#Lifted Toy Trucks

[yuthana]

Vintage retro car litho tin. Forklift truck N-512 Japan tin friction powered. Usagiya brand. made in Japan 60s.

https://www.ebay.com/itm/225569733540

Buy now on ebay site

#vintage #retro #vintage toys #litho #forklift #truck #N512 #Japan #japanese #Made In Japan #in japan #usagiya #lift #friction #powered #shovel #showa #toys #toy #tin #tintoys #tin toys #car #60s 70s 80s 90s

[blueicequeen19]

Stolen & Stuffed

Warnings: public humiliation with a toy, unprotected sex, anal, oral, JJ being a creep 👀🖤

I watch as she stops with a jolt again, squeezing her thighs together as she crosses one ankle over the other. Her hand braces herself on the tree as she grits her teeth with her eyes closed tight until suddenly she straightens again, shooting a dirty look to someone across the party.

Y/N has a toy in and someone is controlling it. I'd bet money on it. And the thought has me harder than I've been in a long time. Especially since I have the sudden urge to claim her while she's horny and desperate before the one with the remote does.

"Need a drink?" I approach her, holding out the cup of beer I just poured from the keg.

"Thanks." She sighs, taking it and downing it as quickly as she can.

"Rough night?" I smirk, taking the cup back when she finishes. Before she can answer, the toy comes alive again because her eyes widen and she grits her teeth as she almost looks at me for help.

"Are you okay?" I half laugh, watching as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other while practically holding her breath.

"I'm--." Her voice has reached a higher pitch until she grits her teeth again, her legs starting to shake. Whoever is doing this is ruthless. She's about to cum in front of me. When she sucks in a sharp breath, the buzzing must stop because she whimpers, letting her shoulders sag as she shoots a glare over my shoulder.

"Do you need anything?" I ask, watching the way her cheeks flush and her tits raise with every rapid breath.

"No." She brushes past me and I smile, smelling her arousal in the air. The rest of the night seems to pass by in a blur as I watch her be tormented over and over again. Never to find her release. My balls have never been more blue and I have a permanent wet spot in my boxers. Why was this so goddamn hot and fascinating?

I don't even realize she's leaving for the night until my legs take me towards her. I lose sight of her until I hear a curse and I glance between two big trucks, seeing her hand under her dress as she tries to yank the toy out. I charge her, removing her hand as I pin her front against a truck door. She's panting, her body trembling with need. I don't even think she's scared.

"Please. I can't take it anymore. Just take it out. Please." She sobs, fisting her dress to reveal her bare ass. Fuck. She's not wearing panties and she's got a great ass.

I keep my forearm against her back as I pull back to examine her, nearly nutting at the sight of the plug in her ass. I wasn't expecting that. Her pussy, yes. But not her ass. This girl just kept surprising me.

"If I take it out, I'm going to fuck it." I growl, pressing my thumb against the jewel. It's not vibrating anymore but the owner hasn't come to collect it yet.

"I don't care. Just do it. Please." A tear trails down her cheek, making me snap. I free my cock in record time before slowly pulling the toy free. I toss it on the ground and quickly reach between her thighs, finding her absolutely dripping. It was running down her thighs and her clit was swollen. Another whine leaves her as I use her arousal to wet my hand then rub it down the length of my cock. I don't waste another minute before pressing inside her pussy, groaning in her ear from the tight fit as she whimpers and curses. She's shaking like a leaf but it doesn't stop her from pushing back against me.

"I'm so close already." She whispers, grabbing the truck mirror for support.

"Good because I'm not going to last very long." I mutter darkly, thrusting into her twice more before pulling out and guiding my slick cock to her waiting asshole.

"Oh--god--." She pants, lifting up on her toes as I push past her tight ring of muscle. The plug readied her but not nearly enough. She was going to hurt tomorrow.

"You want me to fuck your ass?" I growl in her ear, tightening my hold on her waist as I draw her hips back. She hums her anwer, her lips quivering as she pushes back against me, her hair tickling my face as I start to give short, shallow thrusts. I was barely halfway in and about to blow and she wasn't waiting. She was as desperate as I was.

I watch in fasination as she fucks her ass on my cock, faster and faster. I have to clamp a hand down over her mouth as she starts to moan loudly. When I snap my hips forward I feel the moment her body detonates like a bomb. I wrap my arm around her waist as I mold my body to her back, pinning her between me and the truck as I fuck her hard enough to make the truck rock until my knees damn near give out as I cum right along with her.

I don’t stop. I slide my hand down and bury two fingers in her quaking pussy until she’s coming again, her tears wetting my hand. Only when her legs give out do I slow to an agonizing stop, resting my forehead on her shoulder as I stare down to where we are connected.

This was.. other worldly. A whole new high. A greater prize to be stolen. Even if she let me in.

Minutes seem to pass as we try to collect ourselves, my cock still hard inside her while we both pant like we've run a marathon. I slide my fingers over her clit and she jerks, no doubt overstimulated and sensitive. I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean of her cum as she shudders against me.

When I finally do pull out and see the cum dripping from her ass, I realize I'm not done with this girl. Not by a long shot.

I spin her around and drop to my knees, throwing one of her legs over my shoulder as she stares at me with dazed, hooded eyes. I was going to own this girl by the time this was over.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #jj maybank x reader smut #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank sex #jj maybank x reader #tw dark themes #dark!jj maybank

[natriae]

Dad!haikyuu is everything! I imagine Omi being your fake date to a family gathering and he swoons at your interaction with the kids until an auntie shoves a baby in his arms and he’s like UHHHHH 🧍🏻”don’tcrushthisbaby don’tcrushthisbaby” And now everyone including yourself can’t take their eyes off him 😭😭😭😭

STOP I LOVE THIS

warnings: fake dating, fluff, cue flustered kiyoomi

One month ago Sakusa Kiyoomi took you aside during one of your usual hangouts with Atsumu to ask if you could pretend to be his girlfriend. Your brain told you over and over that this is a terrible idea, but you couldn't help yourself and said yes. Plus, it was one night at his mom's house. You already knew his family it wouldn't be to shocking to see you by Kiyoomi's side.

That's the thing. Your heart strings started to be pulled on the moment the two of you walked through the door and Kiyoomi let out a short, quiet "we're dating now." His mom's only response was to pull you into a hug and explain how she's been waiting forever for this. After greeting the two of you she told everyone the good news.

You felt terribly guilty for lying to her but Sakusa seemed unbothered. Maybe you were just being dramatic about the whole situation.

Somehow mid-way through the night you ended up spending most of your time with Kiyoomi's sister's kids. She was your favorite Sakusa. She also was the only one who knew you had a crush on her brother since middle school. She would help you get pretty for him, but it never worked. She claimed it did, but you never saw any progress. You and the children were in the basement playing with toys while a random kids TV show played in the background. The characters would sing and save the day successfully holding the attention of the youngest Sakusa. She isn't even one yet, but she has the whole family whipped except Kiyoomi of course. For some reason he tries to stay away from her leading you to never actually meeting the little one til today. She was adorable. She'd bounce her arms up and down while babbling to the song. In front of you was her older brother, and Kiyoomi's first nephew. He had toy trucks and a few random characters from animes you know and some you don't. You were helping zoom the cars around the basement, crawling on your knees still you looked up to see Kiyoomi has finally decided to spend time with you. You could have swore you saw his lip twitch before he stepped pass you and sat on the couch switching the TV channel.

Kaia, the youngest, immediately started crying when she couldn't hear the joy of a few cartoon pups saving the day. Quickly you ran over to her picking her up to help calm her down. You lightly bounced her on your hip while giving small shushes to the baby. You walked away from Kiyoomi because your pretty convinced by his actions that he doesn't like children. Which tears a bit of you heart knowing that you always imagined what having kids with him would be like. What a great dad he would be, but that's all in your imagination. The little girl begins to quiet down as you lift her up so she can stuff her head into your neck.

From across the room Kiyoomi watches you calm the baby with a red face. How are you so good at this? He's never seen you with a baby and from what he knows your not an aunt of any sort, unless you count Atsumu's dogs. He finally lets out a small smile as he watches you bring the baby up so she can snuggle into your neck, but as if the gods are against him. You turn around to see him watching you, and you tell the baby with a slight smirk, "baby I think your uncle Kiy wants to apologize," you walk over still holding the baby like a natural. Finally setting her down to crawl over to him on the couch. The older man trys to hold the baby like a puppy. He's never done this before and he's never felt embarrassed in his life. You giggle softly at his nervous face and tell him, "Kiyoomi that's not how you hold a baby," he can barely focus on your words when your giggles are enough for him to worship the group you walk on. He swears he enters heaven the moment he hears that sound. "it's good that your holding her butt but i think she wants to be facing you," You say as you scoot closer and reach to try and show him the proper way.

Kiyoomi leaned back on the couch and attempted to correctly hold the baby on his chest. One hand on her back and the other holding her butt up. As if Kiyoomi was a sleeping pill the little girl immediately closed her eyes and fell asleep on the tall man. "see it's not hard. Do you wanna take her to her momma? She seems sleepy," you said with small smile on your face. Not forgetting the little boy playing behind the couch you glanced over to make sure he was okay. God, Kiyoomi could help but want to ask if you wanted to be a mom right now.

Unmoving Kiyoomi stiffly shakes his head no at the though of having to hold this baby while moving. You srunch your eyebrows together in thought trying to understand why he's so stiff. noticing your confusion he squeaks out, "What if I break her?" and at first you thought he was joking but there was genuine panic in his features. He thought he was this cool collected guy, but you could honestly read him like a book.

"i'll be right here, okay? You're not going to break her," You nodded your head while you spoke to him in the calmest voice you could muster. Slowly he stood up and you redirected his hand so that it held up some of her head too along with her back. "you need to keep her head up. Baby's head's are weak," he nodded his head at your words like they were the gospel. Anything you said he would take it as the truth. If you said it, it was right. Cautiously walking up the steps to the family room. His whole family seems shocked to see the large man holding such a delicate baby. He takes a deep breath while he tries to pass the sleeping girl to his sister.

"whoa, what did you do to her? She never sleeps this heavy." His sister said in shock, "Kiyoomi you need to hold her more often," she continued. Then did you finally take in how red his face was. He was so flustered it was adorable. Quickly you took your phone out and snapped a picture of the boy without his knowledge.

bonus:

It was late and about everyone at the gathering had left except for Kiyoomi's immediate family. The baby girl was back in your and Kiyoomi's lap trying to decide who she wants to get attention from. You and Kiyoomi were shoulder to shoulder and at one point he brought his arm over to hold you even closer. After falling a few times on Kiyoomi and then gripping his shirt like a life line the little girl turned and crawled into your lap. You let a small Ha at Kiyoomi for her ultimately choosing you, but you take it back once the little girl tried pulling the top of you dress down to get to your boob. Kiyoomi quickly grabs the little girl and she starts crying sad that she didn't get fed. If you heard correctly you swore you heard him tell the little one that you would have milk soon but not now.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi fluff #kiyoomi sakusa #im sorry for making him horrible in another chance #babygirl kiyoomi #kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #dilf sakusa #haikyuu dads

[pseudowho]

Raising You

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

When the reader is de-aged by an unusual Curse, Nanami Kento is forced to raise her, and grieve the absence of his fiancée at the same time.

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The girls (twins, affectionately nicknamed the 'Nanaminis' by Satoru) played with a painted wooden truck and other cars around your feet, hampering the already limited view you had with your bump, big and still growing. Trying to cook dinner, you were flustered with sweaty strands of hair in your eyes, overstimulated by the noise from the cars, the casual bickering of the girls, your aching back, the steam from dinner, and--

"Girls, I'm home!"

You were nearly taken out by two frantic little girls tangling through your legs to run to the front door-- "Daddy! I've got two cars but she's got three and that's not fair" -- and you smiled to hear Kento, low and reassuring, tackling toy diplomacy with your daughters.

Kento walked into the kitchen and living room, loosening his tie, still having his ears talked off by his daughters. He stepped over cars, before scooting them to the side so you wouldn't slip, and hugged you warmly from behind, peppering loving kisses along your sweaty cheeks and neck.

"Daddy, rough play!" One of your daughters cried, and the other shouted her approval, both descending on Kento with screams and tiny punches. Kento dropped to one knee, dramatically groaning, feigning a fatal wound and pretending, with his head stooped, to have been beaten.

Your daughters paused their assault, and approached Kento slowly, "...daddy?" Kento stood and roared, taking one daughter under each arm and they squeaked with terror and delight, being tossed onto the sofa. Kento rolled over the back of the sofa to them, nobly defending himself in battle.

Pausing for breath while you watched affectionately, Kento hung one daughter behind his shoulders by the ankles, jumping lightly up and down while she squealed, and the other daughter held onto his ankle, yelling.

"They're just like you at this age, you know," Kento pondered, pretending to choke slam a child onto the sofa as she laughed, completely uninjured and thrilled. You wrinkled your nose into your tea.

"You make it sound so creepy when you say it like that...cradle snatcher."

Kento scoffed at you, gravely offended, continuing to defend himself against his daughters, "Behave. You know it wasn't like that."

You smirked, memories flooding back to you.

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Seven years previously...

"So what you're saying is...she went on a practice mission with Inumaki and Gojo, and now-- she's--" Nanami Kento gaped, reeling.

"...a child, yes." Shoko took a long drag of her cigarette. Behind her, in the treatment room, came the happy squeals of children playing. Kento delicately reached towards Shoko, clearing his throat. Quietly seething, and without breaking eye contact with her, he squeezed the embers at the tip of her cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, snuffing it.

"There are children around, Shoko," he hissed, darkly sarcastic. Shoko swallowed, but smiled fondly at Kento.

"It seems the Curse preferred to hunt children," Shoko purred, "obviously easier to catch, I suppose. Gojo dispatched it, but not before it had already de-aged those two in there." Shoko flipped through a pair of charts, "They're both in good health. I imagine this will wear off within a couple of days. But in the meantime...congratulations. You have to be a daddy until then."

Kento lifted the screen covering the small window in the door to the treatment room. There you were, roughly five years old, bouncing a blown-up rubber medical glove between yourself, Inumaki, and an amused-looking Satoru. Kento was filled with dread; what if you didn't come back? What if his fiancée was...gone?

Satoru beckoned Kento in. Taking a deep breath, Kento stepped into the room. You and Inumaki stopped in your tracks, round-eyed and stunned as this man, enormous and cross-looking, stepped over the threshold. You and Inumaki both shuffled closer to Satoru, who laughingly reassured the children.

"Now kids, I know Nanamin looks scary, but he's not. At all. I promise," Satoru urged, mouthing furiously at Kento; smile, damn you! Kento caught himself, dulling his own Cursed-energy, and kneeling down to the floor. He smiled at you, crinkled eyes warm and honeyed. You gave him a nervous smile back.

"We should introduce ourselves," Kento spoke softly, "I'm Nanami Kento, and I'm your-- I'm..." Kento swallowed thickly, trying not to cry, "I'm your mum and dad's friend. They've had to go away for a few days, and asked me to look after you." You stared at Kento, uncertain, tearing up.

"So, I was wondering," continued Kento, "could you help me do my shopping today? We need to make a list. You see, I don't know what treats you like, and I'm not sure what to make for dinn--"

"Eggs," you chirped, "I like eggs. Can we have eggs with dinner?" Kento smiled, heart melting, delighted by you but missing you desperately at the same time.

"Eggs. We can do eggs. And maybe we can bake something tasty to eat after?" You were warming to Kento now, your eyes sparkling, becoming more animated. You were dressed in just an adult t-shirt, all that Satoru could find in his locker, and Kento realised that he suddenly needed...everything. He had nothing child friendly in his house.

"Nanamin?" You asked him, tugging on the front of his shirt, "I've got an important question." Kento raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

You continued, "When we do baking, can I lick the bowl?"

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The old women in the supermarket were full of delighted whispers for this tall, handsome man doing the shopping with his cute daughter. Kento overheard them all, trying not to blush, as you chattered to him, stood in the trolley. Nobara had taken her mission seriously, and you were now very much appropriately dressed, albeit in very designer clothes, Nobara having taken full advantage of Kento's generous card limit.

You had, in your hand, a pen and some paper, and had written a shaky-lettered shopping list. You pointed down aisles, directing Kento.

"Eggs!" You commanded, a little dictator, "Flour! Sugar! Chocolate! Sweets!"

"Those last two definitely aren't on the list, young lady, nice try."

You huffed, dramatic and pouting, giving Kento the side-eye. Kento raised his eyebrows at you, gently chastising. Continuing round the shop, Kento had left you in charge of the barcode reader. Twice, he had needed to wrestle it off you and put items back on the shelves-- adult incontinence pads, a large bottle of bleach-- and once, he had had to stop you from trying to scan an old man, hastily apologising to the man and putting you back in the trolley.

He had allowed you to push the trolley, full of regret as he knelt, rebuilding a mountain of cans of beans-- "I'm sorry Nanamin, it was an accident, I'm sorry," you had sniffled, wiping your snotty nose on your sleeve before Kento could get to you with a handkerchief. The shop assistant supervised Kento's efforts with a tapping foot.

