#they would definitely start cracking up even harder when he walks in too

[dylanconrique]

tim walking in on his girls in the middle of a very intense giggle fit would cure me.

#*and this is icarly! #the rookie #s5 wishlist #SEND HELP I'M SMILING SO HARD AT THE THOUGHT OF TIM'S KEY RATTLING IN HER DOOR #ONLY TO WALK IN ON LUCY AND TAMARA LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY AT SOME VIDEO OR TWEET THAT REALLY CRACKED THEM UP #or just from them being plain silly with each other 🥰🥰 #they would definitely start cracking up even harder when he walks in too #pointing and laughing at him like 'look at his face!' 😂 #omg and just imagine how soft tim would get witnessing lucy doubled over in pain FROM LAUGHTER LIKE #DOES THAT NOT JUST MAKE YOU WANT TO FIND THE NEAREST CLIFF AND THROW YOURSELF OFF IT?????? #tim bradford #lucy chen #chenford #otp: you know me so well

[fourmoony]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫

f!reader x Personal Trainer!James

summary: reader has a massive crush on PT!James

cw: working out, weight training, pointed out muscle definition

"You've got three more, for sure." James urges you on, looking far too relaxed for your liking where he stands above you, his arms crossed over his chest and his stupidly big muscles bulging against his thermal long sleeve.

Your abdominal muscles feel like they're ripping apart. If you weren't concerned about the ten kilogram kettlebell falling from where it's raised above your head and cracking your skull open, you'd consider throwing it at James' stupidly amused face. You raise your legs, put them back down and James counts, "Two more."

It takes every bit of energy, every morsel of motivation to finish the final set of leg raises, and you allow the kettlebell to tumble out of your grasp and to the left with a loud exhale of pain. You've been attending Personal Training with James long enough to not be embarrassed about the groan that follows, or the way you curl up into a ball. It's nearing the end of your hourly session, and James laughs at your dramatics. "You're not gonna catch your breath with your lungs constricted like that." He chides, and his hands comes into view.

You grumble, hating that you know he's right. Your muscles squeeze uncomfortably as he helps you up, despite you allowing him to take most of your weight. You've seen him workout, before, you know he pulls double your body weight with ease. He smiles wide when you're standing, gives you a little tug until you're stumbling closer to him. He smells like the gym, a little bit of woodsy cologne.

Your cheeks heat and you release his hand with a quiet, "Thanks." It's not like you're blind, James is beautiful. He's ripped and he's tanned, and his hair is stupidly soft. But it doesn't help that he's cheeky and funny, or that he's such a nice guy you always feel guilty for the profanities you spew at him on shoulder and back day. James picks up your abandoned kettlebell with ease and sets it on the bench you've claimed in the small studio gym.

"You good to hit legs for a couple before we finish?" James asks, and you know you don't have much of a choice because he's already turned and is walking towards the barbell weights in the corner.

You hum, reaching for your bottle of water, "Sure."

James lifts two twenty kilogram plates and walks them over to where you're standing. You try not to look at the way his muscles pop with the weights in each hand and James pretends not to notice you growing flustered. He sets them down next to each other and does the same again. By the time he's done, you've caught your breath.

"Elevated Sumo Squats," He gives you a knowing grin. He's fully aware how much you hate these, and he's unapologetic about it. "You know the drill, foot on each set of plates, squat until the kettlebell touches the floor."

You nod, "'Kay."

James holds out a hand as you step onto the weight plates, careful they don't slip out from under you and then hands you the kettlebell. "Try for ten. If you get to ten, we'll go for twelve."

You huff, a smile playing at your lips, "Just say try for twelve, James."

"Okay," James grins, "Go for twelve."

With a petulant eye roll, you start. The first set is never the problem, and James knows this. He watches you closely, an eye on your form at all times. You try not to think about the fact half of his job is staring at your ass, and you definitely try not to wonder if he likes what he sees. Sleeping with your Personal Trainer would be wildly inappropriate. You know James takes his job seriously, but it's hard not to imagine such things when he's standing over you muttering affirmations and praise. It's even harder when he reaches forwards, his fingertips grazing the top of your ass cheek, his voice low as he murmurs, "Keep your head up, back straight. You'll feel it more here."

You nod, mouth dry. "Like this?"

James nods at your corrected form. "That's ten, try two more."

The weight thuds against the ground when you're done and James helps you off of the plates. "How'd that feel?" He asks, fingers gentle as they grasp your wrist, turning it until he can read your heart rate from your smart watch.

"Like I'm gonna be waddling, tomorrow."

James huffs a laugh through his nose, "Well your heart rate is in zone four."

"Gross, so unfit." You snatch your wrist back.

He shakes his head, hands you your water, "Means you're working hard, pushing yourself. And pushing yourself gets results."

You answer with a shrug, swallow the water. James takes it back, nods his head to the plates. "Go again, this time, hold a half squat on the way back up for a couple seconds."

"That's hateful. You're being hateful."

"You got it." James encourages.

James' eyes your form carefully, nods subtly to show he's happy with it. "Working tonight?" He asks.

He has an incredible talent for making conversation at the worst times but you indulge him nonetheless, always willing to talk to him outside of what muscles you're working, and how to correct your form. "Nah. A rare day off."

"Lucky."

You smile, "Yeah, I feel so lucky right now."

James laughs. He laughs like a summer breeze. His eyes light up and his lips twitch. For a guy who looks like he could drop absolutely anyone who came near him, he's incredibly soft-hearted. It always stuns you, how kind and bright he actually is.

"You have clients til' late?" You ask, even though it feels like your lungs might explode.

"Thats eight," James tells you, "No. Just one after you."

You nod, "Early finish. Work harder, Jamie."

James unfolds his arms to point at you, tsking before he orders, "I was gonna have you stop at ten. Go for twelve, now."

It goes on like that through your final set, steady conversation that barely leaves the area of general small talk. You help James put the weights away, even when he tells you not to bother, even though you can only lift one where he lifts two. He checks your watch again, is happy with how hard you've pushed yourself.

"Are we taking progress pictures, this week?" You ask, scooping up your water bottle and car keys.

James shakes his head, "Next week, but I wanna show you something."

He guides you to the mirror against the weight wall where he stands behind you. It's hard to ignore the way he towers over you, almost swallowing you whole, and the inappropriate thoughts that spring to mind, the things you could do in the mirror, the things you'd love to see him do. You swallow. James lifts his hand, his fingertips grazing your shoulder, "You see how your shoulder is more rounded, now, instead of flat?"

You nod, scared to speak.

"That's muscle. It's the same here," His fingertips blaze a burning trail down your arm, "Your biceps, your abs," They skim over your waist, dip around your back, "Your glutes, your thighs, calves," He removes his hand, fingers flexing at his sides as though he's physically straining not to touch you. "All the muscle is growing. You're getting along so well you don't need progress pictures to notice it anymore."

Your face feels like it's on fire, your body leaning back into him until you feel the heat of his body, your shoulder brushing his arm. "So you're worth the money, then?" You ask, voice hoarse.

James smirks, his eyes lighten a little, "Oh, for sure."

Your eyes meet in the mirror, his head tilts a little downwards into a nod. "Same time next week?" He asks.

"That works." It comes out in a breath, your eyes unable to leave his.

You're not sure what normal behaviour is from a PT, but this doesn't seem like it. The thought of him acting like this with other clients makes your tummy twist uncomfortably, and you come to the startling realisation that you may be well and truly fucked. There's a reason you look forward to going to the gym, even though it takes all of your energy, there's a reason you save your nicest gym sets for the days you attend training. There's a reason you find yourself purposefully having the wrong form, if just to feel James' touch. It's wildly inappropriate, you know that. But you can't stop it or change it.

James nods, "Okay, well. You did great today. You should be chuffed."

He's so genuine, so nice, so fucking handsome. His brows hook in the middle at your hesitation, the way you force a smile onto your lips as you step away, turn to face him. "Thanks, James."

"Give me a message if you need anything, but if not, I'll see you next week." His eyes flick to the metal door, which creaks open and his next client comes through.

You hate the way you feel relief at the man who waves at James, the fact it's not some beautiful, toned woman. It makes you feel childish.

"Cool. Bye, James."

He waves, letting you start to walk away before he approaches his next client. The door swings shut behind you after a small smile to the man waiting, the cool air dousing you with a cold, startling reality. Your relationship with James doesn't extend past the gym, past a professional setting where you're paying James to train you. He'll never see past that.

And if James is inside the gym getting shit from his best friend about flirting with his cute client, about being so stupidly infatuated that he's come into work on his day off just because it suited you best, well, that's no ones business but his.

#james potter #james potter fic #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x f!reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders imagine #sirius black #remus lupin #fourmoony #angst #love #fluff #smut

[yanderambling]

thank you both so much!! i decided to mix these up a bit so have Adrian being jealous over reader bullying someone else (and then doing something about it...)! i hope you like~ also: i changed the gif for... reasons, sorry lol i swear this won't be a thing okay bye enjoy <3

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 2.2k

you can read the original post here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, breaking/entering, violence, mild gore, suggestive shit too ygi

Adrian watches in stunned horror as you crowd another student against the wall of the school hallway.

You lean your face close to theirs, some sweet poison dripping from your tongue, and they laugh nervously. They keep pressing back against the wall, as if they want to get away from you.

What an idiot. Doesn’t this moron see that they're being blessed in this moment? Don't they know that others would kill to be in their position?

Adrian feels the wooden bento box lid crack under his fingers.

He'd struggled not to assume the worst when you hadn't been at your spot to pick it up today, but now he just feels like a fool for harboring hope.

How could this happen? How could you do this to him? How could this person be more important than his homemade lunch? Than him? Have you gotten bored of him already? What does this dimwit have to offer you that he doesn't?

He's standing in front of you before he realizes he'd moved.

It's even harder to watch up close- your sparkling, predatory eyes tracking every uncomfortable shift of your victim, your body closing them in, making them feel trapped.

Oh, how Adrian aches to be your prey again.

Luckily, it only takes few seconds of awkward hovering before you register his presence.

"Oh- ha, shit. Hey," You tap the other student's shoulder, despite their full attention already being on you, "you've met my mutt, right? Just a sec."

You turn to face him, one hand still on the wall just above the other student's shoulder. Adrian blessedly can't focus on it over the euphoric mantra of my mutt my mutt my mutt echoing in his head.

Your fingers brushing over his as you snatch the lunch away is just enough to break him out of it.

"Great, fuck off now." You turn back to the other student as you jam the box into your bag.

No.

No no no no no.

That can't be it. He can't just leave you here to be swept away by some bland bambi wannabe, resigning him to forever trailing behind, vying for the scraps of your cruelty. No, he can't have that. He can't live off of that.

Stricken by a new sense of panic, Adrian can do little more than remain uncertainly by your side, leveling an unnerving glare at the other student as he imagines every single way he'd like to take them out of the equation.

"I like this jacket." You remark with an infuriatingly flirtatious edge.

"Th-thanks." The student stutters, flinching when you pick an imaginary piece of lint off their arm. Adrian clenches his hands into fists. "Uh, it was a birthday gift, from- from my parents."

A knowing smirk curls your lips as you nod in faux interest (Adrian can tell). "Yeah? Looks expensive. I wonder what else your folks got you?"

The other student starts to look even more uncomfortable, shifting on their feet as their eyes dart around in search of an escape route.

Oh. So that's your plan, skim off their birthday haul? Of course.

Now that he thinks about it, Adrian recalls that this student is somewhat notorious for having wealthy parents- but, hell, Adrian's parents are definitely richer than theirs! Why didn't you just come to him? (Because you have no idea; he certainly doesn't dress like it, he walks to school, and it's not like you pay him too much mind outside of the lunches and entertainment he provides anyway.)

"I can give you money."

You slowly turn your head to face him, a dangerous edge to the movement that sends a thrill down Adrian's spine.

"Did you not hear me before? I said fuck off."

Adrian's gut clenches unpleasantly, torn between his instinct to obey you and his desire to stay the object of your attention.

The latter wins out pretty quickly.

"...no."

Your entire demeanor shifts.

A manic, incredulous sort of smile spreads across your face as the challenge fully registers. Adrian notices your unoccupied hand flexing beside you as you turn to face him fully. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look so wild, so feral. The force of your stare is enough to have him cowering, ears flattening as his tail tucks firmly between his legs (more to hide his tenting crotch than out of fear).

Your voice is menacingly level as you say,

"The fuck did I just hear?"

Adrian is pretty sure his heart has stopped beating.

He's completely frozen, his throat clicking as he struggles for something, anything to say, to get that intense glare off him but also please dear god don't look away-

"Uh- I, ah- I- I didn't- um-"

Brrrriinngg!

Adrian flinches as the bell rings, and he just barely sees the other student ducking under your arm and scurrying off to class.

"Fuck!"

You slam your fist into the concrete wall, causing Adrian to flinch again, though he stays rooted to his spot in front of you.

"See what you did? Stupid fucking mutt..."

You shove past him roughly, and the pain of his shoulder colliding with the wall is beautifully complemented by the residual warmth of your body against his.

He watches in shock as you stalk down the hall and disappear from sight.

He can't believe he did that. He can't believe he's still standing. He wonders what would've happened if the bell hadn't rung, if you two hadn't been on school grounds...

A shiver surges through his body at the thought, and he has to physically shake himself to return his mind to the issue at hand.

Crisis averted.

For now.

Throughout the day, you corner that student exactly five more times. Adrian manages to interfere with every single one.

It's at the end of the school day, after you've told him off rather disappointingly for getting involved again (and you don't even give him a good punch for his trouble), that Adrian decides he needs a more permanent solution.

It isn't hard to follow your new target home, god knows he's had plenty of practice, and their security's not much trouble either. It's remarkably robust for a home system, but Adrian is a lonely nerd with too much time on his hands and practical experience. Dismantling it takes less than an hour.

Once he's inside, it's just a matter of scribbling a threatening note in unidentifiable handwriting (stating, in no uncertain terms, that they shouldn't even think of going near you again if they know what's good for them), hiding in their closet to take polaroids of them asleep, removing a lock of their hair to attach to the note alongside the polaroids, and leaving it all on their desk for them to find in the morning.

He's got it down to a science at this point.

The rest of his night is spent outside your window, watching you sleep and wishing things would go back to normal.

When it's still only your friends at your usual spot the next morning, Adrian feels disappointment weigh him down for the rest of his walk.

But, when he gets to school, he sees you openly scanning the hallways. Alone, no new victim in sight.

It seems they're trying to listen, at least. Emboldened by the lack of competition, Adrian hurriedly brings you your lunch.

You still dismiss him almost immediately.

He's tempted to defy you again, if only for you to give him a second glance, but he really doesn't think he could handle the rush again this soon.

Instead, he watches from a distance as you continuously try to track your new target down, and they consistently evade you.

He has to commend their effort- going to classes without textbooks, hiding in every nook and cranny when you passed, they even ate their lunch in the bathroom- it's looking like they might just be able to comply.

Until school lets out, and you catch them sneaking around the back.

"Hey! You have not been easy to find. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me."

Adrian stays hunkered in the shadows as the other student stiffens and slowly turns to face you.

"Leave me alone."

The demand is so quiet, it's mostly lost to the ambient hum of the town around you.

You pull a familiar smirk and sidle closer to them, confidence emanating from your every movement. "What was that?"

They suddenly stumble backwards, just barely saving themself from overbalancing as they shout,

"Leave me alone!"

Your eyes widen at the outburst, and Adrian notices you checking for new witnesses as you raise your hands defensively.

"Woah, woah, what's the-"

"Just- just leave me alone! I know who you are, okay? I-I know what kind of person you are, the- the things you do, and I don't- I don't want anything to do with you! Okay? Or- or your creepy fucking friend, either!"

"My wha-?"

"I don't- None of it! Listen- my-my mom's a lawyer, you know? She could have you arrested for-for harassment, or worse! So just- just leave me alone!"

They turn and flee before you can get another word out.

You're left standing stunned, your hands clenching into fists as you fully process this rejection, this humiliation, this complete and utter undermining of your power.

You can't just go after them, you're not willing to test that whole "lawyer mom" claim, but every second you spend idle stokes the fury smoldering within you.

You need to purge it. You need to take it out on something.

Adrian steps around the corner.

"You."

That one word is enough to make him melt into a puddle.

He's helpless to do anything but stare wide-eyed as you storm over to him. He doesn't even brace himself for the punch, falling to the ground with a sharp groan.

"What the fuck did you do? Huh? What'd you do you little fucking creep?"

You punctuate each question with a kick to his prone form, forcing him to release a litany of moans containing equal parts pain and ecstasy.

This, this is how it's supposed to be; your undivided attention on him, your complete focus on touching him, on making him feel. He's the only one you should want to treat like this, to devote your time, your energy, your passion to.

"Can't keep your fucking nose out of my business, can you?" Another kick. Adrian keens. "Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now, you stupid mutt?"

Yes yes yes.

Another kick, this one landing somewhere on his head. As he feels blood trickle into his eye, Adrian briefly wonders if he's died and gone to heaven.

A solid foot to his stomach tells him he's very much still alive, but with it comes a heady lightness spreading throughout his whole body. Another and he feels like he's floating on the high of your touch, your anger, like he could sink into it and be wrapped up in the warmth of your rage. Another and his vision starts to white out. He's known no greater pleasure in life than surrendering to your furious whims, nothing else has ever felt so right. He wants nothing more than to stay like this forever.

Then the kicking stops.

Adrian instinctively whines at the loss, a high whimper lingering in the back of his throat as his head shoots up to search for you.

You're already stomping away, still muttering quiet curses (though Adrian can't hear them over the blood rushing in his ears) and too far off to catch his pitiful mewling. He doesn't take his eyes off you until you round a corner, and even then his gaze helplessly lingers on the space you had occupied.

He stays laying there long after you leave, blissfully basking in the afterglow of your abuse (he doesn't think his shaking legs would support him for awhile anyway). It isn't until he hears a car start nearby that he forces himself, ever so slowly, to make his way home.

He sneaks in with little trouble, rushing to the bathroom to hide away and admire your handiwork.

Deep, angry bruises are already forming all over his skin, some home to lightly bleeding cuts. Adrian presses on each one as he finds them, committing them to memory as he bites his cheek to keep quiet (it's a losing battle).

Loathe as he is to disfigure your art, he knows you won't have the chance to create more if someone finds out (nobody else could possibly understand the bond you share, so intimate and complex as it is), so he begrudgingly cleans the wounds and patches himself up.

It's a familiar process, almost habit by now, and after the bandages and makeup and careful positioning of clothing, nobody would suspect he'd so much as tripped.

But he knows.

He reminds himself every other second while he's camped outside your house that night, methodically fidgeting with every injury as he works his way across his body. He unconsciously applies extra force against the bruises littering his thighs, unable to tear his gaze from your sleeping face.

He wants to do more (god does he want to), but he can't. He could never.

Not without you.

He'll simply have to settle for torturing himself in the meantime, refreshing your marks so they stay effective, just until you get another chance to do it yourself.

When he sees you at your spot the next day (now carrying a lot of extra cash on the off-chance you decide to empty his pockets), he doesn't even try to stop his tail from wagging.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #male yandere #bully reader #gn reader #jealous yandere #jealousy #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

[trash-king18]

miggy hc’s

sorry for the delay on pt. 9 my loves. i just moved and things are a little hectic but here’s some head cannons i had written for mig (sfw and nsfw) pt. 9 should be up tmr or wednesday<3

————

i feel like he’d absolutely convince you to get your nails done and pay for it too just so you could play with his hair and rub his back with them because he’s literally a sucker for it. like he’d be embarrassed about it at first and deny it but he’d be purring at your touch.. like literally though bc he’s half spider 

hear me out: on the lowest of keys miguel is kinda autism coded. LISTEN listen listen… the agitation, the sensory issues from heightened senses, the rigidity, the strong sense of justice, the need for seeking patterns to make sense of things that have happened, a fucking genius, (has a literal fucking rage meltdown in the movie) and would absolutely end up with an adhd golden retriever energy gf (partner if ur queer bc duh) 

would definitely think bigotry in general is “unintelligent and barbaric” homophobia especially and would defend any and all spider kids from bigots (let’s face it they’re all at least bi) even though he’s a grump he’d protect them. 

his love language is acts of service and physical touch

he likes to stay busy, even though you coax him into relaxing more, physically maybe not so much since hes always fighting bad guys…(or fucking you) but mentally. he’s reading, or watching documentaries, playing chess (he definitely programmed an ai himself that would be near impossible to beat just for the challenge and like analyzed the worlds best players. and just because i think it’s cute, you definitely introduced him to like a childish animated puzzle game on your phone that he insisted was stupid but then you wake up to find he stole your phone to play it at night. definitely gets frustrated with it and you make fun of him “it’s harder than it looks ok” 

when miguel started acting softer towards you lyla would tease him about it every chance and try to embarrass him in front of you 

if you are latina and(or) have curly hair like me i can see him getting all pouty when you straighten it. he’d tell you, you look gorgeous of course “you always do” but i feel as a latino he would just think your natural hair is absolutely gorgeous (curly or coily) 

when he comes out with you, if he does, he just holds stuff and watches over you. he will never initiate pda but he certainly doesn’t mind if you cling to him in front of all the people watching. unless you’re at work “reputations” and all that 

he’s not a dancer(but he’s extremely good at it)… unless maybe you’re walking down a shadowed street where there aren’t many people and there’s latin music he might be tempted to pull you into him to dance a little salsa or just feel your hips move when no one’s looking 

dates are more quiet, private, and thoughtful settings. 

is 100 percent not a morning person. blackout curtains and no alarms and while he will stay up all night working or wake up at the ass crack of dawn for missions he will bitch and moan about everything when you try to wake him up when he doesn’t have work and he is a pouting sulking grump when you do 

food. this man is always fucking hungry. but he cooks his own food or doesn’t eat at all and is as much a control freak in the kitchen as he is at work. and it takes you forever to convince him to let you cook, even though you’re perfectly good at it and better at certain things. definitely loves making you taste things as he cooks even when he’s made it before 

every time you pass a “mexican” place unless it’s actually authentic he’ll mutter under his voice cursing them saying they’re ruining his culture (they are). just imagine him driving/swinging past a california tortilla and rolling his eyes and scoffing 

miguel’s nightmares wake him up in a cold sweat more often then he’d care to admit. and as a light sleeper you are almost always already up stroking his face and hair and on the rare occasion you aren’t he’ll just pull you on top of him to feel and watch you instinctively cuddle into him. 

when you’re home you are glued to his side. he’s the: keep you on the kitchen counter while he cooks, shower together, literally tangle your bodies together in bed or on the couch, type of man. but his time away on missions which is frequent, gave you some breathing room. because as much as he’d presumably be the distant one he’s got domestic instincts like no other. he gets enough action at work that he’s definitely a homebody once you coax him into overworking himself less.

————

nsfw

2 word’s: cock. warming. any chance he gets to get himself inside you he takes, or he makes them. he is obsessed with the idea of making a permanent imprint of himself in your pussy and he 100 percent loves belly bulge. cuddling or working from home? you’re on his lap preferably in one of his shirts with his dick stuffed inside you. sleeping? probably ended up pulling your leg over his and (consensually!) slipping himself into your hole. one the rare occasion you sleep later than he does he’ll wake you up by lazily rutting into you. 

2 more words: panty ruin-er. and that’s all 

i don’t know exactly how to explain this one.. but he’s got a pretty dick. you can tell his hygiene is very good and he’s particular about everything and that goes for down there too.. but it’s just pretty. (idk if y’all know what i mean but sometimes you just see one and it just- idek the girls that get it, get it) 

he’s got an oral fixation and don’t tell me he doesn’t. mans a munch but he’s also perfectly satisfied to kiss, nip, lick, and suck at any other part of you. 

imo, he’s really not subby or even on the bottom he likes to be the one in control even the times where all he’s really doing is giving you everything you ask for. but dont assume that means he doesn’t absolutely love watching you ride him or give him head/hj. and when hes cranky he will sheepishly ask you for it almost like he’s embarrassed about being needy (he 100 percent is and you make fun of him for it all the time… after you fuck his soul out of course) 

he HATES being teased. give it but can’t take it. but the reason he doesn’t is because he will whimper a little and he would never hear the end of it. 

more than once he’s stopped you sucking his dick to pull you up purely to cum in you instead of your mouth (sorry bro man has a breeding kink i don’t know what to tell you) “wouldn’t want to waste that would we” 

the only thing that really truly makes him blush is when you grab/slap/poke his ass and you do it just for that reason and he will chase you around the house yelling at you(mostly playfully) after 

if you grind on him he’s usually pretty quick to try and just fuck you instead. because when you do you’ll start kissing his jaw and his neck just rubbing yourself on his bulge or his thigh and suddenly the thought and sight of you getting off just from that is enough to push back any thoughts of embarrassment at the sounds that leave his throat and he doesn’t like loosing control but he can’t help it with you 

i feel like if he found you touching yourself he would immediately worry it was because he wasn’t taking care of you well enough and ask what you wanted but you’d just laugh and tell him it was simply because you got wound up and impatient thinking about him. 

he can never finger you if he’s already wound up because.. claws 

as gentle and caring as he can be he still loves to overstimulate you. the aftercare is amazing but he will fuck as many orgasms out of you as he wants. sometimes he just can’t think straight until he gets to. 

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @marcswife21 @l3laze @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl @simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman @dammittjanet

#across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 #atsv #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara thirst #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara is hot #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara headcanon #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 fanart #spider man 2099: dark genesis #spider man 2099 x reader

[cherrycrushes]

Prt 2 or alt ending of ‘two sweet’ where reader slowly melts schlatt’s 🚩🚩🚩 off by just her sweetness and sunny shiny personality/smile alone?

(can I be🍴🍰 anon btw?)

two sweet pt. 2 - oneshot

jschlatt x reader.

part one; part three

a/n: YES TO ALL AHAHA IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSER OO OO AA AA

you and jschlatt exited the bed, trying to get a good start for the day. giggles escaping your mouth as his hair stuck up in an awkward position. he was wearing an oversized hoodie paired with his boxers and long socks.

"the last one downstairs is a rotten egg!" you yelled, already desecding the stairs.

"whatever!" the old man grumbled. even though he had a rude tone, you could tell he was joking as you detected a smile in his voice.

you were already in the kitchen, grabbing a pan that you were going to use to cook breakfast with. as you laid down the frozen pieces of bacon and eggs, you felt a hand grab your butt.

"ah!" you yelped. schlatt smiled, throwing you off guard a bit. "dude you suck."

"oh you wish you could suck harder," he replied with his ever so beautiful smile. as you turned around, you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

you both stared at each other, making eye contact and not wanting to look at anything else. he lightly pecks you on the lips before walking away to turn on the television. instead of putting the nearest news channel, schlatt turned on a youtube music video.

the sounds of frankie valli's 'can't take my eyes off you' filled your ears. you hummed as you cracked eggs on the pan. schlatt came back to the kitchen, getting plates and utensils for the table. he was also humming, but it was definitely louder than yours.

as he set the table, schlatt couldn't help but think how much of an amazing housewife you would be. thoughts of him impregnating you just so he could see mini versions of the both of running around filled his mind. but he couldn't. you were too sweet.

"breakfast is ready!" you said, setting the bigger plate with food on it down.

"thank you, cupcake," jschlatt says as he presses a quick kiss on your cheek. to which you giggle in reply.

the music fades to 'the girl from ipanema,' by stan getz. you smile while savoring your food, as you see schlatt scarfing it down with a straight face.

"y'know toots, this song reminds me you," he states as he finishes his bite.

"how?" you hummed.

"well, just listen. tall, tan, young and lovely. the girl from ipanema goes walking, and when she passes, he smiles, but she doesn't see," schlatt mumbled with the music.

he looked up from his plate to see your awestruck smile. jschlatt could feel his heart burst and melt into pieces as he looked into your eyes. as he savored your expression, he truly believed you were too sweet for him.

#☎️ cherry’s line! #🍰🍴 anon! #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich x reader #x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #schlatt #jschlatt #im losing it #im sorry anon

[emilio-the-dumb-wrestler]

“You’re hired!” Blake took a photo of himself in his new workout gear. It has been a long time coming from his time of unemployment and now he finally had a job. Admittedly it wasn’t the best but it was still something that he could do to bring in money. He had tried for a while to get a job in the career that we majored in college in but she the pandemic happened it seemed like all the jobs in his friend has disappeared. Becoming obsolete. Leaving him with no other option that to get a job doing something he aspired to avoid. A blue collar worker. Going back to his apartment he was dreading the new work day that would follow them in the morning.

His alarm blared first thing alerting him that it was time to get out of bed while his work day would start at 7am. He struggled to get out of bed but when he did he was ready for his new job in no time. And just managed to clock into work on time. Going through training was. A grueling process. Learning the right way to be a pipe picker was proving to be harder than he expected.

“You’re pretty slow. You need to pick up the pace” his trainer told him and he could hear the snickering from over his shoulder while the other men on the site laughed at him. When he looked their way they would turn their gaze and pretend like they weren’t listening to him being scolded for his slow movements. “If you don’t pick up the pace you’re going to lose this job faster than you even got it. Understood?” Blake shook his head. He couldn’t help but listen to his failure as it was handed to him. When the work day came to an end he clocked out and made his way home. Kicking rocks as he walked the streets home. Each rock he kicked he wished that he could just fit in at the job. To be the best worker so he didn’t end up homeless. He wanted to be the most experienced man there so the men laughing at him would have their asses handed to to them. He smirked thinking about his made up victory as he continued to kick rocks wishing that his hopes and dreams would come true. Even if this wasn’t what he expected after going to college.

The alarm started blaring the next morning. Again, rushing to get ready so he wouldn’t be late, Blake made it to work just in time before the clock flipped over signaling his failure to be on time. He today he picked up the pave as fast as he could though. before he knew it he was completely the tasks faster and faster. He didn’t even realize that his arms had started to bulk up slightly with muscle as his abs began to form a perfect chiseled six pack. While his chest began to jut out slightly as his pecs beefed up. His legs began muscular while his feet became longer making his toes curl and scrunch in his shoes as they got to small for his expanding feet.

“Time to leave Blake!” Heard the trainer yell and the work day was done. Kicking the rocks on the way home Blake still wasn’t even aware of the changes. Mostly as his iq had began to drop slightly to fit into his new role in life. He did notice his shoes weren’t fitting right though and he needed to do something about that with his next pay check. When he got home, he cracked open a beer and sat on the couch after taking off his hi vis work best.

Turning the beer back and drinking it all in one day was ideal for him. The thing he had been waiting for all day. He did t even notice that his apartment t began to get smaller as it got dirtier. Grungier as it began to smell of sweat and filth. His work boots remained on his feet as he seemingly forgot they were too small for him. After a few beers Blake passed out on the couch.

As Blake slept his body continued to change. His youth as a muscular blue collar worker was short lived as his body began to age. Soon a thick coating of hair covered him from head to. All a mixture of white, grey and black hair. His abs lost all definition as his gut inflated giving him a hard gut that would only come from years of drinking beer. The hair on his head fell out leaving him completely bald while he continued to age to 58 years old. His knees would hurt when he woke up from carrying the weight of his cut and all the lifting he did his body daily as a blue collar pipe picker. His back would ache from the same issues as well. His hands thicker as they became calloused and hairy to fit his new body. While his feet finished growing at 16w. Tattoos began to form across his body in thick faded designs that would only come from years of working outside and not taking care of your skin. But even rose would be hard to see under all the hair that covered his body. His iq settled at 80. A long drop from the 125 he once had before. Leaving him just smart enough to complete his job now.

The alarm clock buzzed and Blake woke up yelping slightly as his knees and back hurt like hell. He grumbled to himself in his joe deeper huskier voice but made himself get up. He had a new employee to train today. He had to show this man the good part about being a pipe picker after all.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Hidden Feelings

Fandom: The Rookie

Series: One Shot

Pairing/s: Tim Bradford x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 700

Request: Can you write a spicy Tim Bradford (The rookie) story? He and y/n knew each other for a while now and Tim knows that she kinda likes him. He also liked her back and flirts with her. So they come each other closer and closer, until he tries something new and kinda spicy.

You couldn't remember when it started exactly, you might have critiqued Tim's flirting while undercover, but there had been an unspoken competition between the two of you for some time now, both trying to out flirt each other. Despite how professional Tim presented, this largely took place on shift too.

It started with winks, one liners and bad pick up lines. You'd bend over his desk in a certain way and he would make a comment while walking past that made you trip up slightly; you'd milked the jokes about Tim as a stripper after one particularly memorable call you'd been blessed to be in attendance for, things like that.

Recently... it had been getting harder and harder to out do each other, and you'd definitely reached a point where neither of you couldn't go back and pretend nothing was going on.

You'd gone through all the tame stuff, but after you'd put a pair of particularly thin lace panties in his locker, and he'd retaliated with a pair of very much not standard issue regulation handcuffs in your draw for everyone, including Sergeant Grey, to see, you'd been ordered to stop.

Grey had finally had enough, and these last attempts to one up each other had neither been appropriate or professional in a workplace setting. You hadn't been reprimanded, Grey had actually laughing while pulling you both into his office, but the message was clear.

Even after this, you still never directly addressed it with each other.

Lucy thought it was hilarious, and you knew she fuelled the fire with suggestions for both of you, John had hinted that she actually had a binder with ideas.

You were working late with Tim one night, alone together for the first time in the week Grey had spoken to both of you. There was last minute paperwork to get submitted after a long day helping Lopez with a drug bust.

You'd both been undercover, so both of you were in your own clothes, and had both not so subtly been glancing at each other for the last hour, suspecting the other would try something. It had been a quiet week, too quiet.

"You finish the incident report yet?" Tim asked, making you jump. You'd been so lost in thought you hadn't seen him approach your desk.

"Right here," you told him, avoiding eye contact as you remembered Grey's stern words. You knew you both had to talk about this competition, but neither wanted to say something first.

He hesitated for a moment once he had the report in his hands, and you thought he'd finally say something, relieved you hadn't cracked first, when he reached into his pocket, dropped the panties on your desk, and walked away.

You froze for a moment, staring at them. You could feel Tim's eyes on you, watching to see how you'd react.

There was a thought in your head, but you knew it might be crossing a line. Still, there was no one else around, and he'd started it.

With a mischievous grin back at Tim you swiped the item off your desk, wandering back over to him and dropping them on his paperwork.

"Nice," you told him, "but I like the ones I have on better." As you turned to walk away you flashed him a bit of skin between your t-shirt and your pants, revealing the thong you were wearing underneath.

Tim's eyes went wide at the sight, mouth slightly open and very much unsure how to react as he processed what you'd done.

With a wink you went to walk away, thinking you'd won this round.

"Not so fast," he said, grabbing your arm, "no more games."

Before you could process what was going on, he'd spun you back around and pulled you into a kiss. It took you a moment to register his lips on yours, but you kissed him back, hands moving to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in deeper as he pushed you back towards the desk. Your hands went around his neck as his found your waist, fingers skimming the thong you'd just shown him.

He'd definitely won this round, but you weren't complaining.

#tim bradford #the rookie #time bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #tim bradford imagines #the rookie imagines #tim bradford one shot #the rookie one shot #one shot

[artiststarme]

What if Steve died instead of Chrissy?

Here's just a short thing that came to mind. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

After the events of Starcourt, the whole Party fractured. They all dealt with the trauma of the Mindflayer and the Russians differently. With Hopper gone, El had no choice but to leave Hawkins with the Byers. Joyce had no interest in staying in the place that had taken so much from her and her boys. As soon as they were finished packing their things, she bustled them all to Lenora Hills in California, the furthest place from Hawkins she could think of. Without Jonathan there to ground her, Nancy threw herself into journalism and school work. After all, she needed to have control over something in her life.

Max pulled away from everyone, she didn’t have time for the childish games she once enjoyed. Not when she was taking care of her alcoholic mother and moving into a new trailer after Billy died and Neil left. And she had no interest in grieving her brother that no one liked, with the company of anyone in the Party. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike placed all of their attention into joining the DnD club at school. They didn’t want to experience any reminders of the Upside Down or the events of the summer so they focused on fantasy instead. Robin was coddled by her parents and grounded for weeks after Starcourt burnt down. They wouldn’t let her leave their sight for weeks out of fear of losing here. 

All of that meant Steve was alone. 

For months, Steve stayed in his room grieving the loss of the guy that had become his father figure. He mourned the loss of his fun times at Scoops Ahoy and the innocence he had before being tortured by Russians. He could never be the guy that he was before being tortured mercilessly and stumbling the line so close to death. Some of the Party reached out to him but trying to talk to him grew too challenging eventually and they gave up. Robin and Dustin, despite being his best friends, couldn’t deal with his problems on top of their own. 

Steve’s nights were filled with nightmares and his days were full of sadness. He was in a pitiful cycle that he couldn’t break. Usually, he would go to Hopper when things got really bad. Hop would manhandle him back to the cabin for movies, games, and Eggos with El, and he would keep him there until Steve could pull himself back. But, he didn’t have that option anymore. 

What did Steve have? He didn’t have parents that cared, friends that noticed his months-long absence, or a father figure that wasn’t dead. All he had was himself, his depression, and a cold, empty house.  

It was only a matter of time before he started looking for new ways to cope. He drank all of his father’s alcohol, he drove to bars in Indy to pick up partners, he even sat on the edge of the quarry in an effort to feel something, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, he saw Eddie Munson walking home from school one day and something sparked in his mind. 

Eddie dealt drugs! Drugs would definitely get him out of his head, right?

Steve was desperate at that point. His nightmares kept getting more vivid and the terrors seemed to follow him into the daytime. His head ached all of the time and his nose was bleeding from the pressure inside his head. He needed something to deal with it all. 

So he met Eddie at his usual spot behind the school one day and tried to make a deal. Unfortunately, Eddie only carried weed with him but Steve made arrangements to go to his trailer after the championship game to get something harder. He was so excited to finally get rid of the headaches and the grief that plagued him that he didn’t mind going to the trailer to get it.  

But when Eddie tried to sell him the ketamine that night, he had to watch the golden boy Steve Harrington levitate in his trailer. He had to watch as the bones of his high school crush cracked and splintered. He had to see Steve’s eyes get sucked through his skull by an unseen force. 

And later he had to watch the world move on from the inside of a jail cell when he was charged for the murder he never in a million years would have committed.

Eddie shot up from his bed in a daze. He was still on his stained mattress at the trailer, surrounded by his clutter. It was just a dream. He was sure that Steve Harrington was still safe and sound up in his castle and whatever the fuck nightmare his brain had conjured up was just that... a nightmare. Stuff like that didn't happen in real life, he was fine. And Steve probably was too. It was fine.

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#stranger things #angst #fanfic #light steddie-very light #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #eleven hopper #robin buckley #mike wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #joyce byers #chief hopper

[sugawarassoulmate]

omg you’re latest loser!kuroo drabble made me think like imagine reader nd kuroo are eating out (sitting in a booth opposite from each other) nd these girls from kuroos class spot them nd start chatting w him nd reader is getting annoyed so instead of saying anything she’s rubbing her foot against his crotch while looking (trying) unbothered

this was fun to write lol

words: 734

cw: fem!reader, jealousy, name-calling, footjob, semi-public, dubcon, minors dni

you can feel the irritation building the second he locked eyes with them. you and kuroo had gone out to eat at the diner near campus when some of his classmates walked in and spotted him. instead of a simple “hi and bye”, they lingered at your table.

“oh, we don’t mean to interrupt…” but you’re going to anyway, you think to yourself as the girl and her friend ask kuroo some question about their chem class.

and of course, kuroo is so willing to help. “that’s really easy! here’s what you need to do,” he’s so sickeningly sweet, so gullible. he gives you an apologetic look—one that says “please be nice.”

he truly has no idea that these girls don’t actually give a shit about the lesson kuroo’s endlessly rambling about. it’s so obvious from the way the one closest to him twirls her hair around her finger, standing in a way that her chest was pushed out, there’s no way kuroo would notice the way her eyes would cast down at his lips every so often, a flirtatious smile growing on her face.

if she wasn’t bad enough, her stupid friend was sending you a smug look as if this had been her plan all along.

unlike kuroo, you’re not an idiot. you’re aware how other girls look at him—what they want from him—and as much as he says he’s yours, it won’t stop these bouncing idiots from circling around him like vultures.

kuroo must have said something funny since the girls both let out their shrill little laughs, the bolder of the two reaching out to grab his arm. his nervous smile is noticeable and you’re immediately pissed off.

but instead of telling the girls off until they cried like you would usually do, you continue to pick at your food and busy yourself with your phone. let them think they have your tall idiot in their clutches. neither of them would know that you were kicking your shoes off underneath the table. they were too busy laughing at kuroo’s definitely not funny joke about atoms to notice your foot inching its way until it rested in his lap.

the way kuroo’s body tensed up let you know that he had noticed.

oh, you were so inconspicuous while scrolling through twitter. the dumb broads talking their heads off beside you had no clue kuroo was getting hard all from the underside of your foot. he’d cough to get your attention, his way of asking you to stop, but you sweetly pushed his glass of water closer to soothe his throat.

“your friend is so sweet!” one of them said, sending you the most condescending look. petty as ever, you returned the favor, foot pressing harder against kuroo’s crotch just to see him shudder.

you weren’t a nice person. if he kept talking to them you were going to make him cum in his pants and he knows it. kuroo’s face is getting flushed and he’s starting to stutter while speaking. the giggles from the peanut gallery is appropriate. he looks so cute like this. so easy to manipulate, it’s not even fair. but you pop another fry in your mouth and keep going, running your foot alongside the shaft of his clothed cock, applying pressure and releasing every so often just to hear the sigh leave his lips.

“i-i think that answers your question!” he breathes, voice cracking. “i’ve held you up too long you’re probably busy.”

“we’re not that busy! why don’t we join you? it’ll be fun!” she’s so eager, it’s embarrassing.

another press on kuroo’s cock has him gripping the table. “uhh, you know, actually we’re on a date. so, we’d like some privacy.”

their little act drops the second they spot kuroo reaching over the table to grab your hand. all you give them is a cocksure grin while they stare back in disbelief, muttering apologies as they finally leave the two of you alone.

once they’re gone, you take your foot away and hear his sigh of relief.

“this is a date?” you snort, as he catches his breath.

“baby, please, they were just being nice…” you roll your eyes, annoyed that he could actually be so stupid.

“you’re gonna have to make this up to me,” you warn, putting your shoes back on.

and kuroo knows. he always ends up making it up to you.

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #🍑 #🍑kuroo

[the-salem-devil]

two words… possessed hunter. his design is- oh my god <33

CURSED!HUNTER WITTEBANE X READER [NSFW ALPHABET]

these are as cursed as hunter himself 😀👍 this is one of two thirst requests for possessed deer man, expect a fanfiction soon, pet 😉

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Emotionally distant compared to most of the cast, he’d still clean you up (only because he knows you can’t walk yourself) and bring you something you request.

He wouldn’t be big on cuddling, but if you insist on it, he’ll linger until you fall asleep, prying himself away when your breath finally evens out, he might be a bit stiff in your arms though.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite part of his partner would be their neck and collarbone, he’s very possessive of his pet, so having bite marks and hickeys somewhere so visible and easy to access pleases him.

His favourite part of himself is his mouth, his silver tongue, not only to lick at you until you scream, but also the words he can craft to drive you crazy, the names he calls you that he knows you love.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Again, he’s a very possessive man, he’ll always pull away or out of you to mark your skin, wherever it might land as long as it touches your sweet skin.

But, if you ask real prettily like you know he likes, he’ll go inside of you, pleased at the fact you’ll be carrying a small part of him inside of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is the dirty secret, to be honest, but something that gets him going that he hasn’t disclosed with you is when you try to dominate him, now, he isn’t a bottom by any means, but-

When you think you have the power? Think you can keep him pinned to the bed and at your mercy, then he flips you around, turning the tables and stunning you still enough that he can bury himself in you?

Gets him harder than a lot of things.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Well yes, but actually no.

You’d think he has a lot of experience, with how confident and such he acts in bed, but he hasn’t actually done anything with anyone, neither has he touched himself much, that confidence is just him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He adores when you’re on your knees, seeing you kneel for him, looking up with those wanting, half lidded eyes can turn any brooding mood into a more.. receptive one.

Basically he’d be down to clown.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s already so serious, all the time, and it only increases when you two start getting down to business, he’ll tease you but won’t crack any jokes, and wouldn’t be a fan of you doing it either.

Unless you’re putting on a brat act, then he’s happy to teach you some manners.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Extremely well groomed, surprising maybe one person, despite the hair on his head, he takes care of the hair down there impeccably.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Despite the constant teasing, verbal or physical, he is actually quite romantic, in his own way of course.

He doesn’t drop compliments often, often because he doesn’t find anybody interesting or impressive enough to warrant it, but he’ll praise you plenty, which is his way of showing intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely ever touches himself, he’d rather find you and let you do it for him, though he’ll definitely touch himself in-front of you with your hands tied to the bed until you beg to touch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man, this man has so many kinks, I don’t think I could list them all, so I’ll list two.

Degrading and de-humanisation: he wouldn’t take it too far, and wouldn’t do it without your consent, but his favourite nickname for you is ‘pet’, and he’d be happy to make some comments about owning you and whatnot if you’d like that.

Bondage: He loves tying up your pretty little limbs, keeping you bound so he can do whatever he likes to you, or to stop you from doing what you want to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Depends on how he feels, normally he’d prefer the bedroom or living room, because getting walked into when he’s trying to pleasure himself and his lover is a minor annoyance that he’d like to avoid.

But if he’s feeling particularly jealous or possessive, his exhibition kink would bubble to the surface, and then he’s willing to do it pretty much anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He only has two moods, brooding and irritated at everyone, or extremely horny.

There is so many things that could get him going, he could turn the most innocent thing into a invitation, just your very presence gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Isn’t a lot he wouldn’t do, pretty much anything that his pet doesn’t want to do or something that could serious injure them mentally or physically.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both, he adores both, but he can lean towards being a more selfish lover, so he’d slightly prefer receiving, but that doesn’t mean you should knock his giving skills.

and if you do, well you might not be able to walk the next day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, he can do both and it depends on his mood, usually he’d go for rough but slow, pounding into you sharply but slowly, dragging out your screams of pleasure when he slams back into you.

But if he’s feeling jealous, which is very often, he’ll take it so slow until your begging and crying for him, and he won’t speed up until you confirm that you’re his, that nobody could make you feel as good as him, so don’t even look at anyone else-

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he wants too, he’ll drag you into the nearest semi-secluded spot, again, exhibitionist, he doesn’t exactly mind somebody overhearing you cry out his name.

Though, he does prefer being able to take his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Down to try everything at least once, has probably tried everything with you just once, he’ll back off if you don’t like something, but can’t really think of anything he hates with a burning passion.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

High stamina, he could go all night, and you best believe he thinks you can go all night too.

And you will, won’t you darling? That’s right, good little pet.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn’t own any toys before he met you, but since he’s willing to try everything just once he’ll order some, he wouldn’t use them on himself (unless it’s to tease you of course) but you bet your sore little ass he’d use them all on you.

Though he prefers to pleasure you with his own body, to prove that he can make you (s)cream with his fingers or mouth alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he’s the biggest tease, he’ll edge you for hours, he’ll tease you about how pretty you look on your knees, how eager you are for him, how loud your moaning.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Despite the constant teasing, he isn’t loud, low grunts and even lower, darker growls escape his clenched teeth but other than that it’s only silence and perhaps a small pant here and there when he’s close.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have no evidence to back this up, absolutely none, but when he gets close, and his words start slurring slightly, his voice goes dark and warped.

Like not too much that it’s scary, but something is off, like something animalistic is pushing to the front of his brain.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s big, he’s really big. 😉

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

24/7, all day and all night, I already mentioned how horny this man was, and I wasn’t lying, even when he’s in his irritated brooding mood he’s still fucking you in the back of his mind, constantly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t sleep much, if the bags under his eyes tell you anything, so if he doesn’t need to go anywhere after, he’ll stay up and watch you slip, maybe gently twisting a strand of your hair on his finger.

#hunter the golden guard #hunter x gn!reader #the owl house hunter #hunter headcannons #hunter x reader #toh hunter wittebane #hunter wittebane #toh hunter headcannons #toh hunter x reader #toh hunter #hunter toh x reader #hunter toh #possesed hunter #cursed hunter #the owl house fanfiction #the owl house #possessed hunter x reader

[eezeybreezy]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ pt.3 ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

This is the result of Hobie brain rot. Was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters.  Part 1 Part 2 Part 4🔞

(Sorry if this one is shorter than the others, it was a weird scene to break up)

warnings: tension👀 , not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, , punk shit, eventual smut, implied black reader

Stepping into the cool night, you feel the urge to compliment the man you’ve been ogling all night. “I fuck with your wicks heavy btw, it was cool to see another black vigilante / super person.

“Black and proud, that’s the Punk way.”

You hear the ting of pride in his voice, and it makes him sound almost cocky. He smiles and offers you a hand to take. He has a mischievous grin on his face. You try to change the subject before embarrassing yourself further, “I’m up for anything, you wanna walk like normal people or take the rooftop? Is swinging while intoxicated considered a DUI?”

“Let’s take the rooftops.”

The words seem to leap out of his mouth as soon as they leave your lips. He smiles excitedly, obviously eager to have some fun. “I’ve had some practice swinging drunk, you’ll be fine love. Don’t worry.”

He reaches his hands up to the roof and lets out a quick laugh, not seeming fazed by the prospect of drinking and swinging at the same time.

You giggle, “I hope we don’t regret this.” clinging to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he scales the wall.

“I’m certain we won’t love. How could we ever regret spending such a beautiful night together?”

he flirts, giving you a wink and your ass a quick squeeze. “I promise I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

He waits for her to uncling to him before he starts running and they leaping onto the next roof, landing with a small roll and then immediately taking off again, faster than they would’ve been able to walk. You quickly run to catch up to the punk, jumping the gap between buildings. You’re both gaining momentum quickly, and soon enough you’ve matched his speed. As they gain speed, you feel the cold air fly by and it’s as liberating as ever. You fly through the air together, both laughing as you go. Hobie doesn’t slow down too much though, and you’re almost at the apartment building he lives in already. He looks at the building and turns to you, 

“Almost there mate, you ready for the finale?”

You chuckle, showing off the pearly whites he’s so enamored with, “And what would that be exactly?” The wind picks up around you, making it hard to hear and even harder to concentrate in your intoxicated state. This was fun.

You tease him back, matching him in pace and wit.

“You’ll see in a second, darling.”

He grins mischievously at you and turns back to face the apartment building. “Hold on tight love, we’re about to hit the big jump.”

He lets out a cackle right before jumping off of the roof, flying towards the window he lives in. To make the jump, he opts to go faster and faster by spinning in mid air. As he lands in his window, he makes sure to steer clear of the landing, and you pick up the pace as you approach the ledge. To play it safe (none of this is), you opt to drop to all fours, pushing yourself to make this jump. You push off the ledge, cracking the concrete as you push off. 

Hobie notices the cracking ledge, and is very impressed he’ll admit. He watches you the whole time and smiles when you make the jump. Your landing is cleaner than his and you look at him, grinning as you land. He smiles back, but deep down he’s wondering how much power is in those legs of yours, and just what else your thighs can do.

You’re the first to speak as we puts the drinks in the fridge. “It smells like you in here, which isn’t a bad thing btw, though I’d thought you’d be musty being punk and all.”

He chuckles at that, head still in the fridge. “Now that’s definitely one I’ve never heard before. You’ve got jokes.” he grabs them a couple beers. “Want one?”

He leans against the fridge and looks at you, trying to get a sense of what you think about his place. He hasn’t brought anyone back here before, and he’s a little nervous about your reaction. He’s also more than a little curious to see how this goes over.

You look around, getting a vibe of this living room when a vinyl player catches my eye. “I don’t really like beer, care to pour me sum Henney tho?” Your fingers brush against the surprising wide variety of albums he has stored. You lean in and check out the records sitting on the shelf. Some look familiar to you, while others seem new and almost otherworldly. There are a lot of different records, enough to fill the shelves and even a good handful sitting off to the side. 

“Sure thing!” He grabs a glass from one of the cabinets and pulls out the bottle of Henney. “Let me know when to stop adding it” he pours it out into the glass and waits for her to tell him when to stop. “So you like records? I’ve been putting the collection together my whole life.”

He sounds a little bit proud of it. And you’d be happy to indulge him. 

“I was just thinking to myself that despite coming from a different universe, most of these albums are the same ones I have back home. Didn’t picture you for an R&B type tho, that’s good to know.” You gaze at him with the same sultry look as before. “You can stop pouring now.”

He stops pouring and hands the glass off to you as he leans against the wall and smiles. “I’ve got some variety, for sure.”

 “You have a good taste in music, but you know that.” I smile goofily up at him, still so taken by how handsome he was. “So, do actually you get to spend any time here, this is a cute place you got/”

He grins and walks past you, sitting down on the couch. “Thank you. It’s not much, but for me it’s a very nice space where I can just unwind and be myself. I’m here every night actually.”

He pats his lap inconspicuously. “Do you want to sit? It’ll be better than standing and talking.” He grins at you, looking around for any spaces that you’d be comfortable going to, trying his best to be a gentleman. Despite the plenty of space on the couch he decided to sit on, you still opt to sit as close to him as possible, and put your drink on the table.

“I’ll roll for us this time, can I get sum more of that tree tho?” You ask sweetly, draping your legs over his lap, and grabbing the rolling tray he’d abandoned on his coffee table.

He chuckles a little and grins when you sit on his lap. “I was wondering when this was coming. Yeah go ahead, just try not to make a mess." He sits back a little, trying to give you as much room as he can while you sit on him and roll.

The way he’s sitting and tilts his head back has you practically drooling. The way his piercings sit on his face, the gaze that seems to bore into you, the plump lips you want to kiss again and again. You start rolling a little quicker, before he catches you starting you notice him open his eyes from the relaxed position you are on the couch. Eventually you’re wrapping up, and Hobie finds himself looking at you, taking in every single one of your features in the moment. You seem to be taking your time and he lets you work, just staring until he hears the sound of you wrapping up and looks back. 

“You got it rolled up already?”

You almost reply, but you instead make a show out of the finishing touches, licking your lips while peering up at Hobie, licking the paper to seal it up while looking between those big brown eyes and his full dark lips. 

Hobie watches you and enjoys the whole show being put on, smirking when you look up and makes eye contact with him, his eyes twinkling with some unknown emotion. 

“Looks good to me darling. You ready to smoke it?” He asks grinning, and reaches for it.

You pull the joint back from his prying hands. “I believe I deserve some compensation for my services first Punk.”

Hobie snorts when you pull the joint away, and settles on putting a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as you both sit on the couch. He waits for you to pass him the joint, “I guess I can’t argue with that. What do you want?”

#hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #spider punk #spiderverse x reader

[lost-walmartbag]

Kenny x reader pt 7

Warning: Swearing

Background: Keny takes care of you after you get out of the hospital

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

'No expense'

You spent a week in the hospital. Kenny visited every day. He would come into your room the second visiting hours started and wouldn't leave until they ended. You hated being there but having Kenny by your side made things better. He did everything to make you more comfortable.

You complained about the hospital food once? Kenny would bring you 3 meals every day so you wouldn't have to eat hospital food. You said the pillows were too flat or that the blanket wasn't cozy enough? Kenny brought your pillows and blankets from home. You felt the room was too bland? Kenny brought flowers for you to look at. He thought you were getting bored of him? He brought Karen over so that she could do your hair and nails to cheer you up.

Kenny spared no expense. He wanted your stay to be as good as he could make it. He knew you hated being there he knew he hated seeing you in that hospital bed but he knew you needed to stay there. He walked in on your last day seeing you struggling to pull up your pants with your broken arm.

He closed his eyes and walked over. He helped you up and helped you into your pants. You blushed softly but allowed him to help no matter how embarrassing it was. Once he finished he opened his eyes and smiled down at you.

"Thank you.." You mumbled looking down at your arm.

"Anything for you." He said softly and hugged you from behind.

"I feel so helpless." You said looking up at him.

He studied your features. You still had some bruising on your face but he could still recognize how gorgeous you looked. He kissed your forehead softly and smiled.

"I know it sucks but at least I get to be here with you...is that selfish?" He whispered making you smile softly.

"It makes me feel a little better about keeping you here with me." You whispered softly.

"Well then let's get you home." He said taking your hand and making sure to be careful with your broken arm.

Once he brought you back home he made you stay on the couch. He made sure to make you comfortable and that you wouldn't get up. He put on some show to keep you entertained and smothered you in blankets and pillows.

"Ya know I won't die if I make my own food." You said with a sigh as Kenny works in the kitchen.

"Hey, we aren't sure about that." He said as he started cooking.

"Why are you doing this for me? You've been doing everything for me. The meals, the flowers, bringing my blankets and pillows, staying with me for hours, paying Kyle to do my homework." You ramble a bit upset about how you barely noticed how much it truly was.

He walked in and leaned against the door frame. He crossed his arms holding a spatula and wearing an apron. He looked at you like you had asked a stupid question but cracked a small smile. "Because I love you."

The words rolled off his tongue perfectly like he truly meant them. He said it like it was obvious. You looked up at him blushing harder and then looked back down at your lap.

"I..." You started but couldn't find the words to finish your sentence.

"It's ok I know..I fucked up. I don't expect you to forgive me or trust me again but you sure as hell aren't going to make me leave your side." He said walking over and gently stroking your cheek.

"W..Why don't you find someone else? Someone who could be with you." You asked keeping your eyes down.

