#but I don't care I love it and I love him and I'm so so so obsessed and excited to write him with others!!

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji fushiguro x black reader #black reader #𖤐 ── lxnarworks. #🔪 ── toji.

[augustinewrites]

"i love hearing your voice first thing in the morning."

you roll your eyes, resting your phone between your cheek and shoulder. nevermind it's mid afternoon. "aventurine, listen—"

as expected, he does no such thing. "don't care why you're calling. just that you're calling."

you can practically hear that smug, handsome grin on his face. "about your assignment in penacony—"

"oh yeah, sorry i had to take a rain check on our date. i ran into a few bumps along the way."

"what date?"

"the one i'll be dropping by in ten minutes to finally take you on." you hear chatter in the background now. he must have just entered the building.

you quickly check your reflection in your office window. "with an explanation for your expense report i hope."

"so you do get my messages! did you see the picture i attached?"

you did see the shirtless hotel selfie he'd attached to the report. you'd done him a favour and removed it (and saved it) before sending it off to your colleagues. "you gave that trailblazer hundreds of thousands of credits for unapproved 'bribery costs,' as you've called them."

"yep," he confirms, popping the 'p.' there's a few beats of silence as he pulls the phone away from his ear. your phone vibrates with a notification.

e-transfer: AVENTURINE sent you credits!

500,000 credits, to be specific.

"seriously?" you ask, shaking your head.

"don't worry, it's not ipc funds," he assures you. "i won it fair and square. use it buy yourself something to wear on our date. something gold."

"i'll be using it to pay rent for the next few months," you inform him, opening your banking app to deposit the credits. "but maybe i'll blow a little on something fun first."

"oof. speaking of blowing—"

your office door is suddenly thrown open, aventurine strolling inside with his arms wide open.

you stand, rounding your desk. aventurine kicks the door closed, then leans in for a hug, only to be stopped by a printed copy of his expense report pressed into his chest. "we need to talk about this."

"nah."

"nah?"

he takes the report, ignoring your protests as he throws it over his shoulder. "hey—"

he quickly closes the distance between you, cupping the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

and you— well, you kissed him back, letting him crowd you up against the wall. annoying as he was, you couldn't help but want him a little too.

when he slides a hand under the hem of your pants, you grab his wrist, pulling back to look at him. bright eyes watch you curiously.

"oh no. you first, hot stuff."

"hot stuff, huh?" he grins, already pulling his shirt over his head. you try not to stare at his spectacularly toned torso for too long and inflate his ego anymore. "i like it."

he moves back in for another kiss but you lean back, gaze flicking to his pants.

he quickly undoes them, pushing them down to his ankles and leaving him in just his boxers.

only then did you let him kiss you. again and again and again.

"okay, that's enough," you tease, leaving him with one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. you're breathless, flustered, face warm in the aftermath of your office makeout.

"hey, hold on—" he's quick to groan, shuffling after you with his pants still around his ankles. "where could you possibly be going right now?!"

you turn to face him once you've pulled the door open, holding up your phone. "i'm going to buy something gold to wear for our date."

#he has to hide in your office for a while bcs he's bricked up LOL #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine smut

[evie-sturns]

dinner - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend chris have just had your one year anniversary, to celebrate chris's family invites you and your parents round for dinner! but when chris gets worked up by your touch he has to take you to the bathroom...

contains: smut, bathroom!sex, semi-public, fluff, teasing, stomach bulge.

--------------------------°°••....••°°--------------———

in honor of chris and i's one year anniversary, his family is deciding to throw a huge dinner party. i'm not too sure if his extended family will be there but my parents and siblings are coming.

"chris?" i call out, spraying my face several times with setting spray after finally finishing my lengthy getting-ready process. i hear his excited footsteps sprinting up the stairs before the bedroom door swings open.

"you look so pretty," chris smiles, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around me.

"oh- chris! careful, i don't want to get makeup on your shirt!" i laugh while chris smooshes my face onto his white shirt from his deadly tight hug.

"right so were gonna go pick up matt and nick- i think everyone else is meeting at mary lou's." i say, pulling away from the hug and grabbing chris's hand.

chris nods before dragging me downstairs, my high heels click against the wooden floors as i adjust the straps of my white sundress.

i turn my phone on do not disturb while unlocking the front door, "how long are we going to be there?" chris asks, stepping out into the afternoon sun.

"only a couple hours, you might get a little bored." i tell chris before jumping into the drivers seat of our car.

"no- i'll be fine," chris defends himself with a sigh.

i look over at him "you okay?" i ask, rubbing his shoulder as i drive down the driveway.

"just.. really fucking nervous" chris laughs.

"chris no. you know my family loves you so much, all your brothers will be there its a happy thing!" i try to lift his enthusiasm with a confident tone.

-

i pull into the driveway of chris's parents house, ever since we picked up matt and nick, chris has cheered up. hes been laughing dramatically while making stupid jokes.

"you guys ready?" i ask with a grin, switching off the car.

"yes ma'am." nick jokes, swinging open the car door and jumping out, matt follows close behind. chris get's out of the car and instantly starts walking up to the front door, i run up behind him.

the front door opens slowly, mary lou's face peeks out and instantly lights up "hello!!" she sings, wrapping her arms around me.

"your children are here too" matt scoffs, she wraps her other arm around matt nick and chris, squeezing us all together. the sweet smell of her floral perfume flooding my nostrils.

"come in! come in." she hurrys us inside, the kitchen has my older brother and younger sister in it, roaming through the pantry. the dining room has tens of adults around all chatting happily around the table.

"look whos here!" jimmy calls out from the dining table, everyones heads snap up to me and chris. dramatic hollers come from the people round the table, chris and i burst into laughter.

“come! come sit” my mother smiles widely, tapping the two seats left for chris and i. i look over at chris and flash him a quick smile before sitting down

chris sits down right next to me, our shoulders brushing briefly.

"its been so long! hows molly?" i ask, molly is my dog. shes getting old but shes my childhood dog.

"oh shes doing great, you know still limping but we took her to the vet a couple weeks ago." my mom replies with a small sigh,

"anyways- and chris! i've missed you darling congratulations on 1 year! hows that youtube going?" she continues, looking up at chris with a wide grin.

"thank you! it's going great thank you, my career now- yeah!" chris speaks, his hands resting comfortably on his lap.

"ahh- youtube i remember when you were just starting a couple years ago!" my dad laughs, before chris and i dated we were friends since high school. my dad always loved chris, he says that chris is a 'sweet boy'.

all heads on the table turn towards mary lou and my cousin james, bringing over several dishes to the table.

"this looks awesome thank you." matt smiles up at mary lou.

i look over at chris, who is now shifting in his seat. he locks eyes with me and instantly breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.

i serve up some food on my plate,

suddenly i feel chris's hand on my thigh as he talks to one of my cousins, his long fingers trace small circles on my inner thigh under the table.

i stab my fork into the cabbage on my plate, glaring over at chris as he happily chats with various members of my family while his fingers slowly shift up my thigh.

he drags his fingers just under the hem of my dress, i can feel myself growing more sexually frustrated, my panties dampening by the second. his pinky lightly grazes my panties.

"chris." i whisper, he turns to me with an innocent face and a small head tilt.

as soon as he wraps up the conversation with my cousin he leans over, his lips just below my ear before he whispers subtly

"you're gonna excuse yourself to the bathroom and i'm going to meet you there in a minute okay?"

i nod, squeezing my thighs together.

"i'm just going to pop to the bathroom" i smile warmly at my parents like my boyfriend wasn't just teasing me under the table.

i scoot my chair back and stand up, swiftly walking upstairs and taking the first door into the large bathroom.

the walls in chris's parents house are paper thin, last time i was hear i could hear conversations from each bedroom clearly, so now i hear chris making up a lame excuse to meet me up here.

"hey- i don't know if y/n's feeling very well she was nauseous on the way here" he lies through his teeth "i'm going to go check up on her." chris says, i hear his chair shift before footsteps running up here.

he swings open the door with a stupid smile. "yes?" i say with a roll of my eyes.

he walks over to me, grabbing my ass and lifting me up onto the marble countertop. my back presses against the mirror as chris steps between my legs.

I spread my legs apart, causing my dress to ride up my thighs revealing a portion of my panties.

"fucking soaked." chris scoffs, my face flushes as he tugs down my panties to my ankles before putting them in his pocket. he fidgets with the belt of his jeans, letting it drop down followed by his jean.

"if you. make a sound. i will stop completely." chris speaks sternly, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

"good girl." chris says, rubbing my cheek before lining himself up with me.

he pushes his tip inside of me, observing my face. he slowly gives me more, i shake my head as i press my lips together.

chris is big, its a known fact and it's almost impossible to stay silent when he pounds into me.

