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certified-chrisgirl · 2 days

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wisdom teeth — ౨ৎ

chris sturniolo X swiftie!fem reader

summary: the reader gets her wisdom teeth removed

warnings: fluff, mention of blood, needles, bit of crying, and cussing. i think that’s it

pairing : chris sturniolo/reader (she will be a swiftie and i am not sorry about it)

a/n: i got inspo from their wisdom teeth video

“i have never been more nervous for something in my life” i said looking out the car window. saying that i was nervous was a understatement. my knee bounces up and down slightly shaking everything around me

“ma it’s ok stop bouncing” chris says reaching over and putting his hand on my knee. “i’m sorry but you know im terrified of this shit” “yea like that big ass needle” nick says as i glare at him flipping him off. “ok that was not funny” matt said reaching over hitting him in the arm. “im kidding im sorry y/n i swear you’ll be all good”

chris rolls his eyes at his brother returning his attention back to me rubbing my knee as comfort “you’re going to be ok baby i promise i’ll be right there with you the whole time”. i nod my head slowly playing with my fingers.

about twenty minutes later we pull into a parking space right outside of the dentist office. “are you ready?” matt says turning the car off look at me in the rear view mirror. “as ready as i’ll ever be i guess” “you will be just fine ma i promise” he says grabbing my chin and planting a small kiss on my lips.

we all get out of the car and walk towards the elevator. chris grabs my hand squeezing it tight and gently rubbing circles on the back of it. “what floor is it again” nick asks turing to the rest of the group

“10 i think” chris says in response as nick presses the 10th floor. the door opens and we’re met with the front desk.

“ok how you feeling y/n?” matt says as he points the camera towards me. “um nervous like really nervous” i say as i sit down in the dentist chair letting a nervous laugh fall from my lips.

“we’re gonna be right here the whole time kid” nick says walking up next to me. “ok miss y/l/n we’re just going to put this blood pressure cuff and heart monitor on you ok” dr. gabe says holing up the blood pressure cuff and the monitor that goes on my finger

i nod my head and turn my attention back to the three boys. “ugh God i hate that thing that goes on your finger” nick groans “trust me nicolas we know” i say laughing at his complaints

“oh she gave you the full name” chris laughs turning his head towards nick. “ok now we’re just going to prep your arm for the IV. the IV will be what we put the anesthesia through. you’ll fall into a deep sleep not long after we insert the IV” dr gabe says as my eyes widen.

my head snaps towards chris as my eyes start to fill with tears. he kneels down beside me grabbing my hand and wiping my tears with the other “it’s ok baby how about after we will go get ice cream and we can listen to taylor swift on the way home how does that sound” chris says and he uses his hand to block my the needle from my vision

i nod my head slowly trying to stay focused on the blue eyes in front of me. “what’s the first song you wanna listen to” he ask trying to distract me from the fact the doctor is about to insert the IV.

“um i don’t know maybe the last great american dynasty” i say voice still extremely shaky. “yeah that’s your favorite isn’t it?” he says as i nod quickly “ok the IV is in”

“wait what” i say as my head snaps towards my arm. “see you didn’t even feel it” matt says reassuring me. “would one of you guys like to give her a word to remember”

“um how about… willow” chris says look into your eyes as your eyes light up at once again another taylor reference. “i see what you’re doing” i says smiling up at him causing him to chuckle

within 5 minutes my eyes had become droopy and my vision starts to go dark. “hey y/n what’s the word” nick says earning no response as i had fallen into a deep sleep

i slowly start to wake up as noise fills my ears and the light hits my eyes. i look around and see the triplets along with a few doctors. “how you feeling baby” chris says kneeling next to me once again. “is it done? did they take my teeth” i say my voice messed up from the gauze

“yea ma they’re all gone.” “can i go home now” i say as i lean my head against the head rest of the chair. “not yet they have to check and make sure you’re memory is all good” matt says as he records your reactions

“bitch my memory is just fine im not a old lady” i say throwing my hand up. “do you remember what the word was” chris says laughing at the words coming out of your mouth.

“what are you fucking talking about?! what goddamn word” i say look at him like he’s insane. “before you went to sleep we gave you a word. do you remember it” nick says trying to contain his laughter.

“does it look like i fucking remember” i says rolling my eyes. “ok baby let’s stop cussing. we have to be respectful in dr gabe’s office” chris says tucking my hair behind my ear. “oh fuck off tell me the word” i say look at him.

“the word was willow ma” he says as i gasp and my eyes widen “the more that you say the less I know wherever you stray I follow” i attempt to sing but ultimately fail. “oh so you remember the lyrics but not the title” nick laughs

“shut the fuck up” i say flipping him off. “ok put that down” chris says laughing but trying to pull my hand down. “no” i say pulling my hand back up. “ok ok we’re gonna give you another word. how about treehouse” matt says pointing the camera at me as i nod

“oh my god my tongue fell out. the cut my tongue off” i say as one of the gauze falls out of my mouth. tears start to stream down my face as the boys laugh at my screaming

“this is not funny i have no tongue. what the fuck” i say as sobs leave my mouth. “no baby no it’s just the gauze” chris says rubbing my shoulder. “oh” i say looking down at my lap

“y/n put it back in your mouth” nick says laughing and rolling his eyes. “you bitch i am not about to touch that you fucking do it” i say cussing at him. “i love you but i am not about to touch your bloody gauze”

“then what the fuck do i do” i say tears filling my eyes once again. “ask your boyfriend” nick says as a let a gasp out. “i have a boyfriend” i say looking around. “yea ma im your boyfriend remember” chris says chuckling and wiping my tears

“OMG REALLY? you’re so pretty tho. how. hold me” i say wrapping my arms around him. “how did i get you?! God who did i have to fight to win you” i say holding him tight like if i let go he will disappear.

“baby i had to win you” he says kissing my temple. “baby?!?! i want a baby” i say as my eyes widen. “no” chris quickly refuses. “but please i really want one.” “one day baby but not right now” “ugh you don’t love me”

“ok y/n what’s the word?” matt says pushing chris over so im in frame. “what? oh um… it was tree?” i say looking up at them “close it was treehouse ok one more… the new word is lake” chris looks over at me as i nod

“hey hey hey” i say getting chris’ attention. “yea ma?” “i love you” leaves my mouth as i smile up at him. “i love you too” he says as he laughs kissing my nose. “im cold but i hate this goddamn hoodie” i say as i start trying to pull my hoodie off

“but ma you love hoodies” “no i love your hoodies bc they smell like you not this annoying ass shit i own” i say pouting. chris unzips his zip up pulling it off his shoulder and draping it over mine.

“baby thank you!!!!” i say holding it close to me. “ how you doing y/n?” dr. gabe says as he walks in the room. “fine i mean you definitely didn’t just pull my teeth out” the words fall from my mouth sarcastically. he chuckles grabbing the little goodie bag for me to take home

“look y/n you get a goodie bag” matt gasp causing my head to turn towards the doctor. “ok so in here we have a toothbrush, and we have these water flossers that you can use if anything gets sucked back there” he says handing me the bag

“thank you” i says looking inside the bag “how’s her memory” he ask the boys “y/n do you remember the word matt gave you a few minutes ago?” nick says and i look at him. “it was uh… OH it was lake” i say smiling up at them. “yess baby you remembered” chris says squeezing my hand

“see i remember because of taylor. take me to the lakes where are the poets went to die i don’t belong AND MY BELOVED NEITHER DO YOU. omg that song is so good. can we listen to folklore in the car” i say looking at chris like i would cry if he said no

“of course baby” “omg yay” i say smiling and hugging my boyfriend. “since her memory is good she’s free to go home let me go get you guys a wheelchair” dr gabe says turning to walk out the door

“i don’t need a wheel chair i can walk just fine” i say crossing my arms and pouting like a little kid. “it’s just to be safe y/n” nick says chucking at my state.

