#i thought he'd last until the end of the game after that first time fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[coff33andb00ks]

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #my writings > ln

[annwrites]

thought this place was empty.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (part of a series)

— summary: billy finds you at a house in hawkins.

— tags: billy being infatuated with you just a lil

— tw: none

— word count: 1,984

— a/n: i love u ethel cain, tysm for the constant inspo; preacher's daughter is so amazing.

ooh i like this one, yes i do. i think this is the start of something good.

billy isn't going to be portrayed by me the same way he was in thoroughfare. he's an adult now & has grown into a man. i'm not saying he won't come off as a tad cocky at times, but he's going to be far more mature in this series.

He doesn't know why he cares so damn much. Why it piques his curiosity to begin with. But it does.

He'd, for the last two weeks, passed you every day on his way home from work.

You'd walk along the side of the road, before eventually turning off to the right, heading up a dirt path through the woods.

He wanted to know what was out there now. Some meadow? A swimming hole? A treehouse? He'd come up with many theories while sitting at home alone, having a microwavable dinner and a cold beer at the end of the night, hardly paying attention to whatever b-movie was playing on the little antenna color TV in front of him.

No. You were what he thought of. To an annoying level. He'd screwed up brake calipers one day at work with you on his mind. After that, he began to resent you a little. Some random girl with a backpack on her shoulders and no knowledge that he even existed.

He'd not even gotten to set eyes on your face yet. He'd taken in everything else he could, however.

Your long hair, tanned skin, the dresses and shorts you usually opted for in terms of attire, the bracelets that littered your wrists.

He would never, never admit to having gotten off one night in bed thinking about your tight backside swaying as you took step after step atop the same asphalt his tires rolled along. In truth, before that night, he couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered touching himself at all.

Once high school ended, and his father was no longer responsible for him, he'd been kicked out near-immediately and he'd changed as a person not long after. It'd been time to grow up. No more games.

He had crashed at this friend's place or that one's. Eventually, a homeless shelter or two. He worked odd-jobs until he saved up enough to begin renting an apartment. And then he found full-time employment at a mechanic shop. He stayed mostly to himself. The work was steady, the paychecks not usually all that much, but he saved little-by-little what he could, until he'd had enough for a down-payment on a fixer-upper on the outskirts of town.

He didn't want to live anywhere near where his father was.

He didn't mind the extra time it tacked onto his commute every day. Enjoyed it, really. It gave him time to think. Not that he wasn't always.

So, to get his head to quiet, he threw himself into work while at the shop, and into his new house once he was home every evening. The roof needed patching, the wiring re-done, the front steps replacing, the paint was chipping from the walls. The list was damn-near endless. But he liked that. It gave him something to do. His hands stayed occupied, if nothing else.

He earned a few more calluses in time from it all. He'd wondered once what you might think about a man with rough hands. Then wondered even more why the fuck he cared in the first place.

He didn't even know your name. And he was almost certain you were still in school. Unless you just liked carrying a backpack everywhere. Perhaps you went into those tall trees to camp. Perhaps a lot of things.

It's a Thursday when he finally decides to do it—follow you. Out of boredom, if nothing else. Or, that's the reasoning he gives himself, at least.

In truth, he wanted to know you. Ask you more questions than he was sure any normal person would probably be comfortable with. He wanted to see what was out here in the wilderness that seemed to draw you in so much that you returned day-after-day.

Then again, maybe you were meeting someone. A boyfriend, a girlfriend—a lover.

The thought makes his heart squeeze, which makes him feel just the least bit pathetic. He was no longer the boy he once was. The one that all other guys at Hawkins High wished to be, and all the girls there wished to be with. He'd become an after-thought to all of them now, he was sure. His glory days were long behind him.

But perhaps new memories could still be made.

The Camaro's tires crunch over twigs and dried leaves, rolling slowly between swaying trees of green, the path becoming more and more narrow until there's no place left for him to even turn around. He sighs, knowing he'll have to reverse the entire way back out of here.

He puts the sedan into park, exiting, his arms resting on the top of the car and the door frame as he gazes ahead, wondering what direction you'd possibly gone. He shakes his head then, closing and locking the driver's side door, pocketing his keys before—at least attempting, to follow after you.

The forest is littered with trees all around, Billy winding his way through them, looking back over his shoulder occasionally, wondering if he shouldn't head back to his car and go home. You were long gone by now. Maybe you'd already circled back around yourself, heading out and to...wherever it is that you live.

This was a stupid idea. Not that he hasn't had worse.

Just as he's ready to throw in the towel and settle for you remaining a mystery to him—perhaps he'd take the alternative of having answers to instead making up tales about you, who you are, where you go, and what you do when you get there—he comes into a clearing of tall grass, a rusted steel windmill in the distance, and a two-story house that looks just a tad dilapidated to the right of it.

Surely you weren't in there?

He continues walking, glad he's wearing pants as the weeds brush against his knees. He climbs the broken front steps, the wooden banisters rotting, until he's standing before a screen door at the front of the home—or, rather, house. A home at one time to someone, he was sure. But no longer, as it'd been clearly abandoned long-ago.

He raises his fist, wondering if maybe he should knock first, then lowers it.

He pulls the door toward him, stepping inside.

He takes a moment to look around first, glancing to each side of the empty domicile. A dining room is to his right, with a table that carpenter bees have clearly been making a meal out of for some time, and a sitting room to the left, an old sofa with missing cushions in the middle of it, a coffee table covered in dust before it.

He then heads for the staircase that lies straight-ahead.

The steps creak under his heavy boots, and he fears one of his feet may just fall through one if he doesn't step carefully. Once he's reached the second-story landing, he lets loose a small breath of relief.

He turns to his left and sees a long hallway, multiple doors on either side, some open, some closed, the summer sun shining against fading yellow wallpaper through open and broken windows within the rooms.

"Hello?" He calls, only half-expecting a response...which he's not given.

He begins to head down the hall, only peeking into the rooms as he passes them, looking for you.

"Anybody here?" He tries again, and is once again met with silence; only the sound of a gentle breeze outside greets him.

He stops when he finds a room three doors down on his right that has a dirty mattress on the floor. He doesn't want to imagine the things you'd discover—new kinds of bacteria—if you took a blacklight to it.

He stands in the middle of what he assumes used to be a bedroom, hands on his hips, and he looks to the open window at his right, a soft wind causing the tattered curtains to billow.

And then he hears it. A small creak to his left, and it's only then that he realizes there's a closet, with double doors, and he sees something shift on the other side through the wooden slits.

His heart begins to beat a bit faster as he comes closer, hands resting over the small knobs, and when he pulls it open, you're standing in the middle, back against the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes.

He looks down at you, heart skipping a beat, breath taken from him for just a moment at the sight of you. You were...beautiful.

"What're you hiding in a closet for?" He asks, then kicking himself. Hell of an opening, Billy.

Your brows furrow, wondering how it's not obvious. "I was hiding from you. Who...who are you?"

You take a step toward him and he takes one back.

He slides his hands into his pockets. "Billy...Hargrove. I live just-"

"I don't care. Why are you here?"

He raises a brow. Not quite the meek little mouse he'd initially assumed, then.

He takes a look around before settling his eyes back on you once again. "Thought this place was empty."

"Well...I'm here. I found it first."

His lip twitches. "So, this is where you've been coming every day for two weeks, huh?"

You shift uncomfortably. "How do you know that...?"

He jerks his head. "Saw you on my drive home last couple of weeks." He reaches up with his right hand then, running it over the curls at the back of his head nervously. "I got curious, I guess. About what was out here that was so interesting to make you keep coming back over and over again."

He looks back to the mattress, then to you. "You don't sleep here, do you, kid?"

You cross your arms at the infantilizing term. "I don't see how that's any of your business. Now that you know what's out here, feel free to leave."

He smirks. You were a firecracker. That much was for certain. Almost reminds him of himself once upon a time.

"Place looks like it should be condemned. If not tore down altogether."

You balk then. "You won't tell anyone. Will you?"

He shakes his head. "No. But, you do know it's not safe for you here, right? All alone like th-"

You pick up your backpack, shrugging it on. "I'm fine."

You head into another room, trying to get away from him—or, rather, hoping he'll finally get the hint that you'd like for him to leave—and he follows along behind you.

"Never told me your name."

You roll your eyes and stay silent.

He nods. "Strong, silent type, I get it. Guess I'll just have to guess. Is it-"

You turn back to him then, and he nearly trips trying not to fall against you. "Y/N."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Y/N."

You cock your head to the side for a moment. "I doubt it."

You head into another room then, slamming the door in his face.

He just grins as he turns the handle...and discovers it's now locked from the other side, smile falling.

He knocks then and is, of course, given no response.

He leans against the wall with his shoulder, arms crossed and he licks his lips. "I can wait all day. Got no place better to be."

All is quiet, until he hears something being shoved open on the other side of the door—a window? And then a thump.

Were...were you climbing down the side of the damn house?

He turns the handle again to no avail, so he then quickly walks down the hall, racing down the steps, and when he rounds the side of the house, he sees you jogging through the tall weeds, backpack bouncing as you disappear into the tree line.

He crosses his arms, smiling, shaking his head. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he mutters to himself before turning around to start heading back to his car.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

[skylordhorus]

oh NO

#*deep space noises* #eritha plays danganronpa 2 #i thought he'd last until the end of the game after that first time fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #id recommend blacklisting my play tag if u too do not want spoilers for a 10+ year old game lmao #im going to find it harder and harder to be suitably cryptic

[roosterforme]

Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.

Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger

Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 

"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."

At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.

"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."

You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 

He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."

You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."

He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 

"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."

Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 

But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 

You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."

You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."

"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 

It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."

"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.

"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 

You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.

"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."

Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.

"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 

"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."

He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.

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

"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.

"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."

"Can I try one?"

"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 

Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 

"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 

"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"

"Yeah, it's fucking good."

A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.

"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."

Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 

Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"

The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.

I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?

He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 

"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.

"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.

I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.

When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"

"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 

Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.

Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.

Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."

"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 

Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.

Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.

But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."

"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.

"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 

"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 

When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."