"you can take it, i know you can" chris mutters, bottoming out. i arch my back, breathing heavily.

he starts to thrust into me, his hands gripping the plush of my hips. the thrusts grow faster and harder, we both know we don't have all the time in the world so hes desperate to make me cum, and to cum himself.

the angle we're in allows him to repeatedly hit my g-spot.

"fuck!" i moan out, before i can even finish the word chris's hand is plastered over my mouth.

he presses two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

i whine against his fingers, squeezing my eyes shut as i shift all over the countertop. shortly after my legs start to shake, i feel myself growing so close to my orgasm.

his hand that was on my hip moves to my lower stomach, pressing lightly. i look down, theres a clear stomach bulge.

"you feel me right there sweetheart?" chris breathes, i throw my head back with a frantic nod. he continues to press on my stomach.

i wrap my legs around his back before clenching harshly around him. i squeeze my eyes shut as i fight back all noises that are begging to leave my mouth.

my orgasm crashes over me, chris chuckles lightly before pulling out. he releases into his hand as he throws his head back.

we stay still for a couple seconds, i look down at his hand that he just released in

"gross!" i tease,

"hey it was this or on your dress so i took the practical option." chris replies, i stick up a finger and repeat what he said in a nerdy tone.

i flop down off the countertop, tugging down my dress and reaching into his pocket, digging around for my panties.

i pull them out of his pocket and slide them up my legs, chris washes his hands and redresses himself.

"that was.. hot." i breathe out, unlocking the door to the bathroom.

chris follows close behind me down the stairs, all heads turn to us.

shit. were we too loud?

"oh no! y/n were you sick?" mary lou says with a small pout. i hesitate for a second

"your hair is all messed up and you're absolutely flushed! your red!" my mother adds on,

i look over at chris who has his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"yeah- i'm sorry guys i threw up in there" i lie with a fake sigh

truthfully, i wasn't sick. i just couldn't tell my whole family that my boyfriend was just balls deep inside of me right upstairs.

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

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine

[iceunhie]

fragility — sunday.

summary: disagreements may often occur with sunday, but the two of you seem to always find a way to resolve it. (or, in which sunday is a little too devoted; lucky for you, you'd never have it any other way.)

notes: sunday character study, reader and sunday are arranged to be married/betrothed; not canon compliant, sunday might be ooc and i do not apologize he must be down bad 💯 reblogs are appreciated ! would love for u to tell me what you think about this experimental fic hehe

Sunday has always been the picture perfect image of control.

It is in the way his suit never has a single wrinkle, save for those he intentionally keeps to exude a more tolerable presence to The Family—and even then, he has always smoothed out every crinkle, every flaw; whenever they wouldn't look. It is seen in the way Sunday fights to calm his voice after a particular burst of his emotions, the way he almost obsessively tends to his plans to make sure nothing shall go awry.

If Sunday is a lone bird flying in the sky, then his control over himself, his conduct of his emotions is the chain that binds him to the earth below. Grounding him oft when he himself cannot.

If his sister is akin to a bird that spreads her wings to freedom, then Sunday shall clip his own, chain them down onto the earth if only to protect himself.

“Six gatherings.”

“Eight.”

However, there are often exceptions to his near flawless aspect of self-control; situations in which back him up into a corner, unable to retort.

“Seven gatherings and no more.” Like now, when you were being—for a lack of a better term—an extreme pain in the neck. Sunday exhales a weary breath.

“You can't be serious.” You frown at him. “Surely they'll be satisfied with six? They don't even care!”

“It would be best if we were to leave no possibility unaccounted for.”

“Sunday, you cannot subject me to any worse horrors other than prancing around being buddy buddy with those two-faced fogeys!”

He snorts at the barb. Trust that you use your rather extensive lexicon to state your mind in the most absurd of ways, most especially in the rather glitzy and pompous Family gatherings you both are required (read: forced) to apply yourselves to. Sunday should really ought to put in a word about it to you.

(He does not, however, tell you that your opinion is wrong.)

“I assure you that you will live. Acting like I'm sending you to your death is an immense exaggeration.”

Sunday drowns your complaints and listens to it with one ear. He knows, and trusts that you would relent anyway, so there was no reason in arguing over it any further.

Because, despite the innumerable ways in which your very existence rattles his, turning his carefully constructed world upside down in jeopardy, Sunday cannot stray away from anything you request.

(it would be blasphemy to do so. a sin he would never dare to oppose. you had that effect on him.)

You lounge leisurely at his personal quarters as though it belonged to you (it would, Sunday corrects himself, it will) and meet his eyes, liquid gold taking your existence in its entirety, as though it would be ripped away from him in an instant. He sees your eyes soften, just for a bit.

You put your fisted hand onto your cheek, squishing it slightly as you sulk. Sunday thinks he's finally gone mad when he considers running his fingers through them. (Would it be as soft as he had dreamed?)

Even with your face scrunched in a grimace, you are as radiant as gems and jade; your emotions splayed out before him like a clear spring reflecting the bright sky. (You are a reflection of the freedom he longs to embrace.) As wonderful as everything that Sunday is not.

Sunday knows your distaste is rooted in your aversion to the feigned lies and the prospect of sugarcoating your relationship as one of duty and not true affection (despite it being the complete opposite, he likes to assume) and being put on a pedestal by others.

But compliance is his owner, and Sunday is its dutiful servant.

“I know you're less than inclined-” Sunday starts to say, emphasizing the less. “-but now, with the Charmony Festival within full preparation, they want to see us there. United, as-”

“-As a happy pair.” you finish the thought with a rueful smile. “Something to calm them down while everything is in shambles. How characteristic of them.”

He nods. Meeting your gaze has always made him weak-willed. Sunday thinks that you could bring him down to his knees in reverence if you wish; he would not mind. “I know it goes against your principles.”

Because you believed in truth, that the chaos that Sunday abhors has a beauty to it he cannot understand; that you were a delightful paradox Sunday doesn't want the ugly claws of his control to grasp onto.

(He does not deserve you.)

“While I would gladly endure any gathering if it's with you…” you start, and his heart makes that familiar leap, like wings flapping in his stomach. “I don't want to keep up appearances to those who only see through the surface.”

“Then you shouldn't.” Sunday takes time to stand and stay seated next to you, if only to feel the actuality of you at whole. “You know better than anyone what we are.”

After all, Sunday sees no use in looking at the gazes of others when you are always at the forefront of his mind.

“...I know.” Sunday stiffens when you lean your head on his shoulder, your head brushing by the wing below his ear. He shudders. “I’m aware. More than anyone else.”

Your voice flutters in the wind like a bird soaring through the sky, and you illuminate his world in a stream of color. This is the most he gets to an ardent declaration of love, and Sunday would be damned if he would not reciprocate in any way.

(He does not deserve you, but you make it a point to disagree otherwise, every time.)

“I’ll be by your side at every step.” Sunday says, lacing his gloved hands in yours as a promise. “You need only be by my side.”

In the present, and even in the future, Sunday hopes. Your gentle squeeze of his hand is the content of your answer.

“I can't really say no to you, can I?”

Sunday chuckles. “I should say the same.”

If his mind is bound to seek control, then his soul is bound to seek your warmth. Sunday thinks this is as it should be. As he hopes will always be.

You laugh. “Eight gatherings it is. Though I suppose in the future it would be even more than that.”

“Mm. We shall hope it to be so.”

“Oh, it definitely will.”

All by his side, where his heart shall whisper your name and where your soul shall be forever intertwined with his.

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

writing process for this was vv inspired by a tiktok audio that i can't remember the name from but it encapsulated sunday so perfectly my keyboard started typing lol

#mhie's spirals #sunday x reader #sunday honkai star rail #sunday hsr #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr imagines #hsr drabbles

[max1461]

Imagine this scenario: you are stuck in the trolley problem but the lever is gay. You don't want to touch the gross gay levelr (he might have jerked a nother man's penis with those hands) but you desperately want to kill the one guy on the one guy track because he got you fired from twitter (X) and now you're destitute. suddenly, the lever speaks to you: I know your a homophobic down on your luck guy, but I have news for you. Your mom was a lesbian and she only married your dad who was a nice enough guy but not her true love because of social convention. She came to care about him as a friend and eventually he figured out what was going on and they're on good terms, they've never spoken about it but that's why he had debra from work around so much when you were a kid, it was an affair and your mom basically knew about it but there was no hard feelings because ultimately by that point your mom and dad had figured out that they didn't feel romantic love for each other and that was ok, their relationship worked for what it was and they both wanted to be around to be in your life. anyway, that's what happened, and your mom eventually started dating another girl named jackie that she never brought around the house because ultimately she was never able to accept her homosexuality as ok. that's sad but it's a product of her generation. anyway, anyway, your loving mom that you care about was gay, and so, can you really be homophobic? can you really be so afraid to touch me (trolley lever) because I'm gay, when your gay mom held you as a child and stuff? and you start to cry and realize that your homophobia was misguided, and with newfoun d strength you pull on the lever and kill the fucker who got you fired from twitter (X) and left you destitute, and it's a little fucked up to pursue revenge like that but ultimately it's probably better than letting the five people on the other track die.