“ok here we go i’ll wheel her out if that’s ok so you guys don’t have to make a second trip to bring the chair back” he says smiling as chris helps you up and sits you down in the chair

“come on baby grab my hand let me help you get in the car” chris says holding his hand out. “no no i can do it” i say shooing him with my hand and attempt to push myself up but failing.

“ok fine” i say as a grab his hand. he pulls me up and guide me into the car. he goes to close the door but i stop him. “where are you going?” i say as tears start to pour down my face.

“baby it’s ok im just going around to get in” he says wiping my face as i nod. he walks around the car and climbs into the seat next to me. i gasp and throw my arms around him. “baby!!” “hi ma” he laughs at me “i need some air” i groan as i sit back up and roll the window down.

“guys i’ll be back ima go pay for parking matt says closing the door. “wait wait” i say holding my arm out the window. “i love you” i say pointing up at him. “i love you too kid” he says patting my shoulder and walking away

“i love you too nicolas” i say as he turns around and glares at me for giving him the full name. “and i definitely love you” i say leaning against chris’ shoulder. “i love you too baby” he says rubbing the side of my face

“ok im back let’s get going” matt says getting in the car. “turn on taylor swift” i say pointing towards the radio. “here chris” nick says handing the aux cord to your boyfriend.

chris plugs it into his phone and pulls up spotify. the last great american dynasty starts to play through the speakers as i let out a gasp. “rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny. her salt box house on the coast took her mind off st. louis” i sing along and dance in my seat causing chris to laugh

“i love this song so much” i say as i start to cry once again. “i know baby i know” chris chuckles pulling me into his side.

“what song next baby?” chris says as the sing comes to an end. “do mad woman” i say as he nods changing the song

“what did you think i’d say to that there’s a scorpion sting when fighting back” i sing playing with chris’s fingers.

a few hours later i had completely come down from all the medicine leaving me extremely exhausted. “y/n we have a surprise for you” matt says running into the room. “you got to keep all your teeth!!” nick says handing you a container in the shape of a tooth

“OMG YAY i get to put them under my pillow for the tooth fairy” i say grabbing the container and jumping up and down. “ok guys that’s it for this Wednesday video i hope you guys enjoyed watching y/n quote taylor swift” chris says turning the camper to point at nick,matt and i. matt quickly grabs the camera screaming and giving it a kiss causing everyone to laugh as the camera gets turned off

A/n: ME ACTUALLY POSTING?!?! anyways guys i hope you enjoy this is like my first real image so pls be nice😭 request are open as always and i’ll actually do them🤍

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo texts #nicolas sturniolo

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tastybluesprite · 2 days

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Gardening Help

Ahhh I couldn’t wait to write ler!Umemiya!!! Umemiya is literally the most sweetest and most wholesome guy ever. I just want him to hug me, kiss me on the forehead and tell me everything will be okay. But enough about that. I present to you Umemiya tickling Sakura. As he should. Also I kept this pretty manga/anime spoiler free the best I can, so I hope it’s okay!

Warnings: Slight swearing. Tickling (this is a tickle fic afterall).

Summery: Sakura is helping Umemiya with his crops.

Sakura would’ve refused entirely without hesitation had it been anyone else. But when Umemiya requests something of you, it’s not a good idea to turn him down. By no means would Umemiya have killed or hurt him. But let’s just say Sakura could not handle another ounce of that guys puppy dog eyes and pleading.

Now here Sakura was, up on the roof with Umemiya and Sugishita as the three of them tended to the vegetable crops that were being cared for on the Furin Highschool roof.

Sakura had been helping with watering the tomato plants when he heard Umemiya lightheartedly scolding Sugishita.

“Don’t be so rough! You gotta be gentle with these little guys or you’ll drown em’…” Umemiya pouted as he corrected the way Sugishita was watering the cabbage plants.

Sakura watched as Sugishita frowned, seeming upset about not getting it right.

“Oh don’t get all pouty on me…” He smiled a bit as he gently poked the longer haired boy.

Much to Sakuras shock, he watched as Sugishita doubled over in a fit of giggles as he fought helplessly against the silver haired leader of Bofurin. Sugishita was always so stoic and quiet. Sakura had never seen him smile or laugh like this before. Especially not… like this…

Suddenly, Umemiya made eye contact with Sakura, and Sakuras eyes widened. He seemed unsure what to do.

“You all good over there Sakura?” Umemiya called out genially as he approached him.

Sakura felt a wave of heat crawl up his neck and to his ears and cheeks, as Umemiya stopped tickling Sugishita and made an advance towards him.

The older boy knelt down to inspect Sakuras work on the tomato plants.

Umemiya looked at him, seeing Sakuras red face, and he smirked a bit. “What’s wrong? Is somebody feeling a little left out?”

Sakuras face only deepened in color.

“U-um… a-as if! I… just got distracted by the noise! That’s all…!” Sakura protested in his flustered state.

Umemiya just grinned more. “Oh yeah? Then what’re you so flustered for? Hm?” He began landing gentle pokes into Sakuras side, which made the black and white haired boy flinch and squeak.

“W-wait! I… um… y-you… j-just leave me alone! I’m t-tryna do a… favor for you and all…” Sakura attempted his signature glare. But all of that went out the window when Umemiya began gently kneading his sides.

“What’s wrong? Are you ticklish too? Hm? Were you hoping your big bro would tickle you too?”

Sakuras face was red enough as it is. “Y-you.. ain’t… m-my… b-bro-AHAHA!!”

Sakura accidentally let out a loud and short burst of laughter as he squirmed more, trying to keep the oh so embarrassing laughter down as he fended the guy off.

Umemiya just chuckled. “Sure you are! I consider everyone in this town my family after all… that naturally includes you!” Umemiya then gently dig into his ribs, which finally broke him.

“H-EHEhehehehehe!!! N-nahahohoho! D-dahahammihihihit stahahahap!!!” Sakura squirmed and writhed helplessly against his hold as Umemiya attacked all over his ribs.

“Oh… this is a good spot then?” Umemiya teased as he made sure to get in the grooves between his ribs.

He even dared to quickly vibrate a finger in between the two ribs that sat right in the middle, which resulted in a loud squeal.

Sakura writhed and squirmed but it was no use. Umemiya had him good.

“Hmmm… from what I hear this is always a good spot…” Umemiya slid his fingers up into the poor boys armpits.

“SHIHIHIHIT!!! W-WAHAHAHAIT!!!”

“Ehehe… whoops! Hands slipped…!”

“L-LIHIHIKE HEHEHELL THEHEHEY DIHIHID DAHAHAMIHIHIT!!!” Sakura cried out. “STAHAHAHAHAP!!!! UHUHMEMIHIYAHAHA SAHAHAHANNN!!!”

With that last cry for mercy, Umemiya finally relented.

When he let him go Sakura wrapped his arms around his torso protectively. He glared at the older guy grinning at him. “Alright… alright…” said Umemiya with a slight laugh. “How about I get you and Sugishita over there a snack and something to drink. You two deserve a break.

Sakura watched him as he got up to busy himself with a cooler.

As he walked away Sakura couldn’t help feeling… admiration. There was no doubt he admired him. Umemiya was a pillar of strength and positivity. That as well as hope.

However, his thoughts were interrupted abruptly when he saw Sugishita glaring jealous daggers into him.

Sakura just glared right back. Hopefully Umemiya could get back in time before all hell broke loose.

#sprite🥤#tickling #tickle fic #wind breaker #wind breaker tickling #haruka sakura #sakura #hajime umemiya #lee!sakura #ler!umemiya #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle blog #sfw tickle fluff #sfw tickle fic #anime tickling #manga #anime #manga tickling

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whatdoidosatoru · 3 days

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lost in you

pairing: hanma shuji x reader | ao3

in which shuji comes home after a fight and needs to be taken care of <3

wc: 3.3k

cw: first person (sorry i just can't do second person pov), bruises, fighting (duh), no y/n, dry humping, some dirty talk, shuji is so needy, riding, light choking, unprotected sex, creampie, begging, pet names (baby, doll face)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI FUCK OFF 18+

Coming back home late from a fight was normal behaviour for Shuji Hanma. He fought for the thrill of it, for shits and giggles, but what he didn’t like about the whole ordeal was getting scolded for his injuries by his girlfriend.

His sweet girlfriend, who had never even thrown a punch, who didn’t like him fighting, who, despite that, always patched him up whenever he needed it and kissed his bruises better when he came home.

Now it was two in the morning and he had just parked his motorbike outside of the apartment complex. He walked up to the door and buzzed the intercom.

“Baby? It’s me, let me in.”

He wasn’t in the mood for anything apart from lying down pressed against his girlfriend’s chest and resting his aching limbs.

Inside the building, I got off the sofa where I dozed off while waiting for him to come back. I tried to stretch my neck but only made it hurt worse, so I dragged my feet (and the blanket that was draped over my shoulder) to the front door and buzzed him in.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and waited by the door to hear his footsteps and let him in.

He smiled as soon as he saw me standing in the doorway, wrapping his arms tightly around me. He didn’t hold back, squeezing me with all his leftover energy, and I responded with a tight embrace filled with everything I had at the moment.

“Hey baby…” He cooed softly, leaning down to plant a few kisses along my jaw and neck.

I was melting in his arms, slightly slurring my words as I was still waking up.

“Shuji, is everything okay?”

He chuckled softly, gently picking me up off the ground and carrying me into the living room.

“Everything’s fine, baby. Sorry I’m home late,” he says softly, sitting down on the sofa, placing me on his lap, “just…had some assholes piss me off, nothing new.”

I ran my hands across his chest, checking his face and the sides of his head, his back, arms, thighs…everything, for any signs of bruises or other injuries. He definitely had a rough night, his body was littered with new and fading bruises from the previous fights. He allowed me to look him over, gently tilting my chin up with his fingers so he could look into my eyes clouded with worry.

“Baby, I’m fine…I promise I am.”

He assured me softly, pressing a few tender kisses to my lips. My lips stayed in a pout after he kissed them repeatedly, too tired to adjust my face.

“Who was it tonight?”

He couldn’t help but sigh at my question and the fact I even had to ask.

“Ran Haitani and his prick of a little brother.”

He grumbled softly, his hand holding me by the chin to appreciate my pout in full.

I leaned forward to kiss an old bruise on his jaw gently, reaching the back of his neck with my hand. He closed his eyes at my gentle touch, tilting his head back for better access.

“Baby…”

He breathed out softly, his hands tracing down my waist and the tops of my thighs.

His eyes were lidded as he looked back down at me. I shifted on his lap so I straddled him instead of sitting sideways, getting better access to hug him and never let go. I trailed my lips softly along his bruises, down to his Adam’s apple. I let out a hum, feeling him gulp under my lips.

“Baby…what can I do to make you feel better?”

“Mmm…”

He practically purred as he ran his large tattooed hands along my thighs and back, feeling my body against his, distracting him from the soreness of his limbs and his bruises.

“Baby, you really wanna know what’ll make me feel better?”

My hands went into his hair, gently scratching his scalp again, seeing him become putty in my hands.

“Mhmm, what is it?”

He leaned back into the sofa, tilting his head back once more, melting in my hold. He couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, relaxing and erotic at the same time.

“Your touch…” he practically moaned out, “keep doing what you’re doing…it feels so…” he breathed out the word “good…”

I smirked as I tugged the strands of his hair ever so slightly before scratching gently again. I leaned forward to press a kiss to where his jaw met his ear and whispered.

“Feels good, baby?”

He shivered and his eyes drifted shut at my voice, a moan escaping his lips.

“F-fuck baby…” he breathed out shakily, “yeah…it feels…really good. Don’t…don’t stop.”

I let out a breathy chuckle as I saw him draw shallow breaths and shakily speak. His breath was warm against my neck and it sent shivers down my body.

I lifted my hips slightly just to rock them against his, teasing both of us at the same time. I kissed along his jawline and down to his neck, my tongue darting out to taste his skin.

“You deserve to feel good, baby.”

He shuddered at the slight contact of my hips, a breathy moan escaped his lips as his own hips buck to chase mine.

“Mmm…you make me feel so good…” he moaned out softly and pulled me closer, nuzzling into my neck and leaving small kisses on my skin, “don’t stop…”

I arched into his chest, pressing my breasts into him and biting the soft skin of his neck. My hands gripped his scalp tighter, sending shivers down his body. My hips pressed against his harder, begging to release some of the tension that was building between my thighs.

“What do you need baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” I practically moaned into his neck.

“You…”

He all but moaned out, tilting his head to the side to allow me easier access to his neck. His grip on my hips tightened, pressing me further down until I straddled him more firmly. A strained gasp escaped his lips as the movement pressed my clothed pussy against his straining bulge.

“I need…” He bit his bottom lip, barely holding back a low groan, “you, baby…don’t make me say it out loud.”

I chuckled against the sensitive skin of his neck, licking up to his ear and whispering.

“Mmm I kind of want to hear you beg, baby, but I’ll be good.”

I rocked my hips against his bulge, one of my hands still scratching at his scalp lightly, the other snaking up under his shirt and tracing the lines of his abs and chest. My rolling hips sped up slightly, helped by his firm grip on my ass and waist.

His breath came out in short bursts, each sound leaving his mouth either a desperate moan or a choked-back shiver. He couldn’t help himself, his fingers were digging into my plush skin as the friction on his bulge nearly had him seeing stars.

“Baby…f-fuck…” He practically gasped out, a cry for mercy. “B-baby…”

I used one hand to squeeze his cheeks together, pressing a deep kiss onto his pouty lips, swallowing every moan that had slipped from them. I lifted my hips up from his lap and in a soft voice commanded him.

“Unzip your jeans, Shuji.”

As I said that, I moved the cloth of my panties to the side to allow him access to my slippery folds.

His mind was spinning, and with a shaky exhale he was all too happy to comply, his hands making quick work of his button and zipper, releasing his bulge from the denim confines with a sigh of released tension. His gaze flew over my body, ready in front of him, and landed back on my eyes.

“You’re so…gorgeous…”

I reached into his underwear and took out his hard and throbbing cock, positioning it at my entrance, and swiping it along my wet folds a few times for good measure. I took a moment to brush my thumb on his bottom lip slowly and kissed him deeply before sinking down on him, tantalisingly slowly.

His moans were hot on my lips, his breath heavy and thick against me as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to feel my body shivering as I took in his length all the way to the hilt. I moaned into his mouth as I sat flush on his lap. I rose up, sat back down, and rolled my hips a few times to establish my rhythm.

Every roll of my hips and every grind on his lap had him moaning and growling against my already kiss-swollen lips. His arms tightened their hold around me as I bounced on him.

“You look…so pretty…like this…” he moaned softly, his voice gruff, “I can’t…get enough of you…”

I let out a soft chuckle at the compliment, then ran a hand through my hair and threw my head back in pleasure, letting out a loud moan into the air. His lips were on my neck, needily kissing it with an open mouth.

“You’re…so big, Shuji. Mmm feels fucking good, baby.”

He cursed under his breath, burying his face into my neck.

“You take me…so good…” He breathlessly moaned out, his arms flexing around my waist in an effort to keep me closer.

