeased with the outcome of the battle, you get an absolutely evil idea.

"how about you get a bite of these?" you ask, smirking. your fingers find the hem of your shirt and pull upward, revealing your bra and your breasts spilling from the fabric as you lay on your back. the chill of the room defines the shape of your nipples through the bra, and johnny's eyes fixate - hard. his sunglasses comically slide down his nose and clatter to the floor, his puppy eyes wide and wanting at the sight of your barely clothed chest.

when you know for a fact he's transfixed, you swat his foot off of your chest and curl your body before placing a hard upward kick into his balls, making him yell out and stumble backward.

you stand up and brush yourself off, beaming at the actor for besting him at his own shallow game.

"you - ngh -" johnny whines and clutches his crotch, pointing a finger at you accusingly. "i yield."

you shrug innocently, reaching a hand out to him considering your positions were now fully swapped. "gotta keep your eyes on the prize, cage."

you hoist him up with a grunt, patting his shoulder.

"oh, believe me," he breathlessly chuckles. "i was." he smiles crookedly.

...did you just flash your soon-to-be-boss? is this gonna alter the timeline...?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk11 #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat 11 x reader #marley writes ☆

[average-dilf-enjoyer]

KINKTOBER

Day 5: Virginity + Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), PIV sex, fingering, lots of pet names, insecure reader, pre-outbreak Joel

A/N: Sorry I've been late with writing! I had really busy few days. When I get the time I'm gonna do multiple fics in one day over a couple of days to catch up, just bear with me for a week or so while I get back on schedule

——————————————————————————

You didn’t know what the hell you were thinking, letting Joel take you to his place. It was a terrible idea, really. Because you knew you wouldn't be able to stop once you started.

But you let him drag you inside anyways. You let him push you up against the door and kiss you hard and deep, and you nodded when he pulled away to whisper, "Is this okay?" because as much as it terrified you, you fucking needed Joel Miller.

You also didn't protest when Joel brought you to his bedroom, laying you down on his sheets and kissing you over and over again.

"Joel," you whispered against his lips, trying to get his attention. He didn't answer, just kept pressing kisses to your lips. "Joel," you mumbled again. Another kiss. You pressed your hands into his chest, pushing him off you. "Joel."

"Yeah, baby?" he cooed, cupping your face in his hand and swiping his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.

"I need to tell you something, but you gotta promise not to laugh," you muttered nervously. What if he thought you were weird?

"Can't promise that if I don't know what it is," he said, that gorgeous smile of his on full display. "But I'll try my best, honey." He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the space below your ear. "What's on your mind?"

"Um..." Stupid. It was fucking stupid. Twenty-six years old, and you were still a virgin. The whole thing was so dumb. You'd had boyfriends before Joel, and you easily could have lost your virginity to any of them, but you didn't want to. You were scared, to be honest. Not to say that you weren't still fucking terrified, but you had a feeling Joel would be good to you. "I... damn it."

"Take your time, honey..." Joel murmured, lightly kissing at your neck and rubbing your sides in a soothing motion.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and then blurted it out before you could think about it any more. "I'm a virgin."

Joel immediately lifted his head to look you in the eyes. He could see the fear in them, and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. "Oh, honey," he sighed. "You should've told me sooner, I would've taken things slower. We can stop if you want. Don't gotta go any further if you ain't ready."

"No, no, I want to," you assured him. You really did, as much as it scared you. If anyone was going to take your virginity, you wanted it to be Joel.

"You sure, darlin'?" he asked, concerned. "We don't need to do anything toni-"

You cut him off with a kiss. "I want it. I want you," you whispered. "Please, Joel."

Joel groaned, kissing your jaw. "Fuck, honey. Gonna be the death of me, I swear." His hands moved to the hem of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"

You nodded. "Yeah." You'd never done this before, let a man see you like this. And even though you wanted Joel to see, you were still nervous. Insecurity flooded you, suddenly all too aware of each of your flaws.

Joel seemed to sense your nervousness, because he stopped. "You alright there, honey?"

You sighed. "Yeah, just... never done this before, y'know?"

Joel nodded. "You don't gotta be nervous, I gotcha. You just relax."

"Okay," you mumbled. You had to remind yourself that this was Joel. The man that didn't kiss you on the first date out of respect. The man who made time for you even if he had a long day at work. The man who told you how beautiful you were every time he saw you.

"Okay," Joel agreed with a soft smile. "You wanna leave the shirt on, then? Don't gotta show me, but let me tell ya sugar, I'd fuckin' love to see what's hidin' under it."

You shook your head. "No, you- you can, I want you to.”

“Alright. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything I do, okay?” he asked as his fingers began pulling your shirt up your lower stomach.

“I will,” you breathed, lifting your arms to help him slide the shirt over your head.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed, his hands moving to your now bare torso, rubbing his hands along the skin. “Shit, you’re gorgeous, honey.”

“Joel…” you giggled, squirming as his hands brushed along your sensitive skin. “That tickles.”

“Oh yeah?” he growled playfully, his hands purposefully tickling you now.

You laughed and smacked his hands away. “Joel!”

“Alright, I’ll stop. But only ‘cause I like ya,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Can I take off your bra? Wanna see your beautiful tits.”

“You haven’t seen them yet, how do you know they’re beautiful?” you quipped.

“Because every part of you is beautiful, baby,” Joel whispered, and you just about melted on the spot. He was so sweet, so gentle, so Joel, and you could barely handle it.

“Honey…” you breathed. “Please. I want you to see me. I trust you.” And you did. You trusted him more than you had ever trusted any other man. You trusted him with this precious part of yourself nobody else had ever had the privilege of seeing before. You trusted him to take your virginity.

“I told you, I gotcha. You don’t gotta worry about a thing when you’re in my bed, you got that?” Joel said as he unclasped your bra, gently sliding it off your arms and discarding it on the floor with your shirt.

“I know,” you agreed with a nod of your head. “You got me.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Joel breathed, completely in awe of you. “So fuckin’ perfect. I don’t deserve ya, I really don’t.”

You giggled. “Are you kidding? I don’t deserve you. You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“Darlin’ you deserve every good thing in this world and then some,” Joel sighed, his hands moving to rest just below your breasts. “Can I..?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes.” You had never wanted so badly for a man to touch you until now. You felt like you would explode if you had to wait even another minute.

His hands gently, tentatively rested over your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your hardened nipples. “So soft…” he murmured, lightly squeezing them. He smiled when you sucked in a sharp breath. “Doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Feels good.” He was so gentle with you, soft and sweet as his hands kneaded at your chest. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he assured you, moving to kiss at your shoulder. “‘M gonna try somethin’, tell me if it feels good.”

“Okay,” you breathed, waiting for whatever he was planning for you with bated breath. You couldn’t imagine that whatever he was about to do wouldn’t feel good. You were quickly proven right when Joel took one of your nipples between his fingers and lightly pinched it. “Oh, fuck-“

“Good?” He mumbled, his mouth never leaving your skin.

“Very. Do it again,” you insisted, and he huffed a laugh against your shoulder.

“As you wish, darlin’.” One of his hands continued to play with your nipple while the other drifted from your breast to your hip, holding you to him while he toyed with you.

“Shit,” you panted, tingles of pleasure coursing through you. “Joel, oh my God.”

