#i freaking love you all from the bottom of my heart!

[batfamluvr]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

#yandere damian wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x plus size reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x female reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x oc #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you

[bluegiragi]

What are some of your favorite fan fiction writers for Call of Duty?

in no particular ranking/order (and letting you know A LOT OF these authors write extremely explicit p0rn. read the tags):

queeniegalore (literally noone writes ghostsoap like queenie man, her fic called The Spaces Between The Light is my forever comfort read)

MildLimerence (literally the GOAT of this fandom, i swear she's written a solid 30% of everything i've ever read in cod, and i've read her entire catalog maybe 3 times over at this point)

noxmajor (their Seven-Year Itch fic broke my heart and put it back together again)

ANTchan (*coughs* iykyk)

applepieces (*coughs harder but in bottom!ghost*)

surveycorpsjean (writes for a ton of fandoms and is generally just an incredible witer, but their cod fic Poison Apple i think has the most kudoses in the entire tag and it's for good reason)

prettyunhinged (bestie)

congee4lunch (wrote solemn prayer, poppy in my hair which is so painfully domestic and lovely. they've moved on from cod and write for rw&rb now, so don't bother them and ask them for more)

thirteenbullets (writes a lot of ghostsoap hurt/comfort, my favourite is side by side)

kaijusalad (fell in love with i like you alive, continue to fall in love with every additional fic they write about these freaks)

highlonesome (for all your catholic soap and asshole ghost needs. the pain kink is strong with these two.)

#reminder: if literally any of you bother these wonderful writers i will nuke this post from orbit <3 #go be nice #leave a kudos and a kind comment #and dont mention me <3 just show them some love

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk angst #keeping up with the fushigojos #keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

[rafeysdoll]

omg ur rafe x reader arguing drabble had me thinking what would happen if reader (keyword) TRIED to break up with him or take a break?

hehe thank you for requesting sorry this took sooo long, thanks to the lovely @hewwokitti3 for helping me with this request and @oceandriveab and @rafecameroninterlude for proof reading <3

you shut rafe’s truck door, quickly running back inside tannyhill and climbing up the stairs, heart beating so fast you thought it could explode.

you burst in rafe’s and yours shared bedroom, him sitting on the edge bed with his phone, looking up at your shaking figure. “you good?”

your manicured nails that have the initial ‘R’ on them claw harshly at rafe’s chest, tears now streaming down your cheek. “fuck you!” you yell, fist slamming at his chest. “we’re over!” you cry, turning to the closet and grabbing whatever bag and starting to shove whatever belongings you own.

“hey, the hell is the matter with you?!” rafe spits, snatching your bag from your hands and throwing it across the room, eyebrows furrowed as he grabs at your shoulders tightly, scanning you. “i know you’re cheating on me! i-im not stupid!” you scream, bottom lip wobbling as you thrash against his hold.

“cheat.. cheating on you? where the fuck did you get that idea from? huh?” rafe replies, tightening his grip. “i saw with my own eyes, rafe!”

“well.. well you’re fucking blind then.” he retaliates, slightly pushing you to the closest wall— taking a big breath as he tries to calm down. “n-need you.. to tell me what the hell you think you saw so i can correct it, a’ight? breathe with me?”

you sniffle, looking down at the ground as your chest heaves— snot running down your nose. “you need to calm down. breathe.”

you close your eyes tightly, taking a deep inhale as you try to slowly regain a steady breathing rhythm, rafe taking a small step back, hand on hip.

when you feel ready enough to speak, you peek back at him, shoulders shaking. “i-i.. went to get my eyelash curler from your truck and.. and the passenger seat was down! all the way down! my seat rafe, mine!” you confess, voice cracking slightly.

he rolls his eyes, hand moving up to rub at his temple, tonguing his cheek. “that’s why you… you threw a fucking tantrum? that was wheezie messing around with my shit.. had to drive her to the store cause she wanted fucking snacks yesterday, not because i’m screwing some chick behind your back.”

your cheeks heat up, embarrassment creeping up your spine. “oh.”

“yeah, oh.. you feel ashamed of yourself now? driving yourself crazy like that, fighting me and shit. why.. why don’t you c’mere, gonna teach you to control yourself.” he prompts, sitting back on the bed, patting his lap.

you whimper, knowing your fate was decided for you now— slowly walking up towards your boyfriend. “some time today,” he urges, grabbing your arm when it’s in reach and laying you flat on his lap, ass up.

“want you to remember this when you think of freaking out on me before talking to me like an adult again, alright?”

#anon #rafe ౨ৎ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk season 2 #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo jjk #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru #gojou x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #gojou saturo #saturo gojo x reader

[byuntrash101]

realistic sex with seonghwa

seonghwa x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: welcome to this series. where i'll try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. u voted for our shinestar to be the first one but tell me in the comments/asks who u want to see next. enjoy ♡ disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.

in the relationship he's very loving and attentive. seonghwa is a romantic at heart. he loves big gestures. like expensive gifts and fancy dinner dates. he's a passionate man

(an aries ♈)

although he's not into pda (doesn't dread it as much as hongjoong though who he utterly despise it). he likes to hold you and kiss you but he would rather do it privately

but oh boy when he gets you alone. you will drown in the love. you will suffer the wrath of his aggressive hugs and kisses

he will literally kiss your cheeks so hard that it will scrunch up your face or hold you so thigh that you can't breathe. for him there's no other way of showing his love for him. it's ardent and burning.

(did I say an aries?)

talking of getting you alone *wink wonk*

a ✨neat boi✨

he will always prepare a towel to you clean up before you even truly starts

I feel like you guys are kissing and things get a little heated he would straight up ask if you tryna fuck 

slkslskdlsdkdk

as soon as you say yes he hops off the bed/couch and goes to get the kit™ which includes towels, lube and toys

he might be prepared to clean up afterwards but thats only because he fully intends on getting n-a-s-t-y with you. before he cleans this man is going to make a mess

seonghwa is freaky (member of freak line with woo mingi and joong even if I think he's the less freaky out of the four). he plays coy but i feel like the demon takes possession of him when he’s on stage or in bed. 

he lives for the applause that's why he gives me the vibe of a service top. he usually doms but he will occasionally sub if his partner is into it.

if he subs that would mean he truly trusts his partner and he's ready to give up control. which I feel is something that is difficult for him to do

he will like to be on the bottom and seeing you ride him. 

he's more into praises than degradation but I feel like he would enjoy a healthy blend of both

"my good fuck toy", "you're being so good to me", "what a good little slut"

nothing too mean. he will surely enjoy being bossed around. (cfr that fancall where he literally folds because op tells him not to make her wait). he will enjoy when you give directions. command him to get in his knees for you, or tell him to open his mouth

but wether he subs or doms he will always enjoy some biting. he loves loves loves when you're close to him and you sink your teeth in the crook of his slender neck. he enjoys the slight pain

but most of the times he will top/dom. that's his comfort zone and it shows.

like I said earlier that man lives for your approval and your recognition so he will do anything to satisfy you.

and he will take 👏 his 👏 sweet 👏 time.

quickies aren't for him. he's a perfectionist. when he does something he does it 100%. he gives his all or he doesn't see the point in even starting… he'd rather wait until you have more time.

seonghwa loves and I means loves to give oral. he's oral giver line with mingi.  

he's ready to spend hours on knees head buried in your pussy ignoring his sore jaw and painfully hard cock just to make sure that when he stops your legs and trembling and you've soaked the bed all the way to the matress.

and the worst (best) part is that he's far from done

it's only the beginning of the fun

there's no point in changing the rhythm so once again when he finally slides into you he takes his time. he will coat himself with your juices grazing his tip along your folds and extra sensitive clit before pushing it in very slowly.

all the while being very quiet. barely exhaling a small sigh of pleasure because one big thing about hwa… he loves sounds. he has a huge auralism kink. so he will stay quiet just to get even hornier on the way you sound.

he wants to heart it all in great detail. (the perfectionism kicks in once more)

he wants to hear your pussy gushing out more nectar for him as he slowly fills you up

he wants to hear how you hold your breath while he gives that first slow stroke that you've been begging him for what feels like hours.

then sighs in pleasure as he reaches the bottom of you.

there he will bend down to kiss you.

sloppy kisses. very sloppy. with lots of tongue. he wants to share your taste (and realust of his hard work) with you

that's why I think hwa's favourite position is missionary. he can hear better and he can kiss you while fucks you.

he loves to make you moan into his mouth. he wants to swallow your every sound of pleasure he wants it all.

and he won't be satisfied until he makes you cum at least twice (and i insist thats the bare minimum). because hwa is an over achiever and also a good guy and as goes the famous saying: nice guys finish last.

it's only when you're satisfied (read: exhausted and worn out to the bone) that he will finaly cum too.

he doesn't have favourite spot he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. well at least that's what he says because I feel like he loves to finish inside or all over your pussy.

he loves to see how good he ruined you and messy your cute little cunt got for him. pulsing, weeping, creaming. all swollen and red.

he loves to know he's the one that made you like this. 

hwa is possessive it's less on the nose then joong but still

also you remember when I said freaky?

he's def the type that goes down on you for sloppy seconds after he's finished. if he's feeling extra generous (sadistic) he will drag out yet an other final orgasm out of your exhausted little cunt. just to have the pleasure of hearing you whine louder and squirm under him. pining your thighs open while he tastes himself on your folds.

with hwa it's not over until it's over

and finally he will share the delicious blend of your burning love for one an other with you in a passionate kiss. this time around the passion is more controlled less carnal and more romantic. he wants to show you again how much he loves you and this kiss is the prefect way

right after of course he's running around the place to bring you water and clean you up

maybe even washing you up in the shower if you aren't too tired and you can still stand (9 times out of 10 you can't) if you are too tired then he'll simply let you sleep in his arms (and never in the wet spot. if only there's one. chances are he prepared well enough and there's none)

like I said a neat boi <33

who should i post next?

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

realistic sex with mingi, with yunho, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation

#seonghwa smut #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfic #kpop smut #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x you #ateez hard hours #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa headcanons

[fragiledewdrop]

WHERE NOW THE HORSE AND THE RIDER-Aka how I just had a Tolkien related freak out on the train

I can't believe what just happened to me. As in, it's such a weird chain of events that it has left me a little dizzy.

I was reading "Les Nourritures Terrestres" by Gide, and I got to a point he cites parts of a poem which I liked very much. The notes informed me that it's a French translation of "an 8th century saxon elegy called 'The Wanderer' "

That intrigued me, and, being on a train with a lot of time to pass (plus being a little tired of reading in French), I took out my phone and searched for the poem.

I found it here. It's the lament of a warrior in exile who has lost his lord and mourns the joy and glory of a world that has now disappeared. I was enjoying it a lot.

And then I got to this point:

And my mouth actually dropped open, because what?

Are you telling me that the Lament for the Rohirrim, one of my favourite poems in LOTR, which I learnt by heart at 13 and later took care to learn in the original English, which I sing when I do the dishes and which routinely makes me cry, is Tolkien's translation of an 8th century Saxon elegy?

Well, the notes at the end of the page confirmed it:

"Tolkien's rendition is hard to resist" I bet it is. I love that professional philologists add notes to their work saying "yeah, by the way, this bit here? It's in your favourite fantasy novel, and I am kinda jealous of how well it was translated, but it's Tolkien, the man spoke Old English, what can you do? Carry on, xoxo"

I mean, I had gathered that the Tolkien poem played on themes used in medieval literature, but I had no idea it was based on an actual, specific text. That makes it a hundred times cooler!

Maybe it's common knowledge, but it was a delicious tidbit of good news to me. Especially since I wasn't expecting it in the least, so I was blindsided by it.

Cherry on top? I had ignored the Old English text, since I don't understand it, but at the end I gave it a cursory read , and the line "Alas for the splendor of the prince"? "Eala þeodnes þrym!"

Now, I have never studied Old English, but I know roughly how to pronounce it (what kind of Silmarillion fan would I be if I didn’t recognize the thorn?). þeodnes has to be where "Theoden" comes from, right?

Apparently yes. I googled the "Lament for the Rohirrim", and Tolkien Gathaway has a nice little parapraph in which they explain all this. I don't know why I had never read it before, but it was a lot more fun learning it as an unexpected detour from my French practice, not gonna lie.

Bottom line: Tolkien was a both a nerd and a genius and continues to make my life brighter, and this is one of those moments in which I am very happy I have spent years of my life learning languages.

Thanks for coming to my impromptu TedTalk.

#tolkien #lotr #rohirrim #rohan #theoden #meta #lotr meta #I feel like a kid at christmas #lament for the rohirrim #poetry

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

I worry about you (Clingy!Yandere x Delinquent!Reader)

CW: body trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior

"I don't understand, why are you saying these things?!" Everett shouted, tugging on (Reader's) jacket like a man fearful of drowning. The two stood at the top of a set of wooden outdoor stairs built into a steep hill in the city's little hiking trail/park, a meeting spot where they often hung out after school.

His brown eyes glowed under the sun like molten gold, churning with heartache as he held onto his only friend.

(Reader) kept their face rigid like stone, fighting the desire to retract what they had said, their decision was final. It was for Everett's own good. "Dude, stop acting crazy. You're acting like we were dating. I'm just saying that I need space. Go make other friends, go on dates, I don't care. Jesus, just stop hanging onto me all the time."

Lies, all lies. I don't mind how clingy you are. I love that you stay by my side. I know I have a shit personality, I know I'm trash, so I really appreciate that you're the only one to stay my friend. You've been my friend since we were ten years old, so please, PLEASE, fucking take the hint. I've seen that the teachers have started to treat you differently just because you're my friend. And how many times do I have to rescue you from wannabe thugs who only fuck with you because they hate me? You deserve better than that.

You deserve better than me.

(Reader) roughly shook their only friend off their arm. It was painful now, for both of them, but (Reader) knew it was for the best.

"But why? What did I do wrong?" Everett sniffled, rubbing his eyes as the waterworks persisted. (Reader) turned to leave, unable to watch Everett any longer without their resolve crumbling. "WAIT!" Everett panicked, reaching out to latch onto (Reader's) arm again. (Reader) felt his fingers brush against their arm, and threw back their elbow to push Everett away.

They didn't know, however, that Everett had stepped forward. (Reader) misjudged how hard to push, not knowing that Everett was closer than he was just a second ago. Their wrist smashed into Everett's chest, causing him to stumble backwards, and tumble down the stairs.

Eyes widening in fear, (Reader) immediately began sprinting down the steps, skipping two at a time on the way down as their friend bounced against the weathered wood, hitting the dirt at the bottom hard. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like they would have a heart attack as they jumped the last couple stairs, crouching over their best friend crying in the fetal position.

"Everett, oh my God, are you okay?!" They gingerly scooped his upper half into their lap, examining his head for injuries.

"My- my arm..." Everett cradled his arm, crushing (Reader) further with guilt.

Placing his head down carefully, (Reader) took off running, calling out for help in hopes that someone nearby had a phone to call an ambulance. They disappeared out of Everett's sight, hearing them hollering as they ran away.

As soon as (Reader) vanished from view, Everett stopped crying, sitting up miserably. How did this happen?

Everything had been going so perfectly. Everett had set himself up as a weak, innocent best friend for (Reader), tailoring his personality for the past eight years to ensure that (Reader) would never leave him. When his family uprooted his life at the age of ten, he already knew there was no chance of happiness in his future. It was hard enough convincing anyone at his old school to like a freak like him, but being a new kid on top of having a personality that for some reason pushed everyone away? Everett knew it was hopeless.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him. The very first day in the new home Everett attempted to climb the large tree in his fenceless backyard and slipped, falling out of one of the lower branches. It hadn't hurt all that much, really just stinging a bit, but he didn't have time to even sit up before his new neighbor was rushing over to help him, having witnessed the fall from their back window. (Reader) was an angel, the summer sunlight illuminating their form like a halo. They didn't waste a second, pulling Everett's body onto their back, struggling under his weight but forcing their tiny muscles to carry Everett to his parents. It didn't even hurt, and Everett was more than capable of walking on his own, but having someone his own age care about him for the first time in his entire ten years of life.. he played into it, relishing in the attention he was receiving, forcing large crocodile tears out in hopes (Reader) would stay by his side longer. And it worked.

It worked for eight years, so why were they pushing him away now?

He constantly allowed himself to trip in front of (Reader), embarrassing himself over and over to keep them paying attention to him. Even now, throwing himself backwards down a flight of stairs while making it look like an accident, just to prevent (Reader) from leaving him.

Unfortunately, nothing was actually broken on him. He glanced around, finding a rock almost too large to grasp in one hand. Unlike when they were children, Everett didn't believe crying would be enough to keep (Reader) by his side. He rolled up the sleeve on the arm he pretended was broken, biting down onto the front of his hoodie. It didn't matter if (Reader) was only with him out of guilt, it only mattered that they were with him.

Everett smiled through gritted teeth, thinking about (Reader) sitting next to him in the hospital, refusing to leave his side for even a second, then brought the heavy rock down onto his arm with an audible crack.

Please continue worrying about me.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere best friend #clingy yandere #yandere fanfiction #writing #not proofread #tw manipulation

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

#su #su future #steven universe #su meta #my post stuff

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König shaving the readers 🐱 while making eye contact....

👄 *bites bottom lip*

I go feral for your writing my dear ❤️‍🔥

"Stop squirming."

Your legs are slightly shaking from the wide spread they are forced into to accomodate a giant between them. The said giant places a large, warm palm on your inner thigh to punctuate his command – and open you up even more.

"Please be careful," you plead as if this wasn't your idea in the first place: to have König shave your pussy with one of his knives.

You were sure he would say no because it's dangerous, but it turns out your shy request was too delicious to refuse. Other men would've probably looked at you like you're a freak and told you to shave it yourself, but König merely tilted his head and told you he would need more than one knife to do it: a big one for larger areas and a few smaller blades to finish.

"Who do you think I am?" He grunts, slightly insulted. You know he's a master when it comes to knives, you would trust this man with your life, but now that he's there, wielding a blade so close to your delicate folds, you're not so sure... What if something slips?

But König is extremely careful, and extremely gentle. This man handles his duties with obsessive dedication, so why would this be any different? And besides, you're not work, you're the love of his life.

He has fallen into some sort of a flow state with what must be two of his favorite things: a sharp, deadly blade and a soft, inviting pussy. You can do nothing but bite your lip as he shaves you with a razor-sharp focus. The knife doesn't hurt you at all: actually, it feels like he's caressing your skin with a feather.

Every once in a while he gives you a glance, probably to see how you're doing. Being on display like this for him is more than enough to make your heart flutter, but it's those dark, heated looks that make you wet.

"There... Endlich fertig." He eventually rises from between your legs and leans back to examine his work with silent approval in his stare. Then he gets a warm, wet towel to wipe you clean, and admires you once more, like your freshly shaved pussy is a work of art.

His work of art.

"Pretty," he concludes, then looks at you with another trademark flash that usually precedes a good wrecking. You squirm again, merely from that horny, promising stare fixed on you from beneath the darkness of his mask. Even your thighs start to drift closed; it's simply a reaction to him being so obsessed with you. You don't even know whether it's born from the instinct to hide your vulnerable parts from a predator or because you know it will drive him crazy when you play a little hard to get.

"Keep them open," he orders, his voice dropping a note or two. You obey immediately; you wouldn't even dream of rejecting him. You only look at him with wide, love-filled eyes as he starts to lift the mask.

You should've known he wants a taste after looking at your throbbing, wet cunt – the one he just called pretty – from up close for solid 15 minutes. You can play hard to get as much as you want, but your pussy always gives you away. It's almost dripping by now, and answers him with another wink as the familiar pair of cruel lips and a brutally scarred jawline are revealed from behind the rising veil of darkness.

And god... He's smiling.

"Have to get my reward, eh?"

#answered #könig x you #könig x female reader

[norrisleclercf1]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNHWgDf9/

this with girldad!Fernando if he ever shave his beard and his baby's reaction is exactly like the one on the video.

Even though she was a dadddy's girl, she instantly wanted her mother instead because the baby didn't recognize Fernando 😂.

A/N: Listen even I would react this way if this man ever shaved his beard. Because that's all I've seen him with is his beard

"No, why?" You whine seeing the shaving cream and the razor in your husband's hand. Fernando looks up and chuckles seeing your pout.

"Because I'm tired of it honestly. Besides I think the fans would lose it seeing my face without a beard again." He laughs, like the maniac he is. "Fernando, how is Adella going to react?" Fernando stops, thinking about your 9-month-old baby girl.

"Ah, didn't really think about it." He admits scraping the razor down and you whine watching as his beard disappears. "Nando," You groan covering your eyes. "I can't watch this," You mumble and going back to your baby girl.

Fernando laughs as he continues to shave. You'd get over it, besides you'd get to see him stubble now instead of his full grown beard. "Love, I'm finished." He calls from down the bathroom. Adella squeals hearing her Papa's voice and starts to bounce frantically in your arms.

"Oh, baby, you're going to hate this." You sigh knowing your daughter knew nothing else but her father with a beard. Fernando laughs hearing that and walks in with a towel covering the lower half of his face. "Fernando," You groan as Adella leans out of your arms reaching out for her Papa.

"What? I didn't want to freak her out completely." He whines, and stops in front of you and Adella. Adella babbles and then whines when Fernando doesn't grab her automatically. "Adella, peek-a-boo." He drops the towel and her smile slowly fades.

"Oh, Fernando." You whine seeing where this is going as her bottom lip wobble. "Oh, Oh Della no." Fernando's heart breaks and reaches out for her but she screams and hides her face into your chest and you back up. The mother bear instinct in you coming out at you glare at your husband.

"Della, my little star it's Papa." He soothes but she screams louder and cries clutching you harder. "No, go and don't come back until you grow your beard back." You glare walking away as Fernando ruffles his hair and trudges back to the bathroom.

"Okay, maybe shaving was a bad idea." He grumbles.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 fluff #f1 blurb' #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #dad!f1 #dad!fernando alonso #f1 x yn #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #fernando alonso fic #fernando imagine #fernando #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso one shot #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso blurb #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso scenario #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x y/n

[cupid-styles]

can you do a blurb about alpha harry freaking out when yn comes to his place smelling like another alpha (she hugged one or bumped into one or something) and being all grumpy and wanting to get rid of it 🤭

oh absolutelyyyyy we love our possessive frat alpha harry!!!! this is on the shorter side but part two will be the mating blurb😙😙

word count: less than 1,000

content warnings: a/o/b content (mentions of knotting/spicy but no smut), harry being jealous and possessive

frat alpha harry concept tag

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Harry wrinkles his nose the second Y/N steps into his bedroom.

"You reek."

It comes out without him even thinking about it, Y/N's jaw immediately dropping as she whips around, a shocked expression on her face.

"Sorry— sorry, that was rude," he mumbles, raising his hand to tug at his messy curls, "It's just— you smell like another alpha. A different one... like, not me."

"You could've stopped at 'another alpha.' I got it then."

He's currently resisting the urge to plug his nose — all he wants to do is throw her over his shoulder and put her in the shower, washing away the fragrance of whoever she'd been around, and scenting her until he couldn't tell who was who. The thought of his omega girl smelling like an alpha that wasn't him made him feel physically sick, bile rising in his throat as the smell continues to permeate his small bedroom.

"Who were you with?" he demands, any attempt at niceties being thrown out the window. It was difficult for him not to get increasingly aggressive the more she stood there, arms crossed over her chest like this whole thing wasn't making Harry sick.

"I told you, I had to work on a group project with some people from my humanities lecture. I just spent, like, three hours in the library with them."

"And were you sitting in a nest of their stuff or something?"

Y/N sends him an annoyed glare, toeing her shoes off in the entry of his room. There's still a decent distance between them, Harry all the way on the other side with an irritated wrinkle formed between his brows.

"Harry, you know I wasn't," she lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over her face. "I'm exhausted. I don't wanna argue about this, you know it's not my fault."

The genuine response strikes a chord within him and he suddenly feels awful for accusing of her doing anything that would purposely cause her scent to alter. He swallows harshly, trying to push away his natural alpha instincts in favor or apologizing to his girl.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, eyes falling to the carpeted floor. "You're right, it's not your fault. It just... pisses me off."

"I know it does. I'm sorry, too. I could've gone home and showered before I came over."

Harry shrugs, though his heart twitches at the thought of her natural fragrance: sweet and woody, nostalgic and comforting. The only thing he ever wants to smell for the rest of his life.

"But... you know," she says softly, a flirtatious lilt to her voice, "No alpha would even think about getting close to me if I had a pretty bite mark on my neck."

A breathy chuckle leaves Harry. "I know, baby. You deserve more than just a random night in this shitty frat house, though."

"I don't care, though—"

"I know you don't, but I do," he murmurs lowly, taking a step towards her. "You're my mate, yeah? Wanna make it perfect."

He lifts his thumb to pluck at her bottom lip.

"Are you gonna let me make it perfect for you?"

The sentiment makes her feel melty and weak in the knees, so all she's able to do is nod her head slowly. He smiles.

"There's my good omega," he says, and her stomach starts to feel like Jell-O. It's always this way when his voice starts to lower and he speaks to her as if she's the only person in the world. She gets tunnel vision, like he's the sole focus of her attention, and it'll only ever be that way.

"How will you make it perfect?" she manages to whisper out.

"Hmm," he hums, tilting his head slightly as he contemplates her question. "Think I'll take you on a trip somewhere. Maybe somewhere tropical so you can walk around in those pretty bathing suits I know you're dying to wear," she blushes, and it makes him chuckle. "I'll spend the whole day spoiling you. We'll lay out on the beach and I'll put sunscreen all over that perfect body of yours. And when we get tired, I'll carry you back to our room."

Her breath hitches in her throat, the imagery clear as day in her head as he speaks.

"Won't even care if your hair's dirty from the ocean or you have sand everywhere— I'll kiss every inch of your body, hm?" he presses a kiss just below her ear lobe and she shivers. "Stick my tongue in that cute pussy and make you squirt over and over until you're begging for me to mate you. Make sure you cum plenty before I put my cock inside of you and fuck you 'til you're all swollen with my knot."

He catches her ear between his teeth, biting gently. He can smell the arousal slicking in her panties and the warmth radiating from her desperate pussy. "And then... when you're shivering and shaking the way you do, I'll bite you. Make you my pretty fuckin' omega girl with the sweetest bite mark on your neck."

She swallows loudly and he hums, giving her hip a small squeeze.

"Now go take a shower. I need to scent you before I go insane."

#bestie asks #writing #abo harry

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet One 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: have a good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, what do you think?” Lloyd asks as he turns to you, outstretching his arms as he gestures to the endless hangers. “All yours. You got your pick.” 

You stand just inside the door of the walk-in closet. The space would take up at least half your apartment alone. You cross your arms as you glance along the rows of coloured fabric hung from the walls, organized in a perfect ombre effect of shades. On the far wall, there are shelves full of shoes and accessories, along with a vanity in the centre. 

“I know you’re a simple gal,” he grins, “but you don’t have to be anymore. Whatever you want, ain’t no mountain high enough and all that.” 

You nod and blow out between your lips. It all still feel surreal like a nightmare. You swallow and tamp down your discomfort. You didn’t hate the life you had. Your small apartment, manageable and tame. You prefer predictability, even if some might say it’s boring. 

“Erm, I dunno,” you slowly trail over to the other side of the closet. 

“Well, you could pick some shoes first. That might inspire you,” he suggests as he approaches you, “you don’t need to be too fancy, you know, you always look nice.” 

“Mm,” you nod,” thanks that’s...” 

You let the sentence hang. This is really freaking you out. Your chest feels tight and your head is buzzing. You shudder out a breath. 

“What... what am I choosing for?” You croak. 

“I told you, jellybean,” he puts his arm around you and pulls you against his side, “it’s a surprise.”  

He reaches to grab a hanger and holds it out at arm’s length. A blush-coloured satin dress with a bit of frill at the bottom of the skirt. It’s nothing you would choose yourself. 

“Sure, that’s nice,” you say, just to appease him. What else can you do? 

“Hm,” he hums, “you don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say...” 

“You don’t sound very excited,” he pouts as he turns to you, his hand lingering on your hip, “none of it? I got it all for you.” 

“I’ll wear it,” you sniff, “I’m sorry, I’m just... I’m... adjusting.” 

You don’t know how else to explain it.  

He pushes his lower lip out and narrows his eyes, “sure, sure, makes sense.” He drags his hand off your hip and steps back, keeping the dress up as he angles it before you, as if he’s imagining you in it. “This is gonna look so hot, baby.” 

You do your best to stay placid. It’s harder as you heart pounds furiously. You can’t even begin to guess what he has planned but with everything he’s done and said, you know exactly what his intent is.  

“You should get washed up, huh? Then get dolled up. Like I said, won’t need much of that,” he winks, “you could walk in ass-naked and I’m sure you’d stun.” 

You can’t help how your mouth slants at his remark. 

“Alright, jellybean, let’s get you in the tub,” he lays the dress over the velvet bench and spins back, startling you as he grabs both hips and jerks you towards him with a growl, “can I watch? I promise, I’ll try not to touch. Yet.” 

You clasp onto his wrists with a yelp. He curls his lips eagerly and you repress your horror. You don’t want to antagonise. You don’t want him to get any worse than he is. 

“Um, did you want... to?” You murmur. 

“Fucking of course,” he urges you against him, “the things I want to do...” he smirks, “I’m quaking in my boots.” 

He bows to smother you with a kiss. His mustache pokes at your uper lip and up your nose as he hums and slides his tongue across your lips. You squeeze your mouth tightly shut but he pokes through, nearly choking you as he invades. You press your hands to his chest as he locks you into his embrace. 

Finally, he part and you gasp for breath. He snickers as you puff against him. Your skin is crawling as you wriggle in his hold. 

“Yum,” he purrs. 

He lets his arms fall away and quickly snags your hand. You let him drag you around to the door, your feet hollow as they move without a thought. Resistance is plainly not a choice. 

He takes you back into the adjoining bedroom, the one you awoke in, and through another door way against the perpendicular wall. He steps to the side as he tugs you forward and releases you. Your take in the sleek black walls and black tub, the silver shower head in a monochrome booth, and the ebon marble veined with sparkling white. 

“I get it, it’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” he boasts, “this is our home, sweet cheeks. Remember that. You treat it like your very own... it is. Just like me, all yours.” 

You pad slowly inside, if only to keep a distance from your captor. You won’t forget what he is. He can give you all the luxurious things but you remember the days of starvation, of terror. He can’t see himself for what he is but you do. 

“Face masks, body scrub, bath bomb, shower gel, bonnet, robe,” he points at the fluffy purple robe still around you, “slippers,” he flicks his finger towards the mat beside the door, “lotions, creams, everything you can dream of. Oh damn, I can call a nail tech if you want a fresh mani--” 

“Uh, no thanks,” ball up your fists, hiding your short-trimmed nails, “that’s not... that’s okay.” 

“Only the best for you, kitty cat,” he says. 

He strides forward and you flinch out of his way. He goes to the tub and cranks it on, water splashing out from the high faucet. He flips the silver lever to put the stopper in place and backs up. 

“Voila, all for you,” he declares, “I’ll just...” he looks around and backs up to sit on the fluffy cushioned stools near the wall, “sit and watch. If you need help getting your back, I got you.” 

He wiggles his fingers and gives a lecherous grin. You withhold a shudder and face the basin, the water battering the bottom. You step forward and peer down into the shallows. You clutch the front of the robe and peek over in his direction but not at him. 

He waits, silently. You sway, squeezing the fluffy fabric as you peer back at the water. You don’t know if you can do it. Not with him right there. 

“Whatsa matter, baby, you need help?” He shifts and you jolt.  

“N-no, I just...” you look down at yourself and frown. 

“Ah, you’re shy. I totally get it,” he coos, “you don’t gotta be though. Your beautiful, so you should be proud. Show it off, honey.” He clucks and shakes his head, “you know that’s the thing these days, all you girls, you’re so insecure, but you trust me, sweet lips, you got nothing to be insecure about.” 

Your stomach flips. You feel hazy. You try to shrug it off and drop your hands to the belt of the rob. You untie it. You’re really going to do this. Why? 

Because you’re afraid? Weak? Yep. 

You shed the rob and look around. You hang it on the hook behind the door and return to the tub. It’s getting deeper and deeper. You touch the bottom of your shirt and scrunch it up in your fists. Just do it quickly and get in. He can only see so much from over there. 

You pull your shirt off, nothing underneath. You push your pants down quickly, your underwear rolling down inside. The skin feels cooler then and tingles across your naked skin as you latch onto the tub and swing yourself over the edge. You barely get a foot under you before you submerge your body in the water. 

You sit up, legs bent, stiff on the porcelain as the water continues to rise. It’s not quite at your chest yet. If you let it fill all the way, it might touch your chin. As you watch the depth climb, you don’t notice him until he closes. You slide to the back of the tub as Lloyd cranks off the faucet. 

You notice how his eyes stray to you. Your legs stay bent in front of you, blocking most of everything. You shrink down, hunching your shoulders as he searches through the ripples. He tilts his head and cracks his neck as he exhales and backs away. 

“Take your time, baby,” he purrs as he rubs his chest. 

He sits again and you lower your head. You’ve never been this bare in front of anyone, rarely even yourself. You’re just not comfortable without some short of shield around you. Your eyes tinge with the threat of tears. You feel like you’ve been hit across the face. This is real. Really real. 

Your eyes flick up and you reach for the purple scrubby on the little black shelf. You just have to get through it. That’s what you’ve always done. 

👄

You stare into the open case. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of make-up. When you were a teen, you had a phase, and you’ve been to enough job interviews to wield a mascara wand. Still, the amount seems excess. 

There’s almost every sort of product in every shade. Some sort of tap you don’t know what to do with, highlighter, and finishing spray. It’s too much. Your look is either a bare face or nothing at all. More often the former. 

You fidget with a tube of lipstick, clicking the lid up and down. This is all so strange. What are you getting ready for? And why? This isn’t your home, this isn’t your life, and yet it’s all so perfectly planned. 

“Honey bunnnnnn,” Lloyd’s timbre has you dropping the stick. He strides in, flustered, holding up two ties. He’s half dressed. A pair of red velvet pants and amber satin button up. It’s not a look you would go for. “What do ya think? Which tie? Paisley or the stripes?” 

You shrug and shake your head. 

He clicks his tongue, “genius, baby, genius. No tie. You’re right. Just the jacket.” 

Your mouth falls open and you nod, “sure, yeah.” 

You look back at the vanity and huff. Your face is untouched. You sit in your robe in the walk-in closet, mulling over your misery. Self-pity is as inescapable as these walls. 

“What’s up, cheeks?” He asks, “you need some help? I’m thinking you could give a bit more colour to lips but keep the rest very subtle.” 

He crosses the floor and hovers behind you. You stir around in the case and take out two bottles of foundation. You’ve never really used that either but the shades are pretty close. He lays the ties down on the vanity, brushing your back as he does, and pulls back to grip your shoulders. 

“I tried to guess as best I could. Don’t know much about all that but the lady in the store was a blessing,” he massages your shoulders as he talks. You’re tense as steel. “But you know, you got perfect skin so...” 

“Mm,” you put the foundation back and peruse the little shelf alongside the mirror. You reach for the moisturizer. Your skin feels raw.  

“I like it, au natural. Touch of cream, little lash...” 

“I’ll figure it out,” you grumble. He’s kind of annoying. No, he’s really annoying. All of this is annoying. 

“Right, yep, I will get out of your way,” he bends and kisses the crown of your head, “lots of time.” 

He strolls out and you scowl at the mirror. Something about him is getting to you. You’re not an angry person. You’re a nice person. You don’t go out of your way to be around others but when you are, you strive to be pleasant. Or at least, out of the way. 

You spread the cream over your face, watching your reflection as if it’s someone else. Where did he come from? Why? This is some cruel trick because you only ever wanted to mind your business. 

You cap the bottle and put the moisturizer back. You fish out a mascara stick and brush it on your lashes then find a neutral lip colour to put on. Nothing special, just like you. Hopefully he sees that soon enough. 

You pack away the case and push it to the back of the vanity. You get up and go to the velvet bench where the dress lays. He’s plucked out a few things to go with it. A gold necklace with small diamonds speckled along it and a pair of beige heels.  

You peek at the door before you untie the robe. You shiver as your fingers brush your stomach. You close your eyes as you recall how he wrapped you up in a towel after your bath. His touches were more than deliberate but his intrusive gaze made you squirm more. 

You pull on the lingerie tucked under the dress. A thong. You’ve never worn one of those, and a satin and lace bra with no padding. Even as you pull the dress up your figure, you feel like you’re on display. You reach back, bending your arm until your elbow throbs as you push the zipper up. 

“Need some help?” Lloyd’s voice makes you wince. 

You sniff, “sure.” 

You hold up the bodice as he approaches. You refuse to look back at him as he nears. He tickles along your spine with a single finger before he tugs on the zipper. He pulls it up little by little, until the fabric is snug around you. His fingertips drift down your back and he spreads his hands across your ass. You gasp. 

Before you can step away, his hands glide around and he grabs you by the hips. He pulls you against him and rocks with you. He inhales your scent from above and sighs. 

“Jellybean...” he almost sings, “are you...untouched?” 

You lock up and grab at his hands, trying to free yourself. 

“Is that why you’re so shy?” He snickers and spins you around, hands going to your waits, “I’m honoured to be your first.” 

You gape at him, horrified. His intent hasn’t been hard to guess but said aloud, it is all too imminent. 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the gray man #the quiet ones

[lovelyjj]

Hi! Hope you’re doing good! If you’re still doing OBX requests, I’d love to know your take of the scene in season 2 where Kiara almost drowned in the sewers and if that happened to reader instead, and had JJ all freaked out and panicked and protective!! Please and thank you 🙏🩷

Sewer

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.0k

a/n: sorry if this sucks.

“No. No way. Not happening. You’re not going in there.”

“JJ… who else is gonna do it? We have to get the gun somehow,” you countered.

“I don’t want you going in there y/n, I mean it.” JJ crossed his arms.

“What’s the worse that can happen? I get a little dirty?”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” JJ pleaded slowly giving into letting you do this.

“I will I promise thank you!”

“She’ll be fine,” Pope chimed in.

“Yeah I’ll be fine,” you gave JJ a reassuring smile.

JJ gave Pope an uneasy look but then nodded his head towards you.

With JJ’s reluctant approval your made your way to crawl into the sewer. It was muddy and wet and full of trash.

You crawled your way through the tunnel trying to hold back your gag. It was dark and dirty but you volunteered to do it so you couldn’t really complain.

JJ was worried, he started biting his nails. He didn’t know what he would do if something happened to you.

“I don’t see anything yet,” you called out.

“It’s probably at the bottom of the catch basin,” Pope shouted.

“Ugh,” you cringed as your shook the muddy water off your hands.

“Gun gun looking for a gun,” you murmured to yourself.

“Guys, I think I found something,” you voiced.

“You guys, there’s something dead in here!” you shouted.

Your screamed and then yelled, “Oh my god! There’s something dead. I repeat…”.

“… there is something dead in here!”

Meanwhile Rafe and Barry were up top by the drain. Rafe bent down and listened to the drain.

“Well, they’re in the sewer,” Rafe commented.

“Flush them out,” Rafe continued.

Barry scoffs, “you flush that pipe, you gonna kill the rat.”

“Yeah.”

“The last thing you need is more dead bodies showing up around this bitch,” Barry warned.

“You realize what you’re doing if you do that?” Barry hissed.

“I mean if you wanna be a pussy, you can leave,” Rafe argued.

“Do you not realize what you are doing, bruh?” Barry looked Rafe in the eyes.

“Get the hell out of the way,” Rafe ordered.

“All right, then. All right, then, tough guy,” Barry backed down.

“You don’t wanna be here for this, go find the truck, okay?” Rafe instructed.

Rafe started turning the wheel that let the water out.

Pope spoke to JJ asking, “Do you hear that?”

“What?” JJ responded.

“Listen.” Pope put out.

You were down in the drain when you herd the sloshing of water.

“Oh shit!”

“Guys? Guys the water!” you yelled.

“Shit! Oh my god! Y/N get out of there now,” JJ shouted.

“I don’t have time! JJ!” you screamed.

“This can’t be happening. Why did I let her go in there?” JJ talked in a panic.

JJ chest was tight and his heart was racing. He was so worried about you he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was panicking.

The water was coming in fast and you were screaming for help.

A flood of water came out from the gated hole where JJ and Pope were standing.

“Maybe there’s a manhole!” JJ shouted.

“Y/N!” Both JJ and Pope called out.

“Go go go go go!”

They started running to the manhole, screaming your name. It took everything in JJ not to faint. Allowing you to drown would be extremely traumatic. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He had to save you, there was no other option. A world without his girl is a world he wouldn’t want to live in.

You started climbing the ladder desperately trying to stay above the water. Eventually you reached the top and you stuck your fingers through the slits of the manhole.

“JJ! JJ! Pope! Help! Please i’m over here!” you shouted.

JJ and Pope ran as fast as they could. They finally reached the manhole and were breathing heavy.

“Pull! Pull it!” you said with urgency.

JJ and Pope both grunted as they pulled up on the manhole.

“Hurry! Hurry!”

JJ and Pope continued to pull it.

“JJ! JJ! Please! Please!”

“We are gonna get you out of there I promise baby,” JJ spoke.

The water was rising fast and it soon came up past the drain. JJ and Pope were pulling with all their strength. You were starting to think you were gonna drown. But then by some miracle the drain lid lifted up and fell down in front of the hole, as you emerged into the fresh air.

You collapsed on your hands and knees coughing up a storm.

“I for sure thought I was a goner for a second there,” you coughed.

“You made it baby,” JJ praised.

“ Y/N, You good?” Pope and JJ both questioned at the same time.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you cleared your throat.

“This wasn’t what we needed was it?,” you held up the gun from being stuck in your waistband.

“Holy shit you did it!” JJ cheered.

“Oh my god! Way to go,” Pope exclaimed.

JJ was so proud of you. His heart was so happy that you made it out safely.

The three of you embraced in a group hug and went to take the gun to Shoupe.

————

When the day turned into the evening, you were at heyward’s seafood using the outside shower. JJ was sitting on the bench waiting for you to come out.

You were showering away all the sewage. You felt grateful to be getting clean. You sighed finishing up your shower. You outstretched your hand for a towel which JJ gladly gave you.

The air was crisp and chilly and you felt the wind on your wet hair. You dried off and got changed. When you emerged from the shower stall JJ was smiling at you.

The two of you decided to sit on a nearby table.

“Ya know you really scared the shit out of me today,” JJ started.

“Yeah i know i’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault baby,” JJ soothed.

You gave JJ one of your signature smiles and his heart just about stopped. You enjoyed these moments with JJ. Where it was just the two of you and you enjoyed being together.

JJ was your person and without him you’d be lost. You think maybe if it weren’t for JJ you wouldn’t of got out of the drain. So you were eternally grateful.

“Thank you for saving me J,” you whispered.

“ah it was nothing. I’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

“Yeah i do,” you smiled.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x female!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank one shot #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #outer banks fanfiction #jj obx imagine #outer banks x reader #obx imagine #outer banks fluff #jj obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fic #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader blurb #pope heyward

[uglypastels]

Hi there! Maybe tmi but I’ve been daydreaming of a scenario where you and Eddie have been staring at each other for most of senior year but you’re too shy to approach each other and then you bump into him at school after-hours and suddenly you’re slamming each other into the locker room or AV room or whatever other school setting and having crazy panting feral hot sex. I love your fics so I’d pass out if you wrote something along these lines and then spontaneously combust from horniness

ok this immediately got me inspired to write, even though I told myself "no blurbs until you finish the pirate eddie fic" but fuck it. i had to write this.

warnings: SMUT minors dni! unprotected PIV (female!reader). kinda public?? in a school building but no one's around. swearing. i don't think there's anything else, but I'm sorry I'm tired.

masterlist // inbox // add yourself to my taglist

What were you doing? What in the world were you thinking? 

Well, the answer to the first question was quite simple. You were standing in front of the janitor’s closet. It was just the beginning of your free period, when you were supposed to be sitting in the library studying for your upcoming chem final, but it turns out you had more important things at hand. 

You looked down at the note in your hand again. The one he had dropped right in front of you just a few hours ago. It had been at your locker, it was early, and you were barely awake, putting away your jacket. 

At first, you had thought nothing of it, still trying to get over the fact that Eddie Munson had bumped into you. The image of his flashy smile was still developing in your corneas. So when you saw the small piece of paper, you thought it might have just been some trash he dropped, but either way, you decided to pick it up. Out of mere curiosity, really. You had seen the black pen marks bleeding through it and wanted to know what the school’s freak had to say. And what it was… was quite interesting. 

5th period. Janitor’s closet, west. Meet me there. 

E. 

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, but it couldn’t have been meant for you, could it? Either way, you went to the west hall. You found that janitor’s closet and looked around for anyone. What would other students think if you stood around? Could they tell what you were trying to build the courage up for? 

Eddie must have already been inside as the clock on the wall ticked loudly away past the first minute of the hour. You wanted to go inside; you did, but you couldn’t push away the feeling that he might have meant the note for someone else. Had he accidentally dropped it in front of you and been waiting for a completely different person?

So, why the hell did you still knock? 

Why even knock in the first place? Why not just open the door? It all felt so stupid, and you felt even sillier when the door opened and Eddie popped out.

He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you inside. It was neither light nor dark in the cupboard. The lightbulb above your head barely gave off any light, but the window in the door was a bit of help. That's when you realised that even though you could not see him there, he had seen you pace about in the corridor.

‘I thought you’d never come in.’ He said with a smile, voice airy, his body inching closer to you with each word. His hands were already setting up their place on your hips, hesitant for your reaction. He clearly had a lot of things on his mind that he wanted to express, but he also didn’t want to push any of your boundaries. You could tell just by how his breath hitched in anticipation, how he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. 

‘I– I thought you might have given me the note by accident.’ you placed your hand over his chest. Just that feeling alone, even with the many layers of his clothing between you, it made you melt. Of course, the room was small, with no proper air circulation, so that might have been why you felt so hot, but something in you told you that might not have been entirely it. He chuckled at your confession.

‘Who else would it have been for?’ His nose brushed over your cheek, his words hitting your hot skin as he spoke. He was about to move away, but you mirrored his actions right in sync, crashing your lips to his, breaking the dam of feeling and need that had been building between the two of you for the last few weeks. 

It all started with innocent looks across the room—a smile, a wink. 

But it all gradually escalated in subtle ways. No matter how much you would have wanted to, you never dared to take it any further than this. And neither could Eddie. He was a person who was very loud and boisterous, but at times he could shut down and close off. At times, for example, when he was struck by you looking directly at him from your cafeteria table. How he had wanted to walk up to you, tell you everything he had wanted to say each time he saw you, but all the words collapsed in his mind as soon as you actually showed up in front of him. And pretty much the same happened to you. 

Maybe that is why you felt like you were being pulled together. This invisible string connected the two of you in ways no one could explain but wouldn’t complain about either.

The last week, in particular, something had been set off in both of you. Nothing you did was particularly sexual, but it got him going, and you could say the same thing about Eddie. Just seeing him sit there, laid back in the chair, legs spread out, laughing at whatever his friends were saying– you wanted to sit in that lap and laugh along with him.

You couldn’t be wearing a cuter outfit, could you? Eddie’s heart was doing overtime in trying to keep him alive at the sight of you. He needed to talk to you, say something about how you made him feel. 

That is all he had intended with the note. Just so the two of you could talk. Perhaps the tiny enclosed space of the cupboard in an abandoned part of the school was presumptuous of him. Maybe he should have picked a bit more open space, but in all honesty, he was scared that after talking to him for a minute, you would just laugh in his face for how wrong he had been about you. You being interested in him? Now that would make its rounds around the school in no time. 

But then you got into that damn little closet with him, and it’s like all his sanity had left him. He couldn’t compose himself any longer. The feeling of you being so close to him made him haywire in the best way possible, and when you kissed him– 

‘Fuck,’ he grumbled from between the kiss. Your lips just parted long enough for a catch of air, but nothing longer than that. The idea that you did want, maybe even needed, him as much as he desired you… he couldn’t comprehend it, really. All he could do at the moment was hold you close, hoping that his hands weren’t actually too tight on your body. 

But then you let your body free. Your hand clasped at his shoulder as your leg snaked its way around his. Eddie took the opportunity without hesitation to push you against one of the shelving units. It buckled back and forth, but nothing fell off, so neither of you cared. Instead, he pressed you up against it, holding you up by your legs as you crossed your arms around his neck.

Eddie groaned out, to his own surprise, at you tugging his hair. His hips bucked into yours. Was there any way you didn’t feel how hard he was getting? His mind was becoming increasingly clouded with this visceral and nearly animalistic hunger for you. The kisses were getting sloppier by the second when you started pushing the denim vest off his arms. 

The untangling clothes of your bodies was a challenge, but you got there in the end, only getting rid of the most necessary parts. So, naturally, Eddie’s vest and jacket had to go so that he could pull his shirt off. You hiked up your shirt, revealing your bra and pulled your skirt up your legs, while Eddie unbuckled his trousers and let them drop to his ankles, together with his underwear. As it continued, neither of you could explain what came over you. 

He reached his hand to play with your cunt over your panties, but you scolded him. 

‘No time.’ there wasn’t. You weren’t sure how much time there was left before you had to get to your next class. There was no need to waste the little time you had on foreplay, no matter how much you wanted it or both of you wanted it.

‘Wouldn’t have taken you for being so bossy, sweetheart,’ Eddie smirked and kissed you before you could respond. Simultaneously, he thrust his cock deep inside you. You would have screamed out in pleasure if his lips had not been on you. The feeling of him stretching you out– it was almost blissful. 

‘Eddie, oh my god,’ you grabbed his hair tighter as he kept going. It was something that seemed to spur him on. Eddie Munson liked it rough. Not an unexpected discovery, but maybe how you found out– or the fact you got to experience it first-hand, was a bit of a surprise. 

‘C’mon baby, c’mon,’ his voice got deeper with each thrust and groan, mixing with your moans and gasps of pleasure. The shelf to which he had pinned you also kept making noise, and the two of you constantly had to keep pulling yourselves back before everything would topple over and the entire school would hear what you were up to. 

You could feel yourself getting closer, and you tried to clarify that to Eddie, but coherent words, or even noises, were too much for your brain at that moment. How he actually managed to understand that was a miracle. He kissed you deeper. Like the ones before, the kiss was full of heat and passion. It was hungry and filthy. Messy. 

Your nails scratched over his back; Eddie hissed at the sensation, bucking his hips deeper into you. You had just enough time to open your mouth, where a nearly pornographic moan would escape from if it wasn’t for Eddie’s hand that quickly caught it. He pressed his palm over your lips. 

‘Shh, don’t want to get caught, do we?’ he smiled. It was a tired smile, enhanced by the pearls of sweat on his chest and his hair curling on his forehead as he kept on pulling you closer to your climax. He pulled you into it. Tighter and tighter. So tight until it all snapped, and you unravelled in his arms. 

Eddie pulled out of you slowly, carefully. He held you until both of you caught your breath and pulled your shirt back over your chest… but not before lightly kissing your breasts. Something you couldn’t help but giggle at.

 You took the time he spent getting dressed to regain some energy. Never had you ever been fucked like that before. You could readily admit that. Eddie Munson was… something else, for sure. It was terrific… and yet, when you looked at Eddie, something seemed to be off. He was chewing at the inside of his cheeks, brows furrowed, deep in thought. 

‘Something wrong?’ you asked.

‘No,’ is all he said, but you called bullshit. ‘This isn’t how I had… Sorry, I guess, if that was a bit…’ he drifted off, cheeks tinged in a pink hue as he focused on buckling his belt. 

‘It was great Eddie.’ You wanted him to know you enjoyed yourself. 

‘I just… I don’t want you to think that this is why I told you to come here. I had just wanted to talk, actually–’

‘What did you want to talk about then,’ you smiled. 

‘I– I’m not quite sure anymore,’ he chuckled, scratching at the back of his head. The boy was utterly whipped and fucked out. You noticed a lock of his hair sticking out, and without much thought, you walked up to fix it. 

‘Well, I’m really glad I came,’ you kissed his cheek, which was burning up, ‘in all senses of the word.’ 

‘I’d be more than happy to do it again,’ he kissed the corner of your mouth. ‘If you’d let me, of course.’

‘It’s a deal, Munson,’ you told him as you walked out of the cupboard. 

Eddie felt like he was walking on a cloud for the rest of the day. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He just couldn’t…. He couldn’t think a girl like you would just do all of that with a guy like him. At one point, he actually started considering he had dreamed it all up. He had probably accidentally fallen asleep during a class or something, and it had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination. 

Easy to say all of those ideas went away the second Eddie opened his locker at the end of the day, and a small piece of paper fell out. Right on the ground between his feet. On it was written: 

Tonight, my house.

How about that deal, Munson? 

the End

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