#i could just spread him on a cracker

[call-sign-bob]

Lewis Pullman

#lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #i could just spread him on a cracker #how is he adorable and hot at the same time #top gun maverick #top gun #can i offer you a low quality gif in these trying times?

[volensnolenss]

Birthday boy

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Satoru can't wait for his birthday while you and your students are secretly preparing a surprise for him;

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff

December 6th is a particularly anxious and joyful day for Satoru, because after it comes the number 7.

“Ahhh, why is it taking so long?” Gojo, sitting in his office, imagined different scenarios, how students and colleagues would congratulate him, but of course you are in the first place. He looked at his watch impatiently, disappointed every time he saw that only 1-2 minutes had passed and, unable to stand it, he went to you.

“It's better to hide these balloons here for now, but this...” you decisively guided each student, giving everyone instructions and actively participated in this grandiose event yourself.

“My lungs are already hurting inflating these balloons.” Nobara looked at them wearily, almost indignantly, “This is not the end, Kugisaki.” Itadori tried to cheer her up by tying ropes to them.

“Hey, let's switch places!”

“No!”

“Shut up, both of you.” And only Megumi, doing everything in silence, could not stand their heated fight.

A lot of questions poured into your address, from which you took a deep breath, “Okay, now we should decorate the cake with these candles- He's coming here. Hide. Quickly.”

Only you could feel his energy over long distances. It's a subtle feeling that runs through you, reminiscent of something bright and indescribable, unlike anything else.

You quickly sat down at your desk, taking out papers and pretending to fill them out; Nobara rushed into your closet, Yuji sat under your desk; Megumi, looking in all directions, stood behind the door, tightly pressed against the wall.

The door opened and Satoru came in, “Honey, what are you doing?” He was leaning against the doorjamb, looking at you and trying to find at least some clues in your facial expressions.

“I'm working.” You looked at him calmly and smiled a little.

“Where are the students?”

“They're sleeping, Satoru. I advise you to do the same.”

“And you want to leave me alone?”

He immediately wanted to approach you, making Megumi tense up, which is why he sent you rescue signals with pleading eyes, “I'll finish soon and I'll definitely come to you.” You stood up, almost hitting Itadori with your foot, and walked towards Gojo, hugging him with one arm and pushing him out of the office.

“Mmm, cool, baby, you're just the best! He spread his hands, surprised at your hardness and cunning, “I love you too!” You slammed the door and breathed a sigh of relief; you started working hard again when Satoru wandered back to his room.

He was muttering to himself out of curiosity, he wanted to know what would be on his birthday. And, entering his office, he sat down on his chair, looked at his watch and closed his eyes, giving himself up to sleep.

In a short time, you have done a lot of work, spending a lot of energy and nerves, taking into account all the preferences of Gojo: starting from the color of balloons, crackers and caps, ending with the cake.

While you were putting candles in, his students started to get interested in you and him.

“How long have you known him?” Nobara stood to your left, carefully looking at the movement of your fingers. “We studied together.” For a second, you remembered your youth; short but unfading memories appeared before your eyes, which remained with you forever.

“And what was he like in those times?” Itadori is sitting on your right,“ He hasn't changed much.”You grinned without going into details and continued to decorate it further.

“Is it true that you are a couple?”

“YUJI!” Megumi and Nobara shouted at him, but you just laughed, leaving him unanswered and signaled that there were only a few minutes left.

“Why not?!” He looked indignantly at his friends, following them and holding a firecracker tightly in his hands.

You were stealthily heading to his office, lighting up a dark corridor decorated with various trinkets, bright lights and everything to make cold December pleasant, because Gojo Satoru day is coming.

“Three, two, one!”

You went to see him, waking him up with loud congratulations and the sounds of firecrackers; from such suddenness, he did not immediately understand what was happening, but nevertheless the raised corners of his lip said otherwise.

“Happy birthday, sensei!”

Among them, he willingly tried to find you. Someone who can't be compared to any gift in this world. Among the falling confetti and sequins, several of which decorated your hairstyle, he went to meet you.

“It's your birthday. Make a wish, Satoru.”You lifted the cake, looking at his shining eyes full of delight, “I have nothing more to dream about, because I have you.”

Thinking for a split second, Gojo blew out the candles, which made everyone shout louder, congratulating him again.

“Do you want to try the cake?”

“No, that's not what I want.” And he pressed against your soft and inviting lips, leaving fervent traces of love on them.

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo headcanons #gojo fic #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

[skzooweemama]

Because this tiktok trend is really old now how would skz reaction to you wiping off thier kisses? Like because it's an old trend they probably wouldn't be thinking that's what you're doing.

gotta keep them on their toes right? i gotchu!!

oh my gosh it’s been nearly a month since i’ve posted anything i- 😭😭 midterms are over now, so i’m hoping i’ll have more time! still working on the rest of the requests i’ve received not to worry 🫡🫡

i hope y’all like this one! i’m gonna be honest, i didn’t have a lot of ideas going into it, so i changed it up a lil from how the prompt was. i think it turned out okay though!