“I had a feelin’ you’d like that,” he whispered, his kisses moving from your shoulder, down, down-

“Fuck!” you yelped when he pulled your other breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive skin. “Feels so good, Joel, don’t stop,” you begged, running one hand through his hair while the other grasped at the bedsheets.

And he didn’t. He sucked and licked and touched and didn’t stop for one moment, playing with your body and pulling sounds you didn’t even know you could make from your mouth.

"Wanna see what's under these jeans,” he begged, and you took his hand and guided it to the waistband of your pants.

“Please,” you whispered, sounding almost embarrassingly needy, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to worry about that when he was touching you like this.

His hands eagerly pulled at the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down along with your panties. He had to have you, he couldn’t fucking wait any longer. “Fuuuck…” he groaned, his eyes drinking you in as you laid completely bare under him. “Gotta taste you, baby. Will ya let me? Let me lick your pretty pussy till you’re comin’ on my face?”

You swore you nearly came right then. “Yes, fuck, whatever you want, honey,” you panted as he kissed down your body, stopping just below your belly button.

“You sure?” he rasped against your skin. One last chance to back out.

“Yes. I need you, please, Joel.” You were desperate, clenching around nothing.

He positioned himself right between your legs, looking directly at your bare heat. "Y'know, I think it's kinda hot that you're a virgin, if ya don't mind me sayin'," Joel mused as his hands grasped your hips, tugging you closer.

"Why?" How could he possibly find that attractive? A whole-ass adult woman who's never been laid? What was hot about that?

"Because, darlin', I get to be the first one to see how beautiful you look when you come, and I get to be the first to touch this pretty pussy," Joel explained, kissing your inner thighs. "Pretty goddamn special, bein' a woman's first."

"Oh," you breathed, lost for words.

"Yeah," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

You gasped, bucking into his touch. “Oh my God,” you whined.

Hearing you whimper like that, Joel had to restrain himself from completely devouring you. ‘Go slow,’ he reminded himself as he licked a stripe up your slit. “Taste like fuckin’ candy, sweetheart,” he groaned, kitten licking at your clit.

You fisted your hand in his hair, lightly tugging on it, and he let out a low grumble of approval. Of course he liked getting his hair pulled.

“Just like that, fuck,” you moaned as he circled your clit with his tongue.

He continued like that, driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment. He ate you like a man starved, his eyes never leaving you as he took in your reactions to what he was doing, learning what you liked best.

"F-fingers. Please," you whimpered, and he obliged without hesitation, sliding his middle finger into you.

His ring finger followed not long after, pumping in and out of you. Oh God, his fingers were so much longer, so much thicker than yours. He started slow as he let you get used to the feeling, but he quickly sped up, relishing in your moans as he crooked his fingers into you, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars.

"J-Joel, I'm gonna come," you managed to get out between pants, the feeling of his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside you overwhelming in the best way possible.

"Go ahead, honey, I wanna feel it," he groaned, his movements not letting up for even a moment as he brought you closer and closer to your release.

A moment later he had you coming on his tongue just he had promised, licking up your release as your thighs trembled around his head. “Holy shit,” you gasped, affectionately running your hand through his hair as he finally took his mouth off your pussy, instead settling for kissing your inner thighs as you came down from your high.

“Good?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“Amazing,” you corrected him as you bent forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned softly into his mouth as he laid you back, once again climbing on top of you.

"Good to hear," he said gently, running his hand down your body from your chest to your pussy, running a finger through your slick folds. "You gonna let me fuck ya, honey?"

"Yeah." You couldn't wait any longer, any fear you might have felt overwhelmed by lust and need.

He nodded, grabbing a condom from his bedside drawer and sliding it over himself. “Okay. You tell me if you need me to stop, you got it?"

"I know. Just... please, Joel."

And, well, how could he resist that?

"Gonna go nice and slow, alright pretty girl?" he mumbled as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," you assured him, leaning up to kiss him.

He kissed you back sweetly, gently grasping your hips for leverage and slowly pushing the tip of him into you.

You whimpered against his lips at the burn of him stretching you open in a way you never had been before.

"I know, baby," he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. "You're doin' good. Doin' so good, honey."

"Ow," you hissed as he pushed deeper, ever so slowly.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, his eyes not leaving yours as he gauged your response.

You shook your head. "No, just... keep going slow."

“Okay.”

After a minute of pushing slightly into you, stopping when you dared make a noise to check that you were still doing okay, and then moving a little more, he was finally fully sheathed within you. And it felt fucking incredible.

“Oh, Joel…” you moaned. You felt full in a way you never had before, feeling like you could barely breathe as you adjusted to Joel’s cock inside you.

“Pretty girl…” he whispered, brushing his hand across your cheek. “You feel so good. Fit me like a goddamn glove.”

You giggled and leaned up to kiss him, running a hand through his hair. “Move,” you insisted, needing more of him.

He only hummed in response, his lips staying latched onto yours as he pulled out almost entirely and slowly pushed back into you. He just repeated that for a while, letting you get used to it all, and eventually the burn faded. You bucked your hips forward. “More, Joel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, his thrusts picking up speed as he pulled away from your lips to look you in the eyes.

“Baby,” he gasped, his brows furrowing in concentration. “Tell me, s’it feel good? Am I makin’ my girl feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sugar,” he grunted, pressing deep into you and slowing his pace to a roll of his hips, and it had you seeing stars. “Won’t stop until you’re comin’ all over me.”

Joel held true to his word, never letting up as you writhed and whimpered under him, that familiar knot of pleasure building inside you.

“Joel- fuck, need your fingers.” You were so close. His fingers on your clit would have you coming undone around him in seconds.

He answered with a low groan, his hand reaching down to rub tight circles onto your clit.

“Oh, fuck!” You were nearly shouting now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your head fell to the side, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Shit, you’re squeezin’ me, honey. You gonna come?”

You nodded eagerly, grasping at his shoulders.

“Look at me, wanna see that pretty face when ya come,” Joel cooed, cupping your face in his hand.

You met his desperate, hungry gaze and that was all you needed to fall over the edge, moaning his name as pleasure overcame you.

He fucked you through it until he couldn’t anymore, seating himself deep inside you as he came a moment later.

You gazed at each other silently as you came down from your highs, sweaty and sated. You stayed like that for a moment before he pulled out of you, discarding the condom in the garbage.

“How’re you feelin’ sweet girl?” Joel finally asked.

“Incredible,” you sighed, your body relaxing into the mattress.

Joel crawled back into bed, leaning in to kiss you. “Glad it was good for you.”

“Of course it was good,” you whispered, running a hand along his chest. “And for the record, you’re amazing at oral,” you added.

He chuckled. “Why, thank you, sugar.”

You were asleep not ten minutes later, and as Joel looked down at your sleeping figure, he felt peace for the first time in years.

#joel miller #fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #smut fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #virginity kink

[fallatyourfeet]

Swanky Suits (Arthur x Female Reader)

One Shot

Credit to Gif creator- sorry I don't know who you are

Summary: Arthur is taken completely by surprise after being sent by Ada to get a new suit

Word count: 1322

Warnings: Awkward adorable Arthur. He gets a bit nervous and anxious.