I let out a needy groan, my hands moved up my body to squeeze my breasts before sliding back down to his chest, one still on my own body, rubbing circles around my clit as I mewled from all the sensations. I quickened my hips, desperately chasing a high, but still wanting to keep this going as long as possible.

He watched my hand work my clit carefully as his hands trailed up my sides and back down, settling on my plush thighs. He moaned at the sight, his breath catching in his throat.

“That feel good, baby?” He moaned out softly, his face flushed. “You look so…perfect…like that.”

I mewled at his words, nodding as I bit my lip. My hips sped up, rolling more intensely against him now, feeling his cock stretch me and hit all the right spots.

“S’good baby, feel so…full hmmm” I squeezed out a moan as I was getting close to release. “S-swear sometimes you go and fight just t-to get inside me…”

He chuckled breathlessly, his hand tracing along my thighs before his thumb replaced my fingers against my throbbing clit, rubbing it gently in time with my riding.

“Mmm…maybe I do…” he admitted with a playful smirk, his breath hot and heavy against my sensitive skin, “you know I can’t…get enough of you…”

He moaned lowly into my ear, his voice turning into a soft plea against my tight skin.

“Baby…I’m s-so close…”

I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder as I cried out with his thumb rubbing me just right, increasing the pressure just how I liked it.

“F-fuuck baby…I…don’t stop I-I’m so close…”

I sped up my hips, my rolls and hard drops of my ass against his lap becoming more desperate as he sped up his thumb on my clit. His breaths and moans became heavier, I could feel his breath faltering, warmth spreading against my neck.

His thumb pressed harder, rubbed faster in a desperate attempt to make me cry out in pleasure and cum around him, coming apart on his lap.

“C-come on…come on, for me baby…” he practically moaned the words into my ear, “wanna…see you cum…please…want you to cum…so badly…”

His other hand reached up to the base of my throat to squeeze a little, making me close my eyes in ecstasy and cry out his name at the feeling of his long, nimble fingers restricting my throat. The sight of his large tattooed hand snaking up my body to grip my neck was enough to send me reeling.

“Shu-ah fucccck Shuji!”

He moaned in response to my loud cry, the sound of his name slipping through my throat nearly finishing him off. He gripped my hips with both hands now, pulling me onto him, thrusting upwards into me like a maniac.

“That’s…good girl…” he moaned out against my chest now, grabbing any bit of flesh he could with his teeth, biting and marking anything he could reach, “so good for me…”

I shuddered at the intensity of my climax, my pussy clenching around him, and the sensation of his teeth grazing me, his lips sucking in any bit of skin they could. I cursed under my breath, not being able to slow down the rhythm, rolling my hips as he pushed into me with vigour, trying to get him to cum inside me again, chasing the feeling of being full.

“Shuji, baby, need you…fuuuck…need you so bad please.”

The feeling of my warm walls tightening around him, along with the pleas from my lips were enough to have him growling out my name, his breath became a low gasp as his hips moved to meet mine mid-roll. He was practically melting at the sound of my mewling for him.

“Y-yeah?...” he moaned out breathlessly, leaning down to bite a hickey into the soft flesh above my breast, “need me to…what? Tell me, baby…”

I groaned as he used my own words against me, making me say it out loud. My hips were recklessly rolling into him as I tugged on his hair lightly.

“Baby…I wan-I need you…to…fuck ah…need you to fill me up…ah”

He responded with a low, guttural moan from his parted lips, his gaze drifting to watch my lips rock against his. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not with those noises coming out of my lips.

“Say please baby…” he moaned out desperately against my chest, nipping it in the process, “say please…and I’ll give you everything…”

I mewled against his neck, my forehead pressed against his shoulder for support.

“P-please Shuji, cum in me…fill me up please…” I gasped as his thumb returned to my clit and started rubbing it quickly, “m-make it trickle d-down my thigh, baby…” I rolled my hips harder, clenching around him with need, “make my birth control work overtime, please, baby…”

A low, guttural moan of ‘yes’ escaped his lips in a barely audible whisper. His breaths turned into heavy gasps as he was still fighting his own release.

He reached up to cup my cheek in his large tattooed hand, tilting my head towards him to capture my lips into a greedy, messy kiss, practically pouring every ounce of passion and energy into it. He broke the kiss only to bite down on my bottom lip, his hips still moving up to meet mine in a more intense thrust.

I moaned into his mouth as he pulled me in, I neared another shuddering orgasm.

“Cum for me, Shuji, please baby…”

He moaned as heated, breathless gasps left his parted, kiss-swollen lips. He continued rocking his hips into mine, his cock bullying its way into me with each movement.

“B-baby…I’m close…” he murmured as he captured my lips with his again, “tell me…say please…I need to hear…you beg for me…”

I cried out, feeling my climax nearly there.

“Shuji please, b-baby, need your cum…need it please, give it to me, give me what I need baby please-”

He moaned against my lips, the hot breath bathing my sensitive lips and nearly breaking me. My mewling and begging nearly drove him wild, he was a desperate mess, his body pleading for release.

“Beg me…more…please,” he moaned through his teeth, “be…be a good girl for me…”

I whimpered and a sob escaped my throat into his shoulder where I was barely holding on. His cock was still working its pace, rutting into me even when I slowed down my hip movements.

“I’ve been g-good for you, baby, haven’t I? Please, baby, please, please, I need it…please, Shuji, fuck please, I’ll do anything…”

A guttural moan of pleasure ripped itself from his parted lips, his breath heavier against my skin.

“Yes…” he moaned out in hot gasps, his voice thick and raspy, “you have…so good for me…my good girl..”

I couldn’t hold myself back any longer, I cried out his name, along with a few curses, into his neck, shuddering and releasing another orgasm, clamping down on his thrusting cock. Squeezing and not letting go of him until I got every last drop of what he had to offer.

His breathing turned into deep moans as he rutted into me and finally spilled his cum all over my wet walls, shuddering in ecstasy, slowing down to help us ride out our highs together.

“Baby…” he all but groaned out, the soft nickname on his lips like a prayer, “good girl…you’re such a good girl…” he moaned into my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone.

“Love…love you so much…love you Shuji, so much.”

His breath gradually evened out as he came down from his high. He pulled back to look into my eyes, his expression nothing less than utterly mesmerised and enamoured with me in his arms.

“Love you…more…” he murmured softly, his gaze practically glowing gold as it burned into mine, “so glad you’re mine…”

I attached my lips to his in a deep expression of the intense love I held for him.

“We’re not playing that game today, baby,” I stroked his hair gently, “you’re so good to me.”

He moaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into the touch of his head.

“Mmm, and you’re an angel…” he muttered under his breath, his face glowing in bliss as he pulled away slightly, “my favourite person in the entire world…”

I chuckled and shook my head lightly at this weirdo.

“It helps that you don’t like other people, but okay, I’ll take it.”

He rolled his eyes at my response, at the same time a smirk spread across his lips.

“Fair enough…” he paused for a moment, the smirk softening into an affectionate smile, “you really are my person, though.” He muttered in a soft tone, his gaze gentle and loving. “You’re my world…”

I caressed his cheek, smiling warmly at him.

“You’re such a damn sap. You’re lucky I would never go around and tell people.”

“Oh am I, huh?” He mused as he leaned into my hand, “You’re lucky I’m only this way with you, doll face. My reputation would be in ruins otherwise…”

“Big bad wolf, God of Death, Shuji Hanma, a big ol’ sappy pile of moans and shivers under a kiss of one girl, and one girl only.”

He sighed, shaking his head in amusement as he rolled his eyes.

“You make me sound so…needy and desperate. But maybe I am…I’m lost in you, completely.”

