#flat belly drink | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anbuselvi1 · 1 year

Text

Best Belly Fat Burner: Top 7 Thermogenic Fat Burning Pills of 2023

(Ad) Belly fat is one area of the body that seems to be the most resistant to diet and exercise. When calorie reduction and regular exercise just aren’t enough, it’s not uncommon to seek the best fat burner supplements to help rev up your weight loss journey. The best fat burning supplements can help boost metabolism, suppress appetite, increase energy levels, and help you burn belly fat…

View On WordPress

2 notes · View notes

neutralaffiliate · 2 years

Video

Recipe: 1 Green Apple 1 Handful of Celery 1 Organic Cucumber 1 lemon 1 Ounce of Fresh Ginger

Do you want to get rid of excess weight, improve your complexion and detoxify your body?

We invite you to try Detoxyn >>

#smoothie #detox smoothie #weight loss diet #best way to lose weight #weight loss drink #flat belly #metabolism #fat loss drink #slim

2 notes · View notes

mooneyedmermaid · 3 months

Text

like srsly i would be considered so cute if we hadn't fucking NORMALIZED getting SURGERY to look like a FUCKABLE ALIEN

#she got big eyes little nose full lips but that shit is #slightly asymmetrical #belly flat if i don't drink water for a few hours but otherwise fuck no #tbh i think i was still pretty decent by late 10s standards too #h o w e v e r

1 note · View note

weightlossesason · 4 months

Text

#healthyfood #tips for health #loseweighfast #flat belly #weight loss #fat loss #drinks #nutrition #smoothie #recipes

0 notes

simonzmama · 1 month

Text

daddy bod simon anyone? 🙏

your face presses deep into the soft, feathery pillows, simon’s breath hot against your cheek as he lays the side of his head against yours till your temples kiss.

your hands lay above your head, simon’s thick, hands laid flat against your knuckles till the nerves in your fingertips zap as he digs his nails deep into the flesh of your palm.

his body mushes against yours, his plush belly pressed flat against the pretty arch of your back as he presses his cock to the absolute hilt in you.

n you can feel it, every vein, every twitch that has your toes curling n body reeling away from him when the tip lays a kiss against your cervix.

“si-simon, oh my god, baby, mhpm,” the pretty noises leaving your parted lips only fuel simon further, his warm body fucking into you deeper if even possible at this point.

your hands tangle away from his, nails dragging deep into the back of his soft thighs. the toned muscle now fatty with age, drinking n the damn way you feed the man like he ain’t ever ate.

he hisses, teeth baring against the edge of your cheek n he presses his hips extra deep, sure that there’s lines of blood pouring from his thighs n ass with the way you scratched his skin off the bone.

“be nice, baby,” he huffs in a puff of breathless rasp, fingers settling against the arch in your waist. “tryna make ya’ feel good, don’t make me leave ya’ high n dry, bunny.”

my lil mutual feedin a mffff sorry to disappoint wit this shi, bout ready to fall df to sleep over here. probs gon rewrite this

8K notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 4 months

Text

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley x female reader

5K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 28 days

Text

Simon Riley / female reader Secret baby trope / 18+ Previous

Simon appreciates where Kyle has decided to put down some roots.

He likes this part of the city. It's busy, but manageable, and Kyle's managed to find himself a decently sized home, one big enough to accommodate both Simon and Johnny when they're on those swing days between missions. There are enough beds or couches for when the three of them get pissed at the pub down the street and have to stumble back nearly crossed eyed.

Of course, he never talks about the other reason why he finds this neighborhood so charming, but he suspects both the boys know.

He likes to hold onto your memory like a little secret. Knowing you're possibly still living in this area, in that flat, is enough to bring him out to the pub after they all get back to the house and crash.

Kyle's mouth twists into a mischievous smirk, and he glances at Johnny before honing his sights. "Fancy a drink, LT?"

It's been just over a year since Simon has been here. He rubs his palms against the bar top, trying to casually glance around, searching for something he knows he won't find. He can still hear you, still smell you, still feel your skin against his. He's spent the last year jumping from mission to mission, country to country, plane to plane- and above the carnage and the sounds of killing and fighting-

he still hears your voice. His name on your lips. When he closes his eyes to go to bed at night, it’s your face he sees, lulling him to sleep.

A fantasy.

"Did ye get her number, at least?" Johnny interrupts his memories, and Simon shakes his head.

“Better off that way.” He rolls his shoulders, stretching sinew and bone, trying to force his body to relax. It’s always like this, between ops. He’s stuck in fight mode, wires all crossed, head still fuzzy. Every now and then, his ears will ring, and he tries shake it loose, echoes of gunfire popping inside his skull.

He chooses to drown it out.

All three of them do. It works well enough, and they stumble back to Kyle’s, taking their respective places strewn across the house, Simon falling asleep face down in the guest bed without another drunken thought.

The sun cracks through the blinds too quickly. He stomachs a tea, and advises the Sergeants he’s heading back early to wrap up some paperwork, and steps out onto the street.

It’s later than he’d like, sidewalk already bustling with throngs of people, and he pulls his nondescript black ball cap farther down over his face. The sun is warm, glaring onto the back of his neck until his jacket almost feels claustrophobic. His hands fall idle as he walks, so used to holding a weapon or clicking the mic open on a radio, he doesn’t know what to do with them at rest. Doesn’t know how to hold them. There’s a void there, a void everywhere, etched into his skin, a whisper of the man he should’ve been.

The sidewalk may be busy, but he doesn’t miss a face. He never does, it’s a part of the job, but when his eyes glance across a woman who looks just like you- his entire life stutters to a stop.

You have a baby strapped to your chest. A chubby, round baby who kicks their feet when you lower your head to murmur something to them, palm flat against their belly.

You have a baby? You have a baby. There’s a pang of sadness in his heart, a swell of disappointment as he rationalizes what he’s seeing, the proof of you belonging to someone else, having a life with someone else, loving someone else. He only had you for a night, and he knows it, but he can’t pretend he hasn’t been seeing your face every time he closes his eyes for the past year.

It’s closure. A final nail in the coffin. The end of something that never was.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers, a sunny spring day, a bouquet of overflowing flowers. Does your hair still smell the same? Would you still make the same noises for him?

Reality brings him back to life earth. Are you in love, or married, or with the father?

And then you turn his direction, closing the gap, failing to notice him standing like a stiff board in the middle of the sidewalk until you’re too close, eyes darting up and up-

to meet his.

Your mouth drops open. An ocean of people flow around where you’re both frozen in place, and he gives you a sheepish smile. “Uh, hey.”

Your hand cups the back of the baby’s head, and you look panicked, scared, before you blurt out the one thing he didn’t expect:

“I didn’t know how to contact you.”

Wait… what?

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #phone writing

2K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 6 months

Text

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic

2K notes · View notes

pureneturalrrecipe · 1 year

Text

Mix Apple with Orange , Cinnamon and your belly fat will be gone ! Lose 15 kilos in 25 days

youtube

0 notes

weightlossesason · 4 months

Text

#healthy living #weight loss #fat loss #flat belly #loseweighfast #tips for health #healthyfood #health & fitness #food and drink

0 notes

tophealth16 · 6 months

Text

youtube

1 note · View note

seven-stars-in-his-palm · 2 months

Text

analyzing some images (for fun)

so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)

everything under the cut !

unique traits

aziraphale:

1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm

2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr

3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)

4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.

5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

crowley:

1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧

2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3

3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT

4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it

5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞

6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH

similarities

mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….

1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos

2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….

3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….

4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever

5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃

6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,

okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable spouses #dont have an analyzing tag so. this is it for now

915 notes · View notes

punkshort · 17 days

Note

ikwya is so good!!! if u have time i would love to see their relationship before they were officially together or the night they became official. but you are so talented can’t wait for the next update!:)

Yes! Love this idea, thank you for requesting! I won't end up writing and posting this until the last chapter is posted because I have a few other things I need to work on first so I really hope you liked how it ended ❤️

Stubborn

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, feelings

WC: 1.4K

Joel's fingers dug into your hips as he slammed into you, eliciting a broken moan each time his thighs collided with the backs of yours. He was close, and so were you, but he didn't want it to end just yet because he knew when it was over, you would be gone.

