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#shake tramp
total-drama-brainrot · 5 months
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nowen playing up the world's funniest bit post world tour (assuming the og cast stays on playa des losers whilst roti is being filmed) and just not telling anyone they're dating. abusing the "best friends" card to get away with increasingly more pda until someone cracks.
it starts off with owen carrying noah around on his shoulders like a neck pillow for a whole day. no one bats an eye; noah's lazy and owen's too altruistic for his own good, nothing strange about buddies carrying their friends.
and then the two of them just start randomly hugging whenever they want. people brush it off when owen's the one doing the hugging, until noah just walks up to his loving bf and clings to him like a koala unprompted. probably takes a nap like that too. but everyone politely refuses to address their mutual clinginess because it's whatever, right? nothing outlandish about friends hugging.
one day, during one of the casts' shared meals, someone notices that noah's missing and points it out. noah's head pops out from owen's shirt collar, revealing he's sat with (on) his chubby buddy underneath his shirt. eyebrows are raised, but it's overlooked.
later on, noah smacks his massive forehead on the corner of a door or something and owen rushes over to kiss it better, then peppers his whole face in kisses to "heal his boo-boos". people are starting to question how platonic their friendship is, but remember that owen's just kind of like that sometimes as a disaster bi and let it slide.
but after this incident the two of them get more comfortable playfully kissing each other in public and everyone is too awkward to outright ask if they're /srs or /j.
they start calling each other increasingly ridiculous pet names- escalating from things like "little buddy" and "big guy", to the classic "honey" "babe" and "dear", to outlandish stuff like "my little rotisserie chicken" and "my darling malewife whom i love dearly" and "panzerkampfwagen viii maus". no one knows what to make of this.
it isn't until heather gets fed up with everyone's hesitance to address the subject and corners the two for answers (she strikes me as the type of person to be super direct when asking for tea to be spilled) that the pair turn and nod sagely to each other. owen explains "we're married for tax benefits." noah laughs so hard he passes out.
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usercrybaby · 3 months
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i'm shaking and i feel so fucking sick but here look at my cool tramp stamp :D
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cosmic-kaden · 2 months
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Thanks clock app for reigniting my love for Marinas Trench 😂✌️
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d34dd0v3d1nn3r · 1 year
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Shake Tramp
Shake Tramp: Noun. A shake tramp is someone who will literally do anything to get what they want.
The sound of glass shattering rings out through the dream bubble. A troll...a man stands with his back to the computer he'd been using, hand firmly punched through his hive's window. Violet begins to seep out from the cuts caused by the many shards of glass, but he doesn't move. He doesn't even look at what he's done yet.
His chest rises and falls, eyes clenched shut as he grits his teeth against the pain now registering from his injuries.
"Fuck!"
He pulls his hand out of the circle of broken glass, wincing as he receives more cuts from the jagged edges. Blood was now pouring down his arm, dripping down onto the floor.
"Ah shit...."
It wasn't like he could die again. But the pain still brought back a sense of urgency, and clarity of mind. He walks over to his human bed, pulling out a first-aid kit from underneath it. He takes out a few things, before sitting on the edge of the bed and beginning to pick out the glass from his arm with tweezers. The cuts scattered across the arm are fresh, but along the inner length are more, some old, others still healing. Or they would have been, if not for this incident.
"Great, and this wwvas a nevw shirt..." He sighs, picking up a roll of bandages next. "Oh wvell...vwiolet looks good on it anywvay." He takes on a joking tone, seemingly trying to dissuade concern from...no one. He's alone in the room. He's alone in the bubble. He was alone.
"...." He wraps up his hand and arm in silence, examining his work half-heartedly to make sure nothing was seeping through too much. Satisfied that he wasn't about to bleed out, he flops back onto the bed, staring solemnly at the ceiling.
"Wvell Cro, ya sure blevw it this time." He murmurs to himself. "Novw you really hawve no one."
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Pls reblog I need this information :)
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532-1135-895 · 2 years
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i was listening to my Daily mixes and
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EX FUCKING SCUSE ME?
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locamotivednp · 13 days
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fellow celebrity status enjoyer! o7 itd probably be my fav if not for my long (long long) history with all to myself
Oh I love All to Myself. Masterpiece Theatre is such a great album overall tbh. It changed me fr fr when it came out.
Marianas trench is one of my top bands ever. I just got tickets to see them in September and I’m sure I’ll cry my eyes out cause I cry every time I see them.
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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✎ wife
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds
genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding
note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"Take that off immediately!"
"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"
Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.
"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.
Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."
"How does anyone ever put up with him?"
That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."
Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"
"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.
Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."
Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"
"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"
Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.
And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—
—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.
They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.
"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.
"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."
"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"
"I know!"
Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.
"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.
You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"
Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."
"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.
And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.
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So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.
“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."
“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”
Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—
Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?
In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”
Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.
“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.
“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”
Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”
Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.
“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”
“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”
“That would be my baby.”
“But how?!”
“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”
“Satoru!”
You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."
“Wifey! How could you!”
“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”
“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.
Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”
“…I know that already.”
Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"
“They… took me in.”
“THEY WHAT?!”
Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”
Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—
"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.
Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.
“They look good together?”
“Nanamin is dependable?”
Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”
You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”
And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.
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Epilogue
“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”
Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.
He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”
You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”
“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.
“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”
You smacked him on the head.
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whimsicalcotton · 1 year
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sorry going on a marianas trench spiral. check back in three business days
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oldmyths · 2 years
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And the guilt in me is the hurt in you and the hurt in you is the lost in me and the lost in me is the need in you and the need in you is the guilt in me
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.
At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.
"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."
You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.
Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."
You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"
Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."
You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night. 
Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground. 
"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.
Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.
"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you. 
When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.
I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.
You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.
When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"
"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."
You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.
Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."
"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long. 
His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."
Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"
You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."
You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."
You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."
"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."
You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."
"I'm definitely not even joking."
You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."
Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."
Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."
It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."
Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."
You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all. 
"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."
"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.
"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself. 
"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."
"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."
Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.
There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle. 
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Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk. 
You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume. 
When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.
"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.
You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number. 
You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.
Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues. 
As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.
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The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do. 
When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"
You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."
Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"
You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"
You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."
Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.
"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.
You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.
Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.
"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information. 
"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"
There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."
"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"
"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him." 
You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!
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Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.
It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.
When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.
When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"
"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"
His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"
He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"
"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming." 
"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted. 
He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."
Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.
"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.
God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.
Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"
He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?"
Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."
"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"
"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."
Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"
You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."
"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"
"Yes."
"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves. 
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Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!
PART 2
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months
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[2:17 pm]
This was supposed to be a quick trip. You needed some new pillows, a new plant, and Mark was really just along for the ride. He was in it for some Swedish meatballs, a slide of chocolate cake, and fruit flavored sparkling water. But somewhere in the time from the entrance to about the eighth showroom, you forgot about what you needed.
"I think this one is nice, but the paint on the walls makes the room feel too small," Mark hummed.
"Since when are you an interior decorator?" You asked with your arms crossed while you surveyed the room.
Mark laughed and you both moved onto the next showroom, a kitchen.
"This is nice! I like this island here and the gas stove," Mark mumbled to himself. He walked around the space, dragging his hands over the surfaces while he looked at the lighting fixtures.
He walked over to the stove and lifted the lid from the pot. He grabbed a wooden spoon from the wall and turned to you with a bright smile, "Oh good! You're finally home, honey. I was just starting on dinner. How does spaghetti sound?"
Despite the nagging voice in the back of your head telling you this was supposed to be a 'quick trip,' you played along. You walked over to him and pecked his cheek, "it smelled delicious. I had such a long day. It feels great to be off my feet."
You slumped into a stool at the island. Mark pulled open cabinets and pretended to shake things into the pot, "long day at the office?"
"The longest! Stupid Becky from HR was such a pain today. Honestly, she never shuts up! But anyway, how was your day, babe?"
Mark giggled, turning to you while holding the pot with both hands, "Not as long as yours, but long enough that I don't want to dirty any bowls. Let's eat."
You both pretended to twirl your forks in the pot, slurping up noodles and giggling at each other each time you made eye contact.
"It's the last noodle," you said in an amazed voice.
"Lady and the Tramp it!" Mark pretended to slurp up the noodle with puckered lips while you did the same.
You slowly moved toward each other until your lips finally touched. The kiss was short and sweet, a kiss that quickly turned to you both laughing with your foreheads pressed together and the tips of your noses touching.
"Thanks for making dinner," you smiled brightly.
Mark shrugged, "it was nothing fancy, anything to make you happy, honey." A loud grumble sounded from his stomach, "Hey my pretend spaghetti was good, but now I need some real food."
"I need my pillows first!" You exclaimed.
You both left the kitchen, hand in hand. "I actually really liked that island, maybe we could remodel the kitchen," Mark told you while you made your way over to the bedding area.
"Maybe we can just try a rolling island cart to see if we like it," you grabbed two pillows and put them under your arm, "time for real food?"
"Please, I need some lingonberry soda!" Mark cheered.
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crystalkleure · 2 years
Note
🎵 (pretend there is only 1 eigth note)
Marianas Trench - B Team
"Three, two, one You get right up, and I'm the one done You never say yes, not quite no Say just enough to make me not go You choose your words, careful voice In the end, I'm not the first choice You say you want someone just like me So then why am I your plan, Why am I your plan, Why am I your plan B? You know, you know, you love the way I linger, and You keep me wrapped right 'round your finger, and You say, you say "Just wait a little longer," and And, in time, I could be the right one Please, I'm the B Team"
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folkloresthings · 11 months
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BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
✩⡱ warnings: cursing
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despite being the one to have sent the message, you could only stare at the screen of your phone as it rang, charles’ name lighting up, a picture you’d taken of him filling the screen. just before it could ring off, you pressed the green button and held it to your ear. neither of you spoke for a moment, just soft breathing against the speaker.
“hi,” you whispered, breath held in your chest, wondering if he was really there. you didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him. hell, you didn’t know how you were feeling — only that you were falling madly in love one minute, and heartbroken the next.
“hello, ma cherie,” charles’ unmistakable accent filled your senses, allowing that breath you were holding to be let out. even now, he was using that silly pet name that made you smile. frankly, the love you felt for him hadn’t really gone away, despite what he’d done. you’d only wished it had never happened, and life could go on.
“lewis came to see me. he explained what happened, but i want to hear it from you.” trying your best to keep your voice steady, your knuckles grip at the bedsheets under you. you could hear him sigh on the other side, a long breath.
“i— didn’t mean for any of this to happen. fuck. i was drunk, too drunk to realise what she was trying to do. i probably should have shut her down sooner, but i wasn’t thinking,” he told you quietly. his voice caught, and you knew then he was crying. half of your heart yearned to comfort him, the other to shake him firmly. “i went looking for you after, but lily told me you’d left. so i tried to catch up, but she kept fucking following me. i had to get security to do something about it.”
you swallowed hard, a hundred daggers lining your throat. what were you supposed to say? if you listened to your heart, you would forgive him in an instant. you’d book a flight to wherever he was racing that weekend and let him bundle you up in his arms, take you to bed and make you forget it all. but you’d been throat a lot. you had to be smart, strong — more than just a lovesick girl.
“i’ve been let down so many times, charles. and i was so blind, i didn’t think you would do it too,” you were both crying, his soft sniffles filling your speaker. “i can’t just… pretend this never happened.”
“you shouldn’t have to. but — i can’t lose you, y/n. shit, you’re the first good thing i’ve had in a long time.”
you choked on a sob, praying he hadn’t heard it. he was sweet, so awfully and cruelly sweet, and it wasn’t at all fair. despite his recent mistakes, he scored five stars every time.
“maybe we rushed into this,” you pondered, and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have let you think my heart was ready for all of this. after austin i… i should have waited a little while.”
“y/n…”
“maybe we just need a little time. to figure ourselves out.”
he sighed, knowing he shouldn’t battle you on this. no matter how he wanted to beg you on his knees and make everything better again. “three months.”
“what?” you replied.
“it’s three months until the grand prix final, the last race, and until your finished touring. i’ll leave you alone until then, but i’ll set aside a paddock pass for you there. if you want to trust me then, come. please.” his offer feels terribly gallant, respectful of your feelings, that it brings a smile onto your face.
“alright. three months.”
INSTAGRAM.
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yourusername if i’m just writing happy songs, will anybody sing along?
view all 438,927 comments
joeyking who’s lady and who’s the tramp
⤷ yourusername i think we both know the answer to that
user tbh i preferred charles with charlotte than her
⤷ user no i’ve been waiting for someone to agree w me
landonorris setting the last picture as your contact pic rn
user team y/n or team charles take ur vote
⤷ user is this all you people have to talk about? shes her own person and was famous for years before she got involved with him
user tours almost over 🥲
⤷ yourusername 3 months 🥲🥲🥲
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liked by yourusername, lovebotyn, and 12,332 others
ynnews the singular tour is almost over!!!! it’s been such a good few months, we’ve seen y/n go through so much but we’ve also watched her grow 🥺 so very proud of her. fingers crossed for new music & another tour soon!
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user i wasn’t able to go to any of the shows but i have LOVED watching all of the videos of her performing
user the fact taylor, madison, maisie, gracie and olivia all flew to europe just to perform with her when she was in a bad place 😭
yourusername BABY 🫶🤍 this is so so sweet. but it’s you guys that have made this tour, coming out every night and singing along to every word. i love you all more than anything in this world.
⤷ user MOM I LOVE YOU
TWITTER.
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yourusername guys 🥺 we won all four nominated categories i could cry. but seriously, thank you all so much for your continued support and love. there’s so many people i could thank, but i won’t get round to them all. you know who you are. thank you ❤️
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taylorswift there’s no one more deserving 🫶
adele 👑👑👑
user GRAMMY WINNER Y/N
harrystyles congrats love!!
user she made it 🥺🥺🥺
lewishamilton my girl !! roscoe says well done 🤍
honeymoon baby girl i’m so proud
user the universe giving her back what she deserves 🙌🙌🙌
IMESSAGE.
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tagged: @leclercloml @vroomleclerc @gaviypedrisbride @ncentic @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ferrariloverr @baw-sixteen @rechtrecht @incoherenciass
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blvckswxnji · 11 months
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Tramp Stamp | 🕯️🔗
❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱❦. ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱
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-xxxxx-
Pairings: [Hobie Brown x (f) Reader]
Genre: short fic, (18+)
Warnings: some strong language, smut
Summary: Hobie seems to be fan of your new tattoo…
Word Count: 1.9k
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It was originally an impulsive decision on your part. It had been a random Thursday afternoon, and the idea of getting a tattoo on your lower back seemed cool. And so there you were, walking into the tattoo shop, and getting that shit inked into your skin for the next hour or so. When the artist was done, you took the time to admire the beautiful line work etched into the dip of your back.
‘Oh, Hobie’s going to love this when he sees it.’ You thought, as the excitement began bubbling its way into your gut.
You weren’t going to see him until later that night so you decided it was best to take care of it until then. You weren’t going to reveal it to him right away, instead, you wanted him to discover it for himself. You knew the reaction would be worth it. For the rest of the time being, you busied yourself with miscellaneous activities to keep yourself entertained throughout the day.
When the time rolled around for his arrival, you noticed Hobie was running a bit later than usual as he still wasn’t at your place. It was getting late, so you decided on running yourself a shower to get ready for bed. With that, you grabbed your towel, and were off to the bathroom.
Hot showers were the ideal for you, and once it was at the perfect temperature you hopped in. You made sure to be mindful of your tattoo while lathering your body, and couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of the water hitting your somewhat stiff muscles. Your playlist played softly in the background as the bathroom fogged up with steam.
You had become deep within your random shower thoughts when you heard a soft thump coming from your room. You didn’t leave the shower right away as you knew it was Hobie, and were sure he heard the sound of the shower indicating where you were to him.
It wasn’t long before you were done, stepping out of the wet tub and wrapping the towel securely around your figure. After drying off your body, you quickly exited the bathroom as it started to become suffocating. You entered the room where you were met with Hobie who had laid back comfortably on your bed. Eyes closed, legs crossed and hands behind his head. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing behind you, smirking when he was met with the sight of you in your towel.
“Well that’s certainly a sight to be welcomed by isn’ it?” He teased, biting his lip as he sat up to make his way towards you.
You flushed at the words, shaking your head. You stood up on your toes as he stood in front of you to peck his lips, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile at the warmth he enveloped you in.
“What took you so long?” You ask, pulling away to get dressed.
Hobie leans to sit back on your bed. His eyes never leave you as you make your way to your closet to grab a fresh set of clothing to sleep in.
“Oh ya’ know, the same old anomaly bullshit, and Miguel bein’ even more of a damn pain in my ass.” He utters nonchalantly, resting his weight on his hands.
You hum. Still aware of his lingering gaze as you walk back towards your bed.
“You gonna stare at me the whole time?” You ask with raised eyebrows, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.
“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before right? What, you gettin’ shy love?” He tilts his head to the side teasing the question, giving you a once over.
“No.” Your answer was short. Truth be told, Hobie always knew how to fluster you up, and make you nervous. So, you swiftly move to sit at the edge of the bed and slowly unravel your towel. It sits just above the tattoo on your lower back, so Hobie couldn’t see it just yet. Although, his heavy gaze followed your every move. The cool air hits your upper body immediately and you shiver as a result.
You tug on the cami you picked out, the hem halting just above your midriff, followed by a fresh pair of underwear you slipped on under the towel.
“Sure you’re not.” You defeatedly roll your eyes at that, reaching for your shorts. Standing up, you feel the cool air graze your lower body as the towel slips completely from your form. Although you couldn��t see it, the sharp breath of air that resonated behind you was all you needed to know what Hobie looked like. Still, you pretend not to notice, playing coy.
“Whatever Hobie,” you comment, turning to face him, “wanna watch a movie or something?” You ask, climbing up your bed to hover over him with a smile on your face. You lean in to peck his lips expecting a response, but your movement is suddenly halted as you feel two strong hands grab at your hips, and spin you so that your back is facing him again. You let out a yelp, losing your balance at the sudden movement with your side coming in contact with your mattress.
With not much time to process what was happening, you’re then pushed to lay on your stomach, followed up by the hem of your shorts being pulled down slightly to reveal your full tattoo.
“When were you gonna tell me about this hm?” His voice is low when he asks. His thumb tracing the intricate lines dancing across your skin as he examines the ink. The proximity of his body as he lifts his head to pry you of an answer makes you shiver a bit.
You turn your head to face him, his face inches from yours as his eyes darken.
“Oh this? Got it done earlier, thought you’d like it.” You smirk. “Wanted to surprise you.”
“What, you like it?” You ask him already knowing the answer.
He smirks with hooded eyes as he glances back down at the tattoo, gripping the side of your hip even harder before moving his hand down lower to grasp your ass.
You gasp softly at the feeling.
He leans into your ear. So much so, that his lips caress the shell, creating a tingling sensation across your body.
“Love it so much on you, I want to see it with no clothes on.” He whispers as he tugs at the hem of your shorts to pull them down even further.
You blush at the statement as he begins to lay kisses to your neck. “Hobie I just got dressed, and I just came from the shower.” It was a half-hearted plea, as he continued his motions that made your body heat up in anticipation.
“Shoulda’ thought about that before you got dressed babe.” He quipped, creating bruises on the soft skin of your neck as he moved to hover over you.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, threading your fingers in his hair as you move to kiss his lips passionately. “Or maybe I did, and just wanted you to undress me yourself.” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, a hint of mischief in your eyes.
Hobie looks down at you with a smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he leans closer to you, hand traveling under your cami and up towards your breast. High just enough to where his thumb could caress the underside of it.
“In that case, I’m glad to do the honors then.” He mutters before smashing his lips to yours. You would never get enough of how warm they were, and the cold sensation his piercings created when meshed with your lips.
Hobie grabbed the hem of your shirt, breaking away from the kiss to pull it over your head, rendering you nude from the waist up. His hands immediately grabbed at both of your breasts, fingers tweaking at the hardened nipples making your back arch off the bed and into him. He always knew how sensitive they were when you were aroused and it only made him want to pleasure you more.
You feel his hand travel down the length of your back, moving his hand to squeeze the side of your hip before flipping you over once again.
“Swear, you’re gonna give me whiplash if you keep doing that.” You complain as you turn your head to face him.
He grins at your reaction, “relax babe, nothin’ you can’t handle.” He says, pulling your backside up to his front, against his hips.
Hobie then makes quick work of removing his shirt, followed by the removal of your bottoms leaving you completely exposed. His hand runs down the expanse of your back, stopping at the ink that decorated the skin of your lower back.
“It’s so beautiful, can’t wait to see it as I ravish you.” He mutters lightly, making you whimper softly at the words. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips kiss the dip of your back. You feel them as they drag across your skin, going lower and lower. You shudder when you feel his nose eventually brush against your folds, causing you to moan into your pillow.
“Shit.” You whisper against the fabric as you feel his tongue begin to explore your opening.
“You always taste so good f’me sweetheart.” You blush at his praise. “I need to fuck you right now.” He breathes airily.
“Please Hobie, I need you.” You beg.
It wasn’t long after that you found said man railing into you from behind. Arms behind your arched back, face smothered into the sheets, and loud moans falling from your lips.
The sheer force that Hobie’s hips subjected you to, turned your brain into mush. The sound of skin slapping emitting all throughout the room, while both of your bodies became slick in a thin layer of sweat.
You felt as if your body was going to give out with the rate you two were going at, and Hobie could tell. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. Not when with each slam of his hips, he would be rewarded with the sight of your tattoo rippling in tandem with your skin. The way it moved as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, drove him insane.
It was just so hot to him.
“Fuck Hobie, I’m gonna come.” You yell, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening with each thrust.
“Shit, I’m close too.” He utters practically out of breath. He reaches for your neck to pull you up so your back is to his chest. “Come for me baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, thrusting faster.
With that, you are finally pushed to the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and you come undone on him.
You throw your head back in pure ecstasy, stars clouding your vision behind your eyelids as your moans fill the room. Hobie’s not far behind you as you hear a pleasured groan escape his lips and feel warm liquid fill your walls.
You feel Hobie drop his head onto your shoulder, breathing rapidly as he comes down from his high. Hot breath tickling your neck, before he sets the both of you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.
You both lay like that for a while, waiting for your bodies to cool down. His fingers softly tracing the outlines of the inked design etched in your back.
You lean into his touch, not wanting the small moment to end as it all was too perfect of a feeling.
You shuffle onto your other side to face him, cupping his jaw and bringing your lips to his in a soothing kiss. Breaking away you smirk at him.
“M’ guessing you liked it then?”
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I’m so glad I got this done lmao this whole week has been so tiring for me so I’m sry for the delay. Hope y’all enjoyed! <3
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bokutizer · 1 year
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dada's so pwetty!
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Includes : Sakusa, Oikawa, Suna Summary : Just a few daughters being enchanted by their dadas' looks Tags : fem!reader, fluff, domestic bliss pt. 2
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You don't know what it is about SAKUSA, but you're sure he must be able to use some kind of sorcery. Because while you usually spend hours of playing volleyball with your daughter in your garden in hopes of tiring her out, reading to her, preparing a glass of warm milk for her before bed- While you do all of that to get your little mouse to sleep, all Sakusa has to do is lie down with her. That's it. Not a single effort needed. You would have kept on hanging onto your sorcery theory if one day you had not been silently standing outside of your daughter's room, the door slightly ajar and allowing you to view her and your husband lying together in her bed.
Sakusa is quiet as he lets her play with the dark curls on his head, his arm loosely wrapped around her back and keeping her close to him. He watches the way the ends of his hair wrap around her chubby fingers, the sight of it probably having an entrancing effect on her by the way her eyes slowly start getting droopier. It's usually like this. And it only takes a few minutes until her hand falls limply beside her head, and soft quiet snores start leaving her mouth. This time, however, Sakusa's able to hear her mutter something under her breath before her eyes fall shut. "Dada's so pretty." It's thanks to the complete silence in the room that he's able to hear it. And as always, Sakusa carefully gets up from the bed, tucking the blanket to her chin, and placing a soft peck against her forehead. Though, he doesn't realise that this time his lips linger there a little longer than usual. No sorcery then. Just love.
Shrieks and giggles resonate through the house as OIKAWA chases after the barely three feet short creature with a Yoda mask. You smile and shake your head absentmindedly at the tramping noises they make while speeding from the upper floor down the stairs, and into the kitchen where you're currently making dinner. You hear your daughter calling out to you for help, and you immediately lower the temperature of the stove before you feel her wrap her arms around your leg, trying to hide behind you. Both, Oikawa and you, smile knowingly at each other before he approaches you and wraps an arm around your waist.
"I see one pretty girl, but I could be swearing we had two of those in this house." Five years and one child later, and he's still the same smooth-talker, you think. But his talking does its work, as per usual, when you feel the grip on your leg loosen. "I'm here!" your daughter yells and slips her mask over her head, letting it fall to the ground. She laughs at Oikawa's faux and dramatic astonishment as he swiftly picks her up and holds her up against his chest, tenderly brushing his nose against hers. Small hands grab ahold of his face, his cheeks cradled in her soft palms when she speaks with an endearingly serious expression. "But dada's also pwetty, right mama?" She turns around and looks at you as if waiting for you to approve her statement. And of course you do, especially once you notice some moisture gathering in Oikawa's joyfully sparkling eyes as you lean over to press one peck on a chubby cheek and the other on one that somehow looks rosier than usual. "Yeah, he is."
SUNA always wonders how they do it. These menaces. These bad influences. These hooligans- The Miya twins. He will never understand why their annoyingly stupid antics are so hilarious to his daughter. So hilarious that she even once claimed wanting to marry one of them when she gets older. (At least she was referring to 'Samu, he thinks.) But as he watches Atsumu hold his daughter's fox plushy that Kita had once gifted her for her third birthday, moving it back and forth while talking in that high pitched voice, he has to admit that the twins can be quite an attraction. His daughter obviously thinks the same as she attentively listens to what Mr. Foxy (the toy - or rather Atsumu?) has to tell her.
Yes, the Miya twins are all fun and games. But there is only so much of excitement and action that a four year old's body can take. And once the exhaustion sets in, triggering her cranky and moody side, the only one she wants to be with are either her mommy or daddy. Luckily, the onigri shop has quietened down, only a few customers left that are finishing their meals. "C'mere." Suna says softly when he notices his daughter's eyes glaze over with sleepiness and she starts rubbing them. He's quick to cradle her against his chest, completely dwarfing her, as his hands rub small circles along her back when she leans her head against his shoulder. "We're leaving soon, then we'll go sleep. That' sound good?" He feels her cheek brush against his shirt as she quietly nods, but before her daddy's light strokes along her back and hair lull her to sleep, she catches uncle 'Tsumu say something to uncle 'Samu while holding her plushy up. "Check this. Mr Foxy looks just like Sunarin." Hearing their snickers, Suna swears he's about to give them a child-friendly comeback until a frail, whispering voice catches him off-guard. "Nuh-uh. Dada's prettier than Mr. Foxy." He's just glad the twins didn't catch it, otherwise he wouldn't hear the end of it.
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