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 if they are not the father

Pregnant reader. if they are not the Dad

Price: He knew it shouldn't have disappointed him, but when the boy who looked exactly like Kyle glanced at him, all the thoughts that he couldn't give this to you came rushing back. He felt like half a man because of his infertility, not good enough for such a perfect woman like you. Nonetheless, he stayed by your side, holding your hand, wiping the sweat from your face. "You did so well, lovely." When he returned home, the first thing he did was sit on the porch with a cigarette, crying. Despite Simon's pleas for you to stay in bed, you walked to John, sat on his lap, and told him that you love him and that he is as much a father as the others.

Gaz: As soon as the baby, looking exactly like Simon, was born, he knew. He tried not to appear disappointed; it was okay, there would be many more chances, right? So, he took great pride in caring for you, trying to be the best partner of all of them. You only noticed his disappointment when your doctor cleared you again for the "fun stuff," and he was the first to scoop you up, moving slowly not to hurt you but still going deep, lifting your legs with his hands. "Can't let one drop go to waste, babe," he said before fucking your poor and happy cunny every day until you carried his baby.

Johnny: When that baby, who looked like a literal bear with blue eyes, was born, everyone assumed it was Johnny's. He was so happy and proud of his MacTavish genes. You still did a paternity test, as always, and the look on Johnny's face when he found out John was the father was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever witnessed. He wasn't even able to grieve; everyone was so happy about the miracle that Price could have kids that they forgot how it felt for him that the child he called his all the time was not his. That day, you cuddled up to him. "You know you're as much the Dad as Price."

"I know, Bonnie, but it still hurts." The hurt was forgotten after Johnny and his MacTavish genes impregnated you three times.

Ghost: He was happy, or at least he told everyone so. "I'm more of an uncle type anyway," he'd say. He was too big and brutish to be a dad, or so he told himself repeatedly. You didn't notice his grief until one day you overheard him talking to Riley. "I don't deserve to be a dad; I can't get anything great in my life except Y/N." You reassured him all the time that he would be the perfect dad. Much to his surprise, he became the perfect dad and gifted you two beautiful girls.

Girl Dad Simon >>>>>>>>>>

#cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #captain john price #simon ghost riley #john price #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #tf141 #141 #gaz x reader #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #john price cod #price x reader #price x you #price cod #price mw2 #john mactavish x reader #captain john price smut

[cybersunnie]

18+ / MDNI handjob; fingering; college!art; f!reader (wc 871) art's kinda sorta subby in this? with ART DONALDSON

Deep down, Art had an insatiable craving to be someone's—selfishly, thoughtlessly theirs. 

He never cared much for it before. Maybe it was because he had Patrick. Tashi, too. But now he felt like an outsider looking in as they slipped from his grasp, losing both of them to each other. And Art had pitifully and not-so-subtly attempted to plant seeds of doubt in their minds about one another, but it did him no favors. (So far, anyway.)

But if neither wanted him, then so be it. You did.

The first time he visited Tashi during her practice hours, you almost took his head off with a tennis ball. Not on purpose, of course, but you certainly caught his attention. Since then, Art had you wrapped around his finger, and you had your name wrapped around his throat. A symbiotic relationship. Two people who wanted to feel needed. Perhaps him more than you. And while he didn't find it nearly as fulfilling, it was enough. 

Routinely, long days of practice often ended with your hand wrapped around his cock. He'd offer to walk you back to your dorm, you'd agree, and before Art could blink, you were pulling him into your room and smashing your lips into his. Tennis duffel bags dropped to the ground, feet stumbling as you fall back on your mattress, bringing him down with you.

You reminded him of Patrick and Tashi in that way. You were greedy and hungry. Fiery and impulsive.

He fucking loved it.

Sat side by side and relaxed against the wall, your hand worked its way into his shorts, and Art followed suit, long fingers drifting along your cotton panties, the fabric clinging to your already weeping cunt. The kisses grew messy, licking into the other's mouth, the addictive taste of his sighs and whimpers on your tongue.

You knew how to take care of him.

The edges of his brain melted when you freed his cock, thumb swiping over his leaking tip before you started to pump him slowly. Torturously slow.

"Is this okay?" you asked, voice low and velvety. You already knew the answer.

He nodded, blond curls falling over his forehead. You brushed them back. "More than okay," Art whispered, his eyes half-lidded.

You grinned as you spoke, "Good."

Unlike his friends, you were gentle. Patient, too. In your arms, Art unfolded, his body melting into yours. And he loved watching you melt like he did, your eyes fluttering and lips parting as he rubbed your clit in smooth, deliberate circles. In return, you stroked his cock faster while your other hand combed through his hair, lightly tugging the strands and making his head loll back. Minutes had gone by with no words spoken, only faint moans that sounded like Don't go, and kisses that felt like Please, stay.

"Y'know, you've been so worked up lately," you murmured, tearing him from his hazy thoughts. Art swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing, his cheeks and ears flushed a Stanford red. "I guess your big cock just needed some attention, huh?"

There was fire running through his veins. "Say that again. Please."

"What? That you have a big cock?" You took the quiet whine emitting from his throat as confirmation. "Well, you do. You have such a big, pretty cock, Art."

"Oh, fuck," he whimpered, chest shuddering. "'M so close."

You raised a brow, the smile on your face turning a little smug. "Already?"

Art wanted to shrink away into his shirt, but he resorted to burying his face into the crook of your neck. It didn't ever take him long. Not at all. He knew that. You knew that—hell, even Patrick and Tashi knew that. But the fact seemed to never get any less amusing to you.

"Baby," you laughed, sweet and a little mean. "We barely started."

"I know, I'm sorry."

With the hand planted in his hair, you pulled him from the refuge he sought in your neck. You found him with a look of defeat, his eyes glassy from the pleasure, embarrassment, or both. That made you soften up.

"Hey, I was just teasing." You smoothed a hand over his cheek, skin warm beneath your touch. He leaned into your palm, his brows drawing together and breath hitching when you started stroking his cock faster. "C'mon, baby, cum for me—that's it."

He tried to fight it off, wanting the chase for pleasure to last a bit longer, but there was no use. Art was at your mercy, whether he liked it or not, and his hips bucked up into your hand. You felt his cock twitch, you heard the pathetic whimpers he failed to keep in, and suddenly there was a mess on your hand and his thighs.

"Good boy," you cooed as he eased down from his high.

Art could only watch, gaze glued on your face, his eyes glittering with ecstasy and awe. You were something beautiful but annihilating, much like the moon. And he was yours. Selfishly, thoughtlessly yours. At least, in this sense and this moment, he was. 

But, as you said earlier, you two barely started. So Art, like always, returned the favor, his middle and ring finger buried deep in your pussy.

author's note: my two recurring thoughts while writing were: how tf do you write subby men?? and do ppl actually say shit like this??? also, i only watched challengers once, so apologies if my characterization of art is a little off </3

UNEDITED — 05.09.2024

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist #✶ — sunnie writes misc! #✶ — art donaldson

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hey I’ve been having a rough few days and was wondering if you could do a vox reader with a breeding kink and he’s really protective. Anything else is up to you :) if not thank you anyway! Love your stuff

A/n:I AM SO SORRY I MISSED THIS AND I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE FEELING BETTER!

He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him, the moment he caught your eye Vox knew that he had to have you, he didn't care what the other Vee's thought and once your where his the Overlord was determined to make you his permanently and what better way than to make you pregnant with his kid.

He knew he didn't have to do this but he wanted it, he needed to do it.

A nail hooking under your chin forcing you to look at him, he could feel the warmth radiating off your skin, your shy little smile was doing something to him.

The way you pressed yourself against him left his breath ragged with barely contained desire. Your small gesture of grasping his tie, the look in your eyes...you wanted this too. His princess, so beautiful, so perfect. Leaning in, Vox wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you flush against his body as his other hand roamed up to caress your cheek tenderly as he kept his gaze focused on you. "You're nothing but trouble." His thumb brushed your plump lip teasingly. "I'm going to ravish you to the point where you forget your own name."