enjoy!

~~~

Bang Chan:

"Baby?" Your boyfriend called down the hall, wandering from the in- home studio to find you in the kitchen making a snack.

You smiled as Chan rounded the corner, with bleary eyes and messy hair. "Hi love, did you just finish?" He hummed and drew you into a hug once he was close enough, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You giggled at his cute behavior and rubbed his back gently.

"Finished and fell asleep..." Chan mumbled into your neck, the sensation making you giggle.

You brought a hand up to scratch at the nape of his neck. "Sounds like you needed it, hm?" Another hum escaped your sleepy boy. "Do you want some of my snack?" Chan nodded, raising his head to see what you were making.

You pulled away briefly to grab the snack (cheese and crackers, a classic) and fed him some. Chan giggled when he realized you wanted to feed him and let you, blushing a bit from the gesture. Afterwards, he pressed a crumby kiss to your cheek.

"Gah! Chris!" You cried out, dramatically wiping at your cheek. Honestly, you didn't really mind, but you wanted to see how he'd react.

Chan just giggled, a shy smile spreading on his face as he pulled you close once again, covering you in more (yet significantly less crumby) kisses.

You squealed out and pushed at his chest, Chan’s laughter mixing with your own as he continued with his attack. “Baby!” You whined, playfully squirming in his hold.

Chan’s arms slipped around your waist and held you fast, his lips trailing down to yours. His warm breath fanned across your face, leaving you completely defenseless. Then he pressed a searing kiss right to your lips, leaving you breathless when he pulled away. You stared up at him, a dazed look in your eyes.

“You’re not gonna wipe that one away now, are you?”

Lee Know:

"Honey? Is that you?" Minho's voice was soft, but it still broke through your post-work haze as you toed off your shoes by the door.

"Yeah Min, I'm home." You called back, shrugging off your jacket and hanging it up. Your scalp was screaming from being up in a bun all day, so you worked on wrestling out the bobby pins while you made your way to the living room.

You freed your hair from its confines just as you came around the corner, finding Minho’s gentle gaze peering back at you. He offered you a warm smile and patted the couch, beckoning you over.

“Hi love…” You said softly, plopping down beside Minho and letting him pull you into his side. You buried your head into the fabric of his hoodie and took a deep breath. “Missed you…”

Minho made a small cooing noise in the back of his throat and pet your hair gently. “Long day?”

“Only the longest… I just keep telling myself that this is my dream job…” You sighed, turning to rest your cheek against his chest.

“That bad, hm? You wanna talk about it?” Minho’s words sent tingles through your body from being pressed so close to him. You huffed out a laugh and shook your head.

“It’s okay, I’m just tired."

"Okay." Minho responded, shifting so he could press a smooch to your forehead.

The kiss was loud and dramatic, and it made you giggle. Without thinking, you wiped at the excess spit his left on your forehead. "Minho! You slobbered me!" You exclaimed, looking up at your boyfriend with a goofy grin on your face.

Minho was staring back at you. If looks could kill, you would be at death's door. It was as if his eyes were screaming at you, beyond offended at you wiping away his love. You couldn’t help but laugh and sat up, pressing your own kisses onto his skin in an apology.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Give me another kiss, I won't wipe it off again!"

Changbin:

Changbin, your love, your light, your life, had been annoying you to no end. This morning it had been his excessive screaming, this afternoon it had been his covers of random songs, and now he would not stop trying to teach you his rap parts in one of their new songs. And he was a really bad teacher.

"No, baby! The flow isn't right, you miss this syllable," He gestured to the lyrics written out in front of you, "and it really kills the rhythm. Let's try again!"

"Bin! I don't get it! I'm not a rapper!" You exclaimed, feeling more and more frustrated by his criticisms. Plus his hand writing was so bad that you could hardly read the lyrics in the first place.

Changbin pouted, grabbing your hand gently. “Can we try again? Please?” You groaned and slumped forward in your seat, laying your head on the table for a moment.

“Fineeee…” You said after a moment. Changbin smiled at the success of his pouting and started the track again.

This time, the word flowed from your lips like water in a stream. You didn't have near as much swagger as your boyfriend did while rapping, but you didn't sound bad by any means. When you chanced a glance over to Changbin, he was sitting there with stars in his eyes. You smiled despite yourself as the verse came to an end.

"So? Was that better?" You asked, leaning back in your chair.

"Was it better? That was great! My baby is a natural!" Changbin exclaimed, leaning over the table to press kisses to your cheeks.

You giggled and batted at him playfully. "I'm not a natural! You had to help me, silly!" Changbin stopped his attack and sat back, and you took the chance to wipe at all the kisses he left on your face. "That's for instilling me with false confidence." You snickered, smiling at him mischievously.

Changbin gasped and let out a dramatic whine. "Babyyyyy!! How could you?! Do you not love your Binnie??" You just started laughing, heart melting immediately at Changbin's cute pout.

"Noooo! Wait I'm sorry!" You laughed, getting up from your chair to hug your pouty boy. "I'll give you all the kisses you want, no more wiping them off!"

Hyunjin:

"Yah! Stay still!" Hyunjin barked at you from his seat in front of the canvas, throwing you a playful glare. You sighed and sat up straighter, trying your hardest to stay posed how he wanted you.

"Hyunnnn... my back is hurting!" You whined (because he didn't say anything about staying quiet). "Are you almost done?"

Hyunjin glanced at you again, his gaze softened. You knew he was starting to feel guilty for keeping you sat there for so long. He looked back to the canvas and started to work more diligently.

"Just a bit longer, okay? You look so beautiful, my love. I don't wanna rush..." Your boyfriend responded, his voice much less harsh now.

You nodded and settled in, keeping perfectly still and trying to ignore the burning that was slowly creeping up your spine. You distracted yourself by watching Hyunjin work. His long black hair was pulled up and away from his eyes, which were focused and calculating as he worked. He was just too pretty. It was unfair, honestly, but selfishly checking him out was your compensation so you couldn't complain too much.

Except for the fact that the pain in your back was getting harder to ignore.

You let out a loud, frustrated sigh before finally, finally, Hyunjin put down that godforsaken brush.

"Okay, okay, I'm done for now." He said, getting up and stretching. You did the same, trying to quell the fire in your muscles. "Come here, baby." You looked to see Hyunjin with his arms out, offering you a hug.

"I don't feel like I should hug you after that torture." You said, crossing your arms. Hyunjin smiled and shook his head, walking forward to wrap you up in his embrace anyway.

"Too bad, I missed you~" He hummed, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but smile and melt into him. Hyunjin chuckled and stepped back, brushing your hair away from your face and giving you a loving look. You pulled a playful scowl back onto your face, which made him laugh once again. "You're cute..." He hummed, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead...

...which you promptly wiped right off, jumping up from your seat and making your way to the door.

Hyunjin caught you around the waist just before you could escape. "Yah! That's not nice! Don't wipe away my love!" He exclaimed, a playful lilt in his tone. You began to giggle gleefully, which made him growl in your ear. "Oh, you wanna laugh?"

You squealed as his fingers dug into your tickle spots, and through your laughter you cried out, "I'm sorry! I won't wipe them away again!"

Han:

When you heard the front door close, it was nearing 1am. This was much later than the time that Jisung promised to be home. You'd practically been worried sick, especially since he wasn't answering your calls or texts. But no, clearly he was fine- just ignoring his worried partner.

So there you sat, arms crossed, silently fuming as your lovely boyfriend came around the corner.

Immediately, you felt bad when you saw him. He looked so tired. His big eyes were bloodshot and framed with dark circles when they were usually bright and full of life, and he was a bit slouched as he walked. But still, he perked right up when he saw you, lips pulling into his big, gummy smile.

"Hi baby!" He said cheerfully. His voice would be a sharp contrast to his appearance, if it wasn't for the hoarseness from recording all day. You glanced at the clock once again and felt yet another pang of frustration.

"Hi Ji," You greeted, offering him a tight lipped smile. "Little late, isn't it? Why didn't you answer my texts? I was worried." Jisung visibly deflated at your words as he sat beside you and that made your heart wrench in your chest.

"Ah- it is late, huh? I'm sorry, baby. I got caught up editing tracks with Chan and my phone died. The studio doesn't have Apple chargers anymore, so I couldn't fix it and there's no clock so-," You cut off his rambling with a hand on his arm.

"Ji- calm down. It's okay, I was just worried, that's all. I'm glad you're home." You told him, offering him a smile to assure him that you were being genuine. Jisung relaxed, and you opened your arms to pull him into a hug. "You okay?"

He nodded against your shoulder, holding you close. The two of you sat in silence for a moment before he pulled away and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You gave him a teasing look and dramatically wiped at the kiss, attempting to get a rise out of him.

That did not go over well, and instead of playing along, tears gathered in Jisung's eyes and his lips immediately pulled into a deep frown.

You laughed in disbelief and pulled him into another hug, holding the back of his head protectively.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry! I was just joking, please don't cry! I won't wipe any more off!"

Felix:

"Babe, are you gonna finish up soon? I'm bored..." You whined, laying face down on your boyfriend's bed, phone abandoned beside you. He'd been working on his PC for hours and you just wanted his attention.

"Impatient, hm?" Was all Felix said in response, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

You groaned loudly and kicked your legs. "Lix, it's been hours. I'm wasting away over here!" Felix just laughed, his deep chuckle sounding way too teasing.

You lifted your head and scowled at his back, wishing he'd set down those stupid tools and come pay attention to your before you literally went insane. As you glared at him, an idea crossed your mind. There was an old Tiktok couples prank that you had been wanting to try since you started dating... What better way to get back at him for ignoring you?

Felix was hunched over his keyboard at you approached him from behind, focused on screwing something into something else. When you reached him, you leaned forward, pressing your chest against his back, and wrapped him up in a back hug.

"Lix... pay attention to me..." You whispered in his ear, you voice overly sensual. Felix tensed up beneath you, and you heard his breathing pick up in the quiet of the room. "Oh? Was that all it took?" You teased, nipping at his earlobe before returning to your place on the bed.

It took about .5 seconds until Felix was on you, pushing you down onto the bed and kissing your feverishly. You giggled into the kiss, allowing him to cage you in just for a moment before you pushed at his chest. Felix pulled away and looked at you wildly, his cheeks and ears still bright red from when you flustered him.

You held eye contact with him as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, giving him a wink as you did so. Felix's face was shocked for a moment, but then he smiled. Fuck, you forgot about how much he was on Tiktok too.

"Did you try to prank me? Why don't I make you regret ever wiping my kisses off, then?"

Seungmin:

Today was one of those rare days that you had off from work. It was a small blessing after a hectic week of project reports and visits from your higher ups, and you were thankful to have some time to recooperate. Unfortunately, Seungmin was still working and you wouldn't see him until the evening.

Luckily he forgot to pack lunch today, so you had the perfect excuse to cook him something he liked and visit him at work.

When you knocked on the door to the practice room all he and his members were in, they had all just finished a dance practice. Seungmin couldn't help the goofy smile that took over his face when he saw you, which made you laugh. The boys teased him for a moment as they gathered their things, greeting you kindly when they filed out the door.

"How was practice?" You asked once everyone had left. Seungmin groaned dramatically and flopped onto the small couch near the door. You laughed and maneuvered him so you had some room to sit too. "That bad?"

"'S fine, just hardddd... my body hurts..." He whined, throwing an arm over his eyes. You hummed and patted his tummy, which made him groan again.

"I'm sorry you're hurting, love. Do you want some food?" Your question had him interested, so he removed his arm from over his eyes and looked at you.

"You brought me food?" He asked. You were almost offended at how surprised he looked.

"Duh, you forgot to pack anything this morning. I wasn't gonna let my baby starve!" Your words were teasing, but genuine, and you watched joyfully as Seungmin's cheeks got all rosy. He sat up and scooted towards you, wrapping you up in a hug and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

It would've been a nice gesture if he wasn't so sweaty.

"Ah! You're getting me all gross with your sweat!" You cried, cringing at the hug and shying away from the kiss. Once he let you go, you immediately began wiping at your lips and trying to rid yourself of any residual boyfriend sweat.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna be like that? Wiping off my kisses?" Seungmin asked, giving you a challenging look. Without a second thought, you attempted to jump up and run away, only to be caught around the waist.

"Wait! I won't wipe them off again! Seungmin!"

I.N:

You considered messing with Jeongin to be a sort of art form, to say the least. He was clever, but he could also be gullible. That made pranks a 50/50 shot with him, either he figured you out immediately or he would fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

Today, you had devised a fool-proof plan to make sure that he would let you have your fun.

Couple pranks were something you had been wanting to try for a while. You didn't want to film them or post them or anything, you just purely liked a good, light-hearted prank and your boyfriend was a decent victim. There was one that had caught your attention back before you had started dating Jeongin, and it seemed like one he was unlikely to catch onto. Until you told him about it, at least.

It all started when you came back from grabbing groceries at the store. Errands were no fun to do alone, but since it was hard to go out in public together with Jeongin, you usually had no choice. It was all better when you got back home, though.

Jeongin had the weekend free from schedules, which was pretty uncommon. It also meant he was there to greet you when you came home instead of you waiting for him. He was sitting in the kitchen doing work on his computer when you came through the door.

A smile immediately broke out across his face when he saw you, his dimples greeting you just as eagerly. "Hi, babe. Need some help?" It wasn't really even a question he needed to ask, because he was already getting up to grab the bag from you before you could answer.

You smiled at him lovingly and set down the second bag. Jeongin set down the one he took beside it, and when you turned towards him, he captured your lips in a gentle kiss. You sighed into the kiss and cupped his cheek, drawing him in closer.

“Hi…” You whispered when you pulled away, still feeling those classic butterflies when you looked into his bright eyes. Jeongin giggled and leaned to kiss you again, just a peck this time, before he turned to start putting the groceries away.

“Was the store okay? I heard-,” Whatever he was gonna say next died on his tongue as he turned and looked to see you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand. “Did… did you just wipe my kiss away?”

You couldn’t help but break out into laughter at his words and the look of pure confusion on his face. He didn’t look remotely offended, just confused.

“I’m sorry baby, it was just a prank!”

“Too bad, I’m never kissing you again.”

“Nooo!! I promise to never wipe off another one!”

#skz x reader #stray kids fluff #fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #kim seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #skzooweemama.asks #skzooweemama.writes

[hubbvrd]

Little Burrow | Joe Burrow

In which little burrow suprises his dad during training

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Mommy! Mommy! I'm ready," y/n's son Mason shouted as he came running into the kitchen.

Y/n lifted her head from the lunch box she was preparing for her three-year-old son and looked over at Mason.

The little blond-haired boy proudly presented his mother with his Bengals jersey, which he was wearing backwards, but looked so proud because he had put it on by himself, so y/n let out a soft "naaw" before lifting her son up and gently tickling his belly, causing him to giggle loudly. 

"You did great, buddy. But we need to get your jersey on right, okay?" Smiling, y/n sat her son down on the countertop and began to put the Burrow jersey, which he wore almost daily, on him the right way around.

"Who dey think gonna beat dem Bengals? Nobody!" , Mason began to chant after wearing the jersey the right way around and snagging a cracker from the lunchbox y/n had just prepared.

"I hear you're ready to cheer on Daddy and the rest of the team at practice already?"  Y/n lifted her son up to put him back on the ground, where he gave her a big grin and then clapped his hands enthusiastically and shouted "yes."

Just like Joe, his son shared an enthusiasm for football, so much so that Mason had been talking about nothing else at times since he could talk, and y/n wouldn't be surprised if their son together eventually followed in Joe's footsteps.

"Football with?" , Mason asked y/n as she stowed the lunchbox in Mason's backpack and then tucked her cell phone and front door key into her purse.

"We don't need that one. There are lots of them at Daddy's trainings camp. I'm sure you'll get to play with one." She tousled Mason's hair, which made him giggle.

"Come on, let's go see Daddy."

She picked her son up and carried him into the car, where she put him in his car seat, buckled him in, and moments later left the garage with the car and headed to the training area with Mason to surprise Joe.

—

"Mommy! Mommy! Hurry! "Mason shouted excitedly when they arrived at the training ground and could hear the shouting of the team from far away.

"We're almost there!" y/n smirked slightly as she grabbed Mason's hand and ran over to the field with her excited son, who kept pulling on his mother's hand to show her to hurry.

From a distance, she recognized the team, which was completely engrossed in practicing a few plays, so that y/n and Mason could sneak up unnoticed, although y/n was sure that Mason would betray them sooner or later.

"Daddy?" , Mason tilted his head questioningly as the two arrived at the edge of the field and y/n spread out a blanket on which she and Mason could sit for the next few minutes, keeping Mason occupied every now and then when he wasn't excitedly watching them practice.

"Daddy's over there," , y/n said as she pulled Mason onto her lap and pointed her fingers over to the field where number nine was located.

Wide-eyed, Mason watched his father begin to practice a few throws, at which point Mason kept applauding and began to giggle softly.

With a smile on her lips, y/n watched her son.

"Hello Mason, hello y/n. Good to see you guys." , the suddenly heard Zac's voice next to her, so she lifted her head and smiled at the head coach.

"Hey, Zac. You alright?" Y/n stood up to greet Zac with a quick hug before Zac crouched down and gently tickled Mason's stomach.

"All great and I see you guys are too, right buddy? Are you rooting for your daddy?"

Mason answered Zac with a giggle and then began clapping his hands.

"He couldn't wait to get back here. He actually wears the jersey almost every day." , y/n said rolling his eyes slightly, which made Zac laugh softly.

"That's great, isn't it? That way we're already working on good young talent. Joe said he should play football soon too?"

"No," y/n said quickly, but had to grin.

"I see you haven't agreed yet," Zac replied with a grin, and then picked up Mason, who began to sing The Bengal Song again.

"Shall we go say hi to your daddy and do some exercises with him?"

Zac got a wild nod in response, so the Bengals' boss headed out onto the field with Mason on his arm.

"Listen up guys! I've got a new arrival here!" he shouted across the field, causing everyone to pause in their movement and look to Zac and Mason.

Immediately, the players' expressions brightened and they all began to greet Mason in confusion, causing him to press himself slightly shyly against Zac.

"Look, there's Daddy," he distracted Mason as they came to a stop just before Joe.

He lowered Mason, who moments later spotted Joe and ran toward him, stumbling slightly.

"Hey, Buddy," Joe, who by now had crouched down and spread his arms, greeted his son, who threw himself into his arms.

"Daddy! Daddy!" , his son shouted excitedly and began to tell him that he was wearing Joe's jersey and was eager to play with him.

With a big grin on his lips, Joe pressed a kiss to his son's forehead before picking him up and carrying him over to Logan, Sam and Tee.

"Hey little superstar," Sam greeted the little one and tousled him through his hair, causing Mason to giggle softly.

"Are you training with us today?" , Logan asked Mason, who started nodding vigorously shortly after, making the three of them laugh.

"Let's go then." With a grin on his lips, Tee grabbed the football and thus the four of them began to play a little football with Mason, cheering loudly for Mason every time he threw or caught the ball.

And from the edge of the field, y/n watched them grinning broadly while she held the cell phone in her hand and filmed them all for some time to have some memory of today.

—

"You really need to come back here with Mason" , Logan all but pleaded as he pulled y/n into a tight hug of greeting, then gave her a pleading look as he let her go again.

"Oh, yeah." , Sam agreed with him.

"Please," , Tee was almost pleading.

"I wouldn't mind either" , Joe agreed with his colleagues, after pressing a kiss to y/n's lips. He held the sleeping Mason in his arms, who had fallen asleep after an exciting half hour playing with the boys.

"Don't worry, boys. I'm sure Mason will be begging me to come back here every day now. And he won't stop until he's big enough to be on the field himself."

A big grin formed on the faces of Logan, Sam and Tee and they were satisfied with the answer, so after a short small talk they disappeared into the cabin and left the little family alone.

"That was really a lot of fun. I hope to do this a lot with Mason," Joe enthused. Joe enthused, unaware that y/n had prepared something for Joe and Mason at home, which of course had to do with football.

And who knew if Joe himself would be sitting in the stadium in a few years to watch his own son play and cheer him on.

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow #nfl imagines #nfl fic #nfl #nfl imagine #cincinnati bengals

[adnauseum11]

Mess Hall (John Price x Reader)

John explains his early departure from poker night to you.

1.8k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex (MDNI)

second part of the two-part scene

feedback welcome! writing smut is hard (lol) if anyone has any tips I'm grateful for them. Always looking to get better so don't be shy :)

Dinner was not edible, to John’s lasting amusement. The veggies cooked at disparate times, some too mushy and some practically raw. The pasta had been fine, John’s contribution solid as always. The flavour of the sauce had been the real star, if one didn’t mind the shrapnel you had introduced to it. Both of you had decided after half a bowl each that it was more work than it was worth. Your real dinner ended up being the world’s saddest charcuterie board, but John assured you he’d made do with worse. 

“Just happy to be eating.” He said, brushing off your concerns about him going hungry. 

“We could go to the pub.” You pick at the salami, perched on one foot tucked under you on a chair at the table.

“I just want to be with you, not up for the pub if that’s alright, love.” John’s honesty takes you by surprise, you glance at him but he seems otherwise content, building cheese and pickle onto a cracker.

“Yeah, of course that’s alright. You want to tell me what happened?” You ask carefully, not wanting to call back his bad mood but curious what brought him to your doorstep now that he seems a bit more even keeled. He stuffs the food into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, looking at you from under his lashes. It’s the most indecisive you’ve seen him in a long time and you wonder suddenly if you want to know at all. Then he sighs and pushes his plate away, seemingly deciding something.

“I was offered a contract. Walk on, ready to go.”

Your lungs freeze, and you forget how to breath for a moment. Your focus narrows onto the man beside you, who is closely watching for your reaction. The question must have been written across your face because he answers without it needing to be spoken aloud.

“I told them no, love.”

“Oh, thank god.” You say in a rush, your lungs sucking in a breath desperately. You can’t help the selfish sentiment, reflexive as blinking. Your hand lands on your chest as if trying to keep your heart contained. John watches you, a soft smugness pulling at his features. 

“Good to know you want me around, darling.” 

“I always want you around, John.” The bald truth is out before you can temper it with humour.

If anyone had told you a year ago that you would be dating your oldest friend and making heartfelt confessions in your kitchen over a crappy dinner, you would have thought them crazy. But here you are, a mere few months into this with your heart in your throat at the thought of him leaving for any length of time. What used to be routine seems devastating now.

“Is that…are you upset you said no?” You ask cautiously, breaking the intense eye contact to pick at your plate.

“What? No, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Can’t play cards being badgered like that. They ought to know better.”

Relief that you aren’t the root cause of the bad mood floods through your system, making you bolder.

“You are incredibly stubborn. One ‘no’ should be enough.” You agree, earning yourself a dark look. You smile sweetly at him and reach across the expanse between your seats to cup his cheek, leaning in to his space to press a soft kiss to his frown. 

His big palm slides up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place when you would retreat. He deepens the kiss before you can move, his fingers sliding into your scalp with delicious pressure. When he finally releases you, instead of backing off you follow, slipping out of your seat and crawling onto John’s lap, his thick thighs spread wide. He accepts your weight without even blinking, shifting you into a more comfortable position before fisting his hand in your hair and kissing you again. The delectable rasp of his tongue against yours makes liquid heat pool in your lower belly. You’re suddenly desperate to feel his skin pressing against yours, your smaller hands grabbing at his sides and shoulders.

Your urgency seems to bleed into him, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your back, pausing only for you to lift your arms before he’s pulling it free from your body and throwing it on the floor. You mimic his actions, pushing his shirt up to reveal the thickness of his chest. He grabs the fabric and tugs and it joins a growing pile of clothing. The dark wiry hair of his body whispers against your delicate skin, sending lightning bolts of desire through you, eager to be pressed against his heat. 

Without any warning John is shoving the plates out of the way, the clanking tableware startling you out of your lust driven haze. Before you can speak, he’s lifted you, depositing you on the cleared space of the table with a gentle tinkle as glass knocks together. You look up at him wide-eyed but his intense blue eyes are darkened with desire and locked on your bra, his fingers moving faster than your brain can catch up. The look in his eyes and the cool air has your nipples pebbling, biting your bottom lip as he leans into your space and kisses you again. You have a vague notion of him throwing the piece of clothing, in the next heartbeat both of his hands are on you, urging you to recline backwards. 

John’s hot mouth trails over your collarbone and sternum as you recline, your fingers curling into his short sandy brown hair. The wet pull of his mouth on your nipple has you gasping, arching into him. His hands have dropped from your sides to your abdomen, flicking your jeans open with hurried movements. He pauses long enough to cup your mound, the heat of your body making him groan low in his throat. 

“Fuckin’ hell love” 

His voice has slipped down an octave, desire making his cheeks and chest flush under his dark hair. Your body has a pavlovian response to his, anticipation spiralling through your limbs. When his fingers curl in your jeans and panties, you lift up automatically, using his thighs to balance as he tugs the clothing free of your body. 

He’s back on you as soon as the clothing leaves his hand, fingers tracing up your calves and thighs, making room for himself between them while his mouth blazes a trail over your ribs to the delicate underside of your breast. His whiskers dragging across your skin make you gasp and twitch, the tableware clinking together by your head with each sudden movement. When the wet heat of his mouth closes over your nipple again you moan, fingers pressing into the back of John’s neck to keep him in place. You can feel the backs of his fingers grazing against your low belly as he’s undoing his pants, twisting and pulling something out of his back pocket.

“John, let me.” You try to sit up but he won’t allow it, rasping his teeth over your nipple, making you suck in a breath and squirm underneath him. He releases your flesh with an obscene ‘pop’ and a smug smile slides across his face. 

“Too late, next time.” His voice is a rumble, one hand fisted around the condom on the base of his hard cock and the other landing on your chest, keeping you pinned to the table and spread out for his viewing pleasure. The slow back and forth glide of the head of his cock over the seam of your pussy makes you groan and hook your heels into the back of John’s thighs. Your hands curl around his forearm, your nails biting into his flesh as he presses into you slowly, eyes locked on your face.

The heat of John’s palm on your sternum makes you aware of how fast your heart is beating against it. Your rattling moan spurs John on, the rocking thrusts of his hips making the dishes dance by your head. The obscene symphony sends shockwaves of sensation up and down your spine, making you squirm as you clutch at his arm.

John hisses a curse, followed by your name and you can feel the muscles of his arm fluttering under your grip. The world narrows to just the two of you, John rocking you and the contents of the table with his thrusts, gripping your hip to steady you under his body. You can feel your body start to pull taut, your orgasm building in pressure and a whine climbing the back of your throat as your senses start to overwhelm. 

John slides his hand off your chest to hunch over you, putting his full weight behind his thrusts. He drops close enough to run his open mouth over your collarbone, panting hot breath against your skin. The increased pressure and change in angle make you clench around him, wrenching a low moan from his chest. The tableware crashes in time with your movements.

“John, please.” You’re begging mindlessly, wrapping your thighs high on his hips, your legs trembling. 

“You make me crazy when you say my name like that.” John rumbles into your ear, giving you what you want and sliding his thumb over your clit in small circles. It only takes a handful more thrusts before you’re reaching your peak.

Your orgasm overtakes you and you claw at the back of his neck and shoulder with your nails, desperate to ground yourself. Your keening cry bounces off the walls of the kitchen as your body clamps down on his, bucking underneath him. The throbbing grip of your inner muscles is enough to drag John down with you, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he cums hard, his cock pulsing inside you. He groans deeply, his grip on your body bordering on bruising as you both slowly come down and try to regulate your breathing.

“Holy fuck John” You whimper, aftershocks making you tremble and grab at his arms as he leans back, easing out of your oversensitive flesh with a hiss. His palms are stroking over your body, cataloging the shape of you, soothing both of your nervous systems before stepping back. He disposes of the condom in the trash and is back between your legs, giving orders like he never left. 

“Legs around my waist darling. Good girl. Up we go.” He’s gathered you against his chest and is hefting you off the table before you can process. Your brain finally catches up and you clamp your thighs around his waist tighter, your arms slung around his neck, hanging off of him like a burr. You trust him implicitly, doing as you're told, your brain still too gooey to do its own processing.

John checks the lock on your front door before carrying you upstairs to your bedroom. Both of you are too exhausted to give a shit about the state of the kitchen at the moment, curling together in your smaller bed. You try not to focus too hard on how suspiciously tight your chest feels when he spoons you, face buried in your hair with a contented sigh. 

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @syoddeye @cadotoast

#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #friends to lovers #this work has smut #smut #john price x f!reader #john price #captain price #safe sex #sex positive

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I Gave You My Heart

14/12: Hand Holding & Dry Humping - Billy Washington Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: grinding, p in v sex, horniness as a result of drinking alcohol

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Christmas was always a difficult time of year for Billy.

To most, it was a happy, cheerful time, when families would gather, stuff themselves with as much meat as they could manage, drink as much wine as they wanted without stumbling into the garden shed (as his dad did the year before, to which his mum still hasn’t let him forget) and pass out on the sofa before the King’s speech could even come on tele.

To Billy, as with most years he gathered at his parent’s house, it was just another opportunity for his parents, sister and extended family to badger him with the usual abundance of questions.

How’s the job hunt going? Not well? Aw, well there’ll be something out there for you. Just have to keep at it.

No girlfriend yet?

You’re still looking for a job?

Lana not here yet? She’s doing well isn’t she?

He felt that if he had to go through yet another year of it, he’d go ballistic.

Aunties. Uncles. Cousins. He hugged them all on arrival, but felt very little.

But this year was different.

There was an element of protection she provided. A buffer, so to speak. And Billy being Billy, didn’t want to lean on her for that buffer, but was relieved all the same when she didn’t mind.

How did she do it?

How did she smile through it? Remain polite, despite the fact that it was socially sapping and emotionally draining to be around this many new people at once, all bombarding her with questions.

She was the shiny new item to a mischief of magpies, and all his aunties were babbling like turkeys at her, taking all the attention away from him. To his relief.

He watched her with a warmth to his face, a can of cheap beer in one hand, leaning against the radiator in the hallway to warm his backside.

She entertained them with brief, vague answers, but still somehow managed to keep that smile to her face he loved so much. Perhaps he was just wavy from the alcohol, he couldn’t tell. But he did realise he was flushing with embarrassment when her eyes clapped on him from across the room, and he realised he’d been caught staring.

His heart rate skyrocketed as she excused herself and crossed the room like she was floating, the Christmas cracker tissue paper crown was still somehow perched on the top of her head, whether she realised it or not.

“What you doing here by yourself, Wash?” she smiled.

He’d almost forgotten to move his lips to reply, his face was so hot.

“Making use of the central heating to warm your arse?” she prodded with a cheeky smile, turning to stand beside him, pressing her own back to the radiator and sighing as the warmth spread through her body from the middle outwards.

“Have my aunties bored you to death?” he asked, smirking beneath the rim of his can as he sipped.

She laughed through her nose, “That obvious?” she smiles, “Nah, it’s alright. Much better company than my house on Christmas Day, anyway. At this point, my dad’d be a snoring mess on the sofa and mum’d be fretting about Boxing Day lunch”.

In his alcohol-addled state, the raising of Billy’s eyebrows was a bit unmatched, alongside the lazy smile on his face, “I can picture that”.

She raised her own eyebrow at the way he seemed to subtly sway, despite being stood.

“What number’s this?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

And she watched with amusement as the cogs inside Billy’s head visibly turned, trying to form a memory of how many cans he’d swiped from his dad’s fridge before now.

“Um…4? I think?”

“You think?”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh out of embarrassment.

The heat once again rose to his chiselled features, something she would never not find endearing about him. Sometimes it was worth saying something risque or embarrassing just to see this beanpole of a man blush.

His baby blue’s glimmered with drunkenness as he looked over at her, for a moment searching her face as if he was ticking off all boxes that were labelled with her features. Her eyes. Her lips. The gentle slant of her cheeks. The shape of her nose. How her dimples sank in when she smiled lovingly at him.

He was sure nobody in his life had ever looked at him the way she did.

It made him feel good and also like he wanted to hide at the same time.

“You wanna get home soon?”

He nodded without even thinking. God, he fucking loved her for that. The way she was able to know when he was socially complete without him having to say it.

Leaving in any British household, especially on Christmas Day, is an event in itself.

It takes twenty minutes minimum, to pack up all the things you have, piling the presents you’ve received into various bags for life, and giving a ceremonial hug and a peck on the cheek to all who are still awake and present. Often people who you’d circle back to once you finally made it to the door, graced with yet another hug goodbye.

It was solemnly enchanting, the clear roads on Christmas Day, the ice that clung to the side of the roads, and the grit that coated the middle. Christmas music blared through her radio, muffled by static, and about the sixtieth time that BBC Radio 1 had played ‘All I Want For Christmas is You’. And they’d both laughed, delirious from over-socialising, when she’d realised only halfway through the drive back home, that she was still wearing the shoddy tissue paper crown.

“Was Santa good to you this year?” she’d asked jokingly, briefly turning her head from the red light.

He huffed a laugh, “He’s about to be when we get home”.

She rolled her eyes, shifting the car into first, but unable to help the smile that rose to her face.

Billy’s flat was donned with the basics of Christmas decorations.

Fairy lights along the headboard of the bed, a tiny plastic tree on the side table, several tea lights along the TV stand and finally, the pièce de résistance, the scented faux pine candle sat in the middle of the coffee table. Lit and extinguished this morning, but still managed to fill the room with a pleasant woody fragrance.

Billy talked big when he was a bit drunk. But she knew him better than that.

And though Billy might have wanted to tear all her clothes off, pull her to the nearest flat surface and let her know all he’d wanted for Christmas, all he was able to do was snuggle in behind her on the sofa, throw one arm around her waist and kiss the top of her head as his brain swam.

It was just noise mostly, something to fill the comfortable silence as the late afternoon became late evening, the tea lights illuminating the front room with a pleasant atmosphere. She was sure he’d fallen asleep, the hand that was over her middle now firmly in hers, his long digits intertwined with her small ones. Not that she minded. She simply held his hand, using her other to scroll through her phone with the volume turned down so he wouldn’t wake up.

She clicked her phone off when she felt his arm tighten around her middle, tugging her back closer to him and turned her head up to smile at him, “Billy”.

His eyes were closed as if half asleep, his dark blonde eyelashes moving to betray the fact that he was indeed awake, but he only hummed, his hips chasing hers to grind against her backside. The alcohol had fuelled his desire, but had hindered his actual ability to act on said desires, and he made a noise of frustration when his body hadn’t reacted the way he wanted.

“...‘m sorry…”, he mumbled quietly, speech slurred endearingly.

“For what?”

“...’ts my little soldier…can’t…”

She had to press her lips together to stifle a laugh, not used to or remembering Billy being this loose-lipped under the influence of alcohol. All the while he was still pressing his soft and clothed length against your backside, willing his ‘little soldier’ to life, to no avail.

It was both endearing and amusing, that even in the state Billy was in he was trying, and god he really was trying, to initiate intimacy, fully knowing that the likelihood was that he wasn’t going to be able to. Much much too drunk to even think straight.

“It’s alright, Billy, just go to sleep, ok?”

He huffed much like a child would when you refused him something.

“...but it’s Christmas…”

“Sex on Christmas Day is no better than sex on any other day. Just get some sleep, okay?”

He sighed, slumping his head onto the cushion in something akin to defeat, fingers still threaded through hers on her stomach. But not a moment later, she heard his steady breaths and threw the blanket over him as well as her and laid her head down as well.

Waves of consciousness kept pulling her to the surface, a pleased sound falling from her lips as she parted them, feeling all warm both against her flesh and tugging in her gut as well.

She could feel Billy’s hot puffs of air against her neck and ear, the hair there reacting to his quickened breaths as they stood on end, her brain failing to realise quickly enough what was going on, and why her boyfriend lay behind her, was breathing so quickly.

That was until she heard him whimper, a stuttered moan following it.

“Mm…Billy?..”

Her eyelashes fluttered open, and instead of the warm ropes of sleep tugging her down it was something else, something hardpressing against her and chasing friction. His grip on her hands was so tight, his knuckles were almost white from the effort of holding back.

By now the candles had all burned out, save one, and the sky outside was pitch black, with the smallest flurry of snow decorating the darkness.

Hours had gone by.

She jumped when she felt his hands, colder than she expected, dip beneath her jumper and shirt, pressing his large palm against the flesh of her stomach, his little finger teasingly sliding beneath the waistband of her underwear.

“Sorry - babe, I need you…”

She could feel how impossibly hard he was through his jeans, chasing friction with every cant of his hips, using one hand to unzip them with difficulty as his other held onto her like she might disappear.

Freeing his length from his boxers, Billy almost moaned aloud when he saw that she was pulling her own jeans down as well, having woken more than aroused at the idea he was grinding against her searching for pleasure. So he made use of his hand and turned her face towards him, enveloping her soft, puffy lips with his own in a warm, wet kiss, not pausing for a moment to think about anything else other than having her right now, as he’d dreamt of doing since Christmas morning.

She nearly gasped when he slid his thick manhood into her, sheathing himself inside her in one, smooth confident movement, as if nothing, nothing, was going to stop him from basking in the warmth she offered.

In this position, with her thighs squeezed together, and his hand on her hips, pulling her back to him with each desperate thrust, it felt like so much more. And every blow to the sweet spot that lay deep inside her felt so utterly maddening, that her brain, still rising from sleep, felt like it was being shaken around.

She came with a choked cry, her grip on his wrist where his nimble fingers were applying frustratingly little pressure to her bud as he continued to piston into her. And when she was so close to begging him to stop from overstimulation, Billy leaned back a little, his teeth grazing against her neck and one hand palming her backside to push himself deeper as he too came with a long, broken whine.

His chest moved against her back with his heavy breathing, sucking in air into his lungs after the craze he’d just fallen over.

Billy pressed kisses to her neck and jaw in a sort of admiration, moving slightly with his length still buried inside her, eliciting a whimper from her as well as the friction.

She felt his eyelashes move against her cheek when he opened his eyes, “Did we really just shag with Die Hard on in the background?” he chuckled breathily.

This time, she couldn’t hold back her tired laugh, swatting his arm playfully, “you’re such a dickhead.”

He smiled wearily, turning her face once more to capture her swollen lips in a kiss, more tender this time without the urgency of desire.

“What was that about Christmas Day sex?” he prodded.

She furrowed her brows and double-tapped her phone.

23:49.

Cheeky fucker.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @fan-goddess

#12 days of smuff #smuffmas #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #billy washington x oc #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington x y/n #billy washington smut #trigger point billy washington #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #billy washington fluff #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfic

[ijustreallylovethem]

ceilings

this ended up being way shorter than i was hoping it would be but i don’t know what else to add without droning on. i also write this at 4 am so it could be shit, idk. but i hope you enjoy, and please don’t kill me.

jack hughes x reader

words: 1,563

masterlist

it started as a light sprinkle. that’s the worst you hoped it would get, considering the weather forecast hadn’t called for any rain. you frowned at the sky from under the protection of the gazebo, popping another grape into your mouth.

“good thing i planned this under some cover,” jack spoke from next to you. you turned to smile at him as you continued chewing your grape.

“hopefully it doesn’t get any worse,” you responded. you reached between you, picking up a cracker, slice of cheese, and slice of sausage, from the containers spread out on the blanket you sat on. you made a small sandwich and took a bite, looking back to the sky.

“hopefully. or at least if it does, it’s not until after we eat some more. i’m starving.” he leans in and grabs some food from the spread, basically moaning when he bit into it. “i did so good at planning this date.”

you only giggled at him, knowing he wasn’t bragging. the smile and wink he sent your way after his statement just proved that. he just wanted to make you laugh, and he had succeeded. unfortunately, the smile was wiped from your face when you heard thunder in the distance.

“i hate to cut this short but we should probably pack this up if it’s thundering.” jack shook his head.

“it’s far away. it’s hardly even raining. we’ll be fine.” jack ate his words only two minutes later, when the light sprinkle changed in a second to a torrential downpour. you shrieked at the sudden change in weather, immediately turning to start covering the food. jack did the same, both of you working quickly to get it all put away before the wind blew too much rainwater into the containers. he shoved everything back into the basket he brought and you attempted to pick up and wring out the blanket.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you ran after him through the rain, trying to get back to the car as soon as possible. you both climbed in and slammed the doors, taking a second to catch your breath and let your brains catch up. you turned to look at him first and the movement caused him to look at you. you burst into giggles at his soaked appearance and he couldn’t help but laugh with you.

“well that didn’t turn out well, did it?” you shook your head, tossing the blanket into the backseat. jack was still holding the basket of food and he handed it over to you.

“we may be soaking wet but i’m still having a great time.” you opened the basket, pulling out the container of grapes and opening it. they didn’t seem to be too wet so you popped one into your mouth. “let’s just finish the picnic in here,” you suggested. he looked out the windshield, nodding.

“yeah, i probably shouldn’t drive until it calms down a bit anyway. we definitely need to get the heat going though.” he shivered as he lifted his hand to put the key in the ignition. turning on the car and adjusting the temperature. you handed him the grapes and did some rearranging so you could set the basket between your feet. your shoes squeaked as you moved it, causing you to laugh.

“even my shoes are soaked.” you reached down and pulled out the meat and cheese, placing them in the center console. before you could lean back over for more, jack cupped your cheek and pulled you halfway across the car to meet his lips.

“thanks for not getting mad,” he said quietly when he pulled away. your brows furrowed, confused.

“why would i be mad? you can’t control the weather.” he just smiled, reaching out to pull the lid off the cheese container.

~~~

you sighed, settling into jack’s side. there was a small smile on your face, reminiscing on the actions you had finished moments prior. his fingers raked through your hair and he held you closer. he pressed a kiss to your hairline, causing you to open the eyes and look up at him.

“you feel okay?” really, you felt more than okay. you felt amazing, you felt euphoric. but you settled for just giving him a nod.

“yeah, i’m good.” his thumb rubbed circles into the small of your back, and mixed with the heat of the moment leaving your body, a shiver ran up your body.

“you wanna get some clothes on and get under the blankets?” he asked softly. you shook your head.

“don’t wanna move. just wanna lay here with you.” he smiled, though you couldn’t see it with your eyes closed and your head buried in his chest.

“come on, what kind of person would i be if i let you freeze?” he sat up carefully, so you would cooperate with him and not immediately fall off his chest when he moved. you whined but opened your eyes. he tossed you a shirt and some sweats and a moment later you were making your way into the bathroom to pee and get dressed. you came out a few minutes later to see him looking disappointed.

“what’s wrong?”

“i have to go in for a meeting. i have no clue i’ll long i’ll be there.”

“oh.” now you were disappointed to. he made his way over to you, pulling your body flush against his.

“i’ll drive you home and then i’ll call you tonight okay? i’ll even let you keep my clothes. how does that sound?” you nodded, a faint smile on your lips at the promise of taking his clothes with you. he kissed you gently, both hands cupping your cheeks.

he gathered what he needed and you grabbed your purse and then you were both out the door. you waited for him to lock it behind you and he jogged ahead to open the car door for you. you kissed him as you got in, now smiling widely.

you hadn’t been seeing jack for long, only a couple of months, but he had proven over and over again that he was the one. he remembered your favorite fruit and always opened your doors. he knew how to communicate if he was going to be late or wanted to take you out. you knew you loved him, even though you had yet to say it. you hoped he had managed to catch on to all the times you showed him through actions rather than said it in words. you stayed up late to watch his west coast games and talk to him after, even if you had work in the morning. you made him meals after games that were especially tiring so he didn’t have to order takeout yet again. the biggest step of all, you had just let him take your virginity.

he was gentle the entire time, constantly asking if you were okay and if you were still sure about all of this. he held you hand when it hurt and brushed the hair out of your face so he could kiss your cheeks. you really couldn’t have dreamt a better first time. you looked over at him as he drove, just admiring the way he looked when he was focused on the road. his hand slid across the console, resting halfway up your thigh. you smile, letting your fingers lace with his, your intertwined hands resting on your thigh.

“i was wondering if you wanted to come to my game tomorrow,” jack asked when he pulled into your apartment parking lot.

“really?” he nods, smiling over at you after he parked. “i’d love that!”

“yeah?” you nod excitedly. he leans over, pressing his lips to yours. you’re ready then to tell him how you feel. to pour your entire heart out to him right there in the passenger seat of his car. but your thoughts are disrupted as you hear a loud series of beeps from the radio. he pulls away, sitting back in his seat. you both turn to look at the radio confused, another loud series of beeps coming from it.

your eyes open, your hand flying for your phone sitting on the nightstand to try and silence your alarm. you sit up, looking around and finding yourself in your own bed in your own room. a look to the side confirms what you already knew, you were alone. you groan, letting your hands come up and rub at your eyes for a moment before you get up and head to the bathroom.

a dream. all of it flashes of a dream. you don’t have a boyfriend, said boyfriend wasn’t jack hughes, and jack hughes doesn’t even know you exist. it had all felt so realistic, it felt like part of your life was missing now that you had woken up. you splashed some water on your face, trying to snap yourself out of the dream completely, and to block the memories from your mind. you may be in love with jack hughes but he wasn’t yours, and there was a good chance he never would be. you were just a fan, watching him through a screen and behind the glass. you could only hope that one day he’d see you at a game and fall in love. but for now, you grabbed your makeup bag and started getting ready for your normal day at work.

#Spotify #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

[fictitiousmagines]

You've Already Got Me Wrapped Around Your Finger Part 4

You couldn't imagine my delight, when you invited me to a mid-day picnic after you poured your heart out to me in the stacks at Mooney's. I'd wanted to kiss you, so desperately, but heroes wait for their moment.

And you are a vision here in this bustling park, the pale blue sun dress and the same ole tote that you sling over your shoulder. You are a vision. You're effortless, in a way that people try to emulate but never quite measure up to.

You blush and babble as you unpack a spread of cheese, crackers and fruit. As you unpack, your most prized possession tumbles from the depths of your tote: your journal. You've mentioned in passing, that you draw and write in there and its the only time you feel like you can be yourself. I am Captain Ahab and your journal is my white whale.

"Oops," Y/N says while quickly stuffing it back in. Its a deep green with tattered corners but she touches it with such tenderness.

I hope you can be yourself with me, Y/N. I hope you can tell that I'm here to save you. I'm here to take care of you.

It was an absolutely perfect day: the picnic, the train back to our little part of New York City, the leisurely ride home, kissing you on your porch.

Your lips were so soft, Y/N. They're almost a drug. The way I got lost in the moment and buried my hands into your soft hair. Pulling away, you looked up at me with a look that only can be described as vulnerable. Beautiful. I wanted to take you right there. But instead I stroked your cheek with my thumb and reassured you that I had a wonderful time. That I couldn't wait to see you again.

When you texted me later that night, you pulled me out of my reading. But you are always a welcome distraction.

"Thanks again for the beautiful day together. Wanna grab a drink later this week? PS. I lost my journal, maybe on the train? I'm bummed! Does Mooney's sell blank journals?"

I don't answer because I immediately plan on buying you one and bringing it to you in the morning. A nice one. And each time you pour your soul into its pages, you'll think of me.

It was irresistible grabbing it out of your bag on the train. Your attention was on the loud commotion to your right. In an instant, it went from your bag, to my backpack. Hidden under the picnic blanket.

Maybe I'll buy you a new bag, one with a zipper. I don't want anyone pickpocketing you. Anyone could grab your wallet and get your personal information. I just wanna keep you safe. Not everyone is going to have your best intentions at heart. But I do.

I've been worried about you, Y/N. This is just my way of checking on you. I'm sure you're worried about overloading me. About having too much baggage, but you could never be too much for me. The more I read, the more fascinated I became.

I learned from your journal, new things but also things I only suspected. Like, that your dads care overwhelms you sometimes. Even though you love your dad dearly. That you worry that it might be time to put him in a home, even though your heart couldn't bear it. That your brother resists helping you, even though you work round the clock. That you miss your mother. And rereading The Outsiders makes you feel more connected to her.

Your art is always so gestural. So much feeling.

My heart stopped when I saw that you even wrote about me.

You wrote about meeting me at the shop. Our coffee together. And even about eating bodega sandwiches in the stacks of Mooney's. How I made you feel safe at that moment.

"I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I think I like this guy Joe."

#joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg fanfic #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg #You imagine #you imagines #penn badgley x reader #penn badgley imagine #penn badgley

[xlynnbbyx]

Jensen Ackles with fans in Paris May 2022

LOOK AT HIM! Jensen having a great time with the cast of the boys. Glad to know he is having a great time. I will keep swooning over him!

First 2 photos (X) 3rd Picture (X) 4th Picture: The owner of the last pic wanted himself cropped out of the picture. He has also put his profile on private so can’t tag him.

#jensen ackles #i love him #simping for jensen ackles #forever crushing on jensen ackles #he’s so pretty i want to cry #jensen ross ackles #jensen ackles makes me smile #i could just spread him on a cracker

[luveline]

could I request reader being sick with a sore throat and steve being worried and taking care of them? just sweet fluff.. thank you sm <3

worried steve 🥺 thank you for your request! :3 fluff + hugs (word count: 1k)

You're sitting on the counter in Steve's kitchen with a sore throat, watching him boil water in a pan over the burner.

"My mom drinks this weird herbal stuff when she gets sick. I think. It'll make you feel better," he'd promised confidently.

He's quiet now, pretending to watch the water when really he's looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You're too tired to ask him about it. 

"You're sure I can't make you something to eat?" he asks finally, breaking the silence. 

You don't think your boyfriend knows how to cook anything that isn't a TV dinner, and if he could you're too nauseous to think about it. 

"I'm sure," you say, throat dry as sandpaper,

The sound of your scraping voice has Steve wincing as he pours hot water into your mug, already prepped with a dainty metal strainer and herbal tea. 

"Crackers?" he suggests, slightly pleading. 

You shake your head, every word a knife to say. "They're too dry." 

Steve let's the tea steep before picking up the mug by its hot sides to offer you the handle. You take it from him, fretting over his burned fingertips as you bring the lip of the mug to your nose and sniff. It doesn't smell promising. 

"Don't wrinkle your nose at it, okay? Just drink it," Steve says. You think about the concerned pinch of his brows and forgive his attitude, taking a sip. 

"Oh," you say, giggling madly, enough to make your throat burn, "Steve, it's so bad." 

He looks genuinely heartbroken. "What? It can't be that bad. It can't be," he says from between your legs. 

You grimace. "Sorry, baby."

He shakes his head and eases the mug out of your hand more gently than necessary, taking a cautious, steaming mouthful. He swallows it, looking about as miserable as you feel. 

"It's awful," he mutters wryly, more to himself than you. "Hundred percent terrible." 

He puts the mug down by your side. His hands are warm as he spreads them over your thighs, frowning. "I can go get you something else." 

"Steve," you sigh, reaching out to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, curling it around your finger until he drifts towards you, dropping the crown of his head into your chest. 

"Sorry, babe," he says morosely. Then, too quick, he's out of your hands and making his way to the pantry. 

You miss his closeness instantly, voice ever scratchy as you call, "Steve?" Your voice breaks halfway through his name. "Steve?" 

He emerges from the pantry with a triumphant grin, excited as he slots himself between your legs again so fast it jostles you. In his hands, a honey bear. 

"Here," he says, turning the bear upside down and squeezing generously. He whips a spoon from the cutlery drawer and stirs the tea quickly before holding it up to your lips. You edge back just slightly and take it from him. 

"Well?" he asks as you drink, eyebrows raised expectantly, looking so hopeful it hurts your heart. 

You'd lie and drink the entire mug if you thought you could stomach it. "I feel really sick," you divert instead. 

His lips crumple. "That's not better?" he asks, taking it from you for his own sip. "Oh, no. God, it's fucking nasty. How do people drink this?" 

You laugh and it hurts. You hold your hand out, fingertips pushing into his chest. "Don't make me laugh," you beg. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

"It's not your fault. Just sick." 

"I don't like knowing you're in pain," he says, scowling. 

You smile softly. "Would you prefer I not tell you?" you tease lightly. 

"No, definitely tell me," he says. His exasperation is obvious. You pat his shoulder. 

Steve toys with the string on your sweatpants, looking at your neck. You know he's looking through you, thinking about something. You stroke his hair from his face absent-minded, weaving silky strands between your fingers and then tucking them behind his ear methodically. When there's no hair left to tuck back you run your fingers down his face, touch light, following from the corner of one of his sweet brown eyes to the line of his jaw, scratching on the tiniest hints of stubble. 

He massages your upper arm in answer, an unconscious touch. 

You pause your ministrations to reach for the Teddy bear he's set aside, wiping your finger over the nozzle. You lick your fingertip clean and smile happily. Tea is completely unnecessary, you think. Thank god for bees. 

"That good?" Steve asks, raising his eyes to yours. 

You nod, feeling a little embarrassed. Steve doesn't care, evidently, picking up the discarded spoon and filling it's well with honey. 

He offers it to you. You take it and eat the spoonful gingerly, close to tears when it quells the dry, pinching pain in your throat. 

"It actually feels a bit better," you tell him, lips sticky. 

"Yeah?" he asks. His relief is palpable. 

"Yeah," you say. You hold out the spoon and Steve fills it until there's honey dripping over the side and onto your shirt. 

"Don't tell anyone about that," Steve says, faux serious as he wipes away the spill. 

"I wouldn't," you play along. 

You both smile, too happy, more than fond. Steve works his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he presses his face to your chest, head turned to your shoulder. You hug him back with one arm, smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck lovingly as you turn the spoon upside down in your mouth and clean it off. 

He rubs your back with a firm, grounding pressure. 

"Sorry you’re sick, babydoll," he says, sounding ridiculously sad. 

You giggle as you drop the spoon and cuddle him back, rubbing your face into his soft brown mop. "Not your fault, Stevie." 

"It might be. How do you know it's not mono?" 

"Did you have mono?" you ask sceptically, already knowing the answer. 

"No." 

"Then no, you didn't give me mono," you say, wheezy as his arms tighten around you. "Idiot." 

"Whatever, nerd. Want another squeeze of honey?" 

"...Yeah." 

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

[stickyspeckledlight]

Boop! 🐾

(L didn't get this out yesterday but I was also a smidge busy balduring my gates and stockpiling knock off thin mints)

Unfortunately I do not have enough thoughts to write a drabble, but yan!aventurine would totally boop you.

The worst part is that you have no one to blame but yourself. On one particular night, when you weren't quite pushed to your limit but where your thoughts certainly did verge on the homicidal, an idea crosses your mind that, you believe to be utter genius in the moment: if you cannot overpower him or outwit him, then you certainly can use your meager mental faculties to bamboozle the fucker.

It's ingenious, you're certain! A touch that is not provocative, not aggressive, but OH so...powerful. A primordial innocence primed with mischief and tomfoolery. An action of such utter stupidity that no one in their right mind could even begin to react to.

He has been attempting to goad you into playing one of his games for the past five centuries (and no, you affirm that your sense of time is quite in order), and from having performed this song and dance innumerous times, it is about now when he says or does something to make you give in, and then entraps you in his hold before you can escape.

It is you who takes the initiative.

A demented grin full of malice and desperation spreads on your face as you ready your finger, and rush over to him, and

Boop! right on his nose.

And it works. He is too stunned; either by the stupidity of the situation, or that you've initiated contact. But you do not fret over the reason. You seize the opportunity and slip into the bathroom, locking it and securing it with a chair you grabbed for good measure. In the throes of your victory, no rational thought crosses your mind.

But all actions have consequences, and this very true fact catches up to you. Aventurine has not come banging on the door or mocking you as you thought he would. You have not heard from him at all. This is a good thing, but it makes you nervous---compounded by the fact you cannot stay in the bathroom forever.

Sure, you could theoretically survive here for three weeks, as the only thing you'd be lacking was food. You had a toilet, and a shower and bath to decompress in, even! And if you wanted to lay down? You could merely set up a haven of comfort with the millions of towels Aventurine keeps in his gargantuan bathroom. It was a great place to bunker in for sure!

.......but do you really want to starve? Like, do you really, really, really want to put yourself through that over him? You do hate him and want to see him suffer, but your mother and every self-help book ever says that you should love yourself! And unfortunately and fortunately for you, you do love yourself enough to not want to go through it. But, you can at least be strategic about it. Nabbing supplies in the night? No, Aventurine has proven himself capable of operating without a wink of sleep for good knows how long. The key to this operation is to leave when he's left! Ahahaha! Good job, you! You really are a bonafide genius! Nous ought to send you an invitation to the ranks of the Society!

(you're aware that he could just bust down your door without issue, but you'll take reprieve when you can get it, you know?)

So, you wait, and keep on waiting even after you hear the entrance close. You will not take any risks, and you wait for what you think is a good hour or three. And then, you emerge.

You are swift and precise, making a beeline towards the kitchen to stock up, and just as you are about to open the cabinet to nab a box of succulent bioengineered cheese crackers---

"Boop!" a gentle pressure mounts on your nose.

There really isn't any winning with this guy, you think. After this nasty surprise, he "revokes your bathroom privileges," mounting it with a lock and essentially requiring his permission with the key card he gives you for it.

And worst of all, your concept of utter genius comes to haunt you in your every waking moment. Coming home from a long day of work? Boop! Threatening your family and friends? Boop! Playing Animal Walking? Boop! Throwing you into a bare room handcrafted for sensory deprivation? Boop! Post nut clarity? Boop!

You then see the one glaring folly in your initial thought process: why did you ever assume Aventurine to be in the right mind in any way or any situation?!

#lol i wonder if i can even post this to ao3 #eh maybe i can adpat it into an actual drabble but also this is so inherently tied to tumblr that it's tough #it's fine i wrote this in like twenty minutes or something as a breather from actual fic writing lmao #no what do you mean i have to read three chapters before next class that's stupid #yandere #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #reader takes home a massive L #well then again they aren't home but aventurine would also then beg to differ #yandere aventurine x reader

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

“Blame it on the Rain”- a Loki/F!reader story

Summary: You and Loki Laufeyson can’t stand one another, and after one-too-many pranks goes awry in the midst of your ‘merry war,’ the two of you are punished with menial labor, and the weather reports are predicting a literal storm to supplement the one stirring within you…

After reading @joyful-enchantress lovely story about rain, I wanted to write one of my own.

Word Count: 2.8k Content Warnings: smut-adjacency, light angst, enemies-to-thirsty-af

“This is the last damn time I put up with you two children and your goddamn prank wars,” Nick Fury grumbled under his breath, rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers, as if it would do anything to quell his headache.

You felt like you were standing before the school principal, your face and body covered in glue, paint, and other various renovation supplies. Standing next to you was Loki the Trickster, the loose cannon of the Avengers, equally coated in sawdust and paint. He was more composed in the moment than you were, but that was, perhaps, because he didn’t care about impressing Nick Fury the way you were, having only been on the team for a month, still training to keep your telekinesis in check.

“They were already falling behind on renovating that new security center, and now Stark’s gonna be pissed at all the money you cost him with your little tiff,” Fury continued, groaning and beginning to pace in front of you.

Loki let a smile unwrap on his face. “Perhaps the room needed an extra splash of color.”

“Watch your mouth, Laufeyson,” Fury warned. “You know I place most of the blame on you for this.”

Mockingly, Loki placed a hand on his chest and knitted his eyebrows. “Me? Oh dear, now why would you feel that way?”

You scoffed under your breath, careful to keep your head down. You couldn’t help but feel an inkling of satisfaction that your boss was choosing to target him instead of you.

“You have something to add, Y/N?” asked Fury, raising an eyebrow.

You quickly shook your head submissively. “Only that he started it.”

“A skillful defense…for a little girl,” Loki replied, the snark in his voice thick and rich with pride.

“It’s the truth, you simpleton,” you answered back. “You’ve had it in for me since Day One!”

Loki smirked. “Maybe it’s because I find you entertaining?” he asked tauntingly.

Ignoring the slight shift in his posture, standing taller to assert dominance over you, spreading his legs slightly apart, you gritted your teeth in response. “Maybe I’m not here to entertain you in the first place—”

“—sweet tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, will you both shut up so I can punish you?” Fury raised his voice, silencing both of you. You bit your lip, but Loki only increased the intensity of his eye contact with Fury.

“Look, if you’re gonna mess up the entire compound with your bullshit, you could at least clean up a little. The quinjet needs a washdown, and they’ve been putting it off. So guess who gets to spend the afternoon taking care of it, kids?”

You rolled your eyes despite yourself. The damn thing would likely take upwards of a whole afternoon to wash, especially seeing as the last time it was used, it had nearly been washed away in a mudslide. You just knew the aircraft was crusted in dried dirt, mud, and woodland brush.

Loki looked at you, the wiseass smirk never leaving his face, only irking you further.

“I’d advise you both to get on it,” Fury added. “If I can’t see every wrinkle in my face in that damn jet by sunset, I’m going to use both of you for my office furniture for a month, got it?”

“He threatens us with a good time,” Loki said, winking at you. “I cannot wait to begin!”

Groaning, you shrugged and spun on your heels to leave in a huff before Fury and Loki could see that you were beginning to get flustered in a different way by the latter’s attitude.

You almost refused to admit it to yourself, but you knew you secretly had the hots for your Asgardian co-worker. How could you not? The windswept raven hair that always seemed to have a sheen to it, the tall, regal gait with which he carried himself into every room, the broad shoulders, the strong torso, the intense eyes, the jawline so hard and defined that he could cut a diamond with his chin, the way he seemed to think of leather pants and tunics as ‘casual wear,’ all of it only made you want to scream in his face more, if only to catch a whiff of his breath (you were pretty sure it would smell like wintergreen for some reason)…the list of reasons you wanted to hump him into next week went on and on.

If only he wasn’t such a goddamn babe, it’d be easier to hate him, you thought to yourself as you went back to your room upstairs, deciding that if you were going to spend the afternoon doing menial labor with the god, you may as well shower and make yourself ready for him.

Or, rather, make yourself ready for the psychological task of holding your own against him, for you got the feeling that Loki Laufeyson was already planning to torture you further once you began your sentence…

The skies to the west were darkening, ominous billows threatening to render your task more difficult.

Maybe the rain will take care of it, and we’ll be done by supper?

Alas, Loki wasn’t far behind you, and when he appeared on the roof, he too, noticed the storm clouds, but with another one of his Cheshire Cat grins. Fuck, you thought, stop showing me those perfect teeth so I can focus!  

He carried a bucket of suds in one hand, two sponges and a towel in the other, but it was what he was wearing that you noticed after his luscious smile.

It was as if he’d read your mind, and the ensemble he’d chosen for the task at hand was a loose white cotton tunic on top, cinched at the waist by a wide golden belt at the hip, and his tightest black leggings underneath. He’d smartly chosen to forgo his leather boots, but the fact that he stood before you barefoot somehow only added to the Harlequin Romance Coverguy getup. He’d scooped his hair into a low braid to keep it away from his dreamy face, exposing that he had two tiny golden hoops in his earlobes (you had no idea he had pierced ears…goddamn!).

“Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” he said, his voice low and steady.

You twisted your lip to keep your uninterested façade. “When you step on a shard of glass later, I’m going to laugh so loudly that Thor will hear me all the way in New Asgard,” you said snarkishly, noting the bare feet.

Loki chuckled, shrugging and sauntering up to you, lowering the bucket of soap. He then used his newly-freed hand to reach out for yours, and in spite of yourself, you let him take it, opening it so that your palm faced up. You let Loki place one of the sponges gently in it, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I get the feeling I’m going to be a distraction,” he added. “And with rain approaching…”

You looked over at the looming clouds again, which were only growing in height and hue as they approached. You could feel a cool wind precede the front, and the closer the weather came, the more you could feel your skin tingle.

“I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you aren’t fond of rainfall,” you replied. “I hear that your kind melt when hit with water.”

He nodded back. “I suppose you think that’s a ‘touche,’ eh?”

“It’s an invitation to get started before I drown you in the soap bucket, Loki,” you snapped.

Deciding that tempting yourself with glances at Loki as you worked would be a bad idea, you decided to start working on the wheels and undercarriage while Loki climbed onto a wing. This way, catching glances at him would be more difficult, and you could possibly finish before the rolling clouds soaked you.

After thirsty minutes, the storm clouds obscured the sun, darkening the skies dramatically, making you sigh with exasperation. Even though the previous half-hour had been spent in silence, you still had so much further to go on the jet that, at this rate, you would need Noah’s Ark to go back inside.

Yet, the cooling air felt fresher, cleaner, as the weather changed. A pluviophile at heart, rain was always your favorite kind of environment (at least when you didn’t have to perform forced labor underneath it). As a child, it was the sense of chrysalism you got from a summer shower that appealed to you, sitting in your warm room, watching the storm release itself outside of your window. As you grew up, you learned that few things in life gave you more pleasure than to walk through a downpour, or watch one from your open porch, letting the wind caress your face, making you feel replenished by the time it passed. The sound of droplets plopping on the pavement, or tapping on your window, was one of the few things that could put your anxious mind to sleep at night.

The wind picked up as you finally finished the underside of the plane, and moments later, the first droplets landed on the tarmac. It was a warm enough summer’s afternoon, so the moisture was welcome on your face, hopefully soon to wash the sweat from your forehead.

Another few moments went by before the storm properly found you, and the true torrent of the tempest finally arrived, like a showerhead you couldn’t turn off.

“Oh dear,” you could hear Loki chime from the atop wing, the loud roar of the increased wind and falling water drowning out his much of his voice. “I suppose you’ll want to come inside and wait out the weather—”

“—fat chance, Laufeyson. We are finishing this here and now!”

“Then you could meet me up here and give me a hand,” he said sarcastically. “Or are you afraid of your hair being ruined?”

You were already climbing a ladder onto the wing to meet his challenge, and just as the rain began dropping at a more consistent tempo, you clambered on top, your hair just beginning to dampen with the precipitation, your cheap eyeliner blotting and smearing.

Loki took one look at you and let out a hearty laugh. “You look like a wet raccoon! Or a clown that fell into a pond!” he chuckled.

Twisting your lip at the insult, you took a moment to think about how to reply, perhaps to trip him or throw him right off the wing…then you got a solid look at your adversary through the raindrops, which were nearly coming down in sheets already.

The white tunic was plastered to Loki’s chest, his nipples already perking enough underneath the thin fabric that you could see the pinpoints on his torso where they were appearing. His loose braid was nearly undone, the dark tendrils of his hair stuck to his face, framing it with unnatural perfection. Of course, his leggings were already as tight as you could fathom, but even now, they seemed more form-fitting, especially around the groin and ass (of course!, you thought woefully).

Ryan Gosling in The Notebook looked like a soggy sheepdog in comparison. Before you now was chiseled, dampened perfection.

And he knew it.

“Ahh, that feels wonderful doesn’t it?” Loki sighed, bringing his hands up to rake through his hair, unknotting the braid and letting it go loose.

“Are you done with this side yet?” you bit your lip, trying to make your arousal look like annoyance.

Loki shook his head. “I’ll admit, I haven’t been doing much up here for the past hour,” he confessed.

You groaned, taking your sponge and chucking it at him. He surprised you by snatching it out of midair, a cocky grin unfurling across his lip.

“Look, neither of us wants to be out here, and now I’m going to get sick tomorrow, so can we just cut the shit, and do our jobs?” you barked, slowly making your way across the top of the wing. Just as you got within arm’s length, you felt your shoe slip on the wet metal underfoot, and Loki was barely able to catch you as you stumbled forward, directly into his arms.

“I…uh…” you said, quickly attempting to recover and pull away.

He didn’t let go of you.

“What do you think?” he asked, his voice lowering, gaining a seductive quality you had only daydreamed about.

“Of what?” you asked, still irritable.

“Does the ‘wet look’ suit me?” he asked, releasing you so that he could bring his hands up to his collarbone, indicating his wet shirt but gently running his long fingers over his hard nipples and down his abs, indicating what he referred to. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of me.”

You growled, quickly losing track of any sanity or dignity you held on to. The rain, the warm wind, the sopping-wet god who may as well have been—

“—my apologies, but no use in keeping this on now,” he continued, stepping back from you, swiftly bringing his arms over his head and taking off the soaked cloth, tossing it aside with one move, leaving his chest bare and shining.

Jesus fucking tap-dancing Christ on a cracker, you thought.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” you began, before Loki closed the gap between you again, mumbling a surprisingly-gentle ‘ssh,’ and placing a finger over your lip to silence you.

“I’m making your daydreams come true,” Loki answered. “And don’t bother denying it any more, I know how much you want my cock inside you.”

Lips trembling and heart racing, Loki’s sensual suggestion sent your brain buzzing as he teased.

“You know everything about me, do you?” you said softly, Loki’s finger still on your lip, tracing the bottom one lightly as you spoke.

Loki purred. “Oh, how I’ve observed you so closely these past weeks…I know how many hairs you have on your head…”

Well, I bet you won’t expect this…

Before he could react, you parted your lips and took Loki’s finger into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over it, gently sucking, and looking up at him with dramatic bedroom eyes.

Now, it was his turn to go “I…uhh…”

When you finally released his finger, you finally returned his mischievous smile with your own. “The rain gets me hot,” you said quietly. “Don’t think it’s your body that draws me in, Loki.”

“Ah, I see! We’re blaming it on the rain now. That way, after I drag you inside this jet to fuck you senseless, you can still deny any feelings for me later!”

“Why bother dragging me inside? Let’s end this now,” you replied, taking one of Loki’s hands to the collar of your tank top, encouraging him to bring it down, exposing a breast to the rain. The water was warm on your face, but it was somehow chilly against the tender skin of your chest when you exposed it.

“Take me here,” you demanded.

Loki loomed ravenous, ready to take a bite out of you. “With pleasure…”

Shaking your head, the daydream fell apart like a crumbling sandcastle, with nothing but the remains of your fantasy puddling at your feet along with the rain. Still underneath the wing that your co-worker was on top of, you snapped back to reality.

You’d always daydreamed vividly, but this almost seemed too real, and you knew that at least your arousal was real.

“Y/N?” you could hear Loki call from above you. “Do you intend for me to do all the work out in the rain while you stand down there looking off?”

You sighed sadly, wishing everything had been real. As you went to head over to the ladder, you could hear the door to the roof open from behind you.

“Hey, you two need to come inside quickly,” called Natasha. “There’s a situation we need to take a look at.”

“Coming!” you called, satisfying Nat enough that she ducked inside instantly, possibly trying to avoid being splashed by raindrops.

You heard Loki chortle from above you. “Coming? I bet you wish you were at that…”

You rolled your eyes as he laughed, your gaze landing on the ladder. Smirking, you quickly slammed it shut and turned it on it’s side. It was light enough that you were able to sling it over a shoulder, and you were sure to take your time showing it off as you walked towards the door, purposefully swinging your hips.

Loki looked surprised as you looked up at him one more time, sopping wet, trapped on the wing of the quinjet, before you flashed him your middle finger and went inside, shutting the door behind you.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head at the trick. Oh, but I had the last laugh, he thought. She’ll be driven mad with need at the sight of me for weeks after I projected that little rainy day fantasy into her mind!  

Smiling, Loki threw back his head, looking up into the rain with pride, wondering how long it would take for you to realize that your erotic daydreams were always his doing…

Just tagging a few mutuals who may enjoy...please reblog if you like it!

@joyful-enchantress @lokisgoodgirl @coldnique @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @holdmytesseract @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @glitterylokislut @sarahscribbles @silverfire475 @simplyholl

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki smut #Loki angst #rain #storms #imagine #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki angst

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Hiya! I was wondering if you could possibly write a little reader that's struggling with nausea on a daily? If not that's ok! I'm just dealing with some health stuff but I want to be respectful of your rules! I don't mind with who. just something fluffy and soft to read!

˚. ❝₊˚ 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘺 ❞ ˚₊·

» bucky barnes x reader

» a/n: hope you don’t mind me choosing bucky for this prompt, I’ve been reading a lot of marvel lately and miss writing for it

» warnings: nicknames, talk of nausea/sickness, slight description of dry heaving

“How’re you doing Doll?” Bucky comes up behind you with a hand falling to the back of your neck, a small frown on his lips when he sees you grimace and your arms tighten over your stomach.

“I know, I’m sorry. Wanna try some more crackers?” He crouches next to where you are on the couch and plucks the half eaten sleeve of crackers from the coffee table. There’s three separate water bottles on it: one of water, one of tea, one of ginger ale, and toast that’s gone cold from this morning still left out, a set of those wrist bands that are supposed to help with nausea, and even a pair of those carsickness goggles that are supposed to help- even if you’re not driving anywhere.

“No, jus’ wanna cuddle.” A smile spreads across Bucky’s face when you reach out for him and he quickly complies at getting you scooped into his arms.

“Better?” You nod against his chest once the two of you are settled on the couch, you’re wrapped around him as tight as can be and his hand is rubbing up and down your back.

It’s an up and down battle of trying to find remedies that help your daily nausea. Sometimes they’re great and you’re able to go down to the park only a little walk away from your apartment, other days you end up dry heaving for so long your throat burns and Bucky can only hold you as you cry from the uncomfortableness, and sometimes, days like today, cuddling is the only solution.

Your eyes flutter closed within a few minutes of laying with Bucky acting as a human pillow. It’s only early afternoon but Bucky’s content on letting you drift off to sleep against his chest, he just hopes you feel a bit better when you wake up.

#jj writes #marvel agere #caregiver!bucky barnes #little!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader