#this live was kind of a mess and i loved every second of it

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Make This House A Home - OP81

Request from @zupercoolgirl - Hi! I was thinking about a request and since i love your writing…Here I am! So oscar and reader are together for a while now and they move together in their new apartment and is all new and boxes everywhere and they make love in their new bedroom for the first time🙈🙈

Themes: Smut, edging 👅

No part 2 requests please

Moving into together, they agree to just get an entirely new place. Rather than moving into Oscar's apartment or moving into y/n's, they both made the decision to move into an entirely new place for a kind of a new chapter with each other.

They decided to handle the move on their own, thinking it would be a fun experience. Or at least y/n did. Oscar just went with it.

Now it's just stressed y/n out.

"Unpacking is going to take forever." Y/n states looking at the boxes around them. "How do we own so much stuff?"

Before moving in together, they both sorted through everything and donated or got rid of so much stuff. But how are there so many boxes of just...stuff?!

"It's getting dark..." Y/n whines definitely feeling the weight of the whole situation pressing down on her.

They've got time to sort everything out. It's not a race weekend. But y/n had it in her head that at least half of the boxes would be unpacked and they could be in a semi-liveable apartment.

There's a brief moment that y/n seems to almost twitch at the whole room.

Luckily, Oscar had actually thought ahead and he managed to set up a mattress in the bedroom and get some sheets and blankets on it. At minimum they need a place to sleep, but he also had some other plans in mind.

"Y/n, baby." Oscar smiles trying to soothe his stressed girlfriend as he hugs her from behind while she's practically ignoring him, too focused elsewhere to return the affection. "We have plenty of time and we knew we couldn't get everything unpacked today."

"But-"

"We have time. It's ok. Anyway, I think there's something that is more important." Oscar states watching her almost pale as she turns to look at him, clearly assuming he's going to point out she's forgot something big.

"What?" She asks making him smile. "Oscar..."

"Stop worrying about it." Oscar states with y/n frowning in confusion. "How about I help you relax?"

It takes a couple more seconds for her to properly process what he's suggesting and when it hits, it hits visibly.

"Oh-Oh, ok." Y/n nods relaxing every so slightly. "But we don't have a bed."

"Ah, see this is where you thank the universe for having such a forward thinking boyfriend." Oscar smiles taking her hand and gently pulling her towards the "bedroom" or what will be the bedroom once they've actually unpacked and build the furniture.

Y/n doesn't really get a chance to comment on how sweet it is that he made the bed up, even just in a makeshift way.

Oscar has picked her up lifting her legs up around his waist before he lands them both on the bed, somehow managing to be gentle enough that he doesn't head butt her when he lands on top of her and leads them both directly into a kiss.

"I think there's only one way to make sure that this place feels like home." Oscar states earning a hum. "I was going to say we'll need to bless every corner, but I figured starting on a familiar surface might be the best way to start."

"Bless?" Y/n chokes out but he kisses her again with almost an innocent smile.

"Trust me." Oscar states moving back enough to be able to pull off her shorts.

He moves his lips down her body and smiles seeing her pussy which is always a welcome sight but right now he's definitely going to be making their first night living together something for them both to look back on as a new standard.

"Oscar." Y/n whimpers when Oscar closes the space, practically drooling for her as much as she's dripping for him.

As soon as his mouth is on her, she isn't ashamed to admit that she's a mess beneath him. They have been maybe a little neglectful to each other sexually in the sense that Oscar has been so busy and y/n has been arranging the move while he's been working that sex has sort of been on the back burner.

So maybe they're both a little touch starved.

Oscar's favourite game to play in when it comes to y/n being touched starved is edging her till she's near tears.

"O-Osc-" Her gasp cuts her short when he moves back from her, knowing she was very much about to plunder down into a very rewarding orgasm. "No. Baby, no."

She already knows what he's up to but he'll feign innocence.

"What?" He questions kissing back up her body till he reaches her boobs, god does he love her boobs and making that clear by using them to get a moan from her though he can sense the tension in her building from the deflating of her brush with an orgasm that she was deprived off.

Her back arches feeling two of his fingers push into her while his tongue swirls around her nipple. He can even feel her tummy tensing underneath him and he hears the tell tale whine before completely move back.

The panicked breaths of actually feeling distressed from the fact that he's doing it on purpose and they both know it.

"Please. Oscar." Y/n whines earning a hum as he kisses up to her neck before finally kisses her properly feeling her pull him closer to deepen the kiss for any amount of touch that she can seek some sort of pleasure from.

She's not nearly close enough to tears so Oscar certainly isn't done with her.

So after another 3 close calls of almost letting her orgasm, she's actually borderline hyperventilating when Oscar moves back from her. He's actually about ready to cum just from the sight of her flustered and breathless, almost slightly damp from a dew of sweat.

She's stopped begging, too breathless and honestly having accepts Oscar would go at his own pace and make the decision of when he wants to finally give her the relief her body is aching for.

"I'll stop torturing you." Oscar chuckles not really hiding the fact he's amused by her already being at melting point.

There's practically a puddle on the bed so they'll almost certainly have to dig a towel out and deal with washing sheets tomorrow.

Finally sliding into her, she moans completely oversensitive and the feeling of her nails raking his back as if she's trying to stop him from being cruel enough to actually edge her yet again

Neither of them take that long to finish, Oscar managing to grind down and knock her clit completely sends her over the edge and the impossibly tight hold when her whole body tenses and she whines feeling her whine into his neck feeling the heat of his cum spill into her.

For a few minutes they stay like that, just paused in a bit of a recovery period.

"No." Y/n mumbles when Oscar eventually begins to try and pull out.

"I have to baby. I just want to clean you up...and probably put a towel down if we're sleeping on here tonight." Oscar smiles making her pout but a kiss perks her up a little. "I'll be quick. I promise."

He's not nearly as quick as he wanted to be but eventually he finds the bathroom boxes and gets a cloth and towel. He also gets one of the bottles of water they'd bought from the store to make sure they has something to drink while moving the boxes.

Eventually he's cleaned up like he set out and has the towel underneath them, then pulling the blanket over them deciding that even if they're not going to sleep. They are going to bed.

"I'm gross and sweaty." Y/n mumbles earning a small laugh before he kisses her.

"Me too. But we can fix it tomorrow. If we're both gross and sweaty, does it matter?" Oscar asks while moving a hand up to shift her hair while she hums. "So which part of the house are we blessing next?"

"Oh god...whichever part, I need more mental preparation." Y/n hums before she smiles then nuzzling into his neck. "I'm so tired."

"Me too and since you've going to have us unpacking every box. I think sleep sounds smart."

"Mmm...it doesn't." Y/n yawns already half way there and very much beating him to passing out. Though in her defence he was surprised he even came back from searching through the bathroom stuff to find her awake.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 smut #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #op81 one shot #op81 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 one shot

[insomniumstella]

baby, she's all yours

bucky x fem!reader

warnings: free use (consent to be "used" anytime & anywhere), explicit language, fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), a sprinkle of degradation, a sprinkle of breeding kink, dom!bucky, public sex, light spanking, daddy kink (i should be stopped). this one is bad, so it goes without saying, but MDI

word count: 1,240

author's note: this is a lil' story in celebration of kinktober, which time won't permit me to participate in, but my thoughts always wanted to. ➼ sharp, but oh so gentle

James was hesitant to explore the concept you described as free use at first, and maybe a fraction scared. The two of you had been dating for close to three years, and though things were great, the idea of you introducing free use into the bedroom days after knife play troubled him. His heart has always been heavy with the notion of being too difficult to love and too bothersome to deal with, but you made him feel enough; more than. Special in public when you would proudly hold his hand, and special in the comfort of plush sheets when you would let him cherish you — use and mould you into a drooling mess, obeying every demand. Was proposing a fresh kink a silent plead to advise him you have gotten bored? 

As it turned out, it was. Kind of. The itch beneath your skin urging you to explore foreign waters wasn’t boredom but rather lust. Fiery hot and addicting type of lust that ignited every nerve ending in your body around him. Still does. Introducing Bucky to free use was the best—and the most deliciously infuriating—thing to soothe your constant yearning for his touch. 

It caught you off guard, the first time he complied with the request. Steve had recently purchased an apartment in Brooklyn and organised a small housewarming celebration. You slipped out of the living room and into the kitchen once your glass turned empty, oblivious to the very needy pair of eyes studying you. The music muffled your soft moans then, as James fingered you against the blonde’s new refrigerator, suffocating the whines his thick fingers caused with passionate kisses. 

The second time it happened, it was winter. Powdery layers of snow covered the entirety of New York City, and, as the sun laid to rest for the evening, the streets seemed magical. James and you were rushing to Natasha’s birthday dinner, stopping by Bergdorf Goodman for a last-minute gift. Time around holidays is always strenuous, but the missions almost doubled last year, rustles of a deadly biochemical weapon dampening the joy of Christmas and stealing your attention away from getting Natasha a gift early. Bucky tackled the three bottom floors whilst you handled the other three, scouring the variety of fine jewelry and designer clothing. As fate would have it, a gorgeous sequinned dress piqued your interest, the colour of it overly harsh for the redhead’s complexion but perfectly complimenting to yours. James practically pleaded for you to model it, assuring nobody would notice you being late a minute or two. Desire waltzed in his eyes when you agreed at last, twirling around to present the garment and flaunt how well it flattered your curves. He shoved the two of you into the private dressing room once the sales associate disappeared to bring out a pair of matching heels, closing the curtains and hiking the dress up to your waist. “Be good for me,” he spoke, undoing his zipper and slipping the tip of his cock into your dripping heat, “you wouldn’t want employees to hear us, would you, doll?” You couldn’t think of the gift you ended up buying Natasha, but you can still remember sobbing into Bucky’s hand as his hips feverishly snapped into yours.  

Sometimes, that particular memory makes you wonder if introducing James to free use was a mistake — you’d be lying if you said it was because the thrill of being played with at times you least expect is exhilarating. The agreement caused many risky scenarios, though. There was that instance of Bucky between your legs, lapping at your core during a video call with your sister. The wooden desk shielded him from view as he relished you, but the grimaces on your features were a smidge more difficult to camouflage. “You taste incredible, baby,” Bucky mumbled, flesh and metal hands gripping the softness of your exposed thighs, before eagerly licking your clit. “Couldn’t ever get enough of this pussy.” You inadvertently moaned thrice during the call, disguising the sinful sounds by feigning coughs and attributing your strange demeanour to a common cold. “Tell her the truth,” James teased then, slipping a metal digit inside your needy hole, and you sneakily slapped his shoulder. The unsuspecting woman on screen continued to babble about her upcoming visit as you hit the mute button on your computer because the man below you had zero intentions of easing up. “Can feel you squeezin’,” he groaned, slipping a couple more of his metal digits inside. “Please end the call, peach, so I could fuck you atop this desk already.” 

There was also the time he got annoyed on a road trip, freeing his cock and guiding your head downward to silence your complaints about his driving on unpaved roads. “Be a good girl and put that mouth to better use,” he grunted as you licked drops of pre-cum off his skin. “Na uh, doll,” with his left arm on the steering wheel, James forced the entirety of his length into your mouth, “we ain’t got time for any foreplay shit right now.” 

Furthermore, introducing him to free use is the reason for your current predicament — being bent over the sink at a local bar with Bucky balls deep inside you. 

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” James praises, catching your gaze in the grimy mirror before spanking your velvety hips. “My girl’s such a slut for me, letting me play with her in a random pub’s bathroom.” It’s more of an observation than dirty talk, and you bite back a moan, nodding. “Bet you’re always thinking about daddy’s big cock, wishing you could be bursting full of me forever, aren’t you?” A harsh spank lands on your scorching skin when you don’t immediately answer. “I asked you a question, peach.”

“Yes,” you sob, digging your manicured nails into the base of your palm. “Love it—,” another wail slips past your swollen lips, “love it when you use me, daddy.” 

The pace of his hips slamming into yours remains brutal as he studies your expression in the mirror. “Look at you,” he clutches your chin, the slight pain of it forcing you to peel your eyes open, “my baby’s so fucked out, she’s having trouble speaking.” The steady pulse of your approaching orgasm heightens as Bucky admires the whimpering mess that is you, leaning lower until the slight stubble on his jaw tickles your ear. “Should I let you finish, or should I leave you all desperate and stuffed full of my cum until happy hour’s over?” 

“Please,” you plead, “I’m so close.” 

“That’s too—,” James chuckles through a groan as his own orgasm bursts in syrupy waves, “—bad.” The rhythm of his movements falters and then stops, and if tears weren’t streaming down your face already, you would’ve cried at the loss of contact, feeling terribly empty without Bucky to keep you warm. Though you don’t say a word to him, he can sense your frustration, the weight of your emotions lingering in the atmosphere around you. Slithering his metal hands between your legs, he pushes the cum that leaked out back inside you, thrusting a couple times to soothe your disappointment before withdrawing his touch and shoving your discarded panties into the pocket of his jacket. “Don’t let it drip out if you want a reward when we get home.” A lazy grin stretches across his features. “I promise to make it worth your while.” 

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female!reader

[gremlingottoosilly]

Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 

— What are you doing here? 

Ah. 

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 

— Can’t you talk? 

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 

— What is that? 

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 

— I’m not…that. 

— I can see. 

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 

Hm. 

Is it supposed to be this big? 

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 

— Why? 

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 

— Are you cold? 

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 

— Do you have a husband? 

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 

— Are you going to leave soon? 

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

[astupidweeb69]

The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.

Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!

___________________________________________________________

Your brother hated his new roommate.

From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.

You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.

It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay. 

Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.

But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.

After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.

You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?

He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.

On one condition.

Stay away from Toby.

You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.

But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.

So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport. 

He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.

Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival. 

“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”

It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.

You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.

“You two fighting or something?” 

Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

“Weird how?” 

He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”

“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.

Another pause. This one is longer than before.

“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”

______________________________________________________________

The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.

The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.

After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it. 

The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.

It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment.  “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”

“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.

Time for bed I guess. 

You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.

You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.

The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.

You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.

So you did.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected. 

However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.

Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.

Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking. 

You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.

But he didn’t.

The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.

The fuck?

You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?

You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.

He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face. 

If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.

A hand reached out. 

Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused. 

He was touching you. 

He was touching your face.

Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.

“M-must be the ssss-sister…”

That was the first clear sentence you could understand.

He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing. 

His whispering.

“Soft”

Then he left.

Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.

______________________________________________________________

“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.

It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of,  had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake. 

You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.

From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms. 

You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room. 

You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.

For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man. 

So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself. 

He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.

Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention. 

“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”

“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.” 

You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”

He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”

You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.

“Okay. What time does it-”

A door opened. You stopped talking.

Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound. 

Toby was up.

The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.

He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.

Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.

He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.

“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.

Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.

“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”

“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.

Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.

“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”

Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.

“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?” 

You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone. 

“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”

“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”

Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.

You pretended to be unbothered. 

It didn’t work.

He noticed.

And he liked the way you squirmed.

______________________________________________________________

Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.

You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.

Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.

Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house. 

Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.

God you were going to need a drink to get through this.

Maybe even a couple.

Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.

One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.

You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.

More social.

Less inhibited. 

Numb.

After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room. 

You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand.  You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music. 

And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.

It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.

You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?

Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.

Toby.

He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly. 

Oh god you felt your heart flutter.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.

He creeped you out.

He didn’t shower. 

He smelled like death. 

You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.

And you were already walking over there.

You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.

It was working. 

He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance. 

But you didn’t know that.

You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.

“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”

He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.

“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.

You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”

Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?” 

It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.

“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”

Why did you say that?

Why?

It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.

You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.

“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why. 

“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs. 

Fuck. 

One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.

Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?

He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.

He was strong. 

You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary. 

So why did he turn you on? 

He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.

You barely registered him locking the door behind him.

With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.

You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.

“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick. 

“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.

He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before. 

“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”

You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”

You paused. Was he talking about you? 

“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.

You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue? 

Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.

“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....” 

You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”

Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew. 

He fucking knew the whole time. 

He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other. 

Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner. 

Your bra was next. 

In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea. 

He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention. 

He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.

Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care. 

He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.

A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog. 

After a while, he finally lifted his head up. 

Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt. 

His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately. 

You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”

His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him. 

Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.

He made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.

“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold. 

“...Fuck you bloody.”

Shit this guy was scary.

In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.

You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.

That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought. 

He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.

You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.

“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.

He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.

Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat. 

It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you. 

It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.

“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”

Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.

You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.

Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.

Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.

You screamed.

You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.

You screamed bloody fucking murder.

“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”

Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.

It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.

You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.

The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how. 

Something started to build. 

More and more.

Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.

You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax. 

His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head. 

He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.

His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.

Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.

And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.

“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”

#creepypasta #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #my writing #ticci toby smut #creepypasta smut #fanfiction #ticci toby x you #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader smut

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[scribs-dibs]

i'm an orange moon...

(reflecting the light of the sun)

major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥

wc; ~ 1.6k

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.

The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.

Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.

Which, of course, is no one.

So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.

Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.

So you. You are strange to him.

Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.

“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”

You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”

Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.

“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”

“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.

“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”

You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.

How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?

The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.

And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.

The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.

(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)

“Shall we?”

Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.

Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.

But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.

“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.

“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.

He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.

Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #☆.writing

[xxblairexxss]

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

**

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

#football imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fics #football imagines #football fics #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagines

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Important things said about Buck and Eddie for season 7:

I just think it’s super important we take a look at everything that’s been mentioned by Tim, Oliver, & Ryan about Buck and Eddie. So here’s a comprehensive list of important things mentioned about their storylines and their relationship.

Tim Minear:

"I've had a lot of fun writing Buck and Eddie, and playing their dynamic," he says. "Their friendship is the core of that coupling. I'm trying to hit it in every episode.”

Oliver Stark:

"He's just looking for his happiness, and he's willing to put himself out there again and be open to feeling things. He just wants to be happy.”

“…this really open relationship where they can confide in each other and they can step up and be there for each other in a way that feels very soft. I just think that's a really lovely, and in fact (an) important thing to be able to show on this TV show."

"They've both become quite embedded in each other's lives. "I think they've kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it's just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it."

“We've joked about it over the years of, oh, Buck 1.0, 2.0, 3.0. This is like a whole new upgrade. This is not just a new version. I think we're looking at a brand-new man.”

“I don't think it's a conscious "I know what I want, and I'm going to go and get it." I think it's more just I'm open to things, and I'm open to floating wherever the wind takes me. And if this feels good, great. And if it doesn't, we throw that out and we try something else. I think he's just in a very open phase of his life where he just wants to find the things that bring him joy.”

“Yeah, I feel like he's always had this image or this view of what he should be doing and how life should be looking for him, and I think that can actually be quite restrictive. By him dropping those beliefs and just opening himself up to the world, I think he's going to find himself in a much better position.”

“There's some really beautiful stuff between him and Eddie and kind of them being open and sharing things with each other that they may have been reluctant to share with—I know how that's going to be taken. [Laughs] But it's true. [They're] there for each other in a very kind of open and nonjudgmental way.”

"There's something about the show when you get to see these guys doing their job, but also the personal side and the way those kind of blend together,"

“They get to show up for each other in different ways. Moving forward there’s almost like potential for things to come up in a not so great light. But we get to see their friendship persevering, and them being there in ways they didn’t necessarily expect for each other. And I just, it’s a really lovely journey for them this season.”

Ryan Guzman:

“I think we really want to make an impact on this new network and give everybody exactly what they want, and then something they didn't know they needed.”

"He is actually starting to figure out who he is outside of 'I am an Army man who has a silver badge! ... He's way more than that. He's starting to live in that [feeling] a little bit more, and I think that's freeing to him.”

"It's the blind leading the blind. In a moment of chaos, Eddie doesn't really have a sense of direction, so he reaches out for the closest person, and that closest person is Buck.”

“Outside of Christopher, it was really Buck. He was the next go-to, and I love that friendship. I love how he's able to lean on another male figure and really be vulnerable with this man and allow himself to go there because in today's society, that's not really a thing. And I would love to see that more.”

“So I would say that, yeah, outside of Christopher, Buck would be the second closest thing that he can have as a relationship.”

“And Eddie was a mess. I think at that moment, the friendship had a turning point and now has allowed Buck and Eddie to really share as much or whatever they'd want, the scariest things in the world they could share with each other. And we're going to be seeing more of that this season.”

“I think Eddie's going to have a let go moment. He's going to have some fun, I feel. He is going to have a great time trying to just let go and see where that gets him.”

“Eddie's journey thus far has been fraught with highs and lows, but he's overcome many hardships and has continued to work on becoming the best version of himself and growing into the person he wants to be.”

"I believe these are all very relatable stories, and I don't feel like individuals necessarily find the right partner; I feel like they become the right partner,"

"He's able to be a little bit more honest with himself and maybe slow things down because he would much rather instinctually want to just get into another relationship and be monogamous with one individual and then hope it works out.

"He's taking more calculated steps, so ! believe there's some hope there for Eddie just based on the fact that he has a better sense of who he is."

"And then go to Buck and say, 'I trust you with my child, and I see how much you put in for my son; this goes beyond friendship, and I love you to the core. To have that sense of vulnerability is a sense of strength that has been shown.”

“Well, there’s something brand new for both of us. I can only say that much.”

#buddie #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #oliver stark #ryan guzman #tim minear #911 cast #911 on abc

[greycaelum]

imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes. 

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time. 

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe. 

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart." 

II

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before. 

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #married gojo fluff #gojo satoru x wife #gojo satoru x reader #jjk married gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo kouki #gojo x you #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #husband gojo x wife reader #teen gojo satoru #teen reader

[awfcspencer]

Hey!! Could you write a fic with R being a teenager that plays for arsenal, so shes kind of the baby of the team. In a derby she gets fouled many times and in the end R ends up breaking her leg or something. The team is kind of protective over her and after the match they take care of her. (maybe leah being like her mother figure) Hope that makes sense x

Protective || awfc x reader

awfc x reader, leah williamson x reader (platonic)

prompt: requested

warnings: mentions of injury, mostly fluff

a/n: hope i did this request justice!

Being the youngest on the team came with many, many perks. Your every need was constantly met, the older girls liking it better when you simply didn’t lift a finger, mostly because in some way they thought you would mess something up, but a win is a win, sometimes. On the flip side, being the youngest means you were babied like no other. The girls even adopted the nickname ‘teeny’ because you were one, a teenager, and two, because it sounds like tiny, as you were not only the youngest but also one of the smallest.

You had signed your first professional contract when you turned 18, coming up through the academy, Arsenal was your home, your dream club, and you loved playing for Arsenal. You currently live with Leah because your parents and fellow teammates did not want you living alone, worrying themselves dry with scenarios that would never realistically happen on your own. Moving in with Leah was easy because you had practically known Leah your whole life, looking up to her as a role model and now she was your teammate. Leah had became basically a second mother to you, always making sure you ate breakfast, brushed your teeth, the usual ‘mom’ things. You honestly enjoyed living with her, not that you would ever give her the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

Derby days were always huge for Arsenal, important matches that needed to go in Arsenal’s favor and securing the three points, especially when it was the North London derby. Growing up a lifelong fan of Arsenal, Tottenham Hotspurs were the enemy and battling for North London was always entertaining. Today was going to be the first derby you were actually going go be playing in and starting. You are a dangerous forward and working alongside Frida and Beth, it was sure to be an exciting game.

Unfortunately for you, Leah had come into your room and woke you up far too early. Leah had tried to gently wake up, speaking softly and gently shaking your shoulder, but her efforts were useless because you were stone cold out. She moved to a different approach, getting a running start and jumping straight on your bed, screaming, “Y/N Y/N WAKE UP ITS DERBY DAY!”

The sudden yelling and body on top of you awoke you instantly, frantically scanning the room to see if there was an immediate problem. Only to find Leah laying on you with a cheeky smile before she says, “Well good morning Teeny.”

You couldn’t really ever be actually mad at Leah, but you sure could pretend, loving when you gave her a hard time. You quickly send her the harshest glare you could possibly muster up and simply just push her off of you and exit the bed. She follows your body a step behind and wraps you in a warm hug, already apologizing for yelling and jumping on you, ushering out words fast. You stay silent while she speaks before saying, “I will only except your apology if we can get Nando’s after the match today.”

“Score a goal and we win the game, I pinky promise we can get Nando’s” she replies as she sticks out her pinky finger. You bring her pinky in to seal the promise and begin getting ready for match day. Leah has already packed your kit bag the night prior and even set out your jumper and sweats that you were supposed to be wearing today.

Your nerves were a little high today, your first derby match and you were starting. You really needed to play well and secure the win. It is almost as if Leah could feel your stress and she simply sent you words of encouragement and sealed it with yet another hug and a forehead kiss.

Arriving at the Emirates Stadium alongside Leah, who insisted that she always drive, was always a surreal feeling. Younger you would be simply amazed at what you have accomplished and achieved. Entering the changing room, you were pulled by Viv who gave you a simple pregame talk.

“Teeny, we all believe in you and I know you are going to play well, but I also need you to believe in yourself. Now did you eat breakfast? Drink water today? Did you bring your kit and boots?” she questions as if you have never played a football match ever.

“Yes Viv, I have everything and Leah made me eat the huge breakfast she made this morning, every last bite.” you tell her as you pat your belly. Sometimes the girls treated you like an absolute child, but you knew there was love behind their intentions so you often let it slide.

Luckily for you, Beth came to your rescue, “Leave the kid alone Vivi, she’s not five.” she says.

“Have I told you how much I love you Bethy” you slyly say, moving to hug her and escape Viv’s questions.

Walking onto the pitch, you could certainly hear the loud fans and Arsenal red flooded the stadium. The next 90 minutes of football were sure to be interesting. Quickly finding your spot on the pitch, you high-fived Alessia and did your ritual of 3 jumps, something you started doing very early on in your football days.

The match started close, Tottenham and Arsenal sharing possessions and a lot of the game occurring in the midfield. The pitch was tense, you could feel it, both teams wanting to prove who owned North London, the rivalry running deep. Lia had sent you a perfect curved ball as you made a run to the goal, until suddenly your back was harshly pushed and you fell over. You quickly get up and the ref indicates a foul. You can vaguely hear Leah arguing with the ref but you let it go through one ear and out the other, trying to focus on getting the ball back. Near the end of the first half, every time you had gotten the ball, a Spurs player was roughly all over you, mostly ending in fouls. You tried your best to keep your cool, the same could not be said for your teammates.

“Ref is that not a yellow?” Katie shouts at the referee, hoping to get you some justice for the hammering you are currently experiencing by the opposite team. The ref quickly dismissed Katie and thankfully the halftime whistle blew and you jogged to the changing room. The halftime score was 0-0, as you were mor upset at not being able to score rather than the physically of the match.

In the changing room, your teammates were past angry. “They are all over Teeny, she can barely get the ball without getting fouled.” Alessia stated.

You had yet to really say anything, your body was sore from the harsh hits and falling all over the pitch, you simply just trying to catch your breath after an intense half. With a cold face you say out, “I am okay, keep pushing the ball upwards, one of these times I will be able to put it in the back of the net.” And with that, you and your teammates were making your way back to the pitch to begin the second half.

The Arsenal team that started the second half was scary, becoming more physical and focused on scoring. Arsenal controlled possession and played in Tottenham’s half mostly. A corner had arrived and although you were one of the smallest, you had a way of making yourself open as your opponent would lose you within the players and leave you unmarked. You also were able to jump pretty high and get your head on balls. The next few seconds of the set piece felt like it happened very fast. One second you were jumping in the air and the next you felt a body check you and you fell harsh on the ground, hearing a faint snap in your leg.

The pain the filled your body was stronger than anything you had ever experienced. There was a lot of commotion around you but all you could focus on was the sting in your leg, tears fell at free will. A soft hand meets yours as a voice you recognize as Steph’s says, “It is okay Teeny, everything will be okay. Do not move baby, the medics are coming on now.” You want to get up and continue the match but Steph basically holds your body down. All you can do is sob into her shoulder, a mixture of pain, anger, and the thoughts of your future football career.

The medics take over and help you limp off the pitch carefully, you can see Leah, Katie, and Beth in a heated conversation with the ref but you couldn’t make out their words specifically. The whole injury was incredibly overwhelming and time felt like it flew when you were getting your scans. They had told you the news that you had broken leg and they gave you some pretty high painkillers to ease the intense pain you were in. You hadn’t even noticed that the match was over until you heard a faint knock on the door.

The physio opened the door and almost ever single one of your teammates had made their way into your room. You were still in a bit of a daze with the high emotions and pain, but a soft smile was plastered on your face and you were in a calm state.

“Did I score?” is all you say out, hoping that at least the broken leg was worth it. When the girls had initially entered, they were tense and nervous, not knowing in what condition you were in. The room was quickly filled with laughter though, the girls becoming more personable when you were still their Teeny.

“It hit the back of the net, 1 nil.” Leah laughed out as she reaches out to stroke your cheek and gently move your hair out of your eyes. The girls fall into normal conversations and the physio pulls Leah aside to explain some important details of your exact injury and when to give you medication. You try to get up as the medication is making it feel like you were in no pain at all when Katie forces you back down, “Sorry Teeny, you need to stay in bed. doctors orders.” is all she says as your current state just believes her and you lie back down.

Alessia explains to you how Leah almost got a red card from the ref as she ripped him a new one when you went down. The girls eventually left one by one, wishing you well and giving you hugs until you are left with just Leah.

“Kid you really scared me today.” Leah explains out, the weight of what occurred today finally hitting her.

“I know, I know.” is all you could say out. Breaking your leg was not how you envisioned today going. “Can we still get Nando’s though? Since I did score and we won?” you question.

“Is that all you are thinking about Y/N?” Leah chuckled out. “Yes of course we can.”

The transition to Leah’s car was pretty painful but the strong drugs they gave you were doing wonders for you. The next few days were rough, the weight of being out from football for an extended period of time was heartbreaking for you. Leah could tell you were upset when you did not leave your room. Leah just simply walk into your room and bring you food, water, or your medicine and leave you, understanding that you just needed some time.

By day four, Leah had to do something. She sent a quick text to some of the Arsenal girls and requested them to come over to help make you feel better. Hours later, you hear your door being opened and see Leah poke her head in, “Hey Teeny, you have some visitors. Want to come see?” she questions, hoping you were open to the idea.

The recent day have been harder than you thought they would be, so at first you were reluctant to see your guests but you carefully got up and made your way to the living room. Many of your teammates were standing in your and Leah’s home. “What are you guys doing here?” you smile as you ask.

“We came to cheer you up Teeny!” Beth replies, screaming slightly at you. A large smile appears on your face, a smile Leah hadn’t seen in days.

Several of the girls brought you small plush animals and gifts like flowers and sweets to make you feel a little bit better about your unfortunate situation. Beth and Viv even brought Myle for some puppy cuddles. Most of the girls also offered advice on rehab and helpful stretches. Leah orders in food for the group as you all relax on Leah’s couch and watch a film.

Your injury was painful and hard, but your teammates always knew how to cheer you up and make you feel both loved and important. Your teammates may treat you like baby at times and are way too over protective, but you loved every single one of them.

Eventually your home was empty and Leah worked on cleaning up, you said out, “Thank you for today Leah, really, thank you.” you told her.

“Anything for you Teeny.” Leah said as she placed a kiss on your temple.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #woso community #woso #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #alessia russo #vivianne miedema #beth mead #woso fluff #woso couples #arsenal women #womens soccer #arsenal wfc

[sanspuppet]

MDNI - smut drabble

idol!Mingi x afab!reader

practice room sex (a.k.a. public), kind of an exhibitionism and sound kink for Mingi, unprotected sex, creampie, oh and as always big dick Mingi

No plot just straight up sex bcuz yay i can’t write anything different 👌🏻 i have a kink for concert Mingi tho if it doesn’t show

“Oh poor baby, is it too much for you?” Mingi suddenly stops thrusting into you, gaining from you a pathetic whine as he pulls out. When he turns you around, you but immediately glue your gaze on his huge, dripping with pre-cum cock. “I know you can’t help it, but look up at me now” his long and slender fingers raise your chin, Mingi plants his plush lips on yours, biting on them to let his tongue slide in and swirl around yours. He pulls out once he needs to inhale air again. “On all fours, on the floor, i want you to look at my reflection while i fuck you” like if you were a living puppet, you immediately did as he mouthed, crawling on the floor. He filled you ego with praises every time you listened to him. “Such a good obedient girl, i’m gonna give you a reward. Tell me baby, what do you want?” Surely the moment isn’t the best for asking you anything that needs a coherent reply. After all, you don’t need anything, he always treats you like a princess and get you anything you’d want as long as he can see you will love him. And you surely do. “I n-need your cum, Min” He chuckles, kneeling behind you, the sight of him looking down at your pussy while sliding into you again, on the mirror, looks so fucking hot. “My doll- oh fuck- the only thing you really crave is my dick, isn’t it? Such a naughty little girl, i love it” You fall on your elbows as soon as he starts to pound roughly into you, despite you’d like to watch the reflection of you two, your hair obstructs the view. The sound of your wet sex messing with each other, followed by your needy high-pitched moans, booms inside the big dance practice room. Mingi pulls your hair back, bring you back to reality as you were quickly loosing yourself in a blank state of your mind. “Ah fuck, louder baby, i want the other members to hear how well i can take care of you.” At this point dignity has left the both of you, Mingi only wants to bust a big nut into your tight pussy, and all you want is to just take it. You moan and whine louder, hitting the notes that you know turn him on even more. “Mmh, just like that baby, now look at us, look at you and how fucking hot you are. And you wander why i’d like to be inside you 24/7? See how cute and hot you are all fucked out because of my huge dick?” you can’t reply anything by your own, you nod slightly your head and keep emitting loud moans. “Damn princess, i love how erotic you sound, gonna cum soon” Mingi becomes even more loud than you, groaning with a low and broken voice from how good your pussy feels when you’re squeezing around him. He speeds up at a mesmerizing pace, as if reaching his orgasm is his only purpose in life. Mingi wraps suddenly his hand around your neck, and press your arched back against his back, forcing you to look at yourself while getting completely railed by him. You moan in unison the second his thick seeds are spurted inside you, the feeling of being completely filled up by his cum and cock made you orgasm on the spot, your own cream mixing with his. “Good baby, now keep it inside until we get to come back at the dorm. You did well as always princess”

@bro-atz bro i think i need to make a permanent taglist tbh

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez povs #ateez fic #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi fanfiction #mingi fanfic #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi hard thoughts #mingi x reader #mingi hard hours #mingi #ateez song mingi #mingi drabble #ateez smut drabbles #ateez drabbles #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts #kpop drabbles

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Hello, i was wondering if you could please write a max verstappen x reader, where they have soft lazy morning sex, that started off with just cuddles but someone (you can chose) initiated it, and they can't get enough, which leads to overstimulation and more cuddles at the end please

Mornings & More - Max Verstappen

Themes: Oral (female receiving bc honestly when do I write any oral that a man is receiving?) and very gentle morning sex

Not exactly overstimulation maybe just kind of lazy exhaustion from morning sex, sorry I lowkey got into writing this and forgot about that part of the request. But I hope it's still a decent read.

When Max is home there's always plans for him to be doing something to be going out.

Max isn't really one for light touches and softness, the man makes his gestures aggressively loving and affectionate. So y/n is woken up by Max's arms tightly wrapping around her. No doubt Max woke up with her having shifted from being so close to him since he only holds her so tightly on those occasions.

"Morning." Y/n smiles lazily rolling around to face him the sight of his blonde hair in a mess on top of his head. "You look so beautiful."

"It's hard to compete with you. So I don't try anymore." Max jokes as she tries to tame and adjust his hair. "I'm going to stream later."

"I know. Do you want to do anything before then?"

"No. I don't think so." Max shrugs earning a small nod before he closes the space and kisses her, smiling into the kiss as her phone rings and as soon as she reaches for it, Max has grabbed her hand. "Don't let some asshole ruin our peace."

Y/n laughs allowing him to keep her hands pinned away from the device.

Eventually y/n is taken by the feeling of him surrounding her and she's drifting in and out of sleep while Max just watches her. But she grunts shifting and moving around with a small frown.

"I can feel you watching me."

"Sorry." Max laughs moving his hand to her thigh and managing to pull it up to rest over him. She does grin knowing that this is a silent request of morning sex since Max is forward with a lot of things but not verbally forward about wanting to have sex. He's much more physical and she just has to go from what she knows of him.

Y/n rolls on top of him, her palms pressed on his chest since her body is still feeling lazy and heavy with sleep making his hands move up to her waist to steady her.

"You don't have to be on top." Max chuckles softly making her hum and yawn before she grins when he quickly rolls her back over so she's under him. "I think lazy morning sex is more your speed right now."

"I think I have to agree." Y/n hums then yawning and smiling lazily as Max kisses her before moving do somewhat taking his time to admire her body as he does so before he properly pushes her legs apart for full access to her body.

"How long?" Max questions making her smile because only Max Verstappen would ask how long she wants him to give her head because he does truly know exactly what to to do stretch out the length of time that he's giving her pleasure before he gives her an orgasm.

"7 minutes." Y/n mumbles knowing that she could put it down to a second and Max would make it happen. The habit of counting every thousandth of a second in F1 means he counts every second even in their sex lives.

Sex can be lazy for y/n but even what Max counts as "lazy" isn't really all that lazy in y/n's opinion.

Though she has to wonder if he knows exactly how long a minute is because it's not like he times it in an obvious way.

Sleep lifts from her and is replaced with sizzling pleasure.

Fingers stroking her g-spot, his tongue on her clit not pushing enough to get her over the edge too quickly. Steadily building it up and up. A moan rips out of her as she reaches her peak, back arching to ride it out, but Max forces her back down to the bed meaning he's still at the right angle to be near abusing her g-spot.

"Fuck." Y/n whines at being forced back down the bed as Max moves back to kiss her thigh, slowly easing his fingers out as she shivers in pleasure.

Y/n hardly gets a chance to properly catch her breath before she is caught in a kiss and Max is plunged into her, the spasming and twitching of aftershock from her orgasm enveloping him completely.

"You always feel so amazing." Max grunts feeling her tighten around him at that. He doesn't move, knowing to just let her have a moment of recovery and adjustment at the feeling of him.

"I want on top." Y/n murmurs making Max roll them with ease, and she lifts just enough to avoid him completely slipping out before she eases herself down. Clearly wanting to have the power to set the pace. Usually she'd surrender control, but when Max gives her an orgasm as calmly and controlled that shakes her axis like he just did, on this occasion she wants the control.

He does end up helping her since y/n is not usually one to get on top for long, and after maybe managing ten minutes, she doesn't have to say a word for Max to flip them over, withholding a small laugh as he gently controls his thrusts in and out of her. But with adding pressure to her clit with his thumb. She's not got long left, which works for him because honestly he's close to cumming but he won't until he's got another orgasm from her.

Her easy give away of her stomach tensing follows with her fully clenching around him and triggering his own orgasm, spilling up into her as he sort of holds himself fully sheathed in her. Easily leaving her feeling overwhelmingly full but he's not removing himself yet. Loving this feeling of her somewhat of a mess underneath him.

Y/n whines at the feeling of when he does finally try to pull out mumbling a breathy no.

"I'm going to crush you if I stay like this." Max chuckles lightly which earns a pouted frown before he sighs and nods. "Ok. But you're going to have to lie on time of me."

Y/n loves morning sex, but morning aftercare is something she is always too tired to entertain. So instead she just tempts Max into remaining buried in her for a while she takes a bit of recovery time and sometimes even a quick nap.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #mv1 fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 fic #mv1 smut #mv33 #rbr #redbull racing #red bull f1 #mv33 x you #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 smut #mv1 #mv1 one shot #mv33 one shot #red bull team

[kennedyswhore]

FAMILY LIFE WITH LEON KENNEDY!⠀

🗯. FEATURING: girl dad!leon x afab!reader SYNOPSIS: headcanons of leon experiencing fatherhood (bc capcom won’t let him) WORD COUNT: 2.7k STICKY NOTE: he holds my heart and has me wrapped around his finger!!!

WHEN LEON FIRST HEARS YOU ASK HIM TO START A FAMILY WITH YOU, the two of you sit quietly at the dinner table, his face faintly flushed a warm shade of red. He hesitates only for a moment, tapping his silverware idly against the table. You stare up at him expectantly, and with a deep breath, then a trip and stumble over his own words, he replies, I— I’d... Yeah. I’d consider it, yes, definitely. I would love to.

Honestly, he’s already considered the idea numerous times, he just never assumed it would actually end up coming to fruition. From the day he married you, and from the moment you took his last name, he thought he’d love to settle down with you, to raise a family and grow old alongside you. But, he assumed it was just wishful thinking, just a pleasant dream to fantasize from time to time— how would someone like him ever be lucky enough to live that kind of life?

Well, it seems like he is that lucky, and when it comes to raising a family with the person who makes him feel genuinely alive, with you, he couldn’t be any happier.

LEON WOULD BE LYING IF HE TRIED TO SAY HE WASN’T NERVOUS. Actually, he tries his damn hardest to make you believe that he isn’t, but you can see through him better than he thinks you can. In reality, he’s terrified. He has no idea how he’s supposed to raise a child, hell, he was hardly raised himself. What if he screws this up? What if he was never cut out for this, to be a father? Will his children meet the same fate? Will he have them one second and lose them the next? How will he be a pillar of strength? How can he tell them it’s okay to live as long as it’s not them who’s dead? How can he help them grieve when he’s always grieving himself?

Thankfully, you’re there to reassure him, to let him know that you’re a team. The both of you can do this, together, and even if you mess up, everything will work out in the end. You know it will. And when he knows that you’re there to help him, Leon feels a whole lot better. 

He spends his free time reading parenting books to make sure he’s prepared. He checked out every single one he could get his hands on at the library. During your late night conversations, he tells you some of the useful things he learned from them, too. You’re not sure if they’re all that necessary, but you can’t help but admire his enthusiasm. 

HE WORKS ON HIS DRINKING HABITS. Throughout his life, Leon has known only one way to cope— and honestly, it’s not like he’s proud of what he’s doing. He’s just trying to escape from the pain of the gnawing thoughts by drinking himself into oblivion. But this was the final push he needed to never drown his thoughts in alcohol again.

WHEN IT COMES TIME, HE HELPS YOU DECORATE YOUR SPARE BEDROOM TO PERFECTION. You paint the walls together, Leon reaching up to get the spots you can’t reach. You smear some paint on this focused face when he isn’t paying attention. The both of you get distracted, until your faces, hands, and clothes end up covered in more paint than what you were able to get on the walls. Leon tugs you in by the waist, placing a deep, tender kiss on your lips, before softly whispering, I’m so excited, sweetheart. We’re gonna make the best parents, I know it.  

You and Leon pick out everything you need— a crib, blankets, stuffed animals, pacifiers. In the time since you’ve been married, you’ve become familiar with his real side, how his humoristic act is just a mask to keep himself sane (if you think you’re free from horrendous jokes, no. He specifically keeps the dumbest ones for you). Nowhere else is it displayed more than here, when he helps you choose the absolute cutest items. Hey, which do you think they’ll like more, the duckie or the kitty? 

He spends hours putting together the crib, powering through the complicated set of instructions. He’s so proud when he shows you how he finally managed to put it together, and when you fling your arms around him and tell him, It looks perfect, I love you, he’s certain the struggle was worth it.  

He also spends hours baby-proofing the entire house, to a degree so meticulous that you can’t help but giggle. He hunts down every single outlet in the house and gives it a safety cover, puts locks on each doorknob (even the cabinets), and he tests all the furniture in the house to make sure nothing will fall. You find his carefulness to be sweet, but after he’s spent hours rearranging and stressing, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and place a quick kiss on his cheek, whispering, It’s alright to take a break for now. 

AND WHEN THE DAY FINALLY COMES, when the two of you finally bring your baby home, Leon is sure he hasn’t cried more than this in his entire life. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks tear-stained— he sticks to you like a lost little puppy, adamantly refusing to leave you or his daughter’s side, not even for a single second. 

He’s so damn happy, he can’t even believe this is happening. Leon stares at your daughter like she holds the world in her itty bitty hands, like if he stops looking for even a moment, he’ll wake up to discover this was all just a dream. Just one of his many fantasies that he replays in his head as he falls asleep holding you close. But, no, it’s real, and it won’t change, no matter how much he worries that it will. When Leon remembers this, he feels a huge wave of solace, and a steady, love-sick ache settled in his heart.  

You haven’t stopped holding your baby since you’ve left, so when you’re finally home and able to lower her into his crib, Leon is immediately wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. His tears soak your shoulder, his hands ball up your shirt, his little sniffles and sobs muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. I’m so happy for us. Leon pulls apart from you then, and his hand trembles when he brings it to your cheek. Think this is the best day of my life. 

THINGS ARE A LITTLE ROUGH AT FIRST, as the two of you struggle to get a handle on things. Truth is, despite the numerous parenting books and hours spent preparing, neither of you have any idea what you’re doing. For the first week, Leon thinks he got a full four hours of sleep in total, or no, maybe three hours? He was so exhausted he could hardly remember. But he tells himsef that it’s okay, it’s alright— he is awfully familiar with sleepless nights, this is far better compared to those nights of horrifying nightmares.

The baby won’t eat, then she won’t sleep, then she cries and cries and neither of you have a clue why— Leon begins to think maybe he really isn’t cut out for this. When the two of you lay in bed, the baby finally quieting for what feels like the first time in ages, he holds you close to himself. His voice is shaky and weak when he tells you how he’s worried, how he’s so scared because he has no idea what to do, and no-one to tell him. Do you think I’m doing something wrong? I really… I really don’t wanna mess this up. Sorry.

He feels the stress melt from his shoulders when you rub his back with your palms, muttering sweet words of reassurance into his ear. Just the sound of your voice, the way you promise him that you’ll be here with him every step of the way, I know the two of us can do this, Leon, it’ll be okay— He didn’t realize how tired he was until now, so it isn’t long before your peaceful words lull him to sleep.  

AS THINGS GO ON, EVERYTHING GETS EASIER AND EASIER. Leon starts to get the hang of it, becoming more and more comfortable, learning techniques for every situation. He’s figured out how to handle things on his own, so you can head to work while he stays home. You were a little nervous for him at first, but when you came home from work to see him sleeping peacefully with the baby in his arms, you felt all of your worries wash away. 

There was one time, though, not too long after you took your baby home, where she happened to fall ill. The doctors told you it was nothing to worry about, that this is rather normal, and she should get better soon— but that didn’t stop Leon from worrying his head off, nor from sleeping beside the crib every single night. 

Your heart feels warm to see your husband fretting so much over your baby girl, but all of his worrying built up a bit of a bad habit. Your child started requiring that Leon sleep beside her crib every night if she’s ever going to get any rest.

Leon keeps his hand stuck in between the bars, so your daughter can wrap her small hands around his thumb. Allowing her to fall asleep like this seems to be the only way to get her to sleep soundly all night, so Leon props up a chair and makes himself comfortable. You can’t remember how many times you came into the spare bedroom and wrapped a blanket around your sleeping husband’s shoulders before your daughter was finally able to break the habit. 

THE TWO OF YOU DEBATED PROFUSELY OVER WHAT YOUR KID’S FIRST WORDS WOULD END UP BEING, until one day, when you come home from work— Leon doesn’t even give you a chance to kick off your shoes, swiftly grabbing your hand and leading you into the hallway. He drags you to the spare bedroom, and with a warm grin tugging at his cheeks, he says, Look, baby. Look at what I taught her to do.  

Leon goes on to show you how he taught her to say his name— she reaches up, gesturing grabby hands at her dad before babbling his name incoherently, Liun, until Leon finally picks her up. You give your husband a playful shove, pretending to be annoyed that it was his name your daughter ended up saying first— but honestly, the way she says it is so cute that you don’t have the heart to be at all disappointed.

Although… Leon’s teachings did end up causing one repercussion. Now, she thinks Liun is synonymous with getting what she wants, so she tends to say it whenever and where-ever. Even when Leon isn’t present, she’s gurgling his name, saying it when you give her favorite toy, or crying it when she wants you to hold her. It’s a little endearing, sure, but it takes longer than you expected for her to finally learn your name.

Her particular sort of endearment with her father is probably because Leon tends to spoil her to high heaven, buying her anything and everything she could ever want, making her whatever her little heart desires for dinner, and taking her to wherever she says she wants to go. You don’t even know what excursions they’re taking at this point, you just come home from work to Leon and her playing with manta ray stuffed animals, and he has to explain, Oh, we went to the aquarium today. I think rays are her favorite animal now, she seems to really like them.

LEON HAS NO PROBLEM TAKING CARE OF HIS DAUGHTER BY HIMSELF IF YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY AND NEED TO RELAX. He greets you with a kiss at the door, gently pulling your coat from your arms, massaging the tension from your shoulders beneath his hands. Long day? I know, I ran you a hot bath, it should be ready in a few minutes. I’ll take care of making dinner tonight, you just relax. 

Although Leon is prepared for every situation, he’s a worrier at heart, so he still tends to stress about anything related to your daughter— Is she gonna be okay to sleepover at her friend’s house? I told her to call me if she needs me and I’ll come pick her up right away. She has my number, she won’t forget it, right?— You frequently have to remind Leon that it’s okay, she is capable of handling herself, so there’s no need for him to fret so much. Just relax.  

WHEN YOU AND LEON REALIZE YOU HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO GET MUCH TIME ALONE, you’ll hire a babysitter, so that the two of you can go out and spend a nice date night together. And if your daughter ever happens to go to a friend’s house, you can bet that you and Leon are going to make good use of the time you’re able to spend home alone (well, if the two of you end up spending all that time just napping or doing chores, that’s fine, too). 

AT FIRST, LEON IS EXTRA WORRIED WHEN IT COMES TIME FOR HIS DAUGHTER’S FIRST TIME AT SCHOOL— but when she comes home with a huge smile on her face, excited to tell you and her father about all the fun she had, he seems to loosen up rather quickly. 

He makes packed lunches for her everyday, and puts her backpack on her shoulders before she walks out the door. When she comes home, Leon is seated beside her at the dinner table, helping her with her homework. Your daughter is always telling you about how her classmates are all jealous of her fancy lunches, how she always brags to them about how amazing of a dad Leon is. You laugh, ruffling her hair, before leaning down to say, You better make sure you tell your dad that, baby.

Leon thinks he’s always gonna love when his daughter calls him dad— he never imagined he’d get the opportunity to be a father, and to such an amazing daughter, at that. You and him are the most doting parents, bragging about how much you love her to the point where other people might even find it annoying. Leon hardly cares, he feels so happy and unbelievably lucky, and he wants anyone and everyone to know it.  

Whenever your kid brings home an art project from school, or a worksheet she did, Leon saves it. He saves literally everything to the point where your attic is overflowing from every sketch and every project your daughter has ever completed. And when she draws a messy stick figure drawing of you, her dad, and her, Leon keeps it stuck to the fridge forever.

NO MATTER HOW MUCH IT MAKES HIS HEART ACHE, MISSING SCHOOL EVENTS IS INEVITABLE. Even though he genuinely wants to be there, he occasionally has to skip important school days due to work commitments. Whether it’s a parent-teacher meeting, a school play, or a sports day— his job would take precedence, causing him to miss out on precious moments in his little princess’ life.

The weight of regret he carries is beyond measure, especially when he imagines her searching the crowd for his face and not finding it. The feeling of letting his child down gnaws at him, eroding his confidence as a parent. He knows some of them were memories he couldn’t get back, and he also knows that being sent to missions after missions isn’t really his fault— but still, the guilt is always fresh.

LEON TAKES HOLIDAYS EXTREMELY SERIOUSLY, always trying to make sure each one is the best it can be, especially because he never got the chance to experience his own and he certainly doesn’t want his baby girl to go through the same thing. He bakes homemade cakes for every birthday, decorating the top with frosting and numbered candles. He stays up until 2am wrapping presents from ‘Santa’, but getting to eat the cookies you baked as a family the night before, and seeing the excited look on his daughter’s face when she comes to the present-filled living room on Christmas morning makes it all worth it.  

YOU AND LEON SHARE A SMILE AS HE LOOKS BACK— family, it’s what you’ve both built here. It was slow at first, and sometimes it wasn’t easy. At one point, it was just the two of you, just you and Leon, and that was okay. You didn’t think you would ever be capable of letting it be more— but it’s nice when it grows, you think. Maybe one day, you can dare to hope to grow it some more. 

Leon feels fortune to call you his family, and even if he worries sometimes, or even if he struggles, he’s certain this life is how everything was meant to be. Everything flies by so fast, until days turn into months turn into years, and every day, he still thinks he’s going to wake up from some sort of dream. Well, if this is a dream, it’s certainly the best one he’s ever had, and he hopes from the bottom of his heart to never awake from it.

It’s nice, Leon thinks, it’s nice to have something worth smiling for.

#operation: heal leon kennedy #if capcom won’t let him I WILL. #girl dad!leon #a sappy father at heart! #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy imagine

[komaniyaexpress]

— is this .. me?! .. ♪

sagau — they find a piece of artwork made by the creator; of .. them.

— featuring furina, wanderer, freminet, and neuvillette .. ♪

cw. none wc. 200-400 ea.

furina

it goes without saying .. furina is ecstatic. i mean.. why wouldn’t she be? she wouldn’t make this known, however, because “of course you’re going to wish to capture my enthralling beauty on paper — it’s only fair when faced with such divine radiance!” inside.. she’s a mess. her widened eyes flit over every tiny detail, every little stroke of the pen or paintbrush. “enthralling beauty”, she says, “divine radiance”, she says — but is she truly talking about herself or the way you interpreted her? never in all the centuries she’d been alive would she admit this, but she couldn’t help but feel as if you had made her look much more ethereal than she truly was. she does make it known that she likes it, though. when you turn away from her and murmur something about how you’re not the most proud of this particular piece, she scoffs indignantly. “what? how— ugh, how could you ever say such a thing? do you dare question my judgement?!” she leans back against the couch, hardly able to focus on the taste of the small pastry half-eaten in her hand. she’s incredibly grateful it’s only you two alone, because she has an entirely embarrassing blush upon her face as she chews.

wanderer

“.. seriously?” he kind of just.. glares at it. i’m sorry, but i don’t really know what you were expecting. depending on the kind of mood he’s in, he’ll either simply cast it aside without a second glance or attempt to mockingly chew you out over it. it doesn’t matter whether he actually likes it or not; he is not going to let you live it down. he’s not amused, but i can’t really imagine him actually getting upset about it either. he’ll scoff, maybe roll his eyes if he’s feeling generous enough, then go about his day without another thought to it. even with his nonchalant, near-annoyed demeanor over the whole thing, when you’ve left and he’s alone — he looks for it again and stares at it like he didn’t get to before. as his eyes travel the lines that form a quite accurate depiction of his visage — implying you spent a lot of time looking at him — he can’t help but wonder why, of all people, you chose him as your muse. he does.. appreciate the sentiment, though, even if he’ll never voice it. he catches himself before he spirals. it doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. with a huff, he sets it down again and crosses his arms, trying to ignore the fact it does indeed make him feel.

freminet

if you were expecting anything other than freminet being an absolute mess.. you’d be sorely mistaken. of course, he’s not upset at all. he’s just.. very, very embarrassed. he loves your art, he does. he doesn’t want you to misconstrue this, and makes sure you know it’s not your problem, but his own. make sure to reassure him. the moment he lays his eyes upon it, it’s evident; his eyes widen almost comically, and, suddenly, he has the surely inexplicable urge to run for his life. that wouldn’t be fair to you, though, so he bites it back and forces himself to stay put. the gears whir in his mind like he’s a piece of the machinery he holds so dear. he doesn’t know how to thank you — should he thank you? he doesn’t know what to say at all, more like. he clears his throat, unable to get any words out; his mouth goes dry and his heart practically beats out of his chest, all the while he’s looking just as frozen in time as your rendition of him. he lets out an audible sigh of relief when you reassure him that he doesn’t need to speak. he can’t handle you when you stare at him like this, and asks if you’d be okay with him putting on his diving helmet. once you’ve given him your permission — which you reiterate he doesn’t need — he quickly places it over his head, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you can no longer see his face. his gaze doesn’t leave the art, not for a moment. he stands still and stares at it, unable to tear his eyes away from the lines that, somehow, paints a clear picture of.. him. that you made. he still does not make any move to talk, and he’s very glad that you’re so understanding. eventually, he murmurs an apology, and through the lump in his throat, reassures you that (if there was ever any doubt), he likes it.

neuvillette

it was raining. it had been raining all day. naturally, this worried you, and your first thought was to check up on neuvillette. exhausted yet unchanging, neuvillette sifted through his paperwork without taking a single break to rest. however, all things must, and eventually, his tire overcame him — letting out a sigh, he placed his palm upon his forehead and leaned into it, his eyes fluttering closed. it took him a moment to open them again, but when he finally did.. after such a long day, eyes sore with the strain of reading fine print jammed together so thickly the pages looked more inky than ivory, the last thing he expected was to see was a piece of blank paper on his desk. curious, he picks it up and flips it over, assuming it to be more writing on the other side — only to be met with.. himself, staring right back at him. the neuvillette now is slightly slouched over, eyes drooping with the weight of an unrelenting week. he’s unable to see his true reflection — in a mirror or water, not a near-perfect version of him on paper — so he couldn’t really tell, but even so, he can’t help but feel as if this version of him must appear much more composed. he pushes the thought away, stares at the piece a bit closer, and he eases a bit. not only was it a splendid break to the monotony of monochromatic paperwork, it was made by you. it’s now that you walk into the room. in a split second, you realize what he’s holding. you blink. he smiles, gentle and soft. the rain stops pouring.

#✦ . ⁺ 🕊️ i. divinity at its finest. #✦ . ⁺ 🌧️ ii. furina. #✦ . ⁺ 🌱 ii. wanderer. #✦ . ⁺ 🌧️ ii. freminet. #✦ . ⁺ 🌧️ ii. neuvillette. #furina x reader #furina #focalors #focalors x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #furina x you #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette sagau #sagau neuvillette #sagau furina #furina sagau #wanderer sagau #sagau wanderer #sagau scaramouche #scaramouche sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #sagau freminet #freminet sagau

[taintedcigs]

made a mess — e.m.

pairing: perv!eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, smut, bj, perv!eddie, kind of degradation, kind of dubcon (its not idk just to be safe), praises, nicknames, just p*rn without a plot

summary: in which perv!eddie can't help himself on a movie night (wc: 1.7k+)

a/n: hi HII, i kind of hate this but i wanted to post it so bad bc i love perv!eddie omfg, no dividers and i didn't proof-read ignore the mistakes plss

it was wrong.

it was very very wrong for eddie to want to do this.

especially when you were in his living room, waiting for him to come back so that the two of you could continue watching whatever it was that he was supposed to be watching.

but eddie couldn't help it, he couldn't help but be consumed by the thoughts of you.

he couldn't help but not excuse himself, when you were sat next to him, your chest rising up and down when you got scared by the villain popping up in the horror movie eddie was supposed to be watching.

he couldn't help but feel his cock twitch when your soft hands squeezed his calloused ones, your head dipping into his shoulder while you had a firm grip on him.

his overprotectiveness of you was apparent when he wrapped his arms around you, a sly smirk tugging at his lips as he attempted to comfort you, laying kisses on your hair.

and it was driving him crazy, the way you just stood there, lips plump and still glossy as you watched intently, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. thinking about how pretty your lips would look wrapped around his cock.

he felt sick. but he couldn't help himself, not when your thighs looked that good as you wore that tight little skirt.

he couldn't help but not lose his mind when he felt your hand land on his thigh and you panicked when a scary scene came on, and the blood was quick to rush to his cock.

he was unable to hide his raging cock when your tits were brushed up against him, your tiny top leaving little to his imagination, especially when they were so tight on your body, exposing your nipples.

and that sight alone almost made eddie groan, he wanted to suck on them, bite them, and kiss them forever.

that's when he excused himself to go to the bathroom, his mind filled with you, he could hardly think of anything else when you were around.

as soon as he entered the bathroom, he stripped out of his pants, tossing them on the ground, hurrying so he could return back to you without raising any suspicions.

he wondered if you'd still want to be his best friend after learning how much he wanted you, how much he was hooked on you, and how sickly his thoughts were when you were around.

he wanted you to catch him, as perverted as that thought was, he could imagine the shock on your face, your mouth agape as you stood in shock.

would you offer to help him out? would you pout those pretty little lips as you knelt down in front of him, begging to have his cock in your mouth, warming your throat?

he let out a ragged breath just at the thought of that, his boxers straining his angry cock, he bowed his head, slipping out of them.

his erection sprang out of his boxers, pink tip oozing with pre-cum, he sighed at the sight.

the things you were doing to him should be illegal, he thought.

he closed his eyes quickly as he fisted his cock, throbbing and twitching as it grew harder at the thought of you again.

he was quick to run his thumb over his slit, wiping away the pre-cum which was only a small amount of his semen that was begging for a release.

'jesus, f-fuck.' he cursed out, his vein throbbing as he started imagining you.

he wished to have you walk in on him, wished to have you on your knees, your soft eyes looking up for him as you feign innocence, and he knows you are anything but.

he imagines your mouth watering at the sight, ready to take him down your throat, wanting him to fill all of your holes.

it's all he can think about, lust is oozing in his blood, every second of every day, ever since he met you, he had been a horny mess, pumping his cock more than he did when he first discovered what an orgasm was.

he groaned when he imagined your eyes flashing with desire as you peppered his cock with messy kisses, giving him kitten licks as his hand squeezed his cock roughly.

fuck, he wishes more than anything to have your heart-shaped panties to wrap around his cock right now, but all he has is the image of you, on your knees as you lap up his cock like the good girl you are, and eddie decides that's more than enough to get him to finish.

he pictures your eyes darkening with lust as you blink up at him, your plump lips sucking on his lengthy cock, and eddie strokes his length harder at the thought, messy groans leaving his plump lips.

'just like that, peach, take my fuckin' cock.' he moans huskily, tugging desperately as he prays that you won't hear him.

your eyes are never leaving him in his imagination, bobbing your head up and down, he imagines your eyes fluttering, and your thighs rubbing together, he wonders if you would be dripping with just him filling your mouth.

'such a good fuckin' girl, you like havin' my cock in your mouth, don't ya sweets?' he asks, not being able to hold himself as a sly smirk plays on his lips.

he imagines your head nodding quickly, manicured nails digging into his skin, trying to take all of him into your pretty little mouth, but not being able to do so, you add your hands, tugging at whatever part was left that you couldn't manage to suck.

his thighs shudder at the thought of you whimpering with his cock inside of your mouth, he visualizes how pretty you would look sucking him down, imagining his hands fisting your hair as he guides you for more.

'my lil' cock sleeve, warmin' up my cock.' he whimpers, so loudly, that he's afraid you're going to come into the bathroom and ask him what's going on.

but he can't help but be loud when he imagines you gagging around his cock, his stroking is so rough that his knuckles turn white.

he pictures you drooling and gagging around his member, saliva dripping down from your pretty lips as your mascara is smudged. you're so fucking perfect that the thought alone is engraved in his mind forever.

'your mouth is so fuckin' perfect, princess, fuck. s'fuckin' warm.' he is babbling as he envisions you, his hand desperately palming his cock, roughly as he knows he has to finish soon, or you might grow suspicious.

he imagines your eyes watering when he slams into your mouth harder and harder, cursing out. his thumbs gently padding away your tears as he enjoys the sight, 'm gonna fill this, slutty fuckin' mouth with my cum, peach.' his voice is low, he knows he's getting closer.

your hot mouth is still gagging around his cock when his grip on your hair gets rougher, he presses you against his pelvis.

he imagines you slurping around his shaft as your hands are palming him, he growls at the thought, his movements are getting sloppy.

he is pumping his fists harder when he imagines you sucking on his cock harder, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue around his veins, his head falls backward as he grunts.

his cock is pulsing and he knows he's close, as much as it kills him to finish this fantasy early, he knows he can't hold it in much longer.

's-shit, fuck, so fuckin' good, baby, i'm gonna fuckin' cum.' his breathing was shallow, and he shuddered as he imagined exploding in your mouth, smiling at the thought of his warm cum shooting out of his cock and painting your throat white, he growled huskily.

and he envisioned you tasting every drop of his cum, sucking the life out of him as you swallowed every drop that shot down the back of your throat.

and with few slow pumping of his cock, eddie finally came to himself, eyes widening quickly before he looked down at himself.

you weren't there, of course, and he was covered in his sticky hot semen, white globs of it covering every part of his thighs.

he groaned as he looked at the mess he made, the mess he made because of you, and the reality of what he did, finally hit him.

he felt sick, and he felt perverted.

'e-eddie?' your meek voice caused him to freeze in his place, his head cocked in your direction quickly.

the door was slightly open, and there you stood, cheeks hot and thighs rubbing together, and a sick smirk plastered onto eddie's face immediately, not only were you watching him getting himself off to the thought of you, but you enjoyed it, so much so that he could bet that you were soaked under your pretty little panties.

his mind swirled with the thoughts of you, excitement taking over his body as he realized you did what he always dreamed of, catching him in the act.

'sweetheart?' he called out, still not knowing whether he was imagining or not, voice soft as he didn't want to startle you, but your eyes were washed with lust as you slowly entered the bathroom.

'i've made such a mess here, baby.' he cooed, pointing towards himself, and your eyes widened at the sight of his hardened cock, despite cumming mere seconds ago.

your entire body felt hot, both from embarrassment and the unfamiliar feeling of lust oozing through your body, you needed him like never before and eddie was teasing it out of you.

'want me to help you clean up?' the words that slipped past your lips caused eddie's brain to short circuit, he babbled some curse words as he almost yelled out a 'yes!' causing you to smile over his excitement, walking over to him and dropping down on your knees.

eddie's head almost exploded at the sight in front of him, his visualization seconds ago could never compare to the real you, drooping to your knees, mouth agape as you looked up at him all doe-eyed.

he cursed when you started lapping up his juices, 'jesus— fuck, fuck oh shit— princess, you're doin' so fuckin' good for me.' he praised immediately.

'don't worry, i'm gonna take care of you, eds.' you murmured as you kept giving him kitten licks, and eddie almost passed out at the spot, you were perfect, so fucking perfect for him.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fics #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson imagine #perv!eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff

[yellowcabdriver]

desperate

pairing: yuuji itadori x f!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: i quit my old soul-crushing job and i’m desperately trying to finish off all wips before i start my new job svdndjsj please enjoy 🙏🏻 live laugh lovesick yuuji 🫡💕 very shamelessly got inspired by this post

nobara said yuuji shouldn’t call you.

“you don’t want her to think that you’re desperate, right?”

yeah, maybe.

but here’s a thing that a considerate friend that is nobara didn’t take into account.

yuuji is crazy about you and he is indeed very desperate for you and your attention. he is filled with joy and excitement whenever he hears your voice – it’s almost pavlovian, very embarrassing. or at least could be, if yuuji cared enough. his pride is a small price to pay to have a wonder that is you in his life.

but yuuji has to admit, maybe nobara is right. at the end of the day you two are not dating (yet, as yuuji very much hopes). you two are not even very close friends (yet, again, as yuuji hopes).

yuuji’s finger lingers over a call button under your name embezzled with a variety of heart emojis.

“at least text her before calling, you know, it’s kind of a new etiquette these days, not to call someone unannounced,” yuuji remembers nobara’s chastising. it makes yuuji hesitate. of course, he doesn’t want to seem like an ignorant bumpkin who isn’t aware of social cues. what if you’re busy? which you probably are because you are so smart and cool. and you are definitely a great texter (even if you weren’t, yuuji wouldn’t know any better because he is that much in love).

with a sigh, yuuji slides over to messages and starts typing rather pathetically “hiiii how are you???” while fighting the urge to add like a gazillion emojis to express himself better. nobara is really getting into his head, yuuji sighs. this is hard considering he is not exactly an overthinker (that would require having more than one thought and his only singular thought right now is you). a text is better than nothing, sure, but yuuji really really really needs to hear your voice. so he rushes back to his contacts and gathers every ounce of willpower to press on your name.

after almost painful eleven seconds you pick up. yuuji’s breathing hitches a little when he hears your sleepy “hello?”

he wants to throw himself from a window.

he forgot it’s almost 3 am.

“hi, um, hey. sorry, you’re asleep.”

what an absolute mess.

“well, not anymore,” you softly laugh. yuuji, though embarrassed, is so happy to hear your laughter.

“sorry.”

“it’s okay, yuuji. did something happen?”

well, kinda. obviously, yuuji’s not going to tell you that he’s just so down bad for you that he called you up in the middle of the night for no reason.

“no, nothing, i- i’m sorry, it’s nothing urgent, i better call you tomorrow.”

“are you sure? i mean, it’s…” he hears you scramble. “three in the morning. it has got to be an emergency.”

it is, just not a conventional one. yuuji violently shakes his head and then remembers that you can’t see him (why is he such a fool when it comes to you?)

“no, no, i’m sorry, i screwed up. i forgot that not everyone stays up late like me. go to sleep. sorry.”

“stop apologising, it’s all fine. okay, i’ll believe that there’s no emergency. but you better call me tomorrow to confirm that you’re okay.”

yuuji’s cheeks are burning.

“yeah, of course. sorry again.”

you laughed.

“good night, yuuji.”

“good night.”

yuuji’s fingers shake when he types the first message.

“sorry, i actually didn’t mean to call you.”

delivered.

yuuji’s eyes are not leaving the screen beaming brightly into his face.

read.

his palms are suddenly cold.

dot, dot, dot.

“it’s okay,” followed by a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. such a you thing to send. for a minute he contemplates going to sleep and maybe die from embarrassment in his sleep but something takes him over. before he can register it, his fingers start typing.

“fuck it”

delivered, read.

“i did mean to call”

delivered, read.

“i wanted to talk to you”

delivered, read.

“to hear your voice and your laugh”

delivered, read.

yuuji can physically feel the blood rushing away from his limbs when he sees three dancing dots.

“i want to hear your voice, too.”

yuuji’s head is spinning as he fights the urge to jump around the room while smiling at his phone like a madman. megumi and nobara for sure would be disgusted at this sight. he is so ecstatic that he almost misses the next message.

“ft?”

his long calloused fingers dance across the screen to quickly type “i’ll call you”.

he rushes to facetime.

you pick up almost instantly.

yuuji looks at your face, traces of sleep still present in your expression but he can see – and it makes his heart flutter – that you are genuinely happy to see him, too.

you both spent a few intimate moments staring at each other’s badly lit faces, glowing under the dim lights of your screens in the dark, until yuuji finally finds the courage to break the silence.

“so… did you sleep well?”

you quietly laugh and yuuji falls in love even harder though he thought it wasn’t possible. he can’t wait to tell the gang that being desperate pays off, and oh so well.

and what does nobara know anyway.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #itadori x you #itadori yuuji x reader #yuji itadori #itadori fluff #jujutsu itadori #my fic