"Vox! Please!" Your lips placed a small kiss to the nape of his neck.

That single plea along with your kiss on his neck was all it took to fray the last threads of his restraint. With a low growl, he spun you around unceremoniously and pinned you against the wall in one smooth motion, caging you with his arms on either side of your head. Your surprised gasp tickled your sense of possession as he ravaged your mouth in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss.

His tongue delved deeper, tasting every inch of your sweet cavern while grinding himself against your core to let you feel how much he ached for you. You mewled and clung to the overlord, arching into his hard length seeking friction. He tore away from the kiss to lavish attention on your neck, biting and sucking marks onto your skin. "You will be the death of me, woman."

Without breaking contact, Vox lifted you up effortlessly and pinned your form between himself and the wall. His hands roamed to squeeze your breasts, swallowing your moans. "I'm going to take you right here, right now. Let everyone hear how much you love it when I fuck you senseless." With that, he tore away your skirts and panties in one go before sinking into your drenched heat with a possessive thrust.

He sheathed himself to the hilt with one final thrust, swallowing your cry of pleasures. You felt exquisitely tight and wet clenching around him, and he had to restrain myself from spilling on the spot. No, this joining was meant to last, to fully worship each and every reaction from you.

Sliding my his under your thighs, he kept you pinned against the wall for better leverage as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in. The lewd, wet slapping of your joining echoed obscenely but he was past the point of caring, only focused on the ecstasy twisting your expression.

"You like it when I take you like this, don't you, dove? Filling you over and over until your sweet cunt milk me dry." He punctuated each word with deep, punishing thrusts meant to reach the deepest part of your core. Your nails drew blood from his back but the biting pain only spurred him further into a maddened rhythm.

He tilted your hips to change the angle of penetration, targeting that sweet spot inside relentlessly. "Come for me, beloved. Drain this cock inside you and drink every drop as is your due." The chords of your climax snapped shut around him and he followed with a guttural groan, flooding your womb with my seed in thick ropes.

As you went lax yet still clinging desperately in his arms after reaching blissful completion together, he felt his possessiveness growing even more. Nothing makes him happier than pleasuring his star and have you sated. Stilling your harsh breathing, he held you tenderly against the wall, unwilling to part from your warm embrace even for a moment.

His princess felt so impossibly tiny and fragile cradled in his arms like this yet your passion and fire knew no bounds. He worshipped every inch of your flushed face, kissing your brows, nose, cheeks and finally your lips in adoring touches. "I love you, my Star. So much that it consumes me whole."

He meant every word from the deepest pits of his being. You were is his whole world and reason for living. Carefully lowering you until your feet touched the ground but not letting go, Vox brushed aside your mussed hair lovingly. "Come, let get the fuck back to our room for the rest of the night."

Lifting you easily in his arms, you sighed as your eyes closed falling asleep. Vox keeping his head high as he carried you off. He'll keep his word, but for now he's going to let you rest.

You'll need it.

#drabbles #drabble #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox x you #vox x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #vox hazbin hotel #vox hazbin x reader #vox smut

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part three max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

He thought he’d forgotten how to breathe, standing in his spot with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the chalkboard menu. You'd think he was a statue with how little he was moving. But then again, you weren't aware of who you were standing next to you.

"Y/N? Can we explore for a bit?" the two college-aged boys asked, making you peel your eyes off the list of foods to the interns, Max would assume. Out of the corner of his eyes, the blond could see you check your watch before nodding. 

"Yeah, sure. There's plenty of time. Meet me back here in an hour and a half so we can head over to the circuit. Deal?" Oh, that was definitely your voice. You were his Y/n. The way you talked and your voice and accent. He could now put a face to your voice, no more profile pictures.

"Deal! Thanks, Y/n." "See ya, Y/n."

"Take care, guys." Max didn't expect to run into you so soon, or be this close to you at all, even. He watched as you waved to the two interns who excitedly jogged out.

Don't come off as a creep, Max reminded himself, shaking his head and taking a step forward in the direction of the register. He'll just act cool, normal. Get himself something to drink and sit down. That helped calm him down a little, just like any other indifferent person.

It's very unfortunate for Max that his inner peace never lasts so long. Not that it was a bad thing he bumped into you. There is nothing wrong with accidentally stepping forward at the same time as you. It's just not good for his heart. Max already has to meet fans today and get in the car for fp2 and 3. You're just making his brain go haywire a little too much that he feels his eyes are going to turn static and face turning the shade of Charles' Ferrari.

"Sorry." He tried to apologise, stepping back, feeling his body stiff and turning to stone. 

"Désolée," you went to apologise only to look up and meet eyes with the three time world champion. "oh- im so sorry."

"No, it's ok." Max smiled nervously, meeting your eyes for the first time, which honestly made him feel mesmerised.

"Here, you can go," you stepped back, offering the blond to step to the cashier. 

"No, no. Ladies first." he shook his head, cutting you off when you went to argue back. "—I insist."

Max was kind of disappointed that you felt so nervous and acted so polite upon recognizing him. He wished you would've treated him like normal, the same way you talk to him as amilian or the same way you would talk to a stranger who wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into you.

He knows it's not fair that he's pushing his expectations on you, though. Anyone would react the same way upon meeting a very important or famous person. Max just wished he was standing beside you in line instead of behind you. Having a friendly conversation, telling you how much you'll love the cheesecake.

He'll have to settle for sitting on a table not too far from you for now, sipping from his paper cup while scrolling through his phone.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

y/n — 'I bumped into Max 😓' 

Max himself, glanced up to where you were sitting, catching you looking away quickly, face turning a deep shade of red.

y/n — 'And now he thinks I'm stalking him!!' y/n — 'million help 😭😭'

Max chuckled slightly, feeling his heart ease. You were overthinking things. He wished he could sit beside you and pat your back until you calmed down. But he can't really do that, can he? Max calming you down after you get all nervous and anxious meeting him? The situation gets sadly funnier the further Max plays into it and thinks about it.

Max — 'What did you do ⁉️' he sent back in the chat

y/n — 'I went to the café you told me about, and i think i accidentally stepped on his foot 😭😭' y/n —  'I ruined his shoes! And he needs his foot to drive the car!!!' y/n —  'He must hate me' y/n —  'He saw me looking at him too' y/n —  'Must think i’m a weirdo

"Not at all." He mumbled, a soft smile covering his face. You're just feeling anxious. He could care less about his shoes, and his foot is fine. He didn’t even realise you stepped on it. 'relax, deep breath' he sent, seeing you fill your chest and release as told.

Max — 'you're fine' 'don't overthink things'

y/n — '🥺' You were actually pouting.

Max — 'Do you want me to text him and apologise on your behalf?' 

A weird offer. Apologising to himself for you even though he wasn’t mad, but grateful he saw you today. 

y/n — 'NO!!!!' 'NO NO NO!' 

Max — 'Do you want me to get you a pass for the meet and greet?'

y/n — 'THAT'LL MAKE IT WORSEEE'

Max — 'Ok, ok' 

Max thought for a moment, sitting back. 'Count from one to ten' He was actually surprised that you did as told, listening to him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath for ten seconds.

Max — 'What did you order?' Start a conversation, comfort and distract her. He's good at that.

y/n — 'A mocha, the one you told me about'

Max — 'You should try the cheesecake, the one with strawberry jam on top.' He typed back. 

y/n — 'I didn't see that on the menu?'

Max — 'Trust me' Max — 'You'll love it'

y/n — 'Ok, ok, i trust you a million' y/n — ‘But not right now’ y/n — 'I'll stop by after finishing with stuff at McLaren’ y/n — 'I'm not hungry rn’ y/n — 'Wish you were here'

Max — 'Yeah, i'd be stealing that cheesecake from you' 

y/n — 'Don't you dare!! 😠'

Max chuckled, you were really expressive with your face as you typed. He saw you frowning to match the emoji, but there was still a hint of a smile. He liked that smile, he loved it. He loved you overall. 

You were real. If only Amilian was real. If only he could sit beside you and tease and joke with you. 

Max — '🫵😏' 'Max texted me!'

y/n — 'WHAT?!!!!????!!' 

He could see you jump in your seat a little before trying to act cool even though it was clear you were anxious.

Max — 'He texted me about a cute girllllll who he bumped intooooo' 

y/n — 'AMILIAN COME PICK ME UPP 😭'

He couldn't help the smile that curled on his face.