Author's Note: This was only supposed to be around 500-700 words. Big fail. Also, can't believe I've posted two fics in a week. What the hell is happening to me.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

This place seemed far too swanky for Arthur, he felt completely out of place, but Ada had insisted he come. “Trust me Arthur, they’re the best tailors in London… you won’t be disappointed.” Looking at himself in the mirror out front of the change room, he had to agree. The pants and shirt were the nicest things he had ever worn, and he hadn’t even tried on the jacket yet. But still, no matter how much money he had lining his pockets, this place just felt a little too fancy for a boy from Small Heath. Maybe Tommy could get away with it, but him? Not a chance.

Walking up behind him, jacket in hand, came the attendant who helped him with his fittings last week, his posh London accent and manner doing nothing to ease Arthur’s inner monologue. Walking in a circle around him, he looked him up and down and nodded, quite pleased with himself, “The shirt and pants are a perfect fit, they won’t need any alterations at all.”

Moving behind him, he held open the jacket so Arthur could put his arms in and slipped it up over his shoulders. Then walking back around, he adjusted the lapels and buttoned it up, before stepping back, looking slightly disappointed, “The jacket is going to need some tweaking.” Placing a finger to his chin, the attendant sighed with thought. “It doesn’t need much… I might get our seamstress to have a look, she’s out the back. Otherwise, our tailor’s back tomorrow if you want to wait.” Unsure how to gauge Arthur’s expression, he added, “She’s very good… you won’t be disappointed.”

Arthur sniffed, visibly rolling his eyes as he adjusted the jacket, had this guy been talking to Ada? Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, “Yeah, alright, let her ‘ave a look.”

The attendant disappeared out back, leaving him in front of the mirror, and he couldn’t help but admire the cut and feel of the fabric. Arthur knew he was hardly posh and refined like ninety nine percent of the shops cliental, but he knew a bloody good suit when he saw one. And this was one of the best.

Moving to the edge of the store counter, he was flicking through a collection of swatches, taken completely off guard when to the side of him, someone spoke, “Arthur? ….. Arthur Shelby?”

An oddly familiar voice which Arthur couldn’t quite place, spoke his name. A voice from his childhood, only much more mature than he remembered. The edges to the Birmingham accent were a little softer, the volume somehow fuller, richer. A voice smoother than honey. ‘Hmmm’, he thought quite innocently, ‘a man could get used to a sound like that.’

Turning towards the voice, he almost jumped when he saw you. Dropping the swatches to the ground his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, standing straight as an arrow like a naughty child being caught in an act of mischief. He recognised you straight away. Even if he were an eighty-year-old man that hadn’t seen you in sixty years, he’d still know exactly who you were. His childhood crush. The girl who made his heart fly whenever she was near. The girl to which no other could compare. The girl he wanted to grow up and marry… And the girl who up and moved to London with her family when he was barely fifteen. Moved before he even found the courage to ask her out.

Arthur spoke your name, “YN?” It was almost a whisper. ‘Fuckin hell,’ he thought, you were even more beautiful than he remembered.

You smiled in response, and if his cheeks were pink before, they must be bright scarlet by now. Not sure what to do or say, he fumbled over his words, before blurting out, “You… you’re the seamstress?”

Lifting your hands, you laughed a little, waving the measuring tape and pin cushion they held, “I am… and these are the weapons of my trade.” Moving towards him, you placed them down on the counter, taking in every inch of his face, turning his poor scarlet cheeks crimson. “It’s good to see you, Arthur. My goodness, it must be what…? Twenty years?”

You moved even closer. Slipping your hands inside his jacket you went about your work, pinning together the alterations when your hand brushed against his side. It almost made him freeze, and he thanked God that it wasn’t his pants that needed altering, your close proximity making it hard for him to think. But somehow, he managed, “Uh, yeah. It’s been exactly twenty years.”

Looking up at him, you smiled the sweetest smile, your eyes looking strangely humbled that he knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. And it did nothing to ease the building flutters in his chest. He was a grown man, and a few minutes in your presence had him acting like an awkward teenager again. Arthur’s thoughts were a mess, scrambling to find something else to say, “So, ah, how long you been workin’ here?”

Biting your lip, you looked at the ring on your finger, before answering, sadness gathering in your eyes and voice, “Since my husband left for France.”

Arthur wanted to kick himself for asking, needing no more explanation to realise your husband did not return. And his heart broke for you. The thought of you hurting, in any shape or form, made him uneasy, made him want to reach out and comfort you. Placing a hand to your arm, he gave it a gentle squeeze. No words needed to be exchanged, you knew what he was trying to say.

With a small nod, you smiled softly, distracting yourself by getting back to the task at hand, making a few quick adjustments with your pins and measuring tape. Seemingly satisfied, you took a step back to make a full inspection, announcing quietly, “That should do it.”

Slipping the jacket from his shoulders, you placed it over your arm before fixing the collar of his shirt, your fingertips creating a trail of goosebumps when they brushed along his neck, and that was when he knew he was in trouble. Just one touch against his bare neck and all those buried teenage feelings came rushing back, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. Never to be suppressed again. And he knew himself well enough to realise that if he didn’t act on those feelings today, he was going to end up with a whole god damned wardrobe full of swanky suits. When what he really wanted was you.

Breaking through his trainwreck of thoughts, you touched his elbow, your eyes searching for something in his, “Arthur, this will only take me ten minutes… will you wait? Or” You paused, your expression changing the slightest bit, “Or did you want to come back tomorrow?”

With a deep breath, Arthur cleared his throat, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the fact they were trembling. “Ah, yeah, I can wait.” Feeling sick to the stomach, he shuffled on his feet, taking his hands out to run them through his hair, before returning them to his pockets, “Um, when do you knock off from here?” Clearing his throat again, Arthur worked hard to keep eye contact, fuck you were the loveliest thing he had ever seen. “I mean, if you want to, we could catch up… I could take you out for dinner or… or somethin.”

You answered with a smile. It was so sweet and warm, and genuine. And he dared to hope that just maybe you weren’t going to turn him down. With his heart beating in his throat, he waited for your reply. It was just a few fleeting moments, a few short moments that felt like an eternity. But your answer came, and he could barely believe his ears. “Yes, Arthur. Thank you. Dinner or somethin’ would be lovely.”

#arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby #arthur shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #arthur shelby imagine

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

On the Highway

18+ MINORS DNI because Eddie is a devil of a stripper.

"Oh my God, I can't believe we're doing this," Steve said.

"You wanted to know, didn't you?" Robin asked.

"Only because you pointed out that it's not exactly straight to check out everyone's butt," Steve said.

"Because it's not," Robin hissed.

Steve crossed his arms and slumped in his seat. They were both sitting in the far back of a male strip club in Indianapolis. Steve’s stomach was turning. He shouldn't be here. Oh. God. It was too late to leave, though. The show was staring, and the first of many acts came on. The music actually helped calm his nerves and focus on the performance. He had to admit that guy was a good dancer, but he was trying too hard muscle wise. He was definitely pretty, though, with exceptionally plump lips that Steve could definitely nibble on. . .okay, so maybe Robin was onto something. The performances were great, but they really didn't do a whole lot for him except make his stomach flutter. Although the previous act did make his cock twitch a little. It's wasn't until the very last act that Steve got his official confirmation.

"Introducing. . . SATAN'S SLUT. . .," the announcer introduced. "Really? Come on. Why am I friends with you? Oh, shit, I forgot to turn off the mic."