You had disappeared for five minutes, and Kento couldn't find you, panicking so badly for a moment that he considered knocking all of the shelves over to make it easier to spot you. Kento gave a description of you to several women, charmed by this flustered father, when you reappeared with a toy; "Nanamin, can I have this?" and Kento knelt, one hand on his chest and the other on your shoulder as his panic fizzled away.

At the tills, you packed the bags haphazardly as Kento hurriedly tried to correct the bags and be polite to the cashier and pay for the shopping and keep you from disappearing again and--

Back in the car with a sigh, Kento sat, head hitting the head rest hard, flicks of sweaty hair looping forwards over his brow. Frazzled, he let out a slow breath, until your little voice piped up in the back.

"Nanamin. You didn't do my seatbelt. The police will get you in trouble."

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"So you tap the egg here-- not there-- here-- GENTLY, gently...ahhh." Kento slapped a dishcloth to his cabinet doors as egg dripped sadly down them. You looked to him for answers, hands covered in crushed shell and raw egg. Lifting you to the sink under one arm, he washed your hands off under the tap. Putting you down, he washed his hands.

"-- then the eggy goes in there--"

"Yes, the eggy goes-- NOT THE SHELL--"

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"Make sure you eat the broccoli too."

"No. Don't like it."

"It's tasty. And it's good for you. Eat up."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

Kento sighed, a deep, weary sigh. Rubbing his fingers against his temples and counting to ten, he looked back to you with a smile.

"I'll give you some chocolate if you eat it."

Kento had never seen broccoli disappear so quickly.

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"IT'S IN MY EYES, IT'S IN MY EYES--"

"Calm down, it's not in your eyes, I'm washing it out--" Kento tried to hold you, naked and wet and thoroughly uncontrollable, still, as he poured water over your head. You stamped, spitting water away dramatically, and Kento considered he may as well have just got in the bath with you, his shirt now drenched.

"Come on," Kento huffed, trying to sound upbeat but feeling absolutely exhausted, "let's get you out and brush your teeth--"

"--I don't want to brush my teeth--"

"Well you've got to brush your teeth--"

You ran, streaking away out of the bathroom as Kento stumbled, reaching for you and missing, then chasing you down with a towel and a toothbrush.

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You padded to Kento, damp and pyjama'd as he stripped his wet clothes off and got dressed into his own pyjamas. Your teeth now brushed, and your hair neat and tidy, you looked mollified, a new book under your arm.

"Can you read?" You asked Kento suspiciously.

"I-- of course I can read."

"Good," you stated, chin out, "we can do my bedtime story then."

You plodded away to the spare room, while Kento placed both hands over his face and screamed into the void for a few moments.

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"Was the bear hungry? Or did he just want to be friends?"

Kento pondered, closing the book thoughtfully, "I think...he just wanted to be friends. He was lonely in his cave."

"Or hungry."

"Or hungry," Kento agreed, "but if he were that hungry, he'd have run faster, don't you think?" He asked, tickling under your chin as you squirmed and kicked, giggling.

You rolled over to face Kento, your little hand on his cheek. He rolled over to face you, taking in your little nose, round cheeks...all you, but so far away from the you that he was in love with, and so unable to share that burden with you, that he felt his nose sting with tears again.

"Nanamin?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

Ah, "I do. We're going to get married soon."

"Ooooh!" You squeaked, your hands coming up to cup your own cheeks, before your little face dropped. Kento peered at you, one eye open.

"But where is she?"

"She's...away working at the minute. But she'll be home soon. I hope."

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The next morning, the sunlight glinted in past the curtains, the room warm and comfortable. Kento slept the sleep of an exhausted parent, never quite enough to catch up. You were draped uncomfortably over him, head in his armpit and legs stretched out across his tummy.

Kento woke, a warm feeling spreading over him as he reached out a sleepy hand, patting you on the head. This was a really warm feeling, a bit wet--

"Nanamin. I've had an accident."

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The days had ticked by, and you seemed a little bigger every day, growing up at an accelerated rate. Kento settled into this bizarre, unwilling parenthood, wondering where this left you as a couple once this was all over. Fear twisted like thorns in the pit of his stomach, wondering if the romantic love you'd shared would be sullied by this paternal love he had been forced to convert to.

Kento met often with Satoru, now inadvertently raising a tiny Inumaki, talking-shop together as unlikely new fathers. Aside from Satoru having to occasionally put out fires caused by Inumaki's Cursed-speech, the playdates were soft, sweet even; babyccinos-- "marshmallows please, Nanamin!"-- in little cafés, pushing-- "higher, Nanamin, higher!" -- on swings, teaching-- "like this? Or this?"-- you both how to control your Cursed-techniques.

It was only at night, when you were asleep, and Kento was decompressing from the eternal labour of mealtimes, laundry, and emotional regulation, that Kento allowed himself to cry. Your little voice called out in the dark. Kento wiped his eyes, fixing a reassuring smile on his face, as he went to resettle you-- "It's alright, you're safe. I'm here."

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The days turned to weeks. The curse was wearing off, but slowly. By Shoko's estimation, you were about thirteen years old now. You had been raised by the motley crew of Jujutsu High-- being taken to theme parks by Yuuji and Nobara, running through the woods with Maki, helping Shoko organise her medical equipment-- around Kento's work days. He went to work now with new trepidation, having you to consider if he was injured, or killed, and overtime was a thing of the past. Kento's tie only ever came off when he walked through the door to your warm welcome.

Shoko kept thrice-weekly checks on your growth and progression, reassuring Kento constantly that you were on your way back to yourself. You both did and didn't retain memories of the previous days and weeks. Some days you treated Kento as if you didn't even know him, a stranger to you, wondering where your parents were. Some days, you seemed to recall events from days (years?) previously where Kento had cooked something special for dinner, or bought you a new outfit. Some days, you seemed haunted by memories that were yours, but not, too big for a child of your age to handle-- losing friends in battle, fighting Curses and Curse-users, failing tests and exams-- and Kento reassured you through your screams and cries in the night.

Raising you had been a confusing, tender whirlwind. Now that you approached your teens, you would see fit to argue with Kento over the barest of insults or inconveniences, pushing boundaries and being hurtful without true intent or realisation of its effects. Kento stayed outwardly calm throughout, an unshakeable presence in the turmoil of your bizarre second childhood.

When Satoru had suggested you come to live in the Jujutsu High dorms and attend classes, as you would have done at this age the first time, Kento found himself bitterly protective.

"No missions, Gojo," he threatened to Satoru one day on a park bench, you and Inumaki swinging and chatting idly in the play area that you both suddenly seemed much too big for.

Uncharacteristically serious, Satoru agreed immediately, "I wouldn't do that to her, Kento, you know that. The way I see it, these two," he gestured to you both, sipping his coffee, "are...recovering from injuries, I guess. But Inumaki's nearly caught up to where he should be...she's got a bit further to go. Shoko can watch her more at Jujutsu High. She can have peers. And maybe you need a bit more separation as she gets closer to your version of her."

And so, you went to Jujutsu High. Kento dropped you off like a concerned father, carrying your suitcases to your room, helping you unpack and put up shelves. His heart clenched with fear, waving you off, and you acted as if it was nothing, making it so much worse for him. He loitered by your room, in case you called him back...but you didn't.

At home again, Kento folded and packed away little clothes, smoothing them over with his big warm hands, musing how you really had only been tiny, what felt like yesterday. He gave you some distance, but gave Shoko none, her phone pinging at all hours, asking for updates, asking her to check on you.

Within a few days, Inumaki fell asleep. When he didn't wake after 24 hours, he was carried to the treatment room. Kento hung around the corridors of Jujutsu High when he heard, hungry for news of Inumaki's condition, deeply concerned about how you would be at the same stage. Shoko was cool and collected, certain that Inumaki would wake up his own self again. Kento worried he wouldn't wake up at all.

Shoko, as always, was right. Inumaki woke as if from a long dream, after two days. Kento visited him, bringing gifts of manga and sweets, while Inumaki recounted his odd half-memories of having been raised by Satoru, alongside his true memories of his first childhood.

Fighting the urge to go and see you, knowing that you were traversing your teenage years again in a way that was too intense for him to offer help with, Kento swallowed down his guilt, his longing to see you, and left. He passed your room reluctantly, his gut wrenching as if caught on your door handle, and remaining there, stretching, pulling, as he walked away from it.

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Another week passed. Shoko was sure your long sleep was close. She recounted tales of you to Kento, seeming excited that her old friend was nearly back to the her that Shoko knew. Kento's voice seemed tight and reluctant as Shoko suggested he come and see you. He declined, feeling awkward about seeing you in almost the form that he knew you.

Passing through the ground of Jujutsu High, ready to drop off a report to Yaga, Kento rounded a corner and bumped into a young woman, reaching out to grab her wrist before she fell to the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorr-- Nanamin!" Kento stuttered, flustered, resisting pulling an eighteen year old you into his arms. Before he could step back, you threw yourself into his arms with a happy squeak, hanging on around his neck, flush against him and clinging for dear life.

"Oh Nanamin, it's been so long," you breathed, flushed and excited. You gripped his hand, somewhere between a little girl and the you he was still madly in love with, "come on, let's go and get coffee! My treat." You pulled Kento's hand, bright eyes full of delight.

"As if I'd let you pay," Kento grumbled, straightening his suit and tie with one strict hand, his other still clasped by you. Reluctantly, trying not to blush, Kento took you for coffee. He was done-for within thirty minutes, reminded of exactly why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. He restrained himself easily, remaining kind and fatherly, but...distant, in a way you found confusing.

You looked at him through new eyes, wondering how you had ever seen him as a father-figure as a child, lost in thought as to how he still looked so young. His huge, warm hands, the way he was built, so much of a man beneath the confines of his suit, and you felt something stir in you that you never had before, an alluring obsession, a delicious agony of needing to know him differently. Kento's stoic distance was magnetic.

When he drove you back to Jujutsu High, you were full of blushes, unable to take your eyes off his hands smoothly turning the wheel, the sharp cut of his nose and jaw in profile, the stretch of his tan trousers against his thick thighs.

Kento had bricked a stone wall around his affections rapidly. You remained, to him, a little girl under his guardianship. You were the girl he had fallen in love with, but not the woman he was in love with now. His mathematical mind found separating the two of you easy. Grown men did not fall in love with little girls.

As he walked you back to your room, he asked you if there was anything you needed. He pulled you in for a gentle squeeze. He kissed you on the forehead. He bid you to call him for anything. He waited until you were safely home before he left. You were besotted. Completely smitten.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Kento sat in the staff room, legs crossed, reading his newspaper. The door clicked open, and he heard a satisfied "ah!" as you slipped in, locking the door behind you.

Kento looked over his glasses at you, eyebrows raised in questioning. You smiled at him, demure, curious, before idling over to him. As you sat beside him, Kento felt a strike of dread through him like ice, and he tensed, frowning at you.

You made light conversation with Kento, thigh to thigh on the sofa, your heart fluttering with anticipation. You spoke about the news, his insight so mature and informed, and you hung onto every word, desperate to be closer and you leaned against him, pretending to read the newspaper with him. He remained sincere, measured, neither pushing you away nor pulling you closer.

Kento turned to you, your face centimetres from his now, and you leaned in eagerly, his lips brushing against yours as your fingers grazed his jaw--

"No." Kento grabbed your hand, turning from you and pushing you gently away by the shoulders.

You froze, stunned. Cold embarrassment crept through you as if you'd been kicked in the stomach by Kento's immediate, categorical rejection. Kento folded his newspaper, standing and putting distance between the two of you. His back was to you, one hand clasped over his face and mouth as he sighed. Was he angry? Disappointed? Disgusted? You couldn't tell.

Hot tears of rage and mortification rushed down your cheeks, your vision blurry. Your hands twisted together in your lap. You heard Kento clear his throat lightly, and looked up to see him knelt in front of you, his face smooth and unreadable. He gently pressed a neatly folded handkerchief into your hand, and clasped his hand firmly around yours to close it.

"I'm sorry you feel this way about me, and I'm flattered. But I don't feel this way about you, and you shouldn't trust any man my age who pursues a girl your age."

Anger coursed through you as you stared furiously at him, still crying; "I'm not a girl," you snapped, standing and tossing his handkerchief to his feet. Kento sighed, collecting his handkerchief, rising from the floor beside you.

"I thought we had something-- I thought we were--" you stammered, your throat thick and constricted with humiliation. Kento nodded, understanding.

"You are special to me, and always will be," he assured you, the unspoken words remaining apparent as he shattered the pretences of any romance between you. You seethed with embarrassment.

"Like this fiancée of yours?" You shot, cruelly, with intention to wound, "You told me about her years ago. Where's she, all of a sudden? Did you shove her away, too?"

Kento's stern face gazed down at you, impassive, unreadable, and he spoke to you with measured coolness, "I appreciate you're upset. I don't believe my fiancée has any further place in this discussio--"

"Well I doubt she's coming back!" You spat, furious tears still threatening to overspill, "And I'm not interested in you either. Stay away from me."

You rushed from the room without looking back. The door slammed, a sudden waft of air ruffling the pages of Kento's newspaper. Speechless and devastated by how he had failed you, Kento sank onto the sofa, his elbows on his knees and his fingers sinking  into his neat hair.

Kento sat like this until the sun went down, oranges and reds glowing like embers against his suit as the day died away.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento threw himself into work immediately. Working overtime for any distraction, his days were long, and whiskey soothed him to sleep as it had before he had fallen in love with you. Another week passed, a blur of Curses and liquor. He sprayed your perfume onto your pillow. He had kept your pyjamas, unwashed, sleeping with his nose in them and terrified as the smell of you slowly faded away. He still cooked for two, just in case you were to come home, fearing you never would.

It was late, when Kento received the phone call. He was already three large drinks deep.

"Hello?" His voice blurred with exhaustion and drink.

"Nanami. She's...asleep. Has been for nearly two days now. Why haven't you answered your phone?" Shoko chastised. Kento swirled the glass in his hand, the smooth amber roiling in the glass like a little whirlpool. Kento couldn't answer, his throat constricting with unspoken fear- because what if she never wakes up? What if she does wake up, and doesn't know me? What if she does wake up, and doesn't love me?

Kento swallowed thickly, and opened his mouth to talk, words failing him. He heard Shoko sigh.

"Just...come. And bring her some clothes."

A click and a dial tone as Shoko hung up. Kento's hand shook as he laid down his glass, and dialled for a taxi.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Inumaki is exactly as he was before this Curse," Shoko pressed, walking with Kento to the treatment room, "and she will be too. I mean it." Kento looked tired, dishevelled, grieving. His tie hung loose, his shirt partly unbuttoned, smelling of whiskey and unwashed from his day's work. Shoko walked him into the treatment room, and pressed him down by the shoulders into the chair beside your bed.

Kento laid eyes on you, drinking you in, hope trickling into him as he studied you, looking exactly like you had when you had left for work that day, just a month ago but feeling like so much longer. With a trembling hand he reached out for yours, examining your hand in his own. He stayed this way until you woke up.

"...Kento?" You woke from your strange, long dream to your fiancé, bedraggled and teary-eyed, and smelling like a dirty bar, looking at you like you were a gift made just for him. Kento's shoulders heaved with sobs, the dam breaking as he gripped your hand in his and pressed it to his eyes.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You curled on the sofa with Kento, warm and familiar, as he finished recounting the events of the previous month. Stroking his hair the whole time, with his head in your lap, you felt like this was therapeutic for him, and you leaned down to kiss his forehead. His eyes drifted closed, reaching a hand up to keep your lips against his forehead for a little longer.

Pulling himself up, Kento grunted as he felt something hard press into his back. Reaching past the sofa cushions, he pulled out a painted wooden truck. You laughed, embarrassed and charmed.

"Did you actually keep everything?" You asked, touched. Kento hummed to himself, rolling the truck's wheels, his trauma still bearing faintly whimsical overtones.

"I did. I just...couldn't bring myself to get rid of them."

"Well, that's good. It will probably come in handy, one day."

"Really? Why--...oh. Oh," Kento bent over you, blushing and delighted, leaning into your love and promises for the future that he had missed so much.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento sat up, swinging his legs deftly out of his daughters' bed, and left the room, pulling the door closed to a pair of soft snores. He made his way to the living room, passing a dresser covered in photo frames. His eyes paused on an image of one sunny day seven years ago, a smile crinkling his eyes as he passed by on his way to you.

He hadn't yet explained to his daughters, who this other girl was who looked just like them, feeding the ducks with their daddy, one fine summer's day.

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#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x reader #jjk fluff #satoru gojo #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #jjk angst #nanami kento angst #pseudowho

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

I GOT A NEW CAR

Everybody meet the new baby that i will never shut up about forever!

This is Clifford the Third, my new 1996 Nissan Pickup!! I probably paid too much for her but given that I live in Massachusetts and she has virtually no rust I’m okay with that lol.

So a brief history of the Nissan Pickup! These trucks were released in the US in 1985 and were sold through 1997, when they were replaced with the Frontier. They were the successor to the beloved Datsun 720, which had been in production since 1979. They are in fact just called the Pickup! They’re colloquially known as the D21 - their chassis code, and the Hardbody, because of the double walled durable construction of the trucks’ bed.

