#i remember my jaw dropped wide open when i first watched this

[drak3n]

TATTOO ARTIST/PIERCER!CHOSO

CONTENT WARNINGS: unestablished relationship, smut, public sex, mentions of body modifications, cunnilingus, implied blowjob at the end, choso has a prince albert-, tongue- and a vertical eyebrow piercing

sena’s note: i know there’s a lot of tattoo artist choso already but i folded — anywaysss up next is my man gojo 🖤

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who was very well-known for his talent despite being so young; who was always pretty gifted with his hands and used peoples’ skin like a canvas, gracing it with the prettiest designs, simple and small, or detailed and large

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who shared a studio with a few fellow tattoo artists and piercers, but had a goal of having his own studio someday

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who had just finished a 5h back piece on his last client and walked towards the front desk to retrieve his cigarettes and take a break, just for his hooded, brown eyes to set on you

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who saw you standing next to your friend and encouraging her to hand in her data sheet for her tattoo, and who watched as your friend was immediately guided into one of the rooms by a tattoo artist, just to leave you all by yourself

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who came back from smoking minutes later to see you sitting on one of the leather seats, flipping through pages of the shop’s magazine that showed many different designs of tattoos, and also piercings

“you want to get anything done?”

nearly flinching at the cold voice sounding a couple of feet away from you, your eyes met choso’s, who was leaning against the wall, revealing fully tattooed forearms through his loose-fitted t-shirt. he looked very… unique, to say the least.

“oh, no, i’m just waiting for a friend,” you smiled kindly, “she’s getting tattooed right now. think it’ll take some time.” you felt guilty that you stared at the man like he was some kind of alien. his features were just really captivating, the plethora of tattoos peeking out from his short sleeves and from the collar leaving little to the imagination that they continued even beneath that shirt.

his eyebrow tattoo shone under the light, but when he opened his mouth, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of a tongue piercing.

you suddenly remembered what they said about guys with tongue piercings, and felt deeply ashamed about getting such thoughts about a hot stranger.

“come,” he invited you towards the room he usually worked in, “you’ll get bored here. you’ll get a piercing on the house.” he didn’t know why he offered that. maybe, just maybe it was because he didn’t want the other piercers and tattoo artists to charm you first.

at the end of the day, you left the studio with your freshly tattooed friend and a pierced nose.

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who hoped you’d walk in again, and whose shoulders nearly slumped in disappointment upon seeing your friend coming in by herself a few days later to get her tattoo checked, without your company

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who — totally on accident — saw that the studio had been tagged in multiple stories on instagram, one of which being yours, a spontaneous picture taken of your side profile that showcased the gem he had pierced into your cute nose

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who absolutely didn’t follow you after that, just to see mere minutes later that you did, and before he could stop himself, he followed you back

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who really wasn’t the best texter, which left you wondering if you should even try and talk to him at all; whose eyes went wide in surprise when you waltzed into the studio to get your thigh tattooed weeks later

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who showed you that same day how it felt to get eaten out by someone with a tongue piercing

“c—choso��� fuck— what if someone—”

your hand clamped in front of your mouth to stifle a moan threatening to force itself out when the ball of metal on choso’s wet muscle bumped against your bundle of nerves. you were seated on the couch he’d previously tatted on, both of your bare legs thrown over his shoulders as he feasted on your delicious pussy.

“let them,” he spoke gruffly into your cunt as his tattooed hands dug into the underside of your thighs. he didn’t hide the smirk displaying on his lips at the way you drooled from the sensation of his piercing coolly gliding against your wet pussy lips.

“c’mon. use your words. i’ll let you cum if you do.”

“pleasepleaseplease let me cum… please choso.”

“cute. you want to feel what the piercing on my dick feels like?”

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who totally did make you beg on his thick dick adorned with a shiny prince albert piercing, and who couldn’t even be mad at you when you flashed him a tongue piercing you had gotten at another studio to surprise and make him see stars just like he’d done for you

#choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #jjk choso smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jjk choso fluff #choso fluff #tattoo artist!choso #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso x you #jjk choso #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #choso x female reader

[gojomamashouse]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x you

[roosterforme]

Stud On Board | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: You're nervous to meet Bob's friends for the first time. Initially you think they are poking fun at you, but then you realize that's not the case. When it becomes obvious that it's your boyfriend they're picking on, you make it a point to let them know just how much of a stud he really is.

Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, swearing

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm a little nervous to meet everybody," you whispered to your boyfriend as you zipped up his jeans. You wiped the corner of your mouth, making sure your lips were clean before climbing onto his lap. You'd gone on four dates with him before he very nervously asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, for the past month, you'd been so happy.

"Don't be nervous, Sweetheart," he replied, leaning closer to kiss your nose as he cradled you between his body and the steering wheel of his truck. "Everyone is going to like you. What's not to like?"

"Bobby," you said, adjusting his crooked glasses on his nose. "They are a tight knit group. If one of them doesn't like me, none of them are going to like me."

"Well, I like you plenty," he promised, and you turned to look out the window at his friend Jake's house where the Memorial Day party was in full swing in the backyard. "And Nat knows I'm wild about you. She told me she's happy you're coming with me."

You kissed him softly and then opened the door and started to climb down with his help. "I can't believe I get to meet the famous Phoenix."

Bob laughed. "She's larger than life. Hang on tight." 

And you did. You laced your fingers through his and let him lead you around the cute little ranch house and into the cozy backyard. Someone was grilling, there was music playing, and you saw a couple of kids blowing bubbles. But before you could take in anything else, there was a woman with dark hair and wide brown eyes in your face. 

"Bob. She's stunning."

Your boyfriend chuckled and pulled you a little closer. "Sweetheart, this is Nat."

"Oh!" you said brightly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Holy shit," Nat replied, just shaking her head. "Good job, Bob. I mean, it's nice to meet you," she said, offering her hand and shaking yours. "Bagman is grilling some burgers, and there are drinks in the cooler."

"You want me to get you something to drink?" Bob asked, pecking you on the cheek. 

When you nodded, you watched Nat drag him away as she whispered, "Fucking hell, Floyd. You could have warned us that your new girlfriend looks like that." 

You rolled your eyes. Nobody usually made much of a fuss over you. When you turned to see what the group of kids was up to, you nearly bumped into a tall man sporting a mustache. Like a pornstar from the 80s. You almost laughed as he said, "Hey, I know we didn't come here together, but how'd you like to leave with me?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, bursting out laughing. "Did you really just say that?"

He shrugged at you, looking very smug. "My name's Bradley. We haven't met before. I'd definitely remember you."

You told him your name, and you were about to add that you came here with Bob, but then your boyfriend strolled back over with two cans of beer. He handed you one and kissed your cheek again.

"Oh, Rooster, this is my girlfriend," Bob said, and you watched Bradley's jaw drop as he looked at you, his eyes dipping down below your neck to the top of your dress as he blushed. 

"Sorry," he muttered, and he fist bumped a confused looking Bob as he walked away. 

"What was that all about?" your boyfriend asked. 

"Nothing," you replied with a smile as you sipped your drink. "Can we get some food? I'm starving, and I need to put something in my mouth right now."

"Really?" Bobby asked, cheeks flushing as he ran his fingers along the back of your hand. "You didn't get your fill in the truck?"

"Bobby!" you gasped, always a little surprised when he said something dirty to you. He was such a gentleman... usually. "I got my fill of you in the truck, but I need to make sure I have energy for later." You winked, and he was practically tripping over himself as he followed you across the patio toward the grill.

And that was where you met Jake. "Hey, pretty lady," he drawled. His accent was southern and cute, but nothing like Bob's, which you'd already gotten used to hearing whispering the sweetest things while he made love to you. 

"Hi," you said carefully as he studied your face. You were already feeling like maybe you didn't get off to the best start here, and the look he was giving you felt like a confirmation. 

"Damn it, Bob," he groaned, turning to look at your boyfriend. "Well done." Then he handed you a burger and told you to help yourself to some potato salad and snacks on the picnic table. 

"I don't think they like me," you told Bob as you dumped some pretzels onto your plate and sighed. 

"They do!" he insisted. "Just give them a chance."

"I'm trying," you promised before you bit into your burger. And thankfully Phoenix came back over and started chatting with you which made you feel a lot better. She asked you about work and told you how good Bob was at his job.

"He always makes sure he keeps everyone safe," she said, looking at Bob with appreciation in her eyes. "He's a great team player."

You smiled at her as Bob blushed. "He told me I could come visit him on base someday," you said as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'd love to see your Super Hornet."

"Bob, you'll have to let her check out your cockpit one day," Nat said with a chuckle. "Maybe she's not familiar with that yet."

"Oh, I'm very familiar with that," you whispered, just for Bob, and his cheeks turned a deeper pink still. 

"Sweetheart," he muttered, and you promised him you'd behave. 

Then someone was reaching for your hand and pulling you away from him. "You're Bob's?" he asked. And before you even answered, he said, "I'm Fanboy. I mean Mickey. Come play horseshoes with me. I'm terrible and nobody else will be my partner."

You waved goodbye to Bob and Phoenix while you laughed and joined the game. "If you're terrible, what makes you think I'd want to be your partner?" you asked as he finally let go of your hand. 

"I'm sure you don't, but I didn't give you a choice. That's Payback and Coyote," Mickey told you, and two more men waved at you. "We're playing against them." 

"Damn," they said in unison before the taller one added, "You're Bob's new girlfriend?"

"Yeah," you said, waving awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Are you sure you didn't get lost or something?" Jake asked you when he strolled over. "Really? Bob?"

You looked at all the guys and then over to Bob on the patio. "What do you mean?" you asked Jake.

"Don't listen to them," Mickey said loudly, cutting him off and handing you a horseshoe. "They're just jealous."

"Jealous?" you asked, starting to feel sick. They didn't like you. For some reason, you'd done something wrong. You tossed the horseshoe, but it was a terrible throw, and now you were embarrassed. "Can I ask what I did wrong? Because Bobby is so sweet, and I really wanted to make a good impression on his friends."

Mickey's eyes went wide. "You didn't do anything wrong!"

And that's when you heard Payback tell Coyote and Jake, "It's like beauty and the geek. I don't understand how it happend."

"Are they talking about me?" you asked Mickey, and he parted his lips like he was going to say something to you, but he turned to them instead.

"Guys, knock it off."

"I don't understand," you whispered, and finally Mickey showed you some sympathy.

"They all think you're hot. And they can't believe you're dating Bob."

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, and the other horseshoe almost slipped from your fingers. "Oh."

"Seriously, just ignore them," Mickey said, shooting the others a nasty look. "I like you. Everyone likes you. Let's play horseshoes."

So you played for a little bit as his words started to sink in. It just didn't make any sense. Bob was every bit as handsome as the rest of them. And he was sweet. Even sweeter than Mickey, who was currently trying to include you in the conversation. And Bob was so funny; last night he had you laughing so hard you had hiccups. 

Not to mention, Bob gave you the best sex of your life. Sure, you hadn't been intimate with him for more than a few weeks, but he was very attentive. He gave you everything you asked for. 

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said and you turned to see him strolling up to you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wanted to kiss him until his glasses steamed up. 

"Bobby," you whispered, handing the horseshoes to Bradley so you could give him a proper hug. 

"You having fun?" he asked, rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your back. 

"Yes. Mickey and Phoenix are really nice. And the rest of them... I think they must grow on you over time?"

Bob started laughing and said, "You're not wrong."

"Hey, Four-Eyes, you and your girl want dessert?" Bradley asked, tossing one of the horseshoes up in the air and catching it.

"Um, y-yes," Bob said, clearly flustered now. 

"Four-Eyes?" you asked, scoffing at him. Were they making you feel a little awkward because they thought Bob was nerdy? "Wait, are you making fun of Bobby?"

At least Bradley had the decency to look a little embarrassed as you glared at him. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

"You think he's a nerd?" you asked the other guys, gesturing at Bob. 

Bradley shrugged. "Yeah, kinda." Jake, Coyote and Payback all looked like they wanted to agree.

You looked up at your boyfriend, and you could tell he was still embarrassed. He could barely meet your eyes as you pressed your palm against his chest. Then you could feel a smile creep across your face as you made sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. "I think he's a stud." Then you kissed him hard in front of everyone, and sure his glasses were crooked when you were done, but you liked that about him.

"You do?" Bob asked softly. "A stud?"

You nodded up at him as you fixed his glasses. "You wanna leave, Bobby? I keep thinking about sucking your cock in the truck like I did earlier. I'm dying to feel your big dick down my throat again."

Jake let out a little strangled noise, and Bradley dropped a horseshoe on his own foot. Now the other guys were gaping at Bob, and they seemed to stand a little taller in his presence, suddenly impressed. 

Bob licked his lips and stared at you, completely entranced as you kissed his cheek. "Yeah. You know what, I think we should head out," he managed, his voice a little hoarse as he tightened his grip on you. 

"You're leaving?" Nat asked, walking over with a slice of cake. 

"Apparently Bob isn't as innocent as we thought," Hangman drawled, looking at your boyfriend with new appreciation. 

"It was nice to meet everyone," you told them, lacing your fingers through Bob's. "I'm going to go take care of Bobby. But maybe next time we can stay for dessert?"

"Make Bob bring you to the Hard Deck on Friday!" Nat called after you as you led him away. "I need more estrogen in my life!"

"Will you take me to the Hard Deck on Friday?" you asked him sweetly. 

"I'll take you anywhere you want, Sweetheart," he replied, still looking at you like he couldn't believe you were his.

You turned to wave and said, "See you on Friday!"