"Joel," you whined, your voice muffled by the sheets. You frantically reached behind you to grab his wrist and he allowed himself drop down, pushing your hips into the mattress in the process with his chest pressing against your back. You found yourself face down, flat and completely confined by his body. He nipped and sucked on the side of your neck, hoping to leave a mark, while his coarse beard dragged over your soft skin.

"How's that feel, baby?" he groaned in your ear, squeezing his eyes shut when you pulsed around him.

"So good," you gasped, "so deep like this."

"I know," he murmured, biting down on his lip when he felt the familiar pull low in his belly. "Fuck, I know. So goddamn tight."

"Oh, my god!" you cried out, your arm flailing around aimlessly, trying to find something to hold onto. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together while maintaining a brutal pace with his hips until he felt you gush around him, curses and sobs tumbling weakly from your lips, your fingers clutching his so tightly it almost hurt.

"That's it," he praised, feeling his own climax swelling. "So good, baby. S-so good. All mine, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Say it," he commanded through gritted teeth.

"I'm yours," you mumbled weakly, still recovering from your orgasm.

That was all Joel needed to hear. He yanked his hips back, making you yelp from how roughly he pulled out, and gripped the base of his cock, stroking it until he came all over your back. Hot, white ropes of his seed painted your sweaty skin until a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, gasping for air and staring down blankly at your back, watching as his spend slowly dripped over your sides. Not feeling very confident he could stand and walk to the bathroom, he leaned over to grab a bandana from his jeans pocket and wiped up his mess. You instantly pushed your knees down, lifting your lower half from the mattress, but his hand was at your back, pressing you down. You complied and he laid down on top of you, wiggling your ass underneath him with a giggle but he just smiled and closed his eyes, drinking in your scent.

"Joel, I don't think I can do round two."

"Not lookin' for round two," he mumbled, planting a kiss against your shoulder. He slid his palm down your forearm and threaded your fingers together again, enjoying the moment before it became too intimate and you began to writhe, shaking his hand loose.

"I gotta get going," you said, still pinned down by his weight.

"Why?"

You gave him a dry laugh. "Why? Because I'm tired and I want to go home."

"You can stay here."

"Joel..."

"C'mon, can we please stop this?" Joel asked, but he rolled off you anyway. He wasn't going to force you. You sighed and turned around, sitting up in bed and raking your fingers through your hair.

"What difference does it make? Everyone knows we're messing around, no one's going to make a move on me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Exactly. What difference does it make if you just stay the goddamn night once in a while? Quit bein' so stubborn," he rubbed his eyes, trying to mask his frustration.

You sighed and looked down at him, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought it over.

"Does it really mean that much to you?"

He dropped his hands from his face, eyes locking with yours. "Yes."

With an exasperated groan, you flicked the sheets open so you could settle in between them and rested your head on the pillow. "Alright, then."

"Really?"

"Just this once, and only because I'm exhausted," you said, eyes already closed. You wrapped your arms around your pillow with a sigh while he laid there, still staring at you.

"What if I don't want it to just be this once?" he asked softly. You cracked open one eye but didn't say anything. "What if I wanted more than just messin' around?" he added, scanning your face for any sign that you felt the same way. You had to.

He expected you to maybe get annoyed or possibly make a joke and go to sleep, but what he certainly didn't expect was for your eyes to suddenly fill with tears. His own eyes widened and he inched forward, reaching for your hand, when, much to his surprise, you met him halfway.

"I'm not a good person, Joel. I've done some terrible things," you whispered brokenly, and his chest tightened. If you only knew.

"We've all done bad shit to survive," he said, squeezing your hand.

"I've killed innocent people," you sniffled, "I've stood by and watched children-"

"Hey," he said, cutting you off, "so have I. But that don't mean we shouldn't be allowed to be happy, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe it does." It broke his heart seeing you so distraught. All he wanted to do was take your pain and shove it deep down with his own. You didn't deserve to suffer. As much as you thought otherwise, you deserved something good out of this world, and he desperately wanted to be the one to share that with you.