His hand moved up and gently gripped my thigh as he kissed me, gently, slowly. His thumb was tracing soft patterns along my flushed skin, his kiss as warm and tender as a summer evening.

I sighed against his lips when he broke the kiss, lips still in a light pout, not even an inch from mine and head tilted to the side.

“Take us to bed, baby?”

He gently picked me up and began making his way to the bedroom, pressing soft kisses against my neck and shoulders as he went. My feet were dangling along his sides and he held me tight. When he dropped me onto the bed, he crawled in after me and covered us with the duvet, snuggling into me, burying his face into my neck and breathing in my scent as if it was a drug he could only get from me.

His embrace tightened ever so slightly as if he was afraid he’d lose me if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 5 months

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Did you know that if you were away for a couple weekends one month, even though your trash isn’t as full as it would normally be, it will still get as stinky? Apparently I forgot about that fact. Trash still gets old even though your brain registers the days away from your place as different time. Object permanence exists and it is stinky

#emma posts #this is an adhd post #I took out every trash bag. the main and the side ones. and added an air freshener #it smells so much better #I just wish I had better circulation in this o #place because the corner with the couch never seems to get enough airflow #and it’s still stinky here #even though that time passed in a different location it still passed #woagh #object permanence is also very dusty #and makes plants angry when you are in the hospital for too many days #it also dries up paint pallets even if you cover them!#my cactus was acting like it had never seen the sun in months #you went a few days without the grow lights you little bitch! You didn’t have to stay in the hospital for a week! stop reaching for the #window that dramatically like a fucking 90 degree angle #it’s back to normal now but still #my orchid just fucking died though #I give my cat all the attention and my plants don’t like it #sorry I care more about him and that one African violet that has gone through everything with me and been fine #now I’m getting distracted by my plants #anyway. time exists everywhere at the same time and it’s very inconvenient :/#moment I cleaned up the litter box my cat had to pee in it so I guess he’s happy #he was using it before but he had to make sure everyone knew after the litter change #I was cleaning it but hadn’t changed up the litter yet because I had to buy some at the fucking grocery store #same with the trash bags #now i need to clean some of the less stinky things that i just find more tedious and I’m doing them tomorrow #ugh. why do things get dirty when you use them? it’s very inconvenient #and the FUCKING water in this place is like cave water and it makes me so mad #sure. the last place I lived had arsenic in the non-drinking water including the cleaning water #it leaves a layer of mineral behind like it’s trying to make a stalactite

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unfortunatelyilikebnha · 3 months

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Guess who just checked all 76 aranara locations in one sitting 🥰 <- do not do this

#genshin impact #I started probably some time around 8 or 9 pm I think and ended at like 3:45 #so it took like 6 & 1/2 hours as a conservative estimate #tbf i did get distracted by chests and commissions I found along the way #thank GOD for teyvat interactive map otherwise I NEVER would’ve found some of these guys #(and video tutorials thank you video tutorials!!)#doing this in one sitting made me crazier than I already was I think #bc I started the quest before I technically knows abt the interactive map so I didn’t know which aranaras I’d already found #so I had to check every. single. location. even though I’d already found some #also THE LAST ONE??? is LOCKED BEHIND A DIFFERENT QUEST???#so between that and the fact that it’s in a CONFUSING ASS CAVE it took me like an hour and a half to get that guy #which was really fun (/sar) since he was The Last One I Needed. haha.#anywaysssssssss I think when I have to do this on my alt account I think it may break me </3 #on the bright side I got all those chests #and now I know for sure I’ve done all of the towers w/ the nascent withering zones #and all the plant prison ruin machines #oh! and bc I finished the rest of the aranara quests in the aranyaka a couple days ago #I think I’m actually done with every single aranara quest on main #THANK GOD

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pucksandpower · 19 days

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A Crime Against Fashion

Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader

Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants

You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.

But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.

As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.

“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.

You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”

He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”

“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”

Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”

You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.

With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.

“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”

Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”

You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”

That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.

“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.

You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.

“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.

“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.

Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”

His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”

Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.

He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”

You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”

With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.

“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.

Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”

Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”

Oops. Think fast.

“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”

You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”

For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.

“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”

Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”

To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."

You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.

Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.

“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”

Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.

As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.

“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”

You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.

“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”

Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.

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lovebugism · 4 months

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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy

a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch.

Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar.

Speaking of sweet…

His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.

Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.

He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.

“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.

Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”

“Did you sleep good?”

“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”

“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”

Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”

Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”

“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”

He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”

“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”

“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.

“Get out of the kitchen!”

“What’d I do?”

“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”

“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”

You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.

The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”

Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”

Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”

“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”

“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.

“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”

Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.

“You’re welcome…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.

“It’s different!”

The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”

“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.

“Eddie,” you scold quietly.

The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.

“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”

Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now.

“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”

“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”

You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.

The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.

“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.

You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”

“Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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emmyrosee · 3 months

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hiya emmyy

i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )

thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)

hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3

-sky :)

SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.

He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.

SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.

I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight

dummy 🙄 why do you care?

SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??

Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot

He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.

“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.

He scoffs, “and?”

He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”

Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”

He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”

“I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.

“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”

This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”

You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”

He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-

And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.

He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”

You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are, Kuna.”

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abbyromanoff · 6 months

Note

I have come to request something.

Remember when we talked about Tattoo Artist! Nat. I want that. Daddy kink, breeding, and just have fun. Add whatever you want to it. Obviously, Dom!Nat.

DESIGNS

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 628

WARNINGS: smut, strap on usage, threesome, making out, hint of manipulation, innocent!R, virginity loss, Mommy (N), breeding, shy!Wanda, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“How- how is this supposed to help exactly?” The tip of her cock teased your hole, a smirk planted on her face as she guided you to grind against her length. Her partner, Wanda, was sitting shyly next to the two of you, the ink gun in her hand. She looked down, trying to avoid all possible eye contact with either of you. Nat had always been derogatory, but this was a new level. Not once had she ever led someone to rest on her pulsing erection, and Wanda assumed someone would never agree to the request. Nat was attractive, sure, but she didn’t expect anyone to be as naive as you.

“It’s just going to distract you from the pain, sweetheart. We don’t want to hurt you, right, Wanda?” She nodded, giving you a hesitantly warm smile as you gulped nervously.

“Uhm, I’ve never-“ You cut yourself off, fears rising as you nearly admitted your pureness.

“Oh, baby, will I be your first?” You shook your head, yes, sniffling as your hips jutted lower, causing her cock to ease into your hole slowly. The tip was embraced with your warmth, and she moaned lowly at the contact.

“Well, I’m so honored. Why don’t you place your hands on my shoulders and let Wanda work, okay?” You did as told, your gaze falling to her breasts that were hidden by a sports bra and a loose tank top. She smiled, grasping your chin and leading you in for a long, passionate kiss. Wanda placed the pen against your lower back, following the sketch as you hissed in pain. But it wasn’t from the buzzing object, it was from the painful ache in your core as Nat stretched you out.

“Don’t worry, the pain will go away soon, little one.” She squeezed your lower cheeks, teasing her thumb near your tightest hole and causing you to bite your lip.

“No bitting, Mommy wants to kiss those sweet lips.” She groaned as her mouth collided with yours once again, her tongue making an appearance against yours.

“Mm, why don’t you give my partner here a little peck, hm? I bet she’s just dying to touch you.” The pen came to a stop for a quick moment, her hooded glances now being returned by you. You let her lean close, chuckling at the nervous glances she sent towards Nat.

“It’s okay, it’s just a little kiss.” The two of you whimpered as you came in contact, and her free hand grasped your thigh suddenly. She massaged the skin and caused you to rock your hips further, bringing Nat’s length to your g-spot that cried for attention.

