#❛ it started with a whisper — answered. ❜

[goteique]

| MY STARGIRL + rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne. 

+cw. — f!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, established relationship, unprotected, s/d dynamics, explicit smut, rafayel is in heat, period sex, oral sex, f!overstim + m!overstim,  | +wc. — 3.5k |

+syn. — the thought of having a quickie with you occurred to him so suddenly and so enormously that all he needed was just to make it go away. However, it did not stop there.

+notes. — something possessed me while I wrote this. So happy that I’m finally making the debut post for this fandom & thanks to @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading all my lads pieces. | redirect to blog navigation

◈ RAFAYEL. 

“It’s just the tip baby,” Rafayel whispers against your ears followed by a prolonged groan. Encapsulated by his arms you feel immobile under his touch. He adds, “I promise.” You know him better than he knows himself. He says it's just the tip but the way he is being handsy with you, playing with the hem of your robes, pressing himself against you it does not strengthen the promise part of his word. 

“I don’t think you will. . .ahaAah!” His lips have already moved onto the bottom of your nape. You can feel his teeth sinking into your skin.  You can still look at the view of the vast blue of the sea through the window but as his hands skim under your dress cupping your breasts you moaningly exclaim, “I bet you won’t stop just at the tip.” There is a hint of mockery in your tone, underneath that, a challenge. Rafayel can take on challenges quite well even though he will whine about them throughout, very well when it is coming from you but not a taunt. That’s still a little hard to digest for him.

“Hah! We’ll see who’s on the winning side,” He rasps against your ears before turning you towards himself. Now your back is against the warm glass window. The heat does not irritate your skin since the sun is not very rowdy today but Rafayel is. Rafayel does not wait any further for any form of resistance but ends up smashing his lips against yours. It is the first time he has been like this, so needy, so rough, and above everything you like it. Is he on his heat cycle already? Both of your hands rest on his chest, trying to push him away at the possible realization because it would be dangerous for both of you but he just wouldn’t budge. So, instead of trying to resist, you just give in. 

“We’re not going to do this here, are we?”Rafayel does not answer your question with words but with his actions. He clusters all your dress up and tucking it over your boobs. You gulp as you help him to unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants hit the floor, you can see the evidence of his yearning for you. 

Rafayel takes you into his lap by hoisting you up in his arms. The moment he pushes the head of his cock inside you, a gush of warmth washes all over your body. It is a beach resort solely owned by him where you have accompanied him but there must be at least a few staff, right? What if they see you like this? The chances are bleak but never zero. Those worrisome thoughts were pushed aside you feel the base of his cock hitting your skin with a strong deep thrust making you arch and moan.  You tip your head forward to say, “But Rafayel. . .you said. . . it's just the tip.” 

“And you said I —ahh— I can’t be stopped at just the tip.” He states as he starts to rut into you. “I'm just proving you right. Doesn't it feel good to be on the winning side?” it does . . . it does . . . your arms encapsulate around his shoulders as he starts to bob you up and down his fat shaft as you bury your face into his shoulders. He is stronger than his usual self. As he quickens his pace you start to whimper and you can feel him leaking and growing inside you, reaching your sweet spot as he keeps rutting into you in full yet strong thrusts.

By now, he has fucked you in different positions and different places of the resort keeping in mind not to finish inside you. He can not just help it: chasing the thought of cumming inside you especially when he fucked you raw for the first time. But he can wait. No. he will wait for you till you are begging for him.

And, when the sun sinks into the sea making the sky blush at its fullest, you and him are deep in slumber, in front of the fireplace, under the sheets, naked underneath, and holding each other.

◈ SYLUS.

It’s painful. He has been teasing you for a while now and your posture does not make it easier for you. Your muscles feel clammy. The way Sylus keeps rubbing the tip of his cock-head against your soft, tender flesh of your femininity gradually wears off your patience, thinning your limit and testing your sanity. It was you. It was all you. You admit that but you did not think he would be able to keep up when you kept being so needy, so ready for him. By now, you have come to know his melting points and you know when to abuse them and when not to. When you said you needed him, despite being in your months-time, at first he hesitated because you are not someone who can easily beg or ask for things but when you kept being handsy, and distracting him he said he would— with just the tip— a mere quickie but you never knew it would turn out to be this tormenting.

“Wait Sylus. You gasp as he rests both of his palms over your respective knees. This position.”

“Yeah, too deep?” Sylus verbalized with a veil of mischief over his face as he spread your legs apart as a result pushing the tip of his cock-head inside you. But before now, he would jock down to kiss you,  suckle at your nipples, and play with your hair but his cock would still be rubbing against the outer folds of your pussy, and truth be told, it was good, it was okay you felt satisfied but the moment you felt his cock inside you, even just the tip, it made you want all of him. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”. He isn’t; if anything he is diluting your self-control by pushing himself in you in small doses.

Sylus smiles as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. He sees it the way you keep swallowing, gasping for breath, biting your lip, touching yourself — you do that when you want something yet can not ask for it. As you half-lay on the bed, with elbows resting on the mattress creating dips under the influence of your pressure Sylus leans towards you his hands still intact on your knees, spreading them further as a result of which he sinks more into you; you gasp followed by a moan feeling almost half of him inside you. With a crease amongst your eyes, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down while the night robe is barely covering your breasts you look divine under the dim light of the room.

You can feel how aroused you are. It would merely take a few thrusts to make you cum. He can feel that too yet dares to ask, “Do you want me to move?” Since he asked so nicely you decide to play into his little game. Wrapping one of your arms around his nape, you pull him into a strong, yearnful kiss. He can tell. He can certainly tell how much you want him now. As you slowly feel his hands under your waist locking in, your legs start to curl around his hips The lights go dead when you pull away from the kiss to take a breather and he pushes all of him into you adjusting you in his lap. A gasp of a high note blesses Sylus’s ears followed by a trail of short quick huffs as if he ran fingers along the piano keys. Even with the lights out, when you glimpse his eyes on yours a hot wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

The lights are alive again when you bury your face in his chest. 

“Kitten, you doing good?” He asks that with the whole of him inside you despite knowing how such soul staring gaze while having sex makes you nervous. He walks into a different room in that position carrying you where two mirrors are placed opposite to each other. 

You barely peep seeing him through the mirror at first and then look into his eyes, commanding, “Fuck me as you hate me Sylus.”

A throaty chuckle escapes from his chest as he says, “Y’know I can’t do that.” As he puts you on the bathroom sink. “However, I shall not disappoint my queen.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

◈ XAVIER.

Xavier claims that he is not much fond of the idea of punishments in general but he has never denied yours. In fact, he has enjoyed them thoroughly till the end. He has never been the one to ask things right away and always ends up taking detours after detours observing your expressions so minutely, so intently since it sends an ample amount of electric thrill in his heart for a few seconds — the way you look away when he makes advances on you, the way you quickly lick your bottom lip before dismissing his approaches or the quickening of your breaths, the flustered look— even if it is just for a mere few seconds — it’s all worth it in the end when you just give in, doing all those innuendos, craving your walking path only to him and him alone. 

But, this time you decided to try tackling him from a different angle. You did not resist like you usually do when he slowly started to cave into you. In fact, you agreed with him right away. Both of your stress would just sublime especially if you two took a quickie break together. Ah! The look on his face— was priceless: with one of his eyebrows pitched higher than the other as a small crescent appears along his lips: he is so confused. Even if Xavier can not quite navigate your thoughts he is not backing out and you know he won’t.

As you sit on the nightstand crossing your legs, one upon the other with your heels still intact you summon him with your arm raised, all the fingers lightly curled into a fist except your index finger that moved to and fro for him, while Xavier stands at an arm's length from you. He walked towards you but stood, waiting for your next move. You loosen his tie and pull it away from his collar with a swish. He leans into you but stops midway as he feels your pointed nails digging into his chest. 

“Turn around,” you utter with a grave tone. It is so odd to see you like this that Xavier can not help but be pulled into this intimidating daze of yours. After you tie his hands at the back he turns around and then the fun begins. Xavier loses his mind for a good minute when he sees you taking his cock out of his trousers, jocking down with lips forming an unfamiliar pout, only to spit on it, stroking his length all over, coating your saliva on his cock. He groans loudly enough for you to look at him. Is he okay? With his head tipped backward you fail to gauge his expressions so you spit on your hand to use it as a lube for his cock.

Xavier tips his head forward as he feels his cock being surrounded by something, but only a part of it. There is a gap in between your cross-legged sitting posture: the gap between the end of your knee and the apex of your calf muscle with your other knee underneath. 

“You don’t mean — Xavier stammers— that I—

“Yes. I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” You exclaim with a firm tone by keeping your fingertips underneath your hand, elbow rested over your knee as you wait for his move. As he starts to move he can understand how much he has to work for himself to cum and you are just staring at him. It drives him insane, really. With his hand tied at the back, he can only do so much so you decide to help him— out of pity of course. After you unbutton his shirt one by one, you hold his hard nipple with your sharp nails and pinch it; Xavier has to fight the urge to hold himself back from latching his lips on your warm skin.

As your hands move upwards, caressing his cheeks, thumb abusing his lips. He glances before he takes your thumb into his mouth while his hips are in constant motion. “Go ahead. Get yourself off.” Yeah! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. You watch his face contort, your thumb pressed in between his teeth making you wince as he peaks his orgasm. He pulls out his cock and the exhaustion is heavy on his muscles. 

Inserting a finger into the gap between his belt and trousers, you pull him towards yourself, whispering, “Good boy ”over his lips before kissing him. He moans while kissing and surrenders as you untie the knot of his hands which immediately clamp around your shoulder heads. Well, aren't you an angel for showing kindness to him?

“More. . . more . . . I want more. . .” Xavier mumbles taking a quick breather before diving back to one more kiss and this time he is rougher than usual. 

◈ ZAYNE.

Zayne has been teasing you for . . . ah ! You do know how long has it been since he pushed you over the pool table. His cock is still inside his pants, intact but awake. Although the only view you have is the ceiling and sometimes his face when he rubs the clit folds by running his thumb roughly over them while the rest of the finger rests against your inner thigh. He has unbuttoned your dress shirt enough to have a view of a slice of your supple skin. Every time he presses your bud, followed by a rough rub towards the apex of your cunt he sees your navel sink. It turns him on, too much for him to ignore the attention that his cock has been begging. Your palms lay flat on the green of the pool table yet every time he jocks down to have a taste of your arousal your nails dig into the corase of the table. 

As Zayne stands up again, you whimper before saying, “Stop teasing, me. just put it in already. ” The tip of his nose glistens. Does he know that? He licks his lips before responding, “But I haven’t even. . . he trails off because part of him does not wanna scare you by bringing the thought into light that how he has not taken out his cock yet. He has been touching your folds, lapping over your arousal once in a while. You can not see but only hear the lewdity now while Zayne can see that you are so wet that the moss green of the pool table has become dark green. You don’t need to know that, not now.

“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.” Zayne supplies in a tart manner but actually, he is reminding himself not to cross the thin boundaries too much otherwise he won’t be able to keep his urges at bay. He is under the influence of the same pain as you yet you are so whiny about it which only makes it harder for him to refuse you in this vulnerable needy state. He was just teasing you, flirting ever so slightly to get you comfortable and now he is in deep trenches of pleasuring you. 

But, there is pain underneath. Your body tells him that you want more but he is not sure about himself how long he can keep at it.

Fuck. He can’t. Not anymore. In a series of rough and messy movements, he has his cock out of his pants, aligning to your entrance. One glance and the moment he is inside you he can feel your cunt clench around his cock while your legs wrap around his hips. He can hear the click of your heels as he leans over you, his face in the nook of your neck, not moving but still adjusting to the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped around him but you are so impatient. He feels your wet suck of the lip over his collarbones which denotes his desire for you. As he starts to buck his hips against you, you suddenly think how the design of the ceiling is not boring anymore.

[maxtermind]

“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)

“your opinion of me won't change, right?”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort

the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.

for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.

when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.

“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.

you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.

"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.

"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."

lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."

you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."

his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.

you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.

it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.

so you left.

"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.

“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.

“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.

"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"

the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.

"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."

it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.

all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.

the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?

he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.

"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."

"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."

you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."

he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."

his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.

you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.

"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."

you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.

when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.

you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.

and maybe this time, it’ll be different.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[hoshifighting]

can't stop thinking about dumbification w wonwoo....he's one cocky mf and I just KNOW he'd be so filthy😩😩

what are your thoughts??

dumbification with wonwoo WARNINGS: smut, dumbification, fingering, squirting, dirty talk.

tbh you never expected this kind of shit to happen with him, least of all. wonwoo—who barely blinks when u flirt or tease, as if he's above it all. but now, fuck, he's got you on your back, legs spread wide and trembling, fingers pressing so deep inside you that your mind is starting to blank out, and all you can think about is how good it feels. you’re already a mess, whining and squirming, trying to catch your breath while he's got that stupid smirk playing on his lips like he’s enjoying every second of watching you fall apart.

“shit, look at the mess youre making of yourself baby girl, so fucking wet f'me” he mutters, voice raspy, fingers pushing in and out of you at a slow, agonizing pace. “can’t even think straight, hm?” you try to form a response, something snarky or witty, but all that comes out is a whimper, hips lifting to meet his touch, desperate for more. he’s dragging this out on purpose, you know it. trying to push you past the point where you can keep that sharp tongue of yours and turn you into nothing but a mess beneath him.