"C'mere," he whispered, tugging on your hand. You hesitated for a moment before sliding across the sheets and into his waiting arms. He held you close against his chest and buried his nose in your hair, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Not everythin' is black and white anymore," he began, "we do what we do to survive and protect the people we love. You ain't a bad person, baby," he planted a kiss on the top of your head and he could feel your silent tears seeping into his skin. "Is that why you've been pullin' away from me all this time? You think you don't deserve to be happy?"

He felt your shoulders shift with a little shrug and then you mumbled into his skin, "that, and maybe I'm too fucking terrified to risk losing someone I care about again."

His breath caught in his throat. You cared about him. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, then hooked his finger under your chin, forcing your face away from his bare chest.

"You promise?" you whispered, and the way you looked so vulnerable in that moment made him weak. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah, I promise."

You slowly carded your fingers through his hair, admiring how each curl fell back into place. "So how much more are we talking, here?" you asked, your voice sounding normal again, but he could hear the teasing lilt behind your words. He grinned.

"Oh, I want it all," he told you, watching the corners of your mouth twitch. "I wanna take candlelit baths together and hold hands while we're walkin' down the street. I wanna dance with you in front of the whole damn town and carry you home when you drink too much." You giggled and wiped the last of your tears away while his grip around your middle tightened. "I wanna take care of you when you're sick. I wanna fight 'bout stupid shit just so we can make up. But mostly I just wanna be there. When you're happy, sad, pissed off, excited... I just wanna be the one you come to, no matter what." He watched your expression soften a bit and he pinched your chin. "Think we can do that?"

You sighed and dramatically rolled your eyes. "I'm not really a bath person."

"We can negotiate that one."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, biting back your smile before nodding. You squealed when he rolled over and caged you in underneath him, his mouth crashing down on yours while his heart slammed excitedly in his chest. You wanted him, you wanted him. Then you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his half hard cock rubbing against your center, making you both moan.

"Okay, I think I'm ready for round two," you told him with a grin.

#ask #ikwya fic #drabble #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

626 notes · View notes

shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

You don't need anyone else but us.

TW: implied dub-con, drug usage.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.1K

A/N: Im biting my knuckles at the idea of you going on a date with this guy at some restaurant, and the bum slips some aphrodisiac into your drink :)

It started small, with symptoms so faint they were barely discernible. Fanning yourself with your hand, you hoped to keep the beads of sweat forming at the nape of your neck from ruining your perfectly coiffed hair.

“Is it just me or is it hot in here?” you asked your date with a flustered, timid smile.

“No, I feel fine, but you do look a bit rosy. You alright?” As you give him a reassuring nod, a striking hum passes through your body, like a raindrop rippling still water, and every wave shoots arousal straight to your core.

He reached across the table to grasp at your wrist, bringing you closer to him so he could press a cool hand to your burning forehead. “You’re burning up, sweets. Maybe it’s time we take you home, hm?” You try to stammer out a response, but fire is pooling in your belly, making it hard to think. He quickly raises his hand, and gestures for the tab, then changes seats to be right next to you. “I’ve got you.” The fabric of his long sleeve grazes your uncovered back as he pulls you flush against him with his arm, and every shift of it scrapes at your nerve endings.

The pants that escape your mouth sound deafening in your ears, every twitch of your muscles amplified. It hurts, and even then, the edges of that pain are blurring, twisting into scalding pleasure. Your cheek feels the vibrations of his voice as your head rests in the hollow of his throat, and with the last of your lucidity, you catch the tail end of the conversation between your date and the server.

“— she’s had too much to drink, I’m afraid,” and through fogging vision, you observe as he hands the server the two wine glasses, remnants of red liquid at the bottom— but he had finished his wine and the rest of yours. “Have a good evening.”