Highway to Hell by AC/DC started blasting from the speakers. A man with long dark curly hair burst forth from the curtains. He wore a long red cloak, a devil's mask, and black heels. Sliver rings glinted on his hands, his nails painted black. His hands went to his throat. Steve watched, enraptured as the man whipped off his cloak and threw it into the crowd. Oh, god, he was wearing a red thong, and his nipples were pierced. He also had tattoos. A weird looking old witch on his chest as well as a spider, bats on his arm, and some sort of puppet on a string on his forearm. His body was perfectly soft and pale. His long, skinny legs worked well with the black heels. Steve could imagine running his hands up those perfect legs, trailing up to cup his . . . Woah, his pants just got a little tighter.

The man started moving and dancing. He moved in a way that seemed physically impossible. Like a cat, he seemed like he was both a solid and liquid. He moved harshly against the pole, his hips thrusting in tandem with the song. Steve gulped, imagining his hands grasping the man's small hips as the man grinded against Steve. There was something familiar about the way the man moved, the way he moved his hands about. . .did Steve know this man? No, the world was small, but it wasn't that small. The man jumped around, his heels slapping into the floor as he turned his back to the crowd. He had a flaming sword tattoo on his back, slotting perfectly along his spine. The man peeled off his mask, held it out beside him, and dropped it. A woman was quick to grab it and slip some bills into the man's g string, letting her hands linger on the man. It caused the announcer to speak up.

"You get one warning, lady. Don't touch. Causing I'm telling you now this asshole bites and not in a kinky kind of way. As in, he'll break the skin and leave a permanent scar all because you ate his goddamn pretzels," the announcer said.

"Frankie!" The stripper yelled.

"Right, shutting up," Frankie said.

The stripper turned his head over his shoulder to give the crowd his best come hither look. Steve’s heart jolted in his chest. Oh, shit. The man he's been lusting after was none other than Eddie Munson. His brown eyes popped under the dark eyeshadow that he had painted across his eyelids. How had he not noticed how beautiful his eyes were?

"Yeah, I'm definitely a lesbian," Robin said, her hand over her eyes.

"And I - I am definitely not straight," Steve said. "I got to take a piss."

When Steve came back to their table, Robin gave him a look of disbelief.

"I know what you did in there," Robin said. "Gross."

"You mean, use the restroom?" Steve scoffed, blushing.

"You've got jizz on your pants, by the way," she said.

"Shit, I thought I was careful!" Steve said, looking down. "Oh, fuck you."

"Made you look! You totally did it, and the guy with devil mask? Really?" Robin asked. "Let's go so we can go back to your house so we can properly judge your taste in men."

The ride back to Hawkins was silent except for the radio playing in the background. They quickly settled into the living room.

"You didn't see his face, did you?" Steve asked.

"No, I was too busy drifting off into La La Land," Robin said.

"Robin! It was Eddie Munson!" Steve exclaimed.

"Oh, shit. As in leader of Hellfire, co-parent to your little boy genius?" Robin asked. "This is perfect! You guys already have kids together."

"Robin, we don't even know if he likes men," Steve said.

"Now, you understand my dilemma," she cackled.

"Yes, please revel in my misery," Steve said.

"That's what good friends do, Steve," Robin said. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously?"

"Yep!"

Steve was true to his word and did nothing about his attraction to Eddie Munson until spring break happened. He slowly started to get to know him in the middle of all hell breaking lose and he liked what he learned so far. He had no choice but to interact with him, and he really liked him. . .like really liked him. He had to do something about it now before it was too late.

The RV was parked in an open field, and everyone was outside, enjoying the sunlight before the big fight with Vecna. Steve discreetly watched Eddie slip inside the RV and waited a moment before following. Eddie had taken off his jacket and pulled his hair into a messy bun while he drank a bottle of water. Steve watched for a moment, blushing. Eddie capped the bottle and flashed him a dimpled smile.

"Hey, big boy."

Steve immediately tried to ignore the way that nickname made his stomach flutter.

"Can we talk?" Steve asked.

"Sure thing," Eddie said.

Eddie plopped on the couch and patted the seat next to him. Steve grinned and sat down next to Eddie.

"So, confession time. A few months ago, I came to realization about myself. Actually, Robin helped me with that. I wasn't exactly straight. I mean, I like men and women," Steve said, pausing.

"That's really great, Steve. Thanks for telling me, man," Eddie said, and Steve could have sworn he saw a little hope in his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"A few months ago, Robin took me to a male strip club up in Indianapolis," Steve said.

"Damn, she really is your best friend, isn't she? . . . Wait. . .you saw my act, didn't you?" Eddie groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Look, man, I took the job because I needed to help my uncle out with the bills. He had an accident, and he needed help covering them."

"Eddie," Steve said, laughing as he removed his hands from his face. "I really liked it. . . I mean, I really liked it so much that I ended up. . . "

"What? You ended up doing what?" Eddie asked softly.

"I left right after your performance to go to the bathroom to, uh, take care of myself," Steve said. "I couldn't even approach you for months because you were all I could think about. Now, I'm starting to get to know you, and I want to continue to get to know you because - "

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek and pressed his lips to Steve’s, kissing him softly. Steve responded immediately, placing his hand on Eddie's hip and pressing lips harshly against Eddie's. They moved together, and Eddie let Steve push him back on the couch. Steve squeezed his hips, and Eddie moaned into his mouth, carding his fingers into Steve’s hair. They broke apart quickly when they heard the door open and looked at Robin's guilty, shocked face for a moment before she disappeared. She slammed the door.

"Nothing to see here, kiddos!" Robin exclaimed. "Quick! Go get it!"

"Did you just throw a stick like we were fucking dogs?!" They heard Dustin shriek.

"Why did you go and fetch it, dumbass?" Max asked. "If you aren't a dog?"

Eddie and Steve sat up as they laughed. They leaned heavily against each other. Eddie laughed and kissed Steve’s cheek.

"I like you too, big boy," Eddie said.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #robin buckley #platonic stobin #robin is a good wingwoman #stripper!eddie munson

[o-moon-o]

I am not much of a writer- but had this funny idea in mind and I want to share it

What if Buggy had a daughter with his s/o and she is sassy as hell, can shut anyone up and is a mean girl (for those who upset her or piss her off, overall she is a sweetheart and not a brat), even tho she is like six years old

(let's say that his daughter's name is Ivy)

And what if Cabaji had a big fat crush on y/n, Buggy and Ivy knows about it but y/n don't

Ivy takes that to her advantage to piss off buggy and emberisse Cabaji

Like this one time when thay having dinner on the ship and Cabaji was staring at y/n daydreaming, Buggy take notice of that and yell at Cabaji "STOP STARING AT MY WIFE LIKE THAT!!", Cabaji, who almost jumped out of his chair, looked down at his food with a red face and mumbled "sorry captain"

Y/n, who felt bad for Cabaji and thought that buggy is being a little bit overly protective or dramatic, looked at buggy and said "buggy, don't you think are being abit harsh on him, especially the last few months?", Buggy looked at her and his gaze soften

"oh sweetheart, don't worry about him" and that when Ivy decided that it is time for her to strike

"oh yeah, Mom, don't worry about him but unfortunately I can't say the same to dad, since you probably should worry about him because the day when you fuck up and mum divorce you, she would move on to her 'plan B'" and she pointed at Cabaji when she said 'plan B'

The silence was very loud....