And then Bob pulled you close as he led you back toward his truck. "You didn't have to say all that stuff in front of them and call me a...stud. I'm used to them picking on me a little bit for being nerdy and having glasses and everything. I mean, I know it's true, Sweetheart."

You just laughed and shook your head at him. "Come here, stud." You pushed him up against the side of his truck and kissed him, slipping your tongue between his lips and tasting him. You rubbed yourself gently against the front of him and whispered, "Do I look like I deserve anything less than the sexiest, sweetest boyfriend?"

He swallowed hard and grunted, "No."

"That's what I thought. Now get in the truck, Bobby. I have something I want to show you."

----------------------------

Bob is a stud. Just try to argue with me about that fact. Thanks to @bradshawsbitch and @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls!

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob top gun #robert floyd x reader

[soursturniolo]

Scare • Matt Sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader

summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare.

tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.

tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy

It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.

9 days late. And I’m never late.

I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.

I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?

I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.

Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.

Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.

My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.

I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.

“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.

“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.

“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”

“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.

“No! God no,” I immediately answer.

Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.

“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.

I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.

“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.

“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.

I take a deep breath.

“I’m late.” I state.

If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.

“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.

“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.

Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.

“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.

“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.

I stop pacing and just look at him.

“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.

“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.

“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.

“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.

“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.

We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.

“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.

“9 days,” I whisper.

“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.

“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.

I turn to him, knowing too.

“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.

“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.

“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.

“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.

“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.

“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.

“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.

“Okay, what?” Matt asks.

Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.

“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.

I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.

“No, that’s it,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.

“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.

Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.

We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.

I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.

“Let’s head to my room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.

“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.

He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.

“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I swear,” he tells me.

I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.

I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.

“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Yeah, baby,” he says.

I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.

I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.

Negative.

“It’s negative!” I say, laughing. He smiles too, standing and pulling me into a tight hug. We both rock back and forth as we hug, feeling relief. We pull back from the hug and Matt kisses me softly. We both smile into the kiss.

After we part, we walk hand in hand out to the living room where Chris and Nick both sit. They both give us smiles when we walk in.

“So, are we going to be uncles?!” Chris yells, practically bouncing on the couch in excitement.

Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head while I laugh.

“No, it’s negative. My periods just late, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” I tell them, almost feeling bad when Chris pouts a bit.

We spend the rest of the night laughing and watching movies together, Matt holding me snug in his arms. That night when we go to bed, Matt says something that surprises me.

“Is it bad that I was just a little disappointed?” He asks me softly.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, when you first called and asked for the test I was freaking out on the inside. But then I talked to Chris a bit and the whole drive home I thought about it. And then I thought about a little us, a mix of you and me. And as life changing as a kid right now would be, I got excited,” he says, voice soft and quiet.

I smile, leaning in to press my lips softly against Matt’s.

“We’ll have a little us someday, just not quite yet.” I tell him.

“You promise?” He asks.

“I swear.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt

[solacestyles]

─ EARLY RISER ❜ aegon ii targaryen

─ summary to wake your husband for his duties, you need to take desperate measures.

❛ pairing Aegon II Targaryen x reader

❛ note this is the first time I post anything I write here! also, english is not my first language.

❛ word count 697

Unfortunately for your husband, you've always been an early riser. The heat waves from your hometown used to force you awake and out of bed right after sunrise, the time that it became unbearable to even stay lying down.

When the light started gleaming through the thin navy blue curtains your body immediately stirred, taking you out of your rest. Aegon's arms were keeping you locked close to his chest, and not even your tiredness from the night before was enough to keep you in bed, his body warmth combined with the high temperature left you bothered, your skin burning where the blanket and his skin touched yours. Thankfully, the servants already knew you enjoyed bathing first thing in the morning, especially on warmer days like this one, and made sure that your bath was ready before the first rays of light reached the horizon.

You knew your first challenge of the day would be convincing Aegon to get up and ready. The family carriage was set to leave at 8 for your son's name day hunt, and although it was your husband's idea, you were aware he wouldn't mind leaving the realm's most important lords waiting several hours just so he could get a few more hours of sleep.

The first try was calling his name and touching his pale face, it only made him snuggle closer to be more comfortable with you. You tried again, getting out of his embrace and shaking his shoulders, but again, a failed attempt. At least you were seeing progress now, earning a few complaints from him.

Silently deciding this was your last try before taking more desperate measures you straddled his body and left kisses all over his jaw and neck, finally contemplating his dark violet eyes opening.

"Good morning, my handsome king." his face was still red and with evident sleep marks, his eyes struggling to be kept open. One of your husband's hand went directly to your waist, while the other was occupied rubbing his eyes.

"Morning, my dear queen." he bent his body to peck your lips and dropped his head again to the pillow straight away. "Must you wake me at this unholy hour?"

"Well, I don't know if it slipped your mind, but today is Rhaegar name day." you said giving him small kisses with each word. "You know, your son, the future king, our little brave dragon rider."

Aegon gave you an airy smile and mumbled something among the lines of "totally remembered" while closing his eyes again.

"No! Don't go back to sleep, do you know how long it took me to wake you?"

No response. You climbed out of his lap and stopped by his side of the bed. Sighed and debated mentally what you could do to get him up for good.

"Aegon!" you said a bit louder, making him jump a little in bed. "Love, please get up."

"Dove, i'm begging you, let me enjoy a bit of sleep before making me endure those lords dull talk." he did not even open his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

"We need to be there so the lords dull talk is not about how they have an irresponsible queen and king as rulers." again, nothing. "Please, Aegon."

You finally get fed up and decide to use your low blow. You walk away slowly from the bed and stop close to the door that leads to the bath chambers.

"Fine, do as you please." you said with a ruff, and this sparked Aegon's interest, you never give up this easily, he opened one eye to see what were you up to, and he watched you start to undress from your white nightgown.

"I'm going to take a bath, I was expecting you to join me, but it seems I'll be alone today."

Aegon leaps up immediately, his eyes wide open. "No, no! I'm already up.”

He speeds to get to you before you leave and rapidly caught your waist with both of his arms. With his head resting on your shoulder, as he sniffs your neck lovingly, getting giggles out of you.

"Knew that would work."

#darcywriting ₰ #aegon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon imagine #aegon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen

[greycaelum]

Indulgence Collections 🪷: Touch

Satoru has been sporting his hair longer than usual. He's been so busy he never got the time to drop off his barber shop and get his trim.

"What'cha doing pretty?" Satoru hums from the bathroom sink while he shaved his day-old stubbles, keeping his face flawless. He's wearing a cotton short while unbothered going topless displaying his well-defined muscles.

"Nothing much wanna try something after you're done." You held a small bag and plopped down the couch of your bedroom to wait for your beau.

You heard the running water and him rummaging through the cabinets. He finally emerged from the bathroom with a black shirt on that hangs loosely on his body but didn't hide his damn enticing collarbone.

"What did you wanna do?" Satoru climbs onto the bed but you stop him and you open the bag.

"I got you~ this! ta-dah!" You excitedly presented him with a razor you found while strolling around the shopping district.

Satoru took a few human seconds to understand the meaning behind your words.

"Oh?" A wide grin appears on his lips and takes the razor from your hands. "Are you gonna be my personal barber now?"

You shrug and go to the bathroom to spread out some newspaper on the floor and a chair from your dresser for him to sit on.

"You've been complaining about your hair lately, but you don't go to your barber anyway. So you'll have to make do with me."

Satoru leaned on the doorframe and chuckled as you prepared your make-do salon in the bathroom. True, his nape has been itchy with the amount of thick hair brushing his skin when he removes his blindfold. He doesn't know where you got the guts to try this stuff with him moreover he knows you've never done this before. But he didn't stop you when you pulled him to sit on the stool and put a towel around him.

"Woah, woah, don't start with the razor, Baby." Satoru held your wrist and gave you the scissors you got with the razor. "You have to section my hair first. Like this..." He shows you where his undercut starts. "You cut it like, vertically, okay?"

"O-Okay." You nodded and remembered how his barber did it when you went together to get his haircut. "Like this, right? Is it too short?"

Satoru watches your eyes so focused on his hair that it's too cute to look away from the mirror. 

"Cut a little longer... Yeah just like that." Satoru chuckled when you almost cut a thick chunk of his hair and your face went pale. "Awww, you have no reward if I come out bald, Baby."

"Shut up, I'm trying my best here." You huffed and finally finished trimming down his hair. "It looks good?" You look in the mirror and can't help but laugh at how he looks like the teenager he was in 2006 it's just that his jaws are now more pronounced and a screaming masculinity exudes from his large build.

"Mnnn, go get the razor Baby, you do it like this..." Satoru shows you how to shade his side cut and gives you the razor. You look so obedient as he teaches you how to do it that he can't help but pinch your nose making you yelp.

"I should just follow the hairline, right?"

"Kind of, you start here then curve it here." Satoru directs your hands while you mimic his hand gestures before nodding. "Scared?"

You shook your head and held the razor. Slowly you shaved the excess hair from his hairline, the artic locks were soft against your hand as they fell down leaving a clean line on his nape. It feels ticklish as you shave the back of his neck making that undercut you love so much more defined now. There's just something about Satoru's undercut that makes it so irresistible to your touch. A few more runs of the razor and you're finished. Brushing off the hair from his neck you stared at his clean undercut intently.

Satoru looked at the mirror and whistled.

"At this rate, I'm never going to my barber again." Satoru ran his finger through his hair, feeling it a lot lighter as he ruffled it to a mess.

Without warning he swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, trudging our of the bathroom to the bedroom.

"Satoru!"

He throws you on the bed and climbs over you, peppering you with ticklish kisses all over your face while you try to shield yourself from the onslaught. Instinctively your hands wrap around his neck making contact with his fresh undercut, tickling your palm. Satoru groaned in pleasure when you ran your fingers up to his neck and down to his spine.

"That feels so good, Baby." He purred, drowning you in his weight with his face pressed between your chest. "Do it again, pleaseee~" He mumbled and wrapped an arm around your waist. "My head feels so light."

He didn't have to tell you twice as you ran your hand over and over until his breathing gradually slowed down.

"Y'know... 'm glad you cut my hair." Satoru opened one eye and looked up at you.

"Why?" You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose making Satoru purr.

 "I feel safe when it's you holding my head."

Your eyes softened and nodded. You understand how vulnerable he is regarding his neck up to his head.

"Don't worry that pretty little head of yours and sleep. We got the whole day for ourselves."

Satoru smiles and nuzzles his face even deeper into the valley of your chest and sighs in relief as your fingers thread through his hair, lulling him to a peaceful slumber. The sweet gentle way you tug on the roots of his hair and the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp is the kind of friction his body longs to feel all the time.

"Never let me go, Baby, please..." He murmured between his dreams and your touch.

[@lexiene] happiest birthday dearrrr sunshine~🪷 I hope you like this small gift I prepared~✨🫶🏻

General Taglist: @ice-icebaby  @aeanya @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

—Grey,

#[grey writes: indulgence collections🪷] #[grey writes: happiest birthday to my sunshineeee] #[grey writes: coping with 236] #gojo satoru #jkk gojo fluff #jjk gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #greycaelum #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk fluff

[mandarinmoons]

Hi! I thought of a request I thought would be cute 🥰

Spencer and female reader have a toddler daughter who’s just learning to talk. She says mama for the first time while with Spencer and dada for the first time with reader and they’re both so excited that she said the others name but also trying to hide it so the other isn’t disappointed they missed it

(In my head they’re both in the bau but that probably doesn’t matter)

(Hope this makes sense!)

It is cute x

Ever since Bailey was born you decided to take some time off from the BAU so you could give your full attention to your sweet girl. Spencer was adamant about being the one to take care of her, but knowing you it would be a waste to put up a fight.

As the time passes Bailey keeps on growing and so do the smiles on yours and Spencer’s faces. Her looks were starting to come through and it was no doubt that she had inherited Spencer’s genes, her eyes were just as puppy dog-like as her dad’s and she also had small curly bits of hair at the sides of her face, it was the most precious thing.

Walking was already established, both you and Spencer told each other stories of how Bailey would run into each of yours arms whenever either of you would have some alone time with her. In fact, there were some other things both of you had experienced.

One morning when making breakfast you heard Bailey making her usual little sounds. You looked over at her and saw the sparkle in her little brown eyes and chuckled. You finished making her porridge and walked over to her.

“Okay baby… oh, wait, forgot your spoon,” as soon as you turned your back you heard Bailey speak again, except this time an actual word came out of her mouth.

“Dadda.”

Your eyes went big and you turned around quickly and looked at your daughter.

“What did you say?”

“Dadda!”

A tear pricked to your eyes and a wide grin spread across your face, your baby just said her first word.

“Oh my god Bailey! Do you miss your daddy?”

“Dadda! Dadda!

You giggled at Bailey’s cheering and ruffled her hair, “Don’t worry baby, daddy will be home soon enough.”

The day goes on and soon enough Spencer is home. 

“Hey there daddy.”

Spencer chuckled and walked over to his girls, he gave you a kiss and took Bailey into his arms.

“You’re never going to believe what happened today.”

“Oh yeah? What happened?”

“Bailey said her first word!”

Spencer’s eyes went big and looked over at his daughter, “Really?”

“Mhm, and you know what the word was?”

“Hmm, what was it? Huh Bailey, what did you say?”

“Momma!”

Hearing the word that came out of the little girl’s mouth made your jaw drop, that was not the same word that you had heard earlier today.

“Wait what, Bailey you said “dadda” earlier.”

“She did?”

You nodded and chuckled, “I didn’t know she could say that.”

“Well uh… I did.”

“What?”

“Well, remember last week when you went out to the store, yeah Bailey said it as soon as you left.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I wanted to, believe me! But we got caught up watching cartoons and I sort of uh, forgot.”

“And I thought you were one to never forget things.”

Spencer chuckled and sat down next to you with Bailey on his lap, “I’m sorry honey, but good thing is that we were her first words.”

“Yeah I guess, still I wish I would’ve been there to hear it.”

“And I wish I could’ve been here when she said “daddy” for the first time.”

“Dadda!”

Both you and Spencer looked at each other and laughed, “Well may not have been the first time, but it’s one of the first.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @spencelle @iluvreid @khxna

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid au #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid hc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds headcanon #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

First of all - CONGRATS!!! 🥳

and while I'm here, can I also request S&🪶 please? (i'll leave the rest up to you)

YOU'RE AWESOME! 🖤

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy what I came up with (incidentally, this also works as a @subeddieweek entry, whoops 😅🖤)

I'm celebrating 1k followers - requests are open!

A matter of control

Rated: E

Words: 990

Tags: Dom!Steve, Sub!Eddie, bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation (or the attempt at it), they're idiots your honor

“Here we go,” Steve murmurs. He lets the ends of the silk rope glide through his fingers, admiring how the black fabric shimmers against the pale skin of Eddie’s wrists. “You still good, baby? Too tight?” 

“I … no.” Eddie shakes his head, trying to wiggle his way out of the blindfold - black silk to match the ropes. Steve watches how he bites his lip when he realizes it won't budge, how he darts out his tongue to sooth over the spot, and smiles smugly. “Just … not sure this was my best idea.” 

He tugs on the ropes tying his wrists to the headboard. Steve makes a low shushing sound, cupping his face with both hands, and Eddie goes very still. 

“Hey, it's okay,” Steve says, voice gentle but firm. “I gotcha. You know that, right?” 

Eddie nods, a jerky flutter of movement. 

Steve smiles, running the pad of his thumb over a flushed cheekbone. “Say it for me?” 

Eddie gulps and shivers under his hands, but he relaxes. “You got me,” he rasps. 

“That's right, Eds,” Steve coos, leaning in for a long, filthy kiss. He doesn’t pull away until he feels Eddie go boneless and pliant under him, and when he does, it is to a whine of protest. “Wanna keep going?” 

Eddie nods frantically, then remembers he's supposed to use his words. “Fuck, yes. Stevie, please-” 

“Okay,” Steve says, silencing him with another kiss. “Okay, baby.” 

He kisses and nips his way down Eddie's jaw and neck and chest, making sure to keep it light and teasing - he still has a lot planned. Only when Eddie’s breathing quickens and he starts squirming does he stop and pull away. Eddie whimpers at the loss of contact, straining against the blindfold. 

“Stevie? What’re you-” 

“Patience,” Steve admonishes, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out the object he hid there. Then he runs the tip of it along Eddie’s side, one smooth drag from his armpit and over his ribcage, all the way down to his hip. Eddie yelps and almost jolts off the mattress. The headboard creaks. 

“Jesus fuck- … Is that a fucking feather?” 

“Clever, aren’t you?” Steve praises. He makes the feather paint a wide arch over the dip of Eddie’s hip bone, then drags it back up to his chest. Eddie lets out a snort. A rather loud, rather unsexy one. “Everything okay?” 

Eddie gives a weird, nasal kind of squeak. His lips are twitching, and Steve realizes he's desperately trying not to laugh. 

“Eddie?” he asks, momentarily stopping his ministrations. “What's wrong?” 

“Fuck,” Eddie wheezes, nostrils heaving. “Okay. Okayokayokay, this is not- … So, here's the thing, I'm sorta ticklish.” 

Steve chuckles. “Well, good. If you weren't, this wouldn't work.” 

The tip of the feather traces the spider tattoo and Eddie lurches. 

“You don't understand,” he pleads. “Not just a little ticklish. Not the cute and sexy kind. More like the full-body-spasms-and-laughing-fits kind. I can't control it, man, I'll-” 

“Eds,” Steve says gently, putting a hand on his chest to push his squirming body back into the mattress. “Don't you think you’re being a bit dramatic? This is what it's all about, right? Stepping out of your comfort zone?” 

Eddie hesitates. Steve knows he's blinking furiously behind the blindfold, even without seeing his eyes. 

“I guess …” 

“See?” Steve murmurs, dropping into that low rumble that does things to Eddie. “Now … I want you to be nice and still for me. I know you can do it. Long inhales and exhales, follow my voice.” 

Eddie does, letting Steve guide him into a pattern of deep, relaxed breaths. When Steve starts tracing the feather over his naked skin again, he whines and twitches, but not as violently as before. Steve keeps it up, covering him in praise and gentle commands while he crawls further down, ghosting the feather over Eddie’s hip bones, his thighs. Eddie's breaths turn into little whimpers and his hands twitch in their bonds, but he holds still, letting Steve’s voice settle over him, sweet and soothing and thick as honey. 

Until the feather touches the inside of his knee and Eddie’s leg jerks as if zapped. Steve is faintly aware of a foot connecting with his temple, a firework of pain erupting behind his eyes, and then all goes dark. When he comes back to himself, he's on the ground beside the bed and Eddie’s voice is a high, panicked babble somewhere above him. 

“-vie, I'm so sorry, please say something. Oh my God, did I knock you out? Are you unconscious? Please don't be unconscious, I don't want the kids to find us like this, Henderson would never let us-” 

“Jesus,” Steve groans into the carpet. His heartbeat is a jackhammer in his skull and his ears are ringing. “You kick like a horse. Why don't you just kill me? Be done with it.” 

Eddie laughs, breathy and relieved and just a little cheeky. 

“Now who's being a bit dramatic, big boy? And besides, I warned you.” 

Steve huffs, finally picking himself off the floor and clambering back onto the bed. Eddie jumps slightly when the mattress dips, but eagerly turns his head in Steve’s direction for another kiss. 

“Alright,” Steve grouses. “Message received. No more feathers.” 

“Glad we agree,” Eddie hums, arching into the touch of Steve's lips tracing more kisses down his neck and chest. “Now get this thing off me so- what are you doing?” 

Steve, who has just started swirling the tip of his tongue around one hard nipple, stops and grins. 

“Ah-ah,” he chides, pushing Eddie’s legs apart and crawling further down, breath ghosting over the tip of his flushed cock. Eddie gasps and twitches under his hands, but this time, Steve's hands hold firm. He's not making the same mistake twice. “I said no more feathers. I did not say I was done with you. Now be a good boy and hold still.” 

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #Hype's 1k follower ficlets #sub eddie munson #sub eddie week

[dizzy-after-dark]

Cauterized | Steve Rogers

BOOM MIC DROP: SMUT FOR THE END OF THE YEAR! Y'all didn't think I would not post once this year, did you. Well, here it is. I TRIED! Mwah; see you in 2024!

Tags: Angst (not really but yeah), SMUT, fluff

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)

Notes: UHHHHH 18+ BUCKOS; this is a continuation of Ignorant, which is the first part and angsty as FUCK but a personal fave of mine if I do say so myself; been really thinking about finishing my requests from over a year ago for Dinner At Dizzy's on my other account, @dizzydancingdreamer (masterlist linked if you're feeling peckish)

Warnings (what to expect, ig): oral (f recieving), fingering, sex (???), uhhhm lack of descriptive writing from a rusty author, sappiness, swearing, bad metaphors, shower sex, alcohol consumption (BARELY), size kink, over-use of the word "Stevie"

Word Count: 4.6k

She pushes the door closed, turning the shower on lazily. Her muscles ache as she twists the knob all the way to the left. Somewhere, sometime she was told about cauterization. You can seal wounds closed with fire— forcibly fuse the skin back together. She has no cuts. Nothing to fuse. And only hot water. However, maybe stepping into the scalding stream might fix the part of her brain that keeps replaying it all, over and over. 

Baby I— 

If anything, it might numb her. She would take that too right now. Hence the bottle on the counter, partially drunk and already open. She takes the first swig, the liquid like fuel to the inferno raging in her stomach, burning the rest of her in the process. The taste is acrid— she’s never been much of a drinker. She just wants to forget it all. Setting it down with a clunk, she strips out of grimey shirt, letting it puddle at her feet. 

Looking at the material, which at one point was a stark white but will now forever be a dingy gray, she laughs. Not really but, yeah, kind of— one of those half amused huffs, anyway. A pity laugh, for the state of her life. That shirt is practically trash. Even if she had the time, energy, or resources to wash it, there’s no way it’ll ever be the same. 

She should just throw it out. 

Is she even talking about the shirt anymore?

She kicks it into the corner, hands falling to the button of her jeans, swollen knuckles screaming as she fails a few times to push the little metal circle through the loop.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, and to the ghosts, and the spider she saw in the corner when she came in but didn’t have the heart to make the latter as well. 

She’s already made too many ghosts. 

“I, uh, I can help?”

None of those ghosts have ever answered before, though. 

Whirling around, fists balling in front of her face, she readies herself in less than a breaths time to send said ghost straight back to the grave—

“Woah, easy there, baby—”

Only to find Steve, his baby blues wide and a tad panicked but his hand nevertheless peeking through the crack of the door, reaching for her. Mind glazing over with confusion and, well, a fair bit of something russian and label-less, she blinks up at him and the damn door. She closed that— she remembers closing it… right? 

Her eyes flick down and the fire in her belly kindles a little more. 

“Are you kidding me?” She groans, the exhaustion an unwelcome guest in the cavern of her chest.  

His boot, right there in the doorway, holding the measly wooden traitor open. She never heard the damn click. Didn’t even bother to listen for it. Rookie mistake, honestly. She can’t even be mad, really. 

“Please just let me help.” Steve pushes past the door, both arms now extended towards her, but he doesn’t touch her yet. 

He’s waiting. She stays silent. Partly because she has no idea what to say— or what she wants— and partly because he hates it. He absolutely, agonizingly hates when she gives him the silent treatment. She watches his jaw tick, lips pressing together until they go white, and there’s a sick part of her that relishes in the cool satisfaction rushing down her spine. 

You made me like this.

But there’s also a part of her that mourns with him when he clears his throat, crystal eyes flooding over, liquid and glassy, and lowers his arms slightly. Not all the way. He’s hopeful, maybe. America’s sweetheart is always hopeful, that’s one of the things she fell in love with him for. 

That’s still Steve— her Steve. 

“I know—” Steve swallows, “I messed up. I just— you’re hurt, baby. Lemme’ help.”  

She huffs— why is it so fucking complicated? Why can’t they just be normal?

She is hurt. Nothing needs cauterizing but there’s no denying her mottled skin, blue-ish under the crappy motel bathroom lights. Her hands throb, joints screaming at her— when she turns to the mirror, she almost gags at the slight bald patch behind her right ear— fuck, that one had really stung. Absolutely ridiculous the way some people fight these days. 

Her silence is deafening. 

She wants to sob. It’s right there, in the hollow of her throat— she wants to scream. Maybe not at him but in general. She used to live in a penthouse, with all her friends, and the love of her life. Now what? She used to get hurt like this back then too but now it feels purposeless— what are they even doing this for if they have nothing. Have no one. It made sense when she still had him. 

Meeting his gaze in the mirror— disappearing a bit into fogged up glass but there regardless— she still has him. Kind of. But she still doesn’t say anything when she turns back to face him. The frown carved into her face feels vile— deep and disgusting and entirely real— but she can’t make it go away. She can’t stop the sniffle, either. Why can’t she just tell him she misses him?

“Fuck.” 

It’s mumbled under his breath. The Captain America, standing in some rundown wreck of a place off some lonely highway, is swearing. Because of her. Is this hell? It feels like hell. 

But, no, it can’t be, because his hands are so, so gentle as they cup her cheeks, thumbs softly dancing over the bruises, half assessing, half trying. Trying to do what, she doesn’t know. Wipe them away? Commit them to memory? She leans into his touch regardless, conceding ever so slightly. She won’t say it, but he can help. There isn’t a universe in which she would truly deny him. 

The first tear that falls isn’t hers, but his, landing on her forehead right before he buries his face in her hair, wrapping those supersoldier arms around her, trying and, well, failing not to crush her in the process. The tenderness in her broken body is worth it, though, because he smells like home, even if tinged with gunpowder and war. 

“I am so sorry—” he whispers, heartbeat erratic under her ear, chest heaving for breath— “I am so sorry I brought this on you. You’re hurt and it’s my fault.”  

Complicated. She fists his t-shirt as hard as she can— fists in until her hands go numb. It’s not fair how complicated it has to be for them. 

Steve didn’t throw her into the fight, didn’t slam his fist into her eye, or rip her hair out by the handful. Steve didn’t even make her come with him when he left; that was entirely her choice. But he did lose his mind a little bit. Power tripped a little too hard. Focused so much on keeping them all safe that he missed the part where he was just supposed to hug her— and that’s what sucked most— but he is now, right?

That has to count for something? 

He pulls back and her fingers tighten, steeling, tensing. He can’t go, even if she isn’t sure what they are anymore. 

The agony in his eyes when he draws the line from her balled fists holding on for dear fucking life to her own, misty gaze is indescribable. “Baby I don’t know how to fix this. I want to, I—” he clears his throat again and her frown carves even further into her skin, eyebrows drawing together— “I want to so fucking bad.”

He plants his forehead against hers and it aches, the warmth of his skin. “I don’t want to make it worse. I need you to tell me how to help.” 

There’s a stinging in her throat where the words simply don’t manifest. What the fuck is she supposed to say? Nothing, at all, really, because she doesn’t even know how to fix her and she’s not mad so there’s nothing to fix… but isn’t there? Isn’t there something between them that desperately needs mending? Isn’t she mad? 

Is it anger? 

Or is it something much more primal. 

No, there are no words she can tell him. She could show him, though. Maybe that will work.

Letting his shirt go, she watches the breath catch in his chest, stuck and frantic. She knows that feeling well— that icy desperation to keep holding on no matter what. But she’s only grabbing his hands, not leaving him, and he’ll see that soon so she continues to drag him towards the stupid, little button that her useless fingers couldn’t seem to undo. In hindsight, maybe they were just waiting for him. 

Realizing, his forehead is off hers quickly, eyes seeking hers. “What? I don’t—” She flattens his palms against her stomach, engulfing the button, and he breathes the last word out— “understand.” 

Her brows raise, cheeks still on fire but now also burning— yes you do. 

“Are you sure?” He asks but there’s a little click— the same one she hadn’t heard earlier— as his boot clad foot kicks the door properly shut, and she’s pretty sure he knows just how sure she is.

All it takes is her thumbs on his, prodding them towards her arch nemesis— damn you, Levi jeans— and the soldier is moving, not rough in his quick actions, but determined. The button is no match for Steve Rogers on a regular day, but today? Now that he has a goal? A starting place? The button may as well have disintegrated under his fingers. 

Her own hands fly to his shoulders, clinging to him as he tugs the blasted jeans off her legs, trying the best she can not to topple over with the sheer force of him. Material pooling at her feet, his palms smooth so slowly back up her now bare legs, rising goosebumps in their wake. She hasn’t been touched in ages— she feels kind of like an animal waking up from hibernation, disorientated and hungry. 

Grabbing at her hips suddenly, her ass is on the cool countertop before she even has the chance to get dizzy. Spreading her thighs with his own, he works on her bra next— this faded, hole ridden thing that if she wasn’t so engulfed in searing, licking desire, she’d probably be embarrassed about. But it’s gone so soon that she doesn’t have a chance and replaced instead with two, bulky hands that entirely engulf her breasts. 

They squeeze her skillfully— with purpose. Thumbs swiping delicious circles around her nipples, flicking this way and that, exactly how he knows she likes it— exactly the way that should have her as a mewling heap in his hold. But she’s not— she’s contained, even as her very skin thrums alive with anticipation. Is this revenge or is it just fucking complicated?

She can’t decide so instead she bites the moan clawing at her throat into small enough pieces to swallow, all the while tuning into something dark that sparks in his ever watchful gaze. 

She’s caught— he gets it now. 

“Really, baby?” He muses, palming her, squeezing just hard enough to give the touch a slight bite. His tone has her feeling like a deer in his headlights— like a freight train is barrelling directly at her and there’s nowhere to go— and she squeezes her thighs around him, welcoming the collision. “You think I won’t work for it?” 

She only blinks at him. Once… twice… 

Her panties are dropped somewhere into the abyss, long forgotten with the rest of her clothes, and his knees thud heavily against the tiled floor. Replacing his body, his head now hovers right in front of a different button, golden hair tickling her sensitive skin as he pulls her legs over his thick shoulders. His skin is warm but not as much as his balmy breath which hits her clit, teasing her into a mess, hands curling around the edge of the counter. 

Come on, Steve. 

But, no, he doesn’t give in to her just yet. First, he turns to her inner thigh, sucking her skin into his mouth with bruising pressure before letting it go with a pop. He peers up— nothing. Moving to the other one, he whispers quick kisses over her sex but never lingers, only biting into her flesh once more once across her mound, teeth almost teasing a whimper from her this time but no, she’s not budging. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t driving her crazy. Inside, she screams— she craves. C’mon baby just give it to me. Outwardly, her hands drunkenly find his hair, tugging at his soft locks. Now, now, now she chants furiously.

He unseals his lips from her thigh, peering up, less dangerous and back to being her ever hopeful boyfriend— is her her boyf— He kisses her folds, spongy lips lingering a moment, rendering her blank and feverish. Angelic— he’s angelic. From under his long lashes he all but begs her, his dark eyes starving and wanting, but his hands are so soft on her hips, massaging deep into her. It’s this mixture of puppy dog pleading and a knowing of sorts— he knows she’s going to cave eventually.

How does he do that? 

“Words? Please?”

She only pouts and, again, the switch flips. “Fine.”

The word is punctuated with the warm, wet stripe he licks up her center, flicking his tongue languidly over her clit. For as rushed as he’d started this mission, he’s truly never been one to speed through his meals, preferring instead to devour her slowly— expertly— tasting her thoroughly like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile her body pulses, teetering dangerously already on the knife-sharp edge of too much and too little as he masterfully carves her out. 

Her hands, which had moments ago tried to pull him closer, now use his hair as handles to keep herself from toppling off the counter when he slides her closer to him, burying his face fully into her heat. Heels digging into his back, she watches the spot where his shirt rides up intently, consumed not only by the harsh sucking on her clit but also the tanned, muscled skin peeking out and then disappearing below his own jeans, taunting her. Why hadn’t she taken it off him first? 

She doesn’t have time to think much more about it though because he’s ravenous and she may as well be ice cream, sweet and sticky, melting all over him, dripping down the sides of his face and fingers as they begin prodding against her. They tease, pushing into her but not quite far enough— hard enough.  

His gaze on her is overpowering— it’s deliberate. 

“Y’know,” he speaks against her, the vibrations making her tense, “you can just tell me what you want ‘and I'll do it.”

Her mouth is like sandpaper— her brain, uncooperative. This push and pull is becoming lethal, the next few pokes of his tongue honey slow and spine jolting. Please— she wants to beg. She’s so empty. So, so, achingly empty. Would his fingers even be enough? At this point, it’s as though he would need to crawl into her very chest to fill her up the way she needs to be. How could her words even convey something so needy? 

“Anything, baby. Whatever you want.” 

They can’t, so they don’t, but for the sounds she refuses to make, he doubles in his own, moaning his frustrations right against her. If he can’t make her say anything, he damn sure is going to make her do something. That’s probably why he finally caves, pushing his fingers in to the hilt, and she was stupid to think they couldn’t fill her, the slight burn of them not at all foreign but definitely intense. 

As they bury themselves in her over and over and over again, she bucks against his hand, chasing the start of a little ball of electricity growing in the pit of her stomach, getting higher and higher with every twist of his fingers. Combined with the incessant flick of his tongue— she’s a goner. Stifling the moan, her teeth find home in her lip, biting so hard her mouth gains a slight tang that excites her even more. What’s she even doing? 

Wouldn’t it be more fun if she just let loose? Isn’t that what’s been missing the whole time? The fun? 

When she sees the glint in his piercing stare— impish despite everything they’ve been through— she gets it. It’s hopeless— she is and they are but they’re together and the fun isn’t gone— she’s done. He earned it.

“Stevie—”  she finally cries, animalistic; it doesn’t sound like his name but he must know it is because, even with the intense throbbing consuming her entire body, she can feel his shoulders soften under her thighs— “please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

“That’s it baby,” he coos against her clit, voice raw, compliant as he continues to pump his fingers in time to her squirming, “that’s my girl. I missed that pretty voice of yours.” 

At what point the first orgasm turns into a second, she isn’t sure. It’s all one big blur of her whiny moans, wanton and liquid body, and his hushed prayers against her flushed skin, tongue lapping relentlessly against her. More baby; I know you can give me more. She doesn’t so much hear them as she does become them, absorbing them into her skin. That’s it angel— so good, so good for me.

She can feel him drinking in her mumbled, jagged noises, some words but others mere syllables, coaxed out of her by tongue and fingers all the same. Steve— honey— mmph, fuck, right there— oh my— the words pour out now, dam broken beyond repair, and for some reason, or maybe a lack thereof, it spurs her on even more, a freed woman if ever there was one— 

“Oh my god, Stevie!”

It’s maddening— he’s maddening. 

He’s relentless. 

It isn’t until she yanks his still-eager mouth away from her, stomach iron-tense from way too much overstimulation, does he slowly draw his hand reluctantly back from her shuddering body. His other arm unwinds from where it’s been snaked around her knee, anchoring her to him throughout the duration of his worship. Now pushing him upright, holding him just near enough to where she can hear his labored breaths but not feel them, she shivers, cold as ice without his heat. 

He stares down at her, unmoving, and her heart jumps in her chest. She doesn’t understand— he’s just standing there while she shudders, breathless. His shirt is stretched, no doubt from her pulling at it, and in noticing the damage she remembers how she’s completely naked and he’s completely not. Exposed doesn’t even begin to touch how she feels. 

She wraps her arms around her chest, knees drawing up to tuck under her chin. “Steve?” 

She’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly have him next to her— to have his furnace like warmth melting into her skin almost every minute. Now that she’s had her first real taste of him again, she’s de-acclimated to being alone. She needs him.

“C’mere,” she begs, shaking and a bit confused, why isn’t he touching her still, “please, Stevie, come back.” 

When her fingers finally swipe against his shirt, barely snagging it, he flinches, coming back to her. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean—” 

She flings herself at him, heart off kilter and erratic in her chest as her lips press against his, swallowing his apologies and hoping beyond anything else that he just catches her, like he always does. He does, kissing her back fervently— reverently. His tongue, tinted with her essence, scoops into her mouth the same way he had been between her thighs. She welcomes the way he takes charge, knowing he holds her against him with every ounce of strength he has.

“—’m sorry,” he pants into her mouth, clearly not satisfied with the success of her attack, “so, so sorry baby.” 

He repeats the words deliriously. Presses them into her hair and against her temple, on her chin and both her cheeks. He especially feeds them to her, word for word, against her lips, soft at first and then rough, frenzied. He’s not talking about right now. He’s still back in that apartment; the fallen angel amongst the rubble, wings too broken to just leave it. 

It’s not complicated. And it’s not revenge, because she could never make him feel worse than he already does, nor would she want to. So, in between kisses and apologies, she answers.

“I know, Stevie.”   

“It’s ok— we’re ok, Stevie.” 

“Steve, stop— I love you!”

He stops. He sets her down, bare feet planting unsteady against the ground. He steps back. What?

“Stevie?” She questions, already moving forward, but his arms, sweeping over his head, towing his shirt up and off, halt her in her tracks. 

Oh.  

 Oh. 

This time, when she says his name it's only a breathy moan, fingers searching for his belt loops and hooking him towards her. In the time it takes for her hands to find the button— this one, thankfully, popping open immediately— there must be a god somewhere who didn’t abandon them in the rubble— he’s back on her, one hand carefully threading through her hair, dragging her mouth back to his, while the other pushes the rest of his clothes to the ground.

“I love you, I love— ah, fuck,” he hisses as her hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over his velvety tip.

For the first time, she smiles against his mouth, calm. “Language, Rogers.”

He pulls back, one neat eyebrow flicked up, but there’s humor in his eyes— no more tension. No more worry. Just fun. He leans down, nuzzling his chin down the side of her face, breath fanning her ear. Her hand stutters as it tugs on him, dragging up and down. He’s so hard— it’s been so damn long. 

“Thought I was Stevie, baby?” It’s an absent minded tease, blush lips parted even after the fact, glued to the way she touches him. 

In turn she watches his face, crowned in a mussed up halo of gold, some of which sticks to his forehead but most falling at every which angle, a product of her thighs sealing themselves around him. She can’t say that she’s never seen him this disheveled but she’ll never get used to it. He’s perfect— she makes him so messy. 

Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one enjoying herself, though, if the heaviness of him between her fingers, rutting into her palm is anything to go by. She squeezes harder, testing something, and he groans something almost inhuman against her neck. Guttural. He’s so close already. It fuels her like nothing else, tickling the part of her that just wants to please. She’s making reparations, too. Speeding up, she works him faster. Come on, honey.  

“Stevie—” she echoes and the next thing she knows, he’s pulling her off him, pushing her towards the steam which billows out from behind the curtain. 

From the moment her feet touch the warm, wet surface of the shower floor, everything is a blur. The water sprays over her harshly, but only for a moment, before he overpowers it with his own, massive body, just as searing against her skin. She registers the slick splat of her back against the wall, a grunt— missed this, baby, and her own feral howl as he slams into her. There’s no waiting, no tiptoeing, only his cock sealing them together furiously once more. 

One of her legs is hiked up impossibly far, hinging near his hip where his hand crushes her to him. The other leg holds her up— barely— heel raised, toes splaying for grip as she reaches higher. He’s just so big— so tall and so thick. So impossible to adequately open herself to without him fully lifting her but she wants to try so she does her best to meet his brutal pace, clinging around his neck desperately. 

If his fingers had filled her entirely, his cock is almost unbearable. She relishes it, though, the way she can almost feel him in her damn throat with each and every drag. It’s mesmerizing, the way there’s no need for adjustment— for remembering. He knows her body like it’s his own and it makes her drool with pleasure.   

The slapping of their skin together proves to be louder than the rush of the water, but not more so than Steve whose mouth is working over time, ladeling praises directly into her ear, soaked, stubbly chin grating deliciously against her temple.

“You look so pretty baby,” he hums, staring mesmerized at their bodies to where he slips in and out of her, “ look at you taking me so well.”  

And she does. 

It’s a lewd notion, the way she can see exactly where he is inside her by the way her belly ripples with his plunges, but one that makes her gasp nonetheless, spasming around him which is also visible to both of them. Loosening one of her hands from its vice grip on his shoulder, he places it on the exact spot, urging her to feel just how big he is. With every sloppy push and pull, she does feel it, and it sends her reeling.

“See that?” He rasps, and she can only nod, mouth agape enough for some of the water falling off his hair to drip into it. 

She swallows it, tongue somehow so, so dry despite everything. Her nerves are on fire, everything so much slower than it should be. 

The agonizing pull of his hand on hers, dragging her own fingers under his to toy with her clit. 

The little circles that take hours to complete but nurture the current running through her veins regardless. 

The fucking torturous in and out of his cock— taunting her, languidly pounding her for what feels like an eternity— she can’t think. She’s in the water but she feels under it, too, foggy and pent up. She just wants to cum—

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—” 

“—Stevie!” 

She breaks through the sluggish pleasure into electric and all consuming waves, head falling against the wall as his hips stutter against hers, pumping once, then twice, before falling still. Each time, she clenches harder, babbling something gritty and foul and incomprehensible. Something along the lines of holy fucking shit baby but its blurred with searing, pulsing pleasure.

There’s stars behind her eyes and steam in her nose as he falls against her chest, sopping hair tickling her hypersensitive skin. Him pulling feels like what two exposed wires touching must— all sparky and hot. It’s too much. 

“Mmm, careful baby,” she mumbles and he chuckles. 

“Of course.” 

The rest is truly a lull. Steve doesn’t bother gathering their clothes, only her, carrying her limp body to the bed and carefully setting her under the covers, dripping and all, before joining her. If she weren’t so sleepy, she would have scolded him. But she is and her eyes are refusing to stay open, let alone give him that look. It’s all she can do = to seek his warm skin once more, slithering against his body and rooting herself there. 

Cauterized, or something like it. 

#Steve Rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel smut #MCU smut #Avengers smut #dizzy is BACK #did you miss me?

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part Eight

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight: Smut/unedited

The cameras flashed like lightning snaking across a dark sky. Blinding and magical all at the same time. I held the soup ladle with my left hand as I’d been instructed to, my massive black diamond ring on display to my audience. I smile widely, making sure to remember that the smile needs to reach my eyes to be believable. Before me was a line of homeless individuals waiting for me to serve them. I’d done work with the soup kitchens before, but this was the first time that I had photographers watching my every move. I try to focus on the people I’m serving, the camera flashing as daunting for them as it is for me. I recognize some of the faces of the people in line and I greet them accordingly, an action that makes the cameras flash in another quick frenzy. I serve the food and try to remain focused on the people I want to bring awareness to. I mentally remind myself that this is why I’m doing this. 

Well, one of the reasons why I’m doing this. Aside from keeping my in-laws happy and aiding their goal of making Colby Brock’s image better to the public. Aside from the fact that if I don’t do this my father could pay the price for my insubordination. 

Worse than he already had. 

I try to shake the thought from my head, my focus returning to my work. I try to remember all of the points that Sam had walked me through this morning. The angles I needed to stand at and the facial expressions I needed to maintain appearances. 

Appearances that couldn’t indicate the agony bubbling beneath the surface of my skin.

The true nature of the family I married into. The true nature of what my husband got up to on behalf of his family. My smile grows as I serve the last person in line, my eyes locking with the cameras. 

As if on command, I feel Colby’s hand on the small of my back as he joins me at my side, the sensation uncomfortable and alien after the past seven months since that night. Months that had made us strangers once more. Except when there was a camera pointed in our direction, then we had a show to put on. He kisses the side of my head, my eyes fluttering closed. My heart skips a beat when he does this, the spark still evident between the two of us. 

God I loved him. Despite everything I loved him. Despite the distance that had grown between us.

He feels it too. The spark. I can tell by the way that his fingertips lightly rub where his hand is resting on the small of my back. A small reassuring gesture. I open my eyes and look over at him, our gazes meeting. 

Suddenly, it feels like it’s just the two of us. The way that it should be.

I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t. Instead, I simply smile up at him and he smiles back. The rest of the event passes by in a blur and before I know it, he’s holding my hand and guiding me to the car. Making sure the cameras see that we’re holding hands. It’s not until we are in the car and he pulls away that we drop the act. His hands grip the wheel tightly as he drives, his eyes on the road ahead. 

I can feel he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s quiet. 

The way that he had been for the past seven months. Since that night.

Sure, we still fucked, but he seemed more reserved around me. More determined to only truly interact when he had to. He slept next to me every night and brought me along with him to his meetings with his associates, but I couldn’t place why he was so distant. I kept repeating that night in my head and I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. He was just hot and cold and hard to read. 

Without realizing it, I’d been watching him for too long and he noticed. His jaw clenches and his eyes remain focused on the road ahead.

“There isn’t anyone watching us, you don’t have to pretend you care.” 

His words hurt and I can’t stop my eyes from watering. I couldn’t understand why he was so mad at me. I hadn’t done anything to warrant this response. I’d done what I was told the entire time we’d been together. This entire arranged marriage, I’d been good and now he was punishing me for something I wasn’t aware of.

I just couldn’t figure out what that something was. 

I hadn’t been unfaithful or strayed. All that had happened was my father got hurt by his parents and ever since then he was distant. The tears sting my eyes as I look down at my dress covered stomach. Down at the secret I’d been keeping from everyone for the last three weeks. 

I’m pregnant.

The removal of the I.U.D. had been a success and now I was carrying the heir to the Brock Family Estate. 

Just like I’d been told to.

The tears slip out silently as the weight of my situation hits me. I know that I needed to tell Colby, but I didn’t want to. Not when he’d been acting like this. I wasn’t even sure he’d be happy about the baby. 

Would he be upset that things were going to change? Would things get worse when they did? 

I tuck my hair behind my ear and remain silent as I break down in the passenger seat. I don’t know if he’s noticed, but I decide that I don’t care if he has. All I do is try to control my breathing as he pulls up to the gate outside of our house, buzzing security to let us inside. He parks the car in our driveway loop and I don’t wait for him to turn off the car before unbuckling and getting out of the vehicle. 

My feet move along the gravel of the driveway and up the thirteen marble stairs that lead up to our front door. I hear him turn off the car and get out. The sound of the car door slamming behind him the moment I reach the front door. I leave the door wide open for him, but I don’t make it too far into the house before I’m met by Sam’s sympathetic blue eyes. He sat on the steps of the grand staircase, waiting for an update on today’s events.  A look of confusion flashes over his face as he studies the tears escaping me. He glances behind me at Colby when the front door closes. 

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

He growls at Colby, standing up from the steps. The blonde brushes past me, his hands going for Colby’s black button up as he pulls his friend in close. I turn to face the two of them, my tear soaked face now evident to Colby. From the look on his face, he didn’t know I was crying, but now that he does an undetectable look flickers over his face. 

“Sam, please. He didn’t do anything to me. He just said something rude in the car. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

The words fall from my lips in a sad desperate tone. A tone that causes Sam to look over at me. His grip is still firm on Colby, who doesn’t move out of Sam’s grasp. 

“Don’t say sorry Emilia. This entire time that you’ve been here it’s always you apologizing for his behavior towards you. It’s fucked up and I’m tired of it…”

He pauses looking from me to his friend and adopted brother.

“... You’ve been treating her like shit since our parents hurt her father. As if it’s her fault or something, but if it's anyone’s fault it's yours. You’re supposed to protect her and you should’ve been the one to talk to mom and dad before anything happened to her dad in the first place. Instead, you ran away and did a delivery that any one of the guys could’ve done. You just didn’t want to step up.” 

Sam’s words hit hard to my husband and I can tell. It's in the way that he looks at Sam, the bitter look of disgust that overtakes his handsome face. My tears worsen at the words, my hand moving to my nonexistent baby bump. I can’t help but the feeling of heartbreak that I’m experiencing will kill me. Surely, I would shatter underneath all of this weight. 

“I’m pregnant.”

The words fall from my mouth in a gasp. Like a breath that had been held for too long. The desire to keep it a secret seemed to vanish under the tension I hadn’t been expected to feel today. The moment I speak, it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Two sets of eyes stare back at me in shock. Two mouths agape at the newest development. A sob escapes me as I look at Sam, my heart breaking at the look of kindness that he directs to me. Over the past seven months, Kris, Celina, and Sam had been my only friends at the house while my husband had chosen to ignore me. 

Until he wanted a fuck.

Even the other guys that worked with Colby had come by to visit. I’d become friends with Corey, Johnnie, Jake, and Nate. What would they all think when they found out? Would they look at me like Sam is right now? I hate to imagine how disabling that would be to experience. How their looks of sympathy might be the straw that breaks me completely. 

“When were you going to tell me?” Colby’s voice rasps in a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The tone of his voice is enough to make me want to snap and instantly I’m defensive. 

“I don’t know Colbs, considering you only truly talk to me now when there’s a camera stuck in our faces I wasn’t sure.”

His eyes narrow at my words. 

“What about last night when I was balls deep in you? Or this morning? You didn’t think to tell me then?”

There’s a smirk that finds the corner of his lips. The same smirk he wore whenever he talked about fucking me. A smirk that normally got me hot and bothered, but now made me want to slap him. This time I look at him with a clenched jaw, anger radiating through me. 

“Fuck you…”

The words come out in a broken sob. It had been years since I’d let myself get so angry that I cried.

“... All I’ve done is love you. Despite everything and every gut feeling that told me not to. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be the bright spot in this fucked up situation and for months you were. I thought maybe everything would be okay, but you took that from me the same night your parents chose to threaten me…”

Sam lets go of Colby and moves to my side, holding me against him as I break down, my knees wobbling. 

“... And the worst part is I’m still in love with you. Even though it’s clear you aren’t anymore. I don’t know what happened that night, but I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been mourning you and you didn’t even notice. I’ve been so alone even when you’re next to me and it's been agony.”

I stop speaking because I can’t say another word. I just crumble against Sam and his arms wrap around me as I sob against his chest.

 I hear him mutter something to Colby about ‘getting the fuck out of here’. 

But I can’t bring myself to care. 

I’m so tired of caring.

—

I fell asleep on the couch after spending hours crying into Sam’s lap, his fingers playing with my hair to soothe me. I don’t know how long I’d been out before I felt someone lift me from the couch, their arms strong as they held me tightly against them. The smell of his cologne is all that gives me the hint that it's Colby’s arms I’m in. Despite our arguing earlier, he gives my head a soft tender kiss. His grip on me tighter when he starts to take me up the stairs. It’s this softness that had made me fall in love with him in the first place, a softness that I’d been missing recently. 

“I got you darling.”

He whispers once he reaches the top of the stairs. I’m still out of it enough to be sleeping, but awake enough to know that he’s bringing me to our bedroom. Once we are inside, he lays me down on the bed and makes sure to pull the comforter up over me. I feel him brush the hair out of my face as he sighs. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I have to say this now or I won’t say it at all. The dinner with my parents was harder than I let on. Yeah I cried like a little bitch and you saw that, but it's the way my parents view me that really got under my skin. I have a history of messing up or not being enough of what my parents wanted me to be. I never worked hard enough, I never kept secrets well enough, and then I messed up with you. The thing that happened with your father should’ve been avoided, I should’ve done the talking that night we had dinner with my parents. They saw that you’d become someone I cared for, that I didn’t have you under control and in line with what they wanted you to be with me. So they hurt you to punish me. I am so sorry about that...” 

He pauses to take another deep breath.

“... That’s why I’ve been so distant. If they knew that I was keeping you in line and not letting my feelings for you cloud my judgment they wouldn’t hurt you again. But in doing that, I’ve hurt you and I honestly didn’t mean to do that. I am still in love with you Emilia. I’m so proud of you and your ability to keep your head up in all of this. I promise to be better about communicating and I promise to be a better husband. I promise to be the best dad I can be. I want a future with you, not just an image in front of a camera. I hope that you’ll let me do that. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

He finishes speaking without realizing I’ve opened my eyes. He’d been looking forward the entire time that he didn’t notice until he felt my gaze. A small smile finds his lips when our eyes meet.

A smile I don’t return. Instead I look at him blankly, my body still tired from the hysterics brought on by today. I’ve never cried as hard as I cried today. My heart hadn’t ever shattered as badly as it had today. A simple sorry wasn’t going to do it and I needed to stick to that. Even though the sight of him in only his black sweats causes my mind to wander for a second, desire laced deep within me despite it all. 

“This cycle needs to stop. The hot and cold bullshit has to stop. We are having a baby and I’m not going to allow this type of atmosphere for them. You’re either all in now or I’m not doing this anymore. I’ll have our child, but I’ll stay in my own room and keep up appearances for the sake of my father’s life. But if you don’t want us then I’m done.”

He listens to what I have to say, truly listens to every word and contemplates. Not even when I sit up in our bed and look at him does he speak. He really mulls it over and I do appreciate that. We’d both spoken more words to each other in the last few minutes than we had in months. 

I missed hearing him speak.

I shake the thought out of my head as he reaches for me, his hands pulling me onto his lap. I try not to meet his gaze as he does this, but it’s no use. He places a hand under my chin and focuses his attention on me. 

“I want us.” 

He speaks so softly that I almost can’t hear him. Like he’s afraid that he’s going to upset me again if he speaks any louder. I place my hands on his bare chest and breathe out a deep sigh as I trace the tattoo above his heart. He’d explained what it was to me once, a symbol that meant ‘protect your heart’ , something I thought was cute, but now I look at it and I wish that I’d done the same. My heart had been through the ringer for the last year.

Year.

The thought enters my head as I recall the date. One year ago today we’d been married. An anniversary that snuck up on us both with cruel irony.

“We’ve been married an entire year Mr. Brock.”

I state lifelessly as I swallow hard. He nods as if he already knew it, something that makes today worse. He had to choose today of all days to be an ass. 

“Has it all been bad, my darling wife?”

He asks. Eyes trained on me. 

“No, some of it has been good. But my husbands a real dick sometimes.”

I respond quickly, unable to stop myself from smiling when he feigns offense. He places his hands on either side of my waist and I can feel what direction we’re heading in. He bites down on his bottom lip and focuses on how my breathing hitches. Slight annoyance with my own body’s inability to chill the fuck out overtakes me briefly, before he places his lips to mine in caution. 

I don’t bother trying to fight how good he feels as he kisses me. Nor do I bother with the fact that he’s lifting up my dress, his hands finding my thighs. Instead, I lean into it, my hands on top of his as I help him unwrap me. He groans at the action, satisfied that I want him as badly as he wants me. But wanting Colby has never been an issue for me, which is how I’d ended up in this mess in the first place. I can feel him getting hard beneath me, harder as I grind myself against him. An action that practically causes him to growl in sexual frustration. He moves me off of his lap and into our bed, his body straddling mine. He keeps his attention on me as he slides my underwear down my legs and lifts my dress up. 

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

He rasps, placing light kisses on the inside of my thighs. I lay there with my eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of him kissing further and further up my thigh fills me with anticipation. Anticipation that feels worth it the moment I feel his mouth against my aching core, his tongue dipping inside of my slick sex. The feeling of his mouth was always incredible, but today it felt even better. Today I could feel the extra care he was spending on me as if his tongue was trying to atone for his actions earlier. My back arches into the bed beneath me as his tongue works on me, soft whimpers escaping me with each flick of his mouth. He works on me for several minutes of indescribable pleasure, my head spinning the entire time. I hear him chuckle darkly to himself as he can feel me getting closer to the edge. 

“Come on baby, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

He speaks in a lower register as he whispers the words against my needy sex. The invitation is all that I need to release, his tongue lapping up my orgasm with feverish need. A moan escapes my lips as I come down from my high. My hands grip the comforter I’m laying on top of as my chest heaves up and down. 

“Fuck, Colbs.”

I whimper as his mouth moves from me, his body suddenly straddling mine. In the darkness his pale blue eyes find me, his face serious as he studies me closely. I can tell he wants to say something, but that he’s unsure of what exactly to say. He knew words wouldn’t change my frustration. He needed his actions to reflect a change, but he wasn’t sure where to start. 

I didn’t know either.

But at this moment I make the executive decision to deal with all of that later. Instead I move my left hand to the back of his head, guiding his lips to mine. His breathing gets heavy, when I deepen the kiss and my fingers lace in his hair. Moments like this made me thankful for the electricity burning between the both of us. It was undeniable and magnetic. 

It had always been. Regardless of whatever else was happening at the time. 

A groan escapes him as my hips lift slightly, enough to cause friction between the two of us. I may have just came, but I was more than ready to feel him inside of me. 

It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this. Everytime felt like the first. 

The air around us is heated, our bodies needy for each other. I slowly move my hands from his hair, my fingertips ghosting along his toned body and down his chest. I reach his sweatpants, the pads of my fingers lightly toying with the fabric. I drag them down an action that causes him to chuckle. 

“You seem to know exactly what you want Mrs. Brock.”

He lets me drag the sweats down and to expose himself to me. A sight that I knew I wouldn’t ever get tired of seeing. For a moment he stares down at me in wonder, at the mess he’s made of me. The heap of uneven breaths and a look of desire in my eyes. I smile up at him, a smile he returns. 

“I’ll always want you, Colbs.”

My voice sounds more sentimental than I intended it to, but I meant every word. He knows I mean it as he looks down at me, his face sweet as he presses his lips back to mine. This kiss is slower, more cautious as if he’s trying to savor the moment. As we kiss, he aligns himself with me, the tip of his cock sliding in slowly. Another groan from him sounds against my lips as he allows himself to savor how tight I am around him. He breaks the kiss as he slowly starts to thrust inside of me, our eyes meeting once more. He’s so gentle as he fucks me, a slow satisfaction that I didn’t want to stop. 

We remain entwined in each other, his head leaning down to rest in the crook of my neck. Light kisses a trail along my collarbone as he continues moving in and out of me, my body moving with his in perfect rhythm. He marks me carefully, aware of where he’s leaving the marks. The gentle sucking of his lips sent shivers up my spine. He thrusts deeper and deeper inside of me and with each movement I feel the nerves of my stomach building up. I can feel him getting closer to the edge as he thrusts. 

“I’m going to cum Emilia, but I want you to cum with me too.”

He rasps against my skin, breath heated. I moan in response, unable to form a coherent word. As he thrusts once more, I feel myself spill over the edge at the same time he does. Filling me with his cum. 

We lay in heated silence as we try to catch our breaths, our bodies slowly coming down from their high. We remain entangled together as I feel his cock twitch inside of me one more time before he pulls out of me to lay at my side in our bed. His blue eyes remain on me as he studies me closely. 

“I really am sorry.”

Softly he speaks, his hand reaching out to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. I can hear how sorry he is, but again I need to see a change before I’ll fully believe him. 

“How do you feel about me being pregnant?”

I ask instead of responding to his ‘sorry’. I knew that we had to get pregnant because that’s what his parents wanted, but now that it was happening I didn’t know how he actually felt about it. We’d only briefly spoken about it prior to this moment. He sees the insecurity in my eyes and the uncertainty of this new chapter of our lives. 

“I’m excited. There’s no one else I would want to have children with, but…”

He hesitates, his brows furrowing as he chooses his words carefully. 

“...I’ve got to figure something out about my parents. I don’t want my parents to get their grubby hands on our child. They’re not going to do what they did to me to them. I have to figure out a way of standing up for us and what we need without them retaliating in some way.”

His fingertips run through my hair, his face full of thought. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t worried about the same thing. If I hadn’t worried that somehow they’d retaliate if we did one thing they didn’t approve of with our child. 

How else would they hurt my father?

The thought dances in my head, spinning out of control for a second before Colby’s hand moves to my face, his thumb lightly tracing over my cheekbone. The worry must’ve been evident on my face. 

“I’ll take care of my parents. In the meantime, you are literally growing a human inside of you so I want you to just focus on that. I’ll do the heavy stuff with my family.”

He draws me in against him, my head resting against his chest as he kisses my forehead. After what had happened with my father I wasn’t sure if I could fully relax. 

I trusted that Colby wanted to do the right thing, but could we out smart his family when they always seemed to be two steps ahead?

I wasn’t sure if we would be able to.

But God, did I hope I was wrong. 

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby x reader

[via-the-cryptid]

one of you, I don’t remember who but if it was you then here you go, mentioned Ellie befriending Ace. it took me a minute to realise that you probably meant the psychic little girl and not the pirate, but… now that I think about it, that’s actually a really good idea.

first off, I’m going to start by saying that I barely remember anything about Ace except hat she was super psychic, scared the Joker shitless once (good for her), and I think ended up dying as a result of her powers overloading her brain. I also remember Batman stayed with her until she died, but past that, nothing! so if my interpretation of her is off, well, that ain’t Via’s problem.

picture this: Ellie, approximately 14 in physical terms, only been alive for like a year or two. it’s post-Portal Incident II: The Reckoning, so her body is stabilized but her powers are going bat-crazy. she’s alone in an unfamiliar city with far too many restless spirits, being chased by actual supervillains, and she’s scared. maybe she ducks into an alley or hides in an abandoned building, and maybe one of those spirits was watching.

it’s been a long time since anything has caught Ace’s attention in the mortal realm. she likes to check in from time to time, see what’s happening as the world moves on without her, but it’s useless to linger over what she can’t affect. in the end, it only ever makes her miserable.

but sometimes, she can’t help but watch. sometimes, like today, she sees another little girl in trouble. she thinks, ‘she’s like me’, and she needs to know that this girl makes it through the night. even if she doesn’t, Ace still has enough power in death to show her a good dream before another ghost is added to Gotham’s countless number of lost souls. she follows the girl into the building, watches as she curls up in the corner, out of sight and barely there.

and then she looks straight at Ace.

“Did you want something?” Ellie asks, and she doesn’t break eye contact with the spirit floating in the doorway, even as her eyes go wide. “If you have unfinished business, I might be able to help, y’know, so long as you’re not trying to cause trouble.”

“You can see me.”

“Sure can. Kinda hard not to, your outfit’s pretty distinct.”

It’s the outfit she died in. Ace doesn’t really want to wear it anymore, not when she’s so far removed from that era of her life, but it isn’t like she knows how to.

“So,” Ellie says, “what’s your deal? Are you just here to watch it are you picking a fight? ‘Cause I’ll warn you, I don’t know how to play poker and everyone else so far has refused to reach me.”

Ace blinks. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Okay, cool. Are you… here to fight someone else?”

“No. I was watching you.”

“Well, that’s a bit unsettling.”

“You were alone, and you looked cold. I had to make sure you weren’t going to die in here.”

“Again?” Mutters Ellie, and Ace’s expression snaps from intrigued to guarded in less than a second.

“What does that mean?” She asks, glaring right at Ellie, and the other girl grimaces.

“Did not mean to say that one out loud. Okay, so hi, I’m Ellie, and basically I’m dead—”

“What? No, you’re not. I would be able to tell if you were dead.”

“Half-dead, then. I was a clone OFA guy who was half human and half ghost, ‘cept I was falling apart, so I decided to fix it by doing the same thing he did to become half-ghost, and I ended up standing inside a portal to the Ghost Zone while it was opening. Make sense so far?”

Ace’s jaw is dropping, but she can’t seem to find it in herself to care. “Half-dead.”

“Oh, we’re still stuck on that, then. Basically, if you— actually never mind, I don’t really know how it works. I can turn from ghost to human, if that helps.”

“How?” Ace whispers. “You said you were… falling apart. And a clone. And half-dead.”

“Well, now I’ve got two out of those three, since I fixed the first problem. Do you want to maybe sit down or something? This is gonna be a long story if you want the whole thing.”

Yes, she absolutely does. Ace float across the room and settles in next to Ellie, folding her knees up to copy the other girl’s pose. “My name is Ace.”

“Nice to meet you, Ace. I’m Ellie. Wait, I think I said that already.”

Somewhere on the other side of Crime Alley, unknowing of the two girls hidden away in a long-forgotten corner, Edward Nygma slams his head down on the desk as he once again fails to pinpoint the location of the mysterious white-haired girl.

#dani phantom #danielle phantom #danny phantom #dc comics #ellie phantom #ace batman #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #edward nygma #the riddler #Gotham Ghost AU

[oddaesthetin]

them as the type of s/o that knows immediately that their partner is pregnant when the owner of the uterus doesn’t even know themselves

“you’re creeping me out.”

“creeping you out how?”

you look at him with a scowl. unsure if he’s doing this on purpose to spite you or if he’s really just as clueless as the face he’s pretending to make. it’s the third time he’s done something like this today. it was six times yesterday, and five times the day before— he kept doing something nice for you. you made sure to keep count of it as it’s not every day that he’ll volunteer to do the laundry, vacuum the house, or go full length and prepare a whole massage treatment at home for you, with him being the masseuse of course. the weirdest thing he’d done today which pushed you to ask that question again is when he insisted to do your paperwork for you because quote-unquote, “you might overwork yourself.” yeah, you'd keep tabs on them, too.

you don’t doubt him being kind, but in your 3 years of relationship, this sure is the first time he’s put so, so much, unusual than the usual amount, of effort in treating you like you’re a queen.

with curious eyes still watching his focused figure, you asked, “why are you acting like this? did you do something bad? are you dying?”

he paused from what he was doing and looked at you for a short moment, before standing up to go to the bathroom.

confusion still hasn’t left your gaze as you followed him in there, and stopped, when he faced you with a grin that you’re not so sure if playful or pure smug. that was also when you noticed the thing he was holding.

“oh no. I am so not pregnant.” a deadpan statement. bewildered by the audacity.

“oh, sweetheart, of course, you are.” he assertively put the stick in your hand and gave you a nudge, which you think is for motivational purposes. “come on, try.”

“did my uterus migrate onto you or something to make you that certain, that I am, indeed, carrying a child?” you asked while pushing him out of the bathroom and closing the door.

“my child.” he giggles. “our child.”

you started to undo your pants when he followed with the usual dramatic sigh, “my sweet honey, you never fail to make me appalled by how you still find the audacity to question my ability and intelligence on these kinds of things.”

you remained quiet doing the business. silence reigned as you both were waiting for the result. just as you were feeling the saying “it feels like forever” with how long it was seemingly taking, he spoke again.

“five minute’s up. it should be done by now.”

you rolled your eyes at the tall know-it-all outside your bathroom door.

with the silent dropping of your jaw, you hastily opened the door and stared him straightly in the eye. your face modeled the emotions of surprise, shock, and amazement, while he let out a loud chuckle and shook his head.

“how the hell did you know?”

with eyes sparkling and lips beaming with smug and glee, crossed arms, he leaned against the door frame. “aside from the fact that I’m undoubtedly absolutely smart, if it’s you, of course, I’ll know.”

—-

and u kissed after that and did all the scenarios you wanna have on this little drabble’s ending lol

— Osamu Dazai, (and Nakahara Chuuya, YES YES I SEE HIM BEIN LIKE THIS except for the tall part JK), Edogawa Ranpo, Saigiku Jouno, Ryouta Kise, Tsukishima Kei, Rintarou Suna, Oikawa Toruu, Tetsurou Kuroo, Satori Tendou, Koshi Sugawara, Yaku Morisuke, (and Terushima Yuuji, too!), Satoru Gojo, Itadori Yuuji, Souma Shiki

————

this one’s supposedly for Dazai only but I remembered a lot of these characters while writing so y the hell not

LMAO I CHANGED ALL THE UPPERCASED LETTER INTO LOWERCASE CAUSE I WAS BORED & IM IN AN ATTEMPT TO MAKE MYSELF SLEEPY CAUSE IT’S ALREADY FCKING 5 IN THE MORNING BUT 🥲 BUT IM STILL WIDE AWAKE AF TO NO AVAIL

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #haikyuu #haikyuudrabbles #osamu dazai headcanon #osamu dazai #osamu dazai imagine #osamu dazai drabble #osamu dazai fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuuheadcannon #haikyuu fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna scenarios #tendou satori #tendou x reader #sugawara kōshi #hq sugawara #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo fluff #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #cool doji danshi #souma shiki #souma shiki fluff

[chiiyuuvv]

SOHEE MINI SERIES PART 1.