You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."

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

When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.

"Home?"

He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."

"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."

Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."

"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 

"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."

You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"

The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."

The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."

The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."

You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 

"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.

"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 

Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 

"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."

"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.

You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 

"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.

"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."

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

You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

#jake hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #sundays are for the boys

[suiana]

✎ yandere! side character that's the hot guy everyone wants to pursue in the hit otome game 'last waltz'!!! too bad he's only a side character and not one of the love interests

✎ yandere! side character that rides a super cool motorcycle and has multiple piercings. fuck he's so hot- wait he plays the electric guitar too?! why's he only a side character and not a love interest?!

✎ yandere! side character that's... sentient?! huh he's the only love interest for you now?! you're not complaining though, he makes things super spicy 😈😈

✎ yandere! side character that is obsessed with you. that's why you get special treatment :3 he was supposed to be one of the love interests but he's a sentient being and changed the code to become a side character for everyone instead.

"hold on tight baby. we're gonna go fast."

he laughs as an angry man in an expensive car chases after the both of you. you see, you had somehow isekai'd into the world of 'last waltz', a hit otome game back in your world. and you were on a date with one of the boring love interests until the hot side character you loved whisked you off your feet and practically kidnapped you from the love interest.

it was a funny thing to see, a side character fighting with one of the love interests. but who were you kidding, this guy was practically meant to be one of the love interests! his story and everything was so well developed and he had the looks too! it's just funny that he's a side character... that's in love with you?!

back in your world he'd often pop up when he wasn't supposed to, going on dates with your virtual avatar and... some other spicy things. like removing your in game clothes while you were asleep and leaving you in shock when you entered the game again.

at first you thought it was just a glitch. but a glitch couldn't be like this, right?! literally creating new whole stories and events just with him?! with the other love interests not even having a chance with you?!

you tried sharing your experience with others online, but it never worked. it was like there was some unknown force stopping you from doing so... your phone suddenly running out of battery, the app glitching out... it was so weird that you just gave up.

and then you were suddenly isekai'd into the game?? nothing made sense anymore. so you just lived like the main character, going on dates with hot love interests, taking their money and relishing in their constant love and affection... until the side character popped up and began to replace the love interests.

whatever, he was your favourite character anyways. and you knew he knew it. I mean, why else would he be smirking as you leaned into his touch as he sped away from the angry love interest?

"they must love me... more than the boring love interest at least."

he seemed to be in his own thoughts as he laughed boisterously. you ignored him, simply resting your head against his broad shoulders as the constant honking from the other love interest slowly faded away.

hm. you wonder if the side character will be as rough as other times. after all, the route he seems to be taking... is to his house. and whenever you were at his house, it always ended up with you in his bed. naked.

oh well.

whatever, it was just a virtual world. you'd be out soon so it doesn't matter.

right?

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere side character #yandere side character x reader #male yandere #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[ginevrapng]

you write fwb!james letters. you don't see each other in most classes and thanks to james don't pass each other in the hallways either because of that you slip him letters other ways. when you are in the same class you go past his desk and slip a note under his unopened textbook. you'll transfigure your notes into different things, over time james has gotten use to having things turn up in his bag that he swears he doesn't own before he realises it's you transfiguring different things and he swears every time you make it your mission to transfigure it into weirder and weirder things, he won't know how to explain it if someone ever saw a muggle garden gnome in his bag.

every time he reads your notes he has to make sure he's alone and no one will come in and interrupt him, not just because they're notes from you but also because said notes make his trousers tighten and his cheeks red, thinking about all the things you wrote to him and imagining what he'd do if you were there with him.

"i saw you in charms today and you looked pretty, i wanted to drag you out of the classroom and kiss you until our lips looked swollen and we have to separate to breathe." james thought you looked pretty that day too.

"i went to see your quidditch game. you're actually pretty good. your hair was even more messy than normal though." when james read that he flung himself on his bed, holding the back of his hand to his forehead, grinning. you don't like quidditch. you came anyway.

"when do you think we'll see each other next?" soon, he hopes.

"i think i'm starting my period, my breasts are tender :( you're always good with your hands." the implications makes his head fuzzy. he'd absolutely look after you, he'd touch you gently and make you feel better. he'd hug you softly if you'd let him and do anything that'll help you feel a bit better.

"can you touch me in history of magic again?"

"some information that you might want to know: i'm on birth control."

"next time i see you i want to give you a blowjob. you didn't take your shirt off last time but you have to next time, it's not fair."

james mumbles, "you're killing me" under his breath.

he can't bring himself to ever throw the letters away, they're from you. he sometimes reread the letters late at night while jerking off and thinking of you and the things he'll do the next time he'll see you. he doesn't regret keeping the letters... he doesn't... that is until sirius found them at least.

opening up one james' drawers next to his bedside table he finds your letters to him, curiously sirius glances at the first note and a cocky smirk appears on his face. sirius picks up the whole pile of letters and waves it in the air. "prongs," he says in a singsong voice, "what's this?"

james looks up and sees his friend holding up the notes you've sent to him. he panics but he hides it well, looking away back at the marauders map where he was previously spying on filch.

"i've been fucking with snivellus. i've been sending him love letters." he keeps his tone as even as he can, sirius can't know they're from you.

"this isn't your handwriting james," he replies still smirking.

"anybody can change their handwriting sirius." james says still looking down but he hasn't been paying attention to the map as soon as sirius found the letters.

he doesn't say anything for a second until, "fair enough." sirius plops down on the bed next to james looking over his shoulder at the map. "why didn't you tell the rest of us though?" sirius questions suddenly as he just thought about it.

"didn't think it was that important." james doesn't know if sirius will believe him so before sirius can think it through james starts talking about their quidditch game coming up.

sirius has no reason to doubt james in the end and even gives him ideas in the following weeks to write to snape. he'll have to be more careful next time with hiding your notes, he still won't throw them away though.

#james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter hc #fwb!james #james potter fic #james potter x reader smut #james potter x you #marauders smut #marauders fic #♡ james #hp #harry potter #hp x reader #harry potter x reader #hp x reader smut #harry potter x reader smut #my man was nearly caught <3 #♡ mine / writing #don’t let the muggles get queue down

[sceletaflores]

Can you please please please write a smut FIC where reader and Mike is on the Night Shift and we end up thigh ridinggg!!!!

- ps we call him Mikey 😭😭😭

Body Language

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

word count: ofc it's 1.9k+

warnings: nsfw 18+

authors note: hi anon! thanks so much for the ask, i had so much fun writing it! hope you love it! mwah <333

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦

“About time you finally show up.”

Were the first words Mike heard as soon as he walked into the security office of Freddy’s. He sighed loudly, shrugging his rain coat off to hang it on the back of the door.

"Don't start," he said gruffly.

Mike turned to face you, your body leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over your chest. You had a smug smile on your face. "I was starting to think you got too scared to come back."

Mike scoffed. "Don't get too excited," He deadpans. "I just had some trouble with the babysitter.”

You don't respond, only following him with your eyes as he walks over and sits down in the one office chair in-front of the monitors. Mike can tell you've been here for a while now, if the half-drunken water bottle and empty protein bar wrapper sitting on the desk is anything to go by.

He only just starts flipping through the different channels when you speak up again. "You're in my seat."

He doesn't look up from the screen when he replies. "You weren't sitting in it."

You scoff loudly, he can hear you push off the wall. The sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer as you walk toward him. "I was sitting in it for thirty minutes before you even got here."

"You sound like a child," He replies, swiveling around to face you. Your body is close enough to slightly loom over his seated form. "Just go get another chair from the dining room."

"No, I was here first. The comfy chair is mine," You press. "You go get a chair."

"Comfy chair" was definitely a stretch, the office chair was only slightly better than the dining chairs.

Mike stares at you for a moment before swiveling back to the monitors. "No." He says, completely dismissing you.

It's quiet for a moment, before you let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." You state, with a small shrug before shoving between Mike and the desk and unceremoniously plopping down in his lap.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mike asks loudly, raising his hands up to avoid touching you. You've already gone back to work, idly flipping through the monitors like this is normal.

"You won't move, so you have to share." You say simply.

Mike stares daggers at your back, slowly placing his hands on either side of the chairs arm rests. "You're crazy." He mutters, but the last thing he's going to do is get up and let you win this weird ass game you've decided to challenge him to.

He tries his best to ignore you, he really does, but after a while he can feel his heart start to beat ever so slightly faster. Mike's not proud enough to admit that you're definitely attractive. He'd always thought that, even though you drive him crazy 90% of the time. You have a gorgeous face, and an amazing figure. Of course he would never tell you any of this, you would never let him hear the end of it.

So he doesn't, but on his lonelier nights, he lets his mind run rampant with visions of you on your knees, mouth open and waiting for his release. Or you on all fours, moans pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as he thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting the spot inside you that makes you light up like a Christmas tree. Or you on your back, hands gripping his hair so tightly because you can't handle how good his mouth feels sucking on your clit.

Those nights are becoming more and more frequent these days, and he can never refrain from shoving his hand down his sleep shorts and fisting his hand over his hard cock furiously until he ruins his boxers.

Mike's brought back from his thoughts running rampant in his head by the mortifying realization that currently, with you mere inches away from his crotch, he's hard as a rock. It's not helping that all he can see is your silhouette directly sitting in front of him. Your curves fully on display, in your form fitting shirt and tight jeans. He can't help the way his eyes scan down your body. Greedily raking from your shoulders to your waist that tapers down to the swell of your ass sitting pretty inches away from his growing bulge.

Worst of all, you just won't stop fidgeting. Tiny, unconscious movements that jostle Mike just enough to make him feel his dick scrape against the zipper of his jeans. All he can do is stare, sweating bullets basically white-knuckling the chair in order to stay still, scared to even breathe too deeply.

Then it all goes to shit in a matter of seconds. You knock the water bottle off the desk trying to switch monitors, and when you go to pick it up you scoot back just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to grind your ass directly over his dick.

Immediately Mike has his hands tight around your hips, jerking you back up into a sitting position as quickly as he can. His whole body going rigid against the chair in embarrassment, eyes wide and mortified.