The entire crew, even buggy and y/n was speechless at what Ivy just said, who was smiling proudly at herself, y/n was the first to break the silence, asking her daughter softly "sweetheart...Are you not happy with your dad?" Ivy smile drop to a unreadable expression and stayed quiet for a second, she than side eyed buggy with a dark expression and said coldly " he knows what he have done....."

"LOOK IT WAS AN A ACCIDENT, I SWEAR!!!" buggy snapped at her and she snapped back at him "HOW DID YOU POSSIBLY THROW MY FAVORITE DOLL IN THE SEA BY AN A "ACCIDENT"??? HAA??"

"IT WAS CREEPY, OKAY?"

"YOUR CREEPY!"

"WE LITTERLY LOOK LIKE EACH OTHER!!"

"NO WE DON'T, I ONLY HAVE YOU EYES AND HAIR COLOR, THAT IT!!! I AM BEAUTIFUL JUST LIKE MY MOM"

Ivy than turn to her mum and pointed at her dad "WHERE DID YOU FOUND THIS MAN??!!?"

"Ivy, that's your dad, don't say that"

However the two blue haired kept arguing like and that's when y/n had enough, y/n yelled "QUIIITTTEEE!!" shutting off the both of them

Y/n signed and tried to make it up between the two of them "well how about this, Ivy, you apologize to your dad for what you have said and I will buy you a new Dollie, you like my taste in Dollies, don't you?" Ivy though about it for a second and then turn to her dad "I am sorry for saying that you are not good enough for my mum and calling you ugly, dad"

Buggy wasn't satisfied, but he didn't want to upset y/n (and also didn't want his daughter to continue on stiping on his ego) so he forgive her and since they both in wrong, he apologized too for throwing her favorite Doll in the sea and thankfully everyone went back to eating

Bounces:

Cabaji leaned to Ivy's side and whisper to her "psst...Do you really think I can get with your mum?" with a bit of hope, Ivy whispered back to him "of course not, not with this ugly ass-emo haircut of yours, like seriously how old are you? 12?"

#buggy #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #captain buggy #one piece buggy #op buggy #opla buggy #buggy headcanons #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #buggy x reader #one piece imagine #one piece #one peice x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

your toxic könig is so perfect and the more recent posts made me think about a similar kind of au but with gromsko. like god i need this man to """force""" me into being his perfect little wife i swear.

AND IM SO SORRY but being slavic also makes this even more feral for me because i imagine the second his gf shows a bit too much independence/DARES to talk over him (yeah it's an achievement to be able to talk over him, the mf is LOUD)/etc he just. goes feral like he sees it as a challenge and he needs to show her what a slavic woman is actually supposed to be like.

but slavic or not he'll keep holding the fact that he "tamed" you over your head even when he's fucking you. talks about how this is your place, this is where you belong and how he's going to make sure you remember by breeding you full.

Omg Gromsko OMG

I'm so normal about him yes yes it's just your ask that made me this way ^^ I'm blaming you my dear anon 💕

CW: Protective & possessive behavior, implied sexism

So, Gromsko. Your car broke down in the middle of the road and this absolute bear of a Pole pulls over to help you. He has a charming smile, sure, but he's also obnoxiously bold. That casual masculine bravado makes you feel weaker than it should; there's this aura of shameless pride about him, and you can't quite decide if it's annoying or sexy.

You try to tell him you can handle it, that the repair guy is already on his way. But Gromsko? Hah. He just bypasses that shit. Pops up the hood and gets to work. The car is fixed in no time, and the next thing you know is that you just said yes when "Sobieslaw Kościuszko, pleasure to meet you, miss," asked if he could take you out to dinner this evening.

And it's true that he's loud. Like, why does he have to talk by half shouting...? (Probably because he has to make it known that he's the strongest, most virile male in the area.)

Sobieslaw always sits with a wide spread, with a broad, tall chest, with a confidence that seems to come naturally to him. He never tries to make himself smaller, no matter how crammed a space is. Everyone except the elderly has to move aside when he walks because he's not going to dodge or sidestep. You're not the only one who fears he will eventually break one of those dainty little chairs in the fine dining place he brought you to; the waiter side eyes this man like he's some beast that somehow got in and should be caged, not fed.

Despite all that brass, Gromsko is a proper gentleman. Always opens the doors for you, always pays at a restaurant. And always grabs your waist and draws you closer if there are other men around. Guy looks like he's ready to get into a fist fight for you if it comes to that.

It's kind of hair-raising how he laughs at the very concept of independent woman. His woman should never have to be "independent." It would be an insult to him as a man if his wife had to go to work.

He tells you how beautiful you are with intensity and passion that seems to come from another age. That boundless adoration makes you feel drunk, and Gromsko doesn't seem to notice anyone else but you – it's like all other women have disappeared from this planet.

He lays siege to you like crusaders of old laid siege to a city. You never have to fear whether you're coming off as too interested or eager or that you'll "scare" him away: this man is always more interested and eager than you. Still, you fear that everything will come to an end once you give this man what he wants – namely, sex.

You couldn't be more wrong! He's not fucking around, and he's not dating for the sake of getting laid. He's looking for a wife and a mother for his kids.

An infuriatingly sexy, uneven smile spreads across his face everytime you meet. He's checking you out, and he's utterly shameless about it. You're being rated like cattle, and it should not send butterflies to your stomach when you notice he seems to more than just approve of your hips and breasts. Little do you know Sobieslaw Kościuszko has already decided you're to be his wife.

When you finally spread your legs for this man, you expect him to fuck you with the urgency and attentiveness of a 20-year old hockey player. But Gromsko is actually a skilled lover! You don't know why and you don't know how, but he seems to decode you and all your weaknesses in record time. Hot kisses and intense love making are his bravura. Gromsko is so attuned to you and your pussy that it should be illegal.

It's like the gods made this man to breed women and spread his seed because he has the biggest balls you've ever seen. He doesn't grow all too soft after climaxing, and continues to fuck you even after you both just came. With sloppy patience, sure, because you're practically begging for mercy under him… but the point is that he just won't stop. He continues to pump you with strong hips and infinite stamina, and groans how perfect you are as you approach your second orgasm.

He places so much trust on his cock that, perhaps surprisingly, you're the first woman he has ever put his mouth on. It's the only thing that makes that eternal shield of pride tilt aside a bit, because he hates it when he doesn't know what he's doing… but neither is he a man who backs down when faced with a challenge!

He doesn't know what he's doing, which means he takes a mental note of every single thing that makes you shiver and sigh. This Polish bear learns to please you and just you, examines how you respond to slow licks and fast laps, sucks on your nub until you cry, and when he sees how much you enjoy his treatment, this man goes crazy.

"You like that, kochanie?" He pants between your legs, drunk on your pussy, swearing in Polish and giving lewd comments about how wet you are. He only ups the pace with his tongue when you cum. You're an overstimulated mess, but he's not done. He crawls on top of you and gets down to business with his thick cock, those heavy balls start to slap against your soaked flesh until you feel like you have no brains left.