1.9k words

For the poll: @ohmykwonsoonyoung , @kissohee (i decided to combine it since its basically the same)

Taglist -> @snowyseungs , @eun-luv , @cr1tzen , @cupofmelatea

taglist | masterlist

Celebration for 300 :( <3

His steady eyes pace around the room, a hand scratching the back of his nape and the other twiddling with his pencil, playing it off like he wasnt just staring at you. His eyes glance back to yours, finding that you were still looking at him, so he awkwardly ducks his head, faking laughing with his set of friends beside him.

'Go along with it' his eyes seemed to convey, the boys look at themselves, him, then at you. Sohee watches as their mouths turn into small 'o's, before faking a loud laugh, one slapping his knee while the other pointing.

"You should just talk to her," sungchan whispers into the annoyed males ears. "You've been staring at her for weeks." He exaggerates, his eyes widening as he looks at the boy. But no matter how many times sohee had to explain, no one would ever listen.

You see, yes its well known that sohee has been googly eyes over you for weeks, (hes pretty sure you know by now since hes so obvious) but he cant just walk up to you and start a conversation. What if he trips? What if he stutters? What if you dont like him? What if he makes you uncomfortable? That was his biggest fear.

Especially since you were so pretty and a tad reserved unlike his friends, he didnt know how to approach you; It made his heart jump.

He still remembers the first day hes laid eyes on you, his breath instantly taken away. Anton had invited you to sit at his table since you were working together for a project, and you needed to discuss who would do what.

The light shined on your face perfectly, complimenting your hair length as you sat on the small bench, a little smile on your face as you conversed with anton. Anton stopped talking to take a bite of his food, giving you the opportunity to look around the wide table; wonbin and shotaro laughing at a video, eunseoks head resting on sungchans shoulder, and seunghan annoying anton as he eats.

You look forward to find sohee staring at you, his jaw dropped open and small, quick blinks leaving his eyes. Who was he staring at? You think to yourself, turning to look behind you to only find your shadow, facing forward to see that he was still looking at you.

So you wave. Why not be friendly, you know? You watch as the boys face slowly turns red, frozen like a stone until he realizes you waved at him. It finally dawns on him, you just waved at him. Quicker than flash he snaps his head to his plate, taking a bite full of the cafeteria food, refusing to look in your direction.

A bit confused, you brush it off, welcoming anton back to your paused conversation as he was done eating, your forearms resting on the table as you get back to planning.

You had no idea how fast sohees heart was beating.

One look at you, one sound of your laugh, one accidental touch; he knew he had fallen deep this time, his face burning red at any simple interaction, if you were in the same room as him. He hated it. It was so embarrassing how easily flustered he got, only able to look at you when you turn your head, getting to know you more through anton. He still had to thank him.

"Shoot." Sohee mumbles under his breath, looking down to see that his phone was about to die. "Eunseok hyung!" He calls for the older, swinging back on his chair to see him better. "Let's switch spots, so i can charge my phone."

"Hmm..." eunseok thinks to himself, a finger tapping his chin. "Nope." He finally says with a smile.

"What?! But theres a plug right beside you."

"No there isnt." A voice calls, seunghans, as he plugs his charger in. "But i know where another one is.." he says in a flirty tone, wiggling his eyebrows with a little giggle at the end.

Sohee scans the room confused, before his eyes widen, his head shaking profoundly. "Oh no.. no, no, no."

"Yep!" Seunghan exclaims, the boys laughing at sohees red expression. There was another charging port, yes, but it was right beside you. Great!

"Just go!!" Anton pushes him out of his chair. "Shes really nice, i promise."

But you guys arent

His heart hammering out of his chest as he nervously gulps, hearing a small "thank us later!" From shotaro as he tries to calm himself down.

"H-hey umm.." no stuttering!! "..can i plug in my phone, right next to you? I-its fine if you dont want to haha.."

"Oh yeah, sure!" You wave him off with your hands, looking up from your own phone. "T-thanks.." he mutters, looking over to find the boys gesturing him to sit beside him. And so he does, a little clumsily, a hand coming up to move some hair away from his face, the other awkwardly scrolling on his phone.

Sohee rests lazily against his chair, stealing a glance of you working on your laptop, your mouth curled up to blow some of your bangs annoyedly, your chin resting on your raised knee. It seemed like you needed help with something.

Sohee steals another glance at you before batting his eyes away, looking back at his phone when he sees something out of the corner of his eye. There he found wonbin, frantically shaking around in his chair. He was trying to say something to sohee, the latters eyes narrowed to decode what he was trying to say.

Go.. beside you.. snatch your phone.. and start texting??

Wonbin lets out a loud sigh, slapping his hand over his closed eyes before whipping his phone out of his pocket.

Go help her idiot!!

Sohees mouth turns into an 'o' when he reads wonbins text, looking at you with a concerned look then back at wonbin, he shrugs his shoulders. How??

Wonbin slaps his face over his closed eyes for the ninth time. Do you need help??

"Ahh.." sohee mumbles, his heart beating heavy against his chest at the thought of talking to you, but he does it anyway. Its now or never!!

"Um hey.." he taps your shoulder, a awkward smile on his face as his voice was barely above a whisper. "D-do you need any help? I couldnt help but notice you struggling."

A small smile appears on your face, shaking your head with a light chuckle leaving your lips. "No its fine.. you wouldnt understand my teacher anyways."

"Mr. Han?"

"Yea- wait, how do you know?" Your eyebrows raise, looking at him expectedly as he nervously gulps. How was he going to get out of this one?

"I um.. it says it right there." He stammers, pointing to the corner on your laptop, the words MR. HAN typed proudly in all caps.

"Oh!" You let out a tired laugh, "sorry, i didnt notice."

"Yeah.." he lets out a laugh of his own, scratching the back of his head as he looks over, finding the boys silently cheering him on. He turns his head with a light blush on a cheek, looking over to find you staring at him. The view makes his heart jump, his eyes widen and his lips parted, his throat suddenly feeling dry. "I, um-"

"You're in my class too." You cut him off, tapping your pencil against the side of your head while thinking to yourself. Yeah, you've totally seen him before, outside of this class, and lunch. It was making sense now.

"Oh yeah! I didnt notice you!" A complete, total lie. Of course he saw you, and of course he was staring at you the entire time. You were too busy typing up your essays to notice.

"Me either!" You chuckle, feeling a bit guilty. "Its so hard to see students other than those couples that block the view of everything."

Sohee lets out a gasp. "You find that annoying too?" He points at your nodding figure, clicking his tongue, "they arent going to last long anyways, just break up and go home."

You laugh at his statement, his cheeks going rosy red as you nod again. "You know," you add, taking a breath. "I hear one breaking up with the other by playing the song candy, by nct dream. It was so harsh and everyone was laughing."

"Wait you know that song too?? Thats one of my favorites."

"Yeah, i love cand- wait the song candy, or the food, candy?"

"Both, i guess." You share a laugh. "Yeah me too." You reply. "I guess we have something in common." You say in a flirtly tone, winking at the grinning boy before cringing at yourself.

"So sorry!! I promised myself i would have a mysterious personality, cant show you my real self until you've fallen in my trap." You joke.

"No, no, i get it. Its really cute."

"Its what?" You ask, turning your gaze from the boy to power off your computer.

"Nothing uh- whats your favorite candy??" He quickly changes the conversation, letting out an awkward laugh.

"My favorite candy.." you ponder to yourself, placing your foot onto your chair and resting your chin to your knee again. "Hmm, maybe sour patch? Hershey? I think those two are my favorites."

"I love sour patch! Sour, sweet, gone." He imitates the sour patch ads, a giggle leaving your lips. "Yeah, I-" the bell rings, signaling the period was over. "Aw." You pout, watching visable disappointed wash sohees face.

"See you tomorrow?" You ask, sliding your laptop into your bag and swing it over your shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, of course, sure." He gets up, nodding his head wildly as he gets up too, bring his hand up for you to shake. Wait, for you to shake?

A bit confused, you laughed at his gesture, slipping your hand into his with a shake. A wide smile plastered on your face before letting go and walking out the class, stopping one final time to wave at the frozen boy.

After a few seconds he waves back, his smile matching yours as his cheeks were light red, pumping his closed fist in the air. "Yes! Yes!!" He laughs to himself, finally able to talk to you after staring at you for weeks. The boys come to circle him, letting out a series of cheers, shaking the boy with such pride; your laughter from a few minutes ago filling his ears, your touch engraved in his mind.

The next day, sohee ditches the boys, claiming that 'he had to charge his phone again' even though it was at 100 percent. They let out a series of wiggled eyebrows and 'ohh's in a flirty tone, teasing him before letting him go sit with the love of his life, sohee giving you a shy smile and wave as you welcome him.

"Wait, wait." He says, sitting down in his chair and taking off his backpack. In one of the pockets, he pulls out a bag of sour patch kids, a gasp leaving your mouth as he hands them to you. "I um.. saw them when i went to the convenient store.. and i thought of you, so i got them for you!!" He shyly admits, a light blush forming on his neck at the soft smile you were giving him.

"Thats so sweet of you." Sohee lets out a smile, looking down to hide it. "Want some?" You open the pack, gesturing him to take some which he does, a soft giggle leaving his lips as he bites into the sweet but sour treat.

#kpop #riize fluff #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize #riize fics #riize scenarios #riize fanfic #riize fanficton #riize fanfiction #riize au #sohee riize x reader #riize x imagine #riize x you #riize x reader #lee sohee #sohee riize #sohee #riize sohee #riize sohee x reader #sohee x reader #yuvie sohee mini series“.”

[roosterforme]

Cockpit Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you jokingly told Bradley that you would be jealous of him spending so much time with his Super Hornet, he decided it was time to let you stake your claim on him in the cockpit.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swearing

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!

It was just a joke, something you had said to Bradley right before he left for his twelve week deployment. But he kept thinking about it, and the way you'd delivered it in your soft, bedroom voice. 

"Hurry back home to me. After twelve weeks, I'll be so jealous of all the attention you've given to you F/A-18, you might have to fuck me in the cockpit so I can assert my dominance."

He had spent countless hours with his aircraft, flying several missions and some over-water training sessions as well. His Super Hornet was his first love. But you were his forever love. And he had been going crazy just thinking about having you in the cockpit. 

Now that he was about to arrive back at the port in San Diego, soon he would be in your arms. Bradley was counting down the minutes until he was allowed off the aircraft carrier. When he walked down the ramp, he saw you in the distance, sitting on the hood of his Bronco and waving to him with both arms in the air.

"Bradley!" you called out, smiling so much, he couldn't wait to kiss you.

With a smile, he pushed through the crowd of people, eventually running across the asphalt in his combat boots until he was dropping his bag on the ground and reaching for you. 

"Bradley," you gasped as he ran his big hands up your bare thighs under your dress. You remained perched on the hood, but you leaned down to wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him.

"I love you so much. I missed you, baby," he said, grinning as you spread your legs a bit so he could stand between them. He caught your left hand in his and twisted your engagement ring around your finger before kissing your palm. 

"I missed you, too!" you gushed, kissing his lips and his cheeks. "Three months," you said in a softer voice as other officers and personnel walked past. "Do you have any idea how desperate I am for you?" You pulled him snug against you and kissed him hard. 

Bradley groaned as he dipped his tongue between your lips and tasted you. It was familiar and perfect, and you were exactly what he needed. But now your fingers were on his uniform buttons, and he was going to have to figure out how to get you to wait a little longer. 

"Come here," he told you, gently helping you slide down from the hood and wrapping his arms around you. He rubbed his nose along yours. "I'm desperate for you, too. Thought about you the whole time."

You bit your lip and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Let's go home." You started to make your way to the passenger side door, but Bradley caught you in his arms again.

"How about I try to convince you to wait a little bit longer."

You laughed softly, undoing two more of his shirt buttons and nipping at his neck. "What? Why?" you asked, running your fingers along his white undershirt and grabbing his dog tags.

But Bradley wrapped his hand gently around the front of your neck as he turned to his right, and used his thumb to turn your head that way as well. He stroked you with his fingertips until you were moaning softly, your eyes tracking his F/A-18 as an oversized forklift unloaded it from the carrier deck.

He put his lips right below your ear, teasing you with his mustache. "Do you remember what you said to me right before I left?"

You swallowed hard against his palm as he kissed your earlobe. "That I was going to wear out the deluxe pack of batteries you bought?"

He started laughing. "Well, besides that," he said, kissing your cheek and then looking you in the eye. "You told me you might need me to fuck you in my Super Hornet. Show the old girl who's really in charge."

Your jaw dropped open, and Bradley watched your excitement build as your eyes glittered and your pupils widened. "Are you serious?" 

He nodded and shrugged. "If you want to."

"I want to," you groaned. "Please?" Bradley responded by backing you up against the Bronco and kissing you until your upper lip was a little swollen and puffy from his mustache rubbing you. 

"Mmm, just gotta wait until they tow it back to the tarmac," he whispered, running his hand up your dress again as you pressed yourself against his cock which was thankfully being restrained by his thigh, khaki uniform pants. 

"How long will that take?" you asked breathlessly. 

"Not too long, baby," he replied, squeezing your thigh, nearly certain you skipped underwear. "Get in the Bronco."

You handed him the keys and hopped in while he threw his bag in the back. Bradley tried his best to drive safely across the naval base to the lot where he usually parked, but you were leaning across the seat, stroking his thigh and kissing his neck. 

"I really love how much you missed me," he grunted, pulling up to the security gate. "Baby, I need your ID."

You released him for a moment to dig out your driver's license for the security guard. 

He looked at your photo ID and then entered your information into his computer. "You're on the approved guests list," he said, adding your ID to the visitor's folder. "Make sure you check out before you leave. Enjoy your visit."

"Thanks, I plan on it," you told him with a grin, and Bradley was already laughing as he drove past the raised gate.

"Alright, baby," Bradley told you, parking the Bronco and turning the key. "Come over here."

He patted his thigh and you were immediately straddling his lap. Bradley tipped his head back against the headrest, and you leaned in for a filthy kiss, licking his bottom lip before sucking on it. He groaned, guiding you by the hips, letting you grind against him. 

"Oh, fuck," he grunted. "I missed you." He ran his hand along your butt, realizing his earlier assumption about your lack of underwear was correct. "Tell me you missed me," he whispered while you sucked on his neck. 

"I missed you, Bradley," you whimpered. He let his fingers trail down your ass until he was teasing your soaking pussy. "Oh!" you gasped loudly, releasing his neck with a surprised look on your face as Bradley shoved two fingers deep inside you. 

"Tell me again how much you missed me," he demanded with a smirk.

"I missed you all the time! Oh, fuck, Bradley!" You moaned his name over and over as he fingered you and brought his other hand to get reacquainted with your clit. Right when he could tell you were getting close, he pulled both hands away from you, and you looked at him like you wanted to cry.

You watched him lick his fingers clean. "Been too long since I got to taste you," he groaned, and you pressed your mouth to his, always loving to taste yourself on his lips. "Save the rest for the cockpit, baby," he said, scooping you up and climbing out of the Bronco with an outrageously hard dick.

"Okay," you whined, a little unsteady on your feet as Bradley led you toward the hangar entrance as the sun was starting to set. The two of you must have looked suspicious as hell to all of the personnel you passed along the way, but he just kept urging you along at a steady clip. Once the two of you were walking back out of the far end, Bradley could see his Super Hornet was now parked in its usual spot, right between Phoenix's and Coyote's. 

"You ready for this?" he asked you, glancing down at your smiling face and puffy lips. 

You nodded once, and Bradley laced his fingers through yours, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. "Let's make a run for it."

He counted to three, and the two of you were sprinting across the tarmac, trying not to laugh as you ducked past Coyote's aircraft. Bradley reached for his ladder, and pulled it down. "Follow me up," he told you with a kiss, making sure nobody was watching. He climbed the ladder quickly and waved you up. 

Your movements were slower and a bit more awkward, unused to doing this like he was. When you got to the top, he hoisted you onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest. You sat on his thigh, leaning forward to look at all of the controls and monitors, running your fingers along some of the toggles and controls. 

"This is so cool," you gasped, reaching for the throttle and yoke. "Why haven't you ever let me visit your cockpit before?"

Bradley laughed. "Because technically you're never supposed to see any of this shit, baby," he told you, kissing along your neck and pushing your dress up your legs. "Now weren't you supposed to be the one who was jealous of my jet? You're touching her so sweetly right now."

You gasped as he bit your jaw gently. "You want me to touch you instead?" You let go of the throttle and dragged your hand up his thigh to his pant zipper, and Bradley sat back while you turned and straddled him.

"You know I do," he growled as you unzipped his khakis and met his eyes as you slipped your hand inside his underwear and stroked him. 

"Now this equipment? This, I am familiar with," you whispered with a smirk as Bradley stroked your breasts through your dress, pulling the fabric down so your nipples peaked out.

He dipped his head down to kiss your tits while you helped him shimmy his pants down a bit in the tight quarters he wasn't used to sharing with another person. Especially not one who was rubbing her wet pussy up and down his length with her head tipped back. 

You were moaning now as he sucked on both nipples in turn. Bradley popped you out of his mouth, glancing around again in the twilight to make sure you were still alone. 

"Alright, baby," he said, urging your pussy up to take his tip. You obliged by sinking down around him with one slow, steady motion that had him gasping. "Fuck, fuck! Three months is a long time."

"Mmhmm," you hummed, riding him just as well as you always did, pressing your breasts into his hands for him to tease you. You held onto his shoulders and kissed him. "It was so long for me to go without you."

It had indeed been too long for him, too. And you felt fucking amazing. "I missed you and your sweet little pussy." You just groaned in response, riding him a little faster. "So fucking tight, and all mine."

You whimpered his name, making his eyes roll back. "Bradley. Are you all mine?"

He dragged one hand down from your tits and reached up your dress to tease you. "Gotta share me," he told you with a laugh. "With this pretty lady," He patted the side of his F/A-18 before squeezing your hip.

He flicked your clit, making your eyes go wide as you gasped. A few more strokes, and he could feel you started to clench around him. 

"I think you prefer me to her," you insisted, your voice breaking as you gasped, rolling your hips a little slower as your orgasm took over. 

"I definitely do. But don't tell her that." Bradley grabbed you by both hips, thrusting up into you with his feet planted on the floor until you cried out. He put his mouth on yours to keep you quiet as he groaned, filling you with his cum. 

Once you were quieter, Bradley tipped his head back and looked up at the stars that were starting to appear, still enjoying the feeling of you surrounding him. When your head came to rest on his shoulder, he whispered, "I can't wait to marry you next weekend."

You giggled, rubbing your nose along his jaw and kissing his cheek. "Oh, that will make her really jealous." Now you were the one patting the side of his jet, and Bradley kissed you hard on the lips. 

"Let's get home, baby. Our bed is a lot more comfortable for round two."

"And round three," you insisted. "And maybe round four?"

Bradley groaned as you pulled him out of your pussy, making a mess on the front of his khakis. "Anything you want."

A few minutes later, he was linking his fingers with yours and playing with your ring. You and he walked back to the Bronco with matching grins, and the evidence of your evening activities on his pants and dripping down your legs. 

-------------------------

Thanks for reading and please enjoy your visit to the cockpit.

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster x reader

[soursturniolo]

scare, alternate ending • matt sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader

summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare. alternate ending to the original scare

tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.

tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy

It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.

9 days late. And I’m never late.

I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.

I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?

I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.

Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.

Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.

My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.

I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.

“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.

“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.

“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”

“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.

“No! God no,” I immediately answer.

Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.

“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.

I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.

“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.

“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.

I take a deep breath.

“I’m late.” I state.

If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.

“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.

“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.

Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.

“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.

“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.

I stop pacing and just look at him.

“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.

“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.

“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.

“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.

“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.

We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.

“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.

“9 days,” I whisper.

“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.

“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.

I turn to him, knowing too.

“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.

“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.

“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.

“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.

“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.

“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.

“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.

“Okay, what?” Matt asks.

Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.

“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.

I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.

“No, that’s it,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.

“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.

Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.

We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.

I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.

“Let’s head to our room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.

“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.

He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.

“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I swear,” he tells me.

I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.

I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.

“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Yeah, baby,” he says.

I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.

I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.

Two little lines that change everything. It's positive.

My eyes immediately fill with tears, overflowing and hot as they run down my cheeks. My eyes move from the test to trail up to Matt's face. His eyes are wide as they stare at the result in shock, but I watch as a smile overtakes his face, his eyes moving from the test to my face as he beems at me.

"Baby! We're having a baby!" he cheers, dropping the test as he scoops me up in his arms, twirling me around. Despite the fear and anxiety I feel, I find myself smiling and laughing at his excitement. After a moment of us both giggling as he joyfully swung me around, he sets me back on my feet gently, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks and brush my tears away with his thumbs.

"I know this isn't how we expected this to happen, or even when we expected it, but I swear to you that I'm all in. One hundred percent. I'll be with you every step of the way. Every day, every appointment, every late night and early morning, I'm here and I'm always going to be here. I love you so much, sweetheart, and I love our little us just as much already," he tells me softly but devotedly. He means every word with his heart and soul, but I never had any doubts about him to begin with.

"I know, Matty. I love you too." I whisper to him, my voice breaking as tears start falling again.

"I know, I know this is sudden and scary and it's going to be a big life change for us, but we have each other always. I know you will be the best mom to our baby. I am so lucky to have you, and to be doing this with you. You don't have to be scared, I'm right here with you," he says, leaving a soft kiss on the top of my head as he pulls me into his arms, holding me so gently against him.

It's all suddenly so real. I'm having a baby with the love of my life, the best and most kindhearted man I've ever known. I pull Matt even closer to me, cupping his face and pulling his lips against mine for a sweet kiss, soft and full of all the love we have for each other and this new little life we will have.

We slowly pull away from each other, soft smiles painting both of our faces when we suddenly hear a loud thud from the hallway. Matt raises an eyebrow and walks towards our closed bedroom door, and I follow. Matt opens the door to find both of his brothers laying on the floor outside of his door, all tangled up in a heap, Chris on top of Nick who is caught in the middle of cursing Chris out as soon as the door opened.

"God damn it Chris, the one fucking time you really need to be careful you fucking flop on me like a goddamn elephant you stupid— oh, ha ha, hi there matthew," Nick says, voice quieting even more and looking sheepish at being caught eavesdropping. I stiffle a laugh at the two of them laying on the floor, as I look up to see Matt looking at his brothers with an irritated look but some fondness still in his eyes.

Chris, however, has no shame in being the clumsy one to get them caught, and instead quickly rises to his feet and grabs Matt in a bear hug, despite Matt stiffening up and turning to look at me with a loof as if asking for help. I stiffle a laugh and shake my head at the antics of the soon to be uncles.

"You're going to be a dad! Can we start buying cute baby shit now?!" Chris asks us both excitedly, still squeezing Matt in his arms. I smile and nod as I move to join in on the hug, Nick following to join in too. We already have such a good little family here, and I feel overwhelmed with happiness and excitement in adding to it.

note: woo its been 5 months since I posted the original version of this story. I'm so so sorry it's taken so long for the alternate version I promised but life has been a whirlwind. I'm hoping this will be the start of getting back into writing and creating :) love u all always ♥

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#sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

[gojocumdumpster]

What’s it’s like being Hanayama assistant

(I might make this into a story depending how much notes it gets but either way i still might do it and I didn’t make volleyball tryouts so i’m a bit down but i’m just gonna try out for soccer since that’s what i grew up playing anyways)

Afab reader

Warnings: none?

Type of story:🎂

(This my man’s yall)

The application: You had saw this tiktok about a famous company that everyone dreamed of getting into but it was very hard to get in. “Are people really going crazy over this?” You said snickering reading the comments from the tiktok, of course curiosity hit you and you just had to apply. You looked at how much you were going to get paid cause you need that cash💰. Your jaws dropped as you saw “1k+ an hour.” If you got the job this would’ve been you right now here. You submitted the form and waited the next day for the results, you woke up the next day grumbling from the sun hitting your eyes…You blinked a couple of times and then you remembered about the results! You quickly opened your laptop and checked your email and it said, “Congratulations, you’ve passed please come for your first interview at 9:30AM.”

The interview: It was the next day and you were nervous, you were making up scenarios that could happen good and bad ones. You decide to wear a pencil skirt like this: here with a choice of your shirt, you put on your heels, did your hair and makeup and grabbed your purse. You made your to the company, it was tall and huge pause it was black with big bold letters that said “Hanayama Company” (shit idk😭) in bright gold. There was also a underground parking garage on the side of the building so you pulled into the underground parking garage and found a parking spot while you were looking for a spot there was all kinds of luxurious and sports cars. Men with suit and ties and Women with dresses, suits, (whatever there called) and pencil skirts.

“Deep breaths Y/n..” you said repeatedly, there was an elevator or stairs you could take so you decided to take the elevator there was a 20th floor they didn’t tell you what floor so you clicked the 20th button. !Ding! The elevator stopped and opened when it opened you saw glass rooms with multiple dividers each one had computers stacked up with papers. It was a hallway filled with those glass rooms and just regular rooms. On the side we’re coffee machines and donuts and plants 🪴 in the corners. There were name plates for each room, you walked down a bit further until you saw a golden name plate that said “CEO Hanayama” You hugged your purse as you took a deep breath you raised your hand getting ready to knock. “Come in.” Your opened yours eyes wide as you quickly open the door. You closed the door behind you as you saw a a black room with dimmed lights a black shelf and behind him was windows showing the big city 🌆, and then him. He had a suit that showed all his muscles he was sitting a desk looking at his laptop.

He looked up from the screen and closed his laptop. He got up clearing his throat he was a giant, he walked over to you looking at you. Once he was close to you he looked down at your figure since it was tinier than his. You had to look up a bit he pulled his hands out of his pockets ready to shake your hand. You shook hands “Hello! I’m Y/n L/n it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You said smiling. “It’s nice to meet you too Ms. L/n.” he said with his deep voice. “We should start now.” He said looking at the desk. You nodded your head, he placed his hand on your back guiding you to the chair. He slowly removed his hand from your back and sat down. He cleared his throat, and started asking questions. You had made the job! He explained everything to you so you won’t have to worry as much, he walked you out of his office with his hand on you but instead his hand was on your hip gripping the thickness of it. You guys said your goodbyes and you left he watched you leave your hips swaying left to right butt jiggling every time.

#baki x reader #pickle baki #baki the grappler x reader #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki headcanons #baki the grappler #baki dou #kaoru hanayama