#no seriously how are you so good. how. how does one do this

[goldsainz]

# OP81 — LIPSTICK KISSES !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ wearing lipstick ensures you can leave a visible mark on your boyfriend.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ kissing, not proofread.

003. NOTE !

✯ this is a short one but i like it! i need a break from writing longer stuff, and this was the perfect way😁 if you wanna leave requests for oscar or others (check this) you’re more than welcome to 🫶

word count : 466

It’s media day, and you know how busy that makes Oscar. Between interviews, team meetings, and PR commitments—it’s a nonstop whirlwind. But as he steps out of the motorhome in his pristine McLaren attire, you can’t help but catch his attention.

“Wait!” you call, hurrying after him. He turns, his brows knitting together in mild confusion.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice soft but curious.

You close the distance between you, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. “Just thought you could use some good luck,” you say with a sly smile, leaning in.

The first kiss lands on his cheek, leaving a faint mark from your lipstick. Before he can react, you press another below his jawline, just along the collar of his shirt. The final one, bold and playful, ends up just on the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously?” he says, his tone half-exasperated but mostly amused.

“Good luck comes in threes,” you tease, stepping back to admire your work. “You’ll be brilliant today.”

Oscar shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. “You do realize there are cameras everywhere, right?”

“Relax, no one’s going to notice,” you say confidently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the paddock.

Fast forward ten minutes, and Oscar is standing in the media pen, preparing for his first interview. You’re watching from a screen nearby, grinning as you notice the faint marks of your kisses.

His PR manager notices the marks before he does. She pulls him aside, whispering urgently. You can tell from the way his hand shoots up to his neck that he’s finally realized what you’ve done.

“Are you serious right now?” You can almost hear him mutter, his expression a mix of amusement and frustration as he tries to rub at the marks with a tissue. It only makes it worse.

With time running out, he rubs the marks one more time and fixes his shirt, hoping it’ll hide the evidence. But as soon as the interview starts, the first question makes him freeze.

“So, Oscar, it looks like someone’s been giving you some extra luck today,” the reporter says with a grin, gesturing to his neck.

You burst out laughing at the look on his face, watching as his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. Still, he recovers like the pro he is.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve got a very supportive… fan,” he replies smoothly, though his lips twitch like he’s fighting back a smile.

Somewhere in the chaos, Oscar’s eyes flicker toward the camera, and for a moment, it feels like he knows exactly where you’re watching from. His smirk deepens just a little.

You know you’re going to hear about this later, but for now, you’re too busy enjoying the show.

[verushkak70]

I understand what you're trying to do but in my experience it doesn't work

I've debunked literally hundreds of insane, factually & scientifically wrong crap a friend has been sending me off social media since the FIRST orange asshole campaign

It has not made a difference & I recently realized why (aside from, y'know, tens of thousands of Chinese & Russian social media bots gaming algorithms to inject false narratives into the mainstream to influence elections & democracy in multiple countries...)

It's because facts do not matter to him anymore

This is a belief system very much like religion - it might as well be religion

It is impervious to facts & science

Yet this is someone who I once considered highly intelligent & I still cannot understand how he's fallen for all of this except that, deep down, he must have either a hollow core, or a core of hate, that wants everyone else in the world to be as secretly miserable as he is (which I only know because I've known him for decades - since high school - casual observers would never say "this guy is miserable & self-loathing")

Objectively, on paper, he is intelligent or at least was intelligent & high scoring enough to get into Ivy League universities when we were graduating high school (he did not go to any tho; neither of us could afford such universities; we went to the state university that would take literally anyone, at the time, & from which you had to work at getting kicked out)

This was formerly a pro-choice, pro-porn, pro-drug guy who has drunk the Kool-aid - he's still pro-porn & pro-drug but suddenly in the past 2 years, as "throw it back to the states" became the propaganda on X (his favorite social media, ugh), he started saying it should be thrown back to the states

This from a guy who used to say - in his 20s, 30s, 40s - that abortion should be available on demand at drive thrus (which was hyperbole ofc; obvs you can't get one at an actual drive thru; it was the concept of fast & easy access he was championing)

As these right wing evangelical positions have trended on X, they have come up in his speech the past couple of years (really the past decade, but it accelerated like the speed of light once he moved from FB to the post-Musk Twitter/X)

Because I've known him for so long, I've been able to say, "Huh, you never used to say/believe that over the last 40 years... Why the change, & why now?"

& even that does not get him to realize his opinions are being deliberately shaped by propaganda

He will deny it or say "well I always kind of thought that way" & when I say "dude, you've never been shy of sharing your opinions, whether people wanted to hear them or not, especially if not! so why haven't you mentioned this change of opinion until after X became your main source of 'news'?"

That gets evasions & subject changes because the idea that he didn't come up with these ideas on his own is unacceptable

He will share literally fake news from X & when I ask, "OK, I get that you don't trust mainstream media, with good reason; or the government, with good reason; or the medical/scientific establishment, not without good reason; but you'll just believe anything some clown you don't know on the Internet - who could be anywhere in the world despite his "US Navy Vet" trucker hat - says, without question?"

& his response is always subject changes & attacks on mainstream media/government/politicians/parties but never an answer to the actual question because there is no rational explanation & he knows it

& if I call him on the subject changes, he just ratchets up the subject changes & attack rhetoric as if I'm one of those easily offended wilting liberal flowers he can steamroll, which I'm not & never have been, so it's interesting (if sad) that he thinks what works on other people will work on me

Or maybe he just doubles down because there IS no rational explanation, idk

This is seriously depressing me because this guy was my BFF for like the first 30 of our 40 year friendship - my older sisters would call him "our adopted little brother" - & I don't recognize him anymore

The only reason I continue to talk to him, really, is my oldest sister, who passed away a year ago in February, & was a big activist & organizer/coordinator of various (large) protests here, said "don't give up on him, don't fight or argue - just keep listening & questioning" because "he's a good egg"

& honestly he is, underneath all the sourball curmudgeon thorny exterior - the man has never not been there when I needed him & lots & lots of times when I didn't, just for fun

But this is becoming exhausting & I'm stressed out from not literally screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? WHERE IS MY FRIEND, YOU CRAZY POD PERSON WHO TOOK HIS PLACE??"

I'm sorry - I'm just venting, I guess

But please tell me how someone can maintain the cognitive dissonance of a high index of suspicion for the mainstream media, the government, & medicine/science, but not some Joe Blow clown on the Internet - as if somehow that guy (who's probably actually a Chinese or Russian bot) is telling the gospel truth & has a hidden mainline to the secrets of the universe

Because I can't understand it

I can understand it in people who've not had the privilege of university education (my friend has)

or international travel (my friend has, multiple times, with me & others)

or who never left the neighborhood or town where they grew up (my friend did as soon as he could)

I cannot understand it in my formerly skeptical & always shrewd friend

I honestly do not get it 😞

So many people do not understand the relationship between climate change and cold weather.

[sanni276]

*Tim and Kon sitting on one of the couches in Titan's Tower*

*Kon suddenly turning to Tim*: Tim my best bro, you need to help me.

Tim: Sure. What's going on?

Kon: There is this guy I really really like but I just don't know how to tell him because everytime I flirt with him he thinks I am just joking and whenever I ask him to go out, just the two of us he answers me with: "Oh! This and this friend will love that! We should totally all go together.".