"It's easier to just stop fighting, kotku," he seems to approve of your wet, moaning state more than anything. But it's the wickedly pleased gruff of "Let's get married, Słoneczko," that sends you spiraling into another overstimulated, glorious orgasm.

You don't even know that he's already told his whole family about you. You don't yet know that his grandmother already loves you. But it starts to dawn on you that you got more than you bargained for when Gromsko informs you that he'll take you to Poland but only as his wife.

Perhaps that's where this man's charm lies! Gromsko simply knows what he wants: a good loyal wife and a nice, large family. If you can give them to him, he's not wasting any time getting you pregnant. You're knocked up before you even know it, there's a ring on your finger before you get to say Na Zdrowie. You're his little wife now, and there's nothing you can do about it ❤️

#answered #gromsko x reader #gromsko #sobieslaw kosciuszko #gromsko cod

[bennysmiller]

Sweet Nothing - Frankie Morales x Reader

You and the boys have a night in at Benny's place, and amongst the chaos during a movie night, you and Frankie manage to find some quiet.

"Beer?"

You look up from your place on the sofa to see Benny holding out a full bottle of beer.

Normally you'd accept, but alcohol made you sleepy and you had to keep your eyes open for the game of charades Santi had proposed to everyone five minutes earlier. You shook your head at Benny but offered a slight smile in return.

"You don't have to stay awake, doll. Always welcome to crash in my bed while we're all out here"

Benny knew. He always knew. But once again, you shook your head at his suggestion and promised him you were fine. But you weren't fine. You wanted nothing more to fall asleep in Benny's bed to the sound of your boys laughing in the front room. But you also wanted to be present. After their latest mission, you knew how important it was to spend as much time as possible together.

"Well, you know where it is if you need it." Said Benny, before moving on and offering the beer to his brother.

Ten minutes later, the game of charades had been abandoned and Santi decided to put a film on instead. You couldn't actually hear what was being said, because Benny and Santi were too busy arguing over what they thought was going to happen. Then Will joined in and you wished you had taken up Benny's offer to sleep instead.

You managed to get yourself up off of the sofa, and over to the kitchen for a glass of water. As you take sips, you can't help but stare at an equally tired Frankie. The way his curls poke out from under his cap, and the way his hand is resting underneath his shirt, just on his stomach. You began to wonder what it would feel like to put your hand there instead. Do it for him.

You mentally kicked yourself for thinking about Frankie like that. He'd been nothing but sweet and respectful to you since you had met. But every now and then, no matter how hard you tried to push them down, those thoughts would creep up.

"They're real fuckin stupid sometimes."

You looked up to see Frankie stood across from you with his hands on his hips. When did he get here? you thought to yourself. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't see him get up.

You straightened up and put the glass down on the counter before agreeing with the man in front of you.

"I love them to bits but you're absolutely right." you said, earning a sigh from Frankie.

"I'm an old man now, just want peaceful nights in where I don't have to listen to a running commentary on whatever film we're trying to watch." He said, before taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair.

I could give you those kind of nights.

Before you realised what you had just said in your head, you jumped at the sound of a bottle smashing in the front room. Frankie rolled his eyes and chucked his cap on the table next to him.

"Too damn loud." He said, and ran a hand over his patchy beard. "Hey, you ever get those Taylor Swift tickets you wanted?"

You were about to turn around, but paused when he brought Taylor Swift up. It was something you had mentioned to him ages ago. You were both sat in a diner after a similar night with the guys, and needed to escape. So you sat and talked. All night. About anything and everything. You mentioned wanting to get tickets but didn't spend too long on the topic, so you went red when you realised Frankie truly was listening to you ramble on about them.

"Yeah, I did." You spoke quietly, but inside you were screaming. For so many beautiful reasons.

"Can I confess something? The night you mentioned those tickets, I went home and played a few of her songs. She's good."

"Seriously? You like her?" You asked excitedly. You wanted to die at the dimple that made an appearance on Frankie's face when he smiled at your enthusiasm that had suddenly shown up.

"Yeah," He chuckled. "You mentioned you loved Sweet Nothing. That's my song right now. I really am too soft for all of it."

He looked proud as fuck for slipping that lyric into the conversation, and also for how he'd clearly been studying your favourite artist.

You thought of the lyric outside they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming and realised that perfectly described your situation with Frankie. Pure chaos in the front room with Santi, Benny, and Will, but the kitchen? You and Frankie found five minutes of peace in the kitchen. It was your place. You made the rules that night.

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales #Frankie Catfish Morales #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier x Reader #Santiago Garcia #Will Miller #Benny Miller #Pedro Pascal #Charlie Hunnam #Oscar Isaac #Garrett Hedlund #Taylor Swift #Midnights #Sweet Nothing

[multi-fandomlovers-world]

141+Alejandro, Rodolfo And Konig React To Their S/O Singing And Playing Guitar

TW:Fluffy, SFW

Not my gifs--------All supported by Tumblr

N/A: The lyrics of songs I used will be listed down below at the end! I hope you all enjoy! Remember requests are open! Come requests and let's have fun! :)

The song I will use is called "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen

Simon "Ghost" Riley":

He had no idea that you could sing-but when your beautiful melodic voice, it catches him off guard

He'd try hard to tell himself to focus but he'd end up failing because he'd be looking at you like you are the only one that exists

To him, your voice is beautiful. It almost makes him at peace, and it helps him sleep better knowing this

He'd definitely want to listen to you singing anytime he gets a chance. Don't blame him if he falls asleep on you, it's comforting for him

He might even ask for an encore but in private...

He's so in love with you LITERALLY

John "Soap" Mactavish:

He will literally stare at you with a look so pure and adorable. He's so in awe of you and watches with a smile

Johnny also had no idea that you could sing- which made his reaction more obvious

He will praise you every time that you do sing, will tell you that you have a voice of an angel and it was brilliant listening to you

He encouraged you to sing more often because he loves how you sing

He loves the way that you control your voice, the way you hit certain notes, etc

Will most likely end up being his drunk kareoke partner

"Aw las, you sing so beautiful. You should sing more often, yeah? I'd love to hear more",

John "Captain" Price:

He knew you could sing-he read your file but you never sang In front of him or anyone (stage fright) until one day he heard you

You were putting away a bunch of stuff in your new home and he kept quiet, listening to your voice echo throughout the kitchen

He was stunned, listening to you was like an angel and comforting to him

He will praise the fuck out of you like a typical dad

Sometimes, he will just lay with you and listen to you sing. It helps him relax more

He gives you the most loving eyes as you sing

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Sweet boy tries so hard to stay focused on what he's doing but he can't control his facial expressions

He's not overly expressive like Soap, but he will stand there like Price, stunned and with his mouth open slightly in surprise

I reckon that you did mention to Kyle that you used to sing more before joining the medical field. He's easy to talk to and a very good listener, so you don't ever mind him knowing

After knowing this, he smiles and kisses you softly, telling you much he loves you more

Still, he's amazed on how good you are at this. He could listen to you for hours and never get old of it

Say if you two went to the bar, he'll join you and Soap for a drunk karaoke session and have fun. He's not a bad singer as well

Alejandro "Colonel" Vargas:

Oh honey, he's your number one fan

He tries to stay composed while on a mission, but he can't help but a smile

You met him during the capture of Hassan, so he hasn't shown you for too long but man, you were a bunch of surprises