He moves to get up, scooping you in his arms, and you’re powerless in your vulnerable state, body listless against his, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Before you know it, you’re being practically carried out the door, frosty air nipping at your feverish skin. Your date bends his legs to hook his arm under your knees, and with a grunt, picks you up in a cradle carry. Head lulling on his chest, a pathetic whimper slips past your lips at the smell of him and his cologne that you had formally thought was overpowering.

“I know, sweets. We’re going to my flat, and I’ll take good care of you there.” But as he approaches his car, you’re abruptly wrenched from his arms, an unmistakable voice speaks up, tone harsh, severe.

“She’s not goin’ anywhere with you.” Simon?

Simon gently lowers you onto your wobbly legs, allowing you to steady yourself against the car. The freezing surface of it stings, a raw sensation surges through your body, and a sibilant hiss escapes your mouth.

Simon steps away, and Johnny takes his place, cupping your face. You let out a soft moan at the contrast of his chilly hands on your burning skin. “Hey,” he softly says, “you a’right?” Your peripheral vision catches a flurry of quick movements, making you instinctively turn your head, but Johnny’s hands exert a gentle force, keeping your head locked in position, fixated on him.

“Eyes on me, bonnie.” Johnny’s hands lower, trailing down to your neck, cool fingers enveloping your throat, and this time, you mewl. Loudly. “Och, I ken, i ken. We’ll be home in no time, hm? Simon’s just takin’ out the trash.”

Johnny’s thumb traces soothing circles against your fluttering pulse, and you whine when you imagine those circles being drawn on your throbbing clit, how euphoric it would feel. Maybe it would assuage the liquid fire in your veins— satiate the need to be filled, stretched.

“A’right hen, we’re takin’ ye to my house, gotta keep an eye on ye.” Johnny lifts you into a side carry, effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing. “It’ll be over soon.” God, you hoped so.

Placing you on his bed, Johnny takes off your heels and sits by your side, holding your hand in his. “How ye doin’?” Blinking, you thickly swallow and realize that your mind is clearer than it was at the restaurant. “Better, I think.”

Johnny hums, and turns to Simon. “Can ye get her a glass o’ water?” Simon looks at you, then flicks his gaze to Johnny, and slowly dips his head, before pivoting to leave. “Just rest, hen, I think that dunderheid spiked yer drink. I told ye he was nae good, but nae, the lass is grown, she can make her own decisions, hm?” Johnny reaches out to caress your sweaty forehead and drags his roughened knuckles across your cheekbone.

With a gentle touch, you reach up and firmly press his hand against your cheek, nuzzling it, and holding his gaze. “I’m too dependent on you,” and Simon walks in, a glass of water in hand, and your eyes shift towards him, “the both of you. One day, you’ll both move on, and,” your voice trembles, choked with emotion, as tears gather in your eyes, “I’ll be left behind and—” Simon’s deep timbre voice cuts off your outburst with a stern tone.

“Enough.” Johnny gives Simon a reprimanding look, and takes the glass, handing it to you.

“What Simon means t’say, is that yer haverin’, hen. Go on, drink yer water. All of it, gotta rehydrate, a’right?” As you knocked back the cup, you remained oblivious to them sharing a meaningful look, and Simon giving an imperceivable nod, one that Johnny reciprocated.

Carefully setting down the glass on the nightstand, you get cozy under the covers, breathing in his comforting scent, eyes sliding shut. Johnny pats your leg once and whispers, “Get some rest, hen. We’ll be outside, call if ye need anythin’.” A sluggish tip of your head is his only response, and without a sound, the two men exit the room.

Johnny casually rests his weight on the kitchen island, absentmindedly scratching his arm. “How’d ye get that bawbag to use the drug?” Simon shrugs nonchalantly, and says, “A little persuasion.” Johnny hums low, and after a pause, questions, “And how long will it take fer the drug in the water to take effect?”

“I gave her room temperature water,” Simon chuckles, “I say 5 minutes, give o’ take.”

In a matter of moments, the distinct sound of your high-pitched keens and mewls reached their ears, causing them to exchange a knowing look.“Heads er tails?” Johnny asks, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Simon removes his mask, running his fingers through his tousled hair, and states, “Tails and the winner gets to come in her first.”