"I know we'll find our way back to each other. Even if I'm all old and gross if that's when I get to be with you again the wait will definitely be worth it." He said kissing your forehead and walking back to the kitchen to cook without waiting for a response.

You sat there looking down at your broken arm. Your cast had only one signature on it as of now. Kenny was there when you first got it and signed his name on it with a small heart. You found yourself smiling softly and tearing up. He cared about you and didn't care how much time it would take for you to forgive him.

He didn't expect your forgiveness no matter how much he wanted it. What mattered to him was you getting better. While you were in the hospital he spent hours going around town trying to find your favorite flowers, spent hours cooking meals for you, broke into your house to get your blankets and pillows for you, and spent hours sitting with you doing everything he can to make you happy in the bleak situation.

He spared no expense. Not just money. Not just time. Nothing he did would ever seem too much if it came to you. You whispered to yourself as the realization of Kenny's words hit you.

"I love you too.."

A/N: Hey guys sorry if this chapter is short I am doing this at 12 am I'm so sorry I was just really busy today and the heat is getting to me😭 But thank you for reading I love you all 🩷

#south park x reader #south park #fanfic #south park x you #x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mcormick x reader

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Shenanigans related to my post “the turaga / Toa Metru share a house”:

Whenua, at home because he injured his leg and should rest, is bored. He tries to “escape” because he wants to get back to work. His colleagues found a fascinating fossil that he wants to take a closer look at. Having miscrocopes again is the dream.

So he sneaks out of his room, trying not to put any weight on his injured leg. And is foiled when a familar name shouts his name.

Onewa stomps over to him, demanding that he goes back to his bed. Whenua snips back that he’s not the boss of him and can’t order him around. Onewa can pick him up, however. Which he does, making Whenua cuss in surprise. He carries him into their shared living space and puts him on a blanket and pillow pile. Since it’s on the ground, Whenua can’t stand up with his messed up leg.

Whenua brings up that his problem persists. He’s bored, he can’t sleep, he can’t enjoy reading at the moment, everybody else is busy, so what he’s supposed to do?

Onewa gains a gleam in his eyes that makes him consider if he should’ve said anything. His brother parts with “I’ll be right back”, which says nothing to Whenua. So he has to lie there - okay, the pillows are comfortable but still - and wait.

To his surprise, Onewa comes back carrying another of their siblings. Nuju is fuming as he puts him down next to him on the pillows. Onewa points at him.

“He’s still dizzy after cracking his head on the floor yesterday. Keep him here so that he rests, he was all night up trying to stargaze. If you can get him to sleep, all the better. I don’t care how you do it.”

His finger wanders to Whenua.

“Nuju, sleep on Whenua. Cling to him. I don’t care either, just keep him in one place and that leg immobile. He tried to walk a few minutes ago and could’ve injured it even more.”

Whenua and Nuju stare at him, then at each other.

“That’s cheating,” Whenua says because it is. Oh, it is clever. And devious. The two of them will keep each other on the bed as much from pettiness (I can’t leave so you won’t either!) as from worry about each other. They won’t leave because it means nobody would watch out for the other. And when - not if, but when - they start bickering, it’ll keep them occupied for hours.

“This isn’t a kohlii game. You can’t cheat at recovery.” Onewa dares to roll his eyes. 

“You two should definitely know better after caring for many matoran who should’ve been resting and instead made it worse by working too early. You used to complain a lot about that. Notice the irony?”

Whenua definitely does. Nuju glares harder.

“Oh, go chew on a rock.”

“Glad that you agree, brothers! I’ll come back later to check on you.”

#bionicle #toa metru sibling headcanons #toa metru #toa metru / turaga #whenua #onewa #nuju #spherus magna #bionicle fanfic

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic august 22 — vulnerable — 887 words — this one's a little dark guys, they're not good people! You might not like James' characterisation in this one!

(i was writing for aug 21 still when suddenly Family Line by Ethel Cain came on, that's basically all you need to know)

James hates him.

Can’t stand the cool indifference, the perpetually unshakable air of superiority shimmering around him the same way the ancient, powerful magic clings to him.

Loathes when he can’t seem to bait a reaction out of him when all James wants is to fucking hit him somehow. Land a blow, somewhere. Push and prod and search for chips and cracks in his walls until he finds an opening where he can slip carefully placed venom in his words, wrapped as the harmless sort of quips James always veils his malice with in case someone that shouldn’t be listens too closely, like hostile chisel to noble stone under the cover of the dark of the night.

And sure, everyone that knows of him would tell you, James Potter? The embodiment of Gryffindor, that boy is, but honestly, fuck nobility and honor for a moment, because if the only way James gets to kill the Prince is out of the cowardice of ambush so fucking be it, as long as he gets his fingers on him long enough to watch him crumble underneath the grip.

They’re at it again now.

James had been walking back from the library alone, taking the secret short-cut that’s on the Map.

The others had already gone ahead but he still had to finish extra work, History of Magic, which was boring James out of his brilliant mind and he honestly would have rather had someone hit him with a skull splitting hex than succumb to Binn’s stupid assignment, so he’d been putting it off. 

He was irritated and exhausted and had felt a headache forming and that was before he’d caught Regulus slipping out of one of the abandoned classrooms, dark magic practically wafting after him through the slit in the door and before he had time to spell it incognito.

James doesn’t know how it had started, hadn’t paid particular attention to what was coming out of his mouth as long as it was laced with as much arrogance and disdain and backhanded sarcasm as he could muster after that long day. And, what can he say, it felt good. It was healthy giving yourself an outlet for pent up frustration so who better to direct it at than a spoiled little blood-purist that’d harmed his best friend two times over enough.

And James had crossed his arms at the small of his back, aloof and appearing the definition of relaxed, chisel in a tight crip behind his body, unseen to the eyes of the enemy, and had started knocking away quietly drowned out by the sound of rushing wind as his loyal disguise.

And there’s an old proverb about a hot gust of air, not really doing anything, all bark no bite and wasn’t it a beautifully chilly winter’s evening?

Because then James had leisurely stepped his way forward and said something, almost absentmindedly, of course, something he’d picked up from when Sirius had vented to him one too many times.

“— so spineless, do you not question anything you’ve been brought up with in that house? Brainlessly following—”

And the next thing James knows was the tip of a wand digging into his throat and well, how about that, huh. 

He’d picked right up where he’d left off and it barely took five words and then Regulus was shoving him. And wasn’t that curious?

Abandoning the prime hold on his wand in James’ vulnerable position, arms behind his back, defenceless and Regulus had forgone that position in favour of getting closer and being able to touch James.

Slamming him into the hard stone of the castle, grabbing by the lapel of his button down and yanking him back in only to throw him back against the wall harder. Skull knocking and pain blooming instantly, throbbing and racing down his spine. And Regulus was strong to handle James around like that, a Seeker’s built and James could only imagine the slim form of his torso, ropy muscles under lean flesh, and Regulus was seething, spitting insults and flushed skin and wasn’t that something?

And effort always pays at the end of day, doesn’t it? Because James had steadily been walking up and down those damned walls for years, had kept his eyes wide open and attentive, straining his ears and then he’d finally found the vulnerable spot.

Is gleeful in his victory and Regulus keeps hissing and growling at him, all up in James’ face and then their noses are nearly touching and—

Regulus pants, is a little out of breath and has tapered off and James’ grin is falling.

Because the bloodbath only really starts when you’re past the walls and now James has successfully ducked through the hole where the stone had disintegrated and with no idea what actually awaits him on the other side.

There’s a tension in the liminal space between them. 

The bated breath of soldiers, the men of the front line, waiting for the war cry, the horn to blare, the first torch to be risen signalling their inevitable doom, the kickoff- the start of their end.

When Regulus closes the distance between them James thinks he can hear the rumble of magnificent, ancient stone imploding on itself in the backgroun. Can almost smell the grimy dust wafting off the debris in thick clouds of dirty smoke, settling on the back of his tongue with the addictive taste of ruin.

#i love this one #i went into this wanting to make arrogant!James be bent over a desk but then #as usual he started waxing poetry and now we're here #the spirit of Ethel guided me #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #starchaser #sunseeker #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

[kxxkiecxre]

╰┈➤ keep me warm | Park Jimin

✎PAIRING: Angel!Jimin x Fem!Reader

✎SUMMARY: He’s always there for you when you need him.

✎WARNINGS: y/n’s grandad dies - just angel Jimin comforting Y/N. Child birth.

You wondered if he ever was tired of you. Coming to this huge tree in the depths of this magic like forest, tearing up as you waited for the angelic creature to come to you, wrap you in his warm embrace with his sympathetic eyes and ethereal smile. He kept you safe and sound. No matter what happened in this world, he kept you alive. Safe. Perfectly fine.

It wasn’t like you wanted to burden him, it’s normal. Everyone has an angel with them, you just so happen to be extremely close with him. Finding yourself leaning your head against his white wool jumper, back to his front. The forest was just like you said, magical, flowers of every colour mixed perfectly with each other, trees of all shapes and kinds spaced out over the whole landscape. Sun shining bright down onto the ground, animals of all sorts roaming the forest. It was a safe haven he built just for you. Strictly for you.

If Jimin wasn’t an angel, he would of definitely been your husband, albeit a bit weird, but he’s just as human as you. Just with magic, and extraordinary powers. He was amazing, meeting him was the best part of your entire life. He was just sitting on the bus - despite not needing it, and he saw you tearing up, hugging your knees to your chest and curling up with your head in your lap.

That day was amazing.

Meeting someone as special as him was, rare. He was someone who would dedicate his entire life for someone else. He was the type to take the coat of his back and give it to you and that, that broke your heart. Because you’re sure many people have taken advantage of his kindness.

He held you a little bit tighter today, your body so fragile and heart as palpable as glass. So incredibly fragile. Your body rocked his as you tried to hold back your sobs, his arms wrapping themselves tighter around you, as if to keep you cocooned away from the awful way reality works. His face burying in your neck, entire body hugging you tight, helping you calm.

He was truly the best creature to exist. To walk this earth, he’d deny it but you’ll tell him that till your very last breath.

He thought of as one of his most precious beings. He had a handful of people to protect and help, but you, you were his shining supernova he had to keep fuelling, his biggest mission in this life was to keep you burning for as long as possible. Today, today he was sure a tiny bit of that spark was taken from you, wether that was you giving it your grandfather or not, somehow, it made you even more special.

When you came this place roared to life. The flowers turned as if they had little heads, became more vibrant the second your foot took a step in, the animals began to automatically gather around you. Filled of life and joy, as if singing between each other- they harmonised perfectly.

Life for the human heart could be a bit much, Jimin imagined it like a shell. If you hit too hard, it’ll crack, it can take small punches, small hits, but throughout its strength it’ll start to crack, a little harder and it’ll fracture, and just another little push and it’ll shatter to pieces. Crumbled, dusted and crushed. He had to make sure no one else could do this to you.

Crack that little shell that keeps you alive, happy and healthy. Shiny.

He had to make sure you had a safe place, and he knew that was his arms. You reminded him of his own little sweet sound of a beautiful smooth melody, so soft and soothing, wonderful and joyful. Blooming with life and full of love. You were a woman he had a pleasure of protecting, even if he wasn’t specially your designated angel, you were his precious little human. He was going to love you from a distance, but nurture and help you sprout at any chance.

Any time you’ll need him, he’ll drop everything and come back to you.

The minimal wind blew your hair around your face, your body calming in his hold as he looked at your teary eyes, a smile lacking that usual shine, lips cracked and red. He hated seeing your glow struggle to spark.

“Thank you Jimin.”

“Always.”

Jimin watched your life from a front seat. From comforting nineteen year old Y/N, to your twenty first birthday party. That day you met a man named Hoseok, your true angel. That was the man he saw you argue with, the man who broke your heart and you’d come to him for comfort, the man who made you laugh the most and the man who gave you an additional spark. The same man that seven years later, got down on one knee and asked you to marry him.

That same day, he saw your eyes shine brighter by a little more, your smile become bigger and your features softening. Amazing.

He witnessed your successful career, the money you could enjoy and take holidays with. You never had to worry about that, not with Jimin by your side. With the amazing saving skills he thought you, you put away enough money to put along with Hoseoks and purchase a cozy, beautiful family home. Your little forest right at your back garden.

You never forgot about him. Ever. Always, at the end of the week you’d come to your favourite tree with different homemade treats and catch him up on everything he already saw happen.

He spent the next year watching you prepare for your wedding, everything themed towards your secret garden. Mixed flowers, fairy lights strung up and everything was perfect and serene. That day Jimin teared up a little when he heard your vows, and the ring around your finger. That day, though a little jealous, he was ridiculously happy excited and content for you. His supernova growing brighter every day.

Another three years passed, and you started growing a small bump. A little life inside your belly, and everyday, Jimin casted a little spell to keep you extra safe and lucky. Following you - invisibly, everywhere. Making sure you were 100% safe. For nine months he saw you get bigger and bigger, brighter and brighter. You were soft and squishy, he knows because many times when you’d come to the forest, he have to rub your feet, and legs, help you relieve the aching pressure on your muscles, that despite his efforts to keep you away so you wouldn’t strain yourself so much, you just wouldn’t listen.

It was you coming a little more often, asking him advice for baby names, you didn’t want to know the gender until the birth, so you had to pick two names. He listened to every complain, every suggestion, every little story you had to tell him intently. Looking at you with so much happiness and love.

Finally, he witnessed the birth of your beautiful baby boy. A little mini you. He watched happily as you held your baby for the first time, your face full of joy and ecstasy. You had an amazing vibrant glow now. Absolutely beautiful.

“I have decided the name.”

“Do tell” he said, sitting on the chair by your side.

You smiled at him, lips full and plush, skin radiant and eyes glimmering with so much love.

“His name is going to be Jimin.”

He froze. Body still as he looked at you suspiciously, trying to figure out if you were tricking him somehow. But after a couple of beats he realised you weren’t, not with the way you smiled so softly and sweetly at him with innocent bug eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I have a certain someone in my life named Jimin, you know he uses magic and all these powers because he’s an angel and so basically he thinks I don’t know when he follows me around ‘invisibly’ or that he went out of his way to find my husband and bring him here, my designated angel and husband who roamed to the wrong country,” you chuckled, “he thinks I don’t know that he casts little spells of safety and luck on me, and sometimes casts of extra protection. Or that he gets our forest animals to follow me when he can’t. But, otherwise, he’s the most beautiful and important creature in my life. The most wonderful thing to happen to me, a person I can trust with everything. There’s no limit with Jimin. No filter. I can tell him about slime and he’ll listen so carefully intently, he’ll always comfort me when I need it, and most of all, he sacrificed his love for my happiness.”

“Y/N,” he tried, body heating up with the emotions taking over his body as your teary eyes gave him the softest luck.

“I know he gave up his love for me so I could be with Hobi. But, I can promise him, that I will never, ever, love another creature, person or anyone for that matter, the way I love him. Jimin is a selfless person, who’ll give his last dime for someone else’s happiness. That is what Jimin means to me.”

He wipes at his eyes, hugging you with one arm under your head and his lips kissing the top of your head, looking down upon your baby boy,

“And he’s handsome like me.”

an: this was sooo cute ahh

NO COPYING, TRANSLATION, OR CREATION OF ANY KIND PERMITTED!!!!!

MASTERLIST

#bts drabble #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #park jimin #bts park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #bts jimin #jimin x female reader #jimin au #jimin x you #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin ah #jiminshiii #jimin icons #jimin edit #jimin smut

[doodle17]

Do you have any headcanon voices for Raz and Co. when their older?

I do! Actually!

I cant really see any other voice for Raz. It just fits him too much to change! Raz himself thought his voice would change at least a little. He was hoping he would start to sound more professional and charismatic, almost Matthew McConaughey-esque. He manages the charisma and professionalism, but he still sounds the same, more similar to Richard Horvitz's regular talking voice. The only thing that really changed is volume, if anything. He tends to project his voice (unintentionally most of the time) and when intentional, it's usually to fit the very comic book style action hero "Stop right there, you fiend!" Voice. He sometimes reverts to sounding like squeaky preteen when nervous. But it makes it really easy to impersonate as a lady when disguised or over a phone call though!

Lili's voice changed a bit, actually. Unlike Raz, her voice actually got deeper.(imagine Lilly from "The Walking Dead" but a little higher and more raspy) Similar to Raz, however, I can't imagine any other voice for her other than her og voice actor, Nikki Rapp (Which is why I used Lilly as an example lol) Her voice does tend to change depending on her mood. Her voice can get hissy and gravelly when angry or frustrated, but she can also get loud, even screechy when panicked (or, if you really piss her off. )

Dogen sounds similar to Josh Gad. LMAO I KNOW but seriously! Idk how to explain it, but he has the right pitch and some other stuff I can't put my finger on.... It just fits to me!

Bobby's voice got deeper, waaay deeper, and a little nasal-y. His lisp is completely gone as well. His voice is pretty gravelly when talking normally, and trying to understand what he's saying when he whispers is tricky. The grit in his voice is seems intentional, almost as if he's doing it on purpose to seem more gruff and intimidating. Despite how deep his voice is, he can get pretty whiney, and similarly to Lili, his voice gets screechy when stressed.

Chloe's voice sounds the same. A little deeper but still raspy, little more pointed and professional. She's pretty good at tricking people into thinking she's a kid on the phone or from a distance.

Clems voice also got deeper, but he very obviously trys to elevate it to sound more perky and young. It makes him very prone to voice cracks, and she gets sore throats more often than one would think. He sounds a little similar Rob Paulson, actually. Imagine if Rob Paulson was trying to do an impression of a perky teen and there you go! He's also still trying to keep up that peppy and encouraging cheer persona, so she tends to shout a lot. His voice can get deep and pointed when angry. I think threatening would be a good word to describe it.

Crystal's is the same, she's definitely more relaxed so her voice isn't as squeaky or high. It can get more wobbly and unstable when she shows literally any emotion.

D'art's voice sounds like Tom Kenny, with a bit of a feminine twang to it. Also full of cynicism and bitterness, but thats always how he's always been.

Elton voice sounds like Johnny Depp doing an awkward/nervous voice (I'll use Victor Vandort as an example). He can also sound very desperate and whiney. He's usually quiet, any attempt on raising his voice usually result in him shrinking back down and becoming mumbly. Of course he can be assertive when needed, and he can project his voice pretty well.

Kitty has a deep and more richer voice. Very particular and pointed. she can go from superiority and poise to crude and sharp in seconds.

Franke's voice is surprisingly deep. She can sound very blunt and gets a little gruff, but she's got charisma and sounds relaxed most of the time. She doesn't raise her voice often, she usually prefers to get her point across with a firmer tone, making her sound more grumble-y and makes it harder to understand what she's saying.

HONORABLE MENTIONS JUST BECAUSE I WANTED TO:

Mirtalas voice starts getting more raspy, similarly to Raz, and Queepie's gets a little more nasal like Frazies! He's bummed about it because he was hoping to get a deep booming voice like his dad

#Houuuughhhhh #Holy shit #I'm tired #I'm going to bed now #This isn't even all of them I just picked ones I already thought about for a while #Do I tag them all? #doodles rants #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts #anon babble #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #bobby zilch #chloe barge #dogen boole #kitty bubai #franke athens #crystal flowers snagrash #clem foote #Elton fir #D'Artagnan Astubelief #mirtala aquato #queepie aquato #I DID IT #Psychonauts au #Psychonauts future