Max — 'I’m joking, I’m joking' Max — 'hahaha' He leaned back, sighing happily.

y/n — 'ofc you are' y/n — 'No way he thinks i'm cute'

Max — 'I mean you dress up like it's fashion week' Max — 'Compared to him, he could use some advice'

y/n — 'His outfit is actually not that bad today' y/n — 'Baggy white pants!!' y/n — 'And a blue shirt!!!!!'

Max — 'Wow, you serious?' Max — 'No way' He typed even though he is wearing that.

y/n — 'tbh it makes him look even more pretty'

Max — 'Pretty?’ Max — ‘He's a guy' 

y/n — 'What, a guy can’t be pretty?' y/n — 'Max is cute’ y/n — ‘Especially when he's having fun and smiling'

Max — 'The guy looks like a gremlin.' He didn’t even realise he was smiling, feeling fuzzy inside. Max — ’Sid the sloth, Netflix rerun’

y/n — 'Don't insult him!!' y/n — 'Take it back' y/n — 'He’s handsome and beautiful and amazing!' y/n — 'Any woman would be lucky to have him'

Max — 'You just dug your own grave' Max — 'I believe you fall into the *any woman* category'

y/n — 'No no no, pleasee' y/n — 'You'll embarrass me'

Max —’That's my job’ Max — 'I'll simply put in a good word for you'

y/n —'amiliaaaaaan 😭😭'

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #🐈 ﹒wired in? ﹐♫ #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula racing #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #max x reader #max x you #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one

[buckttommy]

do you think buck makes his phone's lockscreen a cute picture of tommy?

yes, but it's not a cute picture of him necessarily. it's a picture of tommy sleeping on buck's sofa with his hair all askew, fabric crease tucked into his cheek. it's not the photo buck loves so much as it is the story behind it... waking up at two a.m. to his phone vibrating on his nightstand because tommy can't sleep.

"why don't you come here?"

"evan." he says it in that voice buck loves so much. "it's two in the morning."

"yeah, and i have an empty bed and i want to hold you. so come here."

so tommy does. he shows up on his doorstep with bags under his eyes and it's at that point that buck realizes this whole "can't sleep" thing isn't just tonight, it's been a couple of nights. they haven't seen each other in days because they've both been so busy but tommy looks tired in a way that's not just because he can't sleep. now, i have this headcanon that, despite spending time in the army, most of tommy's nightmares come from his childhood. and he was triggered the other day by maybe a smell or a taste but whatever it is, he's been up with nightmares literally every single night since.

buck gets them set up at his kitchen island with hot tea with milk and cinnamon and he's just like "babe why didn't you tell me?" and tommy shrugs a little because he's not used to this... this level of care, attentiveness, affection - he's not used to it and he doesn't know how to get used to it. but he can see buck is bothered that he didn't tell him. so he kisses him and apologizes and buck is like "okay, you know what? i'm making an executive decision. we're doing movies tonight."

tommy raises an eyebrow. "movies? are you serious? it's-" he glances at the clock. "evan, it's almost three in the morning. you need to sleep, i'm fine down here by myself."

but buck just waves him away and tugs tommy to his feet, guides him over to the sofa with a hand at his wrist. "i happen to know for a fact that 21 jump street is on freevee, so we're watching it."

"why do you know that?"

(spoiler: it's because buck fucking loves those movies)

so anyways, he gets tommy settled on the sofa. oftentimes buck is the little spoon because tommy loves holding him, but tonight, he spreads out on the sofa and pulls tommy so that he's half on top of him, half tucked against the backrest. and he combs his fingers through his hair after reassuring him for a thousand times that yes, he's fine, no, tommy is not crushing him unpleasantly.

"comfortable?"

"mm."

tommy burrows in close. he's asleep before jenko and schmidt even bust the guys in the park, snoring softly, and eventually buck falls alseep too. he wakes up to pee around eight, and carefully extracts himself from underneath his boyfriend and does his business. when he comes back, tommy is still sleeping and buck loves him so. fucking. much. in that moment it makes him feel like he can't breathe. like he actually feels robbed of breath. his phone is on the coffee table so he snaps that photo on impulse and doesn't even think about it until weeks later when he's clearing his phone memory and finds it. so he sets it as his wallpaper because looking at it gives him that same rush of ilovehimilovehimilovehim and tommy teases him when he sees it but. there's so much overwhelmed fondness to his voice and to his gaze when he does. and just.

yeah. yeah. anyways. that's what i think happened.

#jack answers mail #tv: 911 #bucktommy #ficlet #one day i will write a proper fic but today is not that day

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[mirohlayo]

🍓❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ with lando <3

LET ME SHOW YOU

( maybe you're insecure, but that will never bother Lando, since it's a way to remind you how much he loves you. )

warning : insecurities, fluff

word count : 1.1k

You're not the type to be jealous or insecure. Especially not about your boyfriend. You trust him with all your heart, you can never blame him for anything because he is simply perfect. Adorable and perfect.

And yet, here you are in this situation. It had become usual for everyone now, to see Lando alongside beautiful models. Pretty women, with perfect and angelic faces, elegant posture and careful gestures. Even more so when he was partying.

You didn't see any problem with it. Since after all, Lando always made you feel like the most beautiful woman, Lando always reassured you that he only had eyes for you. And you know, you can't deny a fact that is true.

But seeing him constantly surrounded by these models was perhaps something that saddened you today. So, you locked yourself in your hotel room, while Lando continued to test the car on the track. He asked you about your health, if you were okay, but you just said you were tired.

Sometimes you would glance at Instagram, instantly regretting opening the app the second different posts of Lando alongside these girls popped up. You couldn't stand this.

It's probably toxic and unhealthy, but you can't help but feel insecure. After all, who wouldn't want a rich and handsome Formula 1 driver? Especially when that meme man is a lovable personality.

The day passed slowly. You heard the distant sound of the Formula 1 engines, thinking of Lando who was driving one of them. You regretted the moment he returned to the hotel. You didn't want to appear so weak and insecure in front of him, knowing that this isn't the first time you've talked about it.

But yet, despite your complexes, despite the fact that you felt apart, Lando was always there to comfort you about your relationship.

“Hello, sweetheart.” The day is over, since you yourself are surprised to see Lando standing in front of you. You try as best you can to come back to reality, giving your lover a weak smile. “Ooh my baby, I missed you so much”. His body collapses onto yours, as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck.

You delicately stroke his curly hair, while he snuggles a little closer to you. “I missed you too, Lan.” “Of course you missed me, you stayed at the hotel all day.” A silence settles in, you didn't really know what to answer. You didn't want to tell him about your insecurities.

"Sorry. I don't like leaving you alone on the track." He lifts his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. "Don't apologize, baby. You needed some rest." His lips press against yours, gently, delicately.

You already feel better, just from this simple kiss. It's unfair the way he manages to console you, to comfort you just by his simple presence. "I've been thinking about you all day. Even when I was in the car." His voice is muffled since his face is still hidden in the crook of your neck.

Still, it makes you smile. “You can’t do without me Lando.” You giggle slowly, while you feel a smile appear on his face. "Absolutely, I'm obsessed with you. Maybe a little too much... Fuck, I love you so much princess." A soft laugh escapes his throat as his arms wrap a little tighter around you.

But these words are enough to make you cry. Of joy, of sadness? You don't really know, but on the other hand you know that Lando's sincerity is the source of your tears. Because even without being aware of your insecurities, he manages to make them go away. To chase them away.

He always knew how to make you feel special and unique, make you feel his. Through his words and actions, he always showed only love and tenderness towards you. And even without talking about your problems, he manages to solve them with a snap of his fingers, thanks to his way of showing his affection.

Your wet tears fall on his hair, running down his neck. He senses that something is wrong, and suddenly raises his head to look at you. His face falls as he searches your face and your gaze for an answer.

"Oh my baby. Why are you crying?" He sweeps the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, cupping your face in the process. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your sobs. His lips place soft, long kisses on your face, while he gives you time to find your words.

“Take your time, princess. I’m here with you, I won’t leave.” You smile weakly at him as your tears fall once again. "I know it's childish, Lan but-" "Hey, don't ever say that again. Your problems aren't childish, you have the right to feel how you feel." He cuts you off, an expression of displeasure displayed on his face.

You nod slowly, sniffling otherwise. "I'm just... it annoys me a little to see you surrounded by pretty girls and models. I know we've talked about this before and it's something I need to work on with myself... “He encourages you to continue, gently caressing your cheeks.

"But I still feel a little insecure about it. I know you love me and I trust you, but sometimes it makes me insecure. I'm just afraid you'll find someone better than me." Lando's lips seem to curl down, to the point where his face resembles that of a puppy.

