#(i spend too much time making my lines clean)

[venerawrites]

Aww I love that you write for Kiba! He really doesn't get enough love so thank you! Can I please request headcannons for married and family life with Kiba, Kakashi, Gaara and Neji (with female reader)? Like being married and having children with them? They're my favourites and you write them so, so well. I hope that request is alright, please don't feel pressured to write it if you don't want to. I hope your week is amazing 🫶🏻

author's note: Kiba was one of my first fictional crushes and I totally agree he doesn't get enough love! Thank you so much for this beautiful request! I really hope you enjoy and that so far your week has been good! <3

➤ Kiba

Kiba as a husband is everything but boring!

During the first year or two, marriage would feel just like your relationship before that - laid back, chill and maybe a bit immature.

He is an amazing partner - he is very affectionate, never fails to make you smile and loves to surprise you.

However, when it comes to taking care of himself, he is like a big baby - I don't really see him doing any chores in the beginning of your relationship and even when he tries, more often than not he either burn or flood the kitchen.

Maybe it was fate or karma of some sorts, but I totally see you with twins or triplets!

If you thought life was crazy, wait till your house is full with hyperactive, unpredictable and loud Inuzukas.

Surprisingly, Kiba actually enjoy his role as a dad - probably because they all take after his personality, and tries to spend as much time with you and the children as possible.

Every time he has a free day, he organises a "family fun day" - more often than not, it is not that fun for you, as you have to run or yell after them to be careful while running/swimming/climbing etc.

While he would never get too much into housework, he will try to help around the house as much as he can, especially once you get back to work. (also, wouldn't do a good job and you would have to clean after his cleaning all the time, but it is the enthusiasm that counts!)

His attitude towards you would remain the same - he is just as in love with you as he was as a teenager, constantly trying to flirt with you with cheesy pick-up lines and smack your bum when you least expect it.

With multiple children, you probably won't have a lot of opportunities for spend time alone or go on dates, but you are both quite comfortable with your chaotic life.

He is definitely the laid-back and fun parent. Sorry, but you are going to have to be the "bad cop" - he can just bring himself to scold or punish your children.

He would often team up with them in order to prank you or his mother. Also, every bad word they learn by the age of six, is definitely his fault. (But hey, is it his fault they can remember every slip up?)

Kiba absolutely wants more children, so you better brace yourself, because I totally see you with another set of twins/triplets... it's these Inuzuka genes, what can I say!

➤ Kakashi

Surprisingly (or not so much since we are talking about Kakashi) your two children came before you got married.

You have been together for years and it worked perfectly, so what would a ring and a signature on a paper change? In the beginning, both of you were of the opinion "why fix something if it isn't broken?" and none of you see the point in marriage.

More or less, you were already acting as spouses - you tried to equally divide the household chores, but since he was working most of the time, you naturally took the role of the carer of the house, while he was the provider.

Once your first child was born, however, Kakashi started to seriously think of a change.

Since being a child, his life has been filled with battles, blood and loss - and he surely did not want for these things to be present in your baby's life.

However, change was hard and while he tortured his mind with ideas about how much happier you are going to be if both of you give up the shinobi life and move somewhere far, far away, he never voiced his thoughts out loud to you.

Kakashi is a very calm and loving dad - it almost come naturally to him, but you would notice something was bothering him, since as a partner he acted a bit more withdrawn.

When your second child was born, this is when he knew for sure he has to step down as a Hokage and retire from the ninja lifestyle once and for all. I imagine at this point, with two kids at home, you were retired as a shinobi.

When he brought the idea of moving in the outskirts of the village, he didn't expect for you to agree so quickly. You knew Kakashi for years, even before you got together, so you knew he really needed this break and detachment in the name of your family.

Once he left the position as a leader of the village, he focused 100% of his attention on you and your children - your oldest was a toddler by that time and while he felt sad because he felt like he missed the first two years of their life, he tried to enjoy every moment and stay grounded in the present.

He also finally decide it is time to propose and make you officially Mrs. Hatake - everything in your life was slowly falling into place and this felt like the only thing missing. (I imagine a small ceremony with both of your children as flower girls/page boys.)

Kakashi as a husband is the same as he was before that - loving, gentle, romantic, sometimes lazy, yet always attentive. The only difference is that he is even more relaxed and probably would pick up a random hobby such as gardening or maybe even writing?

Your have a very idyllic and peaceful life with him, and you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

➤ Gaara

Married life with Gaara is hard in the beginning.

His work has been his whole life since he was a teenager, so when you finally tied the knot and, a few months later, welcomed your first child, he didn't know how to handle it.

He tried to juggle his job and his new role as a husband and father without any help for the first six months, but failed miserably.

The long hours he spend in the office definitely affected your relationship, especially since you are the one who had to give up your career in order to stay at home and take care of the baby.

There will be a rough period of time during you will be either ignoring each other or fighting with each other. Each of you will be upset, frustrated and annoyed with the other, but will not know how to fix things.

Don't get it wrong - this man loves you to death, but this is all new to him too! And it is especially stressful, since he never had a proper functioning family anyway.

Eventually, one night after another fight, you will sit down on the floor and share (or more likely scream at him) all the pent up frustration and worries you had been keeping inside.

From that moment everything changes.

Gaara would realise he needs to spend more time with his family, so he will probably promote Kankuro to a "shadow Kazekage" or any other title, under which he can replace him in the office some days of the week.

You start communicating more and soon fall in a natural rhythm - he is definitely a man that likes to do everything 50-50 with you, including care of the baby and household chores.

A very gentle and attentive husband - he always listen to your advice and tries his best to keep the spark between you by organising surprise getaway weekends for both of you every so often or by bringing you flowers/gifts when he comes home from work.

I would imagine given his position, he would try to influence to remain at home - he has always been worried about your safety and the potential risk of his enemies targeting you, but since you were now also the mother of his child, his worry slowly turned into a paranoia.

He will respect your decision no matter what, but if you decide to go back to work at some point - he will forget his morals and will abuse his role as a Kazekage in order to arrange some extra security to be around you at all times.

I feel like he will be a very calm dad in the beginning, but the more his children grew, the more nervous he became - babies are easy to manage, but toddlers? Pre-teens? Oh, Kami!

Naturally, he is very anxious about his performance as a parent, so please provide him reassurance every now and then, just so you can ease his mind!

Nevertheless, he is great with your child and they absolutely adore him. If you had a girl, she will totally be daddy's girl. If you had a boy, he would dream one day to grow up like Gaara.

I totally see you guys adopting some family traditions like Sunday dinner, "come-with-dad-to-work" Thursdays or book Fridays.

Gaara is going to be satisfied with one child, two at most (only if they have at least five years difference).

➤ Neji

Neji was made to be a father and a husband!

Raised in a very traditional family, he has been dreaming about becoming a husband and father pretty much from the moment you got together.

I think you would be married for about a year, before your first child is born, during which you will get you own house in the Hyuga compound, arrange its interior and enjoy your life as newlywed couple.

He will never command you or restrict your freedom in any way, but he will definitely influence a lot of your decisions.

For starters, it is expected that you will stop working and become a housewife, as any other woman married into the clan has done before.

I feel Neji loves you enough to respect your wishes if you decide not to do it, but he will still insist being the main provider for your family. (Do not resist him on this one, it is quite important for him!)

That doesn't mean he won't help around the household, especially after your child is born - he is actually very, very good cook and will take care of your dinners at least a few times per week.

As a father, I imagine he is very caring and loving, but will become more strict as they start to grow older. He values fairness and order a lot, so it will for sure reflect in his parenting style.

Your child absolutely adores him though - Neji is definitely their role model and the best teacher. You, on the other hand, will be the more laid-back parent, using any chance to spoil them or treat them with some extra sweets/toys behind Neji's back.

Neji is very confident as a parent, so he won't really have any worries about how you are raising your little one. What worries him, however, is how much less time you are both spending together.

I think once your child reach toddler age, he would start declining more and more missions, so he can stay at home. I also imagine that seeing his growth and commitment to the family, Hiashi would involve him in the leadership of the clan.

He will still find time to organise little dates just for both of you or late midnight walks, when you can enjoy only each other's company.

He would grow more serious and less fun with time, but given how much responsibilities he how stressful his life is, you would try and support him in every decision he makes (even when you are not fully convinced by his reasoning).

Your love would blossom from fun and carefree to mature and responsible. (& tbh I think that is absolutely beautiful!)

Both of you want at least one more child, so I imagine you would get pregnant a two or three years after you gave birth to your first born.

cc artwork: Daniel Clarke

#kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #sabaku no gaara #gaara x reader #neji hyuga #neji x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons

[furuyalover]

Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧

somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

— ft. iwaizumi hajime

AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff

"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."

you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.

he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,

hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..

"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."

after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"

he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.

after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?

"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.

the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."

"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.

with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.

"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

#holy moly i am so in love w iwa #him & this song? yes. #mars & her music! #game time! #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu x you #hq x you #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hcs #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hajime iwaizumi fluff #hajime iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu event #haikyuu #team manager 🫧!

[tizzymcwizzy]

yet again, chat noir has gotten me out of art block, and become my default for when i don't know what character to draw,,,,, HE'S JUST STANDING THERE! BEING PRETTY!!! IDK MAN

#another one of those drawings that took an ungodly amount of time for some reason #(i spend too much time making my lines clean) #anyway #I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE? IDK WHAT DRUGS I WAS TAKING TO MAKE ME DRAW THE ANATOMY THIS WELL BUT I'LL TAKE IT #this is super refreshing cause i feel like my art has been really lacking lately and i haven't been drawing as much as i want to #and then i did this cause the iPad is very convenient and i really like it!!! :D #(((((debating whether i want to get an iPad for myself or not))))) #ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #my art #ml leak free #i made him more soft beef than the usual skinny lanky that i do and it was fun :) #also yeah i did the shading by hand idk how to download procreate brushes

[madigoround]

Some days it feels like I am just desperately trying to find reasons to live so I don’t jump off a bridge and it’s hardly even working

Edit: I have spent some very necessary kitten cuddle time and received some very sweet messages from people and I am feeling more sane, definitely recommend nice people and cats lol

#listen i don’t want to be complaining all the time but this is my blog and this is where I vent so maybe just ignore this #literally searching on Pinterest and google reasons to stay alive reasons not to kill yourself etc and all they want to give me is the #crisis line number lol #i really feel like ive surpassed my limit for things I’m able to take today #and it hurts really really bad like it’s just too much #i had my annual eval with my boss a little while ago and she hates me so much she doesn’t even try to hide it #and she just disrespects me and tears me down at every turn no matter how hard I try #and im still stuck in this job by contract until January first and this job makes me want to fucking die #like you Can literally spend your days taking pictures of bloody murder scenes and talking with witnesses and victims and such and she’ll #still say you aren’t doing enough or dedicated enough to this job #and i really went in there with the notion that I was just going to roll over and take whatever she threw at me because it’s not worth it #she turns everything into a fight and all of a sudden she’s going REALLY? you REALLY think you do (this function of your job that you #definitely do multiple times a week despite her skepticism like it’s literally in my memos there’s evidence #and something that I haven’t had the heart to talk about has kind of come to fruition today #about a month ago I was cleaning out my car in preparation for my inspection and I pulled out a box from the mouse infested storage unit a #few months ago that I was just going to throw out because that stuff disgusted me too much to look at #and we had thought we had checked everything and cleaned it all before bringing it in my car or house and I pulled it out and it had #burrow holes in it from #a mouse i literally stopped typing that tag because I heard one and I took the box out and over the last few weeks I thought I heard a c #creature scurrying but I was like I’m probably just paranoid this was from months ago it’s probably gone #and today on my lunch break I started to clean my car and low and behold I found it’s little nest home thing with all kinds of makeshift #bedding and I put down poison so hopefully it will eat the poison and leave my car to get water cause they’re supposed to seek out water #and it’s like honestly I’m not sure how much more I can take right now like I’m really trying to be positive and focus on the good and all #and i just kind of wish that I could decide to die and it would happen painlessly and I’d just be gone #it would be so much easier for everyone I think if I was gone

[chososdiscordkitten]

Keep Them On!

Synopsis: jjk men x reader w glasses ^-^ (yes they stay on during sex)

Includes: : 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐣𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 Content: gn!reader, smut with a sprinkle of fluff, no plot, penetrative sex, cum play, oral (m), glasses kink(?)

MDNI

Naoya Zenin

Naoya is so mean when it comes to your glasses. At first, he was generally mean—pushing them up the bridge of your nose harshly when they would slip or hiding them whenever you made some kind of retort at him that he didn’t like. 

Most of all, Naoya didn’t like it when he would say something you deemed ‘controversial,’ and you would take your glasses off in the middle of the conversation. Muttering something about how you didn’t want to see his face anymore. 

So the next time your glasses were pressed against his face- lips slotted against each other and the plastic frames only making him more frustrated. Naoya pulled away from you, urging your head down to imply that he wanted oral. (yes he's a head pusher)

And when your hands reached for the little legs of your spectacles- Naoya sucked his teeth. Nodding his head ‘no’ and freeing his cock from his bottoms.

Muttering something along the lines of ‘I want you to see as best as you can.’ with far too much smugness coating his words with the very tip of his cock smeared against the clean glass with an amused laugh. 

You scoffed as you felt Naoya slap his tip against the side of your cheek- urging you to open. 

You were on your knees, between his legs, as he sat lazily on the couch, with one hand atop your head and the other wrapped around his base.

And when your lips finally had his tummy clenching, his eyebrows furrowed, and his head daring to tip back. Teetering on the very edge of an orgasm, Naoya pulled your lips off of his cock. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, knowing he had a penchant for seeing you swallow his mess. Then it clicked when his hand started making filthy strokes at his cock- aiming his tip directly for the glass lenses with a smile.  

His spend coating your glasses with a groaning huff from your lips. His only excuse was, “What? You were the one who said you didn’t wanna see me.” 

When he saw the sight of the glossy frames being spurt by his cum- Naoya was sure to ask you for blowjobs with them on from now on. 

Even if you spent the next 30 minutes complaining about how hard they were to clean- and how he was just being a brat. Naoya could always get you new glasses- or, as he put it. “Stop being blind, and you won’t need them.”

Satoru Gojo

From the moment Gojo found out you had glasses, he would make little comments about them. Not mean- just strange little statements that would leave his lips without filter. 

When you would refuse to wear them in public- squinting at everything and holding onto his arm as a guide. Gojo would tell you to put them on, that you look even hotter with them. At once, even calling you a sexy librarian. 

His own way of assuring you that a pair of glasses didn’t change anything to him. 

He found it funny that he had perfect vision- almost too perfect, and you. Well, you needed pieces of glass to see or you would get dizzy.

In his mind, Satoru interpreted that as ‘I cover my eyes because I get sick if I don’t- and you wear glasses or else you get dizzy, another thing we have in common.’ just more ramblings of a man who was utterly whipped. 

And this- well, it only translated to the bedroom activities. 

The first few times- you always made sure to take them off. Knowing how Satoru can be with his afflictions for various positions- you didn’t want to break them. Same when it went for oral; you always took them off before going down on him. 

And Satoru tried to get you to forget to take them off- be it interrupting when you’d try to catch up on work assignments, he would come in and distract you from them. 

He would win most of the time- but you always took them off. Didn’t matter how pent up you or him were, you always did. 

And the one time you chose to forget- too tired and completely uncaring if they stayed on while Gojo’s warmth kept you under the covers with him. Even if all of Satoru’s insides were screaming at him to say ‘Yippee’ and start jumping up and down at the opportunity presented to him. He didn’t. 

Gojo went on about his tasks as he normally did- but when it came to spreading your thighs to welcome him, looking upon your framed eyes and smiling to himself at the little fog formed at the bottom from how heated your cheeks were. 

Even more when his thrusts became frantic- your head moving against the pillow and slightly moving the glasses on the bridge of your nose. 

And your hands were far too busy gripping on his arms- his hair, whatever part of his body you could find to help soothe the ache. Far too busy to fix the crooked lenses.

Gojo looked at you with the same look on his face he makes when he discovers something new he likes. A new flavor of candy, a song he liked the melody of- and now, the pretty whimpers leaving your lips, all topped off with your fogged, crooked glasses- only accentuating the fucked out expression you had. 

And when he rolled off of you, looking at your lazy hand, reach up to the frame and pull them off, your lashes wet with salty water and your cheeks still warm to the touch. 

Satoru made sure to ask you properly to keep them on next time- on his knees with his head bowed as though he was asking some colossal favor from you. 

You would only furrow your eyebrows with a slight grimace- knowing of all the strange things he could ask of you, this one was probably the most tame one.

Suguru Geto

Suguru starts off so sweet with you- brings them to you freshly cleaned whenever he sees you without them. Lightly scolding you- “You’ll only get blinder if you don’t wear them.” he would say- sliding the legs behind your ears and making sure you had them on properly.

He only found it even cuter when you would squint at something- unable to see correctly without them on. 

When it came to intimacy;

Geto made the discovery of your glasses being a turn on from the first few times he saw them fog up and slightly tilt to the side as he pounded them off. 

But- there was one thing Suguru did that was the slightest bit annoying. Sure, you could deal with his incessant words- urging you that it was fine and you didn’t have to take them off. Or when you would reach to remove them Suguru would replace your hands and push them back up on your nose for you.

How desperation fills your movements when you take them off- tossing them to god knows where before connecting your lips to his again. 

Unable to stand the little nudges the plastic made against Suguru, only seeing your glasses as an obstacle in the way of kissing him properly. 

Leading to finding the frames in the most strange of places- and most of all, once or twice finding them broken, bent- or even with a lens popped out, nowhere in sight. 

Or when you’d be in public and you’d look at him over the top of them- raising your brows with a questioning look on your face- it only reminded him when you would be giving him head and do the same thing. 

He tries not to make a mess on them- he tries his hardest to cum in your throat or on his tummy. But it’s almost like his cock and brain rewire at the last second and aim his cockhead for the glass. 

And Suguru’s thing for you in glasses was only intensified when you popped his cock from your lips- rubbing his shaft on your cheek with a fucked out smile. And his tip- nudging against the very bottom of your frames with every little stroke your hand made on his shaft. 

And when he finally spurt his mess- your lips parted and waited for Geto to take his aim. Hot spurts of white landing on your cheeks, your nose, your lips- but most of it was on the glass you used to see. 

What Suguru found most endearing- was when you would only smile and lick as much as you could from your lips. Not even complaining about his shitty aim. 

In the end it was just glass that could be replaced had you really wanted to. 

Toji Zenin

Toji swears he didn’t even notice you had them- he tried to convince you he had never noticed you needed glass to see. 

But he would do this thing- this particular thing that you had never noticed before. 

Be it when you’d be speaking- not noticing how his eyes would tighten, fixating on the little crook at the edge of your frames. 

Reaching a hand out and pushing them to sit correctly on the bridge of your nose. 

He had done it far too many times for you to ask what he was doing or why- so used to seeing his hand reach out to you that you never questioned it. 

Toji also had this urge when it came to intimacy- and you were always too fucked out to notice his little habit during sex. 

When you were on your back, your eyes closed and lightly covered by fog on the glass. The frames slightly tilted to one side as his eyes looked at your expression. His hand would go up to your face with an indulgent smile on his lips. 

Fixing the little crook of your glasses before enjoying the sight before him again. 

And when you were on all fours- Toji was thankful to have a mirror in front of you, piercing eyes watching the frames dare to fall off with every powerful thrust he made against your bottom. 

Almost like he enjoyed watching them slip off- something about your fucked out expression adorned with a pair of crooked glasses, scratched at an itch in his brain he didn’t even know was there. 

Toji had never realized this before you—he didn’t know if it was you specifically or glasses in general. 

You always saw it as Toji showing his tenderness towards you- even if you were too busy focusing on other things to notice the little habit. 

It didn’t click in his mind till one day he was listening to you speak- far too tangled in his own thoughts trying to figure out what it was precisely. 

And then he thought back to the sight of you in the mirror. The look of complete and utter dissolution, as though you had finally let loose and released tension, that’s what he found satisfying. 

Associating glasses with some kind of intelligence- even if you weren’t the brightest crayon in the box at times. The frames made you look the tiniest bit more intelligent. Like you were well-read. 

And when he would fuck them right off of you- it seemed like he was fucking out any unnecessary fun fact you harbored in your brain.

With every roll of his hips- he would fuck you dumb, and continue till you were a blabbering mess, unable to see the satisfied look on his face in the mirror when they would fall off. 

Kento Nanami

Out of all the men- Kento would be the most respectful of your glasses. 

Not as though they were some kind of out of the ordinary trait you had than nobody else did. You just needed a little help to see is all. 

But Nanami would be lying had he said that the sight of you pushing your glasses up your head like a headband didn’t make something in him twitch. 

Be it how your eyes glimmer without the glass blocking them or how effortlessly radiant you look when you look at him without them.

Or when you would crawl between his legs and nudge the book he was reading to the side. Pressing the side of your face on his tummy and watching the frames move from the smush of your cheek. 

When he would roll over in the mornings and see your uncovered face. The bridge of your nose undented from the nose pads and the little creases of your eyes on full display so early in the morning. 

What he hated most was how the glass hid your eyes- even if they were clear. A glare here or there or a smudge would make your eyelashes go overlooked. 

Nanami understood that you needed them- that there was nothing he could do about it. He still liked looking at you with them on- but not as much as he liked seeing you without them. 

It was still you behind the glasses, after all. 

But when you would ask him to wait a moment- his hands wandering and gripping at any exposed skin they could find. His hips rested between your thighs. You would reach your hand from his hair- removing the glasses and placing them on your night table. 

Wasting no time in connecting your lips with his again. Mumbling that you wanted to see him with your bare eyes between every breath of air he took. 

This only gave Nanami the opportunity to keep his chest pressed against you- keeping his lips near yours. Even if they were not locked anymore, a mere millimeter from each other as you looked into his eyes. 

Your request for looking upon him without assistance was heard. He made sure to stay as close as possible so you could see what you desired. 

The light blush that roamed down his cheeks, every furrow his brows would make. And feel every exhale he would make tingle your skin before locking your lips again. 

Lazy and unpatterned, not even bothering to close your eyes as his tongue swirled against yours. 

As much as Kento liked your glasses- he much preferred you like this. No struggle in squinting just to see him. Being more than close enough for your bare vision to see his expression entirely. 

Choso Kamo

Choso is sooooo sweet when it comes to your glasses. 

Seeing you gasp whenever they’d slip off the nightstand, far too scared for them to break and not be able to buy new ones to contain the winces. 

Or how you’d take them off occasionally and wipe the lenses whenever they smudge. 

Even if you never mentioned it, Choso noticed the care you had for the frames. 

So when you would ask him to pass them to you- he would make sure to grab the legs or the little bridge. Mimicking the way your fingers are always avoidant of the glass. 

Or when he would notice a minor blot on the glasses before you could. Taking them off of you and swiping away any debris you had yet to see. 

Choso had the decency to push your glasses up to the top of your head before he kissed you- knowing he could be needy and could end up damaging them had he not been careful. 

And Choso never liked holding back how he felt when it came to you- so instead of that, he would move the precious item away and kiss you with all the urgency that buzzed in his insides. 

When they would be at the top opf your head, almost moving too eager, they would slip down and lightly hit his nose. He would gruff softly- nearly irritated that the pair of glasses were trying to cockblock him right now. 

Choso would gently take them off of you before folding them- placing them on a flat surface with a sprinkle of urge in his movements before connecting his lips to yours.

And in the mornings, he would always like watching your eyes open- a little squint forming on your eyes when you would wake. Little to no hesitation in giving you your glasses to see him clearly. 

Kiyotaka Ijichi

You had always found it rather tedious that Ijichi insisted on kissing you with his glasses on- yours clashing with his were bound to cause scratches on both of your frames. 

You always took yours off before he did his; muttering about how he wanted to see you clearly when things got heated. 

But something about how he would look- so flushed and on the brink of whimpering. So easily flustered and tight in his slacks from a few sloppy kisses. 

Even more so when he would clear his throat and adjust the little frames as you took yours off. As though this was some kind of business deal for which he had to stay composed.  

Even during intimacy, he would keep them on- fogged up and bordering on falling- and yet Ijichi still insisted on keeping them on. 

And the next chance you got- you pulled away and saw him with the little frames. His cheeks blushed red with a growing fog at the bottom of them. You couldn’t help but smile. 

Pushing up the bridge of your own glasses and raising a hand to the black legs of his frames. “It’s my turn to see you.” you mumbled, pulling them off and staying close enough for him to see you. 

That what taking off his glasses meant only gave you more reason to stay close to him and not dare pull away. 

Ijichi got even more flushed, if that was possible- being able to feel your 20/20 vision gaze on his skin whenever you would scan over his body. Suddenly, all too aware of how it must have felt for you when you took your own glasses off in these moments. 

He wondered if it ever felt as piercing for you as it did for him. Or even as half as vulturous as your eyes went low- the starved smile on your lips only adding to it. 

-

(a.n) my most recent regret is not buying 'cum lube' and instead buying the regular lube. SIGH.

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #choso smut #choso jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #jjk choso #toji fushiguro #geto x reader #naoya x reader #jjk x chubby reader #naoya zenin #ijichi kiyotaka #jjk ijichi

[talkdutchtome]

Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?

"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . fluff )

wc . . . 825 words )

read my other work . . . here )

request something . . . here )

“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.  

You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him. 

“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone. 

“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed. 

“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.  

“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.  

“Premium air?” he questioned 

You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."  

Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.  

“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question. 

“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”  

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!" 

You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.  

"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this." 

You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?" 

Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks." 

You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else. 

As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?" 

He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?" 

You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction. 

Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you. 

You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset." 

Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.” 

"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice. 

Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead." 

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine

[hotyanderedaddies]

Spending the Night with Your Yandere Vampire Boyfriend

[Yandere! Vampire x Human! GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You've been with your new boyfriend for a few weeks by now, and things were developing really quickly. Much faster than any of your previous relationships.

Your new boyfriend, whom you playfully call Daddy, recently revealed to you that he's a vampire which was a total shock to you.

Well, maybe you should've caught on when he'd only come around at night when the sun was down, you never saw him eat any food, he seemed to avoid garlic at all costs, and he was super pale... and he had vampire fangs.

A total surprise.

Either way, you weren't too scared when Daddy revealed his "secret" to you.

Daddy is perfect boyfriend, honestly.

Daddy knows all of your likes and dislikes, and even loves all of your hobbies. The two of you share the same interests in books, movies, video games-- everything!

And you better since he spent such a long time following you around, studying your every move. Watching. Waiting.

Daddy is a pure gentleman, always treating you with the upmost respect. He virtually worships the ground you walk on, treating you like you're his precious treasure.

Because you are his. All his. And only his.

Daddy really seemed to walk straight out of a daydream, rescuing you from such a dreary life of working retail and attending boring college classes. He really helped to lift you up, especially after so many of your personal relationships seemed to have tapered off once you'd started college.

He only got rid of those who would try to take you away from him. Honest. He did it all for your relationship.

So when the two of you were on one of your dates at Daddy's house, he suggested that you stay the night (well, the morning). He had some sleep aid that he could give you to help you fall asleep during the day; although, dating a vampire was kind of throwing your sleep schedule out of whack.

At first, you were a little nervous since the two of you hadn't done anything past making out, but with one look at the eager face Daddy had, you melted.

"Sure, Daddy," you smiled.

Daddy's smile stretched out his handsome face, and his vampire fangs even poked out.

He grabbed you by the hand, his cool fingers interlocking with yours, as he led you up the stairs to the bedroom. You've never been up to his bedroom since the two of you almost never made it past the couch, so you were a little excited--

The bedroom door swung open and in the middle of the room was the "bed".

"A c-coffin?" you stuttered, your stomach falling to the floor.

"Of course, Darling," Daddy chuckled, dragging you closer to the coffin. "I'm a vampire after all. What did you think I slept in?"

"A bed...?"

"But then how would I keep the sunlight off me?"

...oh.

The coffin seemed to be standard-sized (you've been to one or two funerals, so they weren't completely unfamiliar to you), and it was lined with a clean, white satin that looked incredibly soft to the touch.

But it was a coffin!

And your frantic human brain couldn't help but associate it with death! Hell no, you weren't getting in that thing!

"Um, Daddy?" you mumbled, uncertainty drenching your small voice. "M-maybe we could rush to my apartment to use my bed and I'll put up some curtains?"

Daddy's smile disappeared, quickly being replaced with a deep frown. He narrowed his red eyes in your direction, tightening the grip he had on your hand.

"We won't make it before the sun rises," he growled, his voice deep and curt. "Now, get in our coffin."

When you hesitated, Daddy lost his patience, wrapping both of his steel arms around you. The vampire was much stronger than you are, so he had absolutely no problem forcing you into the tight confines of the small coffin.

Daddy crawled inside right after you, grabbing the lid and slamming it down with a bang. An audible click sounded out, and you were trapped in the dark coffin.

You couldn't see a thing thanks to how dark it was.

The coffin was so compact that you could feel multiple sides-- the back pressed against you and was rather soft, but you could also feel the one of the sides and the top touching you. It was enclosed all around you, trapping you, leaving almost no room for you to even move or wiggle around.

You could barely move.

You could barely breathe.

But there was a cold, hard feature inside the coffin with you, and it snaked both of its large arms around you and roughly yanked you into it.

Daddy buried his nose in your air and moaned loudly as he inhaled your scent.

"Calm down, Darling," he cooed. "Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt dizzy from your panicked hyperventilating.

"It's okay, my sweet darling," Daddy continued to whisper into your ear, keeping you trapped against him. "I know it's a bit of an adjustment, but it'll be worth it, I promise."

He pressed his cool lips against your forehead.

You tried to squirm away, but he was tight against your front and the side of the coffin was tight against your back.

There was no room to move away.

At all.

You're trapped.

"Get some sleep, Darling," Daddy yawned. "I love you."

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #Yandere vampire #Vampire x reader #possessive love #vampire #vampire boyfriend

[luveline]

Ok this isn’t Halloween but I would love to see a fic of the first time r spends the night at Aaron’s and she changes into her pj which r these super cute delicate tank and shorts set and Aaron goes crazy!! Like he’s a gentleman obvi (or trying hard to be) but he starts opening my flirting with her and she’s so confused bc usually he’s much more subtle

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

cw adult theme mdni

You don't bother changing in the bathroom. It's not an attempt to come onto him, though you're wondering if he might want that, but a realistic practice. If Aaron wants to be intimate with you tonight he's going to see much more of you than your bra.

He returns from the bathroom as you're pulling down your camisole. It's a simple pair of pyjamas but made of a more expensive fabric, the shorts bordering immodest and the camisole cupping your breasts with enough support that a quick glance in the mirror tells you what you'd wanted to know; you look cute. 

Aaron smiles at you, something unreadable in his expression. His brows lift ever so slightly. "Nice socks." 

"I get cold feet sometimes," you say, pressing your fuzzy heels together. 

"Yeah?" he asks, pushing his hair out of his face. "Me too." 

"What side do you sleep on?" you ask. 

"What side do you sleep on?" he asks back. "Go where you want." 

You pick a random side, too nervous to think about it in depth. The sheets are crisps to the touch and smell freshly laundered, soft against your naked legs. You feel a little like you're playing make believe all cleaned and washed yourself, your heart in your wrist as you squeeze it, watching him flick off the big light and cross the carpeted floor slowly. His room, his entire apartment, is smart but cosy, ambient lamp light and open space. 

"Do you wanna watch TV?" he asks, putting the remote in your lap as he shakes out the sheet and slips in next to you. His body heat is immediately felt. His knee brushes yours as he leans in. "Hold that button down." 

Despite what you'd said about cold feet, you're nervous and he runs warm; by the time you've found something to watch on TV he's sewn his arm through yours and you're practically running a temperature. You have to take your legs back out and lie atop the sheets. 

You pull a knee up. The shorts ease down. 

Aaron sinks into the bed with you, his head just a touch higher than your own. "I'm really happy you're here," he says. 

"I'm happy too," you say, turning your face to his. Nervous, sure, but this is a milestone for your new relationship you're ecstatic to achieve. 

Even if he doesn't have any seductive intention tonight, you're eager to spend the night in his arms. He's older (impossible to ignore), more gentlemanly as a consequence, and during the course of your relationship there have been more important things than sex, like establishing trust with one another, and making sure that your relationship could withstand his constant working. 

"I'm really happy," you say, lifting your chin and fireworks erupt in your chest as he leans down to meet you, kissing you gently. 

"Is this…" His hand trails to the soft of your stomach, pink brushing your thigh where it's hiked. "Your usual nighttime attire?" 

"This is the wanting my boyfriend to like it attire," you confess, because he already knows. Aaron knows everything. He could tell you where you bought them if you gave him long enough.

"Consider them true to form," he says, hand sliding like a heavy, hot weight across your stomach and leaving a worse heat behind. "You look amazing." 

"Yeah?" you ask. 

His lips skin your cheek. He nudges you with his nose to encourage your head back and kisses softly under the line of your jaw, "They're a little small," he says, kissing between whispers, "the shorts." 

"They're not tight," you whisper in turn. 

His hand falls to your thigh, spreading your legs a terrible inch as he tugs at the hem of your shorts. His fingertips dip under them a millimetre as he agrees, "No, they're not. Your top, though…" 

"It was a matching set. I couldn't choose–" 

"Do you have many like it?" he asks, pulling away, meeting your eyes with a charge you've only seen a handful of times. You know exactly what it means, your chest aching with want as his hand comes to rest at the top of your thigh. 

"Sure. Two or three." 

"That won't do." 

You're nervous, but he's your boyfriend. You know more about him than he might think even if you don't know him intimately yet, and his arduousness makes you laugh. He's always been such a gentleman —not many men would ask you to be their girlfriend with a pearl necklace, or invite you to stay the night via text rather than at the end of a date. You'd expected your first time together to be a come up for coffee situation, but he's never propositioned you that way. The text was a sweet surprise, an addition. 

Would you like to stay over after dinner on Friday? Let me know. Can't wait to see you either way. 

No matter what you want, Aaron wants that too. 

You turn into his lap and catch his lips with yours, his hand encroaching on the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

His lips part under yours and you take his face into your hands, a giving in if there ever were one, hoping it says everything you're too shy to admit aloud. No matter how much he clearly likes the shorts, he abandons your thigh and hugs your back to him instead, your chests pressed together until yours is heaving for air. 

"You're usually more subtle than this," you tease, breathless, good-natured. 

"You aren't usually wearing this," he says, his usually smooth voice roughened, "I'm losing my mind." 

"Well, we can't have that." 

He leans back in, laughing against your lips. When his hand works its way under your camisole, you think about where you can get more pyjamas like these ones considering he likes them so badly, but then his hand crawls higher and the thought leaves your mind for the time being. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[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

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #manager!reader #fluff #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x reader

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Hurricane - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

a/n: I haven't written much angst before but I'm really trying to branch out a little bit. Inspired by Hurricane by Luke Combs, and also this weird recurring dream I keep having.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: buckle up bc there's a lot? angst (happy ending), parental death, depression, hurt, cancer, goose's accident + carole's reaction, carole literally never getting over losing goose, bradley being a commitmentphobe, pregnancy (i think that's it?), also entirely unrealistic bc you know what? I can't keep roo sad for long.

word count: 3.6k

taglist: @avengersfan25, @nouis-bum, @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @djs8891

Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind Baby, without warning I was doin' alright but just your sight Had my heart stormin'

Bradley narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses, the glare of the hot mid-morning sun harsh on his chocolate brown eyes. He grabbed his nine-iron from his golf bag, taking a practice swing before teeing up for his next shot. Bob, Jake, Reuben and Javy stood to the side behind him, watching as he lined up to take his shot. He hadn’t golfed in years, in fact, he’d only ever golfed a handful of times in his life, all of them back when he lived in Virginia. His uncle had taught him when he was 15, a welcome distraction when his mom became sick, and he’d gone out a few times when he was in college after a roommate of his on the school’s golf team had invited him out. He held his breath as he heard the club make contact with the small, white orb, watching as it soared through the air, disappearing somewhere onto the course. Jake let out an impressive whistle as he looked on, placing his hands on his hips as he shook his head in disbelief.

“You’ve never golfed before, Bradshaw? You sure?” He drawled, raising one of his manicured (though he’d deny it if asked) blonde eyebrows suspiciously.

“I told you, a handful of times. Not never.”

“You did say less than five,” Bob shrugged as he cleaned his glasses before replacing them on his nose. “Less than five suggests you haven’t really hit a course.”

“Not to mention you said in years. That was the swing of a man who’s at least hit a driving range a few times,” Reuben pointed out to the course in the general direction of where Bradley’s ball had landed as Javy, Bob and Jake nodded in agreement. 

“I wish Nat had tagged along, she wouldn’t ride my ass this hard,” Bradley huffed, shaking his head. 

“Nat doesn’t golf. You know that. She acted disgusted that I even asked,” Jake shrugged.

“Maybe it was how you asked,” Bob suggested as he disguised his jab at Jake as a helpful criticism.

 “Just take your turn, Robert,” Jake hissed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Bob smirked.

Bradley normally would have joined in with a quip of his own directed at Jake, but his heart just wasn’t in it. His heart wasn’t even in the game. The only reason why he’d agreed to go golfing with the guys for their usual monthly game was because you left him. He needed to get over you and move on - it’d been six months and with no deployments coming up, he had nothing to focus 100% of his attention onto. Reuben had noticed it first - Bradley was withdrawn on nights out, his usually chatterbox self now quiet, calm and keeping to himself, barely breaking eye contact with his beer bottle. Then came Natasha’s barrage of questions - he knew she meant well, but God, it was hard to listen to. 

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew why you left. And it was entirely his fault. You’d gotten upset because he’d stopped spending as much time with you, kept getting cold feet about committing to your relationship. He’d never tell you why he couldn’t commit - it was too hard for him to explain to anyone, really. In fact, he was fairly confident that Reuben was the only other person aware of it. 

Bradley wanted to be the partner you needed - he really did. He wanted to be the doting, affectionate boyfriend who’d whisk you off somewhere beautiful, propose to you, start a family with 2.2 kids and a dog, cart the kids around to sports practices on weekends - the American dream. He knew you deserved that much. And yet, no matter how badly he wanted to give that to you - he couldn’t. He’d told you he didn’t want it - he didn’t want to get married, he didn’t want to have kids, he never wanted it. He watched you fall apart the minute the words left his mouth, and it killed him inside. He wanted to hold you close and tell you he was making a mistake, tell you it wasn’t true and he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t, because he was terrified. 

Growing up without his dad was one of the hardest things he could have experienced, he was sure of it. He was too young to truly remember how his mom reacted when she learned her husband had been killed in a training exercise, but he remembered her crying a lot, feeling paralyzed by loss and guilt, angry with the world for taking the man she loved away from her. He remembered as he grew up, she never remarried, never went on a date, never even as much as looked at another man. His dad was her everything, and losing him crushed her. 

When she got sick, Bradley was a teenager - old enough to understand what it meant for her, what her odds of recovery were, and old enough to be realistic about the future. When they found out she wasn’t going to get better, he’d half expected her to react the way she did when his dad died, but instead, she seemed almost at peace with the idea. She’d spent 14 years of her life missing his dad, and she knew that, even though she was horrified by the thought of leaving Bradley on his own, she wouldn’t have to spend another minute missing her husband.

Bradley decided then that he’d never want to put someone through that. He’d never be able to hurt someone he loved like this - leave them widowed before they turned 30, alone with a toddler at home to raise on the opposite side of the country from their family and friends, with nothing but a military pension and an apology over his death. 

It was at 16 years old that Bradley decided, if he wanted to become a pilot, he was going to have to spend life alone, and for the most part, he was ok with that. 

That was, until he met you.

He tried to deny his feelings, pretending you were just a casual fling, some fun sex here and there between deployments and missions and nothing more. That was, until three months in, he accidentally told you he loved you. It wasn’t a lie, he did love you, but it caught him off guard when he said it - he didn’t mean to blow his cover and let his guard down like that. And when you said it back? He knew it was game over. 

He tried his hardest to push his fears aside, he tried SO hard. He was getting older and beginning to realize he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, especially as he neared the mandatory 20 years of service cutoff for aviators. He’d grown almost fond of the idea of settling down with you, seeing you with a ring on your finger, picturing you with a baby in you, his baby. He wanted it. He wanted all of it. But, the fears and anxiety he had reared its ugly head, and he couldn’t bring himself to get past it. 

It was on their last mission, when he had to eject and landed in the middle of a snowy mountain, unsure if he’d make it back home to you. His mind raced with thoughts of how you’d react if he didn’t make it home - how you’d crumple to the floor when you saw the two uniformed officers on your doorstep, the blood-curdling scream you’d let out in pain when you heard them say it, tears staining your pretty little face as you were handed that folded American flag - he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand the idea of putting you through everything his mom had gone through. Not when you were so young and had everything ahead of you. When you could find a man who wasn’t putting his life in danger nearly every damn day, risking himself and risking a chance he might not come home to you. 

This golf trip was meant to take his mind off you. Reuben had mentioned it in passing to Jake and Bob, who exchanged worried looks with one another. Javy had overheard Nat’s line of questioning when he and Mickey returned to the table with a fresh round of beers, both of them offering Bradley silent looks of sympathy as they nodded in agreement to Nat’s advice. Bradley was struggling, in over his head with emotions and regret and sadness, but he knew he’d fucked it all up. And he knew that even if he tried, you wouldn’t want him back, and who could blame you? 

Bob had suggested he reach out to you and apologize, and for a while, Bradley considered it. He strongly considered calling you, going to your house, begging for forgiveness and begging you to take him back, but after how you reacted when he broke things off with you, he wouldn’t even take him back. He’d been a dick in every sense of the word, and now, he had to try and move on, adjusting to life without you in it. 

The next nine holes passed by with little conversation from Bradley and worried glances exchanged between his friends. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, he’d explain, shrugging the concern off before focusing back on the game. Bradley was thankful for his friends’ efforts, but it was beginning to feel like nothing would help him move on. 

He slumped down into a chair at a table in the country club after their round of golf, sipping back the beer Jake bought him. He caught himself downing the liquid quicker than he should have, but at this point, being drunk would at least provide him with that much needed numbness he craved. He could hear Bob bickering with Jake over golf scores and who truly won, prompting an eye roll from Javy as he pulled the crumpled scoresheets from his pocket and placed them on the table. Reuben noticed the glazed over look in Bradley’s eye and clapped a sympathetic hand down on his shoulder. 

Bradley was about to thank Reuben for being there for him when he saw your face. You were walking into the country club with a couple of your friends, laughing and smiling as you spoke. 

God, he loved that smile. 

He gulped back the rest of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table, the sound of Bradley slamming the glass down a little harder than he intended prompting Jake to spin his head around as he saw you.

“Oh..shit,” he murmured as Bob and Javy both turned to look discreetly towards you.

Bradley’s eyes widened as you walked past the bar, revealing a very unexpected new figure. He blinked his eyes a few times to ensure they weren’t playing tricks on him - positive that this had to be some kind of optical illusion or something. It was impossible. You couldn’t be.

“Pregnant.” Jake whispered as he leaned into the table, “She’s pregnant,”

“Did you know, Bradley?” Bob inquired as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“N-no.” Bradley choked out, feeling the walls closing in around him as the room started to spin.

Without hesitation, Bradley rose from his seat and made his way over to you, despite the protests from Bob and Reuben, the two voices of reason to Javy and Jake’s voices of impulse. Bradley approached you cautiously, clearing his throat for a moment to garner your attention. You spun your head around, your cheeks rosy and your skin glowing with that pregnancy glow everyone always talked about. Bradley had never really believed in that kind of stuff, but you were proving him wrong. 

“Bradley?” you asked, your face paleing to a shade of ghostly white. 

“Can…can we talk, please? I need to talk to you,” Bradley rambled with desperation written on his face.

You huffed a sigh, nodding your head slowly as you excused yourself from your friends, who were now whispering and exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another. Bradley followed closely behind you as you stepped out into the fresh air, finding a discreet corner of the parking lot to discuss everything from the last six months. 

“I…Is it mine?” Bradley whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer as his eyes wandered to the bump that was evident under your sundress.

You sighed again, following Bradley’s gaze down to your abdomen, a protective hand resting on your bump as you nodded slowly, humming in confirmation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned, shaking his head quickly, “I-I, I would have helped you.”

“Bradley,” you said, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head quickly, “You told me you didn’t want this. You dumped me and told me you never wanted to settle down or have a family, you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and being in a long-term relationship wasn’t what you ever wanted. You told me you didn’t love me. So please, tell me why I should have told you?”

“Because,” he said softly, his heart aching as he heard your side of things, “I didn’t mean any of that. I was wrong.”

“Oh, you were wrong? Tell me, were you always wrong, or are you only wrong now that you’ve seen me six months later, heavily pregnant?” 

Bradley was speechless. He gazed down at his feet, kicking at the pavement in his golf cleats. He sighed as he thought for a moment, taking a second of quiet reflection to compose his thoughts before speaking. He wanted to get this right. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up again.

“I was always wrong. I was wrong when I said it, and I knew I was wrong,” he shook his head vigorously before looking up to meet your gaze, “Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

“You told me she died when you were a teenager, and you didn’t really mention anything else about her. Or anyone in your family, for that matter.”

“Right,” he nodded his head slowly, taking a deep breath before beginning to explain. “My dad died when I was 2. He was an RIO, a Radar Intercept Officer. You know Maverick, right?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded slowly, a look of annoyance flashing across your face as you listened to Bradley, you were used to his excuses, and you were really hoping this wasn’t another one. 

“So, Maverick was my dad’s pilot. Best friends. Did everything together. He was flying when my dad died, their plane lost control, had to eject, my dad hit the canopy. Died instantly.” Bradley paused, taking another deep breath as he felt himself getting choked up, “My mom, she, uh, she was really young. My dad was 25, my mom was 23. He was her high school sweetheart. She was devastated. I was too young to remember a lot, but I remember her hurting, and being sad all the time, unable to function some days because she just missed him so much,” he explained as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“Bradley, I’m sorry,” you sighed, shaking your head as you sympathetically rubbed his bicep to comfort him.

“I just…when she died, she was…peaceful, I guess, because she knew she wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. She wouldn’t be lonely. She never remarried or dated after him, she couldn’t bring herself to. She’s buried with her wedding ring still on her finger. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off her,” he took another deep breath, exhaling sharply before looking up at you. 

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he finally said, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over again, “I couldn’t leave you like my mom. Heartbroken and alone your whole life. She never moved on, and I didn’t want that for you if we got married. God, I would have given anything to marry you. I would have taken you to the courthouse and married you on the spot if you would have agreed to it. But, I couldn’t risk breaking your heart. Not like that.”

“Bradley, you’ve always come home in one piece,” you said softly, fingers still stroking his upper arm soothingly.

“But I almost didn’t. I had to eject and all I could think about was you getting that knock at the door and going through what she went through, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you, or…or to a baby.”

You shook your head, processing everything that Bradley had just said as he poured his heart out to you. He’d never opened up like this to you before, but you could tell each and every word was genuine. As much as you hated him for leaving you, you couldn’t deny that you still loved him with all of your heart. 

You missed him. 

You missed waking up to him after the two of you had fallen asleep watching a movie together. You missed the way he yelled at the tv when watching baseball, how passionate he got over football games, how he’d pick the olives out of his nachos like a toddler and put them on your plate. You missed how he couldn’t eat apples unless they were baked in a pie, how he’d scarf down an entire red velvet cake if you didn’t gently stop him, then regret it hours later. You missed the way his big brown eyes would stare at you, a look of pure adoration on his face like a lovesick puppy whenever you spoke to someone else, as if he was hanging on every single word that fell from your lips.

You burst into tears, throwing your arms tightly around Bradley as you shook your head. “God, you’re an idiot, you know that?” you murmured, laughing softly as you hugged him.

“I know, I’m the biggest idiot. I still would marry you if you let me. I wanted to have kids with you, I want to be around for this one,” he nodded, gesturing his hands at your bump. 

“Really?”

“Cross my heart,” Bradley said with an expression of complete seriousness on his face, “I wanna know everything about them. Everything. I wanna know what you’re having, what name you’ve picked out, what your cravings are, how you’ve been feeling, when they move, what does it feel like? I want to know how far along you are, and how they’re doing, if they have my nose or your nose, or if they’re gonna be tall like I am, I want to know what helps you sleep at night when you’re pregnant, and what their favourite song is. I want all of it, honey.”

“Ok, ok, slow down, breathe, Bradley,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Take a walk with me?”

As you and Bradley walked around the pedestrian pathway on the golf course, smiling as you spoke fondly about the baby, answering all of Bradley’s questions. 

“Well, baby’s a girl, I don’t have a name in mind for her yet, I’ve been craving oranges and Sprite, anything sweet and citrusy. I’ve been ok, better now the morning sickness finally dissipated. It feels like bubbles or something when she kicks, it’s like a fluttering, almost? I’m 28 weeks along, so I have about three months left. She looked like she has your nose on the ultrasound, there’s a 50/50 chance on her height, I sleep pretty much sitting upright because I get bad heartburn otherwise, and I play her music all the time. She likes Elvis and The Beach Boys, just like her dad.” 

Bradley’s smile spread wide across his face, a small laugh of disbelief escaping his mouth as he nodded along with your words.

“That’s great. A girl? Really? You’re gonna have a daughter running around,” he said softly, almost as if he was daydreaming about what the little girl would look like.

“We are going to have a daughter.”

“You’re gonna let me be there? After everything?”

“Bradley, as much as I hated you for what you did and how you ended things - I never truly hated you. I loved you, more than anything. I still do.”

He held you tightly, burying his face into your hair as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring softly against your hair. 

“God, I love you so much, honey. I promise, I’m never going to do something stupid like that again.”

“I know you won’t,” you laughed, shaking your head as he looked down at you, “I know you’d never leave Carly and I again.”

Bradley froze in place for a moment as he stared at you, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. 

“What did you call her?”

“Carly. I thought, I don’t know, after you told me about your mom just now, I thought maybe you’d like to name the baby after her? Carole’s nice too, I just figured Carly gives her a name that’s her own too, they share the same root.”

“Carly,” he nodded slowly as he repeated it, “I love it.”

Bradley took your hand in his, his large fingers enveloping your hand as he held it tightly, as if he was terrified of letting go. He made that mistake once before, he wasn’t about to do it again. 

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster fic #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster top gun x reader #rooster top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster fanfic #rooster fanfiction #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x y/n #rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n

[celestialwhoree]

Can we please get realistic hc’s of Cpt.Price ? Dont get me wrong I love the delulu headcanons but if we are being fr these are military men 😭

I actually feel surprisingly qualified to write this? One of my dad's friends was in the SAS, and although he didn't talk much about work (for obvious reasons) he was a really interesting guy.

Firstly, this man drinks like a fish. Will go to the pub with his squamates and return absolutely smashed.

He's away more than he's home, too. Often goes weeks at a time with minimal, if any at all, contact. If he does get the chance to message, it'll be a simple "I'm okay, love you." or "Doing well out here." to put his partner's mind at ease. If he can even manage to get a secure line of communication.

I hope by now that we've all dropped the marble sculpted, washboard abs idea - because no. He eats a lot. He'll clean out a fully stocked fridge in three days, tops.

Realistically, he wants kids, but the dangers of his job are an ever lingering threat, and the thought of leaving his partner as a single parent mortifies him.

He makes a reasonable amount of money in his job, but most of it gets stowed away in a savings account or retirement fund, he's not the type to splash cash on anything that catches his eye.

Yes, he and the 141 are close colleagues, but they spend pretty much all of their time together, when they go their separate ways on leave, he wants to see his friends and family.

He's seen ugly, messed up shit. Killed people. He doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to relive it.

He knows he's not a good person in any traditional means, but he's doing what he does best, and what most would never be brave nor strong enough to try.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #captain John price #John price #captain price #price #captain price x f!reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x y/n #price x f!reader #call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #tf 141 #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #john price cod #John price smut #john price x you #celestialwhoree #price headcanons #john price headcanons #captain price headcanons #Angies asks!

[slvttyplum]

ʚɞ Locked in | Nanami Kento

Synopsis: Things get steamy when you and your coworker Nanami get stuck in the office.

Contents: Brat taming, smut, just steamy smut.

This was a collaboration with @shrimparmy

The last thing you wanted to do was spend Friday night at the office, but here you are. 

Your team packed up and hauled off half an hour ago, leaving you and Nanami Kento to wrap up the finishing touches on a project that would be due come Monday. As co-leads of your department, the responsibility fell on you both to ensure everything was ready for the big launch. 

In most cases, it would be an annoyance, sure, but your current situation was much worse. Nanami Kento was the reason for your migraines. He had his own way of doing things that coincidentally always clashed with yours. And the most irksome thing? He was usually right.

You push away from the table and rub your tired eyes. Blinking once, then twice, you scan the laptop screen incredulously. 

“Nanami…”, you alert the blond man sitting across from you, making him startle from his intense focus on a stack of files. “I think we’re finally done”.

“You submitted the final documents?”, he asks with his brow raised, certainly in disbelief of your claim.

You nod.

“The test run was clean?”

You nod. 

“You—“

“Yes!”, you huff. “The docs, the test run, the protocols, the models—everything, Nanami. It’s all there”.

He silently nods, then removes his glasses to clean them. 

You frown, “Not even a ‘thank you’?”

“What exactly should I be thanking you for?”

The nerve of him. The project would have both of your necks on the line, and for once—just this once—you felt Nanami and you were making progress. Through the work of sheer luck, you’d gotten on well enough to finish the project without a hitch. 

You swore it was thanks to your hard work. 

Nanami said it was all his doing.

“Would it kill you to admit I’m good at my job, Nanami?”, you cross your arms over your chest only to catch Nanami glancing at the cleavage peeking out from under the undone top button of your blouse.

He flicks his eyes up to yours, casually, smoothly enough that you question if he was really checking you out. But you know. Because it wasn’t the first time you caught Nanami Kento’s lingering stare. 

His eyes grazed your legs when you crossed them, feeling fidgety and restless during long meetings. He watched how you bit the tip of your pen while deep in thought, smudging the plastic with your lipstick, and he wanted desperately to see those pretty lips around something else. If you had eyes on the back of your head, you’d see him staring at your curvy ass in the tight pencil skirt you wore last week while you presented the pitch for your next project. 

“I suppose the work you do is sufficient for your role”, he says finally.

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Sufficient? Really? That’s it?”

“You possess the skills necessary…”

“Great”, you spit out the word like something bitter and close your laptop. “I’m going home and you, Nanami Kento, can go to hell”. 

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you stomp to the frosted glass door of the conference room and—

—it won’t budge. You try again, forcefully this time, to pull down the cold metal handle, but it’s stuck. Prying it up doesn’t work, wiggling it doesn’t work, nothing seems to work and your nerves are wearing thin.

“God damnit!”, you growl and stamp your foot. So much for your dramatic exit and snarky one-liner. “Nanami, help me open this fucking door”.

For a second he hesitates, briefly thinking of a smart-assed retort about being too busy going to hell and all, but remains quiet and walks over to you. 

With force, Nanami attempts to open the door. The veins in his hands and arms begin to bulge under his skin, and his jaw tenses more with each pull of the handle. The metal frame begin to creak, so you stop him before the two of you end up having to explain to your boss why the conference room door is lying on the floor off its hinges. 

“Nanami”, you set a hand on his arm. Touching him for the first time ever feels foreign and decidedly intrusive, but not at all wrong. “It’s no use… it’s jammed”.

You shrug and try to lighten the mood, “It’s no big deal, right? The custodians will breeze through any minute, I’m sure”.

Nanami smoothes back the strands of blond that have fallen forward and frame his angular face. “I’m afraid not. Custodial doesn’t come until tomorrow morning”.

***

You both look down at the same time to where your hand rests on his arm, on the space where his sleeves are rolled up so his muscular forearms are exposed. God, you really hate when he does that. Whenever he loosens his tie or rolls up his sleeves and all your attention is drawn to his neck and his arms and you feel that warmth spreading through your thighs, that pulse that beats against your core, against your will. 

You blurt out “Sorry”, a bit more abruptly than you intended, making Nanami smirk. 

Your usual spit-fire temper seemed to dwindle by the second in the midst of this dilemma. Perceptive as usual, Nanami took note of the blush creeping across your cheeks. 

“You and I could get along, you know. If it wasn’t for your attitude”. The off-handed manner that he says it makes your blood boil, with the same cool confidence you always saw in the office. 

“You think you know me, but don’t know shit, Nanami”.

As much as you loathed to admit it, his authoritative demeanor did something to you. Nanami was the boss for a reason; he talked and people listened. He directed and they obeyed. 

“Personally, no, I don’t know you. But I know the signs…”, Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his full lips drew into a calculated smirk, “of someone who needs to be taught a lesson”.

Your mouth going dry and your breath hitching, your mind going blank as you step back and your ass hits the desk. Nanami puts his hand on your hip and leans down closer to your ear. 

“You have five seconds to tell me to stop, otherwise…” Nanami doesn’t finish his sentence and leans down further and whispers something inaudible before pressing his soft lips against yours. 

The action takes you a second to get adjusted to but you still decided to kiss him back, for some reason it didn’t make you feel disgusted. His lips moving with yours in sync and his cologne and minty breath filling your nose making your eyes flutter close. 

Nanami’s other hand come up to your hips then both of them going down then back up to grab your ass. His mouth sloppily going down to kiss your jaw then your bare neck. 

His lips and tongue sending shivers down your spine, your hands coming up to grab his shoulders, and his hands going to scoop your ass then down the back of your thighs picking you up. 

“You taste so good. I need more of you.” He says, his voice low. He licks one last stripe on your neck before placing you on the desk and getting on his knees, close enough to your core that you can feel his warm breath.

Nanami lifts up your skirt and reaches up to the hem of your panties and quickly pulls them down, not caring enough to fully pull them off so they’re left to hang around your ankle. 

A little bit of sense is left in you when you slap his hand away and gulp, clenching your legs closed. His eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in behavior. 

“What? Talk to me.” He puts his arms on both sides of you, pushing against you so you feel the bulge pushing out of his pants rubbing against your thigh. 

Indignantly, you cross your arms. “This isn’t right, so just stop.” 

Nanami scoffs, gripping the bottom of the desk and licks the bottom of his lip briefly. “You want this, let’s not play childish games.” 

And with that, everything fell through.

His hands reaching up to your thighs and gripping your flesh as he spreads them before leaning in and placing a stripe down your wet aching core. 

The sensation sent full tingles erupting throughout you, it felt like someone put numbing cream all around your body; the way his warm saliva came into contact with your skin made your eyes roll back.

His fingertips digging into your thigh as his tongue slips between your folds a couple of times before he licks your clit. A moan slipping out of your mouth and your hand rising up then down to grab onto his hair. 

Little hums coming out of Nanami’s mouth as he continues to lick and slurp on your now dripping core. He could not get enough, the way your cunt reacted every time he licked made his pants tighten. 

He removes his hands from your thighs, puts them up to your core and takes one finger from each hand to spread out your folds and takes one big stripe. 

“Fuck…” Is all that came out of your mouth and other hushed moans as he continues to lick. There was something so sweet about how you tasted, he could devour you for hours, but he wanted something more from you.

Your knees try to collide but it’s impossible when you feel this good. Nanami removes his finger from holding open your folds and slowly slides his middle finger inside of your tight entrance. 

“Wait, wait”, you pant, but Nanami doesn’t listen and continues to push his thick finger inside of your wet pussy. Your walls clenching and pulsing around him, his finger slowly slides back out before fully pushing it inside of you again. 

Another moan slides past your lips and your head is thrown back from the overwhelming amount of pleasure being put on you. You moan up toward the ugly drop-ceiling dotted with the buzzing fluorescent lights as he pumps his finger inside of you, and the realization that Nanami is eating your pussy right in the office hits you like a truck. But it matters less and less because you’re only getting wetter and needier when he slides another finger inside of you and slowly licks your clit with broad strokes of his tongue.

A large lump forms in your throat from the moans you were holding in, making it feel like you were going to burst any minute—and you were right, you were going to burst—but not in the way you thought. 

His fingers continuously pump in and out of you with great speed as you try not to shake or collapse from how good you feel. One final moan and you let out a series of whimpers and your eyes squeeze shut. 

Nanami rises from his kneeling position at your dripping pussy and before you could even say anything, he pulls your arm and snatches you off the desk to bend you over. 

You’re still in a state of high from finishing, but you realize what he’s doing and you let him. More than anything, you need him inside you and by the way he’s pushing your legs apart with his and holding the small of your back down with his large hands, you know he wants it just as much. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this… for so long.” He’s practically panting by now, breath heavy and laced with arousal. “… been wanting to give you what you need”.

“Please, Nanami”

And with that Nanami quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants along with his briefs. His dick springs out and he puts a hand on your ass, giving it a grip then another on the base of his dick. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” You can almost hear the self-satisfied smirk in his words. 

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slowly slides himself in. A long drawn out moan escapes his mouth and the same for yours. He’s pumping so slow, so sweetly at first, rewarding you with the his cock filling the space within you so perfectly. Your hands grip the desk as he slides out of you again then back into you again forcefully. 

Nanami places his other hand on your other cheek and sinks his fingers into the supple flesh as his pace gets faster, little murmurs and moans sliding past his lips. 

He couldn’t comprehend how good he felt, his body was heating up each second and his heart was beating outside his chest. If he didn’t want to cum right that second then he had to hold himself back. 

With that he takes his hand off your ass and quickly unbuttons his shirt the best he could with one hand to cool down, exposing his chiseled chest and tight abs that flex every time he sinks his girth into you. He never stops or turns sloppy, his pace is steady and the tip of his dick presses against your sweet spot every time. 

The sound of your flesh colliding with his makes your head fuzzy. It’s almost as if it were a dream—surely not something that could be happening in real life, but every time he shoves his dick into you, every time your pussy makes wet sounds for him, you’re brought right back to reality. 

The way your hands grip the desk, you could feel them going numb. Your knees buckling and your mind hazing out, it was like you were on the edge of a cliff about to go sky diving, high off so much adrenaline that you’d do anything.

“You like it, tell me you like it.” There was no question in his tone, more of a statement he was letting you know, because he fucking loved it. 

He loves how your wet pussy slides on his hard length with ease and every time he slams into you, your walls clamp around him and the way your ass ripples whenever he pushes you into the desk; it was perfect. 

At the height of it all, drunk off the pleasure being fucked into you, you start fucking him back and try to move yourself on his length but your climax sends your knees buckling. Nanami takes notice and places a firm grip on your hip, holding you in case your legs give out. 

“I love it.” Your words drip out like honey and with that Nanami throws his head back, incapable of holding back a second more. You’re right there with him, eyes squinting shut while the curses leaving his lips bless your ears like a sermon.

Quickly sliding out of you and slotting his shaft between the soft, supple cheeks of your ass, his body convulses against you at the same moment his warm liquid oozes past his tip and into the arch in your back. 

“I love you.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #jujutsu kento #jjk kento #kento smut #kento x reader

[deantfwinchester]

Late Nights

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, back on my Joel x Teacher!Reader shit (though her work hardly plays a role in this), established relationship

Summary: Getting home late is an unfortunately common occurrence in Joel’s line of work. When you both have busy days, it can be hard to find time to share, but you make do.

Warnings: extreme fluff, just utterly fucking saccharine at this point, is fluff without plot a tag?

——————

It’s Wednesday night. Joel’s night to cook dinner.

You get home earlier every day, no question. But since you like to take most every night during the summer months, he insisted on a 60/40 split during the school year. Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays are his. You had Tuesdays and Thursdays. Friday & Saturday are mainly for pizza, take out, or date-nights.

When he’d grill on Sunday afternoons, you liked to try and help him with prep, but he’d just pour you a glass of wine or mix you a drink and try to usher you out of the kitchen. You’d always sit and talk with him while he worked anyway. Sarah too, when she wasn’t working on homework or out with friends. It’s one of his favorite parts of the week.

On the nights he’d come home late, though, he always worried about leaving you to it. He was meant to be home cooking for the three of you while you relaxed, tried to let the stress of the school day roll off your back. He loved giving you that time.

This particular night, when six o’clock rolled around and he realized he still had a good hour or more on the site, he knew he needed to let you know he wouldn’t be timely with his return. Didn’t want you to worry.

You’re on the couch, grading. By this time of night, Joel’s normally taken the work from your hands and pulled your attention toward anything else. Noticing the room darkening, you wonder where he is, just as your phone dings:

Wednesday, October 7, 6:03 PM:

Sorry baby, gonna be later than I hoped tonight. Y’all don’t wait on me, okay?

Supposed to be my night too, dammit. I apologize, sweetheart.

You’d told him till you were blue in the face he didn’t need to apologize to you when he was the one having to work until long after dark. It never took.

You responded quickly, knowing his phone would be back in his pocket and forgotten again soon when his attention turned again to the work and his team.

Wednesday, October 7, 6:04 PM: (Outgoing)

Dont worry about it, sweetie. i promise i can handle dinner, just don’t work too hard and get home when you can ❤️

And take a break and drink some water, will ya? if that bottle ain’t empty yet, you haven’t had enough! see you soon, love.

He’d be dead on his feet when he walked through the door, that much you knew. And he’d have no business rifling around in the kitchen for something random he’d throw together, not substantial enough by far for a day of working like he’d been. You hopped up and started to the kitchen, determined to make a hearty meal for you and Sarah to share now, and to ensure Joel had a real meal when he finally made it home for the night.

————

A couple of hours had passed by the time Joel finally walked through the door. You’re back on the couch, this time reading a book while the lights from the tv danced softly in the dimly lit room, with a bare haze of sound playing at low volume.

It was nearly 8:30 when you heard the key turning in the door. Sarah had retired to her room for the night after dinner. She’d tried to help you clean the dishes, but you’d ushered her off to relax after spending most of the afternoon doing homework.

Joel trudges wearily through the door, shoulders slouched and eyes heavy-lidded when he thinks you can’t see him. The second he lays eyes on you, though, his posture straightens and his expression brightens, eyes opening a bit more as he lifts into a smile. Your expression mirrors his, and you sit up, closing your book and rising to meet him halfway. You practically speak over each other in greeting:

“Hi darlin’, how was your day?” he says.

“Hey honey, how’d it go today?” you ask.

You laugh a bit when you realize you’re asking the same question on top of each other, and he pulls you close, arms resting heavily around your waist. You drape yours around his neck as he leans down to kiss you. When you pull away to look at his face, you see past the tired smile he wears to the exhaustion etched in his face, settled in his drooping eyes.

You move one hand up, fiddling gently with the strands of hair at the back of his head. You smile and put light pressure on the base of his neck with your other hand, moving his head down to rest on your shoulder. He catches on instantly, and settles comfortably where you direct him. He nuzzles into the nape of your neck and you feel his eyes close against your collarbone, his warm fatigued breaths rhythmically grazing your chest.

You continue playing with his hair with one hand, while the other remains resting on the back of his neck. You turn your head to place a soft kiss to his temple and, after a moment of restful silence, quietly speak:

“You’re tired, huh? I missed you today.”

“Missed you too, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tightening his grip around your waist, and snuggling closer.

“You gotta be hungry. Got a plate waitin’ for ya in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?” you ask him, moving your hand down his neck to rub gently against his back. He breathes deeply in contentment at your comforting touch.

“No, I’m never leaving this spot. I live here now,” he says, and you feel the rumble of his voice against your chest. You chuckle lightly and speed up your ministrations, applying a bit more pressure as you discover the tightness of the muscles in his back.

“Mhm. And when was the last time you ate? Or drank anything for that matter?” you ask knowingly.

“Uhhhh, i guess it was, arou-“ he cuts himself off with a yawn, “around lunch time? Maybe one? Did finish that bottle like you asked, though,” and he smacks his lips lazily, somehow nuzzling further into your shoulder.

“Good, thank you. But lunch was seven hours ago now, so you need to eat something. Wanna start there? Or shower first?” you ask, chuckling a bit.

He raises his head a bit and squints at you, frowning playfully. “You sayin’ I smell, darlin’?” he mumbles, laughing into your shoulder.

You giggle in response before elaborating: “I’m saying you’re sweaty and would feel better if you rinsed the day off before crawling into bed.”

He sighs and rasps into your neck, “you changed the sheets didn’t you?” you feel a smile form against your chest.

“Sure did. So it’s food, shower, and bedtime. You can pick the order. Which first? Want me to grab your dinner?” you ask.

He sighs deeper this time, “What’s that thing about objects in motion and objects at rest or somethin’? Gonna keep doing whatever they already got goin’ on?”

You rumble a little laugh in return before responding. “I see. C’mon Newton, let’s keep ya moving. Go hop in the shower while I get your dinner ready.” You say, patting his cheek as he raises his head with a little groan.

You catch his eyes with your own and let your hand rest on his cheek. You move a thumb beneath his chin and pull him to you, giving him one last peck before ushering him down the hall. You pull his plate from the fridge and get to work on reheating his meal.

——————

He emerges less than ten minutes later smelling fresh and dressed in a clean t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants, padding into the kitchen just as you’re filling a glass of water to place next to his warmed plate. He rubs a fist into one eye, yawning again, and plops into a chair at the kitchen table.

You approach behind him, placing the glass on the table with one hand and rubbing his shoulder with the other. He lifts a hand to grab yours and squeeze as he takes a sip. His eyes reach up to meet your own.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, sweetheart. It was my night anyway, and now you’ve cooked and even put the damn plate in front of me,” he huffs.

“You don’t need to thank me, love” you respond, leaning down to kiss him again before taking the seat next to him with the glass of wine you’d poured to sip while you sat with him. You reach for his left hand where it rests on the table, and gently squeeze. He wraps his fingers around yours before you can retreat. Your fingers remain intertwined for the duration of the meal.

The two of you discussed the highlights of your respective days - roses and thorns, both too sleepy to bother with buds. When Joel finishes, you grab his plate to wash, but he takes it from you.

“No way are you washing my dishes too, honey. You’ve done enough already tonight,” he tries to insist. You’re not having it.

“Will you just let me take care of you, dummy? You’re bone tired, I can see it in those beautiful brown eyes. Here. How about this?” you rinse the plate and utensils, shove them quickly in the dishwasher, close it emphatically, and raise your empty hands.

He rolls his eyes, but relents with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever you say, darlin’,” he responds smiling, a bit bashful from the care and compliment.

“Good. Now c’mon, bedtime.” you say, taking his hand in yours once again and leading him to the bedroom.

“Whatever you want, baby” he grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You can’t help bellow a hearty laugh at that one.

“Jesus, like you could keep your eyes open, Miller,” you respond, as you pull the covers back and lead him onto the bed next to you. You settle back against the headboard and open your arms up, beckoning him into your lap. He shuffles closer and leans into your embrace.

“It was-“ he pauses, only to finish through a yawn “- worth a shot.” You chuckle quietly as he rests his head in your lap, eyes instantly slipping closed.

You turn on the tv, keeping the volume low. It’s only a little after 9, so still early for you to fall asleep. You would read, but you’d rather turn off the light, hoping the dimness in the room helps him get some good rest.

You lay one hand on his back and the other in his hair, both softly rubbing in comforting circles, and you feel him melt further into you. A familiar warmth fills your chest at the sight of him there, resting peacefully in your lap. You lean down and press one last kiss to his head before whispering to him.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“G’night, darlin’” he rumbles, muffled into your lap. You smile, one hand still on his back as the other reaches up, flicking off the lamp, before returning it to his hair. Your fingers gently massage his scalp, and within minutes, you hear his soft snores.

#call the fucking dentist bby #ur gonna get cavities fr #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo

[osachiyo]

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐

· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread

· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘���𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩

dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.

instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.

but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.

in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.

"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.

for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.

your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.

though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.

considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.

though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.

and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.

"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.

"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."

after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."

"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."

fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.

and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.

taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.

fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.

"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.

these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

#౨ৎ — archive・ #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x reader fluff #dazai x reader #dazai x reader fluff #dazai fluff #chuuya x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader fluff #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor x reader fluff #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcannons #bungo stray dogs headcanons

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 4 Prompt: Baking 🍰 ~ 1,700 words you bake some cupcakes for your handsome older neighbor, Eddie. (implied age gap, intentionally vague)

You wipe sweat off your brow with the back of your hand, leaving a smear of frosting on your forehead. 

This process has taken up more of your day than you expected it to, but you’ll spend as much time as necessary to get this right, because it’s for Eddie Munson.

Your handsome older neighbor has been occupying an alarming amount of space in your mind lately. It’s a recent development; you’d been moved into the new house for quite some time before you actually met him. He seemed to keep odd hours, and you only ran into him by chance one day, when you were both walking to the corner store up the road.

At first glance he was intimidating, with his long hair and all his leather, but he chatted with you easily during the whole impromptu excursion. Once inside the market he quickly bought his pack of cigarettes and then insisted on staying with you, so he could escort you back home, too.

He dragged on a Lucky Strike as he strolled down the sidewalk, his pretty face silhouetted against the setting sun in the distance, and you couldn’t look away. He left you at your door with a cheeky grin and a “Good to finally meet you. ‘Night, little lady.”

If those words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, you’re not sure what your reaction would have been. But spoken by Eddie? Your knees had gone weak.

Since then he seemed to be popping up more and more frequently. Every time you happened to glance out the window he was there. Sprawled out in a wicker chair on his porch, a paperback held flat against his knee; peering under the hood of his car, tinkering away on the engine; he even stopped by a few times when the weather got cold, offering to shovel the snow from your driveway and scrape the ice off your windshield, each time armed with a charming smile and a twinkle in his eye.

The self-indulgent part of you wants to believe it’s because he likes you, and so he’s making an effort for you to see him; the more rational part of you knows you’re seeing him now because you want to see him.

Regardless, you were thinking that you wanted to do something nice for him. Some neighborly gesture that’ll give him some indication of your interest, without requiring you to be too forward. You just hope that he’ll pick up on what you’re putting down.

The kitchen table is a mess of baking utensils and splatters of cake batter, but you’re pleased with the results. Six red velvet cupcakes iced — and filled — with cream cheese frosting and pink sprinkles are all neatly arranged on a platter, just waiting to be carried over to Eddie’s house. The heart-patterned liners feel appropriate but also a tad cheesy, maybe even overkill; but if he seems weirded out by the whole thing, you’ll just tell him they’re leftover from a batch you planned on taking to work.

You lose the apron and wash your hands in the sink, then skip to the bathroom to give yourself a final once over. You clean the frosting off your face, and fix your hair nervously with your fingers. Quit stalling.

You slip a coat on, and keep your hands as steady as possible as you carry the platter cautiously outside. Small, quick steps lead you to Eddie’s doorstep, and you balance the edge of the tray against your hip so you can rap your knuckles on the door.

The seconds tick by, and the door finally swings open. Eddie’s in black sweats and an Iron Maiden t-shirt, hair looking wild and disheveled; his eyes look puffy with sleep, but they light up when he realizes who he’s looking at.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, voice husky from his afternoon nap. “What can I do for ya?”

“Hi,” you respond, soft and breathy with nerves. Your mouth opens to continue and then snaps shut again, a realization of horror creeping upon you: the lines you’ve been practicing in your head all day have evaporated into nothing. Poof! They’re gone, and now you’re standing here like an idiot. 

Eddie stares at you curiously. You thrust the tray forward clumsily, any illusion of poise shattered. “These are for you!”

He looks startled. “Those are for me?” he repeats, like maybe he misheard you. 

You nod.

Now he’s the one at a loss for words. “Thank you,” he says automatically, gazing down at the dessert-laden plate clutched between your hands. He shakes his head as though trying to clear it, and steps back inside the house, gesturing for you to enter. “Here, come inside. You’re not gonna have me eat these all by myself now, are you?”

You suck in a quick breath and scurry over the threshold, entering Eddie’s home for the first time. It’s a little messy but surprisingly cozy, with a squashy-looking furniture set and knick knacks on every flat surface. Music posters hang in black frames along the walls, showcasing a lot of long-haired men who, quite frankly, all look sort of the same to you, although they’re apparently all different bands.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch, “and I’ll get us some napkins.” You gingerly perch yourself on the soft leather cushion, while he disappears further back into the house, presumably into the kitchen. When he returns he plops down in the seat next to you, taking the platter and setting it down on the coffee table with a pile of napkins. Then he stifles a yawn as he slumps back into the couch.

You feel bad. “Were you asleep? I’m so sorry if I woke you up.”

He waves you off. “Don’t worry, my alarm went off a few minutes ago. If I don’t set one when I nap, I’ll sleep the whole day away. These old bones are tired, you know,” he jokes. 

You shake your head in disagreement. “You’re not old.”

He pokes your shoulder. “I’m old next to you.”

You try to laugh but there’s a pang in your heart. Is he trying to tell me something? You wring your hands, and don’t reply.

Eddie peers at you with a gentle smile on his lips, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners. “Did you make these yourself?”

“I did indeed.”

“They look amazing.” He picks one up and takes a large bite, the frosting smearing clean up his nose. You giggle through a bite of your own dessert.

“What?” he says thickly, giving you a deadpan stare. “Something on my face?”

Hesitantly, you reach out with your napkin, wiping the sugary cream from his nose and upper lip. He scrunches his face but pushes into your hand, letting you clean him up. A thrill shoots through you at being able to touch him, even if it’s through a paper barrier.

“Thanks, sweetheart. These are incredible, by the way. Thank you for bringing them.”

“Of course.”

He clears his throat, and sets his cupcake down on the table so he can give you his full attention. “If you don’t mind me asking, um…why did you bring them?”

You’re answer evasively, still unsure of how he sees you. “Because I thought you’d like them.”

He gives you that penetrating stare again, and it’s like you’re being swallowed up in those dark irises. You feel as though he must see right through you, all your intentions laid bare. 

“Thank you for thinking of me. You’re real sweet for that.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do you do this for all your neighbors?”

“No. But my other neighbors don’t walk me home from the corner store and shovel my sidewalk.” 

He purses his lips, as though he’s deep in thought, although still half-teasing you. “I see. So these cupcakes are purely transactional?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s not really giving anything away, and this game is too hard for you to keep playing. “Well, no. I also…just wanted to do something nice for you. To make you happy.”

His face is impassive. “Rest assured, you’ve certainly done that.” He leans in closer to you, hand rubbing his chin pensively. “But you know what would make me even happier?”

You hold your breath. “What’s that?”

“If you stayed for dinner.”

Your heart leaps with joy. “You mean it?”

“Yes.” His warm expression suddenly flickers with worry. “But only if you really want to.”

“I really want to, Eddie.”

There’s a brief silence, and the energy in the room shifts. Eddie lets his hand wander over to your knee, gazing at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “I like it when you say my name,” he whispers, staring unabashedly at your lips.

Feeling both validated and bold, you close the distance separating the two of you. “I’ll just bet,” you whisper, letting your smiling lips ghost over his with every word.

Strong, tattooed hands hold both sides of your face as Eddie finally seals his mouth to yours in a kiss. It starts out firm but gentle, and you sigh; his tongue slips in between your parted lips, sugary-sweet, and you press your body closer to his. He moves to embrace you tightly, winding one arm around your waist, and cupping the back of your head with his other hand, his kisses becoming deeper and more frantic. 

He suddenly breaks away, gasping. 

“Everything okay?” you ask dazedly, not finished with him. 

He laughs. “Everything’s perfect,” he reassures you. “I’ve been hoping this would happen. But I want you to know, regardless of what happens in the next few minutes, I really do want to cook for you.”

You melt, fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck. “You’re a really nice guy, you know that?”

He brushes your kiss-swollen bottom lip with a calloused thumb. “I’m glad you think so.”

His tone confuses you. “Others don’t?”

“I have a certain look.”

“I like how you look.”

He presses another quick kiss to your lips. “You’re a sweet girl,” he says quietly, echoing his statement from earlier. 

You fall back into him, and although it’s several hours later, Eddie makes good on his promise. Over dinner, he poses the question again, “You know what would make me even happier?”

You bite, fingers intertwined with his. “What would make you even happier?”

“If you just stayed.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader