#and so i project it onto him 😍

[chururiii]

Hear me out but i truly feel like sakura would be the bf who would def be so down to join you for yoga

LIKE GUYS DO YOU SEE IT

We already know hes flexible af, so honestly i feel like the class would be so fun to him to just keep in shape. And more importantly!!! He gets to spend time with you which i believe would make him totally down for yoga classes.

He might be embarrassed if hes the only guy but he aint gonna let smth like that stop him.

And if you have to get close to him, touch him, to correct his posture 🤭 well i feel like he would see it as a plus (he will be red as a cherry though)

[mcrdvcks]

Hi! I have a small request with Logan Howlett. I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader and Logan are putting up Christmas trees together (with their kids if possible) and it’s just so heart-warming, so domestic life, so cozy, so tooth-rotting sweet, so hunky husband material, and AAAAAHH—! #needthat 😍🥰🩷

Deck The Halls

Summary: You and Logan decorate for Christmas with your kids.

Word Count: 2k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: sorry if this took a bit too long anon! i had to listen to quite a lot of christmas music while also being stressed that finals are next week and having like 2 final projects due friday that i haven't started... anyways, i hope this is what you wanted!

(you can imagine any logan for this it's not specified. and thank you for 800 followers!)

warnings/tags: laura!!, reader and logan have a biological kid, fluff!!

Laura propped open the door, the cold chill rushing inside as you lugged the tree inside. Sierra, who was already inside, her beanie slipping down onto her forehead, her gloves a tad bit oversized.

“Careful, you’re going to scratch the walls,” Laura said with a smirk, standing off to the side with her arms crossed.

“I got it,” you huffed, struggling to balance the massive tree as it scraped against the doorway. “If someone actually helped instead of supervising, this might go faster.”

Logan appeared behind you, a grunt escaping him as he took the tree from your hands like it was nothing. “That someone’s right here.”

“Show-off,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling.

Sierra toddled over, her beanie nearly falling into her eyes as she pointed dramatically toward the corner of the living room. “It goes there! Right there, Daddy!”

“Bossy, just like your mom,” Logan teased, earning him a playful glare from you.

“You better be glad it’s Christmas,” you shot back, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Otherwise, I’d make you do all the decorating by yourself.”

Laura leaned against the doorway with a grin. “I vote we let Dad string up the lights. He’ll get all growly when they tangle.”

“Keep it up, kid,” Logan warned as he hoisted the tree into place, his tone gruff but laced with affection. “You’ll find yourself untangling them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Laura replied, grabbing a nearby box of ornaments. “I’m just saying, you’re the one who’ll probably break half the bulbs.”

“Okay, let’s focus,” you cut in, handing Sierra a tiny star ornament from the box.

“Laura said she’d lift me up so I can put the star on top!” Sierra announced, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

“Laura said what now?” Logan arched a brow at Laura, who shrugged, completely unbothered.

“She asked. I said sure,” Laura said, bending down to tug her boots off. “I’m strong enough. She doesn’t weigh that much.”

“Not the point,” Logan grumbled, shaking his head. “We’ll handle the star. You two can do the ornaments.”

Sierra pouted dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out in protest. “But Laura’s more fun! She said she’d spin me around so I could hang the ornaments way up high.”

“Logan, it’s Christmas,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Let them have fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She falls, and I’ve gotta listen to Sierra scream and you yell at me for letting it happen,” he replied dryly.

“Dad!” Sierra gasped, looking scandalized. “Laura’s not gonna drop me. She’s a ninja.”

“Pretty sure ninjas don’t decorate Christmas trees,” Logan muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

Sierra turned to Laura with a grin. “See? He didn’t say no.”

“That’s not—” Logan started, but you cut him off with a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Let them have their fun. We’ll supervise,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anything breaks—”

“Nothing’s gonna break,” Laura interjected, already hoisting Sierra up in her arms. “We’ve got this.”

Sierra let out a delighted squeal as Laura lifted her, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Logan grumbled under his breath, something about how Christmas was supposed to be “calm, not a circus.”

“Relax,” you said softly, leaning against him as you watched the girls. “This is what Christmas is about.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t,” you rested your head on his shoulder. “Now, let’s get those lights untangled,” you spoke, moving toward the box of decorations.

“Why do they always come out of the box like this?” he muttered, pulling out a jumbled ball of lights.

“Because you never roll them up properly,” you teased, pulling the end of the strand from his hand.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who packed them last year,” Logan shot back, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Details,” you said with a grin, carefully working the knots apart.

Across the room, Sierra’s laughter rang out as Laura spun her in a slow circle, letting her hang ornaments on the higher branches.

“Faster, Laura!” Sierra squealed.

“Faster, and you’re gonna go flying,” Logan called over his shoulder, his tone a mix of warning and humor.

“She’s fine, Logan,” you reassured, giving him a playful nudge.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Daddy!” Sierra yelled, her voice full of glee. “Laura’s a ninja, remember?”

“That’s what worries me,” Logan muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

“You’re such a softie,” you teased, looping a section of untangled lights around your arm. “Admit it—you love watching them.”

He grunted but didn’t argue, his eyes softening as he glanced toward the girls.

“You gonna help, or am I doing all the work over here?” you asked, holding up the strand of lights.

Logan reached for it, his fingers brushing against yours. “I got it. Don’t need you getting zapped if there’s a bad bulb.”

You rolled your eyes but let him take over, watching as he started stringing the lights around the tree. His movements were precise but slow, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You do realize it’s not surgery, right? Just wrap them around,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Keep it up, and I’ll let you finish,” he retorted, shooting you a look.

“Touchy,” you teased, stepping back to admire the tree. “But hey, it’s looking good.”

“Duh!” Sierra chimed in, still perched on Laura’s shoulders. “That’s because we’re helping!”

“Helping, huh?” Logan said, pausing to glance at her. “You’re just supervising, same as your mom.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped, feigning offense.

“Yeah, Mommy’s the boss!” Sierra chimed in, sticking her tongue out at Logan.

“Boss of what?” Logan countered, his tone playful. “Boss of making me do all the work?”

“That’s marriage, honey,” you replied with a smirk, leaning over to kiss his cheek again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck.

“Alright, I think we’re done!” Laura announced, setting Sierra down gently.

The little girl ran to you, beaming. “Did we do a good job, Mommy?”

“The best,” you said, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Tree’s not even plugged in yet,” Logan pointed out, but the soft smile on his face betrayed his words.

“Then plug it in,” you challenged, nodding toward the outlet.

Logan grabbed the cord and bent down, pausing dramatically as if he were about to detonate a bomb.

“Just plug it in, Dad!” Laura said, rolling her eyes.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

Sierra gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s so pretty!”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around Logan’s waist as the girls admired their handiwork.

He glanced down at you, his expression tender. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Admit it,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder. “This is your favorite part.”

He smirked. “You’re my favorite part.”

“Ew! Gross!” Laura groaned, but you caught the smile she tried to hide.

Sierra giggled, clapping her hands. “Kiss her, Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re full of ideas tonight, huh?” Logan said, his gruff exterior melting as he leaned down to kiss you softly.

The girls’ laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

---

After the girls were in bed and asleep, you and Logan sat on the couch, your feet propped in his lap while you cradled a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands. The faint glow of the Christmas lights reflected off the window, giving the room a cozy warmth despite the cold outside. Logan had his head tilted back, his eyes half-closed, one hand resting lightly on your shin.

“You good over there?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

He cracked one eye open, smirking. “Tired. You and your Christmas tree schemes wore me out.”

“Schemes?” you repeated with a mock gasp. “Excuse me, but I distinctly remember you being the one who insisted we get a real tree this year.”

“Yeah, and I’m regretting it,” he muttered, his hand absently rubbing your ankle. “Needles everywhere. That thing’s gonna shed all over the place.”

“You’re such a Grinch sometimes, you know that?” you teased, taking a sip of your drink.

He snorted. “A Grinch who carried the tree in, set it up, and tangled with those stupid lights.”

“Hey, I untangled half of those,” you shot back, nudging his side with your foot.

“Half? More like a quarter,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to set your mug on the coffee table. “Fine, maybe a quarter. But I provided moral support, which is arguably the most important part.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but his tone was warm. “Moral support.”

You leaned back, reaching out to cup his face with one hand. “Admit it. You had fun tonight.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you. “Yeah. It wasn’t bad.”

You laughed, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “That’s as close to a compliment as I’m gonna get, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Before you could pull away, his hand caught your wrist. In one fluid motion, he tugged you down until you were sprawled across his chest.

“Logan!” you yelped, laughing as you tried to balance yourself. “What are you—”

“Getting comfortable,” he interrupted, his hands settling on your waist to keep you steady. “You’re the one who started it.”

You propped your elbows on either side of him, grinning down at his smug expression. “Started what?”

“Touching me. Flirting. Trying to make me all soft and mushy.” His voice was gruff, but his hands rubbed soothing circles into your back.

You raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I was just being nice.”

“Sure, nice,” he drawled, leaning his head back against the couch cushion. “You’re always up to something.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before settling your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, his warmth chasing away the lingering December chill.

“Impossible, huh?” he murmured, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Guess I am,” you replied softly, closing your eyes. “Lucky me.”

His chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Yeah, lucky you.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You let out a contented sigh, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest.

“You know,” you said after a while, your voice muffled against his shirt, “you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”

“Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no heat in his tone.

“It’s true,” you teased, lifting your head to look at him. “You’re just a big softie, Logan. Especially when it comes to the girls.”

He gave you a look, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Keep talking, and you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you quipped, grinning as his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck.

“Both,” he said, pulling you down for a kiss.

The moment was unhurried, warm, and completely yours, a rare pocket of peace in the chaos of life. When he finally pulled back, his lips brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” you whispered. “Big softie.”

“Go to bed,” he muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with affection.

“Only if you carry me,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

He groaned, but his arms tightened around you. “Fine. But if I throw my back out, you’re explaining it to Laura.”

“She’ll just say I’m bossy,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan stood effortlessly, holding you close as he made his way toward the bedroom. “That’s because you are,” he muttered, his voice low and full of warmth.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Mom, I am a rich man || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

Summary: Fans have always speculated that Tom was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Tom’s socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 341

A/n: anyone studying law atm? 🙋‍♀️ ALSO THANK U SM FOR 6K AHHH THATS INSANE!!!

Divider by @pommecita

“I did it!” You slightly furrow your eyebrows at the text message your boyfriend sent you before clicking onto the link that he sent. It was a 2 minute interview that he did while at one of the premieres for his hunger games movie.

Tom looked insanely good in his tailored suit, exuding confidence as he engages with the interviewer. Cameras flashed around him, capturing the glamour of the event, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride for your boyfriend.

The interviewer, a charismatic host with an air of familiarity, turns his attention to Tom, eager to delve into the behind-the-scenes of the blockbuster. “Tom, how was the filming process for ‘The Hunger Games’?” She’s asks, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

Tom smiles, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Oh, it was fantastic. The whole cast and crew brought so much energy to the project. But what made it truly special was having my family here. They visited during filming, and even my girlfriend, who took some time off uni to be with me. I greatly appreciated that.”

Your heart swells with warmth at his words. Tom, ever the supportive partner, acknowledges your sacrifice and commitment to being by his side during this whirlwind experience.

Your 2 months in Berlin with Tom was a great opportunity to take a break from all your uni work, and of course, spend some much needed time with your boyfriend. The revelation that he has a girlfriend elicits a gasp from the woman interviewing him.

That video goes viral on the internet. With Tom’s fans searching the internet for anything that could lead them to finding out who Tom’s girlfriend is.

With hard digging, fans discover your insta page. Your posts containing photos of your life as a law student at Yale and fans were pleasantly surprised to find never seen before photos of Tom that you’ve posted.

y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth and 2,941 others

this months dump!

view all comments

yourfriendsusername: 😍😍

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!

yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂

user1: omg so this is Tom’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS

user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?

↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE

user4: eh, she’s mid

↘️ user5: studying at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭

user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂

user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Tom Blyth? Damn girl. Teach us ur ways!

user8: THE LAST PICTURE AWEE

user9: the bouquet behind his back- the way she’s looking at him- my single heart cannot 😭✋

user10: studying in Yale is such a flex oml. And studying law too? Imagine being able to say, yeah my mom’s a lawyers. COULD NEVER BE ME. 😃

~

tomblyth

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, rachelzegler, phoebedynevor, tomblythupdates and 8,307,163 others

yeah my girlfriend is cooler than me.

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play brooklyn baby by Lana Del Rey 😁

↘️ tomblyth: volume up Alexa!

rachelzegler: y/n’s side eye 🙈

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 👀👀

↘️ tomblyth: side eyed me the whole damn time

user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!

user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆

user3: what’s a uni student doing dating an actor like Tom Blyth?

user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏

↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO YOU

↘️ user6: UR SO LUCKY TO CALL TOM UR MAN.

↘️ user7: nah, he’s actually my man.

user8: crying. screaming. throwing up.

user9: it’s happening 😭 Tom finally posting about his gf

[kiss4noo]

dating roulette – n.rk (masterlist) . ˚ ౨ৎ ⊹

꒰ 🤍 ꒱ A NISHIMURA RIKI [니키] ​​SERIES!

genre. smau (social media au), comedy, fluff, angst, romance, best friends to lovers. .˚⊹ pairing. non-idol,,best friend riki x fem reader. ໒꒱ warning(s). profanity, kys/kms jokes, poor attempt at humor. <//3

synopsis .ᐟ you have horrendous luck with men… and your best friend knows this. so, when you ask him to set you up with a guy, he immediately agrees– except, he secretly likes you. in attempts to do what you’ve asked of him, he sets you up with his friends, sabotaging every date you go on: until you finally agree to go out with him.

status. ongoing! updates. every 2 to 3 days. (attempting) start. 11.04.24

꒰ 💌 ꒱ taglist. open! comment / send an ask to be added!

@nshmuras @wonsdoll @pshbites @greentulip @roarr-ki @chiaki-nanami-aesthetic @sol3chu @rikidaze @lelestarmy @17ericas @who-tf-soddhi @yangjungwonnie (bold cannot be tagged)

꒰ 💬 ꒱ mi note. i've had this idea cooking for a while, and I'd like to try giving a shot at writing a smau!! therefore, this will likely be my next, most focused project. please look forward to it! i'm posting this to generate some excitement hopefully.

profiles : goof troop + pay up or dni!!!

ch 1. – you want… me? to be ur wingman?

ch 2. – chat i’ve lost all control of this aircraft.

ch 3. – first date! kinda nervy 😍

ch 4. – wdym he said he’s breedable.

ch 5. – no bbg i’ve got U. trust

ch 6. – onto a new man #playerera

ch 7. – it happened again, wish i was patrick star.

. . . more to come!

[juuuulez]

🔥 | kinktober #12: subspace, steve harrington.

another late post but i CANNOT be normal about this after LITERALLY JUST LEARNING THAT JOE KEERY IS COMING TO A FESTIVAL IM GOING TO 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 I AM GOING TO SEE HIM 🩷🩷🩷 WITH MY EYES 🩷🩷🩷🩷

this was so random and insane of me to write. eermmmm we’re looking at stoned sex, subspace, sub steve 😍 and cockwarming and just ARRRGGG

i need a boyfriend so bad this is some hardcore projection someone fucking sedate me

-> prompt/kinktober masterlist <-

your lips drag across steve’s skin, not biting, just leaving warm kisses in their wake. his chest and neck are flushed red with exertion, your bodies slick with sweat, a sticky heat between you.

“please, please s’just— little more..”

what steve is begging for is unclear. his mouth has latched onto your shoulder, getting spit practically everywhere, his tongue lapping at your skin.

the blankets have long since been ruffled, piled recklessly on the bed. it’s soft and calm and quiet, a dull light coming from the television, some soft music from a nearby record player.

you’ve certainly been more stoned, before, but this is still nice. it drapes over your nerves like a fluffy blanket… or maybe that’s steve, actually, his arms dragging you down towards the bed.

“steve,” you sigh out, barely resisting as he rolls you over, his body weight resting over you. “too heavy.”

but he doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. whatever comes out is a low mumble, a heavy sigh leaving his body. when he does speak, it’s another muffled “pleeeaaasssee” into your shoulder.

it’s safe to say that steve harrington is totally, completely, utterly stoned.

and with about three orgasms on top of that, his mind feels fuzzy. like static rolling around in his head, making his skull mushy, feather light.

you rake your hand through his hair, giving a gentle tug, just enough to lift his head from your chest.

his eyes are glassy and red, lips all pink from the heavy making out. it makes you grin, bringing your other hand up to cup either of his cheeks. his skin is warm.

“what is it?” you ask in a whisper, “what do you want?”

steve let’s out another of those heavy sighs, and his whole body sinks into you. “please,” he mumbles again, “j’s lemme put it inside..”

because, somehow, steve is still achingly hard and leaking against your thigh. he’s probably been for this entire time, despite the utter exhaustion on his features.

you pout at his pitiful face, gently rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “baby, i think you’ve had enough. aren’t you tired?”

and steve practically groans, letting his head fall back down onto your chest. his lips work against you, pressing messy kisses into your skin, leaving a trail of spit. he moves down, and down, until his mouth finds the swell of your breast.

it makes you sigh, closing your eyes. it feels good. so good, that you can’t even complain when steve palms at your ass, his big hands lifting your hips to line his weeping cock to your entrance.

the slide is easy, with your combined releases, sticking to your cunt and thighs. it feels perfect, like home. steve must think so, too, for he finally settles down, his arms moving up to wrap around your torso.

he’s certainly too stoned to even think about thrusting, fucking you properly. that’s okay. you continue to gently card through his hair as the pair of you lay there, steve’s weight acting like a nice blanket, his breathing steady and calm, his cock nestled deep inside.

both of you fall asleep like this.

[ronearoundblindly]

Yield

Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

a vague sequel to Warning Signs (not required to read before this)

Summary: Steve takes your mind off a recent tragedy for the team.

Fluff, hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort, references to death and trauma but not explicit, SEVERAL sweet kisses 😍. Adjusted (from its languishing, dusty doc) for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' Celebration using the elements: hand kink--although this work is for all-ages--and "ew gross, that's not what I thought would happen today"--except I fudged that a bit. You're welcome even though, yet again, no one asked for this! WC ~2.3k

It’s a dreamless sleep, the kind that feels like you blinked but hours passed. Awareness comes long before awakeness.

Your head aches. You feel as shriveled and puckered as you were laying in the bath tub, soaked but thirsty, letting water steadily drip between your paralyzed, parted lips for so long yesterday. Your eyelids are sandpaper, but they’ve not opened yet.

Minutes tick by—perhaps another hour—and you attempt to remember what’s happening or happened.

Two people died. Gone. Brought back in the belly of the same plane you arrived home in, they are now lost, lost somewhere dark like this, lost like you are for so long as you can stand to keep your sore eyes closed.

Well…you are home but not home all at once.

You’re in a bed, that’s clear, but the pillow isn’t your own. The scent is off. Heavy. Musky. Not unpleasant. Somehow still familiar.

You tick through snapshots of sullen faces trying to remember.

Over you lies a soft, thick blanket. Again not yours. Again pleasing. It has heft. It comforts without constraint.

The hardest sensation to figure out is your hands.

They are…sticky and weighted. You’ve sweat and clammed up upon yourself. Your hands are not clasped in each other. Why the feeling then?

It’s cold—or cool, rather—but not beneath the blanket. The contrast to the battlefield’s heat yesterday is stark though no less repressive. The external pressures of fighting have turned inward, pushing your emotions to the brink. Your won the fight, and after, you lost the war with yourself.

You remember losing that war alone, so what are you holding?

Finally, you look.

There’s someone else in this foreign bed, one of the faces from the sorrowful slideshow behind your eyes.

Steve Rogers sleeps beside you, recognizable only by his size and his crown of golden hair because his head is bent, his hands encasing yours. He’s pressed himself to the bundle of fists between you.

The numbness has yet to lift. That’s why it all reeks of distance and projected celluloid. Yesterday happened but only in that far away world playing on the back of your skull. All you can process as real is that he’s right there and you are right here, simultaneously.

You try harder.

You try to flood color and sound onto the memories until they come closer.

The mission, the deaths, the flailing sense of loss, the unending bewilderment of “what do I do now?”: they become…undeniably tangible. They happened, and they happened to you. You heard the captain promise to stay with you. You heard him…

He called you ‘sweetheart.’

That’s the first thought that stirs something soft among the sharp recollections. That’s when existence returns.

Rogers came to your room. He wouldn’t leave until you were safe. He took care of you, and he called you ‘sweetheart.’ In your months of working with the Avengers, the captain has never once casually assigned an endearment. He says ‘ma’am’ more often than not and barely has nicknames for the teammates he’s worked with for a decade. 

Everyone is Agent, Sir, or Miss. Your last name has always been enough.

You were none of those things last night. You survived a horrid battle, a crippling loss, and a solitude which almost drowned you; it’s silly to admit how he heals your wounds with one simple word.

Sweetheart. A warm cocoa hug to your chest. A gentle embrace. A guidance back toward the light.

Maybe he’ll never say it again. Maybe he meant nothing by it. He only tried to help you. He only wanted you to feel better. Since no one else was around, it’s an easy assumption that Steve simply—

Rogers.

He’s Captain Rogers to you. A coworker. A teammate. That’s all.

It’s difficult to even call him a friend because the man is so professional, so shy.

That shy professional probably saw you naked last night. Whoops.

You shimmy deeper under your covers, tilting your gaze down to the shirt and shorts Rogers dressed you in—his shirt and shorts—but those movements stir the man with your hands.

In a split second, you clamp your eyes shut again and wait in the dark, fighting not to twitch at the dry-sand prickle.

He shifts with a quiet scratching of the sheets, and he sighs, the hot air grazing your knuckles.

One traitorous eye gives a curious peek.

Rogers’s head cranes back to show his sleepy smirk.

“Morning,” he rasps, blinking slowly. He ducks away again to yawn, his face stretching to life, before softly continuing. “How you feeling? Can I getcha anything?”

You tuck your lip under and say nothing. Words have left you.

After allowing the pause, Rogers lets go of your hands, cold flooding your damp skin.

“I’ll get us some water then.”

He doesn’t rumple your blanket. He doesn’t hold eye contact. He just dutifully rolls out of his bed and gets two glasses.

The paralysis is making you quake slightly. What do you say? Will he take you out of the field for this? If not already, will he bench you from how you act next? How will you act next?

He leans a knee onto the still-warm spot he abandoned and tsks.

“Come on. Couple of sips and I’ll leave you alone. Sleep all day if you want, but first—“ He inches the offered water closer.

You rake your eyes up his arm until meeting baby blues.

“Do you mean—“

Rogers’s phone rings. “Shoot, sorry. One second.” He plunks both cups down on his bedside table and answers quickly. “Yeah, Sam, I—no, no run today, I think… Seen her? Um, yeah, she’s…she was—“ glancing back at you over his shoulder, he pulls his hand over his mouth in thought “—I’ll look in…okay, sure thing. Talk later.”

You’re offered another smile and chance at water. “Where were we?”

“So this is where you go to be—“

The failed observation echos in the garage while Captain Rogers kneels by his bike (one of half a dozen). You can’t say ‘alone’ since you’re here, too, so you awkwardly kick your feet over the edge of the steel table he told you to sit on.

Captain America is important enough to be assigned one of the coveted, private garages along one side of the jet hangar, and he assured you, no one bothers him as soon as he closes that door. Where else was he supposed to take you? It’s hot outside, just like yesterday, your room is still trashed, and his room is not exactly neutral territory.

Rogers simply smiles, ticking his head to one side. “Hand me that socket wrench?”

Quick as a rabbit, you hop down, and suddenly, as his fingers drag the cool metal handle from yours, you get it. You forgot all about everything for a split second.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispers, smile still gentle, eyes still brilliant blue.

Your insides swoop more than the mid-air jump from your perch. You tuck your lip in your teeth to stifle the glow threatening to shine out. It feels wrong. You can’t be happy today. You shouldn’t. It’s not right.

Right?

Twice. Twice now he’s slipped. Maybe. Yesterday is mostly a blur. It’s hard to imagine he means to say that. It’s not like the captain to be kind. Well, of course Steve is kind, but in a professional way, a distant way. Instead, this is a tender sort of kind, tenderness like holding onto your hands while you sleep.

He’s watching your every reaction, probably to make sure you don’t fall apart again, probably to make sure you don’t shut down entirely, but you’ve a new focus: him.

“Help me?” Rogers asks, tongue swiping out, nervous. “If you want,” he adds with a shrug.

You shrug, too, but sit on the floor next to him.

He exudes unending patience, explaining the basics of what he’s working on, mentioning nothing when you clearly zone out. You lose whole minutes to either staring at him or staring at nothing. More flashes of yesterday overtake your vision from time to time, even though your eyes are open.

“Should have taken you to the infirmary,” he mutters as you shake off your latest blip.

You drop the tool dangling in your limp hand, and despite knowing there’s an object falling to the concrete floor, you jump violently at the clattering it makes.

You grip at your temples, shielding your face. “Perhaps you should have.”

A warm, steady hand lands on your knee.

“I can finish up here and take you.” He hurries to do something on the bike, and you’re sure he’s about to send you for a psych eval.

That’s the last thing you want. You have to convince him you are fine, better than fine, strong.

You grab for his wrist to get his attention back, but the move makes him twist a cap too hard and thick brown oil comes steaming out all over both of you. It drips from your forearms down and splashes from the drip pan up, the flow quickly tapering off with a thick glug from the pipe.

“Ew, GROSS,” you blurt without thinking. You resist the urge to shake it off. No need to cover more of the room in your shame. “Sorry, Cap. I—That was—“

“No, no.” He’s just laughing, thank goodness. “My fault. Was gonna change that anyway…in a couple months. You alright?” He waits for a nod. “Let’s get this mess off at the sink, yeah?”

Rogers carefully points to the corner. You maneuver onto your feet and alternate raising and lowering your arms, thick rivulets threatening to paint the floor if you let the oil run too far in one direction.

“Wipe what you can off with the towels first.”

You sort of knock the roll over and nudge it across the counter. A strategic elbow turns up the tap and depresses the soap dispenser.

“‘Steve’ is fine,” he says as he massages lather over your palms, “by the way.”

You’re damn right Steve is fine.

Your breath catches while he continues to work the oil off your skin, avoiding eye contact.

After a minute or so, rubbing around and down your fingers, specifically scrubbing along your nails, he clears his throat.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you—“ Steve concentrates on circling each knuckle “—horrible as that sounds.”

You take control of the hand helping you, applying pressure as you feel a small tremor rattle the fine bones, unable to see the clear truth of his words beneath righteously long lashes.

He lets you wash him for a while, rubbing between his fingers, scrubbing along his nails, lathering over his palms.

His voice is so quiet, a low breeze from the distant, retractable ceiling letting in the world.

“Not supposed to say that,” he rumbles, inches away at most, “diminishing as it is to the dead.” Steve halts you and slides his hands up your forearms. “But that’s the point, yeah?” He looks up finally. “Focus on the living…”

You’re frozen, hanging on every word you’re convinced he can’t be saying.

“Is that a quest—“

Steve’s long lashes descend to narrow his path, supple lips grazing yours for the briefest moment before a curt “no.” He moves in for a proper kiss then, head tilting to take full advantage of your shock. A new shock. A different kind of shock from the one you’ve barely recovered from since…

Twenty-four hours. Horror. Sweetheart. Limbo. Sweetheart. Bliss.

He’s right. The heat of him signals life and passion, desperation and spirit for the best kind of danger: a leap of faith from the heart.

A sweet heart.

It’s at this shocking and romantic turn that you realize, you’d follow him anywhere, just as he’s followed you onto a doomed battlefield, into your chaotic mind, into a cold and lonely shower. You had nothing but doubt; he offered nothing but hope.

Your weight leans into the clutch of devoted sinew and reverent tendons. Steve takes that as a welcome encouragement.

One day it might be him or it might be you, and as difficult and painful as that would be, it helps to focus on who is still here. Both of you. Together. Now.

He’s lavish and indulgent, intense because his wet hands can’t pull you closer. His tenderness and decency saturate every atom of connection between you. Each generous touch conveys something undying and pure.

Your hold on each other slips in the running tap when Steve get a little greedy, his body pinning yours to the rim of the sink.

Immediately, he apologizes, retracting into a shell of chivalry and sympathy.

You swallow to compose yourself, minimal effect achieved.

After a fair few thundering heartbeats pulse past you ears, you manage, “that’s not what I thought would happen today.”

The baby blue irises are the picture of horror. “Bad? No?”

Steve steps back only once before you follow.

“Why me?” you counter softly.

He huffs in his infinite patience with you and rolls his eyes in disappointment with himself. Steve hangs his head, propping his arm on either edge of counter nearest him. A dark, bitter chuckle escapes before he finally confesses.

“Because every other day I feel very little, but with you, I want so much more.”

Is this how you looked to him yesterday? A raw wound begging for help in blinding light? Did he have this fear that he couldn’t offer enough?

It is enough though. It has to be enough to try for what you want, to live even in kindness and duty. He’s taken a step, and so can you.

You smile, close the remaining distance, and whisper one word into Steve’s waiting mouth.

Promise—

Question or statement, it doesn’t matter, or perhaps, you’ll figure it out on any other day. Today it simply means you're both alive.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Hope this turned out okay and that you enjoyed the fluff! If not, don't worry. I've got a smutty lifeguard!Steve one-shot in the works, too!! Tags will be in a reblog since they've been so wonky lately.

[lemonskinktober]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 > this one’s defo my fav (so far) 😍 and i don’t even like scara that much!! (anymore) also not proofread!! :(

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 > smut w afab! reader, degradation, and sensitive-ish things, non con (ew)

it was quite obvious that scaramouche despised you.

he hated the way you spoke, the way you always smiled so kindly… it was oh so annoying.

and today, today especially… you were being quite the bother.

***

“venti!” you call out to one to the boy who was holding your notes in the air.

“stop that!” you whined, earning a chuckle from him.

“oh fineee..” he said, handing you back your notes.

“hmph.” you pouted, cheeks flushing.

scaramouche just watched intently from his desk.

why would you even get so… close to venti? he wasn’t anything special, was he?

i mean sure he could sing but… did he really have any other traits that could make your blush so… cutely?

he scoffed.

why should he care? he doesn’t care about useless items like you…

***

you were hanging out with stupid venti again, working on some sort of project before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

“tch…” scaramouche’s eyes narrowed.

“something bothering you…?” his partner, xiao, asked quietly.

“i have to use the restroom… give me a moment.” he said coldly, getting up from his seat and stomping over to the bathroom.

you were inside, washing your hands in the sink before the door burst open.

“what’s wrong with—?! scaramouche…?” you raised an eyebrow at him, why was he here?

“hmph…” scaramouche began to approach you, his hand gripping onto your shoulder.

“get your ass back in that stall…” he whispered in your ear before shoving you back into the stall and locking it.

“do you know how much you irritate me?” he asked, his hands ripping off your pants/skirt.

“what… scaramouche what are you-”

“shut up.” he cut you off, taking off his own pants as well.

“or do i have to make shut up myself?” he asked, his hands trailing up and down his cock.

“you… i-”

before you could say anything more he plunged his erected member into your pretty little mouth.

“cant… speak now can you?” he said with a smirk, groaning.

“oh fuck… keep using that pretty little mouth of yours.” he said, his hands wrapping around your neck.

“you know… i tolerate you a lot more when you don’t speak — in fact you should just stop speaking at all.” he murmured, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth.

“especially to that venti… i mean what’s so special about about him?”

you let out a muffled cry against his cock, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

“yeah..? trying to say something, slut?”

“mmh!” more tears streamed down your pretty face…

and scaramouche completely indulged in them.

“keep crying… yes cry for me whore.” he said, a maniacal lust in his eyes.

you let out another cry, making him groan.

“you want me to cum inside, y-yeah… that’s what you want.” he whimpered, his thrusts becoming faster.

you were still trying to fight back, however… he really did have a firm hold on your neck, leaving powerless against him.

“ah-” he let out a melodic moan before thick ropes of his cum bursted in your mouth.

“mmph…” your eyes fluttered shut as he finally pulled out of you.

“not a word about this, okay?” he asked, holding you by the chin.

“o-okay…”

he grinned, flicking at your forehead.

“your my little toy now.”

tag list > @izzalovesdilfs , @dainslief-when-playable

special tag list > @zxdksimpo , @seph-rae

all work belongs to pri, please do not steal!!

[dontexpectmuch]

(if ur still taking requests) smth abt jude surprising a very stressed out student for their bday! i'm projecting horribly here 😍😍

author: happy (belated (?)) birthday!!!

—

you feel your phones vibration against your desk, gently tickling your skin. it pulls you out of a trance you didn’t even know you were in, your eyes now focused on the device.

a tired smile stretches on your lips, the contact name making you chuckle.

[from; The bestest best boyfriend]: open the door !

sighing, you get up from your chair and move to open the door of your small apartment, the sound of your steps as the only sound inside.

you open the door, immediately being met by a huge bouquet of blood red roses and red balloons, judes happy face the center of your sight. stepping to the side to let him enter, you take the flowers from his hands and move them to your face, the gentle scent of roses meeting your nose.

“hey, baby.” jude leans down to press a kiss on your lips, pelvis moving closer to press against yours.

you greet him back, though you see his eyebrows draw together, forehead creasing.

“you okay, love?” jude pushes your body towards your living room slash working space, placing the sweets tied to the ballon onto the table, taking the flowers from your head to put them on your desk.

you sigh for the nth time today, leaning against his body, slightly relaxing as you feel his warm hands caress your back.

jude speaks up again, voice laced with confusion, “babe?”

“‘m so tired, i don’t even know what to do.” you explain your behavior, though it doesn’t even come near to what you actually feel.

on top of being stressed and tired, you start to feel even worse because you can’t be happy to see your boyfriend. he doesn’t deserve to be greeted by your gloomy self like that, but you also know that he would never be mad at you for your feelings, immediately trying to help wherever he can.

“why aren’t you ready?” he asks, siting down on your couch and pulling you along by your wrist, positioning you on his lap.

“for what?”

you feel his hand move up and down your thigh as you lean against his body, head resting on the crook of his neck as you take in his manly scent, his aftershave tingling your brain in a way that you wouldn’t dare to put into words.

jude gasps, pushing your head up to hold it between his hands, thumbs drawing circles against your cheeks.

“your birthday dinner? you wanted to eat at that restaurant when we visited liverpool?” his words making bells ring in your head.

you loudly gasp as you stand up, “jude, babe, i,” your heart sinks as your eyes skim over his face, “i forgot?”

he tucks you down again, your legs caging his as you come face to face. “did you forget your own birthday?”

though jude smiles at you, thinking that this situation is quite funny, a moment the two of you would remember in your graying days, you can’t help but feel sad, closing your eyes as you put your forehead against his shoulder.

“exams are stupid.” you mumble, finally understanding why so many people have been calling you throughout the day.

you two sit on your couch for a while, small talk being exchanged between you. that is, until jude decides to get up to get your present that he left by the door, your heart’s rate picking up as you watch him sit next to you, a big bag placed on your lap.

“you didn’t have to-“

he puts his finger against your lips, successfully stopping you. “just, i hope you like it.”

you smile at him, thankful to have him in your life before you look down to pull out a rectangle box from the bag. your eyes widen as you are greeted by a white box, the familiar apple logo making tears sting your eyes.

your voice is soft, looking at your boyfriend who shyly looks at you through his lashes, “jude, i, oh my god, thank you so much.”

you move towards him to hug him tight, gratitude expressed through soft kisses spread over his neck.

“you said that your laptop was slow, and how many breakdowns you had because of it, so i thought, well, yeah.” he explains, his hand resting on your cheek once again, warmth radiating from his eyes.

your heart beats against your rips, heat creeping up your neck.

you knew that is an incredible person, someone who cares about his loved ones, giving as much as he can without expecting anything in return. you knew that he pays attention to everything you say, almost hanging on every word spilling from your lips, never making you say anything twice, but right now, fuck.

right now you feel loved in a way you never knew that existed, you feel so warm, so safe and comfortable that you wish to bathe yourself in this feeling for eternity, never once thinking of leaving this feeling. all the negative energy, all the thoughts of failure and the pain of final season wash away as you continue to look at your boyfriend, him returning your gaze of adoration twice as much.

“i love you.” you whisper, afraid of losing the moment.

jude leans forward to kiss your forehead, engulfing you with his scent.

“i love you even more.”

LETS FUCKING GOOOOIOOOOOOOO

(exams make me question my existence.)

[drunkenbagel]

Hi,can u do prompt 3 and 5 with pedro cause i loved the last one u did😍

thank you for reading!! hope you like it :) xx

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actor/actress gn!reader Word count: 1,9k Contents: mentions of minor injuries (slight blood mentions, fainting, bruising, etc), mostly fluff

“Can you repeat my line again? I'm not my best today, sorry”

A girl behind the cameras held your script up and repeated your line once more. At this point you were feeling overwhelmed, having to repeat the short scene so many times just because your mind didn't focus. Even more since this was a big project, so on top of that you felt ashamed and anxious.

Finally, the scene went ahead and everything went as planned, getting to the next scene, which was a fight one.

One, two three, four. One two, three. One, two, three, four. You counted your steps and movements, rehearsing. One, two-

“Watch out!”

You heard the yell before the cracking sound, and while you looked up you saw one of the lights come off of the ceiling.

Uh-oh.

-·-·-·-

Pedro had heard from some people on the crew that someone in the studio next to theirs had an accident, and immediately spiraled into worry. You were in that area. There's many people there, it can't be her. The studios are huge. Yeah, no. It's definitely not her. Yet he couldn't concentrate. He threw the script into the table and hopped off the chair, determined to ease his worries.

“I'm goin' to the other studio, alright? I'll come back before the break is over” he said to one of the crew members.

He started to walk to the door that led outside, and he noticed how more and more people were whispering while walking from the other studio to the one he was in. That made him more nervous, and he started walking faster. When he pushed the door, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a few ambulances and a crowd of people standing around all over the place. That's when he saw a couple of paramedics wheeling you to the ambulance. Bloody.

His heart sank and he swore it skipped a few beats. Before he could register it he was running to the ambulance, shoving some people around to get inside before they carried you away. He jumped in.

“Sir you can't be in here unless-”

“I'm family”

The other paramedic shut the door after receiving a nod from the one that was on the truck with you, and started to drive to the hospital. He couldn't do anything but watch as the man started to change the bloody cloth he was pressing onto your forehead, which was reeling with blood. Pedro took your hand.

“What's going on? What the hell happened?”

“Apparently a few of the stage lights fell off and landed on some people, most of them without major injuries, except for her” he answered, while putting some oxygen tubes around your nose and trying to stop the head wound from bleeding. “Got the worst deal, seems like it broke some ribs, got hit pretty bad on the head. We'll know more about the internal injuries when we get from the hospital.”

The ride felt like they took the longest way to the hospital. Once they arrived, they wheeled you back out and into the ER.

“Sir, you can't go in there” a nurse said, stopping Pedro with a hand on his chest. He just watched as they took you to the area where only staff could cross. He pointed at the seats a few meters away. “You can wait in the waiting area”

If he thought the ride was the worst, he was completely mistaken. The wait was killing him. He got a few calls from the director and colleagues, asking where he was, but all he could do is give them some half-assed answers of why he wouldn't be coming back. The anxiety was eating him. He couldn't stop pacing back and forth, picking at his nails, waiting for someone to bring any news. When a doctor finally called your name, he looked up and almost ran to him.

“How are they?” he asked anxiously.

“Stable. There's a minor concussion, but nothing too serious luckily. They have been admitted to the hospital, I can take you to the room, if you'd like”

He followed the doctor to the room, and when he opened the door, his heart sank to his stomach. There you were, unconscious, bandaged and bruised, machine beeping steadily.

“They may not wake up for a few days, but that is normal. We'll be monitoring them constantly” she said, seeing the anxious look on his face. “You can stay as much as you'd like. Got a chair, the bathroom and the small sofa. Figured you might want to sleep next to her”

Pedro thanked the doctor and walked over to the bed and delicately brushed your hair away from your face, seeing the bruising on one of the sides. Fuck, you looked battered. He pulled the chair closer and took your hand on his, waiting for you to wake up.

-·-·-·-

Everything hurt. Even with your eyes closed, you felt like a truck had ran you over. Then you remembered the accident. Ah, shit.

You slowly opened your eyes, trying not to be blinded by the white light. The beeping sound was drilling into your head, making the heavy headache worse. With a sigh, you went to push the button to call a doctor and see if they could turn it off, but you couldn't, since your hand was feeling very heavy.

Please don't be a cast.

When you looked at it with painfully squinting eyes, you found the source of the weight: Pedro was laying his upper body on the side of the bed, and his hand was on yours. You couldn't help but smile. He looked so soft with his curly hair everywhere, lips parted in a slight snore. You ran your free hand by his hair, looking lovingly at him. He looked quite tired and a bit dishevelled, too. That made you frown. You looked behind him to find a blanket on the small sofa. Since when was he here? Since when were you here?

Like as to answer your questions, a nurse came in with a chart to check on you. When she looked up and saw you awake, she smiled.

“Hey, glad to see you've woken up. Got ya' man here worried sick” she said as she approached you and started looking at your screens.

“If it's not much of a bother, can you take the beeping machine off? It's killing my head” you mustered, trying to seat up in pain.

“Oh sure sugar, you got a big hit to the head, and these things can be annoying, but just glad you're awake” she said as she turned the machine silent. You sighed in relief. “How you feelin'?”

“Like I got smashed by a giant stage light” you answered with smile, sighing. You clutched your side in pain, noticing the bandages. “What day is it? How long have I been here?”

“You got here a almost a week ago, been sleepin' for the entirety of it. But the handsome man you've got there has not left your side for a second. Got here at the same time as you in the ambulance.”

“He got hurt too?” you worriedly asked.

“Oh no sugar, he got here with you as a visitor. Poor thing was worried sick when you were in the staff area being attended to” she said with a smile. “You've got a good one there. Is he your husband?”

You lowered your eyes to look at him and unconsciously smiled. “No, no. Gosh, I wish. Just... Uh, just my best friend”

“Well if my boyfriend waited that long without leavin' my side I would definitely put a ring on him” she said with a cheeky smile. “But anyways, how's your head? Any dizziness, nausea, blurry vision?”