You're still too, back sitting up straight as a board. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh at him, but you're silent. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly you push the chair out from the desk, sending you and Mike flying backwards. In a flash, you flip to face him sitting directly over his thigh. Slotting your knee between his legs and the chair.

Your pupils are blown, eyes swallowed almost entirely by black. "How long?" You ask, softly. It takes Mike a second for your words to break through the fog clouding his brain, but he's just confused. He tilts his head to this side in question, not trusting his voice to sound anything but fucked.

"How long were you sitting here with this," You specify what you're saying by pushing your knee more firmly against his hard dick, making Mike's hands spasm on your hips and choke out a soft whine. "Before you planned on doing anything with it?"

Mike can do nothing but blink up at you slowly. You look almost predatory, staring at him so fiercely he swears you can see his soul. You still haven't moved, he can feel the warmth radiating between your legs against his thigh. His hands jerk almost unconsciously, trying to get you to grind forward. You smile, looking down at your position splayed over his lap and back up to his face.

"What do you want?" You ask sweetly. "Do you want me to move, Mikey?"

Your words hit him like a truck, he moans loudly, nodding his head frantically. "Yeah? You want me to move?" You ask again, tipping into his personal space, hands flat on his chest. You lean forward, breath puffing out over his ear.

"Move me then." You hiss, directly into his ear.

Mike lets out a guttural groan, eyes snapping shut tightly. He wants to, so badly but he just can't.

"Come on Mikey," You goad, your eyes glassy. "Move me."

Mike opens his eyes, looking down at his grip on your hips. Ever so slightly, he shifts you forward. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting to let out a small moan. Turns out that's all the encouragement Mike needs. He grinds you backward before roughly dragging you forward again. It's absolutely lewd.

"Fuck, Mike." You say breathlessly, chin dropping down to your chest, going completely pliable in his hands letting him move you. He can only stare incredulously at you, beyond shocked that this is really happening. He's waiting to jolt awake home alone in bed with a soiled pair of boxers at any moment.

But he doesn't, you're actually here. Sitting on his lap grinding a wet patch into his jeans. Mike hardly knows what to do with himself. Your body is warm between his hands, alive in ways he never thought to be possible. "Jesus," He whispers to himself, sweat dripping down his brow. “Fuck…!” Mike grits out, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t look”

He feels you falter the slightest bit, hips slowing down a fraction. “Why not?” You ask softly, a hint of insecurity puncturing your tough exterior.

“It’s too much,” Mike admits breathlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t look or I’ll come in my pants.”

You let out a small shocked laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by another moan. Your body trembles with pleasure. "Shit, faster…go faster," You mutter, taking it upon yourself to speed things up. Hips moving frantically on his thigh. Your knee is still slotted tightly to his now aching cock, he can feel every move you make. The friction feels amazing, it's taking everything in him not to hump up against your leg like a horny dog. The heat from your body feels scalding.

The absolute vision you make sends Mike's nerves quivering. He needs more. He brings his hands up to your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb gingerly. Your eyes open, looking back at him, not ceasing your movements.

"Can I?" He pants, hoping to god you understand what he's asking. It takes you a second, but eventually you nod. He tips forward and seals your lips with his. His fingers sliding into your hair to hold your head in place as he kisses you.

He takes control of the kiss, tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You part your lips willingly for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He greedily swallows your moans, groaning all the while.

You break the kiss first, only a string of saliva connects your lips before breaking under the pressure of gravity. Your lips are swollen and red, glossy from kissing.

“Oh god…” Your whimpers ghost over his lips, forehead resting on his. “Oh, god, Mikey…”

“Yeah,” Mike replies, voice deep and scratchy from lack of use, he rolls his hips up the tiniest bit. “Yeah that’s it…Fuck you look so pretty, so pretty for me.”

You nod, hips moving even faster than before, losing the rhythm you’d built up. Your hands fumble down to furiously unzip his hoodie, tearing the zipper down to reveal his plain white tank top underneath. Your hands greedily rake down his chest, nails brushing over his nipples making him whimper out moan.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck, Mike,” You whine, grip tightening into the meat of his chest. He can tell your close without you even saying it.

“Fuck yes, come, come on my thigh.” Mike begs, gripping your hips so tightly it could border on painful.

“Shit! Mikey, I’m gonna come,” Your eyes are screwed shut, sweat making your hair stick to your face.

“Do it.” He pleads, not taking his eyes off your face.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mike can feel your nails digging crescent moons in his chest as you careen over the edge. Hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm, he can almost feel the way your pussy trembles as you work yourself through the aftershocks, cut off little moans forcing their way out of your mouth. Your body finally gives out, tipping forward to lean on his chest, wet breaths puffing against his neck.

Mike follows suit, eyes dropping closed as he unloads into his boxer shorts making a second wet patch seep into his jeans. Hips twitching up every other second. He moans loudly into your hair, trying and failing to muffle his noises.

When you both come back down, it’s silent for a few moments as you both wrack your brains for what to say. As always, you’re the first one to speak up.

“So…” You say between panting breaths, he can feel you start to smile against his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mike chuckles up at the ceiling, pinching your waist lightly.

“Fuck off.”

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.✧ ✦

taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz

#natalia writes! #natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words #this was so fun omg #inbox is always open #!!! <3 #or just talk to me!! #fnaf #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #jhutch #micheal schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson renaissance #micheal schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #micheal schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #micheal schmidt imagine #fnaf x #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #mike fnaf #fnaf smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson x you

[daechvvitas]

BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

how i think each member would be like as a boyfriend part one - hyung line edition

WARNINGS: mentions of daddy k ink, praise k ink, brat taming, d*ggystyle, oral, bee dee ess em, degradation

A/N: this is a mixture of sfw/nsfw. thanks for requesting, anon! minors, dni.

NAMJOON

He's the most self conscious about the songs he writes about you. You're his biggest source of inspiration, so that means he wants the lyrics to be perfect. It throws him off kilter because normally, he can write a song in one sitting. Even in an ER room. But when they're about you, it's different. He likes the challenge, though. He feels like it makes him a better writer.

He points out baby shoes and clothing to you every time you guys are at a store. He's still not sure if he wants to have a kid or not but he can't help but still find the items super fucking adorable.

He has a bit of a daddy k ink. He never thought he would been into it but the first time it slipped out of your mouth, his brain went to static and he fucked you harder than he'd ever done before.

He buys you books specifically curated to your taste. Even more, he buys himself a copy too so that he can keep up with what you like.

He talks you through sex. It's full of a lot of praise and encouragement. "Look how good you're taking me" and the sorts. He also loves hearing validation from you that it feels good and he's doing well.

He hates when the two of you argue but he physically cannot stop himself from having the last word. What can I say? The man likes to be right. And sometimes, that stubbornness can lead to huge blow outs. He always makes it up to you, though. After a cool-off period, he'll come back with calmer logic and won't rest until the situation is resolved.

SEOKJIN

He always makes you meals, even when his schedule is insane. If he has to wake up in the wee hours to have it cooked and waiting in the fridge for you, then so be it.

He's a brat tamer. And he's damn good at it. Even if you don't have a particularly submissive nature, he'll have you a whimpering, shaking mess by the end of the night. But those intense nights come with the best aftercare. He'll run you a bath, make you food, and give you a ton of cuddles.

He's insistent on doing things for you, even if it annoys you. Grabbing things from high places, opening doors... You name it. He just likes showing how much he cares about you through action.

He's the type to jokingly rile you up but then end up actually getting really mad, which leads to arguments that could have been avoided.

Unfortunately, he has a bit of the gamer boyfriend syndrome. He does not like being interrupted when he's playing his games. He is a sucker for you, though. So he's willing to free up one of his hands to give you the attention you so desperately want. And no, he doesn't plan on muting his mic so you better keep those moans quiet.

He takes personal offense if he's not your bias or if you rocking any BT21 character that isn't RJ. He'll definitely give you a playful but bombastic side eye until you either change or admit that he is the only option to be your bias.

YOONGI

He wouldn't consider himself a 'romantic' but he shows that he cares through quality time. Even if you're just in the living room watching a show, he'll always quietly sit next to you. Just so you know he's always there.

Alternatively, he loves when you do the same. His genius lab is a sacred place that even his members don't dare to enter unless it's for work. But for you? It's an open door policy. Your presence motivates him more than it distracts him.

Speaking of his studio, the two of you have definitely fucked there. Multiple times. The first time it happened was just sort of a spur of the moment type of things but now, you live to bend over for him, chest pressed against the knobs of his music equipment as he thrusts into you.

He shares his food with you without any complaints or annoyance. If he notices you want a taste of whatever he has, he immediately offers it to you. Not even just a bite, either. He'll give you the whole thing.

He likes taking his time with you. There's a lot of foreplay where the tongue technology comes in hand. He loves to lick you, taste you, make you fall apart with just his mouth.

He prefers dates at home over dates out of the house, but he'll indulge you if you really want a night out. However, his ideal night would be cooking you both dinner, plenty of whiskey, and of course, you.

HOSEOK

Prepare to be touched all the time. Not even just sexually (though we'll get to that). He's just a very touchy feely boyfriend. Cheek kisses, hugs from behind, gripping your thigh. He just wants to feel your skin against his.

He loves sharing tea with you. He remembers every single piece of gossip you tell him, even if he doesn't know the parties involved, and enthusiastically picks whatever side you're on. In return, he always keeps you updated on the drama and insanity of his members' lives. There's really no secrets between you both.

He's a dom, for sure. When it's just the two of you behind closed doors, he feels comfortable enough to strip back the sunshine side and get to play with the darker side of him without judgement. He also finds it so hot that you trust him enough to go on wilder extremes together — tying you up, blindfolding you, spanking you. He craves having control over you.

His favorite form of aftercare is giving you a massage. Typically, he has you folded up like a pretzel as he has his way with you. So making sure your body is taken care of afterwards is of utmost importance. As he massages you, he likes to sweetly shower you with compliments just so you know that any degradation that occurred during sex does not hold true in real life.

He's the first to like your social media posts. Yes, he has notifications on just to make sure he's the first. It could be a selfie or a random picture of the sky and he's the first on the post, showering you with emojis.

Sometimes, he needs personal space. You didn't do anything wrong. But when things get hard at work or overwhelming in his personal life, he has the tendency to retract instead of engage. He doesn't ever have the heart to tell you that but you can tell by the short answers or less enthused interactions. The best thing you can do is give him that space to work through his head.

#namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #bts headcanons #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts as boyfriends #bts scenarios

[keeksandgigz]

eddie munson x fem! reader

Here's some mean!eddie crumbs cause I'm a whore. Happy Halloween!

cw: mean!eddie, use of a toy, overstimulation, edging, humiliation, dirty talk, orgasm denial

18+ minors dni pls!!! smutty smut smut below the cut!!

You have an issue.

Not one of titanic proportions, not one you'd, like, debate life or death over. It's a bullet- sized issue nestled in the pocket of your panties.

It feels like it's been rumbling against you for hours, while your boyfriend sits next to you on the couch watching some dumb game show. He isn't even paying attention to you, whilst you whine and cry and beg him to turn the finger- sized issue off.

And each time you utter a weak and teary please he yanks at his belt, which he used to bind your hands behind your back after you'd tried to claw your way into your panties and try to turn the toy off at just about after the second time you came.

At that he tutted, a bit mean, a bit pitiful "I told you to keep your fucking hands still. Guess I have to do everything myself, don't I baby?" and boy did he.

He had you bent over the couch, your legs on the comfy cushions (he was mean, not evil) and your upper chest rested on the arm rest, feeling yourself leak through your leggings.

The pressure had let up, providing you with a bit of relief from the constant, almost painful, stimulation that came from sitting down.

Unfortunately, he noticed, just because every once in a while he'd press two fingers right against the seam of your leggings, laughing like a maniac at your screams, keeping the pads of his thick fingers there for a few minutes, wait until your wails become cute little uhn noises. Then he lets up.

"Ed please" you had mumbled the first, second, third time.

"You gotta make up your mind, baby I thought you said no more" and he chuckled at that "Cumming's too much for my little crybaby, huh?" it was a rhetorical question, but even if he wanted you to answer, you wouldn't have been able to.

Words were hard for you, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth as you settled your head on the armrest and began drooling.

He had been doing that for the past hour.

"Keepin' count, baby?" he says, acknowledging you for the first time in twenty minutes, taking a swig of his beer.

"Ed...oh.. I- uhn! You didn't- didn't tell me!" you cry, as you feel his free hand trail up the inside of your thigh, to the side of your butt, then smack. His ringed hand delivering a harsh slap right on the right side of your butt.

At this point you're crying. Edging? Overstimulation? Humiliation? It could have been all three or none of them at the same time.

"C'mon, honey, you're so smart" he coos and caresses your head, almost as if he wants to take a look at your brain, the mechanics of what's got you acting so dumb all of a sudden.

"How 'bout this" he adds, and you feel the cushions shift, trembling. Your ears still only hearing the loud buzz of the bullet nestled between your legs. "How 'bout you give me a... I dunno, an approximation. My big brainy slut, aren't you honey? Y'know what that word means" His chest was against your back now, his hair tickling your cheeks, hot breath directly into your earl, gripping the "leash" end of his belt for dear life.

Every one of his words makes you tremble, and you think you might not make it out of this alive. Think. If it'd been an hour since your last orgasm then--

His knee presses right against your cunt, and you scream. "C'mon spelling bee, thought you had it, saw the few cogs in your brain turn a little" his taunts only make you want to grind back into his knee, chasing the release he's ben so cruelly denying you.

He lets up again, and you breathe.

"I- I think it- It was" and his knee is pressed up right against you again and it's moving. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up-

"What was that, honey? Thought you said something" he laughs again. Cocky little shit.

"Ed- Ed... uhn" and that was his cue to remove his knee.

"Didn't think so. Does my little mathlete have a number now?" he kisses behind your ear and it's wet, needy kisses.

Fuck it, you just decide to guess. "I uh- seven?"

"Lucky number seven" he says, and he lets go of his belt. Suddenly you don't feel him on you anymore.

He's grabbing at the sides of your leggings and you swear to god you hear him gasp.

"Holy fucking shit, baby, you're soaked through" he thumbs at the material of your panties, once again pushing the bullet right against your clit.

His thumb rubs up and down, and with him the bullet toy, which you're surprised is still alive.

He gets you close again, and you let out a weak "Eight," once again slumping on the arm rest.

"Good girl" he says, groping your ass and giving it a couple well- timed smacks, making you jump from your haze. You whine.

"Ed can I please cu-" and you feel him move your panties to the side, reaching for the offending toy and turning it off.

Shit. Shit. Now's the time. He's gonna make you cum.

Instead he slowly unravels the belt from your wrists, slowly massaging the tender flesh. He's pulling up your leggings again and with one last kiss to your cheek, your mouth flung open in shock, he sits back down.

"Eddie! What the fuck?" you plop back down on the couch, the slick between your legs is uncomfortably wet "You're an asshole, y'know that?" you dare say, and all he does is chuckle.

"That'll teach you about being a smartass while I'm watching Jeopardy."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things au

[kuni-is-daddy]

Thinking about toji

Tw: k!dnapping, K!LLING

YANDERE? TOJI X GN JJK SORCERER READER SMUT.

MINORS DNI. MENTIONS BLOOD, CHOKING.

"Megumi.. baby?"toji said with a cracked voice "Yes papa?" "Get a nice job and make papa some money okAy.?"😃👁️👄👁️

Get this, your a jujutsu sorcerer. Your on his list and your so dam FINE. He kidnaps you instead of killing you.

Yeah sure toji loves him some money but how about he makes you his new househusband/wife?

Fucking you over the table while you make meals, his body is so FUCKING big compared to yours.

"cum all over my fukin' cock for me doll. F-fuck yeah just like that. Milk this cock"

You tried to escape a couple times or even attempted to kill him but that just ends up on you being his personal cock sleeve for the night. As he drills into you non stop no matter what you say until you pass out

"oh? Yah fucking sorry now huh? Want me to be gentle with you baby?" He would mock you, grab your throat and rub gently with his thumb on the bone with his big veiny hands. "Daddy's not gonna stop..mhmm shh shh stop crying. Stop fucking crying. Daddy's gonna fuck you well and your gonna stay with me mkay.." he'd slap your ass and tell you to stop moving your thighs so he could go balls deep inside of you. "Aww you can't breathe doll? Mmm but I bet you feel so FUCKING good on this cock right.. look at that bulge in ur belly baby. My cock fits you so well. Ah~ fuck me doll. Just like that.."

You even tried domain expansion but it was no use. As the sky turned pitched black when you turned around from running deep in the forest with him chasing after you and Shinto shrines began to form from it. He lunged at you, leaving your expansion incomplete as you went to dodge. Of course.. toji fucked you last night so your legs gave out and he knocked you out and picked you up bridal style. The faint smell of blood lingered from your nose.

You awoke to your hands and legs tied on a chair.

Toji was snickering under his breath. "I like you y/n. You keep me moving doll, this little fucking game of cat and mouse is getting tiring though. It's as if no matter how much i make you feel at home. And fuck you, you won't fucking stop. Annoying. Me-."

"mmm papa.. it's time for my m-medicine" poor little megumi had to come downstairs and see his "new momma/papa" all tied up and bleeding. He still gave a blank stare as if he was use to this. One day after prepping dinner toji came late and before that megumi mentioned how you we're the first one "Papa liked and hasn't got rid of" "yeah.. my real mommy. She died. But I heard papa saying earlier you we're really pwetty(pretty) and he is right! Your a great pawrent (parent) papa should be nice to you though.."

Flash forward. Toji sighed. What the hell has his life come too. He uses you like a cocksleve and cant even afford his son's medication.

Maybe he should change. Or maybe, you should change him.

The next day toji didn't touch you. He made breakfast for the 3 of you. It was awkward considering how you we're always tied up for "family meals" and your cursed objects we're locked away. But after what megumi said about his mom. You stopped trying to fight back. Or at least that's what toji thought...

Part 2?

#toji thirst #jujutsu kaisen #toji scenarios #toji smut #toji x you #toji imagine #toji headcanons #yandere toji #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fic #toji fushiguro #toji one shot #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji

[monarchisms]

so this is the unintentional part two of that summary post i made with geoff talking about the end of achievement hunter. for this post, i'm going to try my best to sum up what michael, trevor, and joe (but not alfredo because he was sick at the time 😔) have said about what will happen in the future on the penultimate episode of off topic, #403. there won't be a transcript this time as i am busy with schoolwork and stuff, so i'll try to make this summary as filled with as much accurate information as i can to make up for it :)

so basically,

trevor starts off by saying they'll be doing the last of various series to wrap everything up. he also notes that some of these finales will be "more nostalgic"

one of the series finales that's up right now is vs episode #150: joe vs BK. the game they played is cooking mama!