They shake on it.

A/N: i was told to make a pt.II by my moot @rookiesbookies so I GUESS I WILL. set under the cbf! johnny x ghost au.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #ghoap x reader #cod #john soap mactavish #cod mwii #cod mw2

1K notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

Text

Astarion x f!Tav pregnancy headcanons

@treshmind @chillingintheunderdark @azu21 @rachelle-on-the-run

Masterlist

Headcanons

Ok, it turned out to be much longer than I expected. And very angsty

None of you have any idea it was possible to get pregnant

Astarion is a vampire. He definitely "shoots blanks."

The ability to knock someone up was taken away from him along with his life many years ago.

Until one day, you feel weird. Sick, exhausted.

It's not like you pay too much attention to your monthly bleeding (what's the point anyway?"), but you notice it's been a while

And Astarion, after feeding on you, says your blood tastes different. Not bad, not weird. Just different.

And the scent isn't like it was before.

You are terrified you've caught one of these magical sicknesses or curses no one knows how to cure.

You go to the healer, who gives you a herbal drink, saying, "Take this; it's good for the child, and don't bother me until you feel something is off."

And you stay in the healer's hut, shocked, trying to understand what kind of child he is fucking talking about?

Until you realize.

You remember the night half a month ago, when a group of thugs attacked the village where you and Astarion live together.

Astarion returned from the woods drunk with sentient creatures' blood, his eyes glowing red and his skin blazing hot.

He just swept you away from your feet, dragged inside, stripped you of your light armor, and pinned you to the bed until the next sunset.

It was not the first time he was that "blood drunk," - but it was the first time it happened one of the days you could possibly conceive.

It's just a coincidence. The coincidence you carry inside your womb.

You return home, scared and shivering. By the time Astarion notices you are back, you are already crying.

You have no fucking idea how to be a mother. You have no fucking idea how to raise a child. What are you carrying within?

A person? A monstrosity? Your own death?

What creatures are born from vampires?

Astarion is no less shocked.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and swears in Elven.

The healer may be wrong. You can't get pregnant.

And now you feel even more uneasy - what if you were assaulted?Do you have any memory gaps? What if someone used you?

Astarion leaves at sunset, and you stay alone with your fears

He returns in the morning, calm and quiet. Noticing you are still on your feet, he carries you to bed and asks to sleep while he "figures something out."

When you wake up in the late evening, Astarion has a sudden mood change

He is happy. He smiles. He pulls you to himself, placing a hand on your flat belly.

Then you notice a stack of books.

Dhampirs. Children of mortals and vampires. With insanely long lifespans, immunity for vampirism, and living beating hearts.

"You see. That's what we are going to have".

You slowly start adapting to your new condition,

The child grows fast, and your body changes. Breasts get a bit bigger, and you can't wear your light armor anymore (it is suddenly too small). You are constantly tired and hungry.

Even the most innocent teases from Astarion make you cry - and he panics every time it happens.

He has no idea how to handle a pregnant woman.

You quarrel. Constantly. Because you are both scared to death.

What is worse, Astarion has a serious regress. There are nightmares and self-harm tendencies. He runs away to the woods or the Underdark tunnels at least once a week, and you lash at him for leaving you alone every time he gets back.

Besides, it's his fault he didn't stop drinking blood that night

You have nightmares, too.

You envision a monster growing within you that will gnaw through your flesh any time soon.

And yes, women die in childbirth. Even if before that, they'd challenged the fucking gods!

One day, Astarion puts his head on your belly

He caresses it and whispers something in Elven.

"I hear the heartbeat," he says, eyes teary. "I hear our child's heartbeat!"

From that moment, everything changes,

He no longer goes away. He helps you bathe and dress. Brings everything you ask for and ensure you are comfortable sitting and walking. He prepares the place for the child (ignoring a very rational fear that either you or the child dies)

And he sews. He makes the set of clothes for the newborn, embroidering it with protective Elven runes.

Sometimes you both relax enough to discuss the future.

The day of birth comes much earlier than you expect. Almost a month earlier.