Tim internally freaking out: He likes guys? He likes a specific guy? Wait, does this mean I could have a chance with him? No, that's stupid he already said he likes someone else. Does this mean that I'm not even an option when Kon likes guys? No why am I only thinking about what this means for me? I am a horrible friend and-

Tim externally: Well what exactly do you like about him?

Kon *with a soft smile*: Everything. He's smart, somehow handsome and pretty at the same time, he is strong and good at fighting and sometimes he does things that just infuriate me and we argue but he is probably the best thing that ever happend to me and if he asked me to become supervillains and take over the world with him I would so without a seond thought.

Tim *literally crying on the inside because he's pretty sure he could be all of these things if he tried*: Then tell him that. After that say something like "I really like you and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime" If he still doesn't get it after all that then he is probably just not interested in you but too nice to outright say it.

Kon suddenly seriously looking Tim in the eyes: Tim, you are smart, somehow the most handsome and prettiest man i have laid my eyes upon at the same time, you are strong and and so good at everything you do and Rao you infuriate me sometimes but I wouldn't change anything about you for the world because you were there every single time I needed someone and I'm afraid ou are my favourite person and that I would sacrifice everything for you. You are my biggest weakness. My Kryptonite. I really really like you, and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime.

Tim: Yeah. Just like that. I'm sure whoever this mystery guy is will instantly fold. Sorry Kon, I think you're gonna have to excuse me now because Bruce wants me back in Gotham.

*Tim runs away to cry in his room and then mope about his crush for the next 2-17 buisness days*

Kon left behind head in his hands: Dude...Just tell me if you don't like me.

Kon is completly convinced that Tim knows how he feels since he is literally the best detective in the world (Yes. Even better than Batman) and there is absolutely no way he didn't get Kon's confession. Tim does infact not know.

Much to the infuriation and pain of everyone that somehow knows them it takes them another three weeks to realize their feelings are mutual and in fat not unrequited.

Except Cassandra: She had guessed the date excactly right and she won a lot of money. (there was a betting pool)

[witherby]

Absolutely loving the littlest wayne au 😍😍😍😍. Your most recent post made me think. Damien is relieved that mouse doesn't decided to join the bats, but I'd love to know how the other react when mouse reject the robin title.

Keep up the great work seriously you're super talented✨️.

Thank you so much for saying that! I appreciate it!

Bruce and Damian are relieved. He's getting older, and Gotham still needs protectors right now, but the city is getting better. Slowly and steadily, he hasn't needed to patrol every single night anymore. Gothamites are learning to defend themselves. Rogues are dwindling. Not only are you not particularly needed to defend the city, Bruce wants you to enjoy your life without the burden of that responsibility weighing down your shoulders. Maybe, one day, he'll be able to retire and do the same.

Bruce was going to stop recruiting Robins after Tim, truth be told, but Damian was raised with the League of Assassins and needed a more pacifistic outlet for all that rage that blossomed under Ra's Al Ghul, so he almost had no choice but to pass the mantle down again. Your disinterest doesn't offend him, it brings him peace.

Tim, briefly, considers it a waste of potential. You have the ability to control darkness and shadows. The bats operate exclusively in the night. Are you joking? Why wouldn't you want to protect the city with that? A couple weeks later, though, he comes around when he gets home from a days-long mission and wishes he had the time to just lie in bed and decompress for the foreseeable future. He thinks about his lack of free time, and about how he's always thinking about casework, and updating his suit, and picking up his next round of antibiotics because Damian's grandfather took his fucking spleen, and realizes he really doesn't want you doing all of that. It's bad enough you're keeping the secret of your family's double lives as they run around in spandex beating up criminals. You don't need to live a complicated double life of your own, and he doesn't want you to.

Dick is confused. He loves being Nightwing! He defends the citizens of Gotham and Blüdhaven when they can't defend themselves. Saving lives gives him a great sense of fulfillment. (It's the Parentification making him think he's only lovable if he's useful, actually, but 🤫) Dick will try to convince you to give the vigilantism a shot, just in a small supporting role for a bank heist or something, but if you put your foot down and insist you aren't interested in crime fighting, he kinda becomes a fish out of water. You don't want your big bro to be your superhero mentor? You're just his baby sibling and that's it? What are you guys supposed to find in common, now? How does he remain lovable to you if you aren't partners in the field?

He'll come around, but you gotta give him some time. Having a civilian sibling is going to do him a surprising amount of good.

Jason was rooting on you not becoming a Robin. He was prepared to do anything and everything to talk you out of it, including kidnapping you and taking you to his apartment in Crime Alley if need be so your other family members can't influence your decision. He doesn't want you to collect scars like trading cards. He doesn't want you learning how to apply a field tourniquet to avoid bleeding out from a gunshot wound. He doesn't want you getting a deeper glimpse of Gotham's rotted underbelly than you absolutely have to. He doesn't want you to die saving a city that takes and takes and takes and very rarely gives back. You are worth more than what you can do for others, and he was gearing up to talk that lesson into you until he was blue in the face.

So I'd like you to picture him just sagging in his seat, thanking a god he doesn't believe in that you're already unwilling to join their seemingly neverending crusade. Then he's gonna sit back up and ask if you wanna go play video games or something.

[7brownsuga7]

The chase | Satoru Gojo

Thinking about popular, arrogant, player Satoru who has never had to chase a girl for anything. So when you, his stubborn neighbour, give him a reality check, does he succumb to the challenge, or does his arrogance get the better of him?

Gojo has always had the world at his feet. His charisma, looks, and power making him a magnet for attention. Women usually flock to him without him having to lift a finger, their admiration feeding into his confidence. But you? You're a different breed entirely.

You aren't fazed by his cocky smirks, the lazy way he leans against door frames like he owns the room, or the way he casually slips his blindfold up just enough to let you glimpse those hypnotic blue eyes. Instead, you roll your eyes, laugh at his overly dramatic antics, and call him out when his ego gets out of hand. It's infuriating for him, and exhilarating.

Gojo has never had to chase anyone, and he sure as hell doesn't intend to start now. At first, he tries his usual tricks: flirty comments laced with innuendo, exaggerated displays of charm, and that present smirk that screams "I know you want me." But when all you give him in return is a raised brow and a scoff, his frustration is hard to hide.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" he teases one evening, leaning close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne, something expensive and infuriatingly alluring.

"Not playing," you reply, brushing past him without a second glance. Your perfume invading his senses, making him even more crazed. "Just not interested."

And that's the moment Gojo realises he's in trouble. Because now it's not just about his pride, it's about you. The way you challenge him, the way you don't fall at his feet like everyone else, the way your stubbornness sparks a fire in him he didn't know existed.

He starts showing up everywhere you are.

Casual run-ins at your favorite café, unexpected visits during your downtime, and offers to help with things you never asked for. It's subtle at first but Gojo doesn't do subtle for long.

"You know," he says one night, leaning against the counter in your kitchen after somehow convincing you to let him stay for tea, "you're the first person who's ever made me work for it."

"Good," you reply, sipping your drink with a smirk. "About time someone did."

But his persistence doesn't stop there. Gojo begins to push his limits with every interaction.

When you ignore his texts, he will keep on messaging you until you give in and reply. He even resorts to using his infinity to keep you from walking away mid conversation.

"Stop using your powers to trap me, Gojo," you snap, glaring at him.

"Then stop running," he fires back, a rare seriousness in his tone. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. No matter how hard you try to push me away."

And that's when it hits you, he's not just chasing for the sake of the thrill. This is Satoru, the untouchable, the invincible, and he's putting himself on the line for you. His arrogant exterior hides a vulnerability you hadn't seen before, and for a moment, you let your guard down.

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes. "You get one date. Don't blow it."

His grin is immediate, his excitement almost childlike. "Oh, sweetheart," he steps closer, voice low and alluring.

"You're going to regret giving me a chance. Because once I've got you, I'm never letting you go."

And for the first time, you think maybe, just maybe, Gojo chasing you isn't the worst thing in the world.

That one date? It doesn't take long for it to spiral into something far more intense. Gojo's natural charisma was overwhelming enough, but when he's got you to himself, when there's no one else around to act as a distraction , you realise just how dangerous he can be.

The evening starts innocently enough-a rooftop dinner he somehow arranged under the stars, his usual charm on full display. But it's the way his eyes linger on you, his attention sharper and more focused than you've ever seen, that starts to make your walls crumble.

"You know," he murmurs at one point, leaning over the table so his voice is low and intimate, "I’ve been thinking about this all day. About you, about tonight...about how long it's been since someone made me feel like this."

"Like what?" you ask, your voice coming out softer than you intended.

"Like I'm willing to lose." His lips curve into a slow smile, and it's all you can do to keep your composure.

The night ends with him walking you back to your place. Or at least, that's what you thought was going to happen. But the moment you step through the door, his hand catches yours, spinning you to face him.

"You're not going to make me wait, are you?" he breathes, his forehead almost brushing yours.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words are stolen when he kisses you, hard, demanding, and consuming. His hands find your waist, pulling you against him, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body as if his infinity itself were melting away.

"Gojo-" you manage to gasp, but he silences you with another kiss, his lips parting yours with a confidence that leaves you dizzy.

"Satoru," he corrects, his voice husky as he trails kisses down your jawline to your neck. "Call me Satoru when I'm about to ruin you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you know it, he's guiding you to the couch, his hands working at your clothes with a practiced ease that should irritate you but only fuels the fire building inside you.

"You think you're still in control," you say, trying to keep an ounce of power in this exchange.

"Oh, I know l'm not," he admits, his grin wicked as he looks down at you, his shirt already discarded to reveal the sharp lines of his torso.

"That's what makes this so much fun."

His hands slide down your thighs, his touch setting every nerve alight as he pulls you closer.

His mouth is everywhere, your lips, your neck, your chest, his kisses alternating between tender and ravenous as if he's trying to map every inch of you.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice softer now. "You have no idea how long l've wanted this."

The intensity in his words is matched by the way he moves, his hands and mouth working in perfect sync to drive you to the edge. And when he finally pushes his cock into you, the world seems to fall away.

Each thrust drives you to the edge. You can’t believe you’ve been depriving yourself from his cock, his touch, him as a whole.

The way he hits your spot so effortlessly has you rolling your eyes back.

"Satoru," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm that has you trembling beneath him.

"Say it again," he growls, his pace quickening as he holds you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "Say my name."

And you do, over and over, until it's the only word you can manage, the only thing grounding you in the overwhelming heat and pleasure he's pouring into you.

If you were to ask Gojo, he’d tell you that your pussy was made for him. The way it wraps around his cock, sucking him in with every thrust has him ready to give anything up for you.

And it doesn’t take long for both of you to reach your end, both tangled together on the couch, your breathing heavy and your body still coming down from the aftershocks of his touch.

"Well," he says after a long moment, his smirk returning as he brushes a strand of curly hair from your face, "I think I just proved that chasing you was worth every second."

You roll your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he replies, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to your soft plump lips. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I've got plenty more where that came from."

[itsnesss]

taking care of junho after he returns with a gunshot wound??? (in s2)

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, romance, a little angst, physical harm, care, vulnerability

word count | 1.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The early morning is calm when the phone rings. The sharp, piercing sound makes you jump out of bed. You grab it quickly, feeling a weight press down on your chest. Without thinking, you answer, still half-asleep.

"Hello, who is this?"

The voice on the other end is firm, somewhat worried, but clear.

"Are you Jun-ho's girlfriend? This is his mother. He's had an accident. He's hurt, but he's stable now, but I need you to come to the hospital. There are some things I need you to sign."

Fear settles in your chest, and your hands begin to tremble as you listen. The woman's voice keeps speaking, but the words fade into a background noise. Jun-ho is hurt. Seriously hurt. The image of him, his smile, his laughter, his warm eyes, starts to fade, replaced by a nightmare.

You dress quickly, fear blocking all rational thought. Time seems to slip away as you rush to the hospital. In your mind, there's only one image: Jun-ho. You just want to see him, be with him.

When you arrive at the hospital, the hallway feels strange, empty. The cold lights reflect the anxiety you feel with every step. In the emergency room, his mother is waiting. You don't know her well, but her eyes reflect the same anguish as yours.

"Hwang Jun-ho is here, he's stable. They took him to a private room after the procedures, he's awake but exhausted. I can let you in, but if you need to rest, you can do so as well."

You don't respond right away. You just nod, grateful that he's at least alive, breathing. You follow the woman to the room. When you enter, you see him there. Lying in bed, with bandages around his torso and an IV in his arm. His face looks paler than usual, but when he sees you, his eyes slowly open. A small smile forms on his face, though he seems in pain.

"You look... good, though it’s hard to believe," he whispers. His soft, raspy voice makes you feel a wave of tenderness, protection, and love.

You simply approach and gently take his hand. The warmth of his skin is a comfort. You stroke his hand, noticing how weak he is, how fragile he seems in that moment.

"How do you feel?" you ask, trying to stay calm.

"Not so bad," he replies, his smile widening slightly, but his eyes reflect deep exhaustion, as if he still can't believe what's happened.

The following days are slow. Jun-ho's recovery progresses, but slowly. Every day you care for him with more tenderness. You bring him water, prepare his meals, make sure he's comfortable at all times. Sometimes, you just sit and watch him sleep, waiting for him to wake up, waiting for him to see in your eyes all the love and concern you feel for him.

Nights are the hardest. As the silence deepens, so does the stillness of the room. Jun-ho seems relaxed, but there are still moments when his face twists in pain. You make sure he's always comfortable, that his medicine is within reach, that nothing is missing. And when you can't do more, you curl up next to him, pressing your body against his, seeking comfort in his presence. The warmth of his body reminds you that he's alive, that he needs you, that there's still hope.

A couple of days later, the doctors say he's well enough to go home. You take care of the paperwork and the formalities, hoping everything is in order. You take him home, to his apartment, the place you both know so well. He's weak, but his hand never leaves yours as you guide him to the sofa. You carefully settle him, making sure he's as comfortable as possible. Jun-ho's eyes are tired, but when he sees you, he smiles weakly.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice trembling from exhaustion.

You sit beside him, stroking his hair. The simple contact with him fills you with calm, though you can't stop worrying. You observe him closely. His eyes, the shadows under them, the paleness of his face... You know he's still weak, but the most important thing is that he's here, by your side.

"You don't have to thank me. I'll always be here," you say, kissing his forehead softly. The expression on his face changes, softening, as if the weight of what has happened is beginning to fade.

The following days pass, and the routine of taking care of him becomes easier, though no less important. You make his meals, make sure he does his recovery exercises, give him his medications. Even when he resists, when his pride gets in the way, you let him know with a smile that he has you, that he needs you. And though he knows it, he can't help but feel grateful for your care. Sometimes, when he feels stronger, he asks you to help him get up, walk a little, not feel so weak.

The love you share deepens with every moment, every gesture. He looks at you with a tenderness you can't describe, and you return the same look, feeling that words are no longer necessary. You love each other with the simplicity of everyday life, with the certainty that you will always be there for each other.

One night, after you've fed him dinner and placed him in bed, you curl up next to him. You're exhausted, but being with him, in his arms, everything seems to fall into place. He wraps his arms around you, holding you gently, carefully, as if afraid you might disappear. His warm body gives you a peace you can't find anywhere else.

"Do you feel better?" you whisper, brushing your lips against his neck.

"Much better, now that you're here," he replies, his voice still deep and raspy, but full of affection.

You look into his eyes, and in that moment, everything you've feared fades away. You see him, with that weak but loving smile, and you know everything will be fine. No matter what the future holds, there will always be time for the two of you, there will always be space for love between you.

"I'll always be here," you whisper softly, your hands caressing his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.

"I love you," he says, his words soft but firm. And you, with your heart full, return that love in a deep kiss, one that reflects everything you can't put into words.

The kiss is soft at first, as if time stopped, as if the whole world disappeared around you. Then, it intensifies, as if both of you were searching, through that kiss, to heal any remaining wounds. The embraces become stronger, more constant, as if you never want to part.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

NOT YOUR BRO

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: y/n decides to use some ‘unusual’ nicknames for her boyfriend, drew, except it drives him insane.

based on this ask !! you come up with the CUTEST requests @xoxosblogsblog so thank you for this :) i hope it’s what you wanted, i tried to make it more of a one-shot than a drabble so i hope it’s okay <3

WARNINGS: just some fluffy goodness, one f bomb, and i believe that’s it !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

THIRD PERSON +

The boutique smelled faintly of lavender and citrus, its soft jazz playlist creating a relaxed atmosphere as Y/N and the girls browsed racks of clothes. They had spent the morning shopping, arms now laden with glossy bags from Charleston's trendiest stores. Their conversation had drifted from outfit critiques to relationships as they admired a collection of flowy dresses near the dressing rooms.

"I don't know, it's just hard finding someone who actually gets me," Madelyn said with a shrug, running her fingers over the fabric. "You know, someone who doesn't freak out about my schedule."

"You'll find your person," Carlacia assured her. "Trust me, the right guy won't care how busy you are—he'll hype you up for it."

"True," Y/N chimed in. "Drew's my biggest cheerleader. Sometimes it's annoying how supportive he is."

The group laughed, and Madelyn smiled wistfully. "What do you even call Drew? Do you guys do the whole nickname thing?"

"Oh, for sure," Y/N replied, chuckling. "It's usually just 'babe,' but sometimes I call him 'Drewseph' when I'm feeling extra ridiculous."

"Drewseph?" Carlacia snorted, nearly doubling over. "That's incredible."

"I know, right?" Y/N grinned. "But seriously, I think he'd have a heart attack if I called him anything else. He's so used to those two."

Madelyn raised an eyebrow. "Like what? What would actually make him freak out?"

"I don't know..." Y/N tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Probably something like 'dude' or 'bro.' He'd be so confused."

"Oh my God, you have to try it!" Carlacia said, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

"What?" Y/N laughed, glancing between her friends.

"You should totally call him 'buddy,' 'pal,' or 'dude' tonight—just to see what he does," Carlacia suggested, practically bouncing on her heels.

"I don't know..." Y/N hesitated, though her grin betrayed her intrigue.

Madelyn joined in, nudging Y/N with her elbow. "Come on, it'd be hilarious. You know he'd lose his mind in the funniest way."

"I feel like he'd just be super offended," Y/N admitted, laughing.

"Exactly!" Carlacia said. "That's the point! He'll be all pouty and confused, and we'll all die laughing."

"Okay, but you guys better back me up if he gets mad," Y/N warned, smirking.

"Oh, we will," Madelyn promised, crossing her heart.

"Fine, I'll do it," Y/N said, shaking her head with a grin. "But you owe me if this backfires."

"Deal," Carlacia said, holding out her pinky for Y/N to shake.

As the group headed to the checkout counter, their laughter echoed through the boutique. Y/N could already picture Drew's reaction, and she had to admit—it was going to be fun.

—

The warm glow of sunset filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Drew and Y/N's spacious Charleston apartment. It was the perfect evening to host the Outer Banks cast for dinner and a game night.

The girls entered the apartment, greeted by the savory aroma of roasted chicken, mac and cheese, and freshly baked rolls. Drew met Y/N at the door, leaning down to kiss her. "How was your day, babe?" he asked, his voice soft and warm.

"Perfect," Y/N replied, grinning. "How about you? Are you a certified chef now?"

"Close," he teased, sliding an arm around her waist. "Go wash up; dinner's almost ready."

The girls exchanged knowing glances behind Drew's back, suppressing their giggles. Carlacia nudged Y/N with a wink. "You better deliver tonight," she whispered.

"Oh, I will," Y/N murmured, smirking.

At the long dining table, everyone was buzzing with conversation as Austin laid down the last plate. Drew, seated next to Y/N, had one arm draped casually across the back of her chair. She eyed the mac and cheese near him and decided it was time to set the plan in motion.

"Hey, can you pass the mac and cheese, please, buddy?" Y/N asked, her voice casual.

Drew froze mid-conversation, his head snapping toward her. His brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at the plate, then back at her. "Uh, sure... babe," he said, emphasizing the word as he slid the dish toward her.

"Thanks, dude," Y/N replied nonchalantly, biting back a grin.

Across the table, Carlacia snorted into her drink, and Madelyn covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Drew's jaw dropped slightly as he turned to her again, a mixture of offense and bewilderment crossing his face.

"Dude?" he repeated under his breath, as if the word left a bad taste.

"Hmm?" Y/N feigned innocence, loading her plate with mac and cheese.

Shaking his head, Drew tried to let it go, but the girls' muffled laughter didn't escape him. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't press further—yet.

The dinner continued with more subtle jabs from Y/N. "Hey, pal, can you pass the salt?" she asked later, earning another baffled look from Drew. When he handed it to her, she responded with a cheerful "Thanks, champ!"

By the time they cleared the table and set up for games, Drew was visibly on edge, his lips pursed as he watched Y/N interact with the group.

They were midway through a heated round of charades when Y/N delivered the final blow. "Your turn, bro!" she called to Drew, grinning widely.

That did it. Drew stopped in his tracks, tossing the game card onto the coffee table. "It's babe! Not 'dude,' not 'buddy,' and CERTAINLY not bro!" he exclaimed, his voice rising an octave in exasperation. His hands flew up in frustration, and he turned to Y/N with wide eyes. "What did I do? Are you mad at me? Why are you calling me that?"

Y/N couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, doubling over as tears welled in her eyes. Carlacia and Madelyn followed suit, collapsing against each other in hysterics.

Drew's jaw dropped further. "This—this was a joke?" he asked, his voice wavering between relief and indignation.

Y/N wiped her eyes, reaching for him. "Yes, babe, it was a joke. The girls dared me to do it to see how you'd react."

Drew folded his arms, pouting dramatically. "That's mean. You nearly gave me a heart attack," he muttered.

"Aww, come on," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheek. "You know I love you, babe."

Drew let out a dramatic sigh but couldn't hide the smile creeping onto his face. "You're lucky I'm obsessed with you."

"Lucky?" Y/N teased, kissing him again. "You're the lucky one, Drewseph."

The guys, still confused about what had just transpired, looked at each other. "Are we supposed to get it?" Austin whispered to Chase.

"No clue," Chase replied, shaking his head.

The girls' laughter echoed through the apartment as Drew finally cracked, pulling Y/N closer and resting his forehead against hers. "You owe me," he murmured.

"Anything you want, babe," Y/N whispered back, her grin mischievous. "But admit it—you love me even when I call you dude."

Drew groaned, shaking his head. "Don't push it."

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet and silly !! going to get through to some angst requests soon, i feel like i’ve been drowning you all in fluff which is CRAZY because i’m an angst girly at heart🫣 i have enjoyed writing happy drew & rafe so i can’t complain !!

pls send some angst requests pls !! mainly w/ a happy ending :)

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝

❏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rin Itoshi x GN!Reader

❏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

❏ 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k

❏ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're kind of a pain in Rin's neck, but you're also the only one who's always been there. Maybe Rin can find a spot for you in his life...

❏ 𝗮/𝗻: Still getting used to writing for Blue lock in general so this might be very out of character idk but I'm just kookie for Rin before the trauma MY SHAYLAAA 😭

“Slowpoke!” You call out gleefully to a disgruntled Rin Itoshi, running towards the goal with a ball basically glued to your speedy little feet.

It’s just a friendly game, goal limits marked by school bags and a pair of cleats. But it could never be just a friendly game between the two of you.

Really, it’s Rin’s fault for egging you on, saying you couldn't possibly be the best striker in the world since Sae will be the best and him second best – no space for you – as if third place doesn't exist. Idiot.

“GOOAAALLL!! With no competition, with no hope of being stopped it's a GOAALL!”

“Alright! Pipe down already.” Rin scolds you, cheeks adorably flushed, lip poking out petulantly.

“What's that? Sorry, I can't quite understand you, since I don't speak loser!” 

Rin’s round face twists angrily at your taunting, as if he didnt start this, lips already twisting to ask for a rematch when clapping sounds from outside his field of vision.

“Sae-san!”

“Nii-chan!” You call out at the same time, running over to the older boy, “Sorry I'm late.”

“Sae-san, did you see? That goal was perfect, right?” you speak as quickly as your young lungs will allow, desperate for some validation from the one who’d one day be the best striker in the world.

(You believed it then.)

“Well, I wouldn't say perfect necessarily. See, your balance was off and you hit it–” he stops at the slowly deflating confidence on your face, “I saw it. Heard it too. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood did.” 

“Well, good!”

Rin immediately scoffs, childishly irked at the pride on your face, “I could’ve scored a perfect goal, two even! If you hadn’t tripped me.”

“Ha! You mean if you hadn’t tripped yourself. Seriously, how will you be the No.2 striker in the world if you can't even walk in a straight line?”

“You–” Rin starts, infuriated and ready to prove you wrong a hundred times over, before Sae cuts him off.

“Alright! How about we all get some ice cream and sort this out another day?” He'd usually let you fight it out, but your volume was beginning to attract odd stares.

You and Rin shoot each other one last glare promising a rematch, before rushing to grab your things and follow Sae.

“Ah, wait. I can't.” Rin’s face flickers with disappointment for a split second. And then he's back to running his mouth.

“Hmph! How are you planning to be the best striker if you keep running off to do other stuff?”

“What does that have to do with ice cream?”

Turns out, everything. Since football is everything, everything is therefore football related.

Totally not because he's jealous of the fact that in spite of training less than him, you have no problem keeping up on the field.

Nope, totally not.

“Tch, whatever. I'm going now. See you tomorrow!” Turning around to leave as Sae tells you goodbye while Rin furrows his brows at the flower of disappointment blooming in his chest.

For a moment, you stand there, thinking, considering.

“Oh and Rin?” You catch his attention, turning around just in time to see his eyes light up like the ocean on a calm sunny day…

And sticking your tongue out at him, “Bleh!”

Sae tries his best not to lose it as his brother trembles in bitterness at you getting the last dumb word, while you're already running off in the other direction.

His brother tells him he'll be going to Spain later that day and time passes in a blink. Before you know it, it's just the two of you.

Walking home. Practicing late after school. Eyes catching during games.

It's a little awkward at first, silences seem to stretch on for longer than they ever have, especially as adolescence puts strange thoughts in both your heads.

Has Rin always been so pretty? So tall? His voice so smooth and his expression so cool when he scores one of his perfect goals?

Has your smile always been that bright? Your eyes? Your laugh that melodic?

When did your presence become the most treasured constant in his life?

Was it all the times when you comforted him when he was missing Sae but never admitting it? (Somehow you always knew.)

Was it when you practiced with him after hours, even when you were ready to drop from exhaustion?

Was it all the times he helped you with your homework, without ever teasing you for needing help?

Or was it this one day…

The sky had been a gloomy kind of dark all afternoon, ready to bring down mighty rain at any moment.

The moment chosen fell right in the middle of one of your late practice sessions.

Slowly, the stickiness of the sweat on your skin turns to the wetness of cold autumn rain.

“Oh, it's finally raining.” Rin comments softly, lightly jogging toward shelter – a few more minutes of training are not worth catching a cold for.

“Huh?” He notices you're not moving, stood still as a statue as the rain keeps coming down without mercy.

“What are you doing? You're–” 

“Hey, Rin?” Your voice is so quiet amidst the heavy Rai, but he hears you as… any day but this one. A sliver of nervousness crawls down his spine at something in your tone – what it is, he can't say.

“You still wanna be second best?”

“Of course I do.” He answers firmly, without a speck of hesitation. As if he could ever change his mind. 

(If only he knew.)

The corner of your lip lifts into a fond smile, with a dash of something heavier, before you turn to him with a wet and shining ball beneath your foot, “Then, come on No.2. First to score wins, the other's a lukewarm loser.”

You're off before he can say another word, watching the back of your drenched uniform as you race towards the goal.

“Slowpoke–!” Both of you gasp as your foot slips on the wet grass, sending you tumbling onto your back, punching the air from your lungs.

Rin finally moves, rushing to your side without following your example before leaning over you while scanning for injuries.

And then, you're laughing.

He's worried sick, looking at you with the widest eyes in the world, wondering if you have a concussion and you're laughing. Loudly, openly, bright as sunshine with rain water all over your lovely face.

Your lovely face… your lovely dumb face that he just can't stop thinking about – even if it distracts him during games, or class or any moment of his day – he just can't stop thinking about you.

Because you'd always been there, and he hopes you always will be.

“Stupid,” he tells you with no bite, kicking the forgotten ball so it rolls slowly towards the goal, “There, you're a lukewarm loser, now get up before you become a cold loser and I have to carry you home.”

You’re not a loser though, far from it.

And maybe third best isn't that bad. Not if you stay close to him as you are.

Because if the one thing he's always had, the one person who’s always been there, suddenly left?

It might just break him.

[punkrockmlchael]

Congrats on 100 followers! I love you you deserve it!!!!

NSFW request for Eddie - Dress + Dream + Pictures

Masterlist for 100 Follower Celebration!

18+ mdni, Smut: Masturbation (Male), Mentions of PinV, Hand Job and Oral (Male Receiving) (but those are not super descriptive) (Both Eddie and Reader are 18+)

Thank you so so much for reading my work and for requesting! I love you too so much omg; I went a little different with this request so I hope you like it hehe... basically reader is a popstar, Eddie is a fan and you know is pleasing himself to reader's pictures... (Word Count: 780)

Prompts: Dress, Dream and Pictures ; Fan!Eddie Munson x Popstar Fem!Reader

Eddie didn't mean to think about you like this, it just sort of... happened. 

He didn't even really like pop music, honestly. But, when Gareth had to take his little sister to your concert, he was not about to go alone. So, he dragged Eddie along with him. And Eddie huffed and puffed, he bitched and moaned the entire time. 

At least, until you waltzed out on stage in that shimmery outfit of yours, sparkling like an angel that had just come down from Heaven above. And your voice? Fuck, how did you look and sound like an angel? 

From that night on, Eddie was a devout fan of yours. He listened to your music, he went to your concerts anytime you were around the Hawkins area, he purchased every single album you released. And, not to mention, he talked about you constantly. No, seriously, the Hellfire boys were so sick of hearing your name come up at their lunch table. 

So when you released your newest album, you better believe that man was purchasing it as fast as he could. In fact, he even splurged a little to get the deluxe Vinyl that included some posters and pictures of you from the album photoshoot. 

Now, your new album was playing on his record player as he looked through the posters and pictures of you.

God. 

What a dream.

He flipped through the pictures, stopping at one of you in a short, tight dress. 

Fuck. 

The way the tight, black shimmering dress hugged your body perfectly showing off all of your curves. The way your chest looked against the fabric making your cleavage look a little too good. The way you were pouting at the camera, god, that fucking pout. Seriously, all you had to do was bat your eyelashes and he would do anything for you. And, you didn't even know him. 

With all of those thoughts, his hand was now reaching into his pants, palming himself through his boxers. He groaned, throwing his head back as your voice rang through his ears from the record player in the corner of his room. 

He shouldn’t be doing this; it was weird, it was perverted, but somehow he didn’t care.

All he cared about was you.

The next thing he knew his hand was sneaking into his boxers, wrapping around the base of his rock hard cock. He pumped himself a few times, groaning your name as he closed his eyes.

He pictured you in front of him, on your knees as you pumped his cock a few times, tongue licking the tip as you looked up at him. Your beautiful doe eyes sparkling up at him as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking on the tip gently. Your makeup was slightly smudged from the show you just finished but you just couldn't help yourself, you needed him so bad you were taking him in your mouth in the dressing room backstage. 

You winked at him as you took more and more of him in your mouth, groaning as you gagged around him slightly. A moan escaped Eddie’s lips as he moved his hands to your hair, tugging on your soft locks gently.

He groaned again, pumping himself faster with his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive tip and whined, thinking of you again. 

Only, this time he pictured you in his bed. Face down on the pillows as he thrusted into you deeply from behind. Small moans and groans left your mouth as your fists tightened on the bed sheets as you took him as deep and hard as he could go. His hands gripped your ass as he thrusted harder and harder, your moans becoming so loud the whole trailer park could hear. 

You whined, you moaned, you moved your hips back against his in perfect time making Eddie moan loudly. He thrusted one last time and you were both cumming together; he was filling you up with his load while you were clenching around him, releasing all over his cock. He had to hold you up and support you, otherwise you would be falling on your face in his bed.

Eddie grunted and cursed under his breath as he was cumming in his hand, making a mess in his pants to all the dirty, filthy thoughts of you. He panted, catching his breath as he came down from his high, his surroundings coming back into his sight.

Your soft voice was the first thing he heard as you finished the song that was playing on the record player.

Fuck.

He really wished Gareth had never dragged him to your concert.

eddie tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hii ! Could you please do some husband/ father baji Head cannons. Tysm <33333333

Yeah, here are some for Baji!

Baji never really understood the whole wedding thing and what a big deal it was before he met you, then he suddenly realised how much he wanted it.

He's a very responsible dad, more responsible then his friends assumed he'd be but Baji takes raising a child pretty seriously, same as with his vet work.

Speaking of vet work, he did get a few things mixed up in pregnancy stage and asked questions about things that a human baby wouldn't do (after how many weeks will the baby open their eyes etc).

Tends to try to let you sleep if the baby or kids start crying in the night, he's always determined to try and deal with it himself (though he does need your help sometimes). 

Isn't afraid to tell his friends to shut up when the baby is sleeping (even if he accidentally wakes the baby up after doing this the first few times).

Struggles a lot to get out of bed in the morning when you're next to him, just wants to stay next to you. (You're definitely being forced to lie in with him on weekends).

He's pretty determined that his kid is gonna be strong too, like him. Will put his kid in martial arts classes (though if they show no interest in it he won't push them)

Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.

Is a very good mix of being strict and chill, actually a lot like how Ryoko was with him (his mother is his role model and he tries to parent in a similar way to her)

Puts in a lot of effort into all of your birthdays, doing his best to make the day perfect for you and the kids.

If Mikey has a kid around the same time then the two of them have a fun rivalry going, like who's kid will talk first etc.

Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them, you have to bribe him with other stuff he wants. 

Panics a bit when the baby first starts crying

Introduces his kid to all the neighbourhood cats and teaches his kid to feed them too.

Introduces you to all the neighbourhood cats too, he'll also occasionally bring one home and give you a pleading look as he asks if the cat can stay. 

Thinks men who won't change nappies or help out with the kids are weak 

Straight up congratulates his kid after they get sent home from school after a fight.

Tries to teach you a few self defense moves, just in case he can't be around. 

He's a very caring father who can be a bit strict at times but always does the best for his family

Your being married to Baji privileges includes being the only one allowed to touch his hair (at least while it's just the two of you).

Makes sure the two of you get plenty of dates (will spoil you a bit but he's denying it if anyone else asks)

Was so nervous about his wedding, Chifuyu and Kazutora had to reassure him a lot that it'll all go fine. 

Hates whenever he has to study long hours to become a vet because it means he gets less time with you and the kids. Promises to make up for it later though.

Being married to Baji also means having Chifuyu and Kazutora around a lot. Chifuyu especially does whatever he can for you, he respects you greatly for being the one Baji chose. They're also uncles to your kids and will argue about who the kids like more (it's Mikey because he brings them sweets)

Is very sentimental, keeps everything you and the kids give him.

As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.

Is super glad when you get on well with his mother

He's a total family man, valuing you guys and his friends above all else. 

[inthelibrarybtw]

get to know college!basketball!captain!rafe

college!basketball!captain!rafe who has loved sports since he was a kid, fell in love with basketball when he was around 10 and took it seriously from that moment on. he wants to go professional after college if he can but is also working on his finance and administration degree. He has always been very smart and doesn’t worry a lot about grades but understands the importance of them, reason why he got a full ride in college and got recruited for the basketball team. who is very disciplined with everything that he does, once he commits to doing something he will do it and will do his best. he loves going out with his friends but also likes to stay in, secretly he loves cooking all thanks to his mom and his sister. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is very cocky and a flirt, knows he is good-looking and that’s the reason why everyone thinks he’s a player, he has never had a girlfriend in college. Everyone seems to know him and or fall for him, he doesn’t really care about it but it boosts his ego. He has been around a bit yes, but not as much as people think, he is picky even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He thrives on teasing people, especially his friends but he’s also very kind and intentional, not everyone gets to see this side of him. His family is very important to him, he has a good relationship with his parents and sister. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is very easy to please, just some good food, music, and his friends and he can be the happiest man alive. who loves watching movies and of course, never misses one basketball game, usually watches them with his dad or his friends, it’s his favorite thing to do. Has never missed one basketball practice since he was 10, just the very counted times he has been sick. His love language is physical touch, gifts, and acts of service the last two he prefers giving them than receiving them. Quality time could be added to but in very specific scenarios. His favorite artists are J. Cole, The Weekend, and Kanye. who is also a dog guy, every time he sees a dog he asks if he can pet them. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who loves being an older brother but sometimes he wishes the age gap wasn’t that big, fortunately, he has a cousin his age who might as well be his sister. they grew up together and are kinda inseparable thanks to that. He usually goes to her to talk about his feelings, since he knows he won’t get judged by her. he’s not the best at showing his feelings, or so he thinks, usually his eyes speak volumes, and anyone can see it but him. no, but really, talking about how he feels sometimes can be the hardest thing he can do. he tends to put everyone first and even if he’s this confident guy when it comes to his feelings he’s anything but. 

college!basketball!captain!rafe who is incredibly perceptive about how other people feel as long as the feelings are not directed at him because then he’s blind. who likes to take time to get to know someone and help as much as he can. who also can easily get angry when things don’t go his way and when this happens he prefers not to talk to people in case he says something he doesn’t really mean. If he’s really frustrated he tends to isolate himself to calm down but if he needs to talk to people he will be very cold towards them, and he immediately regrets it.

authors note: i always have trouble writing intros because i don't know what you should know before reading and what you should discover while reading but i finally finished it. i'm very obsessed with him, and i hope you guys too :)

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @masonmountme69 @winterivory if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[mamawasatesttube]

Do you think Tim ever had one of those moments where once he realised he was bi, he reflected on how he felt about Kon, and realised it was a crush? In retrospect?

HMMM. ive been sitting on this and pondering. and ... kinda?

but the thing to me about tim, his feelings for kon, and his bisexual realizations, is that they are all tied up in one big tangled knot. he's been in love with kon for years without realizing it; he had a crush on kon in his yj days (guy who is constantly going "what is kon's opinion of me. i need kon to respect me and likeys me and think i'm a good leader. for normal reasons" ok tim), but even after he eventually figures out he's bi, he doesn't realize that that's what he felt for kon, because that crush has developed over the years into full-blown adoration, and he... uh... didn't notice.

like, by the time kon dies and tim goes off the deep end and tries to clone him 99 times, tim is head over heels. it's just that tim has not noticed that he's in love with kon at all. to him, it's just - this is normal, right? he has a huge depth of feelings for his best friend, and that's how he's always felt about kon. when he thought he was going to die on apokolips, he just wished he could have reconciled with kon. that's normal for him. that's baseline. right? this is a normal way for a guy to feel about his best friend. and yeah, tim is bisexual, but after ives he just kind of doesn't really seriously date any other guys, because, like... he could, and maybe he goes on a single date here or there, but there's always this little thought in the back of his head that, like, none of the other guys he meets are as hot and funny and smart and kind as kon. man, guess having a best friend who's a 12/10 really just sets his standards high, huh?

like i just think tim's feelings for kon are such a huge part of his life for so long that the actual nature of them and the depth of them kinda just creeps up on him. it happens so gradually and is such a deep and abiding love by the time they're adults that he doesn't notice for a long time. because he's always adored kon, and by the time kon died and came back, tim already knew he loved him so so so much that living in a world without him felt unbearable. the fact that that love turned romantic somewhere along the line? he has no idea!!! he doesn't even know he's bisexual when that happens, so he's just so used to that being "how he feels about kon, his boy best friend" that he takes forever to realize he is, in fact, in love with him.

but yeah eventually he does put together that, ah, he has been into kon for an embarrassingly long time. without noticing. oop! he's going to go sit on a rooftop and brood and wonder if anyone else noticed before he did (most people who know him did).

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Jason the toymaker x A Reader who collects toys

Well, well, well, it looks like Jason has some competition, hm? I'm joking a little bit, but once Jason learns that you collect toys, considering he's a toymaker, he takes trying to make you toys that you'd add to your collection very seriously. Although, Jason is quite happy that you're as fond of toys as he is. Toys are a pretty big part of his life, and knowing that you enjoy them so much that you even collect them brings him a lot of joy and security in your relationship, as I do think sometimes he gets a little bit worried about whether or not a new partner might judge him for how into toys he is, so it makes him feel very comfortable in his relationship with you.

Jason is obviously very curious about the kinds of toys you collect (especially if he's going to be upping his game to make toys he thinks are worthy enough to belong in your collection), and so he does ask you a lot of questions about them. I feel like he doesn't originally expect you to actually show him all the toys you have in your collection, but if you'd like to show him, he jumps at the chance and is giddy like a kid in a candy shop about it. Jason can tell from how well-loved and maintained they are that you obviously care a great deal for them, and it makes his chest warm and makes him feel more confident in the fact that he clearly picked the right person. I feel like he'd also ask if you have any stories about specific ones, or if you have favorites and why if you do. As a toymaker, it makes him happy when people are able to form sentimental attachments to their toys, as I do think Jason treasures every toy he creates, and he views them as more than just objects to play with or hold or look at.  I feel like he, in the end, would tell you he wants to try to make a toy worthy of being in your collection one day, but what he's not expecting is for you to say that any toy he makes could go in your collection.

When you explain that it's because anything he was to make for you would be special, he definitely gets all blushy and flustered, but he still says that if you're going to put one of his toys into your collection it simply must be perfect. That's just how he is with you, his partner, in general; you deserve nothing less than perfection in his mind, whether it's a toy or something else, you deserve the best of the best. He still, all this time later, hasn't crafted a toy he thinks is perfect for you yet, but one day he will, and it'll be the finest thing he's ever crafted, you'll just have to be patient and wait a bit longer for it. (He does still give you tons of toys though, all made by him of course, he just thinks they aren't good enough for the collection.) One of Jason's favorite pastimes with you is pulling you into his lap and making new toys with you. He'll show you all the different parts and what they do, regardless of the type of toy. He'll sit there and tinker for hours with you in his lap, explaining every single step and part of the process, and it makes him indescribably happy and relaxed to be able to do this with you. If you ever randomly ask to watch him craft something he feels as though he might die on the spot from elation.

[novashelby]

"His Desk Pet"- Tommy Shelby x Reader

Pairing: Tommy Shelby Warnings: Sub!reader, Dom!Tommy, cock warming, degrading language, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibition, choking, rough. Slight dubcon. Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Tommy wants his little pet to sit under his desk, be quiet, and warm his aching cock. The catch? His brothers are sitting just across from him.

War does things to people, and for Tommy Shelby, it was the blanket feeling of not giving a fuck. ‘Not giving a fuck’ was, of course, subjective. Though, it made his company quite uncomfortable. Tucked away, under his desk like the good pet he told her that she was, he undid his trousers. There was a hidden attempt at being discreet. While she was under there, his two brothers sat across from him; playing the role of oblivious. Of course, neither of them were. Arthur had caught the shadow of her foot through the space between the desk and the floor. John? He eyed Tommy as his hands fumbled with the belt. But remember, Tommy does not give a fuck. 

John offered him an amused look, motioning to the desk. “Really? Are we a bloody audience to your fookin’ circus?” Arthur on the other hand leaned back, nursing his whiskey. He eyed his slightly younger, but more demanding younger brother with equal disgust and curiosity.

Tommy one handedly flipped through the accounts booklet that was scribbled with numbers and names. Drying he said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, John.” Meanwhile, just under that desk, she rested a bit hunched on her knees. He had one rule, one request; cockwarm him. Don’t move your mouth was what he had said to her. No licking, sucking, bobbing your head. Just warm me with that pretty mouth, Eh? With his left hand, he stroked himself hard, rubbing the precum at the top. She watched as he pushed his fingers at her. Without being told, she took his fingers in and cleaned them, devouring his taste. She had to hold back a little whine as he pulled them from her mouth and hit the back on her head to silently tell her to take him. “Now, boys-”

“You can’t be fookin’ serious,” John laughed with a wheeze. “What is she doing? Sucking your langer under the fucking desk?” He turned to Arthur, hitting his chest. “Are we seriously going to talk fixed boxing matches with-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, John,” Tommy repeated, his eyes looking down at her, unimpressed. Her lips rested comfortably half way; his cock filling just before her gag reflex. Even so, her jaw felt sore. Little bubbles of drool decorated the corners of her lips. With a heavy hand on the back of her head, he pushed her down. Just with a look, he reminded her that you need to warm the whole cock, not only what you can take. 

Arthur rubbed his temple. “A maid?”

Tommy let out a sigh as she took him down completely, her mouth warm and comforting around him. She on the other hand fought against the gags and chokes, drool streaming down her chin. But she was to just keep herself like that. It felt so…degrading? But the tingle between her legs told her that she liked it. Very much, actually. The fact that they knew she was under there, being obedient and good, but also very much a fucking slut. Or how he so casually ignored their curiosities. She fought through the pain radiating around her lips, jaw, and throat for her own sick, twisted pleasure for being humiliated. “Friday night, we will have to-”

“Is it Lizzie?” John asked.

“A whore?”

“That horse lady that you were fucking when-”

Tommy snorted. “Listen, she likes to be ignored. In fact, the more you ignore her, the faster I get off on the whole ordeal.” Arthur and John uncomfortably shifted in their seats and motioned for him to continue. Tommy droned on. But her, the toy under the desk, drowned them out with the sounds of her own spit gurgling. She did her best not lick or suck, or come across as bratty. Drool streamed from her lips, pooling around the floor and on his boots. Her once crisp, neat white blouse was stained with wet marks, clinging to her skin. Tommy eyed her, grinning as her nostrils flared, trying to keep up with breathing. Her whole face was red and flushed. As the gentleman he was, his hand kindly stroked her warm cheek. 

Arthur was starting to become intrigued. “So, lemme ask one question.”

Tommy, lost in her eyes, smiled at her before touching the other cheek. “Good girl,” he mouthed before responding to his brother. “I prefer if you didn’t-”

“But I am,” Arthur cut him off, scratching at his ear. “Is she some type of…ah…um, what do they call it, Johnny boy?” John shrugged, laughing how if anyone was going to know, it’d be him. “A fetish thing…a pet-”

“A pet?” Tommy scoffed, amused, looking at him before at her. Her eyes never left him; big, round, and beautiful. So innocent and telling, yet he knew her too well. “Are you a pet?” he asked, laughing a little. “Hm?” He spoke to her as if she had limited brain cells. She sank a bit, moaning against him. “No, I don’t think you're a pet.” That is when his fingers squeezed her nose and she flipped out, hands slapping against his legs. The overwhelming feeling of not being able to breathe made her gain a sense of severity. Trapped and stuck with another holding her life in his hands. For what was only a few seconds felt like minutes. When he let go of her nose, she fought to suck in all of the air in the room. Tommy laughed, rubbing her cheek again. “No, Arthur, I care about my pets-”

“Tommy!” John choked. “Fookin’ ‘ell,” he sighed, scratching his nose. Arthur had to look away for a second, trying to compose his thoughts. He started to believe he didn’t have any; lost and shocked.

“Get off,” Tommy told her and she was thankful to finally relax her face. It was red, puffy, and messy, and her lips were swollen and pathetic. He swiped at her wet eyes that watered from the pain before he ‘kindly’ massaged her jaw. “Good girl…stand up, come on.” She crawled from under the desk and stood up. John and Arthur immediately looked at her before each other. Tommy pulled her in, enjoying the mess she made of herself. “You’re all messy,” he cooed, wiping her face with his handkerchief. “Come here, hm?” She got closer as he tended to her, rubbing her back. He tossed the cloth to the table before looking at his brothers. She felt a bit embarrassed, turning her head. Without saying anything, he pinched her chin to look forward. “Now, which one are you going to suck off first, eh?” She choked out, turning to him, unsure of what he was asking. He matched her frown with a smirk. “Choose wisely, one is an animal and the other likes to slap his whores around.”

Arthur coughed, nearly dropping his whiskey. “The fuck you’re gonna ask us that!” John blushed a bit in the cheeks, averting his eyes with a grin. 

“Tommy, no…not after she just had you balls deep down her throat-”

Tommy leaned back, taking a smoke from his back and throwing it. His eyes scanned over her before saying. She felt like an animal in a cage at the zoo, everyone studying her. “She’s got two other holes, John. She has no objection to being used in any way needed of her. Isn’t that right?” He looked up at her.

Swallowing, she replied in a hoarse, unsure voice, “yes, sir.”

That made Tommy pleased. “Good girl. Now choose.”

[hellinistical]

more hcs of rafayel with a desi/mena girl cause im in need. and yeah it does lean more towards Muslim girls BUT anyone can read obviously.

He's actually not that great at fasting. At least, not when it becomes something he has to do. The man can be painting all day and not eat but the second it becomes obligatory? Pain.

And he's also not that great in the fact that he can't really go to bed with you, ya know? cause he's gotta stay away from lust.

Brushes his teeth obsessively during Ramadan cause he'd be damned if his breath got rank when he wants to kiss you.

designs your hijabs and abayas, lehengas, dupattas- everything.

he's designed your rings so why not ya know?

I think he'd be really just obsessed with doing your henna even for occasions that are just ordinary. He'd have you guys have matching designs or better yet- connecting ones (where if you lay side by side or put your hands or whatever together the picture all connects.) giggles cause its yalls secret. his name is on you somewhere and yours is on his.

The type to claim to be a picky eater but that's just not the case. at least, for the most part.

He'll eat stuff like mansaf with lamb head or even jadoo—oh, but you can't deny him his seafood.

on eid, or rather, the night before, he cant sleep. he'd be far too excited and try to stay up all night like its a game between you two.

Eid outfits? oh you're KILLING it- no one is even coming close to you guys. he takes it seriously and loves the feeling that he's out done everyone. getting ready on the phone with your cousins and siblings and they're just "oh my god." cause they weren't expecting you to pop off AGAIN.

Somehow finds a way to get the best parking spot at the place the eid prayer gets even though its jam packed. He finds it. probably had thomas hold his place too. There will be no 10+ minutes of walking in your heels and nice clothes dragging on the side walk just to get to the car.

But aside from that, hates how crowded eid prayer gets and even though you wanna go early cause all your friends are going early he'd prefer to go when the last round of it is going. and the fact that itd be easier to find a parking spot.

is he queasy when picking out a lamb or goat? nah. I can see him pretending that he doesn't wanna do the slaughter but he does. picks out the one with the most meat on (and if you like the more fatty pieces makes sure to save those when he takes home the portions you guys want before donating the rest).

when you go to the mosque, he parks closer to the women section so its easier for you. and makes sure to get there early cause ofc he's gotta get a good spot. Always has a water bottle on hand, maybe some makeup wipes and an extra palette- knows how to fix your makeup for you. SUPER fast with it too.

If you wanna rant to him about podcast bros and wannabe tiktok sheikhs he'll gladly join in and help clown them. Cause who is he to let some buffoon, some deranged man (cough based bengali but don't come for me there's more) who graduated at tiktok university try and act like they know everything to upset his wife? He is not the one.

matter of fact hes probably doxed a couple just for the nonsense they say- (or maybe exposed them....)

should i do more