“Mommy!” You screamed against Wanda’s lips, and she couldn’t help the fingers that trailed to your aching clit. Your hands groped your breasts until Nat guided them away, leading you to lower her top and suck on her hardened nipples. Wanda now lacked your lips, and she could’ve cried out because of it.

“Nat, you aren’t being fair.”

“Shh, get back to work and let me play with this one, I’m having too much fun with them.”

You weren’t given a warning when the buzzing stopped, nor were you informed when her drops of cum filled your cunt. You gasped in shock, placing your hand on your stomach and feeling the area. Your womb was now painted with her liquid, and your release coated her cock deliciously. She smirked, patting your back and letting you stand, which you failed to do easily. Wanda gave you one last glance before returning to the back.

“So, if you ever need another tattoo, call me.” She handed you a note with her number scribbled on it. “I’ll even give you a discount for being such a good customer.”

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hushedlover · 5 months

Note

Can i request a Mike Schmidt who actually got good sleep but his baby sitter/new found crush looks like she was hit by a train and he’s like “just sleep here” and his own thoughts come in with “take my bed.” (Which she tries to deny)

The sound of the front door closing and keys landing in the dish on the foyer table woke you up. You peeked your head over the back of the couch to look at Mike. He’s peeling the security vest off but for the first time ever he looks like he’s slept a full night.

“Hey. Abby still sleeping?” He calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Too early for her to be up,” you call back. Something in your voice sets off alarms for Mike. He glances back at you and sees you staring off into space, unfocused eyes blankly settled on the back of the couch. There are deep bags under your eyes and your hair is a hot mess, looking like you’d been tugging at it all night.

“You okay?” He calls tentatively. That gains your attention. Your eyes snap up and focus on his face. Immediately you send him an unconvincing smile as you stand from the couch. You begin gathering your things, keys and bag, while heading for your shoes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just- just tired. You seem well rested though,” the smile you shoot him this time is genuine, a softer version of your usual one. “I’m glad. You need the sleep.”

You drop your keys as you’re getting your shoes on, cursing and bending to grab them. Some part of the action through you off balance, and the next thing you know your butt is firmly planted on the hard wood floor. A dull pulsing pain emanates from the point of contact with the surface and you drown, looking down at the floor accusingly.

“Okay, come here,” Mike grunts as he slides his hands under your armpits. With a quiet groan from both of you, he hoists you to your feet. You stumble and regain your balance before looking up at Mike.

“Thanks,” you mutter as heat floods your cheeks.

“No problem,” he says, his brows furrowed slightly. You go to reach for your keys that are seated in his hand, but Mike pulls them back. “Listen, you’re exhausted. I don’t really want you driving home right now. Why don’t you sleep here?”

More heat rises in your face and you shift on your feet nervously. His face is close, almost too close to yours, his brown eyes demanding your focus and attention. His light scruff is distracting, so are his lips, and you almost get lost in them before remembering to respond.

“Oh no, Mike. I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t want to intrude, plus I’m sure Abby will want to watch TV and I don’t want to take over your couch,” You stutter and trip over your words as you try to rush them out.

“What do you-? Oh! No, no I meant like,” you swear you can see red tint his cheeks as his eyes dart away from yours for a second. “I meant sleep in my bed.”

Both of you go silent and stare at each other with wide eyes for a second. You distantly wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Or maybe see your pulse jumping in your neck. Suddenly, Mike snaps out of the stupor.

“Not like that! I mean- No, I um, I mean I’m not gonna be using it since I’ll be up and I just washed my sheets and stuff so-“

You choose to save him from his own suffering.

“I would actually really appreciate that.” Just on cue, you yawn softly. “I think I’d be a hazard on the road and I don’t want that to be on your conscious.”

You send him a sheepish smile, hoping he detects the humor in your tone. He must, because his face lights up in a grin. You squeak in surprise when Mike suddenly squats in front of you, gently grabbing your foot and slipping off the one shoe you managed to get on. He stands and helps you shrug off your jacket.

You distantly register the sound of your keys crashing into the tray as Mike leads you down the hall and towards his room. His hand on your elbow is a warm comfort as he guides you to sit on the mattress. He tugs the blanket loose and gently pushes you down. You blink up at him sleepily as he pulls the blanket up to your chin.

“Stay as long as you need. Really. You do so much for us. Just… rest. Yeah?” He smiles down at you and right now you could swear he’s an angel. You feel your lips quirk up out of reflex and your hand reaches up, but you stop yourself before you can brush his cheek.

“Thanks,” you whisper softly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open now. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, everything smells like Mike and it’s making you delirious. It’s a weird comfort, like Mike is actually holding you in his arms. The smell gets stronger and you want to open your heavy eyes to see why, but the feel of slightly chapped lips against your forehead tells you why.

That’s the last thing you register before sleep drags you into its clutches.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #micheal schmidt #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schmidt x fem!reader smut

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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months

Text

Motivation

(Part 2)

—

Time Written- 10:23 p.m.

I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up

—

“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.

A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.

A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.

Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.

“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”

“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.

“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”

Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.

The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.

Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.

“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.

“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.

“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.

He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.

“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.

“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.

He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”

Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.

Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.

“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”

Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.

“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”

The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.

“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”

“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.

The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.

He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.

“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.

“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”

You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.

The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.

Your boy, his boy. His son.

“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.

He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.

“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.

“I love you.”

Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.

The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.

“Love you too, mama.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc Jason Todd #jason todd dc #jason todd x female!reader

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xrstuve · 3 months

Text

SWEET TREATS | abby anderson x fem! reader !

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

🪷 | little drabble of abby!! pure pure fluff <33 click here for pt2!!

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

“abby, stop!!” you laugh, peeling her arms off you, trying to get back to baking the cake. you look at her, eyebrows furrowed but a small smile still present on your face. “stop eating my icing!! i won’t have enough for our cake!”

abby just chuckles and shakes her head as she looks back at you, a coy smile on her face, raising a brow at you. “as if i’m the only one who’s enjoying it!” she gets closer to you, one arm wrapping around your waist in attempt of pulling you closer to her, as the other one cups your chin, raising your face up at her. your eyes widen as you look at her, feeling your face heat up at the sudden action.

“look at you” she whispers as she gazes at your face, some icing still placed on your cheek. abby smirks as she raises her thumb up to your face, rubbing off the excess icing as she lets go off you and brings her thumb to her mouth, licking the leftover icing as she sends you a sly smirk.

your cheeks flush at her act as you tear your gaze away from her, trying to continue baking your cake but it seemed almost impossible with her in the same room. she always found a way to distract you from whatever you were doing, wanting nothing but your full blown attention. you let out a small huff, not sparing a glance at her as you continue mixing the batter.

“who’s the cook here, hmm? only i can try it until it’s finished. then maybe i’ll be ever so kind to let you try it.” abby chuckles as she gets closer to you, wrapping her buff arms around your waist from behind while she places her head on the crook of your neck. “what the wife says goes.” she says, placing small kisses on the side of your neck all the way up to your ear, making your eyes flutter shut, humming in satisfaction. you could feel her smile against your ear, her hair tickling your neck as you shiver from the closeness. “though i bet it won’t be as sweet as you.”

your eyes widen and you could feel your ears getting hot, feeling instantly embarrassed at what she just said. “abby! will you stop that!” abby just chuckles at your reaction and backs off you, leaning against the counter to get a better look at you. you stare back at her, cheeks rosy and brows furrowed, a small frown plastered on your face, though she could tell that you were keeping a smile from her.

she raises her arms up in self defense, “okay okay! i’ll stop i promise.” she chuckles, finally deciding to stop teasing you, though she couldn’t help herself at the sight of you. you send her an unconvinced look, brows raised. she shakes her head and looks down at you, grabbing your hand from the counter and raising it up to her lips, leaving a soft kiss as she pulls away, sending you a smile. “i promise.”

you shake your hand off her, not trusting a word she said, as you went back to mixing the eggs into the batter. “hmph, fine.” abby’s smile widens as she lets out a satisfied hum.

“thank you baby, you’re the best” she says, planting a kiss to your cheek as you roll your eyes, a small smile spreading on your face. “yeah yeah, now come here and help me with the icing.”

“yes ma’am” she obeys and goes around the kitchen counter, taking the small bowl that contained the pink icing into her hands. she stares at it for a bit as you look over at her questionably, wondering what she planned on doing. in less of a blink of an eye, you catch her swiping her finger across the bowl, getting a small amount of icing as she throws it at you playfully, some of it landing on your apron and on your face.

you stare at her with your mouth agape, slowly taking in the mess she just made. abby bursts into laughter as she hurriedly tries to run away from you, knowing that you were going to scold her.

“abigail anderson!! get back here!!”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

hi hi hi!! sorry for the inactivity!! i’ve been so so busy with exams lately that i’ve barely had any time to write 😭 so sorry that this drabble’s so short!! once i finally finish with school stuff, i’ll be writing way more :)) happy late valentine’s day!! 💗 hope y’all have a wonderful week <3

#abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby the last of us #cybella’s thoughts⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡#wlw #lesbian

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bruisedboys · 6 months

Note

reader and peeta showering together after a hard day (just some innocent intimacy nothing suggestive) 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 love this man sm 😭🤞🏻🤞🏻

!!!!!! thank you for the req angel <3 this inspired me so so much! thanks for kickstarting my writing for peeta era hehe

peeta mellark x fem!reader 16+ please for non-sexual nudity. not really in universe but can read as post mockingjay if you want it to!

Peeta’s sketching on the bed when you come inside. One knee propped up with his back against the wall behind the bed, his sketchbook pressed against his thigh. His golden hair falls over his forehead, messy where he’s been too distracted by his drawing to push it back.

He looks up when you enter, smiling a bruising smile you don’t feel deserving of.

“Hey. Hey, sweetheart.” It’s alarming how quickly he sets aside his book and pencil to reach for you, as if he hadn’t been immersed in his sketching mere seconds ago. “C’mere, I missed you.”

As much as you’d like to be wrapped in his strong arms right now, you’re filthy, and he’s just changed the sheets earlier today.

“I can’t. I’m all dirty, see?” You wiggle your dirt-covered hands at him. You’ve been in the garden all afternoon. Time drifted away from you as you planted a new batch of tomato seeds. By the time you were done, the sun was setting and you hadn’t even realised. Your knees are stained dark brown and you’ve got dirt up to your elbows. “I’ll shower first, then we can cuddle. Sorry, baby.”

Peeta looks decidedly put out. You turn away from him before he can convince you any further, because you know if he looks at you like that for much longer you’ll give in. You pull fresh clothes from your side of the dresser and then move down the hallway to the bathroom.

The showers warming up and you’re starting to undress when Peeta knocks on the door. It’s unlocked, and he doesn’t have to, but he knocks anyway.

“It’s me,” he says. Who else would it be? You think. Silly man. “Can I come in?”

You pull the door open for him instead of answering. You’re halfway out of your clothes but it doesn’t phase him. Sure, he looks, but not for long, and not in a way that would suggest anything other than affection.

“Hey,” he says. He pushes the door closed behind him. The shower runs in the background, a peaceful thrum. “Do you mind if I join you? You can say no.”

You huff a soft laugh. He should know by now that saying no to him is a near impossible feat. “Yeah, of course. I don’t mind.”

You finish undressing quickly, eager to be clean and warm. Peeta leaves to get fresh towels while you hop in under the hot spray. The majority of the dirt on your skin has been rinsed by the time he gets back. You hear him moving around the bathroom for a minute or so before he pulls the shower curtain aside. You let him in, moving aside to make space for him. It’s tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Weirdly, it’s almost a perfect fit for the two of you.

Peeta moves under the shower head and the water quickly drenches one half of his hair and one of his shoulders. His big hand slides over your hip and he carefully moves you into a position where you’ve both got equal spray.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s so close you could count his freckles, each light brown spot scattered across his collarbones.

“Hello,” you say back. His thumb rubs your hipbone, up down, up down. “Is it too warm?”

“No, it’s perfect.”

You smile and touch your palm to his cheek. “You okay?” You’re not asking because he seems out of sorts. You’re asking because you want to know, and if he’s not he’ll tell you. He does the same for you. It’s just how you love each other.

Peeta nods. “Yeah, I’m okay. How did your gardening go?”

You beam. You love that he cares about what you care about. “Good. We’ll have tomatoes growing out of our ears by summer, I think.”

Peeta laughs. It’s a brilliant sound that bounces off the shower walls and warms your chest. “Awesome,” he grins. Then, “Hey, you’ve got dirt under your ear.” He reaches behind you to grab the flannel hanging on the shower caddy. “Look that way for me?”

He holds you still with a hand at your jaw and rubs the dirt from your skin so gently you barely feel it. His touch is like a magnet — you’re drawn to it over and over again, no matter how generously he gives it to you. When he asks if he can wash your hair, you’d be crazy if you said no.

“Yeah, please,” you tell him, past caring how desperate and needing of his touch and love you are. He knows, anyway.

Peeta turns you by the hips so your back is to him, then gently tilts your head backwards. You hand him your shampoo and he squeezes a dollop onto his hands, rubbing his palms together before spreading the bubbles over the top of your head. He’s very, very gentle with it, much more than you’ve ever been, massaging the soapy, sweet-smelling bubbles into your hair, fingers rubbing circles onto your scalp. His dedicated touch, along with the gentle thrum and warmth of the shower spray, is enough to almost put you to sleep.

“Okay, you can rise now,” Peeta speaks up. His tone is soft and you suspect he’s noticed your sleepiness. He gets very soft with you when you’re tired. “Shut your eyes, please.”

You do as he says and he directs you under the spray. He holds a hand over your forehead like a barrier so the bubbles can’t escape and sneak into your closed eyes. The action in itself makes your chest ache. He cares more than you could ever comprehend.

When he’s done rinsing you finish scrubbing the dirt from your knees, your elbows. Peeta washes his own hair, and you help him rinse the same way he did for you.

“Thank you, angel,” he says. Warm water and soapy bubbles stream over his shoulders, his neck. His eyelashes are wet, clinging to each other in sparkly triangles. He dips down and kisses your shoulder, then your cheek. “Love you.”

You beam. You love him more than anything. You get on your toes to kiss him properly, a warm press of your mouth on his, a promise for more of the same later, when you’re clean and dry and fed. “Love you too, Peeta.”

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

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justhereforthemeta · 9 months

Text

Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight

Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)

This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!

On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.

@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.

Continued below the cut...

Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.

Shax: “You’re in trouble”

A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”

Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.

And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.

There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.

1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).

Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:

Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:

And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.

There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball.

Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.

Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.

For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.

So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.

Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.

But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.

Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché.

Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery.

And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.

In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.

My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:

is actually this:

Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967:

whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:

…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:

That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once.

Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat.

Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).

Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.

Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution.

Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.

‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!?

I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.

(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)

When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.

From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.

This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.

In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.

Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save.

“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”

#so honestly #I think the biggest mark against this conclusion is that Crowley sees his mirror Maggie taking a nap at the end of S2E6 #there is a strong chance of a depression nap before any further spying gets underway #but I am counting on Muriel to be a dorky ray of sunshine and snap him out of it with Clues #good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley in a turtleneck #demon bookseller plantdad spy

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foli-vora · 1 year

Text

radio static

pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this gif is a fucking mess but i refuse to fight with photoshop any longer otherwise i will literally throw my computer out of the fucking window. anyway. ep 1 got me all kinds of fucked up. enjoy some porn with very minimal plot.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: very brief mention of something happening but no details and no spoilers. swearing, domestic softness, couples banter, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, brief handjob, nipple biting, creampie

It’s a hazy roll of pleasure, the bliss swimming through your bloodstream and stretching out along your limbs in waves upon waves of static heat.

He’s taking you nowhere fast, instead choosing to take his time, bouncing between leisurely working at your clit with firm, wide strokes of his tongue and dipping lower to force the muscle into your cunt and taste you deeper.

The threat of the climb lingers in the pit of your stomach, curdling low in your core and twisting further with every slick hot swipe and circle over your swollen clit. He’s doing it on purpose, dragging out your pleasure and intent on making you beg for it.

Soon—the words are already building in your throat.

A small part of you, the very small part of your mind that stays aware of what’s going on beyond Joel’s mouth, picks up on the sudden halt to the soft music that had been falling from the speaker next to your head, but it’s not enough to pry your attention away completely, not until the words destruction and mass incident suddenly break through the fog of lazy ecstasy hanging over your mind.

Would that explain the increase of emergency vehicles you’d seen on the roads lately? Is something happening? The reporter didn’t seem to be too panicked, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. It was their job to keep the calm forced into their voices. Mass incident? Destruction? What could it all mean? Were you all in danger?

“Can you turn that up?” You ask quietly, now distracted from the lips that break away from your cunt and press along the heated skin of your thigh. “The news—”

“Jesus,” Joel mutters against you before pulling away and looking up at you, “I’m out here with my head between your thighs, and you’re listenin’ to the fuckin’ news? You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, honey?”

“No, it just sounds important is all. Just for a minute, baby—please?”

He huffs quietly against you.

Chuckling softly, you jerk away from the blunt edges of teeth that gently dig into your flesh with a startled cry and swat at him. His tell tale smile curls against your skin before he lifts himself up with a low groan, bracing his arms on either side of your torso and reaching over to turn the dial on his alarm radio.

You ache at the loss of his mouth, your clit throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. The desperate clench of your core is almost enough to shove him back down there and forget the whole fucking thing.

He couldn’t seem to care less about what they were saying, returning to licking and nipping at your skin, planting kiss after kiss along your collarbone and trying very hard to pry your attention away from the story falling from the speaker.

He succeeds for the most part, your eyes fluttering when a hot mouth encloses over a nipple and sucks at the stiffened peak firmly, his large calloused hand wrapping around the other and squeezing the supple flesh greedily.

The news… focus. What was that about injuries? God, who cares—

“Joel,” you sigh softly, winding your fingers through his ruffled hair and tugging at the dark tresses, “I’m trying to listen—”

“And I was tryin’ t’have a nice meal, but someone had other plans—the goddamn news,” he rumbles in rough amusement, grinning against your tit before tracing his way to the other side. “You just let me know when you’re done and I’ll get right back to borin’ you.”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you groan, unable to keep the growing smile from tugging at your lips and back arching from the teeth that pluck at your nipple, your features briefly creasing from the shock of delicious pain. “Oh fu—again—”

He does. He nips and bites until you’re squirming under him, your hands clawing at his shoulders. His next bite is sharper than the last and enough to tear a whine from your throat from the harsh force of it. The sharp sting shoots straight to your core, the muscles of your cunt tightening as heat continues to curdle in the pit of your stomach.

A slick swipe of tongue soothes the leftover ache, the muscle winding round and round the abused bud and all thoughts of listening to the stupid news leave your mind.

Your fingers tighten in his hair and pull, tearing him away from your skin and diving forward to meld your mouth against his. It’s messy the instant his lips part, the kiss full of tongue and teeth with the taste of your cunt still lingering and now melting into your tastebuds.

“Careful,” he murmurs into your mouth, grinding the thick, hardened feel of his covered cock against your core, “don’t want to miss the weather report.”

“Dick,” you moan softly, feeling the soft cotton of his sweats dampen as they drag against your folds, “you know damn well you weren’t boring me.”

His chuckle is low, merely a rumble in his chest, but it sticks in his throat when you slip a hand beneath his waistband and wrap your fingers firmly around his hard cock, the thick length of it swelling in your hold. His hips jolt, briefly thrusting into your grip, and you’re the one chuckling now, your lips curled up against the brush of his facial hair.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

You tighten your hold, brushing the pad of your thumb over the weeping tip, smearing precum over his smooth skin before starting a steady pace up and down his length.

“Fuck—” his face crumbles, eyes slamming shut as the little dent between his brows deepens. “Move your hand out of the way, pretty girl, m-move—”

His fingers shake as they bat your hand out of the way, the long digits quickly wrapping around his cock and giving it one firm pump before lining up with your entrance and pushing forward. You hide your face in his shoulder, muffling your moan against his hot skin as his balls press tight against your ass.

“So fuckin’ warm,” he rasps into your throat, bracing himself on his elbows and encasing you into the mattress. “So—fuck, honey—”

He gives another thrust, pulling halfway out before rocking back forward, soon finding a steady rhythm that has you clutching at his back. The sounds falling your lips are caught on skin, the remaining sound of the muted cocktail of whines and groans dampened by the music now playing again.

“Joel, baby—” you breathe, running a hand along his throat and brushing a thumb over his lips as he works your body higher, his pubic bone rubbing and pushing against your aching clit with every upwards thrust, “—I love you.”

He physically shudders at your words, the cage of his arms hot and familiar. He nods, mouth hungry and messy as it tries to claim yours and you’re desperate to match his energy. The bed starts to give a creak with every steady plunge of his hips, and his hand flies up to clutch at the headboard, his biceps tensing with the effort he puts into silencing the bed.

“I—s-shit—I love you,” he pants, the hot breath of his sharp exhales washing over your mouth. “I’m not—I can’t—fuck, play with yourself, honey—p-please. Make yourself cum, show me—”

His thighs roll up beneath yours and soon he’s rising away from you to kneel, keeping a hand locked around the top of the headboard and using it as leverage to thrust up harder into your cunt. It’s takes every bit of energy to not fucking wail, one hand flying up to brace yourself and the other falling to where your clit throbs.

He watches, frown heavy and focused, as you press the pads of your fingertips to the swollen nerve, the muscles in your thighs twitching and tensing with the delicious attention.

It takes only a few circles of your deft fingers to send you over the long built up edge Joel had lazily built in your core, your face turning to hide in your outstretched arm to quieten your sounds of pure fucking bliss. He soon follows after you, urged on by the flutter and tightening of your hot walls around him.

The muscles along his jaw tighten with the effort he uses to keep quiet, his face creased and lost in his own waves of ecstasy as he fills you. Your cunt tightens around him one final time, the warmth of his cum soon seeping out from where his cock disappears into you.

He drops onto his back next to you, automatically raising his arm to welcome you into his side and you press into his body heat, pressing a wet kiss to his chest and trying to calm your breathing.

“Shit, were we too loud?”

You chuckle quietly, rest your chin over the hand splayed over his chest. “She sleeps like her daddy—she wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That you guys are heavy sleepers, and it’s a surprise your alarm clock actually wakes you most of the time,” you grin, the curl of it widening when he rolls his eyes.

The steady blink of his clock catches your eye and you soften, stretching to press a sweet kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling them twitch at your feather light touch. He sighs calmly under your affection, his dark eyes openly searching yours and warming when you catch him.

“Oh, would you look at that,” you murmur softly, “happy birthday, handsome.”

i was gonna start all diff tags but i really cbf right now. i’ve just used my everything pp one - if you’re not interested soz x

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @artsymaddie, @untitledarea, @sukunababe, @emiemiemiii, @your-slutty-gf, @wisecolornight

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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