“wonwoo,” you manage to gasp, voice catching as he curls his fingers inside you just right, brushing against that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “please—" he chuckles, deep and dark, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your neck as he leans in closer. “please, what?” he taunts, fingers slowing down to a maddening pace, just enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to push you over. “you want more? or are you already too fucked out to handle it?” you shake your head, trying to clear the haze, but it’s impossible. the heat pooling in your belly is making you splash, fever spreading through your limbs and making your mind go blank “answer me,” he commands, his free hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “use your words, baby. or is that too hard for you now?”

your brain is a foggy mess, but you try to focus, try to form some semblance of thought. “fuck—more, please, i—” your voice cracks, the words barely coherent, but it’s enough for him.

“good girl,” he purrs, and his fingers speed up, pumping into you harder and faster, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the air. “see? you can be good when you try.” it’s embarrassing how fast you lose yourself after that. the pleasure is too much, too intense, and all you can do is lay there, legs twitching, hips bucking, completely at his mercy. you’re babbling now, words that barely make sense falling from your lips as you beg for more, beg for him to let you come, to end this delicious torture. “you like it when i make you stupid, huh?”

you can’t respond. not in any way that matters. the only thing you manage is a broken moan, hands clutching at the sheets like a lifeline as the heat builds inside you, threatening to consume you whole. you’re so close, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. “go on,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “show me how dumb i can make you. show me how fucking good i can make you feel.”

t hits you all at once. your vision goes white, body convulsing as the orgasm tears through you, so intense you barely register the flood of wetness soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. you’re shaking, gasping, unable to form a single coherent thought as the pleasure washes over you. wonwoo watches you fall apart, “fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs. “look at you. didn’t think i’d get you this messy.” u’re still trembling, still trying to catch your breath, and all you can do is nod weakly.

[rusedrabbles]

I have been thinking a dangerous thing to do before morning coffee and the sarcophagus of forvever sleep sounds like it had to be a collaboration between Clockwork and Nocturne. So I thought Time/Sleep/War polycule with halfa son.

The grief of losing their ghostling had driven Pariah mad, and in his blinding rage, the halfa population was massacred. To stop the Observants from attempting regicide, Clockwork and Nocturne created a sacrophagus to keep their husband.

As it so often does, the passing time faded memories of why the Ghost King had gone mad, painting him a senseless tyrant instead of a despondent father.

A ripple across screens, a shift in time's progression, and a new halfa. Time carefully pulling strings, Sleep keeping watch to ensure a restful nap (for that's all they ever seemed to amount to, his poor son always rushing, always busy with something)

An arrogance unchecked rousing the slumbering king, a desperate child forcing him back into his prison, but the magic doesn't take hold. Now awake, having seen what his husbands saw, Pariah would not sleep through his lost son's new life.

Phantom was a new hero, one who seemed to wander a fair bit. Batman had already tried to find anything about Phantom, to very little success. Historical records of a teenager appearing to help before vanishing, allusions to a child of Kronos grumbling about timestreams, whispers of a young man whose rage was like a glacier, slow and unstoppable once it starts to move. The Lanterns had records of entire ships frozen solid, Phantom having been the last sighted individual before they became glacial space debris. Constantine and Raven both vouched for Phantom, which was why he was a part of the team, but there were still too many questions without answers...

The Justice League was heavily outnumbered, and while they could win, it would not be without heavy civilian cost. At least, that was their original thought, until Phantom Wailed for his father (?) and a massive Lazarus green rift ripped open above him, allowing a ghostly warlord with a Crown of Fire through, a skeletal army marching silently in the warlord's wake.

[barnacles34]

Bedside (Ryujin x M!Reader)

Tags: Soft!Ryujin, Dom M!Reader, Soft Dom/Sub, 4k+, True Love, Lots of Fluff, Lots of Smut

The morning felt like it was wrapped in a golden haze, the kind of light that pours in slowly, spreading warmth over everything it touches. I woke with a start, the sun carefully layered on my covered body, its rays stopping just short of my face. The blanket was warmed by its touch, a soft cocoon that enveloped me and Ryujin. I turned my head to the side, and there she was, her face inches from mine, eyes open wide, studying me with a serene intensity.

Her gaze was almost hypnotic—those magnificent eyes that seemed to capture the morning light, her thick, pink lips parted slightly in a silent question, and a delicate button nose that added a youthful charm to her sharp intellect. She was stunning in a way that was almost surreal, like a dream that had somehow crossed into reality.

She lifted a single finger and traced a circle on my exposed collarbone with her long, delicate fingernail, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. “Good morning, babe,” she whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on my bicep, her lips soft and warm against my skin. Her voice had a playful lilt to it, a mix of affection and mischief.

“What do you want to eat?” she asked, her voice a low murmur that carried a sweet intimacy.

I stretched slightly, my arm still heavy with sleep, but my mind was already waking up, tuned into her presence. “Anything you make, babe,” I replied, my hand moving to her head, fingers weaving through her hair, gently patting her. I shifted, offering my arm as a pillow, inviting her to come closer.

Ryujin grinned, a playful glint in her eyes, as she rested her head on my arm. “What if your blood circulation stops?” she teased, nuzzling into my arm, her breath warm against my skin.

“I’ll tolerate it,” I whispered back, my thumb brushing lightly against her scalp, savoring the soft texture of her hair. Her fingers began to inch the blanket lower, tracing slow, deliberate patterns across my chest, her touch firm yet gentle, igniting little sparks wherever her skin met mine.

“Hey, Koji?” she asked again, this time her voice carrying a note of insistence, like a question that had been hanging in the air.

I blinked, still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. “What’s up?” I mumbled, my voice groggy but curious.

“Do you want to have dinner with the group?” she asked, her fingers pausing for a moment on my chest, as if waiting for my answer.

“Huh?” I replied, a bit more alert now, my brow furrowing slightly. “Why would you invite me to that?”

Ryujin’s smile didn’t waver; instead, it widened, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know, I want to introduce you to the other members,” she said, her hands stilling, her palms pressing warmly against my skin. The touch felt more intense, like her words had given it a new weight.

“Wouldn’t Yeji just tell everyone anyway?” I countered, my tone amused, knowing how easily news traveled in their circle.

“They probably don’t even believe her,” Ryujin replied, laughing softly. “She’s always getting pranked and believes things so easily.” I could picture Yeji, her bright eyes wide with excitement, trying to convince everyone, the thought almost hysterical.

Ryujin shifted closer, her breath warm against my neck, her body fitting perfectly against mine like she had always belonged there. Her hand moved again, this time more slowly, tracing the lines of my muscles with deliberate precision, her fingertips a light dance across my skin. I felt her lips press against my shoulder, a soft, lingering kiss that seemed to convey a hundred unspoken words.

I watched her, the way her face softened as she nuzzled into me, the way her body seemed to melt into mine, and I felt that familiar ache in my chest, that overwhelming need to hold her closer, to feel her warmth against me. She was everything I never knew I needed, a perfect paradox of strength and softness, of intelligence and playfulness. I could feel her heartbeat against mine, a steady, comforting rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with my own.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice low, my hand moving to cup her cheek, brushing a thumb along her jawline. “I’ll go, but only because you asked.”

Her eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and delight, and she kissed my cheek, quick and soft. “Good. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

She started to pull away, but I caught her wrist, pulling her back to me. “Not so fast,” I murmured, my lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. She responded immediately, her body pressing closer, her hands moving to my shoulders, gripping me tightly.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other. “Okay, okay,” she laughed, breathless but happy. “You win. Breakfast first.”

She moved back, moving off the bed with her knees, her hair cascading around her beautiful face. But I couldn’t resist anymore, I grabbed hold of her ankle, and I pulled her back in.

She yelped in surprise, looking at me with a questioning look.

“Let’s do it.” I asked, more of a demand than anything.

“Why are you treating me like I have 10 years of experience, I’m basically sore everyday because of your antics!” She scolded me, mixed with a breaching laughter that eventually took over her irritation.

“How could I resist? Baby. You. Drive. Me. Fucking. Crazy.” Enunciating every word into her face. She stared with all her resolve, which was about a second before she looked away, her wide-eyed pupils frantically moving around. She didn’t have any experience, true. It was her little world I breached with years of experience. Yet, she complimented me so well, so profoundly, her amateur blowjobs, the highlight of my years; the uneven hip movement, the cause of the fire in my loins; her little trembling lips as she climaxed, the afterburn of my lustful passion.

Her face relaxed into acceptance, into affection, she was mine. Slowly our lips grazed, the misty hot breaths enveloping portions of our face. The sweet heat of our interactions grew; my erection was already poking into her navel, my hands already searching, finding, caressing the unbelievable curves of her hips, a genuine hourglass, the most perfect, soft hourglass. Each tight and desperate grip on her hips confirmed one oxymoron after another, her ass like a firm dough, elastic to the touch, warm to the embrace; there was no grip, no swell caress that could satisfy me of her ass, it was perfection personified.

“You like that?” As I caressed her, the side of abdomen, the soft skin underneath her breasts.

“Yes…” she breathed a soft moan against my grip.

I slowly enveloped her neck with my other hand, still lapping at her welcome and moist lips, not to choke her out, but to show her that I have ownership over her, that I was the sole owner.

“Who owns you?” I demanded.

She was silent, I tightened the grip, not on her neck, but the skin surrounding her, I would never, never ever hurt her. 

I pushed my erection against her covered wet cunt, a loud “mmph!” sounded, vibrated, against my lips, it was all a sopping mess. It was an extraordinary affair, to the point where I realized the grip on her skin was too much, the imprint of my grip left white surrounded by the red recirculation.

“Who owns you!?” I growled against her face, the separation of our kiss caused by my penultimate inquiry, our cheeks stuck together, slick with sweat, slick with the condensation of love. 

“You own me! You… own… me…” she whispered, softly clawing her nails on my nape, thoroughly attached to the side of my face. The seductive breath of her declaration on my ears, the faint waves that serenaded the curves of my ears, riled me up so hard, so fucking hard.

“Yes I do, I own you.” I declared, this time, I pulled my face off, no matter how pleasing the heat shared with our bodies was. There was another award, hiding behind her white panties, the condensed wetness at her entrance, begging for reprieve. Slowly I hooked the fabric covering her heat, a wonderful light pink stared back, slick and glossy with arousal, it begged for the relief that I promised, that I held over her like a diamond on a stick. 

“Please”, she said, mouthing the back of her finger, searching for anything to calm her arousal.

I was leading her on, it was euphoric, watching a ‘femme fatale’ writhe under you, begging for reprieve. Slowly and steadily, I climbed on her again, but with a finger grazing, caressing the heat, her pussy, that Ryujin begged to control, it was never enough, of course, it was grazes—caresses that only lead her on more. She was writhing, literally, the striations of her faint abs moved in tandem with the absolute authority she had over her waist. It was surreal. The teasing continued, this time, though, I planted my hand on her body, spreading the essence over her body, the essence that her pussy spread over my hand through just gentle grazes, a streak of a bright sheen across her abdomen, it was divine, absolutely virile.

She breathed heavily, the ceased teasing seemed to give her a moment of peace of mind, her chest heaved in tandem with wavy bounces of her soft beautiful breasts.

“Do you want this cock?” I asked vulgarly. Gripping her legs, waiting for a response, a faint sound was heard, only the submissive tone could be interpreted.

“What was that?” I chimed in, with my head turned, waiting for a more clear sentence.

She quickly grabbed the nape of my neck, pulling herself up with both of her arms. I stumped both of my arms to resist letting both of us fall.

She pulled me in deeper, my ear still turned slightly towards her words: “Daddy, fuck this pussy until I can’t walk anymore,” a chill moan and a vibration exited her body, “fuck me until I can’t think of anything else, paint my pussy in your cum, fuck me until my ass is red with love.” Each sentence weakened the stumped arms, each sentence lowering her onto the bed in tandem with me. 

This time, I swiped the condom, making sure that I don’t make the same mistake for the fifth time. This time, I was ready, a full box of condoms, a canvas to paint with my essence: her body. She wrapped her fingers around my hair whilst she kissed all over my face, “I can’t wait, daddy…”

I didn’t even care if the condom was properly on my dick, all I wanted to do was pummel her with my cock, I wanted her sopping wet mess gumming on my cock for hours straight, perhaps overambitious, but anything less with a goddess like her would be tantamount to self-sabotage to the highest degree.

In the haze of the rapid acceleration into intercourse, many significant things were forgotten. One of them is that Ryujin was still sore from our combined passions these past days, second, that I was 10 inches taller, third, that I could lift 40kg quite easily with one hand. This ignorance of my brute strength combined into a display of absolute inequality. With an arm wrapped around her waist, I picked her up; the other arm explored her soft curves, the glowing creamy skin softer than a water balloon. If my dick was trouble for women 10 inches taller than her, then most definitely would be an incomprehensible hurdle for Ryujin, I felt bad, but really, I wasn’t going to stop, not a fucking chance.

When I picked her up, the position naturally assumed a foreshadowing penetration, I kneeled with my dick in full mast, and the crevices between her thighs and ass slotted onto my thighs, her pussy sliding down slowly onto my cock, her wet pussy perfectly aligned for a most grievous exchange of lust.

“You want it?” I swiped some hairs stuck to her forehead, savoring her knotted face of arousal, of a needy lust. 

“Yes.. I want it so bad, I’ll do anything, please, just fuck me out of my mind…” Her face snapped closer to my face, breathing slowly against my face, waiting for the ecstatic relief of penetration.

I wasn’t stolid in my determination to tease her any further, and feared the chance that her mind could break any second. And so, slowly, I entered her, the reverberating sound of her sopping cunt squelching against my cock was impossible to miss. She breathed in shorter intervals, desperate waves of air caressed my face, she was moaning noticeably louder against my face, still stolid in her determination to stare at my face, making sure that I felt the breaths of arousal on my face, the fervor in her doe-eyes begging for more, strands of saliva from our wet kisses still connecting our lips in faith.