after the series finale of off topic (#404 lol), the final AH video ever will be a let's play in the remastered version of burnout paradise, and the cast will consist of geoff, jack, trevor, and michael. this is a callback to the first ever AH video they did back in 2008, and it's already been filmed! trevor says it was more emotional then he thought it would be :')

michael explains that the video will essentially be a ~70-minute podcast. in it, they'll talk more about the end of achievement hunter, where the cast members have went/what they've all moved on to, and new projects that they'll working on. he also says that he thinks that people will call this video "cathartic" while comparing the vibe to their old gta v series, sunday driving

not as important, but michael said that he was mindlessly driving and turning in burnout paradise in the same way that he'd run and jump in minecraft because he "fucking hated" playing minecraft lmfao

as said before, they decided to close AH and start something new with dogbark instead of continuing like they used to. michael acknowledges that in the last few years, most of the crew had already left rt in some way or moved on to other stuff within the company, leaving just michael, trevor, alfredo, and joe as the most consistent on-screen talent by the end. *bonus bit that wasn't mentioned until later, but alongside these 4, jarren from the post team will be their channel manager for dogbark :)

as this group makes videos for dogbark, michael says that their stuff will be both "tonally different" and "very fluid" as they're still figuring it out as they go, noting that they were balancing it and AH/let's play content at the same time

michael also talks about how he's been doing what he's wanted to do at AH for a long time, but there were some things he still couldn't do within the constraints the AH crew had put on themselves

while there will be some gameplay stuff on the dogbark channel, as mentioned in this episode and the channel trailer, they will primarily focus on live action content. trevor makes a point by saying that the style/theme in the trailer will "not be pervasive throughout the entire brand", and michael adds on to that by saying the trailer "is at 100, but every video won't be at 100"

michael and trevor make a point by saying that there will be more variety, as in "a dozen little formats", not necessarily like the shows/series they made at AH, with joe saying that they're not trying to "tie themselves down" to strict uploads and such, like they were when they were previously fitting into a mold at AH

trevor says that he has seen achievement hunter, and rooster teeth as a whole, having a unique challenge ahead of them. he refers to making content that appeals to an audience who had been following them since the early days while trying to also find new faces, both out there in the audience and internally at the company, in order for AH to stay around

he also points out how difficult it is to do that with a long-standing brand that has had different eras of content, since there would be an audience with differing expectations for them. with that, it became hard for the AH crew to balance said expectations with the authenticity they tried to show in the content they created. the crew has changed as people alongside their audience, and the stress that came with it was challenging

michael stresses that the group not only chose to make a new channel completely, they also had to fight for it for a while, and wanted to slow down on AH content before properly closing/archiving the channel to create dogbark. beyond the struggles of creating something new from scratch, they now have the challenge of preparing the audience for the jump from AH to dogbark while thinking about all the pros and cons before going forward

this week (the week of september 18th) and next week (the week of september 25th) are the last weeks of new AH content. after that, there will be a 1 or 2-day break before dogbark properly starts making new content on october 2nd. trevor feels like people will get a better idea of what dogbark is after a month or two of them uploading content

finally (subject to change, of course), they want to aim for full uploads every monday and friday, with patreon-like exclusive videos with rt first every wednesday and saturday. one of the confirmed things to expect is a first-exclusive podcast. the first week dogbark officially starts, all that content will be public as a sample of what to expect, and every week after that will follow that schedule

#trevor collins #michael jones #joe lee #achievement hunter #dogbark #off topic podcast #off topic ah #long post #i sort of threw out the order in which they talk about stuff #since they come back to some points a bit later on #it'd be a bit more confusing if i let it be #there may be more i could add in the post but it's probably better to watch/listen to the first ~1/3 of the episode #for example: #there's also a bit where michael says that it's nice for the group to have complete full ownership of something #and that genuinely made me so happy #ough... if only they still weren't under rt..... #like i said before. make of all of this as you will

[ronearoundblindly]

Ro, darling

A and Q for Hideout Steve (I thought about requesting Z and then realised, for him, it’s everywhere 😂

For this ask game, and they are dirtayyyyyy.

Little different than general solo steve and I'll elaborate on when he's soft-spoken vs. loud (Low key hilarious that Hideout!Steve is soooooo sensitive and Fools!Steve is the polar opposite.)

MINORS DNI. I know you're sick of me saying it, but this is not for youngsters. I will not hesitate to let you know when a fic is all-age friendly!

A - Alone Time

Let's start from the beginning. When 'Grant' first starting visiting the motel, he really didn't have any dreams/delusions/fantasies about having a love life, and since Steve always imagined he'd only have sex with someone he was able to court and know pretty well, he resigned himself to never finding someone until his exile ended. (Considering in canon, it never really ended, we see he had a point.)

Once something does develop between you, despite all odds, he gets to hope, and hope is a drug to Steve Rogers.

He doesn't have a lot of time where he's truly alone while bunking with Natasha and Sam--sometimes Wanda and Viz, too--so I feel like Steve has mastered the art of innocent imagination. When he thinks of you it's not graphic, not unless he can be in a separate room or, preferably, building than the rest of his group.

They all understand though. Each of them clammers for some distance as often as is safe.

Bathing marks the only real and consistent time Steve has alone, meaning you helping wash his hair in the tub counts as a double whammy to his fantasies.

There was a lot of crossover in his dreams that night since the association is too strong. He touches himself in the shower, you were in the bathroom with him, and thus, he dreamt of you touching him in the shower. He woke up to that being almost the reality, too, so that wet dream has been pretty consistently on repeat.

From that point on, the urge to imagine what could happen gets much worse. The group doesn't have a routine. They bounce from place to place and spend wildly different amounts of time in each location. To date, the motel is only one of three places they've stayed two times, and it is the only place they've gone back to more than twice. It's not fucking rocket science to understand what's so appealing to Steve that he nudges and hints at returning as often as is strategically plausible.

If by chance Steve actually gets a room to himself and is truly alone for a few hours, it's difficult not to take advantage, spread out, and sleep, however, but he sleeps even better after writhing around as a horny mess for about twenty minutes, working himself up, humping the mattress and his hand, moaning into the pillows like a whore (at least he thinks he sounds like those 'painted' women back in the '30s and '40s), and coming hard on his abs. He vaguely knows he's a glutton for punishment by how long he tries to milk his orgasm. It works though. He can last a bit longer now--even with the vivid memory of what it feels like to be inside you--yet he doesn't really need to last when his alone time is so limited. Should he...practice that? Should he be trying to hold out longer?

Dillema!

Q - Quiet Please

sjdbviuarb;viubsnlvk

oops, sorry, got lost in my thots about how loud Steve can get while fucking you. Honestly, if you two have enough privacy, he's even goddamn noisy while eating you out.

As I hope I've established many times, Steve Rogers in any universe can't talk dirty to save his life. He can lie better than he can say words like 'fuck,' or 'cunt,' and will never ever say the word 'pussy' in reference to your body or a cat (now that he knows what some people use the term for). I have no clue why 'cunt' would be better than 'pussy,' but 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is my headcanon so here we go. He uses any curse words so seldom that it doesn't really matter. He'd have to be pretty surprised by the intensity of something or at peak possessiveness to utter stuff like that. (If he has to reference it, usually he just says "you're so wet," "you're squeezing me so tight," or "do you need me?" Very general, no bad words required.)

ANYWHO: volume.

As much as I ::melts:: love the idea of Steve getting louder when he's tired, he has grown to enjoy the thrill of being quiet and sneaky.

He's got to get his kicks somewhere, right? So he's almost trained himself to be completely silent (to the point of holding his breath, which is a whole other kink for way later) while he imagines that you can travel with them for some reason. It's a fantasy; he hasn't worked out the details. He'd still want to be buried inside you or fingering you till you come if you had to share a room with the group for a night. He'll be quiet if you will. They'll never know. He promises. Please, Tops. Please. He wants to touch you, to hold you, to feel you everywhere...

Yup, Steve can be silent as the grave or hitting opera notes; it's all good as long as he gets to be with you.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Hideout Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

One more cowboy cat for the road!

#ro answers #dirty asks #ask game #hideout series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x you #nomad steve

[starlostseungmin]

seungmin is the type to have a roast battle with his s/o pls 😭 i feel like being his partner would be so so fun bcs u never know what this man wants to do?? he'd be like hey baby date in 10 mins and by date he means walking around the neighborhood to feed puppies or some shit like that

— claw machine, ksm.

i have merged your two soft thoughts so i hope this is just the way you were thinking about !!

side note: please do not send in requests, this is only for my soft hours writings thanks! ✨🤍

there’s never a dull moment when you two are together, with all the endless bickering and debates, the sarcasm and jokes that are half meant, seungmin would always get away with it. by what it means, he always wins. he loves to see that fuming face of yours whenever he annoys you, he would laugh at your clumsiness, especially when you fall on your face. there are times when he tries to bite your hand when you feed him food or pull away your headphones when you’re spacing out with the song you were listening to. the way he would be sweet-talking you but with a mixture of playful manner and annoying nicknames such as pipsqueak and nincompoop. 

“there’s a mini-arcade at the park in the neighborhood tonight, you want to go?” he asked a while ago when you and now both of you are outside. strolling around the park where a few game booths were being installed. 

“there’s a claw machine! you know i love those,” you said when he scoffed in response. 

“you suck at playing that,” he said. 

“ya, kim seungmin!” he loves it when you call out his name like that. a sign of triumph that he is proud of. but it is not every time he’d claim victory when he knew he has a soft spot for you. he would come back apologizing when he feels you’re upset and shower you with hugs and kisses. yet, you can’t stay mad at him, and you never felt upset, you just love acting like you were for cuddles. and because they were all jokes, seungmin would never hurt your feelings recklessly. 

“what? have you ever gotten a plushie? you wasted money the last time we played together,” he retorted. 

“and what? can you do any better?” you said rolling your eyes. 

“stand back and watch,” he said and bought tokens from the booth. you stood beside him as he inserted two coins into the machine, he was aiming for a pochacco plush for the sake of his leisure but ended up failing on the first try. 

“damn, the claws are slippery,” he sighed in disbelief and inserted coins again, still failing on the second try.

“you just suck,” you said, laughing at his grimace. 

“shut up,” he said, not taking his eyes from the game and still letting the plushie slip from the claws. 

“way to go, sucker,” you said rolling your eyes. 

“i’m trying my best to win a plushie for you,” he said, shaking his head while you pout your lips. “don’t pout, or i’ll kiss you right here,” he smirked as you smacked his arm lightly making him laugh. “oww!” 

“i hate you,” you said. 

“i love you more,” and by miracle, seungmin managed to get two. one was pochacco and the other one was a pompompurin one. two of his favorite sanrio characters but of course, you share the same love as him. you didn’t know how he did that but it was awesome. “say your apologies, baby cakes, i won, not just one but two! ha!” 

“eww seungmin! what the fuck did you just call me?” you said with your face painted with disgust.

“baby cakes? pfft,” he snorts.

“peasant! you maniac, i’m choosing minho’s cats over you!” seungmin made a loud gasp, dramatically.

“fine! i’m not giving you one of these and i won’t tag you along when i feed the puppies!” he said as he started to walk away, then regret started to follow.

“no, no, come back!” you cried, chasing after him but he just walked at a faster pace until he ended up running away with the two plushies while you go after him. “kim seungmin! come back here, you dimwit!” you said in between your excited laughs.

“catch me if you can! slowpoke!” he laughed and when you managed to catch him, he’d tackle you for a hug and kiss your face. “sooo, wanna go feed the puppies?” he asked, as if a tail was wagging behind him and ears being folded down. a puppy himself being excited.

“yup!”

and by that, the puppies wagged their tails while enjoying the food you brought with seungmin as you both sit on the sidewalk.

taglist : @wolfchanchan @1-800-lixie @luvhyun3 @lix-ables @zoe8stay @gwynsapphire @cherryhanji @lixesque @seungly @sleepyleeji @comet-falls @kim-seung-mo @ppiri-bahng @myjisung @snow-pegasus @milkybonya @l3visbby @wilczachannn @asters-abditory @tangylemonade @hwan-g @awkwardnesshabitat @chrispychans @therealhyunjingf @jeonginwrld @starseungs @skizzel

#seungmin imagines #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin scenarios #seungmin reactions #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids kim seungmin imagines #stray kids seungmin imagines #skz kim seungmin #skz seungmin imagines #skz kim seungmin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #skz fluff #skz au #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz drabbles #kim seungmin #seungmin #by: starlostseungmin

[cherrycola27]

wonderland

Hey loves! I wrote this for @laracrofted 's 1989TGM challenge!

You left Lemoore in a cloud of dust as you tore down the highway in your cherry red corvette. Large sunglasses covered your eyes as the nearly mid-day sun shined high in the sky.

You had the radio cranked up, blasting anything that you thought would help keep your mind off of what was waiting for you at the end of your drive.

You tapped your thumbs along to the beat before looking down to check your speed. You wanted to get to San Diego before evening traffic set in, but a speeding ticket was not on your to-do list.

You grimaced as you caught sight of the neatly inked tattoo on the side of your right wrist, just below your thumb. A "Q" followed by a heart. It wasn't large, sometimes you forget it was even there.

But when you caught sight of it, you remembered the pain behind it. Not the physical pain, but the emotional.

Most people thought it was a nod to your call sign, "Red Queen," and that's what you let them believe.

But the truth is, it was part of a pair. You had the queen of hearts, and he—he had the king.

You wondered if he still had it. Maybe he got it removed or covered up. You probably should have, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. The tattoo reminded you of a different time. Back when you were young and in love and full of hope. Back before he threw it all away.

You can still remember the day it happened. The hurt that filled your body, and the tears that stung your eyes. It had been five years since you'd seen him—and in five hours, you'd be face to face with him again.

You'd been called to Top Gun from your base in Lemoore. The newly formed Dagger Squadron still riding the high of their last dangerous mission had been tasked with another. Only this time, they needed a stealth pilot, the best of the best, and that was you— Lieutenant Commander Y/N "Red Queen" Alice.

Admiral Beau Simpson had called you personally to deliver the message yesterday. You had your bag packed that night before setting out for North Island today.

You dreaded the whole thing, really, because you knew he would be there, all smiles, waiting for you. He'd probably have a stupid toothpick between his stupid perfect teeth, too, just like the first time you met him.

You were one of three women in your Top Gun class. The two others in your group tended to keep to themselves, but not you. You went toe to toe with the men every day. On most days, your sparing sessions consisted of how many times you could best Jake Seresin.

You and Jake were the best in your cohort, constantly neck and neck for the top spot. When you weren't battling in the sky or in the classroom, you always found yourself having "friendly competions."

One of them ended with Jake kissing you and admission of feelings on both of your parts. But the two of you kept it hush hush. You weren't supposed to be fraternizing.

But that didn't stop the two of you from pushing your luck.

One evening, almost the entire class got together for a game of cards, which turned into strip poker.

Eventually, people got tired or uncomfortable and left. But not you and Jake.

It was the last hand. Jake was down to his boxers. You still had a sports bra and your panties. Jake was confident that he had it in the bag until you flipped your card, and the queen of hearts was staring back at him.

You won in more ways than one that night. You also got your call sign that night—from Jake. He said "Y/N, you and that fucking red queen." And it stuck.

Most people took to calling you just "Red," but not Jake. No, he called you "Queenie."

The two of you fell hard and fast with each other, and on the night before graduation, the two of you snuck out and got matching king and queen of hearts tattos on your right hands.

After graduation, the two of you had the choice of any station you wanted. You had wanted to go somewhere international, but Jake wanted to stay in the US. After wrestling with you feelings, you decided that you would follow him, you loved him.

You had gone to the O Club that night to find him and tell him you'd picked the same duty station has him. Everyone was out celebrating, as you moved through the club, people congratulated you on your first place finish. You thanked them as you looked for Jake, and when you found him, you were horrified.

Some blonde was wrapped around him, and he had his tongue down her throat.

You were heartbroken, to say the least.

You turned on your heels and stormed out of the club to go back to your room and pack your things. You let your commanding officer know that you changed your mind about your duty station as you packed your bags with tears in your eyes.

You blocked Jake's number, deleted him off of you social media, and left without another word. You ghosted him.

That was five years—five long years ago. You never thought you would see Jake again, purposefully avoiding him when both of you were stationed at Lemoore, but with a chance to prove to him just how much better you are, you couldn't pass it up.

It was just after 5:30 when you pulled into the garage of the small rental you'd managed to secure this morning. You grabbed your bags from the trunk of your car and closed the garage door before typing the code on the keypad of the door.

It was a nice little cottage, small, but better than staying in the barracks.

You quickly put away the few groceries you'd stopped for before heading to the bedroom to put your things down and shower.

After washing the drive off of you, you changed into a pair of dark jeans and a red top. You styled your hair, did some simple makeup, and grabbed your purse.

You wanted to get a drink and scope out who was in town, so you headed for the Hard Deck, the hub for anyone who was anyone on base.

You could already feel the eyes on you as you walked into the establishment. You clocked Jake over by the pool table with the rest of the members of the Dagger Squad. Thankfully, it was busy and he didn't see you.

You walked up and took an empty seat at the bar. "Evening, dear, what can I get for you?" The kind woman behind the bar asked you.

"Old Fashioned with extra cherries, please." You replied back with a smile before handing over your ID and credit card. "Would you like to start a tab?" She asks you.

"Yes Ma'am." You confirmed. "Wonderful. My name's Penny if you need anything." Penny said as she slid you your drink.

"Thank you. I'm Y/N, but you can call me Red." You tell her.

"Call sign?" Penny asks you. "Yes, well, it's actually Red Queen, but most everyone just calls me Red." You clarify. "You're the stealth pilot they brought in." Penny says you shoot her a questioning glance.

"My fiancée is Captain Mitchell, Maverick. He's the leader of the Daggers." Penny explains. You nod your head in understanding and take a sip of your drink.

You manage to get through a second one before a tall African-American man with a regulation mustache slides up beside you and starts talking to you.

"Well, hello there, beautiful, don't thing I've ever seen you in here before." He says smoothly as he smiles at you.

"I'm Payback." He says cool as he extends his hand for you to shake. You put out your right and return it. You catch Payback glancing down and your hand, you quickly pull it back.

"I'm Red." You introduce yourself. "And I'm not interested." You shut him down before turning back to face the bar. Payback stands there, dumbfounded as he waits for Penny to bring him another round of beers. He collects them and walks back to his friend group, with hus tail between his legs.

"A swing and a miss!" Fanboy laughed as Payback rejoined the group with drinks. "Don't take it too hard buddy, at least you tried." Fanboy clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's the last time I let y'all talk me into shooting my shot." Payback sighed as he took a drink.

"What did you say to her man? She took you down faster than a SAM!" Rooster chuckled.

"I literally said that I hadn't seen her in here before, and I told her my name. She responded with 'I'm Red, and I'm not interested.' Like she didn't even give me a chance." Payback groand as his fellow aviators laughed at his misfortune. Jake was leaning over the pool table, but at the mention of the name Red, his ears perked up.

Surely, it had to be a coincidence. There had to be another stealth pilot with 'Red' as their call sign. He looked towards the bar where Payback had come from, but he didn't see you. Jake shook it off, letting the glimmer of hope he had die.

"Hangman, maybe you might have better luck with her." Payback says as he turns to him. "What do you mean?" Jake questions him.

"She's got a tattoo like yours. A queen of hearts on her right hand. What are the odds. You can charm her with a line about how you're two of a kind or some shit." Payback laughs along with everyone else.

Jake's eyes go wide, a similar call sign he could brush off, but the queen of hearts tattoo, it had to be you.

He roughly shoved his pool cue into Bob's hands and took off towards the bar. He scanned each of the seats, searching for you. He was just about to give up and turn away and laugh at how silly he was when he saw Penny taking a drink to the other side. It was one he immediately recognized.

"Another Old Fashioned, extra cherries." Penny said as she sat the drink down in front of you. "Thank you, Penny. If you don't mind, closing me out. I still need to drive home tonight." You told her. You reached for your wallet to hand her your credit card, but before you could, a long tanned arm stretched out beside you.

You glossed your eyes across it to see a large hand holding out a card towards Penny. When you saw the red ink on his wrist, you knew exactly who it was.

"Penny m'dear, put her drink on my tab." Jake said. Penny darted her eyes between the two of you before taking the card from Jake. He turned, leaning his elbow on the bar, and looked at you.

"Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Queenie." Jake breathed out, an easy smile gracing his face.

"No one calls me that anyone, Hangman. It's Red, or Red Queen, but not fucking Queenie." You spit at him as you gather your things and push away from the bar.

You turn on your heels and walk away from him, leaving your fresh drink abandoned. Jake shakes his head and follows you out into the night.

"C'mon, darlin, don't be like that. Queenie, would you just—" He huffs as he runs to catch up to you. You make it to your car, but before you can unlock the door, Jake runs up behind you and pushes it closed.