“No, only a bit of ringing in my ears at first but that is gone now. Just the hammering headache” you answered as she took out a small light and looked at your eyes.

“Well, your pupils are workin' fine so that's a good signal. Now that you've woken up, we'll keep you in observation for a little while more, but you should be good to go in a couple of days.”

“That's good” said a raspy voice on your left. You turned your head to find a sleepy looking Pedro, still holding your hand. “Hello darlin', good to see you're finally awake”

You smiled and hugged him as the nurse left the room.

“Why are you here? Nurse told me it's been almost a week! You should have gone home” you scolded him, but with a soft voice. “And your filming! Have you really been here all this time?”

“Yeah. And I'm not gonna say sorry for it. Went home once to get some clothes, the old ones were starting to smell” he said with a smile. “You'd be damn crazy if you thought I would leave you”

“Have I ever told you how you're the best friend in the whole world?”

“Sometimes, yes” he said with a chuckle. “Um, about that... I kind of heard you and the nurse”

Oh no. You felt your cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

“I- It was a joke, I... I was joking” you said, laughing nervously.

“What if I told you that I didn't want it to be a joke? If you meant it seriously?” he said, swallowing hard, holding your hand a bit tighter. “Would you... What would you say to that?”

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get an answer out, just stammering. “I- uhm, I-”

Pedro felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest with all the loud thumping in his ears. Maybe he shouldn't have asked? Maybe it was a joke? Unfortunately, there was no turning back.

“What would your answer be if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

You froze. “W- what?”

He took a deep breath while closing his eyes. When he exhaled, his eyes met yours again. “I love you. I've liked you for a long time. Probably since the first time we met. This accident made me realize that I can't stop denying it, and I- I just need to know. If you don't, I'll never bring it up again and I'll be your friend. I can do that. I will, if that's what you want me to. And, shit, I know this is a lot to take in, and probably not the best of places to confess, but I can't go on anymore without an answer”

There was a silence between the two of you. Not a sound came from your throat, mouth staying agape. Pedro sighed, and he let your hand go with his eyes closed.

“I underst-”

“Ask me again”

He opened his eyes to find you looking at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. “I... What?”

“Ask me again”

Pedro hesitated. “Would- would you like to be my girlfriend?”

The couple of seconds that you waited to answer felt like an eternity to him, but seeing your smile turn into a grin and a little laugh made his heart stop.

“I thought you'd never ask. Come here” you said, yanking him by his shit to your level, and joined your lips together.

It felt electrifying. Kissing him after so long of being just friends, so many fantasies, so many dreams, felt like the best thing ever. When you softy pulled away and opened your eyes, you were met with his big brown eyes almost tearing up.

“Hey” you said, cupping his face with one of your hands. “Are you alright? Wanna take it back?”

“Never in my wildest dreams.”

[lovexjoe]

can you write a vacation sex for jacob please❤️

Vacation Love 

Jacob and Y/N was captivated by the scenery of Cancun from their ocean view dinner. He missed her so much while filming it was the longest they been away from each other since they started dating back in 2018. Y/N was getting more gigs from clothing and makeup companies so she’s been filming her own content almost everyday. After he wrapped up filming, he laid in his hotel room, flipping through his photos of them. Two months without each other was brutal. He missed her touch, her scent and mostly her love. He booked a surprise trip without even asking her, hoping she doesn’t have any work related projects for the next week. 

He sends her a text, knowing it’s 1am in London right now. 

“You and Me? Cancun Mexico! 👩‍❤️‍👨Your plane is booked, better start packing ✈️ is at 10am. Can’t wait to see you, my love 😍 ” 

That risky text was the best one he has sent yet. All her projects weren’t due for the next 2 weeks so he had all of her attention. She hopped on the flight now here they were. After a long day of ATVing, ziplining and swimming in cenotes. They were 4 tequila shots in and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The waitor cleared out their plates and they continue to enjoy their drinks. 

“I’ve missed you so much, I feel like I’ve said it a million times since you landed. But it’s true.” He intertwines your fingers, just the slightest touch was giving you fanny flutters. You missed him THAT bad. You started to rub your leg against his and he clears his throat. 

“Babe, don’t you still want dessert?” He tries to maintain a straight face, but he biting back a big smile. 

“I do, but I rather have you instead…” You give him the most seductive look he couldn’t think of anything else except 

“Waitor! Check please.” 

He scans the hotel card and he waste no time pulling you into the room. He lips meeting yours, the both of you hungry for each other. Two months was too long. 60 days without each other’s touch, you could say you two were desperate and that’s totally fine. That’s what comes with being in love. His beard tickles your neck as he bites and sucks on your sweet spot. 

He sits on the bed, pulling you into his lap and facing you towards the floor length mirror. Pulling your dress up, revealing you had no panties on the entire time and he smirks. 

“Fuck you look so good baby. I missed this pussy.” He gives your pussy a slap causing you to gasp. His palm hitting your clit was a different sensation. The liquor consumed at dinner was taking over and the yearning for each other was too. He spreads your legs out wider using his legs as you lay your head against his chest. His slowly starts to play with your clit, then slipping two fingers inside earning a moan. 

“Watch yourself baby. You are a sight to see” He already has you dazed, you open your eyes and oh my was he right. It was a sight to see. He continues to work his fingers inside you, bringing you to your first orgasm. Nothing compares to his touch, not your fingers or toys. You removed your dress fully before straddling him. 

“I think it’s time you watch closely, cause you’re a sight to see my love” This is the first time you’ve left Jacob speechless. You slipped his pants and boxers off: ripping his button up open. Both of you laughing as you hear the buttons hit the floor. You positioned yourself and slipped him in, earning a moan from him. 

“Fuckkk Y/N” you looked behind at the mirror as he spreads your cheeks taking in the glory of your tightness around him. 

“Baaabyyy you’re stretching me out” You hold onto him and you start to bounce faster. 

“I missed you baby... uhhh fuck just like that!” he gives your ass a slap as he watches you through the mirror. He doesn’t think he can hold on for long. He holds you close as he fills you up with his release. Both of you sweaty and panting against each others skin. 

“Round 2?” Y/N says causing Jacob to laugh. 

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95 @cardi-bre91 @hopetookourvibe

[stgosupremacy]

Hi so this is me ranting about Ash being Goh's n01 supporter in project mew 😍 (as he always is ofc)

"I wanna join. Project Mew! For sure!"

love that cute sneaky side view

"You know what? I'm gonna cheer you on with all my might!"

the way he said you sounded a bit like it was a thank you for goh always cheering on ash during his battles 🥺 (it also sounds like I'm analysing too much again looooooooollllllllllll)

I always thought this was Ash just being dead supportive to Goh like he always is but he meant this so much 😭😭😭💗

"You're coming too, Ash?" (the hand on goh's shoulder omg and ash looks so cute idfjkmf)

"I promised I'd always cheer you on, didnt I?"

everyone smiling around them lol (they so know whats going on)

"I'll clear the mission for sure!"

"That's the spirit, Goh!" (always so supportive 🥺💖)

STOP HE'S SO HAPPY TO BE ALLOWED TO GO WITH GOHH AW 🥺

"You failed. You'd be toast if I hadn't saved you."

"Wait just a second, what are you talking about failed!?"

i love how as soon as ash sees goh's sad face he gets his protective boyfriend mode activated 🥰🥰🥺

"Good for you, Goh! I'm fired up about this too!"

i am so tempted to make a post on how touchy these guys are bc oh my god they are so touchy 💀💀 and hellllllll ash was not lying at all about being fired up about project mew, the entire trial period it was almost like ash was taking the missions, bless him 💖😂

"I'll help any way I can!"

it's so sweet to me ash constantly reminds gohof this fact <3

look at danika leaning in the back guys she knows

god ive talked ab this episode far too recently to rant about it here but 🥺😂

"You can count on us! Dont let it win!"

🥰the way ash looks at him

"Plus, I'll be there, you'll be fine!"

no words from me just pure SUPPPPPPPPPPPORTTTTTTTTTT is radiating here (and also goh looking like he's crushing bad)

"Only the challenger is allowed in this mission."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

bless the way he seems so fed up when danika says he cant come- LIKE CMON CAN THEY GET ANY CUTER??? 😭

but as soon as goh says this.....

"No worries Ash, I'm sure i'll be succesful!" (his smile is so sweet)

"You're right Goh, just make sure to pass that mission!"

...Then ash is totally supportive of it if Goh's fine with it too 💗

"Right?" 🥰

"Right!"

yeah....sorry i had to include that it was so cute

"Goh!"

"Dankia, did you do this on purpose!?" the way ash is so stressed for goh for literally no reason but his safety, enter: PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND MODE ACTIVATED AGAIN WOOOOOOO

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN GOH DOESNT GET ANY TOKENS STOPPP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the way ash is looking at him so intently...i cannot 💀💀💀💀💀

"This time I'm going by myself."

"WHAT? HOW COME?" 😨😨 (that literally deserves to be in caps because he indeed shouted it lol ) he sounds so in disbelief, it's so sweet he just sees going along with Goh everywhere now his second nature 😭💙💙💙

but after goh explaining why, then ash just smiles and wishes goh the best of luck (as he always does bc he's just happy goh is happy)

like

why is this boy so precious

"I made it through!" I SEE THAT BLUSH HEAJDKAJ (it was obviously from excitement but blushing goh is quite rare in ultimate jrnys and he looks too cute when he does it) 😂

"No joke?! Congratulations Goh!"

YAYYYY HES SO HAPPY 4 HIM 🤗🤗

"Thanks to you, Ash!" 🥰🥺💖

"Thanks to all of your hard work!" STOPP LIKE the way how he tries to deflect the praise back onto goh makes me smile every time but yk so does this entire scene at this point

right the way goh ends the call and breathes out as soon as he does is definetelyy not gay at all 🤨🤨🤨 (fr tho they make each other so happy and i'm always living for it....if you havent noticed)

...right i should stop thats enough for today

[bambisnc]

birthday surprise ₊˚.

pairing : taehyun x reader genre : flufffff w a cute wrapping of crack <3 cw/tw : ty panics a lil bit + beomgyu is made to do labour /j + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 783 w (wrote this in one sitting a day before my bio prac hehe) notes : HO LEE SHIT i'm having exams still but ugh how could i not write a lil soemthing for tyun my lil boba eyed bee eff's birfhday 😍🫶 (posting this as soon as it's 00.00 on 5th by my timezone)

when you act super distant with taehyun around a week before his birthday, he’s confused. about your behavior, of course but also his own. he's not like this, he's the rational one, the one with the braincell so why is he overthinking this so much? you're probably just planning something for his special day, he knows that but.. he can't help but feel paranoid.. what if he’s just being conceited in thinking so? what if something's seriously wrong??

then just 3 days before the awaited day you call him up sounding all worried - saying there's an emergency and you have to leave asap and he's left reeling with shock. what do you mean an emergency?? is there a problem at work or at your uni? or worse, did something happen to someone in your family-? he can’t focus at all, practice, meetings with the manager, even his sleep is completely consumed by thoughts of you (though that’s.. not really new~)

and then it's finally the eve of the much, much awaited day. he really wasn't expecting anything, opting instead for an early night. his members were seemingly busy with a "project", which was highly suspicious and should’ve immediately raised alarm, is what he would say if you asked him later and you know, he would've caught onto it right then but busy schedules added to the constant worry about all the upcoming events and ofc you had dulled his senses considerably

but at 11.51 sharp, as if on cue, he hears his shrill ringtone from where it is kept next to his bed. it's beomgyu.

“taehyun, dude”, he says, “there's um,.. an issue. uh, yeah no it's a huge problem. we need everyone in the practice room like right now.” by now of course, taehyun did feel pretty sure of the fact that his members had something planned.. i mean “an issue at the practice room”? c'mon that was a classic, he'd literally used that same line on yeonjun's birthday last year. he’s about to let beomgyu know of this but then he hears their manager in the background.. shit okay, maybe there's actually something wrong? briefly affirming that he’ll be there, he haphazardly dresses and makes his way to the practice room...

...only to find the room dark, as he opens the door and walks in, extremely wary of his surroundings. making his way to the light switches he soon discovers emptiness. the room was completely empty. what the fuck.

he honestly felt so dazed, he couldn't help but just sit himself on the couch, somewhere between wondering if this was a dream and if not wondering why his members chose to inflict such weird pranks (?) upon him. he remains there for a good 45 ish minutes before he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and people, whispering in a way that was not quiet at all.

"shit why're the lights already on??" "oh yeah i called taehyun and told him to come down!!" "what. beomgyu we haven't set up anything. the cake is literally in my hands right now. you're literally holding the decorations??" "oh. huh." "gyu holy shit how could you not know????" "I SWEAR TO GOD." "guys shut up we can still salvage this if we just-"

and taehyun finds himself face to face with a shocked huening kai, an extremely guilty-looking beomgyu, you with so much disappointment adorning your face that one would think this was your surprise party being ruined and rather furious looking soobin and yeonjun.

i'm sure you can picture how the rest of the "surprise" party went. taehyun making some colorful, weirdly specific yet affectionate threats to everyone, you especially - having him worrying over nothing for a whole week, how could you?! he discovers that their manager had been persuaded by all of you to record a little audio clip you could play over call, just to make taehyun a little extra worried and a little less suspicious. well. at least, that definitely worked out huh?

but later when he has his arm around you as you cut the cake into delicate slices and beomgyu attempts to decorate the whole room single handedly, as was chosen to be his punishment, with the rest of his members, offering birthday wishes, sharing past anecdotes of various such mishaps (and it is undoubtable that there were a lot), laughing and playing about, he can't help but think maybe he prefers this more than he would a "perfect" surprise.

next year though, as he tells each of you multiple times, he'd rather it not be a surprise at all. with a smile that quite clearly said that it was very much not up for debate.

[check out my m.list for more <3]

[wowstrawberrycow]

Expanding!

I am really wanting to write drabbles for Elrond and Thranduil. But, before I dive in I've been trying to develop my own head canons for my au. This doesn't mean I will stop writing for Gimli and Legolas though. I adore them far too much! 😍

Here's my head canons! I personally think Elrond and Thranduil would balance each other very well.

Thranduil

Definitely a bi-guy and is 100% a disaster.

Is both Barbie and Ken at the same time, or separately depending on his mood. I say this because I canon him to have a perfect blend of fem and masculine styles that are glamorous. No pun intended (we all know he uses glamor). The way he carries himself is very much like a popular girl at the mall (Barbie) but is athletically masculine (Ken).

100% brat energy.

Can easily be a party 'girl' without that effecting his masculinity in anyway.

I imagine he probably does wear makeup from time to time.

I could see him being a very sexually charged individual.

Has heavy trust issues that cause him to keep people at a distance. I'm wanting to say because he is secretly sensitive he does this to avoid getting hurt.

Overly emotional and overly dramatic. He is the drama king!

He gives me the air of someone who is wildly insecure, with very low self-esteem, and poor body image; who hides behind a hyper confident mask.

After losing his wife (the main form of stability in his life) he turned to alcoholism and hides behind a false party persona.

Is absolutely terrified of anything happening to his son. Is extremely overbearing to the point where he has projected his own fears onto legolas and has accidentally been pushing them (I canon legolas to be a they/them) away.

Tries to be supportive but falls flat because he is a helicopter parent.

He for sure did not let Legolas out of his sight until they were in their equivalent of teen elf years. This made his son grow even more rebellious causing a rift in both their lives.

I think it absolutely destroyed him inside to let Legolas go out into the world in the movies. But, he did so because he had to let go eventually. Hanging on tightly would make him lose his son forever

Will argue with Legolas about leaving the palace to go fight the spiders and other creatures in forest very much the way Ariel's dad does when Ariel goes to the surface in the little mermaid movie.

Definitely needs guidance from a Dom.

He is a single mom. Again this doesn't effect his pronouns.

Trauma survivor with PTSD 😢

Elrond

Also a bi-guy but is not a disaster.

For sure has a responsible dad vibe and will go out of his way for his kids.

In fact, he gives off the air that he's the communal dad. #Dadfriend

family man through and through.

I imagine that he is the type of dad to casually tell embarrassing stories about the 'kids' in his life or anyone he considers his kiddo as well as his own kids that are blood related.

Absolutely is the type who is a teacher as an occupation (child hearder). Teachers heard children right?

Is extremely organized with OCD tendencies.

He always struck me as a paramedic type too, especially if assisting in battle. I mean he is a very skilled healer canonically.

Can appear tired and done with life, but also has a secret streak of dad humor/lame humor.

Extremely patient.

Is very lonely. Life has not been kind to him canonically. And his children drifted away from him, lost his twin and other loved ones too 😢 So I think that is the reason why in my canon he tries to be dad for others. It helps that he's older than most too.

Could be chronically depressed 😢

Is definitely a caregiver type in a BDSM lifestyle relationship.