The midwife, perfectly knowing the father's nature, pushed Astarion out of the room.

And he spends a few hours helpless and desperate, hearing your cries of pain. If it was the night, he could at least go outside, but, as it happens, it's a sunny day.

He hates himself for doing this to you.

And as for you, you had no idea it could be so painful.

Finally, Astarion has enough and returns to you, kneeling beside the bed

The moment you see him, you grasp his hand as if you are drowning

And then it's all over.

A squeal, desperate and angry, rings out through the room, and you see a newborn in the midwife's hands.

A tiny girl with long pointy ears is placed in your hands. Not a monster. She isn't deformed. Just a baby. Who is very angry with the fact she's been pushed out from the warm womb to this cruel and unpredictable world.

Astarion can't believe what exactly he sees.

He has a child. He has a daughter. The most normal thing anyone can think of is now a reality for him, someone who once had to get out of his own grave.

Then you give the newborn girl to Astarion, and the moment he takes her, he bursts into tears, pressing the child against his chest.

The girl doesn't cry anymore, piercing Astarion with her dark eyes.

You, still tired and in pain, drink the healing potion left by the midwife and you look up at Astarion.

He notices your gaze and kisses you.

"My love, thank you. This is a gift", he whispers through the tears.

--

Tag list:

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #dadstarion #astarion being a dad #tav x astarion #spacebarbarian headcanon

1K notes · View notes

c0eu4 · 6 months

Text

CL16 | Real orgasm ♡

Summary: Y/n confess to Charles that she doesn't know what true orgasm is. And he shows her what it is.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fluff?

A/N: Hope you'll like it <3

MASTERLIST request are open

Charles sits down on her sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. She sits next to him, putting the blanket over them.

He takes the remote and turns on the TV. ''What do we watch tonight?'' He asked her, scrolling through the thumbnails on Netflix.

She makes herself comfortable with cushions behind her back and brings her cup of tea. ''I let you choose this time.''

He sighs and keeps scrolling, sometimes reading the summary before finally putting something on.

As the movie starts, she sips her tea, passing her cup to Charles who take a sip too. They're not best friends for nothing. They have known each other since they were little and they always share everything. So him drinking in the same cup as her is certainly not a problem.

And tonight he came to her house to comfort her. Her boyfriend cowardly cheated on her then left her, like a poor toy. Charles helps her to go through this. Even when she were at her lower, he was there.

And what an irony that he put a movie where the main character cheats on her boyfriend with everyone.

''Uhm you might wanna change ?'' He asks her about the third sex scene that happens, where the main character seems really excited about the idea of getting caught.

''Mh no it's ok.'' She squeezed her thighs, wishing her boyfriend was like in the movie, who knows how to bring pleasure to a woman.

''You ok?'' He asked her, putting his hand on her thigh. He really shouldn't have done that. Despite the fact that he's her best friend, she can't control her hormones and can't help but get a little wetter.

''I..I was just thinking about the fact that I have never cum so brutally. Maybe I never cum, I don't know haha.'' He looked at her, stunned. Not because they never talk about sex. But rather by the fact that she admits to him that she has never had an orgasm.

''Was your boyfriend that bad? For never having made you cum?'' She shrugged her shoulders.

Charles finds himself blushing just thinking about Y/n, actually cumming for the first time.

''You..you want me to show you what real orgasm is ?'' He asked her, almost whispering because of his shyness.

She turned her head towards him, her cheeks red. What should she do? She's so horny now that she can't say no. But does that also mean maybe ruining their friendship?

''Y-yes... Please.'' Charles himself didn't expect her to say yes. He brings his head closer to hers, his lips a few millimeters from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips and it gives her goosebumps. She closes her eyes, hoping that Charles will make the first move, because she doesn't dare to.

Just as she was about to open her eyes again, because she thought Charles wouldn't move, his lips stuck to her. His hand slides down her neck and brings her head closer to his, deepening the kiss with small movements. He moves forward so much that she lies down on the sofa, him on top of her.

''You have to tell me now if you want to stop.'' He kisses her cheeks.