The D21 was available with a couple different engines and drivetrain layouts. Mine is a 4x4 with the KA24 motor (which it shared with the 240SX/Silvia). She’s also a King Cab, meaning she has a slightly elongated wheelbase to allow for two small inwards facing jump seats in the back of the cab. Still a two door though.

AND SHE’S A STICK! She has a 5-speed manual transmission, and it’s the best transmission i’ve ever personally had in a car. She’s my third manual, the other two being a 1999 Toyota Corolla and a 2004 Subaru WRX, both of which were great but the Corolla had a really sloppy gearbox that felt incredibly vague at times, whereas the WRX had a sportier transmission that was pretty unforgiving and stiff. This one is definitive about where each gear is, but also won’t get too jerky or loud if you shift a little early or late.

Nissan Hardbody trucks are known and loved for their durability, versatility, and simplicity. They’re super bare bones but what they do have is built remarkably well and meant to withstand lots of abuse. If they don’t rust and have basic maintenance kept up it’s not uncommon for them to go 300k+ miles with minimal issues. Mine has around 184k miles, high but manageable. She also has a few modifications from the previous owner, namely a straight piped exhaust (no muffler, just one big long aluminum tube), aftermarket bumpers and lights, locking hubs, and a small lift. The guy i bought it from had plans to make it an off-roader but had too many projects and needed to offload one to make space in his driveway.

While many people either take these off-roading or turn them into drift trucks, my plan is to bring her back to mostly stock. I’m in the process of tracking down OEM bumpers and a more typical cat-back (from the catalytic converter back) exhaust system so she’s a little less obnoxiously loud. Since i mostly just need reliable transport more than a toy and she is now my sole car, I want to just make her relatively normal. But I love her a lot and am happy to be able to share!

#not a car id #nissan #i put like 70 miles on her today alone and she did great

[anticanonsposts]

Random Fluff Headcanons-König

Completely SFW

If your bed has a bunch of pillows and blankets he falls asleep so fast and will be dead asleep until he wakes up. It gets to the point where he just needs to be in your bed smelling you to fall asleep. 

Like this man will become dead weight on you if he falls asleep on top of you, to the point that you end up squeezing out from under him just to get some of his body heat off of you, and so you can breathe easier. 

Speaking of sleeping on you he can fall asleep on any part of your body as long as his head is resting there. Chest, butt, thighs, shoulders, back, ANYWHERE 

You’re pretty big but he has stressed so many times that that’s what he loves. And since dude is built the way he is he lifts you like you’re nothing. He consistently tells you that you are physically perfect for him and that he loves a woman with curves and rolls.

(I've seen a few relationship counselors on tik tok talk about how gym rats sometimes love bigger women, and König is so strong why wouldn't he want to do a few extra sets at home with you, using you)

This mountain of a man will kick his feet and cover his face whenever you text that you are coming over or you invite him over. 

When you two travel together you usually opt to drive since its cheaper and planes are very uncomfortable for him. In the car you can stop whenever you want to get out and stretch your legs, once you taught him the term ‘passenger princess’ he is obsessed with it and puts your name on the glove box on the passenger side of his car (probably truck let's be honest). Thankfully you like to talk a lot so that keeps him occupied when his mind wanders and he gets antsy while driving 

The few times that you do fly he is the brawns and you are the brains, you keep track of the boarding passes and gate changes and he is in charge of the bags, he usually needs to have something in his hand to fidget with whether it be a fidget toy or your hand, he gets more nervous on planes since once he enters a plan all eyes usually go to him. And he is cramped the entire time.

This obviously doesn’t help with his body dysmorphia issues and you usually try to distract him once you find your seats with little quips and how excited you are to reach your destination.

It does help that you two always get at least 3 seats (sometimes 4) to share between the two of you, so that you both are more comfortable and so you don't have to deal with any other people.  

Concerning love languages this man is the king of parallel play, he doesn’t care what each of you are doing as long as you are in the same room together, just your presence is comforting to him. 

One of your love languages is principally touch and he at first had no problem with you touching anywhere below his neck, it took awhile for him to get accustomed to someone touching his face and head so gently. 

But at this point in your relationship he loves nothing more than a hand on his cheek. 

Loves loves loves that you treat him like your guard dog, but especially when you go out and bring your friends with. At first you thought this might make you nervous but come one at the end of the day he is a man, and a man surrounded by (and protecting) women is gonna be happy.

If any man is dumb enough to approach or harass you....

They shit themselves once they see the man you have with you.

When you guys go to a club he often gets mistaken for a bouncer by other patrons walking up asking him questions, or other bouncers and bartenders come up to him, asking him to deal with rowdy people, at first he doesn’t understand why this keeps happening, and you just give him a sly smile and he understands. 

Speaking of clubs, he loves to get drunk but it usually takes him double what it takes you to get buzzed, which can get pretty expensive so he always insists on paying when you go out

Why would  you pay if I eat and drink double?

This x2 when you guys go out to eat or if he goes with you grocery shopping, (I cannot imagine the caloric intake a man that big takes in in a day)

Like many people, once you are both drunk, many of your insecurities and mental health issues diminish (obviously just for the short term) and he is no longer as conscious of his size and is able to better tune out the world and just enjoy himself without much encouragement.

Next part only pertains if you take edibles/smoke and if he does it with you..

When he’s high

The way that when girls cuddle and they want to be IN the other person’s skin, this is how he is when he’s high, his face is just glued to the nape of your neck, loving the smell of you and how close he can be to you.

When it comes to cuddling he just loves to be held by you, his favorite is when he's nestled on your chest. 

LOVES having your fingers in his hair.

If you have fake nails on and he loves the way scratches with those feel on any part of his body but especially on his scalp

When spooning he can go either big or little he likes things about both, he loves feeling you wrapped in his arms just getting to gaze at your pretty face, and the likes the security of having your arms wrapped around him.

The meme about dick on the butt and hands on the titties while cuddling is in full swing when you are the big spoon, your hands just rest on his pecs as it's laced with his.

Speaking of your nails, he loves everything to do with them, loves watching you do them, try new designs, and whenever you get a fresh set he admires them and tells you what he likes about them. 

As mentioned before he loves quality time even if you are doing two separate things, so when it takes hours to do your nails, he loves it.

When you are out in public, especially likes fidgeting with your nails, particularly when they have charms on them.

He also tends to fidget with your hands while you are in public and/or if he gets nervous.

He actually does let you paint his nails once he gets comfortable with you, but to your surprise he doesn't want them to be black bc he thinks its ‘too basic’  (you have no idea what content he was consuming to come to this conclusion) he ended up picking a pale iridescent almost opal color with a green tint, it's a lot more subtle which makes him more comfortable to show them off.

#cod x reader #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x reader fluff #fluff #comfort #headcanon #cute #sweet #konig my bbg

[megalony]

My Squad- Part 3

This is the newest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you for all the lovely messages so far I hope everyone likes this next part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Series Taglist: @paramedicnerd004 @embersflame @allmybattleships

911 Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan hasn't been with the team long and has kept his family a secret, but now he is ready for the team to meet his daughters. All of them.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, where's Cora gone, where is she? There she is!" A grin broke out on Evan's face as he moved his hands in front of Cora's eyes before waving his hands out at his sides and leaning down to kiss her nose. He loved the way she smiled and showed her two tiny front teeth when she grinned, gurgling and pawing at him.

He covered her eyes again with one hand before gasping and leaning down, laughing as she squealed and grabbed his nose.

"Let's go shopping," He murmured at her, lifting her from her carseat to tuck her up against his chest. He could feel her tiny hand grabbing at his chain like the magpie she was and it only made Evan smile more when she started to gurgle and make little noises into his cotton shirt.

With Cora safely nestled in his left arm, Evan shut the door and rounded the other side of the truck. He opened the front door so Angel could hop out before he moved to the back door to get Ella.

He had done a twenty-four hour shift yesterday and was desperate to spend some time with his girls and that meant bringing them with him to do the weekly shop. He'd left (Y/n) asleep on the sofa, satisfied that she'd managed to drink two protein shakes and felt a bit better than she did the other day.

Evan liked doing the food shop, he had a system and he was always in and out and the girls were good. They were all nervous in their own way and attached to him so they never strayed or played up which made life so much easier for him. Cora stayed in the trolley and Ella was tired so she would sit in the trolley too so she could be close to Evan. And Angel would help grab food off the shelf and load up the trolley.

They were a well-oiled machine.

"Off we go, girls. Stay close," Evan held Cora in one arm and Ella perched high on his other hip with her arms coiled around his neck possessively. And when he looked down at Angel, she stuffed her hand in his jean pocket so he could feel her close by and make sure she didn't wander.

He knew once the next girl- or boy- came along, the truck was going to have to be traded for something else. It was a six seater, three in the front and three in the back, but it would be too cramped to fit three car seats in the back as three of his girls would be under the age of six and Angel was still on a push up seat too.

Once they crossed the road, Evan watched Angel skip ahead and grab one of the larger trollies that they always used.

"Okay," Evan bent down so he could set Ella on her feet and kissed Cora's forehead while he moved her round to perch in one of the two baby seats at the front of the trolley. He cooed down at her, grinning from ear to ear while he untangled her hand from his gold chain she was mesmerised with and clipped the tiny belt around her waist. "Come here babygirl."

Ella wiggled into the seat, trying not to push or nudge Cora who had started to hang her hands down on the handle bar until Angel held out her teething toy she grabbed from the jeep.

A gentle smile flooded Angel's face when she felt her dad hold her shoulders and move her between his legs and the trolley so she could stay close and feel safe. Evan arched his back out, folded his arms over the handlebar that all three girls were holding onto, and started a slow walk into the shop.

They headed through the doors and turned the corner towards the fruit and veg. They had a system, they wandered down each aisle and Evan let the girls pick a lot of the stuff. He had a mental note of the main things they needed but it was always easier to quickly go down every aisle than follow a list and traipse round the shop three times for whatever was written down.

He tapped Angel's shoulder and pressed his finger and thumb together into the okay sign, moving his hand from left to right before holding his index and middle finger out in a straight line into the fruit sign.

"Any fruit you want," He pointed towards the crates and nodded so she could dip beneath his arm and pick something out. "What about you baby, what fruit do you want?" Evan didn't need to ask, he knew what the answer would be which was why he pushed the trolley further ahead towards the berries.

"Strawberries," Ella grinned, watching her dad mouth the same word at the exact same time with raised brows and curved lips. He grabbed a punnet and placed it behind her in the trolley. "Daddy…"

"Ella," Evan repeated in the same sing-song voice as he moved his hand to hold hers that had moved out towards his chest. He waited patiently for her to meet his gaze with those big blue eyes and fluttering lashes and that same perplexed smile she had when she asked him random questions.

"You know mummy's new baby,"

Evan's eyes narrowed but his smile remained while his intrigue heightened. He watched his middle daughter take his hand and hold it out in front of her like she was examining it. She traced her fingertip over each finger and moved to draw the lines and creases in the palm of his hand before she looked back up at him.

"I do, what about it, girlie?"

"Is it a girl?"

For a brief second, Evan turned and looked over at Angel, nodding when she held out a honey melon for approval before she delicately placed it in the trolley. When he saw she was holding the edge of the trolley, he slowly pushed his weight on the handlebar and they started walking further up. Angel grabbed the veg Evan pointed to while he reached his thumb out to brush against Ella's chin, making her smile.

"I don't know, it might be. I can't exactly choose, why'd you ask?" He knew there was a reason behind her sudden curiosity and he wanted to know what Ella actually wanted to ask. She was building up to it, he could see it in her eyes that were finally looking up at him.

"Make it a boy, daddy." Her eyes flitted around, searching for some sort of confirmation in his blue orbs but when he grinned, Ella whined and tugged on his hand.

"Why a boy? You want a brother this time?"

When they were expecting Cora, Ella didn't really understand what it meant or what was happening. She had always patted (Y/n)'s growing stomach and curled around it but she didn't comment or ask questions. Not until she saw Evan walking in the front door with a new bundle in his arms and she immediately started to cry. Up until that point, she had been his little girl and Cora changed the dynamics.

This time, Ella had more of a grasp of the situation. She understood that there was a baby in (Y/n)'s tummy and that there would be a new baby in the house soon.

It was different with Angel, she didn't have the same jealousy that Ella possessed. Angel liked playing with Cora and dressing her up like a doll and she liked looking after Ella and being the big sister. Plus Angel knew she was the first born, she remembered auntie Maddie always telling her she was called Angelica because Evan fell in love with his 'little angel' the moment he laid eyes on her.

Evan had different connections with each of his daughters, Angel was his first girl, Ella was his clingy baby girl and Cora was his sweetheart who always stopped crying the moment he picked her up. And when the next baby came along, he would have a new dynamic with them as well.

"No more girls daddy. No."

"Oh, are you giving me an order, Eleanor?" Evan curled his fingers and pointed his index finger at her until she squirmed and whined. "Explain."

"Baby should be a boy, you have girls a-and if you have another, I won't be babygirl anymore." Ella pulled his hand until she could nuzzle her cheek against his palm but she frowned when Evan chuckled at her. He wasn't being fair, he was laughing when she was being serious, she knew her dad could do anything. He was a brave firefighter and he could make the new baby a boy if he wanted to. If she wanted him to.

"Ella, listen to me baby," Evan kept his elbows on the handlebar and moved both hands to cup her face. "Angel is my big girl, my first Angel. Then there's someone called Eleanor, who's my babygirl. And I've got Coraline, my little button, and mummy who's my best girl. You'll always be my baby, if we have a girl I'll find another name for her and if it's a boy, I will be shocked. Okay?"

Part of Evan had felt guilty when Ella was born. He was guilty that he called his first daughter Angel because he thought when they were older Ella would be upset or felt he was favouring Angel for her nickname. He had never really called Angel babygirl, she was always his little star, his angel without wings.

And Ella had always been called his babygirl, something she was attached to and answered to every time. Cora was his button because of how delicate and small she was when she was born, and referencing the movie (Y/n) loved.

Whether they had a girl or a boy next, Evan would find a nickname for them and it would be unique and especially for them. Although he would be gobsmacked if he had a son for the first time after three beautiful daughters. He wasn't so sure he was supposed to have sons, he was a girl dad through and through so far and he was committed to it. The girls were his life, his team, his squad and they meant everything to him.

"Okay daddy,"

"Alright, now let's do some shopping." Pulling her close, Evan pressed a sloppy kiss to her temple before he sped up the pace and headed down the next aisle with Angel trotting at the front of the trolley. Happily oblivious to the conversation they were having.

Every few seconds, Angel turned around and pointed at some bread and biscuits and crumpets on the shelves, waiting for a thumbs up from Evan to know what to put in the trolley. And Ella would whine and make grabby hands at whatever she wanted which Evan would check and approve to make sure she wasn't allergic to anything in them.

He was starting to get worried at the growing list of allergies Ella had which neither Angel, Cora, (Y/n) nor Evan were allergic to. She was a mystery.

Moving the trolley to the end of an aisle, Evan grabbed a pack of eggs and kissed Cora's temple when he put them in the trolley. He held her grabby fist that was always reaching for him and swayed her hand for a minute before he went to get something else.

"Cake? My cake?" Ella held her left hand out flat and curled her right hand into a claw and started to bash her right hand down on her other palm. Making the sign for cake to her big sister who was stood near the large display of cupcakes.

Angel nodded and turned towards the shelves, scouring through until she found some vanilla cupcakes that looked like the special ones they bought. They always bought cakes that didn't contain milk rather than have special cake for Ella and different ones for the rest of them. It didn't taste too different and it was safer in case Ella got confused and ate the wrong one.

Grabbing the box, Angel turned on her heels and lifted her chin towards Evan who was heading back to the trolley.

"Daddy?" Her voice was meek and timid but she caught Evan's attention when she held up her hand, pressed her thumb to her forehead and pulled her hand away. The sign for dad.

Her fingers half-bent and her thumb curled into her palm for the sign of E before she held the cake box out and made a claw with her other hand, tapping her hand down on the box. She didn't want to put them in the trolley if they weren't the right cakes for Ella.

"Pass them here," Evan scrutinised the fine print before he nodded and put them in the trolley.

"Thank you," Ella pressed her fingers to her chin and made the sign at her sister.

Evan cooed at Cora again and bent down to rub their noses together when she started to squeal and make a few strange noises around her teething ring. He steered the trolley down the meat aisle with Angel half a pace in front of him and rounded into the tins.

He threw a few things in alongside Angel before she turned towards him. She curled her hand into a fist, holding out her index finger and moved her hand in front of her, curling her finger repeatedly. The sign for cereal.

"Go ahead, but stay close." Evan didn't like Angel wandering too far ahead of him.

It was easier if she was behind him because he could turn and sign and talk to her but if she was in front, it was harder to gain her attention and she didn't always turn around often. Sometimes he had to run up behind her and gently grab her shoulder so she knew it was him and not some stranger sneaking up on her. But Angel knew to stay close to him wherever they went and she was too nervous to stray far from her parents anyway.

"Jelly, daddy, mummy wants jelly for baby," Ella tapped the shelf beside her and watched Evan card through the packets until he found the raspberry one. (Y/n) didn't normally like jelly, the texture was off-putting but their newest baby had a craving for it.

"Yes she does, what one do you want baby?"

Angel dragged her fingertips along the edge of the shelf, feeling the different boxes quake and move beneath her touch as she scuttled to the end of the aisle. The cereal was on the next aisle to the right and she wanted some of the chocolate cookie cereal (Y/n) had bought her last week.

She barely turned round the corner when she collided with someone. She stumbled back a few steps, coiling her arms into her sides and closing her eyes for a second before she dared look up and see who she had ran into. She hadn't expected anyone to be that close to the corner she was curving around.

Her eyes looked up to see a man a bit older than her dad, staring down at her with intensive eyes that unsettled her and a curling lip like a dog snarling at her.

Angel could feel her hand trembling as she curled her fingers into a fist and quickly brushed her fist over her chest in repetitive circles, whispering a quiet 'sorry' along with the sign. She didn't like talking in public, she couldn't tell how loud she was being or if she was being too quiet and her pronouncing was very off. She could only tell by her parent's approving nods or their tentative smiles whether she was correct or needed a bit of tweaking to her words.

Her eyes darted down to the floor and her mouth fell open when she saw she had knocked two boxes of cereal and about three small boxes of teabags out of his hands by mistake. Without thinking, Angel squatted down and reached out to gather the items up that had spread across the floor.

Her skittish eyes dragged around the floor to see if she had grabbed everything but she couldn't hear him telling her to stop.

Adrenaline burst through her chest and a scream left her lips when she suddenly felt a hand coil around her shoulder and give her a sharp shove. Her trembling hands dropped everything back onto the floor and she tipped backwards on her heels and fell back onto her bum.

The impact didn't hurt but she could feel tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at the stranger like a deer caught in the headlights.

When he leaned down like he was about to either shout at her or try and touch her again, Angel whipped her head to the right and locked her eyes on her dad. She could see the thunder burning in his eyes and how red his face was starting to turn but she couldn't work out what he was saying. His lips were moving too fast for her to work out but he looked like he was shouting.

Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold them out straight. She held her left palm out, curled her right hand into the thumbs up sign and started to bash her fist down onto her left palm.

Help.

Evan's heart pounded in his chest as he bolted down to the end of the aisle, leaving Ella and Cora a few feet behind him in the trolley so they were close by but not next to whatever scene was playing out with his other daughter. He could feel the fury radiating through him when he noticed Angel was crying and she was shakily trying to sign for help.

As soon as he was beside her, Evan grabbed her beneath her arms and picked her up. He placed her a few feet back and stood in front of her with his left arm curled behind him, holding her hip to keep her safely behind him like a human shield for his girl.

He could feel her fingers curling around his trouser leg and her face buried in his lower back just next to his left hip.

"Did you just touch my daughter?!" Anger dripped off Evan's tongue like venom as he looked the elder man up and down.

He was an inch shorter than Evan with hair fading to grey and stubble covering his chin but it was the displeased look on his face that sent Evan reeling. He looked at Angel like she was some kind of inconvenience or a child terrorising him. But Evan had seen his daughter try to pick up whatever was on the floor so he guessed she had bumped into him by mistake.

He heard the stranger angrily tell her to stop- which she couldn't hear- but he went livid when he watched him push his daughter. How dare he think he had any right to try and touch her or get stern with her. She was being kind, she was being considerate picking his items up off the floor when she didn't have to.

"She ran into me-"

"Yeah, by accident and she was trying to apologise."

He held his hand out and shook his palm to try and get his point across while his other hand stayed behind him and rubbed up and down Angel's back to calm her down. At least she couldn't hear what was happening. He let his eyes dart back to the trolley where Cora was gurgling and Ella was watching with worry in her eyes. He had to keep watch over all his girls and keep them safe.

"I told her not to, she should have been careful-"

"No, I don't give a fuck-" Evan curled his hand into a fist and pointed his index finger at the stranger who was really starting to rub him up the wrong way. He was being snarky and inconsiderate and Evan was going to lose his temper. "You do not lay a hand on my daughter or talk to her like that. Get the fuck back."

He pressed his palm into the man's chest and gave him a rough shove back to add some space between them. He had no right to push Angel or try to grab her, he had frightened her when he should have let her pick the items up and hand them back to him. She said sorry and she made amends, he was in the wrong here.

"Don't touch me-"

"Don't touch my daughter."

"She needs to learn some manners."

"Manners?!" Angel took a step back when Evan let go of her and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt. He shoved him back into the shelf behind and pinned him up against the baked goods. "She's deaf and she was signing for help because you frightened her! Manners is having some respect for a child and letting her pick up the shit you dropped. If you want manners, you apologise to my girl before I deck you."

"Help daddy," Angel made the sign for help twice before she raised her thumb to her forehead and signed dad. Her eyes locked on three familiar faces just down the next aisle. The colleagues from her dad's place of work.

"Buck, what're you doing?"

Bobby let go of his trolley and ran towards the scene along with Eddie and the pair of them grabbed one of Evan's arms each and pulled him back before he did something he would regret. Their large shop for the station meals was long forgotten when they moved over towards Evan. While Chimney held Angel's shoulder and moved her a few feet away towards the trolley where Cora was making strange noises and Ella was repeating 'go daddy!' not understanding the situation.

"I'll call the police-"

"Go ahead and I'll tell them some stranger thought he had the right to grab my daughter in the middle of the shop and push her!"

Evan riled in their arms but he held his hands out and sighed when the man shivered and stormed off. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument and if the men let go of Evan for one second, he knew he would be caught up in a fight he didn't really want. He was in the wrong and everyone would know that if the police got involved.

"Buck, wanna explain what that was all about?" Bobby patted his shoulder while Eddie dragged him a few feet towards the girls and away from the crowd that was starting to gather.

"Angel bumped into him and he fucking pushed her down, he frightened her I- I thought he was gonna hit her." His chest heaved and pounded to gain back his breath but he froze when Angel pulled away from Chimney and shot forward to wrap herself around his legs.

He bent his knees and scooped Angel up into his arms, sitting her safely on his hip so she could curve her arms around his neck and burrow down into his chest like she was a toddler again. Evan cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer so he could merge his lips with her temple and reassure himself that she was indeed alright.

"I've got you, Angel."

"Come on, we'll do our shop alongside yours." Bobby patted Buck's shoulder and motioned towards Eddie to go and grab the trolley they left behind. It would be wise to follow Evan for the remainder of his shop in case anything else happened while they were all here.

"Aren't you a cutie?" Chimney whispered, tuning out of the conversation and into his own interaction with Cora who had taken it upon herself to grab his hand and start gnawing on his index finger.

***

A groan bubbled up at the back of Evan's throat and he moved his head, nuzzling his face down into the back of (Y/n)'s head to try and get comfy again. He could feel he had his right arm draped over her waist and he used it to his advantage and pulled her closer until her back was glued up into his bare chest.

He brought his knees up until they were curved beneath (Y/n)'s bent legs and his groin was pressing up into her bum.

He let his hand smooth up and down her bare stomach for a minute while he breathed in her scent and tried to get comfy again and settle back down. There was no streaks of light creeping through the curtains and his surroundings were dark so Evan knew he wasn't about to get woken up by his alarm just yet.

He could feel (Y/n)'s breathing change when he grinded into her again and when she slowly turned onto her back, Evan took full advantage. His leg looped over hers and shimmied between her thighs to part them and he wormed his way over until his upper half was laid on her chest and his face was buried in the crook of her neck.

It felt heavenly to have (Y/n)'s hand lazily reach up to card through his curls and scratch his scalp. He knew she wouldn't stay on her back for very long, she was never comfy laid like that and with the amount of time (Y/n) spent being pregnant, she didn't like laying on her back with the baby pressed down on her.

His hand moved up to cradle the back of her neck when she turned onto her side to face him. She let his knee press up between her legs and she looped her thigh over his own like they were playing a game of jenga with their limbs.

But just as Evan groaned and ran his hand down from her neck to her bra, his eyes shot open and his whole body jerked when he felt an arm curl around his neck from behind him.

"Fuck!"

"Babe…?" (Y/n) kissed Evan's chest and moved her hand to rub up and down his bare chest, wondering why he suddenly moved like he had been possessed. She could feel herself about to fall back asleep until she felt her husband moving around again.

"Jesus, it's Angel, she's in here with us."

When had she snuck in bed with them?

Evan usually knew when either Angel or Ella tried to sneak in the bed, he could hear Ella clamber onto the bed and huff. She tried to be stealth and quiet but she fidgeted a lot and he knew when she laid on his chest and fell asleep on him. Angel was a lot quicker and quieter and she usually stayed on the edge of the bed and slept where there was a gap so they didn't know.

This time he didn't feel her clamber into bed. She could have been there for a few hours for all Evan knew.

Evan was slow and careful as he sluggishly twisted round and laid on his back so he could look down at his eldest girl. She had been glued to Evan all day since the incident at the store, Evan couldn't even get a shower without Angel hanging by the door waiting for him to pick her up afterwards and cuddle with her. He had stayed with her while she fell asleep and now she was back in their bed for comfort and love.

"Alright girlie, I'm here, I've got you." It didn't matter that she couldn't hear him, she could sense him and that was all Evan cared about.

He flopped like a fish onto his right side and reeled his arm around her so he could tug her into his chest. His lips smothered the top of her head and he nuzzled Angel into him, feeling her arm curve around his torso and her nose brush against his sternum.

He shuffled back a little until he finally felt (Y/n)'s stomach pushing into his back just above his hips and her arm fell over his waist. She knew he wanted touch to be able to go back to sleep again and (Y/n) wedged her leg between his thighs for added comfort.

When Angel fidgeted in his arms, Evan gave her a bit of room to get comfy. She curled both her arms around his bicep and pressed her lips into his arm, clinging to him for dear life.

Even as his mind was starting to switch off, Evan worked on automatic. He curled his middle and fourth finger into his palm, leaving his pinkie, index and thumb sticking up and he pressed that hand against Angel's back. Letting her feel the sign he was gently patting into her skin.

I love you.

#evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #buck imagine #buck x reader #imagine #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #911 fox #my squad

[skovak]

Ghost ignoring the legality of having a dealer, let alone fucking his dealer because you're just as much a sedative as the weed you sell him in pink baggies.

afab!reader, mdni

It started after a late night teeming with stress and insomnia, and ended with you, looking up at Ghost with a smile as you hand him an eighth: free of charge because a friend of Soap is a friend of yours.

All he had wanted was that one eighth, enough to roll a few joints to help him through the restless nights, but you kept playing on his mind as he'd light up. You were unperturbed by his mask, his size, his presence. Between hits he wonders what your lips look like when they spill smoke. How they taste after a toke. How they look wrapped around his cock, eyes looking up into his, fingers splayed over his thighs.

It's not even a week later he's meeting you again. Another eighth passed between you, fingers lingering on his as you take the cash he fishes from his wallet. A smile pulling at your lips, a look in your eyes, a risk.

And before either of you can say, "wanna light up?" You're sitting on his toned thighs in the back seat of his truck, blowing smoke into his mouth between lazy kisses. His mask is pulled up to his nose, leaving room for your hand to cup his stubble-ridden jaw, thumb ghosting over scars you ache to kiss.

Clouded minds and cheeks flushed warm, your body yearns for his. A stranger, really, one that holds on his shoulders the weight of death and discontent alike. You watch it melt away through lidded eyes as your grind down on his clothed cock, straining against the fabric of his jeans. Ghost bucks his hips up to meet yours, a desperate moan floods smoke from your mouth into the air.

The joint passed from between his fingers to your lips, and Ghosts now-free hand trailing down your chest, stomach, lower. Fingers toying under the waistband of your pants as he journeys to your needy cunt. So sweet for him, wet already as he drags his middle finger through your folds, up to circle your clit with a pace that drives you dizzy.

The end of your joint sparks with each sharp inhale you take in response to his ministrations. Each involuntary jolt of pleasure that runs through you presses you harder against his aching cock. Maybe it's the weed, or the sheer size of him, but you think you might soon die if he's not balls-deep inside of you.

Meeting his eyes, glossy and red through the holes in his mask: you read a certain desperation that you share ten-fold. You try and converse your need with a look, but Ghost shakes his head.

"Use your words."

A growl to his tone: authority beyond orders. A complete physical domination over you, one that is intoxicating.

"Please," you jolt again when two fingers push inside of you. "Fuck me."

Ghost inhales, exhales, and pulls his fingers out of you. Bringing them to his lips, you take the chance to shift off him and pull your clothes off. Ghost follows suit, lifting his hips to lower his pants just enough that his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight, but his truck isn't big enough for you to sink to your knees and praise him with your weed flavoured lips.

So, neither of you waste precious (but distorted) time. You're straddling him in less than a few seconds, watching with bated breath as he pumps himself with languid strokes and then thrusts upwards, filling you in one ecstatic motion.

His cock stretches you in a way that feels like too much, but not nearly enough all at the same time. You can't help the sounds that rip from your throat as Ghost takes grip of your hips and starts guiding you back and forth on his length. Using you like a toy and kissing you like a lover-- there's a domestic comfort in his lips, a burning danger in the way his hips snap up into yours, a total overwhelming euphoria in the combination of two such extremes.

You grow hungry, chasing your shared climax like you're rabid. Fast movements of your hips, the bounce of your tits as he ruts upwards into you: the frenzy of shared desperation. Sweat covered bodies, the way he licks his lips before diving in to your neck: kissing and biting and licking and sucking on your skin until you're marked as his, even if only for the night.

A rolling orgasm washes over both of you at once. Sweet sweet ecstasy, a high unmatched by any substance or smoke as your legs shake and his grip near bruises your waist. A string of chokes curses from his lips, quivering lips as he thrusts upwards once more and settles deep inside of you, releasing a mess of lust that you'll soon feel empty without. Your mind blanks as pleasure jolts through you, vision blurred and lips on fire as he catches them in one last insatiable kiss.

And a moment of silence as you both calm. Heavy breathing, sweat stained skin, the smell of sex and weed between you. Ghosts lips are kissed near red, and you watch as they pull into a smile.

From the seat beside you, where your clothes lay discarded, he pulls another joint from a certain pink baggie and places it gently between your lips.

One word, an invitation.

"Another?"

#ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader

[undercoverpena]

vi. the place where I want to be

javier peña x f!reader | chapter six of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. making out. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) wordcount: 3.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi traces his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, allowing himself the chance to let his eyes roll up and down you.

Taking it in that you’re real.

“Or should I say hola?” 

He smirks, laughing and dropping his hand from his mouth. “You can say hola, hermosa. If you want.”

Dipping your head, he watches you take a breath before you lift your eyes to meet his again. All beautiful, shining—practically fucking sparkling. 

“I knew you’d be fucking handsome.”

“I knew you’d be beautiful.”

Letting his eyes carve around you, he creates an outline before he spends the time shading it in. Unable to tear his eyes from you, the way everything around you seems a fraction brighter, even if he knew that could be so.

All he knows is every inch of you is more perfect than the version he had in his head. 

Then, you blink, dipping your chin before you shift your weight onto another leg. Your fingers playing with your sleeve, something on your mind, puzzle pieces from the little sighs he knows down the phone, marrying with the mannerisms he now gets to see. 

“I know the customary thing is to hug, but….”

Smiling, he eyes you up. “But, what?”

“I really wanna kiss you.” 

Fuck. Me too. That’s all he thinks, hand resting on his hip as he watches you try to appear confident—embrace how your words fell from your lips as though it didn't take all of your strength to confess them.

“You should buy a person a coffee before kissing them.”

Snorting, he watches your brows rise, an expression falling across your face that makes him want to laugh. “Don’t think you’re a stranger, Javi. I came to the sound of your voice four nights ago.”

He licks his lips, your snark dripping with honey.

It makes it easy to slide a hand around your waist, bringing you flush with him. “I guess I did promise you the feel of my lips.” 

"You did."

It's dizzying, the way you gaze at him. More so when you slowly place your wrists on his shoulders, fingers tantalisingly close to the hair at the base of his neck.

It's why he allows you a moment, a chance to push him away—to reconsider. But, you don’t seem to want to take it, one hand sliding down his chest, fingers toying with the fabric of his open shirt—staring at him. All he can do is watch your pupils being swallowed by something he wants to see in more detail later. More privately. 

“Kiss me, baby," you whisper.

In the back of his throat, he buries a groan. Gently slanting his lips over yours, tasting it—mint and lipgloss—as his fingers slide under your cheek and jaw. Holding you, feeling you. Taking every bit of self-control not to pick you up and take you to his truck.

Instead, he just allows the pads of his touch to paint a pattern across your skin. Taking note of the way your mouth moves with his, widening, allowing him to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, feeling your whimper echo down his throat. 

And he doesn’t want to stop, not ever. 

Not as you grip his forearm, frame pinned to his as though it’s a crime the two of you have ever been apart. 

He supposes it is. An offence he's ever been without you before now. Even if he has you now.

Your lips fall from his in a way that you know you both must, too. Lashes fluttering open, blinding him in pure gold and sunshine, all full of longing, your eyes almost shaped like hearts staring back at him. 

“Let’s get you checked in, ay.” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. His hand releases you, before reaching around you, taking the handle of your suitcase—somehow surprised at how heavy it is. 

“What you got in here?” 

It's instant, the way you wrap your arms around yourself, your lips twist into a grin. "I wasn’t sure what to pack.” 

“Mierda, querida. How long are you staying for? Una semana o un mes.” 

Narrowing your eyes, your fingers jab at him playfully. “Hilarious. Una semana.”

Raising his brow, you stick out the tip of your tongue. But what takes him by surprise is the way your fingers slide around his other wrist. Your eyes shimmering with hope and insecurity, and instantly, he knows. 

Smiling, almost instinctively so. It graces the lower half of his face before his mind catches up to the fact, his fingers sliding between yours—fitting so perfectly, flawlessly so. 

He blames it for why he kisses your forehead, capturing how your face shifts into a blend of the sun and a smile. 

“C’mon, charmer, show me your ride.” 

Javi offers to take you to a restaurant, but you insist on something smaller—a diner, a cafe.

“Some place I can get something greasy and not be judged.”

He notices in the truck, that you tap your fingers when it goes silent. Head turned, eyes staring out at the passing city as he drives the two of you to the hotel, fingers playing an imaginary piano on your knee.

A part of him wants to reach over, smooth his hand over—calm you. Rid you of your nerves. Until he realises, he’s doing the same on the steering wheel.

The hotel reception area is small, to the point he finds his front pressed against your back. If you mind, you say nothing, occasionally shooting him a smirk over your shoulder as you check in for both his and your rooms.

“You’ve got broad shoulders,” you say when the elevator doors close.

Biting the inside of his mouth, he clutches the handle of his suitcase. “Y’been admiring, have ya?”

You only offer one word, and a smirk: “Maybe.” The elevator binging, the doors opening, you sliding out with your suitcase in toe as you glance over your shoulder at him as you go to freshen up.

His mind doesn’t stop racing until the moment he shuts his own door behind him. The pulsing electricity of you being so close running through his nerves.

You were here: all real and beautiful. 

Hand tugging out his phone, he's barely thinking as he fires it off. His reckoning comes several seconds later as he changes his shirt.

she’s beautiful, murphy Wrong number, baby. But thank you. 

"Shit."

He stares at it, your reply. His mind imagining, constructing the expression you'd have been wearing—it makes him smile.

she’s beautiful, murphy

And she’s got you using grammar. She’s a keeper.

fuck you 

Glad you’re alive and that’s she what you imagined.  Connie told me to tell you she can come with you next time you visit Miami.

I’ll keep it in mind 

You told him you’d meet him at his truck.

A sight he found almost short-circuited him when he spotted you leaning against it, sporting a tee and jeans, with shades hiding your eyes. 

Unsure how to greet you again, choosing instead to open the car door for you, watching as you slide your sunglasses down your nose, keeping your eyes on him until you got in.

Each time you peer at him like that, he swears he sees something twinkling, shimmering, in your eyes. A thing he wanted to keep hold of forever. See it always—never be apart from it. 

The thought rises and falls in his head, a brief thing he considers, but doesn't allow himself to overthink. It's the first day. Still, plenty of time for him to say the wrong thing.

Do the wrong thing.

Peña it.

Don’t want to fuck this up.

It's a phrase the two of you keep saying. Both of you pepper it into conversation and texts here and there since the moment you agreed.

Something which had been sitting in his truck with him until he saw you outside the airport, and now it's slowly fading to nothing as the two of you head to a place he’d heard was good. 

It's nothing fancy. All plastic menus and fluorescent light, but you beam at him as the two of you choose a booth in the back. Your eyes begin scanning the menu before he even picks his up. Too busy allowing himself another moment to note your nose scrunch and the way your eyes widen when you read something.

Drinks are ordered, and food is too, before a comfortable silence falls over the two of you until the drinks arrive. He mirrors you when you lean back, shifting his hips as his knee nudges yours.

“Did you get hold of your dad?” 

Smiling, he rests his forearms on the table—watching you stir the spoon around your coffee. Something you’ve been doing for a solid minute, having not put anything in it that even needs mixing. 

“I did. He’s good.” 

Nodding, you smile, eyes dropping back to the menu. 

Another silence falls, still a comfortable one. One that he imagines people have together when they’ve been dating for a while.

It doesn't need to be filled, but it permits a moment for the other to stare at the person across from them. 

To admire them. To appreciate them. Both things he's doing plenty.

Each second he's granted, it makes it harder not to slide around to your side of the booth and place his thigh close to yours. His body screams, practically calling out to you, both because he wants to soothe any lingering anxiousness and also to be as close to you as he humanly can be.

A feeling that makes him massage the bridge of his nose—

“Is this weird?” 

He eyes you, dropping his hand, wrapping it around the cheap porcelain mug before bringing it to his lips. “Being in front of you or the situation?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Both?” 

Shaking his head, he takes a sip before placing it back down. “Not for me.” 

You look at the table, shifting in the booth seat. A smile, one that feels secretive—that you’re trying to hold back. “Not for me either.” 

He almost grins, almost. 

Like you, he keeps holding portions of it back so it doesn’t fully illuminate over his face. Instead, he stretches his hand across the table, passing the sauces and salt before your hand finds his—fingers, so perfectly, slotting between his. 

“It feels… right.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “it does.” 

He rolls his lips, free hand stroking at the hair above his lip as he takes you in. How you watch him, how you sound exactly as you do in your text messages—that it all adds up.

From the little quirks, the nose scrunch, the brow, the way you smile. Each piece fills in the puzzle, forming a mural he never wants to tear down. 

“You talk quicker than you text,” you smirk. 

“Ay, hermosa.” 

Laughing, you tighten your fingers around his. “Kinda glad I’m here for a few days. I don’t want to have to wait fifteen minutes for a reply each time.” 

“You’re pushing it.” 

“I do that.”

He snorts, lips sliding up one side of his face. “Good job, I like it.” 

He sees it then, the way that you shift when you’re embarrassed. Eyes dropping, lips pinching into a smile as you wiggle, shifting in the booth. 

“You got much you have to do tomorrow?” 

Shaking your head, you look up—leaning back into the booth, tips of your fingers just in reach. “Not really. I have to speak to the sales manager—go through their reports, and then I have a meeting with someone from imports.”

You must notice his expression, the way his brows have slid into his hairline.

Smirking, you roll your eyes. “It sounds fancier than it is, former DEA. But, once I've done a handover, then I’m all yours for the rest of the week.” 

He points at himself. “All mine?” 

Nodding, he watches as your teeth bite your lip. “If you want?” 

Leaning onto the table, his fingers find the tips of yours. “‘Course I do.” 

Javi echoes your sentiment about not rushing things. Until you’re on his bed. 

Lay flat on your stomach, eyes staring down at the black and white squares both of you are yet to fill in. 

He hadn’t even thought about the crossword, not even as you split off from him in the grocery store—both having separate missions to collect supplies for a night watching something on whatever channel they had in either of their rooms.

So when you had met him at the checkout, placing down chips, sweets and a book, he arched his brow. 

“Turn it over." 

The assistant is barely awake, never mind paying attention to them waiting, still stacking the same stand they were when they walked in. So as he does turn it over, flicking his gaze down, Javi instantly sees the noticeable black and white squares and thick words written across it: CROSSWORD.

“Thought we could keep up your tradition.” 

It’s nothing. Not really.

Entirely a small thing, but it makes him move, hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he crashes his lips to yours. Doing so with a sea of gratitude and appreciation, heart doubling, thumping heavy and hard against his ribs. Hoping his mouth is articulating the sentiment as you smile against him.

It should scare him, terrify him to his bones at how much he feels so soon.

Because you thought of him, of this. This little thing he did that you now do together. 

That’s how you both ended up on his plush hotel bed, half the squares filled in—the easier clues picked off and written in a black biro you’d found in your bag. 

If he had thought you were impressive over text, watching your brain churn in person was something else. Your eyes flick to the side as you think, falling back to the clue, occasionally meeting him—stealing the breath from his lungs—

“37 is thatsthewayitis.” 

Each time you guess a clue, he finds he does the same thing. He raises his brow, watches you smirk, and then studies as you begin to etch each letter into the paper. The only noticeable change is how comfortable you slowly get and how much smugger you are. 

The voice he knows from the phone calls coming out more easily, your hands fidgeting less—body relaxing close to his 

“You think you’re gonna get involved at any point, Peña?” 

Nudging you, he smirks, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “You’re last naming me now? Fine. 38 down, stepup.” 

Handing him the pen, he takes it with a smirk, etching the word in as he finds your eyes still warming his skin. 

“63 across is Eddie,” you add, tapping the page as you move closer, shoulder brushing his. “And 52 is eerie.” 

“You, baby, are impressive.” 

Waiting until he’s written them in, he hears you swallow. The hotel duvet rustles as you move onto your side, arm reaching across, closing the book on his hand. 

For a moment, he just lets you drown him in your gaze—swallowing him whole, pulling him under. Unsure why he isn’t closing the gap, why he isn’t marrying his lips to yours—

“So are you, charmer.” 

Drinking you in, he releases the pen between the pages—leaning towards you. Nerves building, momentary panic that he could have misread this, until you begin to meet him halfway.

Then he’s kissing you for the billionth time today. The two of you moving together more seamlessly, all gentle and tender. Slowly placing his hands around your side, feeling you shift and move until you're under him, hands around his neck—leg hooked over his hip. 

Words similar to you’re perfect, almost murmur from him as the book falls to the floor with a thud. Them being replaced by words such as, you’re so pretty, prettier than he could have ever imagined, but you gasp against his mouth.

An array of other things are almost being kissed against your skin when you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, brushing knuckles and skin against him. He thanks you by running his mouth against your jaw, tongue drawing lines as you whimper his name—his jeans getting impossibly tight as he lets it grow messy.

Until he remembers—

I don’t want to fuck this up. 

Pausing, he lets out a breath. Eyes closing. 

Your nervous voice down the phone. Your little explanation. The fact you told him you like him.

Your fingers brush against his scalp, scared to open his eyes and see something other than want or adoration in your eyes.

I want you. He wants to say. More than he can find the words.

But he wants to earn you.

“Querida…” Tell me what to do.

“I know.”

It leaves your lips full of sadness, a sorrow tinged and wrapped around the words like a vine.  

Tracing your cheek with his nose, he lets himself enjoy the feel of your fingers in his hair. The way you twirl a strand around a finger before you slowly let them fall from his neck. Slowly, he opens his eyes, finding you watching him, studying him—wondering if you’re committing him to memory in the same way he is with you.  

His thumb digs into your hip, fingers tightening around you. “You have work early, too.” 

“I do.” 

Begrudgingly, he slides off you, hand moving to his jeans conspicuously, shifting himself as he does—watching you glance at him as you stand from the bed. 

Shifting on the spot, he watches as you grin, smoothing down your clothes. “You’ll see me tomorrow, right?”

“I will.” 

Closing the gap to him, you lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks... y'know, for picking me up.”

“Anytime.” 

Licking your lips, you sigh softly. It graces the air, more than shoving into it. “Goodnight, Javi.” 

Two words he’s so used to hearing down a bad phone line, he never realised how heavenly they’d be in person. For a moment, it makes him too stunned to think, never mind say anything. 

Just watching as you glance back as you open the door of his room, waving lightly, barely able to spit the same sentiment to you before it clicks back into place. 

As soon as he’s alone, his palms find his eyes.

Instantly, the world gets a little dimmer, his heart descending a fraction in his chest.

Turning on the spot—memories of moments ago, the collection of them he’s been mounting up since that first ever text, sitting around him. All of it vibrating, shaking in fury and disappointment that he let you go.

All of them blend, dropping like paint splotches onto a canvas as it paints a photo of you. Of the two of you.

It captures the look in your eyes when you see him at the airport, the warmth he felt sitting across from you, talking about families and childhoods—

What is he fuckin' doing? 

Something he can’t even answer, something he’s not even sure about because he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Shouldn't have let you leave tonight ever considering that by lying with him, you could fuck this up.

It rises in him, how he shouldn't have let you get to the hallway, never mind to your room. Because how can either of you fuck up something that feels this right—that feels more right than he’s felt in his gut in a long time.

Fingers running through his hair, Javi’s feet move, forgoing his boots as he grabs the room key from the desk. He practically yanks open his hotel door, key shoved between his teeth as his hands move to his buttons, beginning to do them up—just in case. Wanting to be presentable when he stands at your door, when he tries to find the words to say. 

While your room is only down the hall, it feels like forever until he’s outside your door. 

Focused on scrambling words together, Javi shoves the key into his jean pocket, hand hovering over the door, all set to knock. 

Only to find it vanishes from his knuckles. 

And you’re standing there. All golden. The back of you is all illuminated by a lamp in your room as the hallway light splays across your features.

The way you look at him dries his throat, steals his words. Especially when it's a softer expression like this one, no teasing words and just a simple stare.

You look every bit ethereal and unreal—more like something he concocted in his mind, than made of skin and bone. 

Even if he just saw you moments ago, had you under him moments before that—Javi is still tempted to pinch himself, the entire day feeling like a fucking dream. 

“I…” you begin. 

But he knows. “We’re not going to fuck this up, are we, cariño?”

You smile, swallowing. “No. We’re not.” 

“Good, girl.” 

It’s instant. Like it’s scripted, rather than entirely by chance.

You melt into him as he muffles his name against his lips. Reminding him that this is real, you’re real. 

The earlier worries of rushing things fade to black, vanishing, turning all to dust as he manoeuvres you inside your room. Kicking it shut, feeling your fingers wrestling with the same buttons he’s just tried to fasten—a gasp escaping when your spine finds a wall. 

“If you want to stop—” 

Shaking your head, your hand holds his chin. Staring into him, scorching your thoughts into him. “I was coming to find you. Just now, when you…” 

“Came to find you?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. Look every bit sinful, beautiful and fucking everything. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

Your fingers brush his cheek, that mischievous glint in your eye he’s caught occasionally across the diner table. “Show me how pretty you think I am, baby.” 

an: the next scene on friday is spicy. if you'd prefer to skip it, I'll see you on Tuesday.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena

[purelyfiction]

Room for Dessert

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F!Reader

Summary: it's date night for you and Bob and as always, he is the most doting gentleman you know. full of manners and always wanting to be up to expectations! after a gracious dinner, Bob reminds you there’s still a course you missed at the restaurant.

Word count: 1,658 words

Author notes: HIIIIIII i got this as a prompt from a prompt sheet ages ago and wanted to put this out for mr perfect in every way's birthday but i finished it maybe two hours after the day ended in EST time so!! a day late but, in honor of blorbo's birthday a very nice little birthday treat :)))) HEY THIS HAS SMUT SO IF YOU AREN'T 18+ GTFO || f receiving oral, maybe spanking? not sure it counts. some nsfw language for sure. Thank you @callsignthirsty for beta-ing the majority of this as always you are crucial for my writing :))))))

Your darling and sweet man had gone the extra mile for date night. A white tablecloth restaurant, reservations, bottle service to your table, and the whole nine yards. He’d gotten himself all dressed up just so you could do the same. He’d held doors, played your playlist the whole way in his beat-up classic truck – the perfect man. There was even a fresh set of flowers on the counter when you’d returned home. Amazed by all of this, you look back at him as you drift into the kitchen.

“You have really outdone yourself, Bo.” Your fingers caress the petals, looking over the roses with such delicate motions. You catch Bob’s reflection in the window as he comes up behind you.

“I wouldn’t call it outdoing myself if this is what I deem the standard.” Hands wrap so delicately around your waist, finding themselves at home as the two of you linger in the continued feel-good endorphins from the night.

You have work in the morning. He has training. Yet as his palms flatten against the elegant fabric of your dress, you hum with ease and let your head sink back to his shoulder. Bob takes this new spot as an invitation to pepper minute and delicate kisses up your neck, to your jawline. If this keeps going, the two of you might end up miserable and sleep-deprived. His hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh convinces you to ditch the bedtime.

“Your standard is far from the industry’s,” you tease, looking at how his blue eyes seem to shift in the low light of your kitchen.

“Guess you’ve got the top-of-the-line product then, now don’t you darlin’?” Hands travel from where they’d been innocently tracing little circles on your hip bones. Instead, slinking down to your thighs to toy with the hem of your skirt in this wonderful dress (which he’d bought you just for tonight).

“It would seem that way. And it’s still running like a dream three years later.” There’s an amused huff of air deposited onto your skin, hands busy entertaining the softness of your thighs, fingertips paving a path of goosebumps under them.

“You sure about that? No need for a diagnostics run? Make sure there aren’t any lingering bugs that might be screwing up the hardware?” There’s an easy giggle that leaves you while his hands busy themselves spinning you back around to face him, guiding you so you are flush against the counter of the island.

“I mean, everything seems to be in working order.” Your own arms wrap up around his neck as he gets impossibly closer, lips gluing themselves back to the skin of your neck, moving downward this time. One hand takes yours, holding onto it innocently as his tongue draws a hotspot to your skin. In one swift movement, he’s flattening your hand against his groin, smirking at the way your breath catches when you make contact.

“I think you’re right, baby.” He’s rock-hard. Instead of letting you linger in the sensation, Bob’s moving before you can even indulge in his previous action, hands gripping under your ass and carefully lifting you to rest on the counter. His lips meet yours for the first time since arriving home, his tongue pushing its way to its rightful place against yours. One hand continues to toy with anything he can find under your skirt, his fingers skating to the lace of your underwear, tugging at them with no real defined goal. You're like magnets, Bob's large hand hopelessly drawn to your waist, your chest, fingers desperately grasping at you through the padding of your bra. There’s a resistance as his lips pull back, moving back to the spot right under your ear. “You know, I just realized something.” The low baritone of his register vibrates the shell of your ear.

“Did you get a notification on your operating system?” The tease leaves him nipping at your ear.

“Something like that,” he huffs, hands still gripping onto you as if you will vanish if he lets you go. “We completely skipped over the dessert portion of dinner.”

“Was it on the agenda?” The response comes quick, but not nearly as instant as the following one. “Or is this fine-tuned machine starting to break down?” His hand is gripping your chest again, an almost punishing response to your question.

“This machine would like to self-correct if you’d just be patient enough.” He finally breaks the magnetic spell he’s under, blue eyes a heavy, royal color by this point. His hands easily glide back under your skirt, both of them working in tandem to tug the cotton from your hips. You shift to help him rid the fabric from your body, the cold granite of the countertop making you shiver on contact. With your panties on the floor, his hands drop to the counter, boxing you in as you rest on a makeshift pedestal to your most nerdy—yet flushed and intoxicating—boyfriend. The cocksure demeanor has begun to fade ever so slightly, uncertainty creeping in at the most inopportune time. “I- ugh-” his fingers are chilled from the stone when they return to your waist.

Your eyes meet with his, the softness of your boyfriend suddenly on full display as his hands make laps on your thighs, running up and down. A cautious hand comes up to his chin, forefinger and thumb gripping it. “Honey?”

This happens from time to time. He’ll be on such a roll, so easily matching the energy that you ignite in him, then suddenly shut down as if he’s rebooting. Once, he told you that he would get so overwhelmed with how many emotions he felt toward you—so turned on—that he would short-circuit and need a minute for all systems to come back online. Bob’s gaze returns to yours, no longer spaced out, hands pausing their continuous motion in favor of gripping at your thighs once more.

“Would it be too crass to say I want you to come on my glasses?” All systems go. Your hand shifts up to caress his jawline, carefully guiding his lips back to yours.

“No. It’s fucking hot-” Your answer evaporates into the air as you tug him close again, his hips slotting between your easily parted thighs.

“Should I–?” he gasps, eyes flicking toward the floor before they return to your mouth.

“If you want me to cum on your glasses, Bo?” You run your tongue over your kiss-stung lips. “Yeah.”

Bob surges forward, eager to lick into your mouth, claiming it before falling to his knees. You card your fingers through his hair and shift your legs further apart to give him more room to work with. “God, baby, you look so good like this,” he groans. The praise jolts you as large hands settle on the inside of your thighs, careful lips starting a trail of kisses from the top of one knee, up your leg, and right to your dripping center. His breath staccatos over your skin, hovering as a thumb carefully spreads you, basking in what he’s done to you. “Oh, this never gets old, angel, never, never.” The sound of his voice fades as his tongue expertly glides up your folds, making a lap or two at the top that sends your breathing pattern into a fit. You attempt to brace against the counter as he works, your hand gripping taut to the curls you adored.

You aren’t sure what code Bob has written in his brain that gives you the benefit of duality: the charming and beyond kind gentleman at dinner this evening and the absolutely rogue man between your legs.

“You taste so good, baby, so fucking amazing—fuck dessert,” it’s muttered against your cunt, eagerly lapped away to send your stomach spiraling. You have half a mind to let the counter behind you morph into a mattress as your eyes fall shut. You’re tempted to let the stone cool your skin from the burning sensation Bob is supplying you.

Instead, you jump, eyes shooting open when his hand comes to the outside of your thigh. Glancing down, blue eyes drill into yours, Bob pulling away with the hardest focus chiseled into his features. “Eyes on me.” Oh, fuck, he was taking it to the extremes. Bob’s ability to hyperfocus was an advantage and a disadvantage. Such as right now, when he is insistent on making you watch as he devours you, barely getting enough air as he fastens himself even more firmly against you.

As his tongue pushes into you, a shrill sound escapes you. You’re not going to be much longer, if he stays down this path. Bob just might get his wish. And he does, not even minutes later, your legs viscerally shaking, large hands clamping them to the counter to prevent you from locking your thighs around his head in an effort to stop. Gasping for air, slapping the palm of your hand against the countertop, your words are short off your lips, “Bob, baby, you can- shit- honey that’s enough,” however, he hasn’t powered down yet, with no intentions on stopping. When you try again, an arm crosses over your hips, pushing you down just enough to keep him centered right where he needed to be to tie the knot in your stomach again. You can’t help the way you squirm and writhe under him, strong arm gripping to your hips as he frantically swipes his tongue against you - until you break, nearly screaming under him, possibly - no, likely disturbing the neighbors.

You’ve laid fully back on the stone by this point, unable to will yourself to move after all Bob had put you through. There’s a pop of his knee when he stands up, hands coming to either side of your body, leaning onto the counter and over top of you. Glasses not only fogged up to no end, but in dire need of a cleaning.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x f!reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x f!reader #robert floyd x reader #robert x reader

[jobean12-blog]

His to Protect

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 1,776

Summary: It’s your best friend Jade’s birthday and she wants to go out dancing. Joel might not love the idea of dancing  but he loves you so he’ll go and when some rando guy gets handsy he’s there to protect you, just like he always is...even if he gets a little carried away (and slightly possessive)- but it’s all out love! 

Author’s Note: I just love the protective/possessive goodness and my lovely friend @pedritosdarling made this beautiful edit that you will see below the cut (surprise hehe) that totally gave me the right vibes. Thank you so much sweets! And thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 💕

Warnings: lots of fun, flirty fluff, tension, Joel is protective and maybe a little caveman-ish but it’s all because of the love that’s there, he’s also a cheeky litte sh*t :) 

The edit below the cut is not mine, @pedritosdarling blessed us with it, thank you love! 🥰🥵

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Son of a bitch, I wish Joel were here already.”

You mutter the words as you make another reach for the zipper of your dress but your fingertips just graze it before it falls out of reach.

“UGH!”

Picking up your phone you start to type him a text to ask for his ETA but you hear a key in your door and stop, dropping the device to the bed.

“Sunshine?” he calls.

You round the corner of the hallway. “I’m right he…”

The moment your eyes meet his you stop dead in your tracks and blatantly sweep your gaze over the length of him.

“Too much?” he asks, fiddling with the open buttons of his shirt. “Should I lose the jacket? I have my leather one in the truck.”

You slowly walk over to him, resting your hand on his shoulder as you sashay around him to get a look from all angles.

“Don’t change,” you reply in a breathy tone.

When you return to face him his lips are quirked up in a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body along his as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So I’m presentable?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

“Mm hmm,” you reply, letting your tongue trace your lips.

He studies you for a brief moment. His hands encircling your waist and then sliding teasingly up your back.

“You’re not even dressed yet,” he simpers, toying with your open zipper then smoothing his hands over your bare skin. “And you look perfect.”

“My zipper is not cooperating,” you answer with a demure lift to your shoulder. “I need some help.”

Your fingers slip inside the open buttons of his shirt and you drag a nail over the dark ink that lines his chest then slide them lower, hitting the first closed button and fiddling with it until it pops open.

“Good thing I’m here then,” he murmurs as his hands move higher, tempting the thin straps of your dress.

One strap falls from your shoulder and he brushes his rough fingertips over your delicate skin, producing a wave of goosebumps in their wake and making you shiver in his arms.

The front of your dress becomes looser exposing the swell of your breasts and just a hint of the lace beneath.

“You’re supposed to be helping me get dressed,” you breathe out.

“Now where’s the fun in that…” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to your newly revealed skin.

His fingers move from your shoulder and lightly graze along your collarbone, tracing the outline before falling lower.

“I know but Joel…”

You feel him hard against your stomach as he pulls you closer. His lips ghost along your jaw until they meet the skin just below your ear. He presses a soft kiss there, his warm breath caressing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “it’s still early…we have plenty of time.”

As you continue to trace his tattoos you can feel his muscles flex beneath your touch and he suddenly captures your wrist, drawing your hand from his skin and kissing your palm.

“Just a taste,” he murmurs, his nose running along your jaw.

Your phone rings, the familiar song echoing loudly in the quiet but heated moment.

“That’s Jade,” you sigh, letting your face fall to his neck.

His grip tightens as you place a trail of kisses along his throat before reluctantly stepping out of his embrace and turning to walk back into your bedroom.

“You coming?” you ask over your shoulder. “I need you to zip me up.”

You giggle instantly as you hear your own words, dirty thoughts running through your mind.

“I was planning to make you come but I guess this phone call is more important,” he mumbles grumpily as he follows you.

You bite your lip and eye him tauntingly from your dresser as you pick up the phone.

After hanging up with Jade and assuring her you’ll be there shortly you step between Joel’s spread legs as he sits on the edge of your bed, leaning your hands on his muscular thighs.

His hands settle on your waist so he can turn you around. He traces the shape of your body as his hands move higher to the zipper of your dress. He takes the small piece of metal between his large and thick fingers, pressing his free hand just above your ass as he starts to drag it upward. He reaches the middle of your back and stops, bringing you closer so he can press his lips to your skin.

The tickle of his beard makes your gasp turn into a giggle and you squirm in his hold.

“Sorry darlin’,” he says softly but continues tracing the curve of your spine with his lips.

He stands slowly, nudging you forward so he can pull the zipper all the way up.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he grumbles.

You spin to face him again and step back, wearing a playful smile.

His eyes slowly peruse you from head to toe. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever let you out of the house.”

Your mouth falls open and you press a hand to your chest, feigning shock. You start to admonish him but he stands and takes you in his arms, his mouth twitching with a triumphant smile before he kisses the words right off your lips.

“Do you see them?” you ask, searching the bar.

He grabs your hand and pulls you through the crowd to the back corner. Jade spots you and her whole face brightens in a smile. She rushes at you and envelops you in a big hug. You squeeze her right back and greet her boyfriend and your friend Dan.

After ordering some drinks you all fall into easy conversation. Joel is his usual quiet self but you can tell he’s relaxed and every so often he interjects with something witty that makes everyone laugh.

“Are you gonna dance with me?” you ask Joel when there’s a lull in the conversation.

He stares at you and grunts.

You roll your eyes with a huff.

“Was that supposed to be an answer?” you ask.

He raises a challenging brow but remains silent.

“Then Jade and I are going to go dance,” you announce.

Jade downs the rest of her drink and hops up excitedly, grabbing your hand and dragging you out to the dance floor.

You give Joel a twinkly wave before disappearing into the crowd.

The two of you work your way closer to the center of the floor, enjoying the music and moving your bodies to the beat. After a few upbeat songs, a slower more sensual melody starts to play and you feel someone grip your hips.

Before you can turn around the stranger pulls you closer and presses you against his chest. You jerk forward, completely uninterested and appalled at the audacity of whoever is touching you without even asking.

You turn on your heel and stick your finger in the man’s face.

“I don’t want to dance with you and maybe ask first!”

“Aw, come on honey, don’t be like that,” he drawls, a slight slur to his words. “You’ve been moving those hips so pretty.”

“Don’t be like what?” you answer harshly.

Before you can get away you feel a familiar presence and a deep, gravelly voice says simply, “enough.”

“What the fuck, man?” the stranger retorts with venom. “You trying to cockblock me?”

Joel takes a step in the strangers direction, the action causing the man to take a tentative step back.

“That’s my girl,” Joel growls. “Mine. So back the fuck off.”

The guy puffs up. “What, you want to start something?” he asks.

Joel’s eyes narrow and his body tenses but he instantly relaxes when he feels your gentle hand on his, coaxing him to relax the fist he already made.

“Joel…”

He looks at you, his eyes soft as he cups your cheek and kisses the corner of your mouth. He turns back to the guy and gives him a hard look, his expression filled with a dangerous promise that sets the asshole back a few more steps.

Once the guy is out of sight Joel escorts you back to the table, a protective hand at your lower back until you’re safely tucked away.

“Oh my god! Are you ok?” Jade asks as he rushes over, Dan hot on her heels.

“She’s fine,” Joel confirms.

“Of course you are,” Jade grins, her eyes floating from you to Joel and then back to you. “I’m going to get another drink. Want anything?”

You tell Jade your order and watch her and Dan head toward the bar.

Joel sits down, his long legs spread wide at the edge of the bench and pats his thigh.

“A gentleman would offer me his seat,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Sit,” he commands.

You purse your lips.

“Please,” he adds.

You do as he says and perch yourself over his thigh, squeezing your legs together when you feel the thick muscle flex under you.

“Happy now?” you ask when he leans in close and kisses your neck.

“I’d be happier with you over my knee,” he whisper against your skin. “But…”

“But we’re out in public and you’re acting like a cave man,” you finish.

“I still wanna knock the shitheads teeth out,” he grumbles as he moves his lips to your shoulder, carefully moving the strap of your dress out of the way so he can continue his trail of kisses.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I’m off limits,” you say as you turn your face to look at him.

“You’re mine.”

“You made that very clear,” you state.

His eyes widen slightly before he hangs his head with a sigh.

“I’m sorry darlin’,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to get all…it’s just…”

You tuck your fingers under his chin, lifting his gaze then brushing your thumb across his lips.

“It’s just what?” you whisper.

“I know you can handle yourself. You’re perfectly capable.”

You nod, your smile growing.

“I just want to protect you.”

“I know,” you coo, peppering his face with kisses. “And you do. Always.”

“But” he simpers, his mouth lifting into a wicked grin as he takes your chin between his fingers.

“Another but,” you tease, but the lightness of the moment quickly transforms into one of anticipation and need when you see the look in his eyes.

“But I want to bend you over this table, fill you up, mark you inside and out so everyone knows you’re mine, darlin’.”

@sstan-hoe  @beccablogsthings​ @justkinsey​ @hiddles-rose​ @laineyreads​ @blackwidownat2814​ @lorilane33​ @littleseasiren​ 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #biker!joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #possessive!joel miller #protective!joel miller #joel miller imagine #biker au #joel miller au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[seresinhangmanjake]

For the Drabble!

How would Jake react if eve starting only asking for you and would cry if Jake picked her up?

Dad!Jake Seresin x female reader

words: 1250 (this kind of took on a life of its own and expanded way past the ask, but this is where my head went)

Oh Baby series

So I picture this under a very specific circumstance, that being like, Eve is three now and has a decent understanding of stuff. 

She's in preschool and knows all about her parents' jobs and brags to her friends about how her daddy is the coolest because he's a pilot and she's going to be a pilot one day too. Basically believing her dad is the bravest guy and has the most important job in the whole wide world, until Jake and Mama sit her down one day and explain to her that Daddy is going to be gone for a bit, and he'll be missing some important event or something to Eve. Like maybe she believes in half-birthdays and convinced her parents to have a little three-person celebration for being three and a half. But now Jake won't be able to be there and so Eve is devastated and sobs all night, but that sobbing turns into anger because she just can't believe Daddy would leave her and Mama for so long (even though he has no choice).

Jake has a couple days before he has to go and Eve has pretty much been giving him the silent treatment, thinking he certainly wouldn't leave her while she's upset. So she's grumpy and stubborn all the time, especially when Jake tries to pick her up from school or tuck her in at night, and no way will she let him hold her without throwing a fit and asking for Mama instead. 

Then it's like the night before he has to go. Jake's miserable because he thinks his daughter hates him though you tell him that's not true. And he's uncharacteristically terrified that something might happen to him, that he won't ever see Eve with a smile on her face the way he is so used to seeing his baby girl. 

You tell him to go try to talk to Eve one more time, so he goes upstairs to her playroom where she's playing with her toy planes, and he crouches down beside her and says "Baby girl, I'm so sorry." He tries to touch her shoulder but she scoots away and turns her back to him and Jake just sighs, drops his head, and whispers "I love you, baby girl. Always." Then kisses the top of the blond curls, the same honey shade has his own, and leaves to join you again. 

Immediately by the look on his face, you know your little girl did not cut her father any slack. And you're so heartbroken for the both of them (and yourself honestly, because Jake leaving destroys you each time). So you walk him to the door and he kisses you for what feels like forever. And you don't want to let him go but you know you don't have a choice, so you unwrap yourself from around him and let him grab his bag before he starts over to his truck. 

But then you hear little, rapid footsteps, and you turn to see Eve carefully holding the railing of the staircase, moving down as quickly as she can while still keeping in mind Jake's stair safety rules. Then, like a little speed demon, she sprints past you out the door, screams "Daddy!" in such a desperate wail, and runs right into his legs, clinging to him like a koala to a tree. 

Then you start sobbing because she's already sobbing and Jake's got tears on his cheeks as he drops his bag and lifts his daughter into his arms, holding her as tightly as she is him. And he's kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear, likely promises that he'll come back, because there's no way he won't do everything he can to return to his family. 

When he looks at you, you completely lose it, because your husband is leaving, and you and Eve are really going to have to be each other's support to get through the coming months. So you walk over to them and kiss him and hug him so Eve is squished between you. 

But then he has to go. He doesn't have a choice. And trying to remove Eve from him is as hard as prying a drilled in nail from a sturdy wall with only your fingernails. 

When he's gone, Eve pulls on your hand so you can watch his truck drive away. She won't leave until she can no longer see it—not that you would dare leave either—and when you do finally get her inside, you give her the special ice cream you bought in preparation for your hearts hurting. You feed her a big bowl, and you watch her, knowing this is her first true heartbreak; the first of more to come. 

At bedtime, you tuck her in beside you, because you don't want to be alone either. She manages to sleep, fully emotionally exhausted, but you just stare at her little face in the dim glow of the moonlight, and you run your knuckle over her cheek like you've done since she was born, and you promise your girl that you'll make it through this; after all, you'd both done it before, she was just too young to remember. 

Every day. Every single day, Eve mentions her Daddy. Asks about him or tells a story about him or promises that when he gets back she's going to take him to Disneyland "because he should get a surprise present when he comes home." You agree. 

When you get your first video chat with him, Eve is bouncing on your lap, waiting for his face to pop up. She tells him every little thing that's happened at school. Her best friend got a new doll and she wants the same one but only if it can also come with a pilot outfit. The butterflies they'd been taking care of in class were finally released. She tried to name them all after the Daggers but the teacher said the whole class had to agree on the names, which she thought was "stupid." You scold her for her language, but you're chuckling a bit too. Then she says her teacher is having a baby, and "when are you and Mama gonna have another baby?" She wants a brother. 

When you tell her to go play—really so you can get a few minutes alone with your husband—he asks about that baby boy too, and you promise when he comes home, you'll work on it (after the surprise trip to Disney, of course. Or maybe during). 

You tell him you love him so damn much. He tells you the same. 

You meet him when he comes back, and when Eve spots him, she rushes off, weaving through other families to get to him. You catch up and you're crying because they're stuck together like glue, and that's all you ever wanted for them. He sets his baby girl down for a moment to kiss you in a way that manages to scratch the surface of all the pent-up need you have for each other. Then he picks his baby girl back up, and you go home. 

You watch movies and eat ice cream and when it's bedtime, Jake tucks Eve in after about a half hour of her talking his ear off. He loves it though, because he loves her and he missed her sweet voice so much. 

Then he joins you and you work on releasing all of that pent-up need and desire. And you're just about to fall asleep in each other's arms when you whisper "by the way, Eve is taking us to Disneyland."

---

A/N: this was my manic brain spilling thoughts

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin drabble #dad!jake seresin x reader #dad!jake seresin #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #tgm fic #hangman x reader

[saintship]

Ok imagine this.... force 141 meeting price twin sibling reader that's a retired captain but here's the twist they think reader is an imposter when in reality their just here to visit price and take him to his favorite restaurant for his break...

This is so old I’m sorry :,)

Protective 141 my beloved

“Leaving, on a jet plane..

Don’t know when I’ll be back again..”

Your soft voice cut through the music, singing along as your tires dug across the dirt road leading to the base entrance.

Your keychain swayed gently from the rear view mirror, a tiny toy soldier John had slipped into the pocket of your slacks the day you were promoted to Captain.

As much as you were at peace with retiring from your position, those small pieces of your career never seemed to disappear.

The security personnel were all smiles seeing your truck pull in, joking and teasing as they’d done for so many years. While your car was taken care of, you were lead to your brother’s office before being left to greet him. You listened through the door, only hearing the tapping of his keyboard.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

You grinned like a child when you heard a low curse and angry footsteps. The door flew open.

“You are a pest.”

“Good to see you!” You beam.

“Mhm.” He grumbled, though he guided your shoulders inside carefully.

It had been strange since you left, but just being in his office was reassuring. He told you what he could now that you weren’t in on classified info, and you told him nearly everything. The nightmares, the daydreams, the panic attacks, disassociation.

Talking to him always reminded you that even though you ached to be back in uniform, leaving was for the best.

You displaced his office decorations and spoke with him for a few hours before he hugged you goodbye tightly, reminding you that this was still a version of home, and he was here.

“Always here.” He said.

You closed his door gently, hesitating a moment to run your thumb down the groove of the door seam in thought.

“You lost?”

The voice nearly made you jump, though your years in service didn’t let you show it as you turned to see a young man in uniform, scanning you with a furrowed brow.

“Do you need assistance?” He repeated, adjusting his cap.

You blink in realization. “Oh, I’m-"

“This is a restricted area, mate.” Another voice joined the first, accompanied by an intimidating figure that had appeared from behind a corner. Not an inch of him was uncovered apart from his eyes, his build and layers making him look even more threatening. He seemed to puff up like an angry cat; amusing to your trained eye.

“John is my brother, I worked here with him before your task force transferred here.” You replied smoothly.

“Price doesn’t have siblings.” The masked soldier spoke lowly.

You smiled despite yourself. “Well, that’s news to me..”

“Need some directions?”

Another?

Your patience thinned.

“Look. I served here, he’s my brother. If you open this door, he’ll tell you.”

The first soldier eyed you suspiciously.

“Forgive me for not taking your word for it, uh..?”

“Price.” You deadpan. “My last name is Price.”

The capped soldier hummed, seemingly still off-put.

You sighed, exasperated. “Please open the door.”

“Yeah, alright.” The masked man starts toward you, and you fight the urge to skillfully escape his hold when he guides you by the shoulder back into the office.

“I hope you’re not lying..” The Scottish soldier from before murmured as you passed, and John lifted his head from his work.

“Claims to be your-”

“For Christ’s sake, release your death grip from my sibling!”

His exasperated tone makes you smile as the three soldiers flank you. The hand on your shoulder leaves along with a tense apology that only deepens your amusement.

“If I wasn’t, I think they did a pretty good job interrogating me.” You say lightly.

“I’m so sorry.. what’s with you lot, aye?”

He shut down the protesting of the capped and Scottish soldier with a raised hand, sighing as he brought you to face them.

“Should have thought to introduce you..”

Capped soldier was Gaz, Scot was Soap, mask was Ghost. Their apologetic shuffling of their weight made you comfortable already.

“It’s nice that you’re so..protective.”

You hoped they sensed your amusement and didn’t really think you were rattled. It would have taken a lot more than a strong arm to trip you up.

“They’re idiots.” John corrected, sitting back down.

“You served?” Ghost murmured.

“I did. I retired a few months ago.”

“You’re.. Price’s age?” Gaz’s tone was disbelieving.

“Oi.” John glowered.

“You can’t say that..” Soap nudged Gaz harshly.

“The exact same actually. Well..” You glance at John. “I am three minutes older..”

“And yet you’re the child.” John bit back.

“Why’d you never tell us you have a twin sister?” Soap gestured to you.

“Not your business?” John replied.

“Aye..” Soap rolled his eyes.

“You three should come with us for dinner.” You suggested.

John’s ‘No’ was overshadowed by the resounding enthusiasm of his task force.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” John grumbled.

“I’m retired, John, I work alone.”

He glared at Gaz’s quiet laugh.

“7:00. We’ll be at that little run-down near the bar.”

“You’re taking them there? I thought you were family.” Ghost shifted his weight.

“Good chips.” You and John both defended the restaurant of choice at the same time.

“Oh, they’re twins for real..” Gaz murmured. “Creepy.”

“See you tonight.” You gently shoved John’s head before excusing yourself.

“See you!”

“Bye!”

“Cheers..”

When you had left the building, the three turned back to John. Soap didn’t get a chance to open his mouth before John rumbled a warning.

“If you so much as think about it, I will tear you apart.”

#call of duty modern warfare #cod requests #cod mwii #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #john price #captain price #price #141 x reader #task force 141 #cod 141 #mw2 141

[nanawritesit]

Obey Me! Dateables: Dating a fem!MC with a Kid (Platonic w/ Luke)

Characters: Diavolo, Solomon, Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon

TW: mother!reader, light cursing, kissing, mentions of food, Solomon suggestively calls reader mommy bc he’s Solomon

Y/D/N = Your daughter’s name

Y/S/N = Your son’s name

——————

Diavolo:

You were walking up the steps of the palace, your suitcase in one hand and your tiny daughter’s hand in the other. After you and Diavolo had made your relationship official, he insisted on moving you and your daughter into the palace. The brothers were sad to see the two of you leave the House of Lamentation, but knew you’d be well taken care of at the palace. Diavolo would make absolute sure of that.

“Dia!” your daughter cheered as you entered the palace, releasing your hand and running up to your boyfriend.

He chuckled and knealt down with his arms stretched out to catch her, then lifted her up in the air and twirled her around. “Hello my little princess!”

You smiled warmly at how affectionate he was with your child, making your way over to them.

He shifted your daughter to rest on his hip, holding her with one arm, and wrapped the other around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “And hello to my beautiful queen.”

“Diavolo, we’re not even married yet.” you laughed.

“As if that diminishes my affection for you.” he scoffed playfully.

“Dia! I want to see my new room!” your daughter cried, tapping his shoulder repeatedly.

“Okay, okay, let’s go upstairs!” he decreed, motioning you all up the grand staircase.

“What about the rest of our stuff?” you asked. There was still a full truck full of your belongings that needed to be brought inside.

“The movers will bring it all in love. It’s alright.” he chuckled, taking your hand.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to being waited on.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“I will!” your daughter declared. You both laughed at her enthusiasm before walking down a long hallway to your daughter’s new bedroom. Diavolo set her down and opened the door, flourishing his arm to show off the room. You and your daughter both gasped.

“Oh my gosh! I love it!” your little girl squealed, running inside.

The bedroom was a little girl’s dream. There was a huge pink lace canopy bed, a wall of stuffed animals, a walk in closet full of pretty clothes, a tv and gaming area, and a chest chocked full of toys.

“I know it’s not much, but it’s enough to start out.” your boyfriend beamed next to you.

You whipped your head around to gawk at him. “Are you kidding? This is more than enough. In fact, she doesn’t need all of this.”

“Yes I do!” your daughter refuted, jumping up into her enormous bed.

You were about to argue, but Diavolo placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You looked into his eyes which were sparkling with sincerity. “We’ll talk about it later.” he whispered.

You nodded, sighing as you looked around the room. Of course, you wanted your little girl to have the best, but you also didn’t want her turning into a spoiled princess.

Later on, after unpacking all of your belongings and eating a fantastic dinner served by Barbatos, you had put your daughter to sleep and were unwinding in your new master suite with Diavolo. He was undressing at the bed and you were going through your nightly routine at your vanity.

“So, can we talk about you spoiling my daughter rotten now?” you laughed, only half serious.

“Yes, my love.” he smiled, removing his tie. “I know it’s a bit much. But I just want you guys to have the life you deserve.”

“We already do Diavolo.” you grinned, turning around to face him. “We’re healthy, and happy, and we’re together. That’s enough.”

He smiled affectionately, walking over and kneeling down in front of you to grab your hands. He looked you in the eye before he continued. “If you’re worried about her becoming a spoiled brat, don’t worry. There’s ways we can teach her to be humble and have gratitude. And if she’s anything like you, she’ll remain kind and compassionate towards others.”

You blushed slightly at his compliment, looking down at your lap. “I just don’t want her thinking that the life I gave her before wasn’t good enough.” you practically whispered, voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, my love…” he sighed, gripping onto your hands sympathetically. “That won’t happen. One day she’ll understand the sacrifices you’ve made for her in the past. But she’s just a girl now. I promise you, everything will be okay.”

“Okay, I believe you.” you exhaled with a small smile.

“That’s my queen.” he praised, kissing you on the forehead. He then hoisted you up from your chair and carried you over to the bed. You were giggling and feigning protest the whole time, until he tossed you into the bed and crawled over top of you. He began peppering kisses all over your face and down your neck, the last one being on your lips. “I’m going to take such good care of you both. I promise.”

You sighed in contentment, ruffling his auburn hair. “I love you so much, my wonderful Lord.”

“I love you too, my beautiful queen.”

Solomon:

“Solomon! Mommy!” your son cheered when he saw you walk through the entrance of his daycare. He began to run over to you with his arms outstretched.

You giggled at his enthusiasm, kneeling down to catch him. You picked him up and placed him on your hip, looking at him with an affectionate grin. “Did you have a good day today?”

Your little boy nodded, then glanced between the two of you. “Did you guys have fun at school?”

Solomon chuckled mischievously before answering him. “Yes we did, especially mommy.”

You rolled your eyes and hit him on the shoulder lightly. “Hush, Simeon! He doesn’t need to know about that.”

“About what?” your son asked you curiously.

“Nothing honey, come on, let’s go.” you told him, making your way out of the day care with a snickering Solomon slinking behind you.

“Mommy made something explode in potions class today.” Solomon blurted out, catching up with you on the sidewalk. You whipped your head around and glared at him, setting your son down.

“Really mommy? That sounds so cool!” he marveled excitedly.

“It was not cool, honey…” you explained, brushing his hair out of his face. “Mommy needs to brew a successful potion in order to pass the class.” You grabbed your sons’ hand to cross the street, and he instinctively reached for Solomon’s at the same time. He always wanted to be between the two of you so you could swing him up in the air.

“Well, Solomon’s a good sorcerer!” your son giggled between jumps. “Why don’t you have him teach you, mommy?”

“Yeah honey, why don’t you?” your boyfriend teased, glancing over at you with a shit-eating grin.

You bit your tongue to keep from snapping at him in front of your child. “Because, dearest boyfriend of mine, I want to pass the class on my own. I’m never going to be a good sorcerer if I always have to rely on Solomon.” you explained through gritted teeth.

“Well, I think you’re a great sorcerer, mommy!” your son praised, looking up at you admiringly. “But there’s nothing wrong with asking for a little help.”

You winced at how sweet your little boy way, kneeling down to take his face in your hands and place a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, Y/S/N. You’re so sweet and helpful.”

“He gets it from his mother.” Solomon grinned, smiling down at you with sincerity.

You looked up at him, trying to hide the smile that crept its way up your face. You then turned back to your son. “Come on honey, let’s go get some dinner.” you told him, taking his hand and leading him down the sidewalk.

“Or I could make us dinner!” Solomon suggested.

“NO!” you and your child both exclaimed in unison. The three of you all stared at each other blankly for a moment, then burst out into laughter.

“Mommy, can I run to the end of the street?” Y/S/N asked you. You nodded, letting him run off excitedly.

“So, are you going to let me teach you that potion?” Solomon smirked, putting an arm around your waist.

“Fine, fine, you can teach me.” you sighed defeatedly, leaning into his touch. “But I get to decide what we do after.” you winked suggestively.”

“Of course. Anything you want, mommy.”

Barbatos:

Barbatos walked into his bedroom to see his two favorite girls in the entire world curled up in his bed fast asleep. He slowly crept over to your side and sat down next to you, brushing the hair out of your face as he admired your sleeping features. He then gently leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, making you shuffle awake.

“Good morning, my darling.” he smiled warmly, placing a hand on your cheek. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Awh, you didn’t have to do that, darling…” you pouted affectionately, placing a hand over his.

“It’s alright, really. With Lord Diavolo away on business, it’s no trouble making breakfast for the three of us.” he reassured you.

You rolled over and shook your daughter awake. She sleepily squinted open her eyes, glancing at the two of you. “Good morning mommy. Good morning Barbie.”

You both chuckled at her nickname for him.

“I’ve made your favorite blueberry pancakes for breakfast this morning, Miss Y/D/N.” Barbatos told her with a grin.

“Oh yay! Thank you Barbie!” she cheered, immediately springing up out of bed and running to the kitchen.

Barbatos laughed at her antics over his shoulder, then turned back around to face you. He opened his mouth to suggest following her, however he never got to do so, as you had grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down on top of you, crashing your lips against him.

“What was that for?” he asked, cheeks turning a shade of light pink.

“For being such an amazing boyfriend, and treating my daughter so well.” you told him with a smirk.

“You don’t have to thank me for either of those things.” he grinned sincerely, shaking his head slightly. “I consider them a privilege.”

“Don’t speak too soon. I think Y/D/N wants to have a tea party today.” you giggled, pushing him off of you to get out of bed.”

“Hey, I happen to think I look fantastic in a tiara and a feather boa!” he shouted behind you, chasing you down the hall playfully. You squealed as you ran away from him, until he caught you and twirled you around in his arms. He placed a tender kiss on your lips, yelling away slowly.

“Can you guys please stop kissing and come eat breakfast with me?!” your little girl scowled from the entrance to the kitchen. You both just chuckled, letting Barbatos carry you into the kitchen and plop you down in your chair next to him.

Luke:

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” Asmo whined from the doorway. You glared over at him, your son still in your arms.

“In a minute. I need to say goodbye to my little boy.” you practically hissed.

“I’m sorry…” he pouted, backing off. “But Thirteen has the limo waiting outside!”

“Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” you told him, softening slightly.

Asmodeus and Thirteen had insisted on taking you out for a “girls’ night’ saying that you worked too hard and needed a night of fun. You were happy to go, although you were a little nervous about leaving your son for the night. However, the fact that Luke offered to babysit made you feel a lot better. The two were practically best friends, and Luke was highly responsible with him.

“I’m here!” Luke suddenly chimed from the doorway. He took in your glamorous appearance for a moment. “Oh, you look so beautiful!”

“Awh, thanks Luke!” you smiled, standing up and adjusting your dress. “Your timing is impeccable, I was just about to head out.”

“Hi Luke!” your son cheered, running over to him and hugging his knees.

“Hi Y/S/N! Are you ready to have some fun together while mommy is out?” Luke asked him, patting his back.

“Yes! You can go now mommy.” your son instructed, pushing you out the door.

“Okay, okay, one second baby!” you laughed, gripping onto the doorway in protest. “Thank you so much for doing this Luke. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble at all! I love this little guy!” the angel beamed, waving to you. “Now go have fun!”

You had a great time at the club, until it was time to leave and Asmo and Thirteen were shit-faced. You were sober of course, being immune to the effects of Demonus, and had dragged them back to Purity Hall with you. You decided it would be too hard to get them back to their own separate houses and threw them into your guest room together. After tucking them in, you made your way down the hall to Luke’s room.

You slowly creaked the door open and tiptoed in to see Luke passed out on the bed next to your son. Ever since you arrived in the Devildom, your son didn’t like sleeping alone. Luke knew this, and offered to have a “sleepover” with him in his bedroom so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed asking to sleep with him.

You smiled affectionately at the sight of the two of them so peacefully asleep next to one another. You crept over to the bed and placed a small kiss on both of their foreheads. “Goodnight, my sweet boys.” you whispered. You then walked across the hall to go knock on Simeon’s door and ask if you could bunk with him for the night.

Simeon:

“Alright, wash your hands sweetie!” Simeon instructed, placing a stool against the sink for your daughter to stand on.

“Okay Simey!” she replied, hopping up to do as he said.

You smiled as you tied your apron around your waist. Simeon had bought matching ones for the three of you specifically for this occasion.

Your daughter was obsessed with Simeon’s baking. To her, his desserts were the best in the universe. And she honestly wasn’t wrong. A few days ago, while you were all eating the cupcakes he made, your daughter asked if he could teach her how he made them. Simeon, who absolutely adored your daughter, was happy to oblige, and now that it was the weekend, here you were doing so.

“Mommy! Wash your hands too!” your little girl instructed you.

“Okay, I’m coming!” you chuckled, tying your hair up quickly before rushing over to the sink.

“Alright, are we all clean?” Simeon asked, drying his hands. You both nodded. “Okay, let’s move over to the counter and start on the batter!”

You scooted your daughters’ stool over so she could help, placing her between the two of you. Simeon began going through the recipe, teaching your daughter how to measure the ingredients and carefully dump them into the mixing bowl. You were the designated mixer, stirring the batter after each addition.

“You’re a natural, Y/D/N!” Simeon praised your daughter as she measured the sugar all by herself.

“Thanks Simey!” she replied, a happy grin wide on her face. “Mommy’s doing a good job mixing too, isn’t she?”

“Yes she is.” Simeon smiled, looking at you overtop of her head. He shot you a playful wink, making you blush slightly.

“Do you want Simey to teach you how to crack an egg?” you asked your little girl, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Yeah! He does it so cool!” she cheered, glancing over at Simeon excitedly.

He couldn’t help the flustered grin that made its way onto his expression, chuckling as he grabbed the egg carton. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. But it takes a bit of practice to do it well! You have to tap the middle of the egg on the edge of the counter, hard enough to break the shell but light enough so that it won’t explode. Then, you dig your thumbs into the crack and pull the shell apart, letting the egg fall out.” Simeon explained, doing the steps as he said them. The egg landed perfectly into the mixing bowl, making the two of you gasp in awe and applaud him. He did a little bow while laughing, then handed one to Y/D/N. “Your turn.”

“Yay!” your daughter exclaimed, lining the egg up with the end of the counter.

“Just be careful sweetie, don’t-“ you started, but were interrupted by the egg splattering all over the counter. “Hit it too hard…” you sighed in defeat.

“I’m sorry Simey…” your daughter said meekly, glancing up at Simeon with wide, teary eyes.

“Awh, it’s okay sweetie, really!” Simeon reassured her, grabbing a washcloth to wipe up the egg. “You should’ve seen the first egg I ever cracked. Mine exploded so bad that it ended up on the ceiling of Archangel Michael’s kitchen!”

“Wow, really?” she giggled, wiping her eyes with her arm.

“Yeah, really! It’s okay, hardly anyone does it right on the first try.” he explained, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll do the egg cracking just this once, then you can try again next time, okay?”

“Okay Simey!” she smiled. “Can I mix them in, mommy?”

“Sure, sweetie.” you told her, handing her the mixing spoon. Once she was occupied, you looked over at Simeon with an appreciative smile. “Thank you.” you mouthed silently. He nodded with a grin, cracking the rest of the eggs.

Once the batter was done, you poured it into the cupcake liners and placed the tray in the oven. Then you told Y/D/N she could go play for a little bit while you and Simeon washed the dishes.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you told him, elbows deep in soapy water.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled, glancing over at you as he rinsed a plate.

“You’re so good with Y/D/N. She absolutely adores you.” you explained. “And so do I.”

He pouted affectionately, setting down his dish to pull you in for a hug. He kissed the top of your head lovingly, then each of your cheeks. Finally, he took your face in his wet hands and placed a kiss on your lips, deepening it slightly at the end. “Well I absolutely adore you guys too. I’m the luckiest angel in the world.”

You grinned at him lovingly, then leaned in for another kiss. You didn’t care that your cheeks were wet, or that you were getting soap on his apron. Right now you were simply lost in your love for him.

“The cupcakes will be done soon, love...” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours.

“No, I think they need a few more minutes…” you refuted, pulling him back down by the collar to crash your lips against his once again.

#obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #diavolo imagine #diavolo x reader #solomon imagines #solomon x reader #barbatos imagines #barbatos x reader #luke obey me #simeon imagines #simeon x reader #diavolo fluff #barbatos fluff #simeon fluff #solomon fluff #obey me headcanons

[mushroomates]

the fellowship at a hardware store, from someone who works at a hardware store:

sam: is in the nursery!! goes straight to the discount/dying plants and piles his cart full of wilted and sad plants. likes to rescue the houseplants first, has a soft spot for perennials and citrus trees. is a nightmare to check out but is very sweet about it. dirt and leaves everywhere. like, everywhere. they have to sweep after he’s gone. surprisingly strong and hauls big bags of dirt.

frodo: enjoys home improvement!! likes to wander carpeting and organization, hunts for good deals and keeps tabs on the sales weekends. he likes to peruse the shower curtains and closet accessories. likes to refurbish old furniture he finds off the side of the road- currently fixing up an antique dresser to put in the master bedroom.

merry: doorknobs, handles, dresser nobs. he likes to pick out the interesting and antique ones and customize his home with them. he really likes the oddly shaped ones, he has one starfish and one pickle on his nightstand table. likes to joke about touching all the knobs and fiddling with the knockers.

pippin: is lost in the lighting department. he’s staring up at all the pretty lights and hypnotizing fans. likes the remote controlled lights, enjoys messing with the demos. also likes collecting paint chips. (pippins also the kind of person to get really high and shit in the display toilets.) does not buy anything, maybe some beef jerky and skittles at the check outs.

boromir: this man has like 80 projects going on and is remarkably proficient in every conceivable area featured in the store. he’s here so much people think he works here. he kinda does. he’s happy to advise you, lead you to products, and lifts heavy things for little old ladies and swooning maidens. he’s happy to grab the things on the highest shelf as well as carry those bigs bags of dirt out to your care. he is just a naturally pure and helpful soul. <3

aragorn: has lost himself in scrap wood. straight to the lumber yard, straight to the pile of damaged and recycled wood. once a month, he comes and loads up as much as it will fit in a pickup truck. no one knows what he does with it but he keeps coming back. there are several theories around the store. either he’s building a bunker, has a side hustle by reselling it, makes massive fires or he does wood work. alternatively, he’s a homeless man building his own cabin in the woods so he can live away from society. that’s one’s probably the closest.

gandalf: mixes his own paint. he doesn’t work there but somehow he keeps getting back there and making his own custom colors. was known to pull a miracle and turn gray paint back into white. no one knows how he did this. likes to camp out in the seasonal section. enjoys lounging on couches and swings for long periods of time.

gimli: is so excited to walk into the tools section. wants all the toys. likes power tools in a way that’s both funny and scary. really likes chainsaws and leaf blowers, possibly because they pose the biggest threat to legolas. often gets flagged out the door because no one person needs that many tools and he must be up to something. he always beeps out the door because inevitably someone forgot to take off one of the sensors of his many, many tools. he used to be nicer about this but lately has lost patience with always being stopped out the door, and often will make a show of waving his receipt before leaving.

legolas: spends a good amount of time in the garden. i imagine he gets enamored with the fountains and ponds rather quickly, also likes the statues and fun pots. also, wanders through the garden and samples the plants. by samples i mean eat small bites of it, and if he finds the quality satisfactory he will purchase it. this is rarely the case and he often just goes around eating small bites of houseplants.

#lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #legolas #lotr #gandalf #pippin #samwise gamgee #elves #lotr headcanons #legolas greenleaf #pippin took #merry brandybuck #merry and pippin #gimli #gimli son of gloin #boromir #boromir son of denethor #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #frodo baggins #ganfalf #jrrt #middle earth #the fellowship #the hobbit #the fellowship of the ring #gandalf the grey #gandalf the white #hardware #hardware store

[gasolineghuleh]

In The Alps

Kinktober Week 1 is starting off with a bang!

Pairing: Swiss/f!reader/Mountain Word Count: 1.6k Kinktober Prompts: Leather, high sex, DP, tail play, creampies, table sex, objectification cw worthy kinks are in bold, please mind the tags.

The curl of smoke from Swiss’ vape hits you like a semi truck, the acrid smell of marijuana mixed with the pungent sweetness of peach and mango— one of those flavoured mixes for his vape, you assume. His cock is already out and hard, one hand stroking it lazily as he watches you on your knees, patiently waiting for the cock you were promised… enticed with. Mountain lurks somewhere behind you, waiting for his turn with the vape and, no doubt, looking over your already nude body and admiring the view.

“Show me how ready you are,” Swiss comments through a heady breath from his vape, exhaling the vapor through his teeth. You watch for a moment as it moves up around his mask, your eyes trained on the curls of smoke as it drifts towards the low and earthen ceiling of the Ghoul dens. Mountain’s room is small and quiet, with a crackling fire lit along one wall, warming the room with a pleasant heat that smells of cedar. 

The room itself is occupied largely by a bed, ignored for now, and a leather covered table that’s painted into a chess board pattern. The leather is tanned and oiled well, bolted into place on the wooden table with large brass rivets that sparkle dully in the flickering firelight. A few lone chess pieces rest on the painted squares, halted in mid battle. On a shelf below the top of the table is a box, presumably holding the rest of the chess or checker pieces.. Perhaps backgammon?

“What are you thinking?” you ask, trying to make your voice sound as seductive as you feel, waiting on your knees for the next command from the two Ghouls who’ve decided to rut with you tonight— both of them are close to their heat cycles and you know you’re in for a good night… but where do you go from here? You’re already high, having been offered the vape before either of the Ghouls have a chance, and your head is swimming in the pleasant way that a perfect high gives. 

“Suck him.” Mountain moves forward finally after speaking the command, taking the vape from Swiss and bringing it to his lips as he comes to stand in front of you. His eyes meet yours through his mask and the curl of arousal in your belly starts to smolder in earnest. Mountain takes a long drag from the vape and hands it back to Swiss before he steps forward, putting his hands around your sides and lifting you easily.

Mountain swings you onto the leather coated game table, scattering some of the chess pieces and allowing you to lay down and drop your head off of the edge. Your sweat slickened skin slides along the leather surface in small bursts of effort until you’re comfortable, and your eyes meet the two Ghouls’ glowing ones. Within moments the tip of Swiss’ cock is there, tantalizingly close to your lips and just out of range of your tongue. Another silent command from Mountain and Swiss steps forward, allowing the head of his cock to slip past your already moistened lips. Swiss draws from the vape pen one more time, exhaling a long stream of smoke before tossing the device behind him, onto Mountain’s bed.

“You ready to be our little toy, yeah?” he asks, his voice low, deep from the smoke, and borderline dangerous. One of his claws comes forward to curl around your chin, drawing you closer to him with the subtle intention of scratching you. “Pliant and willing? A good little hole with legs?” Swiss’ claw slips, nicking your skin enough to draw a thin line of red. You gasp and in the same instant his hips move forward, allowing the head of his cock to bump against your lips.

“Mhm,” you manage to hum around him, already licking and lapping at the precum there. Swiss tilts his head back, sighing with pleasure and allowing his hips to rock against your face, slipping his cock deeper and deeper until you start to gag. Once you gag he pulls back slightly, smiling down at you and caressing the side of your face with a long claw in an almost pitying manner.

“Such a precious cock slut, ain’t she, Mount?” Mountain rumbles his agreement from the other end of the table, already positioning himself between your legs. They part easily, sliding across the smooth leather of the game table with no resistance— not that you were willing to offer any. Mountain’s hands slide up your thighs, digging into the muscles there gently as he opens you, the tip of his cock slipping between your folds already.

The Ghouls laugh in tandem when you wriggle your hips, the desperation for Mountain’s cock clearly written in the neediness of your motions. You pull your legs further apart, hooking your knees on the sides of the game table and lifting your hips pointedly. Another moment later and Mountain is pushing inside of you, matching the rhythm of Swiss’ cock as it slips fully into your mouth once more. The underside of his cock is smooth against your tongue, even as the ridges along the side of his cock rub against your cheeks— the same ridges on Mountain’s cock that are now pressing against your insides.

Mountain bottoms out inside of you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of fullness before he starts to move, rocking against the table with a measured rhythm. Mountain’s hands grip the sides of the table tightly, the leather creaking under his fingers and claws. In the same instant that his hips touch yours, his tail slithers along the side of your leg until the spade head finds the spot where leg turns to pelvis, love to lust, want to need. 

“You like taking both of us, pet?” Swiss asks from above you, pulling his cock from your mouth to allow you to answer. Instead of answering, though, you simply move forward in an attempt to capture his cock once more— fuck speaking, not when you’ve thought about this exact moment with your hand between your legs more times than you can reliably count. Swiss just laughs in response, acquiescing and slipping his cock back where it belongs. 

The tip of Mountain’s tail flutters perfectly against your clit and you buck against him, rolling your hips against his cock as you seek more pleasure. He obliges happily enough, fucking you in rhythm with the fluttering of his tail head. You gag on Swiss’ cock in surprise when his tail slips to your nipples, running across one of the delicate buds while it encircles your breast and squeezes. What you wouldn’t give for a ceiling mirror right now— for the opportunity to watch yourself, fucked in two holes and held in place by tails constricting and flexing. Another burst of motion from Mountain’s tail head and you cum, clenching around his cock and moaning around Swiss’. 

“One more, eh?” Swiss prompts, allowing his tail to move to your other nipple, fluttering and slapping gently. Mountain speeds his own thrusts, grunting every time his hips meet yours in a slap of skin on skin. You can feel the cresting rise of another orgasm building in your lower gut, and the rubber band of tension snaps as Mountain replaces his tail with his thumb, swiping across your clit with the measured pressure of a Ghoul determined to make his partner cum. You tip over the edge with grace, writhing underneath him as he fucks you through it.

It’s only a few more pumps from Mountain before he’s cumming as well, filling your tight cunt with his seed in bursts that align with his heart beat. He leans over you, grunting with every involuntary motion of his hips, pressing himself deeper into you. There’s a slight swelling at the base of his cock and you tense in anticipation, but he pulls back with a groan instead of rooting himself further inside of you, stumbling to his bed and sitting on it heavily.

“My turn then,” Swiss says as his hands drop to either side of your face. His claws dig slightly into the soft skin of your jaw, gripping tighter as he gets closer to his own climax. You flex your tongue against the underside of his cock, allowing it to slip into your throat with ease. Another press of his hips and he pulls out, stepping away from your seeking lips and stroking his cock swiftly with one hand. 

“Coat me, Swiss. Give me your blasphemous baptism.” You close your eyes and stretch your tongue out, waiting for it. A chest deep groan from above is your only warning before the first ropes of cum land on your face and chest. When you chance opening your eyes you can see Swiss, his head tilted back in ecstasy under his mask, fist flying across his thick shaft as he rocks up onto his toes. You watch his cock pulse one more time, a thick shot of cum dribbling down onto his fist and then rolling to the floor. 

“Fuck,” he groans, taking a few measured breaths and stepping back from the table. You roll yourself off of the table with ease, walking towards the bed and collapsing beside Mountain. He wordlessly hands you the vape, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke as he does so. “That Baptism shit was aces, you should tell that to Pops,” Swiss comments from his new position on the floor. His pants are already pulled back on, but he’s left his chest bare and you watch his muscles move as he leans forward, plucking the vape from your hands.

“You think he’d use it at mass?” There’s a small spark of hope in your belly for recognition when Swiss nods, pulling from the vape. Beside you, Mountain’s leg bumps into yours.

“More?” he asks, leaning ever closer to you. 

It’s going to be a fucking long night.

Remember to reblog! 💜

#the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc fanfic #lorraine writes #swiss ghoul x reader #mountain ghoul x reader #the band ghost #ghouls x reader #swiss #mountain #kinktober 2023