Wholesome babe

Can be quite the suave Gentleman in private

[kdogreads]

Imagine being Chibs’ old lady (part 2)

Read part one here

Check out my masterlist and follow #kdogreads for more Chibs love 😍

He makes your coffee better than you do

You don’t know how he does it, but every damn cup is the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.

“Two creams, two sugars please!”

“I’ve been makin’ yer coffee for the last decade, darlin’. I know how ya like it.”

He always delivers it in one of your favorite mugs and sealed with a kiss. Even when you are on an iced coffee kick, he obliges even if he doesn’t understand why.

“Ya mean you want me ta make yer coffee, then put it over ice? Cannae understand why, but alright, love. Anythin’ you want.”

When you finally convince him to get an Alexa, he never stops talking to her

“Alexa, what’s the weather like in me beautiful Glasgow?” & “Alexa, play some bonnie music fer cookin’” & “Alexa, tell me what tha’ woman o’ mine ordered now”

Your favorite part is watching him get frustrated when she doesn’t understand his accent. He gets so flustered and cute and finally gives in, asking you to tell Alexa whatever he was trying to say. Of course you oblige, even if you sneakily told her to turn off your Amazon deliver notifications weeks ago.

He brings you a glass of water all the time without you asking

It’s not easy being Samcro’s First Lady, and sometimes you forget to hydrate. Naturally, then, your sweet Filip brings you a glass of water every time he walks into the kitchen or behind the bar. He’ll set the glass down in front of you, not breaking his conversation nor you yours, and wink your way before heading back to whatever he was doing.

He’ll repaint your house as many times as you want

Ever pick a color for your living room, get it all painted, then decided you hate it? Chibby sure knows the feeling. Not that he cares about any color you choose, but he knows it’s important to you to make your shared a home a sanctuary you can both escape to.

“Baaaaaby…”

“Wha’ color am I paintin’ it now, lass?”

And he’ll never complain about it. He’d find a way to bring you the stars if you asked him to.

As much as he does for you, you do just the same for him

There is nothing Chibs could ask of you that you wouldn’t scour the earth to do. Even though he tries to handle everything by himself, he lets you in when he knows he needs help.

Whether it’s running club decisions by you, asking for a hand in the bike shop, passing along the message when the boys pester him for some of your famous cookies, sending you to talk to one of the guys if they don’t have their head on straight, or any other need he could ask you to fill, you happily do so.

He relies on you so much for the mundane, day-to-day stuff like grocery shopping, making sure the bills are paid on time, changing the sheets in the guys’ dorms. He reminds you all the time how important you are to him.

“I couldn’t do this wi’out ya, sweetheart. Dunno how I can ever thank ya for everything you do fer me.”

He’s careful never to project his frustrations onto you

Sometimes he is full up to his eyeballs in club shit, but he tries never to bring it home to you. You’ve told him time and time again that he can rant to you, dump all of his troubles out on the table for you to sort, but he just doesn’t. He can’t make himself burden you with the ugliness he sees. He gladly accepts your comfort and empathy, but he refuses to bring you down to meet the depths of despair his lifestyle pulls him into sometimes, so you drag him up to meet you high above them.

He can’t get enough of you

His favorite look of yours is when you float around the kitchen early in the morning dressed only one of his reaper crew t-shirts. He’ll come up behind you and wrap you up in his strong, thick arms, leaning into you and kissing your temple. You’ll sway in his arms for a moment, leaning back against his broad chest and reach around to comb your fingers through his hair. He can’t help but let his hands drift over your body to your bare thighs, plush hips, your biceps and forearms, the soft expanse of your chest and stomach.

“Are ya gettin’ dressed soon, love?”

“Why? Too tempting for you, baby?”

“Aye, canna focus on anythin’ but this silky skin of yers when yer wearin’ so little, darlin’.”

“My poor baby, so distracted and nothin’ to do about it.”

Of course, you know what you’re doing, and Filip can’t get enough of your teasing.

He’s so possessive of you

Not in the you-can’t-do-anything-without-me kind of way, but in the everyone-is-gonna-know-who-you-belong-to kind of way.

If you go out without him, he’ll probably leave marks just under the neckline of your top, or remind you how good he thinks you look in any of the shirts you have that have short enough sleeves to show off the delicate Forever Filip’s tattoo on your forearm. He’ll kiss your knuckles, lips brushing over your sparkling wedding band, and tell you to have fun. Of course you know there’ll be a prospect or two following you along, but you let him do whatever he needs to ensure your safety. Sometimes he’ll magically show up exactly when you are ready to leave and act like a starved man when he finally gets to hold you in his arms and kiss your alcohol-infused lips. Usually he’ll show up in the truck, not his bike, knowing you’ll probably be too wasted to keep balanced. This gives him plenty of opportunities to whisper dirty thoughts into your ear while he drives about all the things he wants to do to you when you get home.

If you go out with him, he’s never more than an arm’s length away from you all night long. He’ll keep a hand on you whenever he possibly can. A gentle palm on your lower back, his finger tips gripping into your thigh while your seated together at a table, an arm wrapped loosely over your shoulders while you’re sitting at the bar, sometimes it evens ends up a full on grizzly bear hold around your waist the drunker he gets. Sometimes he’ll start pulling you close to him and teasing your ears with all the dirty things he’s going to do to later. Sometimes you make it home before he drags you into bed and shows you just what he means, but other times most of the time he pulls you into an empty dorm room, bathroom, hallway, the car, anywhere he can to remind you how good you have it with him.

And if someone even looks like they might flirt with you… well, god help that man.

[rowarn]

You had me sobbing in the shower over PLM au where reader actually tried to attempt😭😭

Now to project and fix everything because I don't like my feelings being hurt and I'm going to pretend the problems away😍

Maybe as reader recovers in the hospital they try so many times to reach out to Simon. Calling and texting him but to no avail until finally they leave the hospital and tries one last time to call only to realize he blocked their number.

Reader, obviously devastated, tries to find him. Maybe goes to areas they used to go with him (grocery stores, parks, anything to try and find him.)

Maybe as reader starts picking up themselves up and trying to get better, they decide to start writing letters. Writing all of their thoughts to Simon. Telling him they miss him. That they need him. Promising that they're better because they convinced themselves being unstable is what drove him away.

Reader, keeps the first letter they wrote unable to send it. They write a new one, and finally has the guts to mail it to the base where it will hopefully reach him.

Simon, who miraculously somehow receives the letter. He stared at the handwriting for so long, trembling as he flipped the envelope between his fingers but can't open it. Tries everything to get rid of it, throwing it out, burning it, but he can't do it. So he shoves it in the back of one of his drawers.

Reader keeps sending letters, this time more tame. Talking about their life, updates, new jobs, friends. They sometimes write that they miss him. That they hope he's reading these. But even if he isn't it's okay, because they still somehow feel connected to him in a way.

Simon who starts denying mail. Maybe tells someone on base not to give him the letters anymore (idk how this works I'm not a military expert hafsgsf). Now all of the letters reader writes are tossed into a pile in a mail room, collecting dust, but still there.

But that first letter. Simon holds onto it. Sometimes he holds it up to the light, barely able to make out letters from the light passing through the paper. Traces his fingers over the opening.

Reader who does the same with the first letter she wrote for Simon.

SORRY IF THIS IS LONG AND ANNOYING, I WAS SAD AND HAD A VISION AND WANTED TO FIX THE SAD😭😭

I JUST GNAWED MY HANDS OFF OVER THIS!!!!!!! U DIDNT EVEN FIX IT ITS JUST MORE SAD NOW!!!!!!!' WHAT HAVE U DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IS HE EVER GONNA OPEN THE LETTER NOW YOUVE GOT ME INVESTED!!!!!!

[jakeperalta]

i was already annoyed by the travis/taylor situation just because i hate celebrity culture these days but what’s really made me detest even just seeing pictures of them together is the fans. and i mean taylor fans. it’s actually ridiculous how quickly everybody adandonded their morals and ignored everything taylor has said since the beginning of her career about fame and privacy and respect. like they’re openly talking about her sex life (as if they have any clue what goes on between them) and speculating about them getting engaged and making fancams like they’re a fictional couple and crying over him opening a car door and basically wanting taylor to become a football wife

her personal/dating life seems to be as much of (if not more) of the appeal of being a fan than her as an artist these days, which of course is what makes it so exciting for fans that she's giving them so much ~content~ to project onto and obsess over. even though so often it's borderline offensive to her, like it really is incredible how swifties have taken taylor saying "no deal, the 1950s shit they want from me" and "all they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride, the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife" and somehow twisted it into "she only said that because she was trying to hide how sad she was that joe wouldn't marry her" and "omg when will travis propose 😍 she's finally gonna get married 😍 can't wait for them to have so many cute babies 😍 I love her wag era 😍"