Each time we have sex, five times so far, it’s electric, not in the way that it’s new; of course it’s new, rather, it’s the pure lust—pure passion that wrings out of our bodies uncontrollably, the smothered flames of lust nudging us into a most perfect arrangement. It’s something my former secretaries couldn’t wring out, former daughters of chaebols irritated by my disinterest; only the virgin lust of Ryujin, the loving embrace, brought my flames out. 

And she knows, in her irritated face at hearing about my ‘experience’, she knows that she alone was the only one, to make me growl in her ear in lust, slap her ass in desperation, caress the smooth skin of her god-given sculpted skin, and cuddle with for days.

And so the rapid rumination of our past reflections apexed when I finally buried my cock to the hilt inside her, a final spine-bending moan wrung out of her, the transition into a primal, adrenal, lustful love completed. Swiftly, I pulled her up, her wet mess collecting at the base of my cock, and wet squelches with loud moans synchronized as I sped up, skewering her sopping cunt on my cock.

Her moans were fast, uneven, a rhythm that could never be replicated in any other conditions. Quick and searing ‘Ah!s’ serenaded my ears, only motivating my body to push further, the blood flowing quicker through my body, helping me plunder her insides

“Hngh—I’m gon—I’m gonna—cumm~!” Still seated on my lap, her head fell back, almost spine-bending, her mouth wrenched open with a deep moan exiting her body, tremors shook out her orgasm for the shortest, lengthiest 10 seconds: short in that I wished I could fuck her through the orgasm for longer, lengthy in that her pussy pulsated, varying degrees of tightness that provided wonderful relief, almost making me pulse my essence into the condom, wasting a perfect opportunity to paint her body.

Speeding up against her orgasm didn’t help the matter, she moaned louder, I thought she had already lost the facade of indifference, but her moans were a whole order of magnitude louder. 

“Oh my god—fuck me until I can’t walk—carry me to the dinner!” Her mind was loose, anything that went through her head exited out her mouth… adorable.

Oh shit.

I forgot we had a dinner to attend to.

The sudden realization led to a burst of laughter.

Ryujin brought her head back, confused at what I was laughing at, and asked “what happened?”

“Nothing” I replied

“Tell me!” she nagged, with a higher pitch from the afterglow of her orgasm.

“I think you forget that I’m buried inside you.” I planted her onto the bed, missionary style, and pumped–”Ah!” her moan enthusiastically approved the move. 

The wet slaps of our skin colliding with each other was wonderful. I pulled her legs up, each leg next to my ears, her thick thighs reverberating the wet slaps even more. We had no sense of time, everything outside our depth of field didn’t matter. Hundreds of hours wasted trying to be mindful, to be present, when I could just make Ryujin squirt on my cock in order to be present, in this moment, I realized my rudimentary instincts.

“Turn around” I demanded, in a tone befit to threaten.

“Ah~~Huh? What did you say?” She asked, a puzzled expression, one muddled with a pleasured expression.

I made sure she listened this time. I approached her head, then her ear, made sure my mouth was close to her ear. Slowly I demanded: “Turn around, point your ass to the sky, you slut…” I swear I could feel her nipple become harder whilst I was pinching it.

She submissively turned around, listening to my demands, pointing her beautiful ass to the sky, with her back arched, accentuating her beautiful bare back, the wideness of her hips, the slimness of her body. 

I gripped her waist tightly, everytime I have sex with her, I try to wrap my fingers around her waist. It's always so close, almost touching together. You may ask why I do it. I do it because I can.

“Look at my hands, they’re around your waist, my fingers are almost touching. Look at you squirm on my dick, I can hold you still with one hand around your waist and you’re unable to move, two hands and I own you.” I teased into her ear, pausing extra long every sentence, every pause, I had control, and she loved it.

“Let’s see how I squirm under you.” she said teasingly, biting her index finger as she rested her head against the bed, her face shaped by her beautiful grin, her back arched, reflexing momentarily when laughing.

Honestly, this is the greatest moment of my life, not the billions I made, not the honorary awards I won, it was her, the most beautiful person in the world, that provided me the greatest joy. She was covered in the beautiful sunlight, bent over, the white blanket only accentuating her beauty, her dark hair misshapen across the bed cover. She was bent over, her ass subtly waving at me, waiting for reprieve, waiting for her fire to be put out by my fire, to be dominated in my flames of passion.

And so, I gripped her firm ass cheeks, it was like memory foam, yet softer, yet firmer. I need not explain, she was a polarizing figure, the most paradoxical woman, a goddess. I positioned my tip on her moist lips. In my periphery, I saw her hands adorably clench the blanket, readying herself for the discrepancies in which we extricated our passions.

Yet and so, yet and so. Our sex was in stages, mentally, I dive deeper and deeper into my latent rudimentary mind, one that millenniums of humanity have tried to hard to de-evolve, and yet, she brings it out so easily, in her submissiveness, in her beauty, she knows it not, but she has greater control of me than I do over her. The last stage of the bloom of my caveman mind, an appendix that suddenly took control of the entire body. The soft sounds her pussy made as my dick caved her in prodded me on forth. Each prod a little closer to kissing the end of her cerix, each prod forcing me deeper into a relentless passion.

The absolute serenity of the setting forgotten, the present, the future, the past and what may be, what could be, all forgotten in the haze of the soft wet slaps of our loins. Her breathy moans against the pillow, my strong thrusts that clapped out wet sounds worthy of some of the most obscene sounds you can hear. Her hips moved stealthily, the separation of mind and body apparent for Ryujin, her mind was empty, her eyes retreated back into her head in pleasure, yet her body moved so steadily, her body implored for more, her ass was turning pink from the salivating passion of our sex. 

I took peeks anytime I could, staring at her lovely sex gripping on my cock, running trails of her arousal, a bright sheen even under a muted sunlight covering us. 

“Ah! Ah~~ please, go slower.”

That warranted a loud slap.

“Owww~!” she screamed into the bed, again, not bringing any resistance.

“You’ll take what I give, you needy slut.” I hooked my hand around her throat softly, naturally assuming ownership over her, I felt her soft, creamy back on my chest as I caved in her deeper, my entire lower half was solely dedicated to pleasure, my top half perhaps more sensibly pushed for ownership.

Her hot means grew more rampant, shorter, more intense, she approached her orgasm so beautifully, so poetically, her face knotted in pleasure so beautifully, how could I ever give her the justice she is due?

The wet slaps grew louder, because I approached my climax, because I wanted to see her ass deform with the inertia I put her through; skewering her on my cock, her ass slapping against my hips.

“Ungh~ Un~ Uuuuunnnghhhh~~!” a lengthy moan escaped her body as she climaxed, a warmer wetness covering my cock as I continually skewered her, pummeled her.

Her arms shivered in pleasure, yet I fucked her deeper, holding down her wrists into the bed. Her arms instinctually begged to be released, begging to shiver, shiver to relieve the pressure of her orgasm, but I’ll make sure that she couldn’t walk, make sure this bed is wet with her overstimulation.

I fucked her relentlessly, still making sure to take care of her, softly caressing her body. I began to slow down, the strokes getting slower, I was getting so close, so close.

“Cum on my pussy… Paint me with your seed…”   

Those four words pushed me into overdrive, throwing her over, pointing my sheathed cock, dangerously close to her pussy. 

Every muscle in my body was tight, I didn’t care if I hurt my dick when I fisted it, I cared about painting Ryujin, her beautiful body in my seed. Sprays went out, her eyes grew larger and larger after each rope of semen covered her lower half.

I felt like I was almost in a gridlock, every muscle tensed in determination, in pleasure, and slowly my body fell onto Ryujin softly as the shock of sudden relief poisoned my trance. Her arms were open with a warm embrace, hugging me, rubbing her lower body to smear her stickiness onto me.

“Yo-” About to scold her, when she kissed me, deep and passionate, loving and tense.

“Let’s go shower” she whispered, with a lovely doe-eyed stare, her arms still wrenching me toward her face.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After weeks of looking forward to a quiet day with you and Rose, Bradley almost messes up his own Father's Day celebration. He's lucky you're quick to forgive him. Every day with his daughter is a collection of moments he wants to commit to memory. Every day with you makes him fall more in love.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, blowjob, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 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.

"Do you have any big plans for Sunday? For Bradley's first Father's Day?"

You looked up from your computer when you realized Cat was talking to you. Truthfully, you did have plans, but they weren't big at all. Your husband just kept telling you that all he wanted was to spend the day with just the three of you.

"Isn't it kind of Jake's first Father's Day, too?" you countered with a grin. When Cat sputtered instead of actually answering, you felt like you'd won this wrong of proverbial chess against a master. "It's okay... you don't have to admit it out loud, but I just know Jake is exceeding all of your expectations."

She dropped down into the seat next to you and leaned in like she was afraid someone else might be listening. "He took Jer to the park with Bradley and Rose the other evening."

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "I needed to clean my house, so I kicked Bradley out and told him to call his bestie, Jake."

Cat looked a little panicked now. "No, you don't understand. I can trust him to take care of Jeremiah."

"Yeah... that's good, right?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "When I moved to California, it was my intention to never ever get involved with a man again. Just me and Jer. And then when he went away to college, I was going to start collecting exotic pets or something."

You tried not to laugh. "Yeah, Jake kind of ruined that agenda for you, huh?" She buried her face in her hands, and to your surprise, she started crying. You glanced around the lab, but Macy wasn't paying any attention as you put your arm around Cat's shoulders. You were very confused as you whispered, "Are you okay?"

Cat's dark eyes were wet with tears as she met your gaze while somehow shaking her head and nodding at the same time. Her voice was raspy and uneven as she said, "He bought an engagement ring."

"Jake proposed?" you gasped, ready to jump out of your seat. You knew for a fact he wanted to, but he kept saying he didn't think the time was exactly right yet. 

"No. I found the ring. He's terrible at hiding things."

You sat quietly for a minute while she worked at getting herself under control, but then more questions started to formulate in your mind. "I know this isn't where you saw yourself, Cat. I know trusting Jake after leaving your ex is something you've struggled with, but if you love him, then what's holding you back?"

Her fingertips were pressed to her lips, and her hand was shaking. You weren't sure she had even heard your question as she stared off into space and said, "I can't even accurately describe it, because it was so pretty. The diamond was huge. Absolutely enormous. Obviously expensive." She paused and pulled away from you, opening her computer like she didn't just let herself fall apart on your shoulder. "And I have nothing to offer except a child that isn't biologically his and a crippling amount of debt that I'll probably never see the end of." When you opened your mouth to respond, she slammed her computer shut again and said, "And now I'm late to meet with Bickel," before rushing out of the lab.

You stared at the door for a few seconds before you took your phone out and started to draft up a text for Cat. You didn't see her again for the rest of the day, and you didn't send the text until you got home with Bradley and Rose. But you meant every word of it.

You're tenacious and strong, and that's worth a lot more than money. You're the kind of person someone would want to buy a big diamond for.

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

"Why is everything so expensive?" Bradley muttered to himself. "Holy hell."

He was trying to plan out the few days he would have alone with you when your parents came out again for Independence Day. Going back to the oceanfront boutique hotel in La Jolla where you and he had celebrated his birthday two years ago was going to cost a fortune over the holiday.

"Rose isn't going to need money for college anyway," he mused, shrugging at his phone before charging the room to his credit card for three nights. His daughter was going to be a genius. She was already so strong, trying her best to roll over and getting better at holding her head up without support. Suddenly he needed to see her.

Bradley tossed his phone aside and headed for the nursery where you were feeding Rose in the glider chair. When you looked up at him expectantly, he said, "I missed you."

Your gaze was soft as he sat down on the floor next to your feet. "We were with you ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago? No wonder I was getting so lonely," he whispered, reaching out to run his finger along the back of Rose's hand. "Hey, Nugget."

She paused, lips pursed, before she continued eating. It was unreal how adorable she was. Bradley could look at his daughter all day long and never grow tired. He could look at your tits dripping milk all day long, too.

"Let me burp her," he said, making grabby hands as soon as she started to slow down. "It's my favorite."

You handed Rose, who was already dressed in her sleeper, to him, kissing him on the cheek as you stood. "Should I just keep these out for you?" The way you gestured at your breasts left a smile on his face.

"Please. I would very much enjoy it if you did."

You stretched your arms over your head and said, "I'll meet you either in the shower or in bed." Then you were gone, and he was excited to burp the baby and then do whatever you let him do to you.

"Let's see if we can get a nice, big burp out of you so you'll sleep for a few hours," he muttered, pulling one of the many storybooks down from the shelf from his spot on the floor. He'd read every book in the room to her multiple times already, and he couldn't wait until she started to have favorites. Tonight he read about a dragon while he patted and rubbed her back, pausing every page or two to kiss her soft cheek.

She was yawning by the last page of the book, and she did indeed burp for him. When he set her gently in her crib, Bradley whispered, "I can't believe I get to be your dad." He stood there, leaning on the side of the crib until he was certain she was asleep, then he headed for his own bedroom, unzipping his pants along the way.

Bradley found you naked in bed, fresh from the shower and rubbing lotion all over your legs. It was such a mundane yet intimate thing for him to watch, and you didn't realize he was in the doorway yet. "Get in bed," you told Tramp, nodding toward the fluffy mat he slept on next to the bathroom door. "You can't play with Rosie any more tonight. I'm sorry, but she needs to go to sleep after Daddy finishes reading to her."

"I'm finished reading to her."

Your gaze met his as your palms went gliding up your thighs, and you smiled a little shyly at him. Then you reached for the sheet like you were going to try to cover yourself, and he headed for the bed.

"Please don't, Baby Girl," he whispered. "I was really enjoying that view."

You paused and let your eyes drift down his body. "Get undressed and come here."

He did not need you to ask him twice. Bradley yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside followed by his tee shirt and his boxer briefs. You giggled when he climbed into bed in just his socks and hovered above you like he was going to do push ups with his hands planted next to your shoulders.

When he lowered himself down to give you a kiss, you raked your fingers through his hair. He knew there was no hiding how hard he was getting, so he didn't bother. He just pressed himself against you while you licked his bottom lip.

"You're really horny, Roo," you murmured, and he simply nodded. You let one hand drift down along his scarred cheek, and then you were touching your tits. 

He was salivating immediately. He could practically smell you. White beads of your milk formed on your nipples as you gently squeezed yourself, and he whimpered your name. His cock was tapping against your thigh in excitement as he lowered himself down to kiss your lips again.

"It's okay," you whispered. "I know you want to. Go ahead."

Bradley sighed and came to rest on his elbows, letting his mouth meet your nipples.

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

You spent all day Saturday running to three different grocery stores to buy ingredients for Bradley's Father's Day picnic lunch. It cost a small fortune to get everything you needed to make chicken salad sandwiches on homemade bread, a charcuterie board, fruit salad, and brownies. Your plan was to get up very early on Sunday to start making everything, but now Bradley's words made you feel like you were going to cry.

"I'm playing golf in the morning."

He was so nonchalant about it, you thought perhaps he was joking at first. But his expression showed a tiny bit of alarm and remorse, and you knew he was actually ditching you and Rose on Father's Day.

When you spoke, you hated how small your voice sounded. "You said all you wanted was a day with just the three of us."

"I do!" he insisted, reaching for you and pulling you close. "That's all I want. I promise I'll be home by lunchtime."

With that, you excused yourself to go to bed. You didn't bother to set an alarm, because what was the point? Rose would wake you up when she started crying her lungs out to eat, and Bradley would already be gone with Jake, Javy and Reuben. Honestly, you would have thought Jake would want to be home with Cat and Jer, and now you were mad at him, too. You thought about texting him but turned your phone screen side down on your nightstand and tossed your glasses aside instead.

A few minutes later, Bradley climbed in bed as well, and you could feel him trying to coax you closer. "I love you," he whispered, but you stayed curled up in a ball until you fell asleep.

Sure enough, he was gone when you woke up. You didn't even bother changing out of your pajamas to feed Rose. Your plans to wear a cute sundress seemed pointless now as you tried to appease your cranky daughter while you made chicken salad and baked a small loaf of bread.

"You'd probably calm down if your dad were here," you mused, handing her toy after toy only for her to push them all away. Finally Tramp had mercy on you and plopped down next to her on her play mat for a few minutes.

Of course the picnic foods looked absolutely perfect, and you struggled to get Rose burped and down for a late morning nap. "I swear you don't act like this for him," you groaned, fighting the urge to start crying. You'd been feeling better over the past few weeks. Your body was becoming more your own again, even though you were still sharing it with your daughter. The birth control and the healing time were certainly helping, but right now, you and Rose came in second place to a round of golf. On Father's Day.

She spit up all over you before she fell asleep, forcing you to change into your dress anyway. The wrapped present on the coffee table along with the homemade card were enough to make you set a timer for noon. If he wasn't back, you were going to eat the meal yourself. Your stomach was already growling.

But Bradley came through the door at 11:58 wearing gym shorts and a tank top with his aviators low on his nose. "Sweetheart," he said, sounding a little bit out of breath as he headed your way. "You look pretty."

Did he think you were stupid? You got up from the couch and turned off the timer. "Where were you, Bradley? Because you weren't playing golf dressed like that."

His cheeks flushed pink at the same time you noticed something wrapped around his right bicep. When he held his arm out to his side, you gasped.

"Why didn't you just tell me that's where you were going?" you whispered, tears burning your eyes. You felt frustrated and embarrassed that you got upset in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he murmured, wrapping his left arm around your waist. "I've been waiting to do this since you told me you were pregnant." You buried your face against his chest and let yourself cry. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said I was golfing. I panicked when they called me back and said they could fit me in this morning. I just really wanted to get my second paper plane as soon as possible."

He held you tight with both arms wrapped around you. "You said you just wanted a day with your girls, and I planned a picnic and got you a present, and then you said you wanted to fucking play golf," you sobbed. "Next time just tell me you're getting another tattoo, okay? Because now when you say you're going golfing, I'm going to think you're getting another one anyway."

"Hey," Bradley rasped, tilting your chin so you were looking up at him. "I'm spending the rest of today with my girls. That really is all I wanted to do today. I'm sorry I lied to you. I feel terrible about it now." His brown eyes were sincere which made you feel a lot better, and now you weren't mad at Jake anymore.

"Can I see it?" you whispered, and he immediately started to unwrap his arm. Right there next to the large paper airplane that had Baby Girl written across it was a smaller one that said Rose in the same script. "God, Roo. It's perfect."

"Just like my girls."

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

Okay, so he came within an inch of completely fucking things up on Father's Day. It wasn't like he planned it that way. He wasn't even sure why he said he was going to play golf. None of his friends would even make a tee time on Father's Day and include him. Or Jake for that matter. Plus, Bradley was fucking terrible at lying. He felt apprehensive the entire time he was getting the tattoo done.

It didn't even really matter if you knew about it ahead of time, but he wanted it to be a surprise declaration of his love for his family. Instead he made you stress out and cry, because of course you had a whole fucking day planned. You loved him that much.

He was right there with you and Rose for the rest of the afternoon. He changed her diapers and helped you pack up the food along with a bottle of pink champagne that was tucked way back behind everything else in the refrigerator. He carried everything out to the Bronco and got both of you buckled in. Then he started driving where you told him to.

"Are we going to our wedding venue?" he asked after a few minutes, and you started laughing.

"Is that what we're calling the parking lot?"

"Sweetheart. That's our wedding venue." Rose hadn't been to that beach yet, and now he was excited. So excited. "Rosie, we're going to show you where Mommy first kissed me and fell so in love that she's incapable of being mad at me even though I didn't tell her I was going to get tattooed this morning."

Now you were laughing harder, and you turned his playlist up a little louder, and the sun felt a little brighter. When he pulled into the parking lot, he backed into the spot where you became his wife, and then he strapped Rose into her baby carrier against his chest.

Bradley watched you pull Rosie's little sun hat out of the diaper bag, and you kissed her nose before putting it on her head. "Don't want you to get too much sun." Then you led the way down the rocky path to the sand below where you spread out a beach blanket. You tugged Bradley's hand until he was on his knees, and then you kissed his nose as well. "Don't want you getting too much sun either."

When he remembered the sunburn he got the day of Mickey's birthday kegger, he shuddered, but you were already squeezing some sunblock onto your hands and smoothing it along his face. You smiled when you got some in his mustache, and Bradley leaned closer to kiss you, and then he didn't want to stop. You ended up on your back on the blanket with sunblock on your nose while Bradley cradled Rose's head.

"Happy first Father's Day," you whispered, running your fingers up inside his sleeve to touch the wrapping around his bicep. "Rose is lucky you're her daddy."

The lunch you made was absolutely perfect. Bradley couldn't remember ever having homemade bread before, and he ate two sandwiches in a row. You and he drank the champagne from the bottle on the blanket before walking down to the water. Your tipsy giggles as he dipped Rose's toes in the water made him smile.

"She hates it!" you cackled when Rose pulled her legs up and wailed. Bradley lowered her down again when the next wave came in, and she pulled her feet away from the water once again.

"Aww, Daddy's sorry," he said, lifting her up and flying her around in the air like a plane to get her to calm down. "I'll take you to Virginia Beach where the water is warmer," he promised. "And we can go to the cemetery and visit Grampy Goose and Grandma Carole. How does that sound?"

His daughter looked much happier at the prospect of warmer water and more time with grandparents. Even though Bradley was here with his family, he couldn't help but think about everything he missed out on. Everything he was still missing out on. 

He never had a dad to fly him around or dip his toes in the water, at least not that he could remember. All he could recall were glimpses of laughter and being lifted out of his crib. He could almost hear a voice, but he wasn't sure if it was even Nick's or if his memory was playing a trick on him.

Bradley held onto Rose a little tighter as you let your head rest on his shoulder. Your voice was soft, barely loud enough for him to hear you over the waves. "I wish I could have met them. I wish they were here to see you with Rose."

He knew one thing for a fact. "They would have loved this little Nugget."

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

Quite effortlessly, Bradley led you back up the rocks while he carried Rose and all the gear. As soon as the sun started to set, the wind picked up and the air got chilly. Even though you nursed Rose, you knew she was going to need to eat again so she could fall asleep.

"Oh, you still have to unwrap your present," you told Bradley when you got home and walked past the living room table.

"Right now?" he asked with a smirk.

"If you want to."

He started to take your shirt off, and you ducked out of his grasp with a laugh. "Not me!"

"I don't want anything else though," he rasped, still reaching for you, but you pushed him toward Rose on her play mat instead.

"She needs a quick bath while you open your present, and then I'll give you a blowjob after she's in her crib."

"Hell yes," Bradley muttered, scooping up the baby and the wrapped gift and heading for the bathroom. You filled up Rosie's little tub, and he set her down in the water then started unwrapping the present but keeping his attention mostly on his daughter. 

"Do you like it?" you asked over your shoulder, and then he realized he was holding a book. A book about him and you and Rose and Tramp.

Bradley flipped through the pages, staring in awe at the cartoon versions of his family. Each of you had been drawn as a superhero, and even the sketched version of Tramp was wearing a little red cape.

"This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. How did you get this?"

"I had it made," you told him. "I sent photos of all of us to a local artist, and she created the book for you."

"Damn," he whispered, tears in his eyes as he looked at each page again. "I'm such a sappy mess now, I swear." Then he sat down on the floor next to you while you rinsed the sand from Rose's tiny feet and started to read the book out loud. "Once upon a time, the Super Bradshaw Family was just about to eat dinner when Super Dad Bradley's phone rang. The city of San Diego needed help, and there was nobody better to turn to."

The story was fun, and the drawings were silly, and he just knew Rose would probably adore this book when she got a little bit older. And he was so lucky he had a wife who did things like turn him into a cartoon superhero for Father's Day and make him a four course picnic lunch.

He also had a wife who dropped to her knees as soon as they were alone. You looked up at him as you pulled his shorts and underwear down to his thighs, kissing his cock as you whispered, "There's my Super Daddy Bradley."

He grinned as he pulled his shirt off as well, enjoying how pretty you looked below his flat abs with your hand cupping his balls. "You absolutely own me, Baby Girl. I'm a fucking wreck for you. I'm all tattooed for my girls now. If you want me to be your Super Daddy, you know I will be."

You licked your lips and parted them, and then Bradley was in heaven.

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

I need Jer to have a dad. I need it in my bones. I also need Bradley to have a sensational 38th birthday before he packs his bags and goes to La Jolla with his wife for three days in bed. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[jobean12-blog]

For the Love of Plants...and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (plant!dad Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,229

Summary: You and Bucky go shopping for new plants and he has the best idea.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @sagechanoafterdark shared this wonderful little idea with me and I was so happy to have inspiration for more plant!dad Bucky! YAY! Thanks so much Sage! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's soft, sweet and fun, spicy and silly, some implied sexy times and Bucky is delish.

*If you want to read more about plant!dad Bucky you can find his other stories on his Masterlist labeled with 'plant!dad Bucky AU'*

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else doll?”

You look up from the current plant in front of you and stare unblinkingly for a moment before bursting into giggles.

Bucky’s arms are full of plants and his handsome face is obscured by various leaves and flowers.

You sift through the flora that hides him and find his blue eyes bright and crinkled at the corners with his wide smile.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…you’re so cute.”

His cheeks become tinged with a flush of pink and you lean through the leaves to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for carrying everything. We really need to start getting a cart.”

“Nah doll, then we’ll go home with even more plants. And you don’t have room for more plants. At least this way we are limited to what I can carry.”

“What are you saying Bucky?” you ask with feigned shock.

He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that he thinks you’re serious.

You open your mouth to speak and reassure him you were just teasing but he beats you to it and says, “I’m going to build you new shelves.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

“Doll?” he asks, trying to see you from around the armfuls of plants.

“You want…you want to build me shelves for my plants?”

He finds a free space on the plant stand outside and places a few down so he can actually see you.

“Yeah. Of course. I want you to have all the plants you can fit.”

“I didn’t know you could build things.”

Your voice comes out slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a devious smirk.

“Sounds like you like that I can do that,” he murmurs as he slips his free arm around your waist and tucks you into his side. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm,” you hum, laying your flat palm against his chest. “Very good actually.”

He dips his head to capture your lips, lingering with a soft kiss that has your fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Do you have a tool belt?” you ask him when he finally pulls away.

“I do.”

“You should do it shirtless. So, you don’t get too warm.”

“So shirtless with my toolbelt. Anything else?”

You tap your chin playfully.

“Your dark wash jeans. The really fitted ones.”

“Is this some secret fantasy you have?”

You bury your face in his neck and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t until you said you could build me shelves!” you squeak.

“This is gonna be fun,” he simpers as he releases you to grab the plants again. “Let’s go check out.”

As promised, later that day Bucky shows up at your place in his dark jeans with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” you ask.

He covers his laugh with a cough and grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t want to take the train shirtless.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You answer. “Right.”

He laughs. “Right.”

“I know you think this is hilarious, but you don’t understand…”

His expression softens. “What do you mean doll?”

“It means a lot to me that you’d do this, and you support my love of plants.”

“Of course I would. And of course I do. And you know I love plants too.”

“I know, but even if you didn’t I just know you’d do it anyway.”

He brushes his lips lightly across yours, holding your gaze as he whispers, “I would.”

“Can we take this off now?” you ask as your fingers slide down his chest and under the hem of his shirt.

“Sure.”

He kicks the door shut with his booted foot and lifts his arms above his head. You start to peel the shirt from his body, the action deliberate as you watch every inch of his toned stomach come into view.

After staring at the distinct V shape at his hips you focus on the dark trail of hair just under his belly button then practically let out a moan when his abs flex and move as he shimmies.

“This is like porn,” you sigh dreamily.

That makes him laugh and he gets tangled in the sleeves of his tee.

You keep staring, enjoying all the shifting muscles of his torso.

“Little help here doll face.”

“Oh!...sorry Buck!”

You slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, letting your fingertips run along the smooth metal of his left arm.

“There. Perfect.”

He takes you in his arms and spins you around until your back is against the door. Trapping you in place he settles both hands on either side of your head.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs. “Not sure I can get to work just yet.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “Look at you.”

Your finger slips into the waistband of his jeans, and you give him a sharp tug, drawing him closer.

His hips press into your stomach, and you feel the hard length of him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and toy with the button of his jeans before running your fingers along the leather of his tool belt.

The muscles in his stomach tense every time your skin touches his and you watch his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheeks with his barely controlled restraint.

His toolbelt drops to the floor with a loud thud and you pull the zipper of his jeans down.

“Doll,” he hisses when your hand slips inside his jeans.

You slide down to your knees, taking his jeans with you.

“Fuck you look so perfect on your knees for me,” he grits out.

You stretch out along the hard wood floor and press yourself against him.

Bucky’s fingers soothingly slide up and down your arm, his eyes closed and his breathing finally even.

“You need to make me a list of all the things you want me to build,” he says.

You laugh as you twirl a strand of his hair between your fingers. “It will be the longest list ever.”

“It better be,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pinning them on you. “I’ll building anything and everything if we can start every project like that.”

You kiss his neck, working your way to his chin and then along his jaw before climbing on top of him and kissing his lips.

“Deal!”

His hands are soft as they reverently trace the curve of your hips and waist. “You know what we still have to do?” he asks.

“What?” you smile.

“Name all the new plants!”

Your smile widens. “WE DO!”

You kiss him again and reluctantly move off him so he can get up. Once you’re both dressed, Bucky sans shirt of course, he starts working on the shelves.

You hold up one of your new plants, Devil’s ivy, and twirl the pot between your fingers, gently fingering the leaves.

“What do you think Buck?” you ask. “How about…Spaghetti!”

He looks up from the wood in his hands and nods with a smile. “That’s a good one, especially for the ivy.”

As soon as he finishes the thought his stomach promptly grumbles, making you both laugh.

“I’m just going to name these last two then I’ll start dinner…how does spaghetti sound?”

“Perfect doll face. It sounds perfect.”

[pomefioredove]

Hiii :D

I was wondering if you could do headcanons on Octavinelle (or) Savanaclaw with a Siren reader who's a singer at Octavinelle— who gets comments and remarks against them because they're a siren, claiming their 'vicious' or 'easy' because of their race stereotypes— even if it's not the case. I feel as though it would be interesting to think about🤔

oooh okay interesting interesting

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ siren reader

type of post: headcanons characters: azul, floyd, jade additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu

as if being a merperson on land isn't hard enough, the worst attention you get comes from the other merpeople on campus

you seem to have a reputation before you even arrive at NRC; the weird looks, the subtle, unflattering comments, the sneers and whispers...

it's unavoidable. you start to think that you may never make any friends. and then...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul really, really didn't want to feel bad for you. he has a reputation to uphold, after all, and if he were to let his walls down because of a little pity... no, no, absolutely not. there are no handouts in life. and if you're anything like him, you'll teach yourself how to get ahead

but... that's just the thing, isn't it? you're like him

Sevens, help him...

so, he looks out for you. he sends the tweels to... handle the students who gossip and spread rumors. he invites you to work at the lounge, knowing you have quite the voice on you

all out of the goodness of his heart(s)

he considers your singing at the lounge payment enough, anyway. it really is beautiful...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Floyd has literally zero regard for social status or whatever. if he likes you, he likes you, and that's it. will he torture you? a little, but that's how he shows his love!

besides, having him hold your things over his head so he can watch you squirm a little is well worth it. a small price to pay for his protection, since he's now decided that he is the only person allowed to bully you, and anyone who breaks that unspoken rule will have to answer to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

has Jade ever been one to judge? certainly not. it's not like he and his brother don't have a reputation of their own, anyway. and he's always been drawn to the dark and morbidly fascinating, not repulsed by it. quite honestly, he wouldn't mind if you were to put a spell on him and eat him. he'd probably enjoy it tbh

but you wouldn't. not unless he asks?. so he's perfectly content with your company as it is

[flemingsfreckles]

Drunk Dial Pt. 3

Read the rest of the series here

Warnings: mentions of sex, illusions to sex, cursing, verbal argument, basically Jessie and R yelling at each other for the majority of this chapter

WC: 3.4k

A/N: this is the end of this little series, i have a feeling some of you won’t be too happy with this being where i leave it, but this is sort of a left up to your interpretation ending… don’t forget some of you voted for this ;) (unknowingly, but you did)

You stood looking at yourself in the bathroom off of Haley’s bedroom. Across your body, a sleep shirt from some college, not one you attended and it wasn’t the familiar UCLA logo you had grown to know. On your bottom a pair of sleep shorts you didn’t recognize either. You had just woken up but you were ready to go home, you didn’t need to stay here, you felt out of place being here. That’s when you see your phone light up, Jessie’s face across it.

“Shit shit shit.” You scramble to grab your phone.

You quickly pop your head into Haley’s bedroom. “Uh, sorry, phone call, I should take this. It’s um, work.” You lied, she nodded and pointed out the door toward her living room.

Once the door is closed behind you, you take a deep breath and answer the call, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey.” You whisper.

“Hey, why are you whispering?” Jessie’s tone immediately turned accusatory.

“Um, no reason.” You say, clearing your throat and trying to make the hush in your voice less obvious. It’s not like you could tell her where you were, she didn’t need to know the choices you made last night and how regretful you were about them this morning.

“Okay, well I’m on my way over, we need to talk. About last night, about the other night, we need to talk about all of it.”

“Um.” You frantically look around the living room, finding your sweatshirt that had been haphazardly thrown off last night, slipping it over your head. “I’m not home right now. So just give me a little bit.”

“Where are you? It’s 8 in the morning.” You could hear traffic in the background of Jessie’s call, an indication she was likely already on her way.

“No where, I can be there in like 30 minutes.” You hang up before she can ask you any more questions about your whereabouts. You open the bedroom door, Haley is now sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up around her body.

“Hey sorry, I um, I have to go, work calls.” You play it off with a smile and a shake of your cell phone.

“Oh no worries.” She waves a hand at you and gives you a polite smile.

My clothes?” You question the girl.

“Should still be out by the couch.”

“Right, thanks.” You hurry out toward the couch, grabbing the pile of clothes before heading back into the bathroom, quickly taking off the shirt and shorts you had been lent, putting your own jeans and shirt from the night before back on. You walk out of the bathroom, giving Haley another look. “I put the dirty ones in the basket.”

“Got it, thanks.” She gives you a nod. “Have a good rest of your day, I’ll text you. Good luck with, ya know, everything.”

“Thanks.” You give her a tightlipped smile before excusing yourself and heading out her bedroom door and down the hall out of her apartment. You hopped in your car, barely letting it turn on before you threw it in drive. Driving faster than you should have, you raced to your place, hoping somehow you would be able to beat Jessie there.

Your heart drops when you turn the corner toward the entryway of your building and there stands Jessie. You can see the expression on Jessie’s face turn sour, nearly a smile at the start before she examines you and she’s suddenly sporting a scowl. “So I guess that date must have been better than you lead on.” Jessie states as she looks you up and down once you’re a few feet from her.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Are you sure? You clearly went to see someone after you left me.” She gestures to your clothing, you suddenly wish you had spare clothes in the car, or you had worn Haley’s clothes home, you could’ve played it off that you had bought new ones, that Jessie just hasn’t seen them before. But you were wearing the clothes she had touched and seen last night, she knew. “I have a feeling it was her. You left me, for her, for someone you barely know.”

“Jessie, that’s not what happened.” You notice your voice raising, trying to defend yourself in an unfortunate situation.

“You sure? Because that’s how it feels and that’s what it fucking looks like.” Jessie raises her voice right back at you, something she had hardly done when the two of you were together, occasionally during an argument but the Canadian held her temper and emotions close most of the time. She waved a hand up and down reminding you that you were in fact still in your clothes from last night.

“Can we do this inside?” You look around at the pedestrian traffic that is passing by the two of you. A couple giving you looks as the two of you argued.

“Sure.” Jessie says, rolling her eyes but following you silently as you open the door to your building and walk to the elevator. The ride up is quiet, as is the walk down the hallway. Once inside your apartment you find your way to the dining room, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“So we should talk about what happened, all of it.” You say, a twinge in annoyance in your voice.

“Where do you want to start?” Jessie says, propping herself against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest.

the way she stood, arms crossed in defense as if you were the only one in the wrong here, pissed you off. “Oh I don’t know Jessie. Maybe the part where you hid the fact that I told you my feelings when I was drunk? Or how when I left the next morning you told me you weren’t in love with me anymore, only for you drunkenly invited me out last night only to drop the bomb on me that you do in fact still love me? Or how you were trying to get me to take you home and fuck you last night? We have options Jessie, where do you want to start?”

“Where do I want to start?” She stares back at you, raising her voice slightly. “You’re the one who broke the no contact that we had agreed on in the first place calling me after you got stood up! You’re the one who hid these feelings and were too scared to tell me all this time. Then you confess them while you’re drunk, leaving me in a weird spot. I didn’t know what to do. Not to mention your little “gift” you gave me. I’m sorry for calling you yesterday if that’s what you want to hear. But coming yesterday and then pawning me off to Arnold was a shitty move.”

“I didn’t pawn you off, jez Jessie, I wanted to make sure you were safe! You were drunk, it wasn’t the right time for us to talk, or sort this out.” You throw your hands up at her, fists clenched in frustration.

“But it was the time for you to go fuck some girl you hardly know?!” Her cheeks were starting to turn the familiar red that you used to tease her for, you always thought she looked adorable with the slight blush, only now that blush that was caused by compliments or teasing comments was now being caused by the way she yelled at you.

“I didn’t fuck her!” You scream back, your hand coming down to hit the table. You had never yelled at Jessie like this, not when you argued or fought, not when you broke up, never.

Jessie scoffs, “I find that hard to believe.” She’s still defensive in her tone but it’s quieter, almost as if she’s scared.

You immediately drop the anger from your voice. “Jessie I didn’t. I wasn’t in a good mood last night when I left the bar, I panicked, and I called her because I needed someone. I got to her place, and when she let me in, we watched a movie and talked and I broke down about you to her. I was hysterical, I didn’t know what to do.”

That was the truth. You had been embarrassed about it, you showed up to Haley’s door. You knew she was likely expecting sex, that you had called her for a late night hook up. Instead what she got was you at her doorstep, asking to talk.

You started off by apologizing for wasting her time on your date earlier that day. You told her you weren’t ready to commit to anything, and you should’ve realized that before trying to date again. She had been understanding, not making you feel any worse for what had happened. The two of you agreed friendship could be the path you take instead. The more you two talked the more you told her. You told her about Jessie, your past and your current feelings. She offered as good of advice as she could and when you cried about it, she comforted you, offering you to stay the night due to how late it was. You took her up on the offer for the couch, and also for the pair of old shorts and shirt to sleep in. You thought nothing of it, no one would know, it wouldn’t be a problem. You hadn’t expected Jessie to call you bright and early the next morning demanding to see you instantly.

“But you spent the night, you were there this morning, that’s why you were whispering.”

“On the couch! I spent the night on the couch!” You exclaim. “Jessie, I don’t know how to prove it, nothing happened between her and I, we didn’t even kiss. She was being a friend, that’s all I see myself being with her.”

“I find that so hard to believe!”

“We didn’t do anything, nothing!”

“Fine, let’s say you didn’t fuck her, did you go with the intention of fucking her? Did you plan to use her to get over me, to get me out of your head?”

Her question catches you off guard. “I-” you stutter, unsure of what to say and unsure of what your answer even should be. The truth was, you didn’t know. Maybe some tiny bit of you thought maybe you’d get laid, maybe some bit of you just wanted attention, the comfort of another body on yours, some part of you wanted someone to rant to, complain to. You just wanted someone.

Jessie clicks her tongue as you struggle to find the right words. “That’s all I need to know.” She nods slowly before starting to turn away from you.

“No Jessie, wait!” You stand up fast, knocking your chair out from behind you, creating a loud crash that has Jessie turning back to see what had happened. You leave the chair, climbing over it to make your way closer to her.

“No, because clearly you don’t know what you want, I can’t get involved with you again if you don’t know what you want.” She says walking away and towards the door.

“I know what I want.” You say as you walk after her, you couldn’t let her walk out of that door on you, you couldn’t lose her for a second time. You reach your hand out, catching hers stopping her in her tracks. She shakes her hand from your grip.

“I’m leaving.” Her hand turns the doorknob and as she steps out she turns back. “Call me once you have your head on straight and can actually talk with me.”

Being beyond frustrated your anger comes back and you shout at her as you watch her head down the hallway. “Fuck you Jessie, you invited yourself over, no warning, nothing, what if I wasn’t ready to talk?!”

She doesn’t answer, she doesn’t even turn back, doesn’t lift her head. She ignores you. The door to the stairs is swung open and her figure quickly disappears as she leaves out of your building.

“Fuck.” It wasn’t going to fix anything but shouting made it hurt less for the time being, so did the swift kick you gave to the door as you closed it.

That was your chance. That was your chance and you fucked it up.

You sent the rest of the afternoon spiraling, unsure of what to say, what to do, nothing felt right. You had cried, your eyes and head both still throbbing as a result. You spent a fair amount of time staring off at the wall, feeling numb to your surroundings. It wouldn’t change anything, you had the opportunity and you failed to win her back. When you tucked yourself into bed early, you tried everything in your power but to think of that brown eyes girl.

But you couldn’t get her out of your mind, she was in every thought, every emotion you had.

“This is so stupid.” The same words you had mumbled to yourself as you got out of your warm bed you repeated to yourself as you started walking. You were walking down the streets of Portland at quarter to midnight, not your brightest idea but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. You should’ve driven, probably safer and faster, but walking cleared your head and that’s what you needed, a clear head.

You walked yourself all the way to the doorstep of Jessie’s townhome, banging on the door. Raising your fist again to knock the door swings open and you nearly punch the Canadian.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is raspy, a little deep, you realize you’ve probably woken her from a sleep. She steps onto the porch closing the door behind her.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave earlier. I should have never let you leave. I still want you Jessie, I was stupid before, so stupid to let you ever go, I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve figured something else out, I should’ve tried something else before we called it quits.” You confess to her.

“So what, are you still in love with me?” The silence between the two of you after she asked was painful, you could practically hear your own blood pumping through your body. You definitely hadn’t expected such a direct question right off the start with her, but at least you’d get straight to the point.

“Are you?” You stare blankly back at Jessie, throwing her own question in her face. The two of you stand eye to eye, neither of you answering.

“What did I tell you at the bar yesterday?” Jessie finally says.

Squinting at her you’re not sure if it’s a rhetorical question or if you should answer, you take the safer option and just reiterate what she told you drunkenly last night. “That you were, you still loved me, you were still in love with me, that you had been too scared to tell me.”

“Then there’s your answer.” Jessie says, as if you were supposed to have assumed that on your own.

The longer you stared at her face the more you felt your anger and frustration with her fade and replacing it was the overwhelming urge to complete her request from last night, push her softly inside the door, kiss her against the wall, lift her into your arms and make the blind walk to her bedroom that you knew so well, take her to bed, make her yours again. Easier said than done and you knew taking her to bed would just complicate the already confusing situation the two of you were in.

“Then you know my answer too Jess.” The nickname slips out of your mouth, it wasn’t something you had called her in a long time. “I don’t know how to prove it, but please just trust me, nothing happened between me and that girl, nothing, Jessie I love you too much to do that.”

Bringing her hand up, she lets her fingers run through her hair before she pulls at the bottom of her sleep shirt. She releases a sigh and looks at the ground.

“So what does that mean for us?” She looks up at you, her brown eyes have a small glisten to them from the moon above both of your heads. You missed her eyes. You missed how she’d wink at you across a crowded room and your stomach would flutter, how she’d look up at you when you came to the side of the pitch to say hello after a game, how she’d steal glances at you when you sat snuggled into the couch. Those eyes made you feel seen in a way no one had before.

“What do you think it means?” You knew what you wanted it to mean, but you didn’t know if she felt the same.

“God some things never change do they?” Jessie fights back a smile as she looks at you with a small shake of her head.

“What does that mean?” You feel yourself starting to get defensive, your tone changing.

“You, the indecisiveness, you could never make choices when we were together. You could never pick a movie, never could pick a board game to play, never pick a restaurant, you never wanted to be the one to make the call, you could never pick anything.”

“I picked you Jessie. And I’d still pick you, everyday.” That was the truth, that was what you had been trying to say to her all along. She was your person, she was it for you, you just hoped she’d feel the same.

“If you’re actually choosing me then do it, pick me and tell me what you want to do, don’t put this on me, make a damn decision for once.” Jessie’s tone had shifted, less angry, less frustrated, it was soft and almost needy as if she was begging you.

“I’m not saying we're dating or that we even go on dates, or hook up, or anything. I’m also not saying we will ever go back to dating, we didn’t work the first time, who’s to say we would now, but I want to try, with you because I still love you, I’ve never stopped loving you. So maybe we start with removing that no contact plan we had? We talk again, we text again, you know, baby steps?” You feel yourself hold your breath when you finish speaking, as if you’re scared you’ve made a poor choice, that she’ll be mad at your proposal.

“Baby steps.” She gives a slow nod of her head, looking you up and down. “Okay, yeah, we can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll text you then.” You can feel the happiness blossoming in your chest.

“Sounds good, get home safe.” Jessie says before turning back to her door. You practically skip down the stairs and down the street all the way back to your home, feeling elated that you might have a chance to finally fix what you had broken months ago.

Jessie turned back, resting against the door, eyes closed. She perked up at the sound of footsteps coming in her direction, straightening up and blinking her eyes quickly as she made out the figure coming toward her.

“You alright? Who was that?” Jessie’s eyes fell on the dark haired girl standing in front of her who was wearing her old grey UCLA shirt that she had always let you borrow and a pair of her boxers. Jessie didn’t know her well, she hardly remembered her name as she stood looking at the woman. The dark red hickey that she had sucked into the unknown girl’s neck just hours ago was peeking out of the collar. Jessie knew there were a lot more hiding under her shirt as well. A wave of guilt flashed through her body, she had just been trying to get even. She hadn’t realized she’d woken her by leaving the bed, she had barely heard the knocking on the door.

Jessie shook her head at the girl. “No one. Wrong house number. You can go back to bed, I’ll be there in a second.”

[fruitjoos]

do you trust me?

bully!patrick x reader

summary: bully patrick…. leads to [redacted] 18+

warnings friendly banter, light smut + i’m a little rusty so… be gentle

you met patrick when you were ten. he lived next door, just a skinny kid with dirty sneakers who always wanted to ride bikes. you didn’t mind. the two of you were inseparable then, tethered by boredom and proximity. you got older, though. things shift. kids don’t stay innocent, not for long.

by high school, patrick had drifted, caught up with the boys who reeked of arrogance and cigarettes, the ones who slammed lockers too hard and swaggered through the halls like they owned them. you were still you. quiet, stubborn. not the kind of person who backed down, but never loud about it either. when patrick started cracking jokes at your expense, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it shouldn’t, but god, did it sting. the way he laughed too loud, punched your shoulder too hard, joined his new friends in making you the punchline.

the first time he called you "freak" it landed like a rock to the chest. right there in the middle of a crowd, his voice sharp, eyes avoiding yours. you tried to brush it off, tried to pretend that the patrick from years ago was still buried somewhere under the snide smirks and dirty jokes. but when he started pulling your hair, burping in your face, it was harder to believe.

then there was the history project. the one that felt like a joke before it even started. partners, the teacher said, and you hoped, quietly, fiercely, that patrick wouldn’t be assigned to you. but life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it? your name with his, as if the universe couldn’t resist rubbing salt in the wound. his groan reached your ears before yours even escaped your throat, and when he asked to switch partners, the heat rose to your cheeks. it was like you were something to be ashamed of, something small and pitiful.

after school, he found you at your locker, the same locker he used to stand next to, back when he wasn’t so... different. "what's up, loser," he muttered, shoulder checking you as if it were nothing, like you hadn’t spent summers kicking soccer balls in the backyard, sharing popsicles and trading comic books. now, all he had for you was sarcasm and a half hearted, "i’ll be over at six to work on the project."

he didn’t even wait for a reply. just walked off, hands shoved in his pockets like the conversation was already forgotten. his friends watched him go, smirking, like you were just another part of their cruel little game.

you got home, trying to shake off the sour taste the day left in your mouth. your dad asked how school was, but it was a formality. he wasn’t really listening, not past your shoulder, at least. "good," you lied, because the truth wasn’t worth the effort.

then the doorbell rang. you knew it was him before you even checked. he used to come over without knocking, back when things were simpler. now, it felt wrong, like he didn’t belong here anymore, yet he walked in like he still did, brushing past you without so much as a glance. the strap of his bag almost hit your face. typical.

your mom lit up like it was some reunion, like she didn’t notice the shift between you. “patrick, sweetheart,” she cooed, pulling him into a hug, her hand smoothing over his curls like she used to. it made your stomach twist, hearing her treat him like he hadn’t changed. but he had, hadn’t he?

you didn’t wait around for their small talk. upstairs felt safer, quieter. patrick followed, like he always had a right to, like he didn’t need to ask permission. he knew the way. he’d been in your room a hundred times. back then, when he was your friend. now, though, he was just the guy who sat behind you in class, yanked your ponytail when he wanted answers, and whispered insults under his breath.

funny how things turn out.

time dragged, the minutes between words heavy, like even the clock didn’t want to be there. patrick sat slouched at your desk, picking at his fingernails, bored already. he mentioned he only had an hour. just enough time before he had to meet his friends at the dump. a dive bar downtown, the kind of place that smelled like sweat and stale beer. you raised an eyebrow, asking if he was even old enough to get in, knowing full well he wasn’t. he pulled out a fake ID with a flourish, like it was something to be proud of. 23. five years older than his real age. you shook your head, a bitter scoff escaping before you could stop it.

"what?" he snapped, catching the edge in your voice. "stop being such a goody two shoes, will you?" he leaned in, voice dropping low, sharp. "no one likes a prude." his words, hissed in your own room, your space, hit harder than you thought they would. this wasn’t the boy who used to make you laugh until you cried. this wasn’t the patrick who snuck out to the park with you at midnight, just to talk about stupid dreams and shared your secrets with.

you could feel the tears gathering, uninvited, in the corners of your eyes. you didn’t want to cry. not in front of him. not when he’d see it as some kind of victory. but it was like he could sense it, the moment your breath hitched. he sighed, like the weight of your sadness was too much for him to carry. “don’t,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “don’t cry, okay?”

but it was too late, and the first tear slipped down your cheek. you sniffled, wiping at your face quickly, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, but his tone changed. "i’m sorry," he said, almost too soft to believe. he said it again, as if repetition might make it real. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it.”

for a few long moments, neither of you said anything. you sat there, on the edge of your bed, while he fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, the silence growing thicker, heavier.

then he spoke, too casually, too easily. “i know how to make you feel better.”

“lay back,” he said, his voice firmer than you expected, almost a command. you blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you asked, still wiping the tears from your cheeks, not sure if you heard him right.

“do you trust me?” he asked, and his eyes had that look again, the one that used to be familiar, the one that always dared you to go along with whatever half baked idea he had.

“no,” you scoffed, voice thick, still bitter from his words earlier. you didn’t even hesitate, but your chest tightened a little, because there was a time when that question wouldn’t have needed to be asked.

he tilted his head, the silent gesture pressing the question again, almost like a challenge. you sighed, exhaling the fight from your lungs. “fine,” you muttered, lying back from the edge of the bed. you didn’t know why you were giving in. maybe a part of you still believed that under all the rough edges, he was still the patrick you used to know.

his eyes scanned over your room for a second before grabbing something. “put this on,” he said, handing it to you.

you looked down at it, blinking in confusion. a pink sleeping mask, silky and soft to the touch. ridiculous, absurd. you stared at it, then at him, trying to make sense of the moment. “what... are you doing?” you asked, more to yourself than him.

he didn’t answer, just nodded toward the mask. you could tell he was waiting, watching, like the whole thing was some inside joke you weren’t in on yet. for reasons you couldn’t explain, you did as he said, slipping the mask over your head. maybe you were tired. maybe you just didn’t want to argue anymore. or maybe, somewhere deep down, you did still trust him, even if you hated admitting it.

you blinked, confused, the world blurring slightly behind the mask. there was no sound, no movement from patrick, just this heavy stillness. the quiet stretched on, unsettling, until suddenly, you felt his hands lifting up your skirt—firm, steady, grasping your thighs. he pulled them forward, guiding your legs around his shoulders.

“patrick?” your voice came out small, the confusion clear, but you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read whatever expression he wore. just as his name left your lips, you felt him move, closing the space between you. and then, unexpectedly, a cold, slimy glob landed with a wet splat on your cunt. his lips met your soft, surprisingly already soaked pussy. soft, warmer than you imagined, pressing gently but with a certainty that made your heart lurch.

it was so sudden, so out of place in the middle of this strange, awkward moment that your mind couldn’t catch up to your body. for a second, you froze, not sure what to do or think. this was patrick. the same boy who had spent the past year mocking you, pulling at your hair, calling you names. but now, here he was, lapping up your juices, his breath mingling with the heat radiating from your core, like none of that had happened. like this was the only thing that mattered.

his velvety tongue swirled around your pink, swollen nub. your body jolted as his teeth nipped at it. your mouth hung open as you gripped onto the sheets, trying to ground yourself. the slurping sounds he made sent shivers up your spine, “fuck.” you gasped, almost uncontrollably. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against your clit. almost like he was in love with it. in love with you. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he added, his warm breath adding to your pleasure. he asked if you forgive him and all you could do was nod, whimpering a small, “yes.” your eyebrows knitting together in satisfaction. his tongue flicked over your clit vigorously, making you come within seconds.

your hole clenched rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. your fingers tangled in a few of his curls. “when did you learn how to do that?” you panted, eyes still covered. he shrugged as if you could see him before pulling the mask from over your eyes. your cheeks instantly flushing when reality hit you. your ex best friend, bully or whatever just sucked an orgasm out of you. for fun. to please you. to make you forgive him. because he still cares, clearly.

he pressed his lips that were smothered in your liquids against your own. the taste of yourself soaking into your tongue. “you were my first experiment,” he murmured, his voice low. before you could process the weight of his words, he leaned in again, pressing another soft, almost calculated peck against your trembling lips.

[binniesbooks]

Ok ok soo lets start with Yeonjun SINCE i think you said unti palang sya sa acc mo SOOOOOOO.. thinking abt teaserdom!yeonjun x sub!reader

Scenario isss, reader is fucking horny, its 3am and shes still awake (she has insomnia like me) she suddenly had a wave of horniness and how did she deal with that??? She masturbates, trying so hard not to make a sound since yeonjun is sleeping so pretty beside her (he's awake and aware LMAO) anddd like its not enough for her so she slowly takes yeonjun's hand and uses it to pleasure herself 👹 ( and we all know what happend after that👀 to be more detailed, yeonjun is a tease and edges reader ahhweibaiw ) the rest is yours to write fayee💓

It may not be the best BUT i thought abt this last night and i just had to request it to someone AFGRHRBRBRBRB

ALSOOO THIS IS WHAT IM IMAGING WHAT YEONJUN LOOKS LIKE IN THIS REQUEST WJSJSJSJSJSJ just change the pants into shorts hehe

• A HELPING HAND

YJ 999 .F25 2024

wc 2.2k

pairings performerbf!Yeonjun x insomniac!reader

warnings teaserdom!Yeonjun, sub!reader, self-relieving, mentions of medication for insomnia, pornographic video clips(?), light somno if you squint, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note took me so long, mock board wracked my brain. So thankful classes got suspended so I took the chance to write lol. HAHAHAHAHA

special thanks to dear @aduh0308 i love you, hun.

"Goodnight, love, 'm sorry, too sleepy," Yeonjun muttered, lips pouty and voice sleepy.

"Goodnight, Jjunie, sleep tight," you answered, slowly combing your fingers through his hair.

With a low hum, you felt his hot breath against your neck. His little snores hinted that he drifted to sleep already, too tired from practicing all day.

Your eyes were so full of him today too, as you watched him repeatedly practice his dance performance, "Guilty". Yeonjun's figure was so sexy. His toned abs were revealed multiple times as he slid his hand under his shirt to hold his chin and cover his mouth.

Yeonjun is so particular in what he does, he wants everything to be perfect. So he always tries his best to get into the emotion of whatever he is doing. That’s the reason why he looks so extra sexy in the video he filmed for his performance, his white shirt riding off his abs.

Yeonjun nuzzled his face closer to your neck, unconsciously trying to find some warmth from you in your air-conditioned room.

It'd already been 4 hours since he fell asleep, however, you, on the other hand, weren't sleepy even for a bit. These past few days, you haven't had enough sleep, as your insomnia kicks every night. So when Yeonjun tossed and turned around lying flat on his back, you think of an idea to make yourself feel sleepy since your medication hasn't been helping. These past few days, you've been resorting to touching yourself to feel tired and fall asleep. But you thought, maybe tonight you should let it pass since your boyfriend was fast asleep next to you.

As you were scrolling on Yeonjun's phone, trying to find something to watch or read, you suddenly thought of opening his gallery.

You were met with an unfamiliar album entitled "for my pretty girl". The album quickly piques your interest as you open it. Your mouth hung open when you saw it was a compilation of videos where Yeonjun was clearly touching himself.

Your plan to abstain from self-relief for tonight? Revoked.

You opened one of the videos as you listened to his voice in the background.

"Mmhh... ngh... Love... Please, more..." Yeonjun's voice was so whiny, the camera kept on shaking as his abs kept on clenching. His huffs and pants got louder as the tip of his cock leaked. His shaky breath could be heard as he stopped stroking his cock, the full view made you notice how it harshly twitched, eager for touch.

"Fuck, love, I can't wait to feel you around me, I missed you," he huffs.

You opened a few more videos of Yeonjun desperately touching himself and whispering behind the camera how he badly wanted to feel you squeeze him.

Until you found yourself with your hand slowly circling your clothed clit. "Jjun...." you whispered, biting your lip to prevent any loud noise that would come out of your mouth. You placed the phone beside your head as you listened to his voice in the video whimpering and whining.

You slipped off your pajamas, quickly tossing them on the floor as you pressed your head further against your pillow, trying to suppress your moans. Your slender fingers played with your arousal, and your other hand crept under your shirt, pinching your nipples. Your breathing was ragged and shaky as you tried to suppress it once again.

Feeling a little bit needy, you carefully slid your digits inside you, curling and pumping them inside, trying to reach the right spots. Your body shook from pleasure, your lips swollen from how hard you were biting them. The squelching sound made it so filthy as you pushed your fingers in and out. "Yeonjun..." You whispered his name once again, your voice coming out as a croak. You tried your best to stay quiet because you didn't want him to wake up from you trying to relieve yourself.

Suddenly, your slender fingers felt shorter than usual. Still unsatisfied, you grabbed his hand, intertwining his fingers with you first before settling it down on your pussy. You decided to use his pretty fingers to get off. You gasped loudly when you slid his finger inside you. You didn't pay much attention to it, losing the chance to notice that his fingers were a bit stiff as if he were controlling them. Holding his hand, you guide his fingers in and out of you, desperate to cum.

With a few more pumps, a little bit more of biting your lips, and a heart-pounding experience to suppress your moans, you were just about the edge. "A b-bit more," you muttered, bucking your hips up. "'m so close, 'm gonna cum," you huffed, eyes closed, head pressed on the pillow.

Then his hand stopped. No, you didn't get to cum yet. His hand came to a pause from moving, hell, it was even pulled away from you. You whined from the empty feeling until you heard a rustling sound from beside you.

"You're using my hand to get off? How dirty are you, pretty girl?" Yeonjun chuckled, turning to his side and using his elbow to support his body to face you, giving his fingers kitten licks.

Your eyes widened as you pulled the blanket over your body, stuttering your excuses, "N-no! I can explain love, p-please this is.. it's not w-what it looks like!"

"Hmm, fuck, you taste so sweet, love," Yeonjun moaned, still sucking on his slick-covered fingers.

"Yeonjun," you gulped.

Yeonjun laid on his back again, pushing his white shirt up, exposing his toned abs as he ran his hand under it. "Mhh..." he moaned teasingly, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Stop that," you pouted, quietly sliding your hand under the sheets, trying to relieve yourself again. You slipped your finger inside you again, though your silent gasp didn't go past Yeonjun without him noticing it.

"My desperate girlfriend," he cooed as he hovered above you, pulling the sheets away, catching you red-handed. He pulled your hand and sucked on your fingers as his moans vibrated through your skin.

You were too embarrassed to look at him, so you tried covering your eyes.

"What makes you so shy now that you weren't earlier?" he whispered, lowering his head on your tummy. The hem of your shirt was caught between his teeth as he pulled it up. He looked over you with his hooded eyes as he dipped his head down once again, planting a kiss on your upper abdomen.

You couldn't help but tangle your fingers on his hair as you watched him. Yeonjun pressed his tongue flat on your burning skin, licking a long stripe from your navel and up.

His kisses moved down to your waist, giving it a few splotchy red marks. Without tearing his gaze on you, his tongue grazed your clit, making you dig your heels on the bed and arch your back, too desperate to feel him.

Yeonjun held both sides of your waist, his thumb gently massaging your flushed skin, as he continuously teasingly grazed your clit with his tongue.

Just when you thought you could relax for a bit, he suddenly licked a long stripe on your folds, making your body shiver and your grip tighten against his soft locks. You lifted your hips up, trying to meet his lips and tongue again, but he just pushed you down, making you whine.

"No no no no, pretty. Have sum' patience," he cooed, landing a slap on your thigh and making you yelp.

Dipping his head down once again, his sharp tongue prodded at your hole. His hum resonated around the four corners of the room as he felt you tug his hair a little bit harder.

"Fuck, Yeonjun, please..." you whined, trying to lift your hips again.

He hoisted your legs on his shoulder, tucking his hand under your thighs as he started to lap on your wet folds.

"S-stop... Ahh!"

Your squirming and trembling figure made him pull you closer to his mouth as he ate you out. Your heels digging onto his back as you feel yourself getting wetter, your fingers clutching the sheets underneath you. The obscene sounds he made makingthe knot in your stomach tighten.

"Close... So close..." you whimpered, trying to grind on his mouth.

But to your disappointment, Yeonjun pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glistening with your arousal. "W-what the hell!" you exclaimed, eyes teary.

"You wanna cum that badly, sweetie?" Yeonjun smirked.

"Please, please, please," you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your pussy clenches around nothing.

Yeonjun swiftly removes his thin shirt, grabbing both of your hands and tying his shirt around your wrists. "Only if you become a good girl for me," he said, tightening the makeshift rope.

"I'll be good, love, please. P-please let me cum, l-let me cum," you whined.

"Really?" he taunts. "Even if I do this?" Yeonjun slid his two fingers inside you and immediately withdrew it.

Your thighs were shaking as you yelp, "Wanna cum, wanna cum, please!" you cried loudly.

Yeonjun could only chuckle at you as he watched you rub your thighs together.

"Aren't you too horny, pretty girl? My videos made you this horny? Hm?" His fingers crept up your body, twisting your nipples in the process.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Ahh! More... Hng!" You didn’t even know the words or noises coming out of your mouth, you just desperately wanted to cum right now.

"Look at you, you're such a mess. Still unsatisfied even after using my videos and fingers to get off," he snickered.

"You should be a little patient, darling. Just like this guy in here," he added, palming himself through his black shorts.

"D'you wanna get my dick wet?" he asked, kissing your temple. You nodded frantically, unsure of what you were agreeing to, but you just need him.

Yeonjun rose to his knees between your body, pulling his shorts down a little to expose his hardened cock, kissing his lower abdomen. You bit your lip as you watched him repeatedly pump his cock.

"Mhhmp, this feels nice, fuck," he smirked, closing his eyes as he looks up. His adams apple bobbed u p and down as his mouth opened and closed simultaneously from the pleasure.

"Want to feel you, Jjun," you pouted, rubbing your thighs together again.

"You wanna feel me? Wanna be my cocksleeve, baby?" he smirked. You nodded at him again, biting your lips as you imagined him fucking your brains out like he usually did.

"Patience, pretty," he giggled, pressing the tip of his cock on your swollen lips.

Just when you were about to open your mouth and suck him, he pulled away. "Nah-uh, you're a bad girl, so eager for a mere cock. What are you, a slut?" he frowned, making you feel embarrassed. You covered your face using your tied hands.

"Covering your face? Wanna miss the fun part?"

When you peeked between your fingers, you saw him stroking his cock as his pre-cum shines on the tip of his cock.

"Whenever I'm not with you, I touch myself. I made a compilation just for you to watch how I badly wanna fuck you. Fuck-- " His brows creased, feeling the hair on the back of his head stand up.

"Not wanting anything other than to fuck you when I'm stressed," he muttered, his grip on his cock tightening as you heard him grunt.

"J-junnie, please, wanna cum with you," you whimpered, not being able to watch him any further.

"Sure!" he smirked as he aligned himself against your throbbing core.

You felt the good stretch as you gasped and a guttural moan ripped through him.

Yeonjun started moving inside, strings of curses coming out of his mouth as he felt you clench. He made sure to thrust deep to reach the parts where you and his fingers couldn't. Yeonjun practically pressing his hips on yours just to make you feel full sent you reeling.

You looped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, your fingers tangled on his locks once again as you felt him raw inside you.

"B-bit more... I'm gonna cum--"

Yeonjun still inside you, edging himself at the same as his body trembled from the sudden halt . "Fuck," he whispered.

"No no no no please, please no baby, I'm so close, I'm so close please," you cried out loud.

"H-hah, you're so desperate, pretty girl," he huffed, pressing his hips against you once again.

He then lifted his hips up for a bit. "Fuck yourself on me, show me how desperate you are, " he taunted.

No need for him to say it twice. You started moving your hips, fucking yourself on his cock, and burying him inside you as deep as possible. Until he decided to meet your hips halfway, making you feel him on your throat. The shallow thrusts make you whimper, and your body trembles.

"Gonna fill you up, need to fill you," he muttered through gritted teeth, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"Please, please, please!"

With a few more thrusts, your body convulsed, and strings of moans coming from you caused Yeonjun to bust.

"Fucking shit!" he hissed as he let his head fall against your chest. He slowly moved for a little while, letting the two of you ride out your high, draining himself inside you.

His body felt burning hot against your skin as your hearts thumped hard together. Your pants and huffs filled the room, which made it feel steamy even when the air- conditioning is on.

[wandascrush]

Runaway Bride

Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst

Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen

You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 

   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 

   “Long time no see, Natty.” 

    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 

   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”

 “I’m so tired of missing you…and funny enough, I thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”

I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.

    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.

   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 

   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.

[makethemhoesmad]

dreams

paige x azzi again

i was reading abt dreams so here we r

whipped this up in 20 minutes

—

azzi jolts awake, sitting up suddenly after hearing her name whispered, breaking the silence of her bedroom in the very early hours of morning. she looks around, only seeing a sleeping blonde tucked tightly against her.

“azzi…” she hears again, not identifying the source.

“paige?” she asks, moving a hand up to pull paige’s hair from in front of her still sleeping face. she doesn’t answer, just tries to burrow even closer.

“paige?” she asks again, preparing to drop the issue if there’s no response again.

“azzi, come back,” the older girl pleads, still asleep. 

“paige? honey, i never left,” azzi rushes to comfort the girl, who still seems to be asleep. she lays down so she’s face to face with her, pressing a light kiss against her nose.

“azzi,” paige starts. azzi holds her breath, listening to what the other girl has to say. “azzi, don’t leave, please. hold me.” 

despite knowing now it’s most likely a dream, tears brim in azzis eyes as she nuzzles her face into the girls neck, wrapping her arms tight around her.

“never gonna let you go, baby,” she whispers, her words muffled from her position in the crook of paige’s neck. this almost seems to placate her, and she doesn’t talk again, instead snoring lightly as azzi clings to her.

~

“well, good morning, clingy,” paige declares, waking up nearly completely underneath azzi, who’s lethargically blinking sleep out of her eyes.

“paigey, what did you dream about last night?” azzi inquires, rolling over to look right at paige, twirling a piece of paige’s blonde hair between her fingertips.

paige scrunches up her face.

“i can’t remember. why, was i talking again?” azzi nods, pressing a kiss to her lips, grinning softly down at her when she feels paige’s heartbeat pick up ever so slightly.

“yeah, just a bit. tellin’ me to hold you, so you’re clingier than me even in your sleep,” azzi states, then squeals as paige flips them, so azzi’s laying against the matress, with paige laying directly on top of her.

“damn right, princess.”

[writeriguess]

katsuki x female reader where she is usually so closed off behind sassy act but becomes vulnerable for the first time around him when she has drunken her worries away

You were always a force to be reckoned with, strutting through the halls with a confidence that rivaled the best of them. Your quick wit and sharp tongue kept most people at arm's length, a strategy you perfected over the years. It was easier to hide behind the sass than to let anyone see what was really underneath.

Especially around him.

Katsuki Bakugo was a different breed of intensity, someone who met your fire with fire. The few times you exchanged words, it was a clash of egos, both too proud to back down. But despite the frequent verbal sparring, there was something about him that lingered in the back of your mind, an unspoken connection that neither of you had ever acknowledged.

And tonight, it all came crashing down.

The dim lights of the bar flickered above you as you nursed the last remnants of your drink, the alcohol warming your insides and dulling the sharp edges of your mind. You weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight... tonight you had too much on your mind. The pressure of hero work, the expectations, the facade you’d kept up for so long—it all became too heavy.

You let out a sigh, staring into the glass as though the answers to your problems were swirling at the bottom. The buzz in your head softened your usual defenses, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to be so guarded.

That’s when you felt it—his presence. Even in your haze, you could sense Bakugo's intense aura as he approached, his eyes locking onto you from across the bar. His usual scowl was in place, though there was something different in his expression, something almost concerned.

"Tch, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was gruff as he slid into the seat next to you.

You looked up at him, eyes slightly unfocused. "Bakugo..." you slurred his name, barely recognizing the softness in your own voice. "Just... drinking. Relaxing. Like a normal person."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You? Relaxing? Yeah, right. What's really going on?"

You scoffed, though the sound was half-hearted. "Nothing you need to worry about, okay? I'm fine."

But the second the words left your mouth, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening your grip, or maybe it was the way Bakugo's intense gaze seemed to see right through you. Either way, the façade was slipping, and for the first time, you didn't have the strength to hold it up.

"I'm not fine," you whispered, voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. He was waiting.

You swallowed hard, trying to pull yourself together, but it was too late. The vulnerability that you'd spent so long hiding was bubbling to the surface, and there was no stopping it.

"I’ve been pretending... for so long," you continued, your voice thick with emotion. "Pretending like everything's fine, like I have it all under control, but... I don’t. It’s exhausting, Katsuki." You rarely used his first name, but it slipped out naturally, your usual barriers completely gone. "I’m so tired."

For a moment, Bakugo was silent, his gaze unwavering as he processed your words. Then, without warning, he stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from the barstool.

"Come on," he muttered, his voice softer than usual.

"Where are we—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Outside. You need air."

You let him lead you out of the crowded bar, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you stepped onto the empty street. Bakugo didn’t let go of your wrist until you both reached a quiet spot away from the noise. He turned to face you, his expression serious.

"You're an idiot if you think you're the only one who feels that way," he said bluntly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "Everyone’s struggling. Being a hero isn't easy, and you’re not some invincible machine. You're allowed to be tired."

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. It wasn’t like him to be so... understanding.

"I just... I don’t know how to let anyone in," you admitted, your voice small. "If I do, I’ll fall apart."

"Then fall apart," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You think being strong means never breaking? That’s bullshit. Real strength is getting back up after you fall."

Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could stop yourself, tears welled up in your eyes. You hated crying, especially in front of people, but right now, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

"I'm scared, Katsuki," you whispered, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared of failing, of not being enough."

Bakugo’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he stepped closer. "You're enough," he said firmly, his voice low. "You’re more than enough. And if you fall, I’ll be there to pick you up. Got it?"

His words broke something inside you, and before you knew it, you were burying your face in his chest, the sobs you had been holding in for so long finally escaping. Bakugo didn’t push you away or make some snide comment. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried.

For the first time in forever, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. And for the first time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone.

"I got you," Bakugo muttered into your hair, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’ve always got you."

And in that moment, you believed him.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[himegureisu]

my idiot

Summary: Aaron can be an idiot sometimes but he's your idiot.

“Why am I not surprised?”

They called you when the unsubs’ location was successfully identified. By the time the team made the arrest, you arrived in Ohio and were on the way to the local sheriff.

His ear drum ruptured at the last case in New York and bothered him at the slightest loud sound so when the doctor cleared him for field duty, you knew what happened. His charm offensive worked. Though you couldn’t blame the doctor, he can be very convincing.

With open arms, the BAU welcomed you at the entrance where their convoys were on standby. Their Unit Chief, your very handsome yet very stubborn boyfriend, gaped.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, as the team stepped aside to give you privacy, and he faced you, “but you’re my idiot,”

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled, as you crossed your arms unimpressed at his antics. “You know I’m not one to sit still,”

“Just don’t do it again, okay?” you whispered, stroking the curve of his bare ear, and he answered, “I make no promises,”

“You’re insufferable,” you huffed. His arms wrapped around you and you give in the embrace. “And yet, you love me,”

“I do love you very much,”

His cheeks instantly tinged in pink at your admission. Tiptoed, you kissed his cheek, and his rigid stance eased. The team came back with smiles on their faces despite the small cuts and hidden bruises. Their case was solved, a victory for the people.

“I’ll go get my bag,” he briefly walked away, and the BAU glanced at his form, as you explained. “He shouldn’t be flying,”

“It’s over seven hours back to Quantico,” Emily exclaimed, as Aaron shrugged about to say that he had done it before but you said, “You’re not driving,”

“We’ll switch,” he compromised, and you stared at him for a moment, knowing how he was, before conceding. “Fine,”

“You’ll see a lot of pretty country along the byways,” Rossi implied, “You might consider stretching it out a day or two.”

“We will,” he agreed, quite easily, must mean that his ear was truly annoying him, and you smiled at the old man, “Thanks, Rossi,”

His team bid their goodbyes as Aaron tossed the rental car keys to you. Your reflexes quick, caught the keys mid-air, as he stepped into the passenger seat.

“Where are we headed?” you asked, as he strapped in. “To the nearest accommodations,”

“I’m hungry, tired and I missed you,” he confessed, a faint smile on his usually stoic facade, as you started the car, “I intend to make these days count,”

“Okay, directions, please?”

[pitchsidestories]

cause you know I love the players and you love the game II Alexia Putellas x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1181

a/n: thank you anon for sending us this prompt, we hope you readers enjoy the short oneshot. ❤️

warnings: 18 + smut

It was in the middle of an important game for Barcelona, the last minutes of the second half were on and there was still no goal in sight until this moment.

Emotions ran high between fans and players alike when you’re fouled by an opposing defender in the penalty area.

For a moment the pain was overwhelming, you could feel your girlfriends worried gaze on you as you slowly got to your feet again.

Meanwhile the referee has pointed to the penalty kick, Alexia was readying herself to fulfil her captain duties, but you held her back with your less hurting arm. There was a fire in your stomach which gave you the belief that you’d be able to score.

“Amor, let me do the penalty kick.”,

“What? You?”, she raised her eyebrows surprised.

“Yes, come on move over, Ale.”, you told her unimpressed.

“No.”, Alexia shook her head determined.

“Alexia.”, you replied impatiently.

“You know what you’re doing?”, your girlfriend sighed.

“Of course I do.”, certainty shimmering through your words.

“Make sure you hit it with enough power. To the left, it’s the goalies weak side.”, the blonde advised you.

She knew you were unstoppable when you were in the mood you were in. Her trust was rewarded with you converting the penalty kick. Immediately your teammates gathered around for a group hug.

“Not bad.”, Alexia commented nonchalantly.

“Told you so.”, you grinned triumphantly at her as you started running next to each other, there was still a bit of time to play in the game.

During an injury break she whispered into your ear, her voice being raspy from the match sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“I still hate being told what to do. Except in the bedroom but that’s a different story.”

“Oh, you do, huh? I’ll keep that in mind tonight.”, you answered in a teasingly tone.

“Girls, we’ve children on the pitch please keep that in mind.”, Marta intervened chuckling.

“I’m 18 now that means I’m an adult, Marta.”, Vicky protested.  

“How did you even hear this?”, Alexia asked the older teammate.

“That’s my secret.”, she winked conspiratorial.

“Anyways. We still have some more minutes to play.”, the blonde reminded everyone.

“Yes, let’s keep focused and not think about tonight.”, you agreed smiling when you noticed your girlfriend shudder at the hinting of later. Tonight sounded like a promise to her.

“Yes, come on, girls.”, she nervously redid her ponytail.

“What did you say to our capi?”, Ona wanted to know curiously after the final whistle.

“Oh, nothing just what we’ll have for dinner.”, you shrugged laughing.

“Alright. I understand.”, the younger defender exchanged a knowing look between you.

Alexia raised her eyebrows and echoed: “Dinner?“

You shrugged with an innocent smile: “Yes, you looked very hungry.“

“I am in fact.“, she winked, playing along.

“Don’t worry, we’ll satisfy your hunger later.“, you laughed and got back into position.

You watched Alexia bite down on her lower lip: “Can’t wait.“

Stifling a laugh, you tried to focus back on the game without thinking too hard about the flirty sound of Alexias voice.

For the first time, you couldn’t wait for the referee to finally blow her whistle and end the game.

Ever since your girlfriend started teasing you mid-game, you felt this pulling sensation in your lower half. Maybe Alexia wasn’t the only one that needed to satisfy a craving.

You walked the perimeter of the football pitch, applauding and thanking the fans for their support when all you wanted to do was go home.

Alexia caught up with you, finally done with signing jerseys and taking selfies.

“Ready to go home?“, you asked.

She nodded, tired but happy: “Very ready.“

“Bye, girls.“, you waved to your teammates who slowly got ready to leave the stadium as well.

Ona gave you a meaningful smile and plainly said: “Enjoy.“

“Thanks.“, you grinned at her before turning to your girlfriend. She was already busy waving to the crowds again. “Come on, Ale.“

“Coming. Goodbye, Mapi.“

“Bye, girls.“, the defender waved with the arm she didn’t have around Ingrid.

You have never been more grateful that Alexia only lived a few minutes away from the stadium. When you finally reached her doorstep, you let out a sigh: “Home.“

“Finally.“, your girlfriend agreed as she unlocked the door and let you go inside first.

You smirked, dropping your bag on the floor and slipped out of your shoes: “Someone’s impatient.“

She didn’t deny it. Instead she flung the door closed and bridged the gap between the two of you, pushing you up against the wall.

“I think I waited long enough.“, she murmured into your ear. Her breath was hot against your skin, her hands trying to find their way under your shirt.

You bit back a moan and gently pushed her away: “Go to the bedroom. I’ll be coming soon.“

The suggestive nature of the last sentence wasn’t lost on you.

Alexia obediently followed your instruction. She was already in her underwear when you rejoined her in her bedroom.

And she hadn’t gained any more patience. She continued where you had left off.

Putting her lips on yours, she pushed you backwards onto her bed with such force that you bounced on the mattress.

You laughed as she kneeled over you, her lips exploring your body, leaving sweet kisses all over your naked skin. Her hands cupped your breasts, drawing small circles with her thumbs.

Every touch filled you with more anticipation. You arched your back, making sure she didn’t take too much time, making sure she knew that you couldn’t wait any longer.

Finally, she moved her hand between your thighs. First, slowly rubbing before she slipped her long fingers inside, curling them extremely effectively.

It didn’t take long until you sighed in blissful relief.

You had gotten what you craved. About time to satisfy Alexias hunger next.

Unlike her you knew you’d take your time with her. First you let your gaze wander at the midfielder’s sight in front of you after you helped her slipping out of the sports bra. She was looking back at you with almost a bit of a shyness biting her lips. A slight blush was creeping on her high cheekbones.

“Don’t let me wait for too long.”, Alexia whispered as you made your way from kissing her mouth to the vein on to her neck to her collarbone, while she shivered pleasantly under your touches.

“Where do you want me to touch you?”, you asked innocently.

The blonde replied with an eyeroll which could only be read as are you serious you know the answer to it.

Despite her impatience you continued your trail of kisses through her body until you reached her pants which you took off in one move, it was already a bit wet.

Softly you parted her legs before you used your mouth to lick first slowly than faster till you heard her moan from pleasure.

The different story had unfolded right here in the bed sheets and you both wouldn’t have it any other way.