''K-keep please..'' He kisses her jaw, under her ear, her neck and her collarbone. His hands slip under her t-shirt, removing it slowly. She feels shivers down her spine when he starts to rub his hands against her waist, hips, thighs and upper ass.

She found herself moaning softly, but naturally, not faking it. His kisses tease her breasts, unclipping her bra easily. He looked up at her, as if he was asking her if he could touch it.

''You..you can..'' She whispered, shyly. One of his hands found its way to massage her breasts, licking the nipples of the other one.

Charles is a smart man. And seeing that she didn't react more than that when he teased her with her breasts, he didn't dwell on it too much.

His kisses keep going lower, until he nibbles softly in her flat belly, removing her pants gently. He takes one of her hands and places it on his hair, indicating for her to play with it.

She runs her hand through it, stroking his soft hair and playing with a few strands with her fingertips. He tries to spread her legs but she unconsciously resists.

''Don't be stressed, princess.. Is it ok if I call you princess?'' She relaxes a little and Charles manages to position himself correctly between her legs.

''Y-Yes.. I like it.'' She whines softly when she feels him blowing on her panties.

He bites his bottom lip, looking at her, full of lust and hunger. A white stain is visible through her panties and Charles wants to eat her out so badly.

As if to answer him, she lightly presses Charles' head towards her privacy. He doesn't wait for a second signal and lets his fingers slide between her folds through her panties.

''Charles !'' She moaned, surprising him and herself. He allows himself to remove her panties, seeing her completely naked in front of him.

''You're so beautiful, princess..'' She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened when she felt Charles's lips against her bundle of nerves. He grabs her arm that's hiding her mouth, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.

''Close your eyes and don't hold back your beautiful voice..'' She closes her eyes like Charles told her, enjoying his lips and tongue.

He makes small circles with his tongue, using his free hand to push a finger inside her. She grips his hair a little tighter, digging her nails into the skin of his hand with her other hand.

The room is filled with her moans, sounding like a melody to the ears of Charles's. He inserts a second finger, making her moan louder. She feels a sensation she has never felt. Her whole body is tense and her legs are shaking uncontrollably.

She can't help but moan, Charles moving his fingers in and out quickly, in a wet and tight song. And when her whole body relaxes, without even realizing it, she drowns Charles with her precious liquid.

Charles is proud of himself. He succeeded in his mission. He made her cum. Probably for the first time in her life, given how quickly she let it go.

He gets up from between her legs after cleaning her as best he could with his tongue. He licks his two fingers, full of her liquid and also cleans his chin with his hand.

She sits up a little straighter on the sofa, not knowing what to do.

''How was it ?'' He looked at her with a naughty smile. She blushes when she sees him like that, his hair all messy by her hand.

''Incredible.'' She finds herself blushing even more when she admits that Charles makes her feel good.

''You.. want to go further?'' She smiles tenderly at him.

''I'm sorry but I'm so tired after.. my first orgasm.'' Charles chuckled and passed to her, her clothes that were on the floor.

''Never say sorry for refusing to go further.'' He passed his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.

''Can you..Sleep with me ?'' She puts her t-shirt back on and takes out her hair with a gesture of her hands. Charles looks at her doing that, his eyes full of love.

''Of course, princess.'' He winked at him, carrying her suddenly like a princess. She clutches her t-shirt, feeling slightly afraid.

''Cha! Careful!!'' He giggles and places her on her bed.

''Do you mind if I sleep in boxers?'' She finds herself blushing again. She knows that their relationship is no longer the same now.

''No no it's ok.'' He removes his jeans and t-shirt quickly, lying down beside her. She doesn't dare to go against him, not really knowing his reaction.

''Y/n?'' He asked her with a soft voice, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

''Yes Charlie?'' Her eyes are wide open, a knot in her stomach.

''Do you want to be my girlfriend?'' She turns red at his request.

''I..I would love to.'' Charles chuckles and moves his head towards her, kissing her tenderly. His hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #help he's so cute #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #smut fanfiction #fluff #smut #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16

1K notes · View notes