"Y/N, can you just stop for five seconds." He pants out.

"What do you want, Jake?" You seethe. "I wanted to say that it's good to see you. That I missed you. And I wanted to ask you why you ghosted me." Jake says.

"I wish I could say the same, but it is not good to see you, I didn't miss you, and I don't owe you any explanation. You're the one who owes me one." You grit out as you push him away from your car to open the door.

"What do you mean, Queenie, you're the one who up and left without so much as a goodbye? What do I have to apologize for?" Jake looks dumbfounded.

You're hurt by his words. He cheated on you and doesn't have the decency to acknowledge it.

"The fact that you don't know what you did wrong tells me everything that I need to know about you. You're still the same old Hangman. I thought maybe you grew up, guess that's what I get for thinking." You shake your head before cranking your car.

The engine roars to life, and you pull out of the parking like that a red blur, leaving Jake in the dust, once again.

Jake kicks the gravel of the parking lot. He shouldn't have played dumb with you. He knows exactly what you're talking about.

Jake thinks back to five years ago. You had told him that you'd been offered your dream duty station in Japan while he was offered his in California. You were going to be half a world away from him.

And maybe it wasn't fair of Jake to ask you to give up your dream for him, but he was in love with you. And when you told Jake that you chose to leave him, he lost his mind.

You had hurt him, and he wanted to hurt you back. So, that night at the O Club, when Krista Johnson, the fucking admiral's daughter came up to him and flirted with him, he didn't turn her down.

It's was stupid, and he knows that now, but he was high on adrenaline, testosterone, and one to many whiskey neats, so Jake went down that rabbit hole.

He remembers kissing her, seeing you running out of the club. At the time, it made him feel good. To know that he broke your heart they same way you broke his.

But in the morning, when he woke up, head pounding and his bed empty, Krista having snuck out in the middle of the night, he no longer felt good.

The thought of what he did left a bitter taste in his mouth. When he tried to call you, you had already blocked his number and changed all of your social media to private.

For five years, the only glimpse Jake got of you was the two by two profile picture you changed every so often. And every time he looked down at his hand, he was reminded of you. The red ink heart etched into his skin, mocking him day after day.

Jake swore that if he ever saw you again, he would make things right. But he knew he'd shattered your heart into a million pieces. So, how do you fix a looking glass that's been broken?

...............

Training with the Daggers was your own personal hell. Not because they were bad pilots, but because of Jake. The rest of the squadron was amazing. Kind, friendly, funny. You fit in with them well. But Jake— he was always there, lurking a few feet away.

Bob was the first one to say something about the less than stellar relationships you and Jake had. You told him it was nothing, but he and everyone else knew better.

After some digging, the squad found out that you and Jake graduated from Top Gun together. Not only that, but you took the top two spots, and you were wingmen. That, coupled with your matching tattoos, led them to the conclusion that you and Jake were once a couple.

They were immediately curious about the two of you. You guess no one told them what becomes of curious minds.

Natasha had tried to ask you about your relationship with Jake, but you shut her down. Claiming that it was a youthful mistake. But eventually, you confided in her about how the two of you fell fast and hard for each other. You told her that your relationship was like flying an F/A-18, loud, crazy, and exhilarating. But things spiraled out of control, and just like when you lose both engines during a flight, you found yourself ejecting.

Jake, on the other hand, spilled his guts the moment Javy and Bradley asked him about you. He sang your praises before telling them how he destroyed what you two had built.

Everyone was throughly and utterly shocked and confused. But now your attitude and the way Jake was acting made so much sense. They understood why you didn't like flying with him, but they also knew that for the sake of the mission coming up, the two of you had to reach some sort of truce.

They just weren't sure how to go about it. If they disclosed your former relationship to someone higher up, there was a chance that one or both of you would get kicked off the mission. The squad knew they couldn't afford trying to train and trust someone new, this close to deployment.

So, after taking, the decided that Jake needed to apologize.

"I'm not talking to her. She fucking hates me!" Jake said as he slammed his locked shut and turned towards the showers. Coyote pushed up from where he was leaning and followed him.

"I would hate you too if I was her, man, I'm not going to lie. But we leave in three days, and I don't want to be stuck on a carrier in the middle of the ocean with you two feuding. You need to at least try. If not for yourself, for the team. You and I both know you can't fly with someone you can't trust. She's supposed to watch our backs when we are out there. Do you really want her to have a reason not to save you if something went south?" Coyote imposes his wisdom on Jake.

"She wouldn't do that." Jake tells him. "You sure about that? Better safe than sorry." Coyote pats him on the shoulder and walks away.

Jake stepped into the shower and let the hot water stream over him. Maybe Coyote was right. It wasn't fair for his personal business to compromise the mission. But Jake also didn't want to admit that he purposes cheated on you to get back at you. You already thought he was a dick. He didn't want to add fuel to the fire. Maybe, just maybe, could figure out a way to apologize without telling you the whole truth.

..............

You never were the type of person who liked to participate in the showmanship of wearing your dress whites and hitting the town the night before deployment.

Which is why you found yourself in your tiny beach cottage, alone, watching TV. A luxury you wouldn't have for a while. You had just started a new episode when someone knocked at your door. It was late, and you had no idea who it could be.

You got up slowly and walked over to the door. You were surprised and disappointed to see that it was Jake.

You went to slam the door in his face. It was bad enough that you'd be stuck on a carrier with him for a few weeks. You didn't want him to dampen you last night of freedom.

Before the door could shut, he wedged his foot in. "Queenie, can we talk. Please?" He begged, flashing his green eyes at you. You sighed, mentally battling with yourself before wordlessly opening the door. A Cheshire cat smile curled on his lips as you let him in.

"What do you want to talk about?" You asked him as you stood across from him in your living room.

"I wanted to apologize for how things ended when we were at Top Gun. I never should have asked you to choose between me and your dream duty station. That wasn't fair of me. I know it's too little, too late. But I wanted to try to clear the air between us before we shipped out." Jake tells you.

"You think that's what I'm mad about? You think that's why I've been upset and ghosted you?" You asked him in disbelief.

"Is that not it?" Jake trys to be coy.

"No! That's not it. I'm mad because you kissed Krista Johnson! You cheated on me!" You say angrily, trying not to scream at him.

"You saw her kiss me that night?" Jake asks you like he doesn't know. "Queenie, baby, she came on to me. I had no idea you saw that. I thought that you were upset because I wanted you to stay with me in California and not go to Japan." Jake tells you with confidence, hoping you'll believe him.

"She kissed you?" You ask him, trying to process. "Yes. She kissed me. Queenie, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I tried to get ahold of you when you never showed up that night, but you had blocked me by then. I didn't even see you that night." Jake lies to you. He can sense that you are buying it.

"So this whole time, I've been angry over a misunderstanding, and I never gave you a chance to explain yourself. Jake—I—I'm sorry." You apologize to him.

"Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for." And he isn't wrong when he says that.

You hug Jake, and he hugs you back. The two of you talk some more and agree to try and put the past behind you and move forward for the sake of the team and the mission.

When you both board the carrier the next day, the rest of the Daggers can tell the tension between the two of you has relaxed, and they are thankful for it.

You are still weary of Jake, but you have a sliver of trust for him now when it comes to flying.

.............

When it came time for the mission, Jake was one of the solo pilots chosen to fly it. You would provide stealth coverage and clean up if needed. That night on the carrier, you went to find Jake to talk to him.

When you rounded a corner, you stumbled upon him and Coyote chatting.

"Dude, I'm so glad you and Red made up. I'm also glad you didn't ruin it by making out with Krista Johnson again." Coyote laughed before Jake roughly shoved him. You jumped back out of sight to listen.

"Shut up, man!" Jake scolds Coyote. "Why? You and Red made up. I was just joking." Javy throws his hands up in defense.

"I—I didn't tell Queenie the truth when I talked to her. I told her that Krista came on to me and that I didn't know she saw us kissing and that I thought she was mad over the duty station thing. I couldn't risk telling her that I'm the one who flirted with Kritsa. She'd never trust me again." Jake explains.

"Jake, that's so fucking messed up!" Javy whisper shouts.

"If she knew the truth, she would hold it against me. I didn't want her to have a reason not to have my back if something went sideways. I'll tell her the real truth after the mission. Just don't say anything." Jake pleads with Coyote.

Your blood is boiling. You can't believe you let Jake trick you again.

"What the fuck, Hangman." You say as you come out from the shadows.

"Queenie, what are you doing here?" Jake asks you with a deer in the headlights look on his face. "Cut the shit. I heard everything!" You seethe.

"And that's my queue to leave." Coyote says as he ducks out the door.

"I can't believe you!" You scream at Jake as you shove him into his bunk. "You lied to me, again!" You scream.

"Queenie, please. Let's talk about this." Jake begged you. But you had talked to him, and he had lied to you. You were done talking. Your talking had turned to screams.

"How could you? I trusted you! I followed you down the rabbit hole, but nothing is what it seems. You lied to my face, Jake! Because what? You thought I'd let my personal feelings get in the way of a mission? I'd never do that. Even if you were an asshole!" You shout at him.

"Queenie—I—" Jake begins

"I told you to stop fucking calling me that!" You yell as the tears stream down your face.

There's a long pause before you hang your head and speak.

"You hurt me, Jake. For the second time." You tell him in a somber tone.

"You hurt me too, you know?" Jake starts.

"It hurt me that you chose a different duty station because I loved you, and I thought you loved me. But when you said you were going to Japan, it broke my heart. So I flirted with Krista because I knew it would make you jealous. I wanted to hurt you the same way you made me hurt. And when I saw you that night and saw the look of betrayal on your face, it felt good to know that you got hurt." Jake yells at you.

"Well, I hope you feel good now, too." You saw as you swallowed some tears and walked away.

Before you leave his room, you turn back to him. "And just so you know, that night, I was coming to tell you that I had chosen California to be with you."

Jake stays silent as he watches you walk away. He doesn't speak to anyone the rest of the night, and neither do you.

The air is somber the next morning as you and the chosen squadron members go over your pre-flight checks. Before you climb into the cockpit, Jake walks over to talk to you, but he doesn't get the chance because he's ordered to his own plane.