After the mission, he'd probably ask you questions like how long have you been singing, did you take lessons? He's just curious on getting to know you

He smiles on when he gets to know you more and ends up praising you for your singing

Most likely to ask if you could sing any songs in Spanish, if not, he's more than happy to teach you

He kisses you passionately because to him, your singing makes his day better and feels on top of the world

Rodolfo "Second-In-Command" Parra:

He's naturally a quiet guy so he doesn't say much - his face says more than anything

Once he heard you sing, you were the one that mattered. Your voice was like music to his ears

He's a man of few words so he would definitely compliment you and kiss you softly, showing you how much he loves you

"Tu voz es hermosa"( Your voice is beautiful)

Definitely would love to hear you sing more often, if you sing in Spanish as well, he would be more in love

If you didn't know Spanish, like Alejandro, he would teach you

Konig:

He knew you could sing, he's heard you a couple times while you are working on base in the medic room

Being the big shy that he is, he didn't want to come off like a creep but he was walking by on route and heard you. Sounds sus but it ain't

Hearing your voice, crystal clear and so beautiful, he started to develop a huge crush on you

He probably won't say anything, knowing you two are on the same team and his anxiety unfortunately gets to him and ends up telling himself no

"Du hast so eine schöne Stimme. Ich würde gerne hören, wie du dich oft bewegst (You have such a beautiful voice. I'd love to hear you move often)"

He will literally give you the softest, loving eyes when you sing

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Taglist: @dressycobra7 @lolis-pikt

#cod mw2 #mwii #mw2 headcannons #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #mw2 konig #call of duty modern warfare #mw2 x reader

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hihi! Hope you're doing well.

I just wanna ask some headcanons where Marnie dumps Lewis in favor of Marlon (the better guy she deserves), because I feel bad for her man. And Lewis is too sketchy and weird and Marnie deserves someone who loves her <3

Also, I hope I'm not clogging up your asks. I know how full asks blogs inboxes can get, I just wanna say take your time answering them and don't stress.

Stay hydrated! (Seriously, we're roasting over here in the equator).

Hewwo, dear anon :3 And don't worry about it, you're not clogging up my inbox! Thanks for the wishes, and I hope you're escaping the heat too (we have +20⁰C at the moment, but summer is coming soon and it will be unbearably hot 🥲). Have a good day! 💕

_________________________________________

Yoba witness, Marnie had the patience of a saint and could understand many things. She waited and endured. She waited. And waited some more. And then some more, more, and some more, truly believing Lewis' words of true love for her.

But to be honest.... it wasn't how she'd envisioned "true love".

Hiding in the shadows, pretending nothing was going on between them (even though rumors of their relationship were flying around the Pelican Town)? Watching the mayor come through her window at night so they wouldn't be caught by the locals during the day? Lying to her own niece and nephew that they've heard nothing and there's no one else in the house but the three of them? Justify the dates with business meetings at her ranch?

How long will this last? How much longer do they have to hide each other for fear of "public judgment" (when really everyone has known everything for a long time and they don't give a damn!)

It's spring now - the time of flowers and love, and Marnie has to stand apart from it all. Immersed in sad thoughts of wasted youth and wishing in the past that she could find the one person she would be happy with. Really happy with.

Marnie calculates how much chance she, an old nag, has of finding someone, and sighs conciliatingly, realizing the dire result. Lewis had good qualities and flaws, like every human being, but why he acted like he really are embarrassed by her presence? And why was she herself afraid to say everything she thought about it? Why can't she-

"You look beautiful today, Marnie."

Those words brought her out of the fog of confused thoughts and bad memories. She didn’t realize that she was now at one of the most beautiful festivals in the Stardew Valley - the Flower Dance.

"Huh?...."

Marlon, whose compliment had helped Marnie out of her trance, was a little worried that he'd said the wrong thing. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah...," Marnie added a little uncertainly. "Just... I got a little dizzy from the smell of the flowers." Marlon's emerald eye was perceptive, but still didn't probe his old friend further. 'You look beautiful today, Marnie...' it had been so long since she'd heard those words....

Why should she keep waiting...?

"Say...," Marnie began cautiously, turning her head toward Marlon, "would you like to dance with me?"

Normally the old adventurer's face was stingy with emotion, but Marnie's question caught him off guard. "Are you sure? I haven't danced in over twenty years..." "Neither have I." Marnie was more sure of her own words than ever. "And don't worry, I don't remember much of the moves either. But who knows what will happen tomorrow? Maybe tonight will be the last chance to have some fun?" Why is she lashing out at him? Why is she even trying? How silly of her-

Marlon stood in front of her and extended his hand to her, asking her to dance. "Then I ask for your hand, and let's go have some fun. Just like old times."

To the smooth music, gathering surprised but approving glances from the other dancers and one indignant glance from Lewis, Marnie held Marlon's hands, letting her forget all her problems and troubles. It was as if time itself had stopped. Just him, her, and their dance.

#thanks for the ask! #I'm usually a fan of both Marnie/Lewis and Marnie/Marlon situations #Although I have become more interested in Marnie/Marlon lately 😊 #stardew valley #sdv #sdv marnie #sdv marlon #sdv headcanons

[issysfantasyworldsblog]

Coming Home

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x GN!Reader

Notes:

pure fluff, bath, naked bodies, no smut, body worshipping, kissing, no use of y/n, no description of the reader’s body anatomy;

Summary:

Kyle comes home. ♡

Words: ~720

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You can't help but smile as you hear the door close. Kyle sighs as he sets his heavy bag down on the floor. Glancing around the corner, you glimpse your attractive boyfriend, one hand removing his boots while the other holds a present.

"Hello," Kyle greets with a weary smile as he stands up. You pull him into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. He reciprocates, resting his chin on your hairline.

"It's good to be home. I missed this, and I missed you," he murmurs, lost in his thoughts.

"I missed you too," you respond, kissing his cheek tenderly and feeling his growing beard. He hums in appreciation, holding onto you tightly. Despite the smell of gunpowder and sweat on him, you couldn't care less now.

"Are you hungry? I made spaghetti carbonara," you offer.

"As much as I would love to, I must shower first. I wouldn't want to ruin your delicious cooking with my odour," he declines with a chuckle.

“Then would you like to take a bath with me?" you ask, blushing slightly. Kyle responds by placing his lips on yours. The outside world fades away for a few seconds as you focus on each other. The noisy trumpet playing of the neighbour's six-year-old and the barking of "Sir Cookie," the chihuahua across the street, are forgotten. The most important thing is that the love of your life is back, alive, and without any severe injuries.

As you enter the bathroom, you fill the tub with water and toss a vanilla-scented bath bomb. Meanwhile, in the shared bedroom, Kyle is stripping off his clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket. As you hear him grumble and curse, you can't help but wonder if he's okay.

"Are you alright in there?" you call out. 

"Yeah, just kinda stiff," he replies, appearing naked in the bathroom doorway. Your cheeks flush as you take in his fit physique.

"Goodness, Kyle," you stammer.

“It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. And you know you can touch it whenever you want," he teases with a mischievous grin and playful sparkle in his brown eyes.

"I know, I know," you respond, "but it's been weeks since I've seen you. Next time, give me a heads up before you flaunt your amazing body." Your significant other laughs and wraps themselves around you.

“I try to remember for next time, but I can't make any promises.“

As he eases himself into the bathtub, he lets out a low grunt. The warm water immediately starts soothing his tired muscles.

“Oh, man... That's nice," he murmurs, closing his eyes and leaning back. You observe him discretely before also slipping out of your clothes.

"Can you scoot over a bit?" you request.

"Why? Maybe I want to admire your beautiful body," Kyle teases with a pout.

"Creep. Just give me some room now," you respond, motioning for him to move over. With a scoff, Kyle begrudgingly makes some space for you. As you settle across from him, you adjust your positions in the tub until you are both comfortable.

You take a moment to revel in the peacefulness. As your mind wanders, you tenderly stroke his legs, paying extra attention to the pale scars. Suddenly, he breaks the silence, asking,

"What's on your mind?" Startled, you turn to face him.

"Just how fortunate I am to have you by my side," you reply, leaning towards him.

Smirking, he responds, "That's my line, babe."

His hands rest on your hips, gently caressing them with his thumbs. You lock lips, getting lost once again in each other's presence. His tongue playfully teases your lips, urging you to part them. The gentle, innocent kiss quickly escalates into a passionate make-out session.

However, neither of you takes it to the next level. While you do have sexual relations, upon his return home, both of you relish in the small moments of the relationship, particularly cuddling - without any discussions about work or other serious topics.

As you pull away from the kiss and meet each other's gaze, breathing heavily, you can see the blush on his cheeks, and he can see the one on yours. At that moment, you know that you have fallen in love with the perfect man for you.

------

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[x-authorship-x]

Can't stop thinking about some sort of Actor AU with Shisui reading for the first time the script of his death and having a whole reaction like, "THAT'S how I die? What?? Suicide, seriously??" talking with Itachi about how terribly written the scene is and arguing that there are so many more ways of him to die better than this! In ways that would make more sense for his character! And Itachi listens to it all while nodding because yeah, Shisui's completely right

*holds your hands and spins you in a circle* ANON, I LOVE AN ACTOR AU!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

this is all so accurate lmao you know that picture from the script reading for game of thrones???

That's the room when shisui yeets himself over the cliff and leaves Itachi's child actor standing there, eye in hand, looking like a whole ass murderer lmao

Okay but can we also imagine an Actors AU for my HOPE AU? Like I'm sorry I'll never leave that series alone but can we talk about this chaos?!

Bonus points if:

shisui being originally his character's stunt double and then something happens and the actor pulls out so Shisui is thrown the script and absolutely kills it (like that story about how Harrison Ford was the carpenter hanging the door when Lucas was running Star Wars auditions etc etc)

Inoichi's actor bringing in his own daughter to play Ino because she's an absolute force of nature

Sasuke's actor is actually played by Shisui's actor's little brother and it's this running joke that he likes Itachi's actor so much more 😂 (ino's actor taking insult to this and wanting her dad to take shisui home with them for real)

Itachi's mother is actually mikoto's actress who was the ideal casting but wouldn't let her son, who did adverts and stuff as a child model, attend the set without her... She makes filming a bit of a nightmare

Kakashi goes full Robert Patterson and starts wildly lying in interviews, his character was supposed to be way more intimidating, like a proper military hardass, but this is what you get when you cast an indie actor who proceeds to wear the strangest face coverings to all promotions (including a paper bag with cut out eyes to "preserve Kakashi's modesty") (the mask was also the actors idea, citing it was mysterious and dehumanising to his character... Only to later reveal it's because he didn't want to take his lipring out)

Kisame spends about 6 hours in hair and makeup every morning and he has to wear one of those huge cgi suits to make him taller (like Beast in live action beauty and the beast) and the struggle to take him seriously is REAL

Kana the crow... Is this huge green lump that shisui has to talk to so seriously, like a bull machine, and Akira is this stuffed green puppet lmao Kakashi please stop doing a David Attenborough commentary impression off camera

Danzo's actor was a huge heartthrob when he was younger and everyone who recognises him is both impressed and horrified at the transformation

Fugaku's actor becomes a meme for being photographed at several rallies standing off with police only to get cast as a Shinobi cop 😂

Sarutobi's actor is the guy they ALWAYS cast to play Old Wise Man (no one is quite sure what he did before he was old enough for these roles)

Tenzo's actor is a famous singer and this is his - very unexpected - breakout role and his fans almost break the barrier at the red carpet when he walks out

Like c'mon this is just 🤌🤌🤌 to me ✨

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #actor au #naruto actor au #hope au #hope au actor au #shisui #Inoichi #ino #sasuke #itachi #mikoto #fugaku #squad two #kakashi #tenzo #genma #raidou #not #no tomorrow #udb #until dawn breaks

[hydrangeyes]

Hair Day

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

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Alright- crack time, So why not do the good ol’ hair dye day?

Short? Super short (also abit old)

Established Dabi/Touya x Male reader

Short insight to personal Dabi theory, that no way did hair dye drip off that easily

Current 10/7/22: lololol If you can't tell I wrote this directly after the dabi hair reveal; man I still feel like it wasn't dye

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Babe have you seen my-”

You pause mid speech, stunned at the view in front of you. Dabi standing in front of a mirror, hair almost completely white with a convenience store bag messing placed on the toilet.

Still in his (secretly favorite) robe you got him, and black streaks staining his face, he looks up at you in a bit of frustration.

You already knew about his identity and all but seeing his hair, this was a first. Dabi lets out a harsh breath from his nose as he looks at your reflection in the mirror.

“The gel washed out…so was thinking I’d permanently dye it this time.” He grumbles out the explanation and you chuckled softly.

Walking up to him you kiss his cheek and touch the ends of his apparently still-wet hair. You smile sweetly, rubbing light patterns on his hips.

“Mm pretty, what color?”

“Black I- wait you think it’s pretty.”

Dabi frowns looking at you like you’ve lost your mind then glances back at his hair in the mirror. You hum and lean onto his back wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Of course I do. I think everything about you is pretty. Beautiful, stunning, handsome, Gorge-”

Dabi tries to push his hand on your face to shut you up, but you can tell by the tension leaving him and how warm he was getting that he liked the compliments.

“Alright alright shut up. I get it…”

“If you want, I can wash the rest of this gel out and dye it for you?”

He turns in your hold to look at you. You try to hold back how silly the drying gel looked on his face. For the most part his face is unreadable, but you can feel how fast his heart was beating. You can tell how baffled and hesitant he was by the way he looked just barely into your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’ll be fun, can put on a movie, style it a bit to see what you like and then go ham with the dye. It’ll take a bit but it’ll be fun.”

Dabi leans down to press his forehead against yours taking a second to think about it. Dying his hair in the past was always such a hassle, it’s why he switched to gel. But the thought of you helping him do it tugged at something in him, coupled with the compliments…

He places a couple of kisses across your face before giving you a lazy grin.

“Hair day it is.”

----------------------------

I have alot of headcanons about Dabi and how he treats his hair like shit. And all the time taken to get it an even color. (have you ever tried to die too light of bleached/hair? Ooooooof it takes forever (i say bleaching my hair again), and black dye on white hair? Lmao not 1 session, unless you want it grey and darker in certain areas for no reason

#bhna x male reader #x male reader #male reader #Dabi x male reader