#I'm sorry nonnie but I hope you still enjoyed it!

[emsdevs]

A Luke Hughes ask of his girlfriend going into labour and him telling his family he is a dad to a son

a/n: I'm so sorry for the wait nonnie! I hope you still like it! Also everyone please note: I have never been pregnant and therefore do not know the exact process of having a baby. If there are inaccuracies, please ignore them. Thanks and enjoy dad!Luke :)

Labor of Love

You swore you both would be prepared for this, and you definitely were. Luke, on the other, didn’t seem to be taking it as well. When you felt your water break, you called him into the room, telling him the situation.

“Oh god. Oh no. We have so much to do. Oh my god. Okay, you can get changed if you wanna, and I’ll get everything in the car,” he said, frantically moving around the room.

“Luke, baby, I can’t change my pants by myself,” you answered, significantly calmer.

“Right! Right, I knew that,” he plays it off, coming over to help you undress and redress. He moves you to the car where you get situated while he runs around grabbing everything you might need while at the hospital. 

After you arrived and got checked in, Luke called his family, letting them know you had gone into labor and were at the hospital. Next, he called yours. It was very early in the off-season and you went into labor a little bit early, so they would have to fly in from Michigan, unable to be there until two days later at the earliest. After many excited reactions, he was finally done with his round of phone calls, and he walked back into your room in just enough time for you to start laboring. Fourteen hours of blaming and yelling at Luke later, you had delivered your baby and were waiting to find out the gender. You both had agreed since it was your first child, you wanted to wait to find out the gender until the baby was born. Soon, your baby was in your arms and the midwife was telling you that you’d delivered a beautiful baby boy. The tears started flowing the moment he was placed in your arms, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Luke in the same state beside you. 

“You did so well, baby. Look what you brought us,” he was getting choked up staring at the perfect mix of you and him.

“He’s so perfect,” you move your finger so your son can grab it, “a baby boy.” Soon, the nurses were stealing him away to run all the tests needed, and you instructed Luke to never let your baby boy out of his sight. Eventually, your boys returned, and you all got some much-needed family time. Soon though, you and your son were in desperate need of sleep, so Luke took that time to go inform his family. When he walked through the doors to the waiting room, everyone stood up waiting for whatever news he had for them. 

“She’s doing good, and the baby was born at 3:17. He’s healthy and so perfect,” he sniffled at the end of his sentence, feeling the tears beginning to well up again.

“He?” Luke heard your mom ask.

“Yeah we had a baby boy,” he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was crying because of the pure joy he felt, his mother wrapping him in her arms while she shed her own tears. Distantly, he could hear Jack and his father having their own celebration before Jim went to call Quinn who couldn’t be there because of playoffs. Gently, Ellen pulled back before asking what name you two had decided on. You both had kept your picks for the names a secret, wanting to keep it to yourselves for as long as possible.

“Samuel Bennett,” he spoke softly.

“Samuel Bennett Hughes,” Ellen breathed, “He sounds perfect, Luke.”

“He is, Mom,” before Luke could start crying again, Jack brought him into a hug, telling him he knew he’d be a good father. His father was the last to hug him, being sure Luke knew how proud he and Ellen were. He let them be the ones to inform Quinn and your family, wanting to get back to his family.

When he got to the room, he took a moment to really take in you and Samuel. You were the love of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see where this road takes you both. He couldn’t wait to spend more time with Samuel and get to know the little boy that you two, mainly you, brought into this world. He was so incredibly thankful to be able to have this moment. You two have been through a lot since getting together in high school. You even stuck with him after he got drafted, choosing to transfer to a school in New Jersey to be closer to him. He’s always had your unwavering support, and he hopes you know he’ll always have your back as well. Right now though, he’s sure both of you will be the co-founders of Samuel’s fan club. No matter what happened or where life leads the two of you, he knows he has you and Samuel, and that’s enough for him.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude

join the taglist

[multifandomsimagine]

Imagine being Ty Ridgemount's favorite person to film

——— Requested by anonymous  ———

With his camera in hand, Ty stood on the Office's shore, watching as everyone was doing their own thing in the Office. Though he would usually be right alongside them to catch some waves of his own, Ty had decided to stay back and capture some surfing on film. It had been a while since he recorded something and with how great of a day it was, it was a great time to get some footage.

Raising his camera to his face, he looked at the screen as he surveyed the scene before him. Broseph seemed to be continuing his lessons with Emma as the two sat on their board, swaying with the waves. Moving his arms through the air as he tried explaining something, Emma watched Broseph closely, trying to take in everything he said. Fin and Reef were competing with each other if their shouting were any indication while Johnny was doing his own thing, making sure to stay out of the way of the blonde and the redhead. But much like always, Ty's attention was drawn to you.

Focusing the camera on your form, he watched as you made your way to the wave. As the slope started to come down, you move upwards and pulled off an air, your board leaving the wave. Bending down, you gripped your board as you flipped yourself forward, pulling off a rodeo flip before successfully landing back on the water without crashing.

Ty grinned as he watched you take a seat on your board, pushing your wet hair away from your face. Despite landing a complex move, you made no scene or tried calling attention to what you accomplished and it was one of the things that he loved about your surfing. You didn't surf for the acclaim or the praise. He was sure that if you competed professionally, you could easily become one of the top surfers in the world but you had declined the offer whenever someone brought it up. You surfed to feel free and close to the water and it was his favorite thing to capture. No matter how many surfers he could film, his focus and camera would always come back to you and he wouldn't change a thing about it.

[okmcintyre]

Why in your polls do you never include season 7? I get it, you may not like it, but your polls are inaccurate without it. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean others can't. Give it a chance to be voted on like the rest.

Great question nonny! (And a fair one to ask, I'm pretty consistent LOL 😅)

For some of the polls, like the 'best #X episode' they're related to this year's rewatch: which is planned to run to 6x13. So it makes sense for those to omit anything after that.

But honestly: 9/10 times it's just because I don't like talking about that season 🤷‍♀️

I'm always down for a sidebar discussion on how brilliant 7x02 was (The Garden 😭), or how John and Emori were MADE for their leadership roles on Sanctum and I wanted years more of that on screen✨. I really enjoyed Dev's scenes and Echope's dynamic and giving Gabriel a found family... but the rest of the season? Watching live was a really unpleasant experience for me, and I don't get a lot of joy from rehashing it.

There could be S7 polls eventually? And I'll happily participate in other blogs' should they pop up on my feed ☺️ But you likely won't find a lot of that season's content on my page.

It bums me out, and I prefer to celebrate the parts of the show I really enjoyed watching

[uzurakis]

hii! could you please do like after a really big argument it like gets to the point that the reader wants to break up with then and how they would handle it? i just request that choso is one of them<3

WANT US TO BREAK UP, YOU SAY?

featuring: choso kamo. gojo satoru. nanami kento. fushiguro megumi.

n. hi nonnie! thanku for the req. i usually don't write for choso, this is the first time i'm writing for him, i hope it doesn't stray out of his character. confession: i didnt proofread so.. enjoy </3

GOJO SATORU

the room was heavy with silence after your heated argument. you stood near the desk, arms crossed, emotions swirling. as for him, gojo leaned against the wall, his sunglasses off, revealing eyes that bore into you with a mix of frustration.

"this isn't working, satoru," you fidgeted your nails and shifted your feet. "i think we should break up."

he pushed off the wall, taking a step closer to you. "hell no," he said firmly, those blue eyes you know so well never leaving yours. "i'm not letting that happen."

you clenched your fists, anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. "you can't just decide that for me. we’ve been fighting constantly, and it’s exhausting.”

the man crossed the room in a few quick strides, stopping just in front of you. "we're not breaking up," he repeated, voice low and steady. "you're upset, i'm mad, and we had a fight, but that doesn't mean we break up."

tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze. "you don't get it, satoru. i can't keep doing this.”

he reached out, his hand gently but firmly grasping your wrist. "you’re not leaving," he said, his tone softening but still commanding. "we can fix this. together."

you tried to pull away, but his grip held you in place. "toru, this isn't just about one fight.” then his grip changed into him interlocking his fingers with you. ���we keep hurting each other…”

his expression softened, but his grip remained steady. "i know, and i'm sorry, darling. but running away won't solve anything. i love you, and i'm willing to fight for us."

NANAMI KENTO

nanami’s expression remained calm, but you could see the tension in his eyes. he took a deep breath and walked over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. “please, sit down,” he said softly, gesturing to the couch. “we need to talk about this calmly.”

you hesitated, still seething with emotion, but his gentle tone made you relent. you sat down, crossing your arms defensively. nanami sat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to show he was there for you.

“why do you want to break up?” he asked, his voice steady and soothing.

“like i said,” stating once again. unlike his, your voice cracked. “i feel like we don't have time for each other, not like we used to.”

he nodded, listening intently. “i understand,” he said, his tone even. “but breaking up isn’t the solution, sweetheart. we need to address it.”

nanami reached out, taking your hand in his. his touch was warm and reassuring. “every relationship has its challenges,” he said gently. “what matters is how we handle them. i believe we can work through this if we’re both willing to try.”

CHOSO KAMO

his eyes widened in shock, and before you could react, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you. his embrace was firm yet gentle, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart. “please, don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. “you can’t just say that, baby.”

you struggled against his hold, tears streaming down your face. “choso, don’t hold me back..”

he held you tighter, saying soothing words despite the urgency. “i know it’s been hard for both of us, but never say that, i don't want to hear you say that again.”

feeling the warmth and genuineness of his embrace, you drew in a shaky breath and found yourself losing resolve. “i just, i don’t know what to do with us.” your voice breaking.

choso loosened his hold just enough to meet your gaze, his love and concern visible in his eyes. “every relationship has its struggles, but i'm sure we both can overcome them. i love you, and i’m committed to working through this with you. so please, i dont want to give up on us yet."

he gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. “i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. are you?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

your boyfriend’s shocked eyes became wider. “what? no!” he took a step forward, expressing a mix of disbelief and urgency. “that’s not how you solve this problem.”

with a hand raked through his hair, he was clearly frustrated. "i understand that we've been fighting a lot, but splitting up isn't the answer. we have to discuss our concerns and work towards–”

“i’m fucking trying, okay?” you hurried to cut his explanation. “you always have a logical answer for everything,” biting your lower lip, is he seeing that you don't need reasoned answers? but simply, perhaps some reassurance? “but it doesn’t change how i feel. it hurts, and i don’t see a way out of this.”

megumi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “i’m sorry.”

“…”

“look, i need you to hear me,”

“i don’t want to fight either, heck, i’m too tired to argue,” he gently pulled you into an embrace. “but i don’t want to lose you. i can't promise you, but we can find a way to make this better."

"let’s be patient and work through our problems one step at a time.”

@uzurakis

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[churipu]

Ipinnn hear me out. Gojo sees his gf reader (who is stoic, a typical intj lol) saved his contact on her phone as "pretty boy". Note: reader never calls him any petname. Not even babe. Please your take on this😗😗 this thought has been plaguing my mind.

An intj char>> Wednesday Addams

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. nothing, happy reading :)

note. hi hi nonnie, i'm so so so so sorry for the late update on your ask. i know you had a follow up ask and told me that this isn't a request, but i really wanted to write one for gojo because, honestly, gojo, brainrot. yes. anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3

"baby, can i please borrow your phone? i need to ring nanami for a mission," gojo poked your cheek — a couple of times at that, his blindfold holding back his white locks like a bandana, "i forgot to charge mine last night, please please?"

you cocked your head to the side where your phone laid right by your thigh, "password's your birthday."

gojo almost choked on his own saliva at the sound of his own birthday being your phone's password. a small device that's somehow supposed to be your safe sanctuary. considering how you don't have the sweetest tongue, this was a big honor for him.

he dived right beside you, clicking his birthday into the password engine and like you said — it unlocked the phone. gojo spared you a glance, "'ts really my birthday? your password's my birthday?"

humming in agreement, you then felt his lips land on your cheek. grazing your skin gently, "i thought you knew?"

gojo shook his head, "i didn't, but now i do!"

the man respects your privacy like you respected his, and so like his earlier words — he placed the phone to his ear after clicking in various numbers. it took him a while to start speaking, specifically after the third try.

you just knew nanami was ignoring his calls.

gojo began scolding, supposedly nanami who was on the other line regarding his late actions in picking up the call (which was not a rare occurrence at all) — but dived back in the topic pretty quickly, mentioning a mission a couple of times along with the name of itadori yuuji, whom you vividly recognized as sukuna's vessel.

your boyfriend then ended the call after cheerfully marveling out a goodbye. and just then, like something dawned upon you, your eyes traveled to him, "can you help me send a message to you."

gojo raises his brow in apparent confusion, but he nodded anyways, "to me? about what? why don't you just say it to me now, baby? 'm right here, why do you have to send me a message?"

"because there are a lot of things i want to ask for the next time you go on a mission," you mutter.

he tapped on your phone screen a couple of times, eyebrows furrowing deeply, "baby, why aren't i in your messages? did you block me?" his heart dropped to his stomach when he showed you the phone screen.

you wondered why he never bothered on checking the various profile pictures that sat inside a small sphere right beside their respectable contact names — sighing, you grabbed your phone and showed him the screen again, "what do you mean? you're pinned, right there," you pointed your index finger towards the message at the very top.

gojo blinked his cerulean blue eyes vigorously, eyeing the contact. my pretty boy. with a red heart emoji he never saw you use along your messages to anyone, not even him.

but there his contact sat on the very top, with a nickname, and an emoji. his mouth formed a little 'o' and he looks at you, "you named me your pretty boy?" his voice came out delicate, as if he was still washed over in surprise.

nodding your head, gojo slipped himself into your embrace, leaning his head into the space in between your neck and shoulder blade. his soft breaths hitting your skin, "satoru?"

"'m so happy, i could die." he dramatically whispers, "i'm pinned, you gave me a nickname, and then a red heart emoji? baby, do you know how happy that makes me?"

he slightly pulls back from you, staring into your eyes as you slowly shake your head, wondering what has gotten into him this time.

"did you really think i'd name anyone else that when you're my boyfriend, 'toru?" you questioned him, poking his cheek, "you didn't even question about my pinned message too."

gojo leaned his forehead towards yours, "what can i say? it's not like you could cheat on someone like me, 'm too charming," he teases you with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, resulting in you scrunching it up slightly.

"whatever you say," you tell him, "what i was going to tell you is that — could you bring me back a lot of kikufuku next time? you ate everything last time and i didn't get any."

he chuckles, "anything for you, and yes you did get a lot."

"if one piece out of twelve is a lot, then i'm sorry for being dramatic," gojo laughs softly at the sight of how serious you looked while saying the said statement, "why're you laughing?"

he shook his head, "you're just too cute."

"can you send the message now so you won't forget the next time? and pin it, please. i really want them," gojo tangled his slender fingers in your hair, brushing them back.

"baby, i could get them for you right now, you know that?"

"i know, but you seemed very busy today so i could wait until you finish a mission," you mumbled, hand on his arm, rubbing them up and down his skin, "didn't want to bother you today."

gojo frowns a bit, "you're never a bother, say it. come on, say it."

you eye him oddly, "say what?"

"that you want me to go get you some kikufuku, three box, six box, ten, a hundred, you name me a number and i'll get them for you right now." he cooed — he brushed his lips against the side of your face, "come on, 'm waiting."

breaking a ghost of a smile, you nod, "i want them now, two box. one for you and one for me," raising up two fingers.

gojo nodded, "two box it is, pretty boy express coming through," he finally pecked your lips delightfully.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[gguk-n]

Hello!! I love your writing style!!

Can you pls do a max verstappen x reader but he’s still into Kelly max is sorry, reader disappeared goes to Korea gets together with jungkook plus now she’s a successful CEO n 2 yrs later she comes back as a baddie fans love her n max regrets

It’s set in 2021 comes back in 2024

P.s make her friends with Charles n Lewis

Thank you hope u take this in consideration

This ask was made in my dreams🥹🥹 thank you to the beautiful nonnie for sending this. I made this as an smau and some writing. I had so much fun making this!!!🫣🫣 hope you enjoy reading this too🥹🥹 changed the timeline a little bit for the story. Max is an ass, sorry. I love Max really but the story needed it

Drifting Into Love

Face Claim- Kim Hye yoon. (Every thing is fiction)

Max was back the next day. Y/N returned from Belgium and was waiting for Max in her apartment in Monaco. Max was one of the very few people who knew that Y/N came from wealth. Her parents had raised her humbly in hopes that the money won't get to her head and she would be a kind and compassionate human. Right now, she felt anything but kind. She felt like smashing Max to a pulp. How dare he lie to her and who does he think he is to humiliate her like this. If he loved her, he should've stayed with her, she thought.

Max stumbled into her house in a panic. "Schat, why are you here?" Max asked trying to hug her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean't why aren't you home?" he asked. She chuckled. "Max, I will not be in a cheater's house, god knows who all you've brought over." she said shaking her head. "I never brought anyone home. And as for Kelly this was a prior arrangement and I couldn't get out of it" he reasoned. "Then you should've told me. I would've come along. But you lied, you knew what you were doing is wrong, that's why you lied to me." she retaliated. "I, Y/N, schat....please" he stuttered. "You have nothing to say Max, also don't call me that. I'm not your girlfriend." she said. "Don't say that" Max said. "I don't care if you love Kelly, I just wish you hadn't lied to me." she lamented. "I'm sorry, I'll do better. I promise" he tried reasoning. "Max, you don't need to. You clearly still love her. I do not plan on being a home wrecker. I hope you both are happy" Y/N said. "Won't you fight for this? our relationship" he asked now in tears. "No, we stopped being a couple the moment you went back to her" she said with a stoic expression. "I'm sorry. You deserve better" Max said hoping she would stay. "I agree. Now can you leave, I have some work to do" she said ushering Max out.

Unbeknownst to Max, she had cried. The all of yesterday, really and Charles and Lewis were ready to kill Max. She some how convinced them not to. They had spent the whole night consoling her and taking care as she tried to mend her broken heart.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 23,976 others

y/n.y/l/n Don't forget to take out the trash🙏🙏

user17 What is going on?? Is this related to Max??😭😭 user18 She said, I ain't no one's second choice🫣🫣 user19 She's so pretty!! I wish I was her❤️❤️ charles_leclerc We can take it out for you👀 lewishamilton me and Charles are great at waste disposal. I can compost too🙂 user20 What does Lewis mean by that??They are scaring me🙃🙃 user21 I think she broke up with Max and obviously her best friends hate him, he cheated on their angel.😳😳 user22 I would also compost a man if he cheated on my bestie, I get it lewishamilton 😤😤

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 289,297 others

y/n.y/l/n Gonna miss my fav photographer🫣😘😍

user23 That photographer is doing us all a service😍😍 user24 I didn't know she could look prettier🥹❤️❤️ user25 The first photo will no one talk about it🤨😳😳 arthur_leclerc Are those hands that photographers?🤔🤔 charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc what do you know?😩😩 lewishamilton we have the cutest bestie, the photographer better not be a man😒 user26 I'm scared of having both Lewis and Charles as best friends, they are too over protective🤣🤣

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,297,229 others

y/n.y/l/n 보고 싶, 돌아와요오빠😭😭💜💜 miss you!! come back oppa

user27 eww!! Oppa you can't date her, you are supposed to end up with me🤮🤮 user28 I don't get what he saw in her??😒😒 user29 Fandom cleanse here I come🤣🤣 user30 She's so pretty. To bag Jungkook, I mean he has taste❤️❤️ charles_leclerc he's the mystery photographer?🤔 lewishamilton can't believe you didn't tell me😤😤 y/n.y/l/n lewishamilton in my defence, you are scary but my boyfriend could take you out ☺️😉 user31 I love the brother sister dynamic Lewis and Y/N have😂😂 user32 she hard launched the fuck out of her relationship❤️❤️🙏 user33 user32 she's staking her claim. I would too, if I was dating Jungkook💜💜😍

Y/N was walking towards the Ferrari when she bumped into Max. "Hello Max" she smiled. "Hi" he replied. "How have you been?" he asked. "Good. You?" she asked. "Good. Surprise to see you here" he said. "Yeah, my best friends said they missed me so.." she said. "Ah yes, Lewis and Charles" Max mulled. "I'll get going then" she announced. "No, wait" Max stopped her. "I'm sorry" he apologised. "For what?" she asked. "For hurting you. I really did like you." he explained. "me too." she lamented. "Can't we try again" he proposed. She let out a big and loud laugh, making Max embarrassed and heads turn. "Sorry Max, but that ship sailed long ago. Aren't you still with Kelly, though?" she asked. Max didn't say anything. "Don't flip flop, love a woman correctly and truly. Also, I'm engaged." she said pointed at her left hand which had a beautiful large diamond on the ring finger which looked like it had found it's rightful owner. "Wish you good luck and Congratulations on the championship last year" she called out while she walked away. Max could only stare at her as she disappeared from his sight.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[satorusugurugurl]

I know you might have one like this … but can u do a multi fic with jjk boys (gojo geto nanami and toji) where they push their girl to using the safe word.

If this is too similar to ur other fic I get it lol. If it is then can u do a jealous fic for them.

JJK Men: Safe Word

Summary: Things get a little too hot and heavy, and you have to use your safe word!

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,038

Warnings: Rough sex, mentions of blood, public sex, teasing, boundaries crossed, safe word use, after-care!

A/N: Thank you for the request, Nonnie! I hope you enjoyed it; I know I did. Requests are open!

Gojo Satoru:

“Fuck!” Satoru growled from behind you as his cock slammed in and out of your pussy at a rough pace. “Baby, you feel so fuckin’ good!”

It did feel good. God, you loved it when Gojo fucked you rough. Rough sex was always fun—depending on where you were. You loved it in bed! On the couch, the kitchen, and even the shower. But your private onsen? Yeah, this wasn't exactly it.

“S-Satoru,” You winced out, hands scraping over the rocks of the private hot spring you were in. The pain in your hands stung as the hot water started making you dizzy. “Satoru!”

Your attempts to grab your boyfriend's attention went over his head. You crying out his name meant you must be enjoying yourself. Gojo loved it when you cried and screamed his name. It made his cock throb inside of you. He grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face against the rocks.

“That’s right, say my fucking name~!! Let everyone here know who fucking you so good that you're crying, Y/N. Take it, take it~!”

Your face stung, the rocks cutting into your delicate skin. The hot water sploshed around as your breasts bounced. Fuck you were dizzy, and your palms were sore. You might pass out, and not in a good way.

“Toru!” you yelled again, tears in your eyes as black spots formed in your vision. “T-Torr—” Hot, too hot, “Toru,” Panic rose as your vision blurred. You had to use it, your safe word. There was no other choice. “Mochi!! Mochi!!”

Instantly, Satoru stopped, pulling away. “What's wrong? Are you okay?!” Concern laced his voice as you weakly tried getting out of the heated water. “Y/N?!” He scooped you up in his arms, carrying you out of the hot spring. “Holy fuck, you're burning up!”

You whine, trying to blink away the black spots, listening as Gojo runs around the room. You sighed in relief as a cold rag was placed on your forehead. The chill felt good against your heated skin, bringing your temperature down slowly but surely. After laying on the ground for a couple of minutes, you slowly opened your eyes, seeing Gojo looming over you, towel around his waist as he fanned you.

“Hey, there you are.” Tossing the fan to the side, he gently examined a couple of scratches on your face. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”

You tried to get up, only to be shoved back down. “I got so dizzy, and my hands were killing me.” Satoru frowned, grabbing your hands gently and turning them over to examine the red skin littered with tiny cuts. “I'm sorry, Satoru, I just couldn't do it.” your boyfriend shook his head, kissing your palms so softly you barely felt it.

“Don't you even think about apologizing! We have a safe word for a reason.” Satoru sighed in relief, the back of his hand feeling your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I was way too rough.”

“I don't mind you being rough. Just preferably in bed. Or the kitchen. Or that time in your office.”

Satoru scoffed, shaking his head as he picked you up, carrying you into the room. “You just almost passed out ten minutes ago, and you still like it rough?” He sat you on the bed, taking the rag off your head, heading to rinse it out, and put it back in place.

“I may not be the strongest or the chosen one.” You lay down, watching his toned back flex with laughter as he shook his head. “But you chose me ~ I'm the strongest at making you cum.” The wet rag promptly smacked you in the face. The wet plop had you giggling as the bed dipped.

“Alright, chosen one, lay back down and let me cuddle you.”

Geto Suguru:

“S-Sugu~!.” You gasped out, face pressed into the corner of the small closet you were in. The tiniest fucking closet in the world. And your leggings were around your knees as Suguru humped into you from behind.

“So tight, fuck you're clamping down on me.” Suguru humped faster, pushing you deeper into the tiny constricting corner. “You like this? Like it when I fuck you when people could catch us?”

Usually, yes, you got off on it. But right now, in a coat closet, that was constricting your air, not so much. Your body was tense, legs trembling as waves of nausea washed over you. Your chest felt tight, and you suddenly couldn't breathe all that well. It felt like the closet was getting smaller and smaller, threatening to crush you.

“Y/N fuck~” Your boyfriend whispered. “Are you gonna cum~? You're getting so tight~ Gonna cum on my cock?” Suguru slid his hand up, grabbing your throat and squeezing it. “Let me help.~”

Now, you really couldn't breathe, and it triggered your fight or flight. “Red!” You barked out, clawing at his hand around your throat.

Hearing your safe word, one Suguru never heard you use, had him moving so fast. He released your throat, pulled out, and quickly readjusted both your clothes before opening the door to the closet. He watched in fear as you stumbled out, falling to your knees as you gasped for air.

“Y/N, princess?” His hand gently pressed against your lower back. “Are you okay? What happened? Did I hurt you?”

“N-No!” You gasped out. “I was getting claustrophobic. I couldn't breathe.” Your heart rate slowed down as you turned to face him. His bangs dangled in his face as his dark eyebrows knitted together. “You didn't do anything wrong. It was all me.”

Suguru felt somewhat relieved that he had not been entirely responsible for your use of the safe word. But that didn't stop him from feeling bad. He turned his back to you, motioning for you to climb on.

“Come on, let's get you outside.” You eagerly climb on his back, resting your chin on his shoulder. “This party is lame anyway.”

“Yeah, it is. On the way home, can we get boba?”

“That's a silly question. Of course, we can get boba. Watching you suck down balls would be far more entertaining than this party.”

“If I'm feeling up for it later, can I suck on your balls?”

“We’ll see how you feel later.” God, why was he so caring and perfect? You buried your face in his neck with a happy hum. “Okay, back there, princess?”

“Never better.”

Nanami Kento:

One of Nanami’s favorite things to do when he got back from a mission was to tease you. It started as simply worshiping your body, gentle actresses of skin, and kisses down your neck. The man wanted to retrace every part of you he hadn't gotten to see while he was away.

So this time around, he was paying extra close attention. He had just gotten home from a two-week mission, and he was desperate for your touch. Nanami was gently caressing your arms, your inner thighs, all the way to your dripping pussy. But he never touched your sex. He wanted to savor every inch of you. Taking in the way you whimpered and twitched as his hands trailed over your body.

He could do this for hours.

You gripped the sheets in your hands, whining as Nanami’s fingers drew closer and closer to your clit, but he never touched it. What had started as loving, longing touches had turned into an almost torturous touch. Your legs began to tremble and shake, aching for your fiancè to do something, anything!

“So beautiful~” Nanami whispered as his fingers grazed your inner thigh, all the way up to your pussy. “God, you're so wet.” oh, this was it. He was finally going to touch you! But to your absolute disappointment, he trailed his finger back down to your thigh.

It was too much; you were so turned on it hurt! Covering your eyes, you whimpered in frustration. Nanami focused on your calves, honey-brown eyes transfixed on the soft skin, reveling in the feeling of it when his world crumbled at your soft cry.

“Yellow.”

Nanami whirled his attention back to you, his hand cupping your cheek. “Y/N love, honey, what's wrong?” You said nothing; your bottom lip trembled as you clenched your thighs together. “Y/N, talk to me.” His deep voice was concerned as his eyes focused on you while you pulled your hands from your face.

“I-I can't take it anymore. I need you to touch me, like really touch me; it hurts.”

Nanami’s shoulders slumped down as he sighed in relief. “Oh love, I'm sorry. Was I teasing you too much?” Calloused fingers immediately found your clit, sending you nearly off the bed. “Is that better?” he cooed as his lips pressed against yours as you whined.

“Y-Yes!” You inhaled sharply, eyes going wide as he slid those two fingers inside of your wet heat. “K-Kento!”

“Shh, I got you know, just relax.” But it was hard to relax when he started pumping those thick fingers in and out of your cunt. “I got you.”

Toji Fushiguro:

“Fucking bitch.” You whine as Toji slams into you. “Trying to flirt with you.” your nails dig into the brick wall of the alley Toji fucking you in. Your panties dangle from your ankle as he presses your back harder into the wall. “I'll show them; all of them you belong to me.”

“T-Toji!” you whine out, “please be quiet.” Your eyes darted down the alley. People were talking and walking by. The streets are busy on a Saturday night, and you'd much rather not get arrested for public indecency.

“No.” His teeth clamp down into your neck so hard you scream. “Let them hear, let everyone know who's fucking you so good.” You winced, trying to ignore the anxiety settling in your chest. It would help if you focused on the pained pleasure instead. “You want that? Don't you want the whole city to see you getting fucked like a bitch in heat?”

“I-I—!”

“‘I-I—’ what slut? Use your big girl words.”

“Toji I—I don't—!”

“If you don't tell me what you want, I'll just have to take you to the street and fuck you in front of everyone.” Sharp teeth bit down on your earlobe as a group of people laughed yards away.

Everything hit you at once. Toji’s words, the sound of approaching laughter, the fear. “Red!” His eyes widened as he gently pulled out, placing you on the ground. Just as a group of people walked by. Gripping your dress, you shakily slid down the wall.

“Hey, hey, you okay, Y/N?”

“I—I—” you flushed, putting your panties back on, “I didn't like the way you were acting. I don't like the idea of someone else seeing me like this.” Toji’s face softened as he nodded. “That was too much. Way too much, Toji.”

His face fell. The confusion that was etched into his features was replaced by regret. You were visibly upset, arms wrapping around yourself as you took several deep breaths. You were right. He had gone too far. He was so annoyed with the guys looking at you in the bar that he took it out on you—the last person who deserved to be treated that way.

“Y/N.” His fingers graze your cheek. “I’m sorry, babe. I was so in my head I didn't even consider how you would feel.”

He was being sincere. His cheeks were flushed as you looked at him. He rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced down the alley; for him to apologize like this meant a lot. Toji wasn't the best when it came to using his words.

He flinched as you fell forward into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. “You dummy.” He scoffed, wrapping his arms around you and leading you down the alley to the street.

“Come on, brat, let’s get you home. I'll snuggle the fuck out of you as an apology.”

“Can I be the big spoon?” You asked, leaning into his side as you walked.

He snorted a laugh, his hand holding your hip, pulling you tighter against him. “You sure can.”

[ddollfface]

Hello, first of all I really appreciate your blog. I love to read your story's, they are incredible C:

Secondly, I wanted to take a request for a yandere baki? Like, he falls for a classmate who is really shy and insecure but she secretly trains to become more confident and stronger? Maybe Baki wants to help her (or not depends on how you think yandere baki would be) and also protect her?

Sorry if my request is a little bit confusing ^^" If it's too random for you, you can just write general yandere baki headcanons :") I hope you have a nice day and thank you in advance :D<3

𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Trigger Warnings; Bad writing, she/her pronouns, possessive thoughts, not really yandere, reader is depicted as really socially awkward and clumsy, uhhh Kozue doesn't exist in this universe ig (I'm sorry bbg) It's no problem, nonny! I love it when ya'll give me random scenarios lol. Though I write really slowly, so sorry that it's been so long... Enjoy and give me any feedback! I'm still trying to tweak Baki's character profile!

“C’mon, do one more. You got this,” 

You panted, stretching your muscles to the extent you could, bringing your chin above the bar, trying to focus on the searing stretch in your muscles, and using it to motivate you as you lifted yourself up once more. Your thighs were clenched, trying to fight gravity, and get twenty pull-ups, surprising yourself when your head gets above the bar. 

Seventeen… that’s Baki’s age, you think with a small smile gracing your face as you go for another one, only to whine, wincing as your arms refuse to move. Just as you’re about to drop, you feel your classmate, who you’re too nervous to call a friend, hands grab your waist, helping you down from the pull-up bar. His hands cupped your waist, practically carrying your weight in his hands, catching you off-guard.

“I-thank you, Baki,” You mumbled, glancing over your shoulder as he set you on the ground, and smiling. A warm feeling fluttered in your chest, feeling accomplished at how many pull-ups you did. Only just a month ago, you couldn’t even hang from the bar without getting sore, but with Baki’s help, you’ve improved so much! It makes you giddy as you think of your progress, of how far you’ve come, and how much stronger you’ll be in the future. It gives you a surge of confidence whenever you find yourself exerting some of your newfound strength, beginning to love yourself a little more. 

“No problemo,” Baki shrugs, trying to remain lax, ignoring the throbbing of his heart. He got to touch you, place his hands on your waist, and carry your weight. God, you’re so pretty, even when you’re all sweaty. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy (he is). Your presence feels like a punch to the gut, giving him a newfound energy, the same feeling he chases when he fights. His heart pumping blood throughout his body, forcing it through his veins as his brain races with thoughts, thoughts, and more thoughts. He can almost feel his hands shake, practically begging his conscience for a chance to grab, hold, and smother you with affection, to pepper kisses all over your face, and praise your body in a way you deserve. 

He can’t even describe the surge of joy he got when you asked him for help, looking at him… well you didn’t look at him, preferring the ground’s gaze whenever you talk to him, but that didn’t matter too much. Your words were far more important. The moment your soft voice shyly asked for him to train you, to help you out because you wanted to be better, to be more confident. 

And while Baki loved you for who you were and the way you were he understood. He understood wanting to be better, to strive for more and more until your nails have gone raw and bloody, unable to claw away. He understands the feeling of not being where you want to be, of not being stronger, or accomplishing more. 

Though you both have different reasons for training, he understands the core values of it. You’re training to help build confidence and find value in yourself, while Baki does it because it’s a staple in his life, the only consistent pillar throughout his short years. But you both share the determination and though you likely will never be as strong as him, which is completely okay and likely how he’d prefer it, he admires how you had the confidence to approach him, asking him for help with something so personal.

Of course, he said yes. What kind of man would he be if he denied you help? Especially when you asked so sweetly? He still remembers how his cheeks grew warm and how he could hear his heart thud against his ribs at the idea of watching you work out. And though, Baki will never admit to it… you’re just so pretty, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You’re so soft, so kind, and just so cute. There’s no way he can’t gawk, respectfully, whenever he sees you squat, or how you smile whenever you complete a set, looking at him with amazement. Sometimes you’ll even hug him! And, honestly, he could die a happy man!

He tries his hardest, never wanting to make you uncomfortable, keeping your best interests in mind, and that’s why he absolutely refuses to let you work out in public. Nope, nope, nope, that’s not going to happen. Sure, you two can go on a run together, but he makes sure to give you one of his athletic zip-ups, not wanting guys to gawk at you, knowing that they will. 

It doesn’t matter that you’re only sixteen, he knows how men think, how they reduce you to your body. You’re so much more than that, and that’s why his blood boiled when he saw a guy let his eyes trail across your body as you did some push-ups. Yeah, no, you’re never going to a public gym again, that was the first and last time he’d ever let you do that. 

And if you were to ask, he’ll just say that you can’t even imagine the amount of sweat and bacteria on those machines. Can’t you imagine how many sweaty, grubby hands have touched those dumbbells? Or how many people have sat on that bench? Yeah, you can’t give him a number, and after that, you refused to touch your face without washing your hands and wiping away any grime from your face with a wet wipe, even upping your skincare a little.

Don’t get it wrong, you’re not a germaphobe or anything, but you had to agree with Baki, though you weren’t going to challenge him either way. You had noticed the gleam in his eyes as he pulled you up and off the floor, stopping you in the middle of your rep. Of course, you pouted a little, seeing as you were about to do ten push-ups! But you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stir any trouble, so you just kept your head down as Baki said you guys were going to end early. 

You didn’t want to, but you trusted Baki, and you weren’t going to say no when he looked so sure of himself. You hadn’t noticed the way his eyes seemingly darkened when he walked behind you, noticing how your leggings hugged you too tightly, nor did you seem to care when he handed you a jacket, saying you looked a little cold. If anything, you thought it was extremely sweet, and it made your cheeks grow warm, and your stomach does flips. 

“Well, it’s getting pretty late; you want me to take you home?” Baki’s voice draws you out of your little trip down memory lane, causing you to look up from your hands, which you were probably staring at for an embarrassing amount of time. With a small smile, you nod your head, turning to face Baki, and wiping some sweat from your brow. 

“Um, sure! That sounds like a plan-” You cut yourself off with an awkward chuckle, internally cursing yourself for being such a dork. I mean, what could Baki, probably the strongest man in the world, be thinking of you? He probably thinks you're super duper weird and that you sweat too much, oh God. What if you smell! 

Slowly losing yourself in your thoughts, Baki quirked a brow, noticing that you seemingly were spacing out, so, like any normal person who definitely hasn’t been daydreaming about his moment since he first met you, he placed his hand on your shoulder and tilts his head, “*Hey, are you good? You’re not lightheaded or anything, right? That wouldn’t be too good, yeah?*”

Baki had a small, reassuring smile on his lips, and the small mole on his upper lip stretched slightly, catching your attention. Feeling your cheeks heat up, your brain went into override, becoming overwhelmed with how close Baki was. You could see all the pores in his skin, and you could feel him too. His palm was oddly warm, maybe a little sweaty, but that was probably just you… ew. His hand cupped your shoulder, thumb drumming against your colder skin softly as he awaited your response, but you just looked at him with parted lips, eyes wide, and mind blank. 

You definitely looked like an idiot, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, feeling a little awestruck. Let’s just say that conversations have really never been your thing, especially when they’re cute guys without a shirt. Trying your best, you succeeded in keeping your eyes locked on his face, not letting them linger and drift down to his neck, where his SCM muscle flowed down to his clavicle and mended with the infrahyoid muscle group, only for his trapezius muscle to lay over his shoulder blade and peak from his back. His pectoralis majors were bulging against his sternum, making him seem more like a bodybuilder than a normal, teenage boy, not even to mention his serratus anterior, which was clearly defined and wrapped around his sides-

“Geez, man, you’re such a creep, staring at my muscles,” Baki chuckled, hiding how giddy he felt with your eyes on him, him, him.  His hand moved from your shoulder to your head, ruffling your hair with a cheeky grin as he tilted his head teasingly, “Is that a little drool I see there?” The hand on your head moved to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip, as if there were really drool (there wasn’t, he just wanted to make you flustered). His calloused fingers teased your cheek, almost covering your whole face, and you thought you might just die. 

“Pphha-Oh, my God! I’m so, so sorry, Baki! That was so weird-” You fumbled over yourself, practically jumping away from his hand with a warm face. Your lips were trembling slightly, your nerves dripping through your veins as you cracked your knuckles, unsure of what to do with yourself as you felt your blood turn into molten lava. Standing with your arms straight and hands by your side, you quickly maneuvered to get your stuff, quickly remembering what the conversation was. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, your legs were unstable as you steadied yourself and glanced around Baki’s home, not wanting to come anywhere near his gaze. 

“Well, anyways-I, um… I think I should go, um, home.” I spoke unceremoniously, ending your words with an out-of-place cough, only fueling Baki’s amusement as he looked you up and down. You were just so cute. He could just eat you up. His syrupy brown eyes swirled with amusement, taking in your nervous form. He really is obsessed, isn’t he?

He can’t get enough of your flustered smile, the way your lips quirk and tremble as you let meaningless words slip from your lips. Your eyes always got so scattered, flickering across whatever room, just to avoid his gaze. Although he’d love for you to get more comfortable, to just relax around him, he does enjoy these moments where you slur your speech and wave your hands around; it’s comforting in a sense. Deciding not to push any further, knowing your heart would probably thump out of your chest, he shrugs his shoulders and gives your bicep a small tap, “Sure thing, I’ll let you off this time.”

His voice was soft and playful as to coax you out of being so nervous. You just smile stiffly, feeling your heart thump, thump, thump, going crazy in your ribcage as you try to cool your tense figure, to slow the blood flooding in your ears. Giving him a nervous, wonky smile, you shrug your bag further up your shoulders, needing to do anything to distract you from the situation at hand. Baki was just so cool, and everything about him was amazing, but you were just… you. For God’s sake! Baki is probably the strongest man in the world, for all you know! And he’s training you of all people? He must be an angel or something… 

That’s what you think. You don’t know the gleam that flickers through his eyes whenever you turn away, the pure, utterless obsession that flows through his veins. Though Baki wouldn’t consider himself to be a jealous man, by any means, he can’t help but worry about you. You also don’t know the amount of men he’s dealt with through the school year; the amount of people he’s had to… steer away from you, just to keep you safe. But that’s good. You don’t need to know, ever. 

And you still don’t know as you walk side-by-side through the residential neighborhood, Baki holding your bag, of course. He always insists that he helps you out, seeing as you must be oh so tired from your workout, so just let him help you out, yeah?

To you, it was a smooth night, although a little awkward and embarrassing, it was nice. There was a soft breeze, so it was pleasing on the back of your neck, and you could feel your hair tussle and flow. Humming under your breath, you glance around the neighborhood you know like the back of your hand, and observe the different houses. Many were more 1970s-stylized architecture, but it was pretty nonetheless. They all had dark, wooden frames and sloped roofs, guarded by flimsy, wooden fences. With your eyes locked onto your surroundings, you lost track of how long you’d been walking until Baki suddenly stopped, nudging you for your attention. 

“Oh, thanks for walking me home, Baki…” You chuckle, catching yourself before you could make you look like more of an airhead. Scratching your cheek, you turned your back, standing in front of the gate that led to your small home, where your parents were probably snooping out the window to see what cute boy had brought you home…

“Nah, we’re chillin’. I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know how it is.” He shrugged, giving you a small, endearing smile before shoving his hands into his jean pockets, glancing at the ground before looking back at you. Giggling sheepishly, you messed with the hem of your shirt, before clearing your throat and straightening your posture. The air was oddly relaxing, though still a little stiff.

“Yeah, but you really didn’t need to, especially since you’re carrying my bag, too!” You sighed dramatically, pursing your lips slightly as you tried to make the mood a little lighter, more for yourself than Baki. He chuckled, rolling his eyes a little with some sass, handing you your bag as you motioned for it. 

“Geez, what d’ya think of me? I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I let you walk out here by yourself.” Baki flicked your forehead with a quirked brow, continuing, “But really don’t mention it. You’re like my best friend, practically my responsibility.” He added with a nonchalant grin. 

Nodding your head with a smile, trying to ignore the growing warmth on the back of your neck. God, talking to Baki was so easy, even if you fumbled your words an embarrassing amount of times, and you couldn’t help but feel your brain speed up, racing a million miles per hour. Subconsciously, your eyes kept lingering, down, down, down toward his lips, watching them move as he spoke. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, there was a tug on your heart, feeling a pull toward Baki, and he felt it, too. 

Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Oh, c’mon! Just do it! You hyped yourself up, adjusting your duffle bag on your shoulder as I leaned your weight onto one foot to another, slightly nudging yourself closer to Baki. Your heart was pounding, ringing in your ears as you kept your eyes nervously locked on his face. Baki had continued talking, rambling off about some fight he had recently. Of course, you loved hearing Baki talk, but you couldn’t think straight, hyper-fixating on this inner turmoil that took over your thoughts. Though Baki had noticed your fidgeting and shift in behavior, he brushed it off as you just being antsy to go to sleep. Wait; why are you so close?

And just like that your lips brushed against his cheek, only there for half a second that Baki thought that he had imagined it. A slip of electricity had shot through both of you, a lingering warmth on his cheek as Baki stared at you with wide eyes. You just kissed him! Baki’s brain went into overload, standing there with his lips parted like a fish. Of course, your face had blossomed with an overwhelming amount of warmth, so hot that even Baki could feel it radiate off of you. Without a second thought, you rushed into your home, though not without running into the half-opened gate and tripping up the steps. 

Baki hadn’t even noticed your clumsy movements, far too focused on the warmth that swelled under his skin, a feeling he wasn’t used to. The tips of his fingers were pulsing, feeling static as he urged himself to do something, but his mind was caught up on what he felt. Everything was upside down, his world spinning, and the rhythm of his heart kept him in a jumble. It felt like his brain was empty but swirling with more thoughts than it should. Your lips felt oh so soft, and he couldn’t forget; he didn’t want to forget. 

“You’re just too much.” He mumbled under his breath, a newfound determination blossomed in his heart, and a lovesick gleam in his brown eyes. You just confirmed everything he’s ever wanted and dreamed of; you were his. You want to be his. That just means that you don’t need them either, all you need is him, and he’s sure you wouldn’t mind just staying at his place, right? You’re practically dating now, and it’s only right that you live together; that’s what couples do, right? 

As he walked away, steps a little off-center, a plan formed in his head, obsessive delusions fueling it. With just one, small kiss, you had decided your fate. No longer could you get off as just being his “best friend”, no. You were his lover now, his future wife. Though you didn’t seem to fully grasp that, Baki’s glad to give a helping hand.

[deansbeer]

Hi, can you do an imagine about pranking vinnie, and telling him to try not to annoy you today, please

pranks ⎯⎯ V HACKER.

YAP SESH! thank you for requesting nonnie baby! i'm sorry if it wasn't exactly how you wanted it but i hope you enjoy <3

⎯⎯ you prank your boyfriend by telling him not to annoy you & it backfires, which wasn't what you expected.

WARNING(S) angst | pranks | F!READER | emotional distress | crying. ୨ৎ MATURE CONTENT!

୨ৎ VINNIE'S LIBRARY.

you wake up feeling mischievous, plotting a prank to play on your unsuspecting boyfriend vinnie. thinking up the perfect plan to really mess with him, you can't help the smirk forming as he slowly stirs awake.

leaning over, you whisper in his ear "good morning baby." however, your usually sweet tone holds an underlying edge of irritation that has vinnie blinking in confusion. before he can say anything, you continue in a clipped manner.

"i'm already annoyed so don't bother me at all for the rest of the day, okay? i mean it." his eyebrows furrow, clearly taken aback by your sharp words. searching your face for any sign that it's a joke, hurt washes over him as you give no indication you don't seriously want space.

"okay..." he says hesitantly, hurt flickering in his eyes as he climbs out of bed. part of you feels guilty seeing how your prank is already affecting him, but you're determined to commit fully to the bit. hopefully he'll catch on soon that you're messing with him.

throughout the morning, vinnie keeps his distance as asked, seeming uneasy and unsure what to do to not annoy you further. any attempts at jokes or affection are met with exaggerated irritation, cementing in his mind that you genuinely need space from him.

it grows harder to maintain your façade as his usual cheerfulness fades into guarded silence. by midday, remorse is gnawing a hole in your gut seeing how dejected vinnie appears. when he recoils from your touch with worried eyes, you can no longer take it.

"vinnie, i need to tell you something," you start, grabbing his arm as he tries to walk away. he pauses but doesn't turn, shoulders hunched in defeatedly. "this was all just a stupid prank baby, i don't actually want space from you."

whirling around, hurt and anger flash across his features. "a prank? i thought you were seriously pissed off at me! you had me questioning everything all day," he shouts, hurt turning to rage the longer he processes how badly you messed with him.

"i'm sorry, it was just a joke. i didn't mean to actually upset you,” you scramble to apologize but he brushes past, heading for the door. "where are you going?" panic surges through you, worrying you may have broken the fragile trust between you.

"i just need to be alone for a while, i can't even look at you right now," he spits venomously before slamming the front door behind him. collapsing to the floor, you pull your knees up to your chest as quiet sobs escape your lips.

hours pass with no word from vinnie, your texts and calls going unanswered in a painful silence. night falls heavily, adding to your despair wondering if you pushed him too far this time. just as you're about to give up hope, the door creaks open slowly.

lifting your head, you see vinnie standing uncertainly in the doorway, eyes puffy and red-rimmed from his own tears. without a word, he crosses over and falls into your waiting embrace, holding on for dear life. neither of you speak for a long while, simply taking comfort in being close again.

finally, vinnie pulls back enough to look at you with watery eyes. "i'm still so fucking mad at you but i love you too much to walk away. just promise me no more stupid pranks, okay?" he pleads brokenly.

"i promise, i'm so sorry, baby. can you ever forgive me?" you ask, cupping his face gently. he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips in acceptance of your apology. holding each other tightly, you both silently vow to communicate better to avoid such hurt in the future.

[makeyoumine69]

Hii,

if it's not to much to ask could you maybe write period sex for a gn reader? Something sweet and comforting T-T

Thank you so much, and I hope you know your writing is amazing!

Shape of You

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

CW: Smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, period sex, masturbation (reader receiving), body worship, blood kink, sweet dirty talk, pet names, finger sucking, established relationship, needy Patrick.

SONG REC: Fame on Fire—Shape of You (Rock Cover)

WORDS: ~2.5k

LINKS: [Masterlist], [AO3], [Wattpad].

A/N: Hello nonnie! I hope you like this little piece of writing, I enjoyed every second of working on it!💞 For this fic, I used ax divider by @paintology-the-alien

Starting your period usually sucked, but starting your period at Bateman's apartment felt even worse because you didn't know how he would react if you told him there would be no sex tonight. Would he be angry or even sad? Probably all of that, but the worst part was that the two of you were supposed to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You had wanted to go there for a long time, but Patrick had never been able to find the time. And today, when he finally arranged this "weird date," as he called it, you started having your period and the cramps in your stomach made you curl up on his bed, helplessly clutching a pillow. You didn't even think about how long you'd been lying there, you didn't even have the energy to get up and take some painkillers, all you could think about was how mad and angry Bateman would be when he came home and saw you like this. It was pretty obvious that you wouldn't be able to go out today, not even a chance.

As the sun began to sink below the horizon, it became quite dark in the bedroom, the dim light lulling you into a sweet nap that you had been craving all day, considering that in your dream you could finally get some rest from the nagging pain that was making you quite tired.

A soft, almost gentle touch on the top of your head woke you up almost immediately. Blinking in confusion, you looked up to see your lover's beautiful face, and you couldn't really stop yourself from pressing your palm against his cheek. Patrick smiled and let out a sound that was somewhere between a short chuckle and a purr.

"Mmh..." you giggled, watching his plush lips curl at your touch, and tried to pinch his chin, but he caught your hand with ease. "Patty..."

"What's the matter, my sleeping beauty?" He brought your small palm closer, only to leave a light peck on it. "Are you ready for our...little trip into the world of art?"

Rolling your eyes at his feeble attempt to needle you, you sat on your knees, still holding a pillow with your free hand. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it to the museum today."

Bateman stopped for a moment. "What? Why not? Did something happen in my absence?"

"No," you replied curtly, the way he instantly panicked and worried melted your heart. "I just..." you looked down, desperately trying to find the right words to describe your condition. But in the end, it was best to call a spade a spade. "I've started my period, and I've got cramps so fucking severe that I can't even get out of bed."

"Too bad." Was all he said before he leaned down to kiss your forehead, then your cheek and your nose. It was only when he had finished showering your face with little pecks that he finally found your lips and gently pulled you closer, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. The kiss was slow at first, but then evolved into something more demanding as you responded, letting your tongues slide along each other in a lustful dance. "Did you take some pills? Painkillers?"

You shook your head, causing Patrick to tsk in frustration.

"I'll bring you... something then," with that he strolled across the bedroom to disappear around the corner to the bathroom. The man returned in a minute, holding a jar of pills and a bottle of Eveian water. "This is ibuprofen, it'll help."

"Thank you doctor," you chirped and took a pill while Patrick opened a bottle for you, holding it all the way while you drank. "I'm sorry for ruining our plans...I hope you're not mad at me."

Grinning in delight, Patrick brushed the stray curls from your face. "No, I'm not mad at all. Besides, it was you who wanted to go to the museum so badly, so I think of the two of us, you should be the one who's sad that we're not going there."

"Right..."

Slowly, Bateman unbuttoned his jacket and carefully placed it on the bed, where he found your small sketchbook, which he almost immediately picked up with undisguised interest.

"So this is what you were doing while I was at work?" He asked, flipping through the pages and admiring your little sketches. "Mmm...nice anatomy...that looks really nice. Not bad at all."

Slightly embarrassed, you let out an awkward chuckle and turned away, for some reason you didn't want to see him looking through your sketchbook. "Well, thanks for the compliment...I guess?" You wanted to say something else, but instead you could only stifle a groan of pain as another nagging cramp shot through you. "Oh...fuck...I hate it so much."

Seeing you writhing in pain, Bateman closed the sketchbook and put it back on the bed, you didn't even understand what he was about to do, but as he picked you up and carried you bridal style, you hugged his neck and dared to ask a question.

"Where are we going?" 

"To the bathroom," the man replied with radiant confidence, as if he had done it so many times before. But what exactly was he going to do? "A warm bath will help ease your pain, honey. Trust me."

Frowning, you couldn't help thinking that you probably weren't the first partner he'd had who suffered from a painful period, but when you finally entered the bathroom and he put you down on the floor, his hands already working on removing your top and shorts, you forgot about everything. Because the past should be in the past, right?

When Patrick finished undressing you, he quickly turned on the faucet of the bathtub and the water flowed down with a pleasant sound. 

"God, you're so pretty," Bateman murmured suddenly, planting a loving kiss on your shoulder, then bending forward to burrow his nose into your hair; you were glad you'd showered several times already today, because you felt nervous and uncomfortable being intimate with him when your period started. "I think I know more ways to help you with your pain."

There was something playful in his voice, something that made your knees weak and if he did not hold you, you would probably end up splattered on the floor.

"Get in the bath, kitten," he whispered in your ear, his lips teasing the lobe almost imperceptibly. "Want to try some new soaps I got?" Patrick asked, pulling up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt.

You obeyed and took your place in the warm tub, it felt heavenly. "Would you allow me to use them? I can't believe it." 

"Today," the man sat on the edge of the tub and took a washcloth to soak it in water, then he grabbed the freshly purchased L'Occitane liquid soap. "I'll make an exception." The man poured a handful onto the washcloth and began scrubbing your back so gently you didn't even feel it. As his free hand slid down your chest, you gasped, feeling a building tension at your core. "Spread your legs." 

Oh, shit.

You barely held back a curse, but did as he said anyway, feeling completely at his mercy, and of course he liked it, you knew it as the moment you parted your legs his large palm slid between them, pressing a washcloth and gently rubbing your sensitive spot in a circular motion.

"Mmmh," you closed your eyes and leaned against the marble rim of the tub. "That..."

"Feels good?"

"Absolutely," you replied, letting him have better access to your most sensitive places, his fingers busy touching your throbbing flesh as the washcloth was already forgotten. Shaking, you opened your eyes when he grabbed your neck, not roughly, but quite possessively. "You have very interesting ways...to ease the pain?"

Bateman didn't say anything, just smiled and turned you to look up at him. "I want you to look right at me while I work on this little sweet spot of yours," he wrapped your throat a little tighter, making you gasp, but his mouth silenced any sounds you tried to make. "You like it when I take care of you, darling?"

You nodded as desperately as you could as Patrick slid one of his long fingers inside you, curling it just the way you always liked it. "Ahhh…Pat-Patrick…mhmm!"

"Just look at me," he cooed, brushing his lips against yours, ready to drink in your every little moan, adding another finger, causing your inner muscles to cling to his digits like a vine. "Just like that, my little plaything...just like that."

The eye contact, the sweet dirty talk, the way his fingers moved inside of you—it all drove you crazy, you were afraid of splashing the water out of the tub or on his expensive clothes, but as the man pressed your wet body closer to him, you knew you had both already lost your minds, together.

Catching his hand between your thighs, you made him stop for a second, Patrick curled his eyebrows in a silent question, but you used your mouth as the most eloquent answer, kissing him hard on the lips, spurring him to grab your neck even tighter as he was burning from the inside, as if the blood was boiling in his veins. God, he wanted you so fucking bad.

"Come here," you uttered after tugging at his lower lip. "Please..."

Breathing heavily, Bateman released your neck and stood up quickly to remove his tie, shirt, belt, pants... 

He did it so fast that you didn't even notice how he took a place behind you in the tub, it felt like he had been here from the beginning, his hard dick pressed against your ass, throbbing at the contact, but the man was focused on you, even when he noticed the tiny crimson pools of blood in the waster, he managed to fight his urge to fuck you here and now. After all, this was about you, not him. 

Wrapping his strong arms around you again, he explored your body so agonizingly slowly that you were about to scream with need, each touch calculated to set every nerve end in your system on fire. With your heavy lidded eyes you looked back at him, embraced his neck and without saying a word you quickly got up to mount him, making his thick cock draw between your legs, the friction causing his jaw to clench from the tension in his balls.

With a sly grin, you ran a finger along his parted lips, and before you knew it, Bateman had it in his mouth, sucking on it as if his life depended on it, while his hips idly bucked in a most shamelessly suggestive manner.

"Look at you," you whispered, pushing his finger deeper. "I didn't know blood could turn you on like this."

Patrick moaned as you rubbed your crotch against his, you were as close to falling apart as he was, though you tried to regain some control, not really realizing that you were in the lead now only because HE allowed you to be.

With a graceful move, you took his engorged cock to give it a few strokes before aligning it with your entrance to slowly take it in as you lowered your hips onto his.

"A-awww, fuck," you clawed at his shoulders from how full he made you feel, his hands already holding your waist in a tight ring as you bobbed up and then slowly down, savoring every inch of his girth that stretched you so deliciously. "I love you...I love you so f-fucking much."

Throwing his head back, Patrick barely kept himself from exploding inside you, the warmth and tightness of your inner channel making it so fucking hard for him to hold out any longer, but he did his best for you.

"Ohhh, shit, you're... you're so tight-mmmh," Bateman groaned, his hands digging into the skin of your hips as you picked up the pace, literally bouncing on his dick. "I'm...I'm gonna fill you so...fucking...deep!"

Moan after loud moan, water spilling onto the floor from your feverish movements, the obscene sounds of your bodies colliding against each other drowning out all other sounds as for a moment you thought your heart would pop out of your chest. It was beating so fast that you could hear your pulse drumming in your ears.

"Fuck....I'm cumming...Goshhh," you snuggled into his brawny frame, your hands squeezing his buff biceps as you clenched around him, milking his dick so he would follow suit, erupting inside of you, pumping you with the tight ropes of cum. "Patrick..."

You rested your head on his shoulder, he was still shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his muscles slowly relaxing under your touch. Patrick couldn't even say a word, his eyes closed and his face, chest and neck flushed red. You couldn't even find the right words to describe how much you loved seeing him like that, vulnerable as he was coming down from his high. The way he was always blushing during sex was your special kink.

After a while, the two of you were lying on the bed, wearing designer robes and discussing how you would visit the museum the next weekend. All the while, you were finishing your latest sketch when you suddenly remembered a fresh sketch you finished today. As you flipped through the pages, you landed on Bateman's chest and brushed his wet bangs.

"You know, if you kept leafing through my sketchbook, you would find this," you showed him the sketch of the tall, muscular man with a skipping rope, in which Patrick recognized himself almost immediately, but he remained silent. "What do you think?"

Humming, the man looked at you, then at the sketch, then back at you. "So you're stalking me while I'm working out?"

"What?" You jokingly punched him in the chest. "I... I don't stalk..."

"Well, I don't mind," he cut you off, grabbing the sketchbook out of your hands. "But I think I look a lot better in real life," Bateman pointed at the sketch as if he were an art critic. "You see, my body is much more ripped, and my chest muscles are much more... toned."

You shook your head, on the verge of laughing. "Of course, you are such a work of art yourself. No one can capture you as perfectly as you really are."

For a moment you thought your words might offend him as his face turned serious, his lips tightened into a thin line, but then you both burst out laughing. Ultimately, you didn't need to praise him all the time, because he was perfect just the way he was, and you knew that better than anyone else in the world.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[goldfades]

Quinn Hughes x equipment manager reader smut? Maybe it’s the start of the season so the reader is helping him get all his gear fitted and situated and she’s calling him “cap” and “captain” and he ends up feeling some type of way 😈

✮ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐂, quinn hughes

♡ ─ word count | 1.8k

♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when is it?) unprotected sex (tap it before u tap it kids), p in v, pretty fluffy, cute quinn, lmk if i missed anything

♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe

♡ ─ ev's notes | sorry for the late answer, nonnie, but i hope you enjoyed!!!!

You and Quinn had always had some kind of tension between you. You could never place on why, but you sure had an idea.

You were very attracted him, and everyone could tell. I mean, who could blame you? He was so gorgeous and not only that, he was so nice to you. Despite the unspoken tension, Quinn always treated you with a warmth that left you wondering if he felt something too. Your interactions were laced with a playful teasing, leaving you both excited and frustrated. It was a delicate dance, a push and pull that kept you on the edge of anticipation. As time went on, you couldn't help but wonder if your he had felt it too.

As the season kicks off, you find yourself spending more time with Quinn, helping him get all his gear fitted and anything else the team needed. You stand beside him, both focused on the task at hand. The scent of freshly worn sports equipment hangs in the air as you adjust the straps and fastenings. The process is weirdly intimate, each adjustment bringing you closer in proximity. Quinn's easy-going demeanor remains intact as you help him.

The strong scent of freshly polished leather and the distant echoes of the team gearing up in the locker room as Quinn smiles, appreciation evident in the way he smiles.

Quinn glances over at you, a playful glint in his eye. "Thanks for the help. I swear, I never get these straps right on my own. You're the best."

You blush at the praise as your lips curve into a smile, your fingers deftly adjusting the last buckle. "No problem, Quinn. Consider it my secret talent, master of the gear fittings."

He grins, flexing his fingers in the newly adjusted gloves. "Well, I appreciate your expertise, Y/N." Your name rolled off his tongue slowly and you both made eye contact. He was smiling as he gazed back you and you could feel yourself get red, you immediately break the eye contact.

Comfortable silence fills the room as you start gathering everything back where it's supposed to go. Quinn clears his throat and continues, "So, any predictions for this season?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room as if sizing up the competition.

You look up at him as you picked up something from the floor, responding. "I'm feeling optimistic. And with you as the captain, I think we're in for the best season we've had for a while."

Quinn's grin widens at your words, and a subtle pride glows in his eyes. "Well, I'll do my best to lead us to victory. But it's not just about me; it's about the whole team working together."

You knew he was just trying to be humble, but you knew he was proud. "Okay Mr. Modest, you know you're the shit, right?"

Quinn's laughter fills the room, a warm sound that eases any lingering tension. "Well, someone's got to keep my ego in check. Wouldn't want my head to get too big."

You join in his laughter, enjoying the easy banter. As the last piece of equipment finds its place, you catch Quinn's eye again. The shared moment of amusement lingers, and you can sense a shift in the air – a subtle acknowledgment of the tension between you.

The two of you stand in the quiet locker room, surrounded by the tangible energy of anticipation for the upcoming season. Quinn leans against a locker, still smiling. "You know, I may not say it as much as I would want, but I appreciate your help. We all do, without you, we wouldn't know how to do anything."

Quinn chuckles, and the locker room seems to shrink into an intimate space shared between just the two of you. "Maybe not completely helpless, but you make it a lot smoother for all of us. It's like having a secret weapon on our side."

You roll your eyes playfully. "A secret weapon, huh? I think you're exaggerating a bit."

He pushes himself off the locker, closing the distance between you. "Not at all. You have a way of making even the most mundane tasks enjoyable. It's a talent, not anyone can do that."

The air becomes charged with a different kind of tension, one that's laced with unspoken feelings. Quinn's compliment goes beyond the teasing, and you feel a warmth spreading through you. The playful dynamic shifts into a more genuine connection, and you find yourself caught in the intensity of his gaze.

"Thanks, Cap," you respond, the nickname slipping out naturally.

Quinn's eyes hold yours, and there's a flicker of something in his expression. "Cap, huh? I like the sound of that."

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. "Oh, now you're asking for it. Captain Quinn, our fearless leader."

He laughs again, but this time there's a subtle hint of desire in his smile. "You know, I may have underestimated the power of a good nickname. It suits you."

Quinn's laughter fades, and a charged silence lingers between you. The air seems thick with anticipation, and you notice a shift in Quinn's demeanor. There's a subtle intensity in his gaze, a desire that mirrors your own.

His eyes, now filled with a hint of desire, lock onto yours. "You're more than just a manager, Y/N. There's something about you that makes everything... interesting."

You can feel your heart beating faster as the unspoken connection between you intensifies. The nickname hangs in the air, a symbol of the closeness you've built. Quinn's smile turns more intimate, and the shift in dynamics becomes undeniable.

"Well, Captain Quinn," you say, your voice a whisper, "I've heard interesting is good."

Quinn's hand gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Very good, actually," he murmurs.

You reach up, fingers grazing the collar of his jersey, and Quinn's breath catches. The unspoken tension between you evolves into a something deeper. The tension becomes palpable, and in that charged moment, Quinn closes the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss.

Quinn's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and the world outside the locker room fades away. The connection you've felt, now manifesting physically, makes his touch right now south.

One of his hands go to cup your face, pulling you impossibly closer to him. The kiss is deep and passionate, just the way you'd imagined. He pulls away and you both breathe heavily.

"You're a good kisser, Captain." You tease quietly and it was like something in him clicked, he let out another exhale as his eyes turned into something more than just desire.

"Fuck, say that again." Quinn whispers back, his voice carrying desperation and need.

You didn't know he was into that and it took you aback to watch Quinn be so desperate. "Kiss me again, Captain."

He didn't hesitate, he pulled you in again and this time, the kiss was desperate and sloppy. He let out a hum in your kiss as he slowly walked you back into the locker, holding you against it. His hand moved up to hold your neck as he kissed you deeper, making you let out a whimper into the kiss.

He start grinding against you and you immediately felt his hard-on on top of your stomach. You didn't know it was that easy to rile him up, if only you'd known sooner. Quinn started kissing down your jaw as you let out a desperate moan.

"Shit, Quinn. Please," was all you could say. Your thoughts were beginning to fog up, you couldn't think straight.

"Please what, baby?" He mumbled against your neck as his hands move down to grip your waist. When you didn't answer, he let his hand go lower down in the place where you needed him the most. He cupped your covered cunt and you let out a moan, echoing throughout the locker room.

"Just fuck me, please." You whispered and you felt yourself become warm at the thought. He let out a chuckle before engulfing you in another bruising kiss, your whole body slamming against the locker once again. He

Your hands went to wrap around his shoulders as his hands went to take off your shorts, leaving you in your panties. "Jump," he mumbled against your lips and you did as you were told and he held you up with ease.

He pushed you harder against the locker as you moaned in his mouth, making him break the kiss. One of his hands unzipped his pants and quickly pulled out his hard cock. He moved your panties and slowly entered you. All you could do was grip his shoulders and moan as he thrusted himself right in you.

He stretched you out so perfectly, you swore you'd never felt this good your entire life. "Shit, Quinn."

"You feel so fucking good, baby. So good," he groaned as he finally bottomed you out. You felt so full, so good. His cock made you feel so dizzy, you were about to pass out.

He slowly started thrusting in and out of your soaking cunt, the sound echoing throughout the locker-room. You kept holding onto his shoulders for support as he fucked into you, letting out whimpers.

Quinn gripped your hips tightly as his speed increased with each thrust, your head fell back as he fucked into you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper.

"Fuck, baby, keep doing that." He groaned in your ear and you could barely comprehend the words he was saying, all you could do was mumble an affirmation as he kept fucking into you. "Just like that, baby."

You felt that familar knot form in your stomach as he kept his ruthless pace, making your head spin. "So close, please don't stop!" You moaned out.

He placed wet kisses all over your neck as he mumbled against you, "Me too princess." His grip on your hips was unforgiving, you could feel the bruises coming in but you didn't care, it felt so good. "Fuck."

The knot kept getting tighter and tighter, you could barely keep up. Before you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck. "Fuck, Quinn!" Your body spasmed in his arms as he kept fucking you through it. You saw stars as it washed over you.

Soon, he was cumming into you too. You both just sat there for a few seconds, catching your breath. Quinn gazed at you and he couldn't help himself getting hard again at your fucked-out state. He let out a chuckle as he shook his head playfully, "Didn't know you were into me like that, until... that."

"Didn't know you had a weird "Cap" kink," you retorted teasingly as he laughed, laying his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, you and me both."

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

I’ve always thought it would be fun to be a seat-filler at award shows, and now I can’t stop thinking about sitting next to a flirty Pedro Pascal.. (especially since they say you aren’t supposed to talk to the actors!)

The idea of him introducing himself (as if he isn’t a famous actor), sharing candy he snuck in with you or trying to make you laugh while on air and having to shoo away the award show employees that try to intervene. Him just being smitten with reader the whole night.. okay, I’d *love* to hear your take if it interests you!

Hi Nonny dearest, sorry it took me so long to respond, I just had to get my thoughts together because I LOVED this idea so much!! So here we go, hope you like it.

The Seat Filler

Pedro Pascal x Reader

A/N: here's another one, hope you all like it. No hateful comments please. Again I gotta shout out @ziggyrocket for the support ❤️. It's 6:32 in the morning, apparently I don't sleep like a normal person, I'm on my second cup of coffee, so any typos or whatever are my bad... and Maxwell house coffee's.

Warnings: none (well, corny jokes I guess)

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

You had signed up for this gig half on a dare and half out of curiosity. Being a new sign-up, you hadn’t expected to be called in right away, but yet, here you were, in a borrowed gown, in a theater mixed with some of the biggest stars and regular people just like you: seat fillers. 

You remembered the main rules the director told you: 1) look like you’re enjoying yourself, always smile and 2) most importantly DO NOT talk to the actors, meaning the actual celebrities. You nodded and murmured your understanding along with everyone else who was there to work as fillers, not really thinking anything of it. What celebrity would want to talk to me anyway? You mused as you took your seat.

You looked around the theater, excitement flooding through you at the idea of being in such a place surrounded by people you had admired from afar, in magazines, and online. You took a deep breath to steady yourself; you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. You glanced at the empty seat next to you on your left and wondered who’d be in it.  On your right was another filler and on their right was another empty seat.

The filler next to you leaned over slightly and whispered, “Who do you think they’re gonna put next to us?”

You shrugged. “No idea, hope it’s someone good.”

He nodded in agreement, then a look came over his face as he glanced over your shoulder.  You turned your head to look and you blinked hard as you recognized the man coming towards you, and taking the vacant seat next to you. While the man next to you was busy getting settled,  you glanced back over at your fellow seat filler, whose jaw had semi-dropped. You both exchanged excited looks, then you nudged him lightly with your elbow and he shook himself, cleared his throat lightly and sat up. You both faced forward, determined to be on your best behavior. 

Unfortunately for you, your newest seat mate had different ideas. Pedro knew the whole deal with seat fillers and how they were told not to speak to anyone. But he felt a mischievous streak go through him when he saw you glance at him briefly. 

“Hi,” he said, taking his seat. “I’m Pedro Pascal.”

“Hi,” you said back, nervously glancing around to make sure that no one saw you speaking to him. 

The two of you smiled at each other, before you turned back to face the front. He took a few seconds to study your profile as you sat there, determinedly facing the front, sitting as still as a statue. 

He glanced down and saw that your elbow was resting on the shared arm rest. With a small smirk, he placed his on the arm rest too, bumping yours. 

You looked over at him, smiled awkwardly and whispered a hurried, “Sorry,” before moving your arm and facing forward again.

After a few minutes, you placed your elbow back on the arm rest, and, noticing that, Pedro, bumped your elbow again with his. You moved your arm again. And then a few more minutes later, you placed it back again, only for him to bump you again. After the fourth time this happened, you looked over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and he just smiled innocently at you.

A few minutes later you felt him shift next to you, you looked over and saw him pulling out a bag of Skittles. You tried to hide your smile, but he noticed and nudged you slightly and offered you some. You looked around, making sure that there was no one watching, and then you held open your palm and he shook some of the candies into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered and popped a few into your mouth. 

A little over an hour into the show, you could feel him getting restless next to you. You figured the sugar had gotten to him. After the Skittles, he had pulled out a candy bar, broke it in half and shared it with you. He fidgeted in his seat, tapping his fingers on his knee and the seat. You tried to ignore it, but you had to admit it was more than a little distracting.

“Are you okay?” you whispered hurriedly to him.

He turned to you and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you though?” you asked, gesturing to his jiggling knee.

He smiled. “Yeah.” But his knee kept jiggling, you had to suppress a laugh at that. 

He noticed you struggling to keep a straight face, and decided to aim the restless energy he had at you. He was going to make you laugh, really laugh, by the end of the show. His mind was made up.

He thought for a moment and then he leaned over to you, “Psst, hey.”

“Yeah?” you answered looking straight ahead.

“I have a question.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Why did the bicycle fall over?”

You were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I said: why did the bicycle fall over?”

“Uhh, I don’t know. Why?”

“Because it was two tired.”

You turned to look at him after that, he laughed at the look on your face.

“That was corny,” you said, shaking your head, but pursing your lips to keep from laughing.

“Oh, that reminds me of another one,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He looked around,  cleared his throat, and then asked, “What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”

You shook your head and shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to say anything but wanting to hear the punchline, you turned to him.

Barely able to suppress his giggles, he answered,”Aw, shucks!”

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh you felt escaping your lips.

“Okay, one more,” he announced. 

“Oh, lord,” you groaned.

“It’s a good one, I promise.”

You waved your hand slightly for him to go ahead, knowing he would anyway.

“Okay, why are pirates called pirates?”

You bit your lip trying not to laugh. “I don’t know why?”

He leaned closer. “They just arrrr!” he whispered the last word in a bad pirate accent. 

You couldn’t help it, you snorted, then quickly covered your mouth to stifle your giggles, but he’d heard it, and he smiled at that.

“Good one right?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, oh my god, that was bad, but…” you couldn’t finish as a fresh wave of giggles overtook you. Your shoulders shook with your suppressed laughter.

He smiled and laughed along with you. For the rest of the ceremony, he would lean over and whisper comments about one person’s speech, or another’s outfit, nothing malicious or mean, just something to make you smile. And he always had a bad joke or two to whisper to you. 

By the end of the program, your cheeks were hurting from all the smiling and your stomach was sore from the laughing. You couldn’t help it, a few had escaped, luckily it was during the jokes the emcee told, so it looked as if you were enjoying the show. Truth be told, you couldn’t remember what had happened during the show, or who had won which award. If someone had quizzed you on it after, you surely would have failed; but you felt it was worth it because being seated next to Pedro had made it the best night of your life. You hadn’t laughed that hard, or enjoyed yourself that much in a long time.

After the show was over, you headed out with your fellow seat filler.

��You seemed to really be enjoying yourself,” he said as you filed out into the lobby.

You nodded with a huge grin on your face. “Yeah, I did.”

“I could tell,” he said, nodding, “what was he saying to you to make you laugh so much?”

You shrugged. “Oh, just a few jokes, and comments that’s all,” you said lightly.

He looked at you curiously, but when he realized you weren’t going to elaborate he commented, “Lucky you. The one they put next to me was on her phone the entire time.” He shook his head. “At least you got some entertainment.”

You two chatted for a little more, making plans to grab a late dinner with him and some of the rest of the seat fillers. Before you could leave, however, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

“Okay, I have another one,” you heard Pedro’s voice in your ear before you could turn around. “Just thought of it.”

You looked at him. “All right, go on.”

“Which bear is the most condescending?”

You started laughing then answered, “what?”

“A pan-duh!”

You burst out laughing along with him. “Where on earth did you even hear these?”

He shrugged. “Internet.”

“They are so bad,” you said, still chuckling.

“And yet, you laughed. Therefore they did their job,” he pointed out.

“True enough,” you agreed, “thanks though.”

“For what?”

“Making this event… well, eventful. I was prepared to be bored out of my mind, sitting there like a statue, smiling a fake smile the entire night.”

He smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I could help. So, what are you planning on doing after this?”

You shrugged. “I was gonna grab something to eat with some of the rest of the seat fillers…”

“Oh, okay, I'm doing the same.” He nodded and looked away. You noticed that for a second he looked slightly nervous, but before you could get a good look, his face cleared and he turned back to look at you.

“I guess I should let you go then…” you said, turning to catch up with your friends.

“Wait, one more question.”

You stopped and looked back at him. “What's up?”

“Well, you know, I have a lot more jokes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, and, well, all my friends and family have heard them. But you haven’t, at least I’m pretty sure you haven’t….”

You nodded. “I haven’t, I don’t think.”

“Good, well, I shall have to inflict them upon you, you know, if you don’t mind. Maybe over dinner tomorrow?”

You thought for a second. “I don’t mind at all,” you answered with a huge grin.

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃

pairing: aemond targaryen x daemon's daughter!oc (dad!daemon targaryen x mom!reader au)

summary: with the help of her soon-to-be husband, alyssa discovers a secret about her mother.

warnings: for better understanding you should read the how I met your brother oneshot. pure fluff honestly

author's note: based off this ask i received A LONG TIME AGO OMG IT HAS BEEN YEARS 😭 i hope u can still read this, nonnie... this is really short sorry but i really like it and i hope y'all enjoy.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

dad!daemon x mom!reader au masterlist

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓ ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

In the expansive library of the Red Keep, the soft glow of candlelight danced across the rows of ancient books and scrolls. Alyssa Targaryen sat at a large wooden table, her silver hair arranged neatly as she pored over an old, leather-bound tome. Beside her, Prince Aemond Targaryen, her soon-to-be husband, flipped through a stack of documents with focused interest.

Alyssa had been intrigued by the history of House Martell for some time. Today, she was deep into a volume detailing the lineage and achievements of Dorne’s great families. Her lilac eyes scanned the pages with a growing sense of curiosity.

A couple days before that moment, her brother Maegon was telling her story their uncle and father had told him, about the day their father, Daemon, had met their mother, Lady Y/N. A fun fact about the story that her brother relates, is that old and sick Viserys, shares some hints on the dornish heritage of the Lad-, no, Princess Y/N. Daughter to Qoren Martell, the Prince of Dorne and Lord of Sunspear, something that neither Alyssa or her brothers had knowledge of.

She knew better than to question her mother about that. And when she tried to talk to her dad about it, he had dismissed her saying that she should be asking Y/N.

Now, the bookworm couple were trying to find some vestige of Y/N's heritage and family history in some of the scrolls and books at the grand library.

“Aemond,” Alyssa said suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet, “look at this.”

Prince Aemond looked up from his reading, his lavander eye curious. “What is it, Alyssa?”

"I think I've found something," Alyssa’s fingers traced a family tree she had uncovered in the book. “this here—Nymeria, the Rhoynar Princess. And look, her descendants...”

Aemond leaned closer, his interest piqued.

Alyssa’s gaze was fixed on the page, her voice trembling slightly with excitement. “I’ve been following the lineage, and as Nymeria’s bloodline continues through House Martell, look–”

Her finger moved further down the tree, connecting to her mother's name, under Qoren Martell's, the Prince of Dorne. “This is my mother’s father... Maegon wasn't lying, she truly is a dornish princess!”

Alyssa frowns, trying to understand why anyone had never mentioned that fact to her or her brothers before, or why didn't her mother went by the "princess" title anymore.

Aemond looked at her with a mixture of surprise and understanding. “It appears so. You’ve uncovered a significant piece of your heritage.”

"Why would they cover this from us? From me? She..." Alyssa chuckled, remembering her childhood, "My mother knew how much I used to admire Queen Visenya when I was younger, and how I wanted to be a warrior like her. And now... I discover I'm a descendant to Nymeria Martell. I'm connected to her legacy."

Alyssa’s expression was a mix of awe and determination.

Aemond reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, caressing her skin with his thumb. “And you are right to be proud. Nymeria was a great leader and warrior. I could say you are the best of both worlds, my sweet.”

Alyssa’s eyes sparkled with a new sense of purpose. "This knowledge... it gives me the strength to forge my own path. I want to do something great, Aemond. I want to be someone known..." she murmured, looking up to her betrothed's orbits.

As they continued to study the ancient texts, Aemond could see the resolve in Alyssa’s eyes. He knew that this newfound knowledge would empower her in ways he had not yet fully understood.

“Perhaps,” Aemond suggested thoughtfully, “we should learn more about the Martell history together. There’s much we can draw from it. Maybe one day we could visit the place so you could meet your grandsire.”

Alyssa grinned to his thoughtful proposal, but snickered humorously “And we'd fly to Dorne? Perhaps we could spend some time there after our wedding. I think they wouldn't mind seeing Vhagar again.” She joked as they both laughed.

As they continued their research, the bond between them deepened, strengthened by their shared pursuit of knowledge and the powerful heritage that now united them. In the quiet of the library, Alyssa and Aemond found not just historical connections but a profound sense of purpose and partnership, ready to face the future together.

[whispersoftheton]

Hi, so I have request for Anthony (I know, how unexpected :D )

I was basically thinking about something similar to Penelope and Colin.. Maybe he and reader were friends for a long time, then she hear him speak badly about her and leave London without a word, only to return later (maybe next season?) Anthony doesn't understand what is going on, maybe he has been writing her but she didn't respond. She tells him, that she heard him and doesn't want to talk with him ever again (I just need that angst, ok?! :D ) And of course Anthony is man who would give up easily, so he starts sending her flowers, stealing her from other suitors.. You can basically write anything you want at this point with any ending. Thank you for reading my request and if you decide to write it, I am going to be looking forward to it :D Have a nice day!

Hello nonny! I'm sorry this took me so long, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: friends to lovers

Word Count: 903

The light glimmered through the glass windows and reflected off the gold-rimmed tea cup sitting upon the pristinely decorated wooden table. Anthony sat in his reading chair in the corner of the otherwise quiet room as he turned the page in the ragged book in his hand when he felt something fall from one of the pages at the far end of it. A flattened, parched rose petal landed on his lap, etchings sketched onto it worn over time—your initials. And there it was. Yet another piece of you slipping between his fingers. The brief memory of your tendency to leave small reminders in scattered books across his library when you were young for him to find as he advanced in his readings—something he carried so fondly in his heart, now a painful reminder of your absence. Suddenly hit with a pang of guilt as he recalled the events that led to your untimely leave. Flashes of the season's final ball, a glimpse of your dress, as you hurried past him while he attempted to catch up to you, not knowing that it would be the last time he saw you for some time. "Gentlemen, there are much better options out there I am sure of it. I would never court her." He flinched at his own words, cursing himself for being so cruel toward someone who had shown him nothing but kindness in the time you'd known each other. He'd had months to ponder on that night, dissecting it in his mind day in and day out. A stack of unsent letters in the corner of his desk haunted him. He'd managed to send a couple, but when no response came, he found it pointless to continue. Still, that did not stop him from writing; never-ending apologies and still-to-be-kept promises lined every letter, hoping you'd find in your heart to forgive him one day.

It wasn't long before a fresh season dawned, with eager eyes from the ton on who would be picked the new diamond. Young ladies everywhere prepared themselves to find their suitor while mamas set targets for the latest eligible bachelors. Violet's notice of this afternoon's garden party was received with a disgruntled huff from Anthony as she brushed him off and continued about her day. The entire Bridgerton family's attendance would be even more significant now with this season's most eligible bachelor looking for his Viscountess. However, Anthony was more prepared for empty conversations and blank stares from barely appealing faces that meant nothing to him than he was to pick a wife from the ton. Nonetheless, he would sign his name on a few dance cards and put on a show for his mama until he could slip out unnoticed. Or at least that was his intention.

You stepped off the carriage onto the gravel floor, the natural light from the night sky glimmering on your dress cascading around you. The queen's ball was one of the highlights of the social season and the perfect moment for you to make an entrance back into society. The last couple of months spent traveling with family was exactly what you needed to move past last season's 'incident.' Your nerves struck at the thought of seeing Anthony tonight. Typically, seeing him would be the only way to get through such events, but after what happened, you weren't sure you wanted to see him at all.

The days passed, and a handful of suitors visited your home. Each greeted with your elated mama as you entertained what felt like an eternity of dulling conversation. No matter how much you tried to engage with them, your thoughts were consumed by none other than Anthony Bridgerton, mainly because your time with these gentlemen was often interrupted by him barging through the door unannounced with an exquisite gathering of flowers in his hand and inserting himself in conversation until the other gentleman was forced to leave. It wasn't until the last suitor of the day was rudely interrupted by one of Anthony's antics that you decided you'd had enough. You politely apologized to him before shutting the door and turning toward Anthony, who sat smugly on the sofa.

"Must you interrupt every time there is a suitor in my home?"

"Oh, was I interrupting something? I had not noticed." His arrogant tone only irritated you further.

"Then why? You would not court me; you made that very clear the prior season. Why will you not allow me to pursue any of these fine gentlemen? Why is it that you insist on ruining my life?"

"Because I care for you!" The outburst caused your breath to hitch. "I have cared for you for as long as I can remember."

"Anthony..." You weren't sure what to say. The words you've been waiting an entire lifetime to hear from the man you'd been in love with for as long as you could remember had your chest feeling like it could explode any second.

"I know I have made a fool of myself and do not deserve your forgiveness, much less another chance. But I will spend every day proving myself to be the man you deserve. If you'll let me." You weren't sure when he'd gotten so close until you felt his thumb skim your cheek, wiping away a slipped-away tear. The delicate touch sent shivers down your spine as you leaned into it. "I love you."

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ao3

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