................

The mission goes as planned, a quick in and out, with no issues. But on the way back, a few bandits swoop in. Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster had managed to successfully avoid them, but you and Jake couldn't shake them.

The scene played out in front of you like something out of a book. Jake was out of missiles and out of ammunition.

You could have left him to his own devices and let him get shot down, but you didn't. You swooped in at the last moment with a life-saving shot.

Back on the carrier, there were cheers, hailing you a hero. But you didn't feel like one. You just did you job.

Later that night, Jake came to your bunk.

"Queenie, I wanted to say thank you for saving my life." He spoke softly.

"I was just doing my job." You say coldly, not looking up from your book.

Jake stands there for a few minutes, tension hangs heavy in the air. "Y/N," he breathes out. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about everything. You being back here, seeing you again, I've been driving myself crazy with regret. I wish I could go back in time and take it all back. I mean, I've searched the world for something else to make me feel like what we had before I fucked it all up." Jake admits. You can hear the sorrow in his voice.

"It's too little, too late, Jake." You tell him as you stand up from your bunk.

"Queenie, please, just—" He reaches out for you.

"I drove myself crazy too, Jake, trying to figure out where I went wrong. What we had, well— I thought it was Wonderland. But in the end, I guess we both went mad." You chuckle and shake your head.

Jake opens his mouth to speak again, but you stop him.

"This is the end of us, Jake. This is goodbye. I'm done chasing white rabbits and falling down holes." Jake doesn't argue with you. He nods his head and leaves your room, closing the door behind him, knowing he'd never find anyone like you ever again.

Taging some who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @wkndwlff @thedroneranger @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @skipchat

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #jake hangman fic #jake seresin #lt. jake seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #1989tgm

[viscerax]

Don’t know if I can request here, so if I can’t I’m sorry :( but if so, can I request hcs of finney dating a cheerleader? Maybe cheerleader defending finney with fluff??

Finney Dating a Cheerleader HC's

Okay so, this man was absolutely FLABBERGASTED when he found out you liked him too.

Hes had girls pretend to ask him out as a prank/a form of bullying, so he figured thats just what you were doing

I think he tried to ask you out first, but got super nervous and ended up asking to borrow a pencil... after school.

You asked him out after one of his baseball games. His game ended like 30 minutes after your cheer practice was out, so you ran from the school to the baseball field in time to watch the last ten minutes of the game and asked him out afterwards

Finney just stood there like "Huh??? Me??? 🧍‍♂️" he definitely thought you were either pranking him or you had just gotten him mixed up with someone else.

First date was a football game. Which was a weird date because the two of you didn't really get to hang out until after the game

Finney is SO SO AKWARD. You're his first for everything. First kiss, first partner, first girl to hold his hand, everything.

You constantly joke about how he would probably look good in your uniform, and although he'd never admit it, he's kind of curious now

Now a small scenario

You knew that Finney wasn't popular. You knew about all the mean shit the other girls said about him. Sometimes they'd call him harmless things, like nerd, or weirdo, but what bothered you most was when they would constantly bring up his encounter with the Grabber.

The situation had scarred Finney, physically, mentally, emotionally. He acted like it didn't bother him to much, but you knew how badly it hurt him. So, no one got off without a few bruises from you if they ever brought it up, whether it was to his face or around other people. If you found out, they were done for.

Many people doubted you, since you were a cheerleader. But you could throw a few good punches.

One particular day, some bitch had whispered something to her friend while you were passing by in the hallways. Yoy stopped dead in your tracks, immediately tying your hair into ponytail and turned on the heel of your boots, a very fake smile spreading across your face.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck did you say, bitch?" Your fists were clenched at your sides, and suddenly the girl didn't seem too confident anymore.

"I said that your boyfriend is going to grow up and become some kind of serial killer. So I'd be careful if I were you. The bimbo girlfriend is always the first victim. Unless of course, you go along with him." The girl snickered to herself, but her laugh was cut off as you slammed your fist into her face, making the back of her head collide with her locker. Suddenly, everyone was paying attention. You grabbed a hold of the girls ponytail and tugged it so that she was looking directly into your eyes.

"Finney isn't a fucking serial killer. He's gone through something terrible, and a weak bitch like you would snap. But he didn't. He persisted. So maybe next time, you should be more careful about the lies and shit you say about other people. Especially Finney." You sighed and slammed her head into the lockers again before spinning on your heel, facing the crowd and smiling, taking your hair out of the ponytail and waving as you walked off.

#the black phone #the black phone x reader #black phone edit #headcanon #finney shaw #finney x reader #finney blake #reader is a fucking badass

[radiant-reid]

Omg Cate, after seeing you writing Spencers morning routine… I think we deserve a morning sex smut fic LMAO

i would marry him like this omgggg. i'd literally get on my knees for anyone with hair like this

R18 content below but it's pretty tame

You can never help yourself staring at Spencer in the mornings.

He's always been the most gorgeous person you've ever met but the natural beauty of the morning sunlight only aids in sharpening his cheekbones and lightening his hair.

"Y'doin' it again." He complains, scrunching his eyes closed as he wakes up.

"Can't help it." You reply, running your fingers through his hair and sweeping it out of his face. "Too pretty." You lean forward to place a kiss on his forehead.

His cheeks go redder in the warm morning light than usual, and he turns his face away from facing you which gives you the perfect chance to leave open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

"Sweetheart." He says, almost warningly. His morning voice, the thickness and deepness, spurs on your kisses down his neck. "Mm, we've got work." He shakes his head gently, but the way he's tilting his head suggests he wants you to continue.

"Fuck the BAU." You mumble against his skin, biting down into his skin and leaving a delicious mark.

Spencer giggles at that, the cute morning sound reserved for you. "No, you want me to fuck you."

"There's that genius brain at work." You joke, pulling back to look in his eyes properly for the first time that morning. They're a color engraved in your brain. "Knew I fell in love with you for a reason."

"Oh, I'll show you why you love me." He promises, turning back to face you before swinging his knee over you so he's positioned on top of you.

You grin up at him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling his face down so you can kiss him properly. Your fingers run through his hair, making it messier than the usual morning messiness. With one of his hands, he holds his weight up while the other pushes your shirt up, the coldness of his hand contrasting your warm skin. It doesn't make sense for his hand to be so cold when it's so warm under the comforter, but Spencer's just like that.

In your excitement to get things moving along, you slide your hand down his chest until you reach the waistband of his sweats. With two more kisses, he pulls away and leans back on his knees.

"You're so pretty." He tells you, cupping your jaw and leaning down to kiss you again. His other hand starts unbuttoning the buttons of your pajama shirt. "And so annoying with these damn buttons." He complains, tugging at each of them.

You scoff at him. "But these matching sets are so cute."

"Nothing." He pauses, unbuttoning the last button and opening your shirt, leaving your chest bare. "Beats nothing." He dips his head closer to your chest where he can kiss all over your tits, sucking at your nipples as they harden. It's always been his favorite part of you, although he'd say it's your brain or smile or something cheesy.

You can feel the strands of his hair on your skin and you arch your back like it'll get his mouth even closer to you while you palm his bulge.

"Spence, babe, get on with it," You instruct, having to tug on the ends of his curls to get him to lift his head. Of course, when he does, your skin is covered in pink marks.

"Wanna love my wonderful wife, though." He grumbles as his hands reach to tug down your shorts.

You lift your hips up to help his efforts and let him wiggle down your thighs. "Thought you were just complaining about me making you late."

"Going to be late, especially after a shower, but I." He pauses to start a trail of kisses down your stomach. "Don't." He stops with his mouth against you to finish his sentence. "Care."

"Don't talk a big game you're not going to be able to back up, Spencer Reid." You warn. Jokingly, because he's never left you unsatisfied.

He rolls his eyes and his fingers dance around your folds, nudging inside you with little resistance. "I'll back it up alright, Y/n Reid."

His teasing does get you wound up, but the little reminders about your last name do, too. "Fuck me, please." You beg, pulling down his sweats. He shuffles on top of you, ungracefully getting naked while you pull the covers off so you don't overheat.

"So perfect and desperate for me." He coos, leaning down to kiss you while you stroke him. He bites down on your lip, groaning a little when you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock.

You wrap your legs around his hips, desperately trying to pull him closer. He leans over you again, one hand flat beside your head while he lines himself up and gently thrusts into you. The overwhelming desire to moan comes over you as it usually does and you can't help the volume. He always feels so amazing inside you, stretching you out perfectly.

"Fuck, Spence." You moan, scratching your nails down his back when he starts to move faster.

"You feel so fucking amazing." He groans, eyes still focused on you as he fucks in and out of you.

You lift your hips higher to meet his, tightening your legs around him. He keeps his face so close to you that you can see every pretty detail of it and the frown lines from his concentration. With each thrust, your moans and the sound of your skin against his gets louder and the air in the room gets heavier. His hair sticks closer to his forehead and you know you'll be the one having to wash it in the shower.

"Oh my god." You moan, throwing your head back into the pillow.

"Pretty much." He suggests, smugly. "Getting close?"

It's hard not to when he's pounding you into the mattress, filling you up perfectly with each push and hitting the spot inside you that makes you scream out his name.

You roll your hips even more against his, feeling the friction against your clit. When his nose nudges yours, you fall over the edge, cumming and clenching around his cock. Spencer's just a second behind you, finishing as soon as he's buried as deep as he can get inside you.

Even if he's all sweaty when he flops down on top of you, the post-coital bliss is the best feeling ever.

After a minute, he rolls over onto the bed beside you, nuzzling into your side like he's not 6 feet tall. You wrap your arms and hold him as tightly as he's holding you.

"I love you." He mumbles against your skin.

"I know, you just showed me." You reference his previous statement, feeling his grin against your skin. "And I love you, too."

After a minute of cuddles, you speak up again. "We do need to shower, though."

"And clean up," Spencer adds, touching his neck where a pretty prominent hickey is developing. "I'll never hear the end of it from Morgan if he sees this."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid blurb