“Oh my baby girl.” He doesn't wait a second before kissing you languorously, his hands anchored on your cheeks, caressing them ever so gently. He pulls back, a soothing smile plastered on his lips. "How could I find anyone better than you? You are the very definition of the girl of my dreams."

You can't help but roll your eyes as a smile takes over. Which makes Lando smile more. “I only have you in my thoughts, my dreams and my heart. Only you my girl”. He kisses you lightly again, not being able to stop himself from smiling.

His eyes admire you as if you were the most beautiful thing on earth. Which is totally the case for him. “You know I love and care about you, right?” He leans down again to kiss the tip of your nose, as you nod eagerly. “I love you so much, Lan. I’m so in love with you.” You can only say these words in a low whisper.

His eyes crinkle into another smile, a most affectionate smile. “Then let me show you how much I am in love with you too, pretty girl”. And without further ado, he doesn't hesitate to cover your entire face with thousands and thousands of kisses.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff

[oneforthemunny]

ahhh love me a blurb game! could i pretty please request for mafia!eddie, fluff, matching pajama sets 🥹 thank you mwa ily

i'm screaming this is such a good one ahhh!!! i am loving the requests this blurb game!! everyone is so creative and fun so thank you!! hope you all enjoy <3

"Do you have them on?"

Eddie swallowed back a reluctant huff, running a hand down his face. He should tell you they don't fit, lie and tell you that there was a tear in them, reach for his pocket knife and slice them up.

Flashes of your disappointed face crossed his mind, and he knew he wouldn't do that- couldn't. So instead, he took a deep breath in, buttoning up the flannel.

"Eddie!" Your voice rang out again, knocking on the closet door. "Do you have them on? Let me see!"

"Just a second, baby." Eddie muttered, fixing the collar. The doorknob turned anyways, letting yourself in. His stern glare was short lived, cut off by your own excited gasp.

"Oh! Look at you!" You cooed, grinning at him. He was sight, standing in the dark interior of the closet, sticking out with dramatic contrast in the bright cream of the pajamas.

Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin, curling when he saw you in your own pajamas, matching ones.

You'd come home that day giddy and bursting with excitement, rambling on and on about how you'd found the most perfect pajamas to ever exist. He'd expected lingerie when you'd set the bag down in his office. Much to his surprise, it was not. Instead, two sets of flannel pajama sets, matching, with tiny Dobermans embroidered all over.

"It's the boys!" You squealed, clutching them to your chest. "It's the boys on pajamas! Isn't it perfect? I mean, what were the odds that they had these and they had them in our size?"

"Our?" Eddie nearly choked. He almost laughed when you'd shown him his, nearly scoffed and told you he'd never wear that.

The second your face fell, excitement extinguished by his hesitancy, that familiar pit came back to his stomach.

So, here he was instead, putting on the matching pajamas, letting you gush about how cute he looked, hugging him in the mirror. "Look boys," You cooed, clicking your tongue so they all piled in, sitting in front of you. "It's you! Look! Mommy and Daddy are wearing you!"

Diablo's tail wagged, whimpering and shifting with excitement, desperate to jump up and lick your face, but Eddie was there. "Come here," You patted your shoulders, letting him jump. "Be careful, Dio, baby. Don't rip them, be gentle. Look it's you! You can't rip these, they have you on them!"

The other boys started to whine, standing to pace and circle you, jealous of their brother. Eddie snapped his fingers, pointing down so they all sat at attention. You frowned at him.

"Don't let them jump on you." Eddie glared at you, the same stern look in his eyes. "They'll knock you over."

"No, they won't." You rolled your eyes, an involuntary click coming from Eddie. Vecna growled in protective warning towards Eddie, a low growl, but a warning all the same.

"They're just so excited that Mommy and Daddy have matching jammies with them on them, aren't you?" You cooed, dropping to your knees to hug and kiss Vecna, letting him know that you were alright.

Eddie grinned, a soft puff of air coming from his nostrils. "You spoil them."

"You spoil me." You countered easily. "Don't you love them? They're so soft!"

"Yeah, they are. A lot more comfortable than I thought they'd be." Eddie nodded easily. "Like you in them a lot. Look good in them, baby."

You rolled your eyes, scratching Lucifer's head gently. "Daddy's so silly, isn't he?" You grinned up at Eddie. "But, you look pretty hot in these too. Really doin' it for me." You admitted with a shy smile.

Eddie laughed. "Yeah? The matching pajamas get you going?"

"Oh, yeah." You nodded, shuffling on your knees towards him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his face neutral as you sat in front of him, looking at him sweetly through your lashes. "The pjs really get me going. You look so good in them."

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #vivisblurbgame #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson x reader #mafia!eddie #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia!eddie x reader #eddie munson au #oneforthemunny blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4

[harlowhockeystick]

down bad with rafe cameron omgggg

"fuck it, i was in love" | poetic prompts | warnings: mentions of rafe beating someone up bc he's down bad and drunk

"rafe," you sighed, in disappointment again.

this wasn't the first time he's shown up at your door step, bloody knuckles, dirty shirt, with alcohol on his breath. at this point is was at least once a month.

but, it's not like he could go home like this, because he doesn't have anyone there to take care of him like you do. you've given him a key to the place you rent that's not too far from tannyhill. he appreciates it, more than he has the vocabulary to describe.

"why do you do this?" you asked; you ask it every time. you get out the first aid kid, clean his cuts that just got healed, and you think to yourself why he's doing this. "they should ban you from bars if all you're gonna do is pick fights. i don't understand, you've got such a hot temper and-"

"fuck it, i was in love." he cuts you off, his mouth barely open when he speaks. his eyes were blown and his hand was lightly twitching. his words make you stop what you're doing, stare deep into his soul with his admission. "fuckin' loser kept...kept talking about you. didn't like what he was saying so i knocked his teeth in. then i told him he's a poor nobody who doesn't have a right to talk about the woman i love."

a grin came across his lips when he talked, recalling the memory of the satisfaction he felt just an hour ago. even though he's tipsy, and he's getting more drunk by the minute, he is very aware of what he is saying. he knows exactly what is coming out of his mouth with every syllable that rolls off his tongue.

"when're you gonna go out with me, y/n?"

"no- you can't just say you love me then say that- what the fuck rafe?" you take his other hand in yours and aggressively wipe the alcohol pad over his cuts making him hiss, pulling it back toward his chest.

"m'sorry i'm just now telling you." he mumbles, looking down at his lap. "i've been down bad for a long time. nobody treats me like you do."

a grin comes to your lips and you feel a million little butterflies flying around in your stomach. "i love you too. took you long enough to tell me, rafe."

he chuckles, looking up at you and letting you finish cleaning his cuts. he watches how you tenderly bandage him, just like every time before. "promise me you won't go do this again?" you stick up your pinkie and he wraps his own around yours.

"i'll try my best." he pulls your hand in and he places a delicate kiss atop your hand, placing it on his cheek. "so about that date?"

#j's writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #obx blurb #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb

[gglitch1dd]

Hi lovey, Can we get more of reader and Bakugou and eijiros kid?? I forgot the names, so im calling them that for now🤡. I kinda wanna know if Katsuki feels some typa stuff like "Lord, she's hugging my kid. Wish it was me who impregnated her🙄"😭😭😭And hunny, eijirous child is so adorable???? I feel like u wrote smth about her being a little plump, and i just KNOW it's from readers cooking and Eijirous genes😛

And btw what do I call u? Just glitch???

(Sorry for answering so late Anon, FORGIVE ME)

Katsuki's kid is Kane, Eijiro's kid is Satomi.

Katsuki definitely feels that way everytime he sees Reader hold Kane.

Fun fact, reader took a lot of care of Kane and Satomi, especially when they were younger and Katsuki, Eijiro and Izuku were busy with hero work, maybe on a long mission or for a few hours, so Kane and Satomi pretty much see reader as their mom but they aren't allowed to call her that (according to Katsuki).

Kane is such a sweetie. He's best friends with Toshinori so he's pretty comfortable around Y/N especially since its a known fact that reader produced a lot of breast milk for when Toshinori was a baby (that brocolli gremlin was a hungry sucker), and considering Kane and Satomi never had a mother in their lives, they got some milk from Y/N (Not directly and she made sure everything was tested and it would be safe for them- be safe with other people's children<3).

So Katsuki would come, Eijiro took a lot more paternity leave than Katsuki, and he would see Y/N trying to teach Eijiro how to take care of newborns and he would see her just holding a little baby Kane who would look all sleepy and drinking from a bottle and holding her finger with his little hand when he was a newborn.

Poor Katsuki sees a glimpse of the future he could have had IF HE HADN'T CHEATED ON READER WITH EIJIRO.

And this man is fighting for his life everytime he sees you. When your hugging little Kane or helping him clean up his face when he eats all messy or kissing him on his cheek happy birthday.

Katsuki can't fight the thoughts in his head.

ESPECIALLY when he sees you all round and pregnant AGAIN, and AGAIN with Izuku's children.

He can't help but think would you glow just as much if it was his baby inside of you and not Izuku's? Would you smile that widely whenever you held your bump like the most precious thing in existence? Would you have that look on your face, that he had engrained into his mind, whenever you came on his cock? That look of pure euphoria with a half lidded gaze and pleasure filled giggles out of your lips.

If he was still at your side, with a diamond ring that he would make sure put Izuku to shame, with his brats inside of you, and his brats calling you mommy, and his brats running to you, and loving you, and feeding from you and hugging you...

would you still look that happy?

Katsuki delusions say you would be even more so.

You love Kane and Satomi just like they were your own, but mostly because they don't have a mom to turn to.

Eijiro is so ever grateful for all of your help. he feels terrible everytime he sees you and he asks for it. He knows that he ruined your relationship with Katsuki, and despite the both of you having talked about it and you having outright stated "No Eijiro, it's okay. I'm happy now! Why would I be mad?"

Eijiro still feels bad.

He tries everything to take care of Kane and Satomi, especially with Katsuki so damn focused on work and trying to surpass Izuku. It was sickening often than not, but Eijiro never got the time to be upset because he was too busy trying to take care of two babies, both five months apart from one another.

Eijiro loved his daughter from the moment he heard her little heartbeat when she was still inside the surrogate's womb. He loved her and prayed for her everyday. And the moment she was born, Eijiro thought his life was full. He had his wonderful Kane, and now his darling daughter Satomi.

Being on breastmilk and her being a Kirishima, Satomi instantly turned into the cutest chubby baby ever. With round cheeks and a giggle laugh that made Eijiro smile. She was a daddy's girl true and true.

She never really does lose the weight even as she grows older, but Eijiro always thinks it suits her because she's so beautiful.

Especially since from a young age, all Satomi wanted to do was follow you around. She would follow you like a little shadow, her ruby eyes, wide and big just like her father's, would watch and try to learn everything that you did. She loved her father but she looked to you as a role model.

She would come home everyday, telling her father of what you had taught her, what new recipe or treat or hack that you had given her today. She would come to you for homework and advice and you even encouraged her extra more with her dreams in singing.

Even though she was a very sensitive thing and often got sad because Katsuki would want her to be a hero just like her fathers, Eijiro never really minded and you were always there to give her that motherly hug that she so craved.

Eijiro knew that his daughter would never have a mother, not in the way that she needed, but he was glad that she had you. He was glad that her and Kane had you. It put his heart to ease everytime his kids would beam up at you with childlike innocence in their eyes.

He wished Katsuki could put the same effort he put into his work as he did with their kids.

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki angst #kirishima eijiro x reader #izuku x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #dilf bakugou x reader #dilf kirishima x reader

[yxngbxkkie]

secret secret (b.c)

hello :) i've been thinking about frat!chris for a while, and i finally had enough motivation to write this idea!! i do hope you like it! 🩷🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Thanks for coming again,” Yeji tells you while handing you a mixed drink. She smiles at you as you grab a hold of the cup, and you shrug your shoulders.

“It's the least I can do, Yej. It's our last semester, so I might as well attend one frat party, hm?” You ask her with a giggle, taking a sip of the drink.

She laughs with you as she drinks from her cup as well. The vibrations of the music echo off the walls, and you can feel it from within you. Your eyes look around the dimly lit room, barely able to make out other students' faces.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you see Chris, the President of the Frat you're in. You can feel your cheeks flush, and you quickly tear your gaze away from him, not wanting him to catch you looking at him.

“I heard he's single again,” Yeji informs you, her arm nudging yours.

“Who?” You ask, knowing exactly who she's talking about.

She gives you a look before motioning towards Chris. “The guy you've been in love with for a year,” she tells you with a laugh, draping an arm over your shoulder.

Your heart hammers in your chest, baffled that she's aware of your feelings for Chris. You grow embarrassed and gulp down some of your drink. “I'm not in love with him,” you mutter, lying through your teeth.

Chris Bang is different from other students. He's extremely kind, respectful, and caring. The first time you talked to him, you didn't expect him to be so nice to you.

The two of you are in the same major, so you've worked together. He was your partner for a project a few semesters ago. Those are the only times you hung out with him. You've never hung out with him outside of the school grounds.

“There's no way he'd ever go for me,” you shake your head, looking at the liquid in your plastic cup.

Yeji rolls her eyes playfully. “You don't know that!” She tells you, smacking your arm gently. “You should try talking to him tonight.”

“I'll think about it,” you tell her, knowing she'll keep pestering you if you decline.

She pats your back as you finish your cup. You mention quickly that you'll be back, walking towards the kitchen to remake your drink.

You set your cup down as you look through the selection of liquor. A pair of hands rest on your shoulders, making you jump in your spot. You look over your shoulder, seeing Minho standing behind you with a smile.

“I never thought I'd see you here,” he chuckles before hugging you.

You hug him for a few seconds before looking back at the alcohol. “As I told Yeji, it's our last semester,” you repeat your words while smiling at him.

Minho nods his head and grabs one of the bottles. “Well, let's celebrate with a shot, hm?” He asks with a grin.

“Ah, okay,” you agree hesitantly, knowing you're a complete lightweight.

You watch him as he fills up two shot glasses, passing one of them to you. You pick it up and clink the glasses together. You down the shot in one gulp, squeezing your eyes shut at the taste.

“Oh, God,” you cringe, your upper body shivering. “That's horrible.”

Minho laughs as he sets the glasses in the sink. He pats your back afterward, and you go back to making a drink. “How's the dance classes going?” You ask while grabbing the ingredients to make a screwdriver.

“It's going well! Did Yeji tell you that we're doing our final together?” He mentions, watching you pour the various liquids in your cup.

“She did! She told me that she's really excited about it,” you giggle, already feeling the effects of the liquor. You stir your drink before taking a sip, humming in delight.

“She is. We both are. The dance style we got is one of our favorites,” Minho explains, making his own drink.

Before you have the chance to say anything else, Yeji and Chris walk up to the both of you. Your eyes widen a smidge, and you straighten your posture.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeji told me you were here,” Chris mentions with a kind smile, bringing you into a quick hug.

Your heart pounds against your chest as you hug him, wrapping your free arm around his shoulder. “Hey, Chris. It's been a while,” you greet him with a shy smile, taking a sip of liquid courage after.

Yeji grabs a hold of Minho's arm, tugging him away from you and Chris. You can see her give you a thumbs up from behind the man standing in front of you.

You swear that you're going to lock her out of the dorm later on. “Y/N?” Chris calls out your name, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Hm? I'm sorry,” you apologize, getting embarrassed.

He smiles at you and shakes his head. “It's okay. I asked how you've been,” Chris repeats himself, moving to the fridge to grab himself some water.

“You're not drinking?” You ask him with furrowed brows.

“No, I don't really like drinking,” he laughs before drinking from the bottle of water.

You hum, a little bit surprised as you drink some more. Silence fills the space between the two of you, and you begin to feel a little awkward.

“I'm going to check on the other guests. If I run into you again, let's talk some more,” Chris pats your arm gently before walking away from you.

You didn't even say anything, and as soon as he's out of sight, you cringe. “Can I be any more awkward?” You ask yourself, chugging the rest of your drink.

Chris finds you again a couple of hours later, and you're piss drunk. After he greets you, his hands find a place on your waist to keep you steady.

“Hi, Chris,” you giggle, leaning in closer to him.

He doesn't know how to feel. He's never seen this side of you, only talking to you about school most of the time. Chris’ heart skips a beat in his chest as you almost stumble over.

“Okay, it's time to get some rest,” he mentions, looking around for Yeji. His eyes find Minho, remembering that he was with Yeji earlier.

Chris helps you sit on the couch, your head leaning against the back of it. “I'll be right back, okay?” He asks you, holding your hand to keep your attention.

You nod your head, squeezing his hand in yours. “Okay,” you whisper before closing your eyes.

He walks up to Minho, patting his back. “Hey, do you know where Yeji is? Y/N's pretty drunk,” he informs him, taking a quick glance back at you.

“Shit, already?” Minho asks, looking in the direction Chris was looking. He winces in guilt at the sight of you, knowing how weak your tolerance is. “Yeji is linking up with someone. Could you take her home? I'll let Yeji know as soon as she's done.”

Chris bites on his bottom lip, not knowing how to feel about the situation. He doesn't know you that well, and he doesn't want to come off the wrong way.

“I trust you to get her home safely, Chris,” Minho interrupts his thoughts, snapping him from his daze.

“Okay, yeah. Text me her address,” he agrees while starting to walk back towards you. He gently reaches his hand out to you, nudging your hand. “Y/N, hey.”

You slowly open your eyes, blinking the fogginess away. You can still feel the effects of the alcohol. “Hi, Chris,” you giggle, smiling at him.

He smiles back at you, finding your intoxicated self to be quite adorable. “I'm going to take you home, okay?” He mentions while grabbing your hand, helping you up from the couch.

Your body gets pressed to his chest as Chris keeps you steady. “Sorry, I'm all over the place,” you slur your words, clutching onto the flannel he's wearing.

“You're okay,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes Chris almost half an hour to get you out of the frat house and back to your apartment. Your body collides with your mattress, a groan leaving your lips at the comfy feeling.

You look around for Chris, seeing him standing by your dresser. “You don't need to do anything else,” you tell him, making him jump at the sudden noise.

A groan comes from your lips as you sit yourself up. “Are you sure? I don't know if sleeping in that will be comfortable,” he mentions, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I'll be okay, Chris,” you giggle. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “Thank you for bringing me home. You're so… sweet.”

“It's not a problem, Y/N. I wanted to make sure that you got home safely,” Chris exclaims while squeezing your hand.

You stare up at him, and your heart pounds against your chest. “I– I'm in love with you,” you stutter over your words, feeling your face flush. “You're so perfect.”

Chris stares at you with wide eyes, your hand slipping from his. You slowly lay on your side, your eyes drooping shut as sleep takes over your drunken body.

“Y/N?” He asks, nudging your arm a bit. He releases a huff of breath and helps you lay in bed normally. Chris pulls the covers of your body, making sure you're completely covered before walking out of your apartment.

~

Chris sits with Jisung and Changbin, the two chatting about how they want their first demo to go. He's not paying attention to what either of them are saying, his eyes glued to your figure walking across the campus food court.

It's been three months since he brought you home from the party he threw. Three months since you drunkenly confessed that you're in love with him. Ever since then, he's been seeing you in a light he's never seen before.

You're gorgeous, stunning, actually. A part of him is shocked that you don't have people going after you. Chris’ eyes don't leave you for one second as you sit at a table with Yeji and Minho.

His breath hitches in his throat when you suddenly meet his gaze. You smile at him and he returns his before looking away from you.

“You're so obvious, did y'know that?” Changbin laughs, sipping from his coffee after.

“What are you talking about?” Chris asks, resting his chin against the palm of his hand.

Jisung nudges his arm, intervening, “you've been staring at someone for a while.” Changbin nods his head, agreeing with what Jisung said.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing what his friends are telling him. Jisung looks past Changbin, trying to pinpoint who Chris was intensely staring at. When the younger man finds your figure sitting with Minho, his boba eyes widen.

“Is that Y/N?!” Jisung asks him, whispering so no one around can hear. Chris just nods his head in answer, a gasp leaving Jisung’s lips.

“Woah, okay,” Changbin interrupts, holding his hands up a smidge. “You have to explain. Y/N’s the girl from our music production class a few semesters ago?”

The oldest out of the trio nods his head once again, already feeling his ears turn red. He brings a hand up to them, gently pinching the shell of his ear.

“Yeah. We had a project together, and she was really nice. Extremely smart, too,” Chris starts to explain, releasing a quick sigh. “Do you remember the party we threw a few months ago?”

“Yes,” both Changbin and Jisung reply simultaneously.

Chris laughs a bit, finding it funny that the two are so invested in this. “Well, she was there with Yeji. She ended up having too much to drink, and I had to bring her home,” he continues telling the story, his eyes going back to your figure. “and before she passed out, she confessed that she was in love with me.”

Both of his friends' jaw drops, causing him to roll his eyes again. “So, you mean to tell me this gorgeous girl is head over heels for you?” Jisung sums up the second part of the story. “Does she know that you know?”

“I don't think so,” Chris leans back on his chair. “She hasn't really spoken to me since that night. We don't have any classes together this year.”

“Why not go up to her now?” Changbin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Chris plays with his fingers, feeling nervous about the idea. “What if she didn't mean it?” He asks instead, locking eyes with Changbin.

“Have you heard of the phrase, “drunk words are sober thoughts?”” Jisung asks, giving him a bewildered look.

“Just go ask her out,” Changbin mutters to him, slapping his hands.

Chris slides his chair back, and both of his friends begin to freak out. People around them start to notice, and he gives the two a look.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He pats Chris’ arm, grinning up at him. “Go get ‘em tiger!”

You're listening to Yeji tell you about the date she went on over the weekend. You giggle at how she tells the story and take a bite of your lunch.

Minho's eyes flicker to the right and it captures your attention to look as well. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of Chris walking up to your table.

“What's happening?” You ask in a whisper, mainly asking yourself.

His eyes lock with yours and he greets you with a smile. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Chris,” you shyly greet him, lifting a hand to wave.

You watch him rub his hands on his jeans before he clears his throat. “Uhm, I was wondering–” he pauses, his eyes glancing towards Yeji and Minho, who are also watching him. “Do you know the studio we used for our project?”

You blink repeatedly, not expecting that question from him. “Yeah, why?” You ask with your head tilted a bit.

“Can you meet me there in a couple of hours? I want to talk to you about something,” he asks you, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” you agree, nodding your head.

Chris smiles, nodding his head as well. “Great, okay. I'll see you soon, then,” he mentions before quickly walking away.

Your lips are parted in surprise, not knowing what the hell just happened. Yeji slaps your hand while her free one covers her mouth.

“What the hell was that!?” She asks, also surprised.

“I don't know, honestly,” you tell her, fiddling with your fingers.

She pats your hand comforting before reassuring you. “Maybe he finally realized how pretty you are,” Yeji winks, causing you to giggle.

“Maybe,” you chuckle, tucking some hair behind your ear.

~

You're standing outside the studio that you and Chris have worked in before. You can see the light on from under the door, so you know that he's in there. You take a couple of deep breaths, feeling a little nervous.

You knock on the door and take half of a step back. The door opens up not even ten seconds later, revealing the man you've been in love with. He smiles at you, welcoming you in the small room.

He shuts the door behind you as you sit down on the leather couch. “What'd you want to talk to me about?” You ask him, deciding to get this anxious conversation over with.

Chris sits down on the computer chair, turning it so he's facing you. “Do you remember the party I had a few months ago?” He asks you, his gaze moving from you to his hands.

“Of course. I don't remember much from that night, but I remember showing up,” You nod your head, giggling a bit.

“I ended up bringing you home,” he mentions, and your eyes widen. You don't remember how you got home. You just assumed it was Yeji or Minho. “And, when I was in your apartment… you told me something.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. No… “I didn’t– I mean,” you stutter, beginning to freak out.

Chris reaches his hand out, gently taking your hand into his. “It's okay. I promise,” he reassures you, stroking the back of your hand. “You told me that you were in love with me. Is it true?”

You take a deep breath, feeling yourself shake just a little bit. “I… Yeah, I am. I'm sorry that I told you. I was drunk, obviously–”

“Will you go to dinner with me?” Chris cuts you off by asking you out.

“What?” You whisper, your heart skipping a beat. “Did you just–”

“Ask you out? Yes, I did,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand.

You smile at him softly, giggles leaving your lips. “Are you going to cut me off every sentence if I say yes?” You ask jokingly, squeezing his hand.

Chris laughs, and he shakes his head. “No, never. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to,” he says with a kind grin, reducing the space between you two. “I was panicking, and I didn't want you to think that I was going to reject you.”

“You're fine, Chris,” you reassure him.

His free hand comes to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks you.

Your cheeks blush at his question, finding yourself nodding your head. Chris tilts his head to the side, capturing your lips in a shy kiss.

You grab a hold of the shirt he's wearing, kissing him back immediately. He releases your hand to wrap his arm around you, pressing your body against his.

He breaks away from the kiss, his chocolate eyes looking into yours. You feel like you're on cloud nine. Never in your life did you think that you'd pull Christopher Bang, yet here he is, kissing you like his life depends on it.

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks you, resting his forehead on yours.

“I have to bring Yeji and Minho somewhere, but after that, I'm all yours,” you grin, brushing your nose against his.

Chris reconnects your lips, giving you a short kiss. “Perfect.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

#bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan imagine #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fic #bang chan drabbles #bang chan scenarios #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids au