#1.1k challenge

[lamentfulwarbler]

Feathers in a Cage

Written for @/februaryficletchallenge’s February Ficlet Challenge 2025

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: None

Characters: Mo Xuanyu

Additional Tags: Mentioned Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao, Mentioned Nie Mingjue, Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mo Xuanyu-centric, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, does this count as whump?, Hurt No Comfort

Summary: Concussed and in pain, Mo Xuanyu must piece together his scattered memories to understand how things ended up this way.

(February Ficlet Challenge: Day 2 - Trapped)

[khioneee]

TAPPING OUT

synopsis. caleb graduates from the academy, but when you unexpectedly tap him out, a tradition where loved ones step forward to formally release a pilot from their duty, he realizes no achievement compares to having you by his side. (based on this.) word count. 1.1k an. loved doing this for codghost so i might as well do it for this man. lets pretend they have the tradition in their universe. okay? okay.

caleb stood in the crowd, his posture rigid and form still with precision despite the celebration around him. cheers echoed through the room, but they sounded distant, muffled. he watched as pilots, one by one, were tapped out by their loved ones. parents embracing their children, lovers reuniting in tearful hugs.

his chest tightened as his eyes scanned the room. he was waiting for gran, the one person he knew would come. gran had always shown up, had always been his anchor. he learnt not to expect anything more, not to hope for anyone else.

but then, like a shift in the universe, caleb felt you before he saw you.

when you stepped into the room, it was as if the entire world faded away. time slowed, the noise dimmed, and the lights seemed to soften, catching on the edges of your features. you looked beautiful, achingly so. heartbreakingly out of reach. you weren’t supposed to be here, not after the fight, not after the cruel words you’d both thrown at each other before he left.

you moved toward him with purpose, cutting through the room like you were meant to be there all along.

caleb couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t think.

his hands trembled at his sides as he watched you close the distance between you. he could act all stoic, but his heart didn’t feel stoic enough to make him calm.

when you stopped in front of him, there were tears already brimming in your eyes. his carefully constructed control, unshakable during training, steadfast through every grueling challenge, began to crumble.

caleb had faced impossible physical challenges, the grueling expectations of training, and the endless psychological evaluations that pushed him to the edge. but none of those had broken him nearly like you did. you, standing here, looking at him like that.

you were his undoing.

you should be his first sign. the first sign that there was something wrong with him. because you were his obsession. the one he was slowly losing control over.

caleb was not allowed to fall in love with you.

he trembled as your fingers brushed against his, tapping him out of his frozen misery. the soft touch was meant to symbolize recognition, acknowledgment. but to caleb, it was so much more.

you were here. you were real.

there was no second-guessing, no hesitation. before he could stop himself, his arms were around you, pulling you into him with a force that left him breathless. a strangled sigh escaped his lips and found its home in the crook of your neck, right where your heart beats: friends, friends, friends.

he held you like a man drowning, and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. he felt the soft shake of your shoulders, the warmth of your tears against his neck, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

‘i didn’t think you’d come,’ he whispered, his voice low and raw, breaking under the weight of his emotions. you pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. there was something in his gaze, but before you could respond, he spoke again, quieter this time, like a vow. ‘i’ll never let you go.’

the words made you shiver. they were so soft you almost didn’t catch them.

‘you can try,’ you joked, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to lighten the mood. a nervous laugh escaped as you gently pushed against his chest, pretending to escape his embrace. ‘you love me, i get it.’

but caleb didn’t loosen his hold. instead, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. there was a quiet laugh, quiet and unsteady, before he murmured, ‘you have no idea, pipsqueak.’

his voice was filled with something raw, something deeper than you could fully understand. it wasn’t just love. it was obsession, devotion, a yearning that had no end.

you smelled like honey. like the same thing you’d been smelling your entire life that made you feel like home in a way that hotels and dorm beds could never manage.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, shining pin they’d given him for finishing aerospace academy. it gleamed in the light, a symbol of everything he’d fought to achieve. without a word, he placed it carefully in your palm.

your fingers brushed his as you took it, and the touch sent sparks up his arm. with careful, deliberate precision, you pinned it to his chest. caleb didn’t move, his gaze fixed on you, watching every motion, every soft touch of your fingers against his uniform.

‘they should give you a medal instead for doing so well,’ you teased softly, smiling up at him.

once the pin was secure, you smoothed down his uniform, your fingers lingering against the fabric. it was such a small gesture, but it felt so intimate that caleb’s breath hitched.

he tried his best not to be frantic, but it was almost impossible when he was overloaded with want, want, want, and with the feeling that this might not happen again, with the fear that if caleb thought about it too hard, he’d stop himself before he did too much.

he couldn’t stop himself any longer. leaning down, he kissed your cheek, his lips lingering on your skin. he didn’t move away immediately, letting the moment stretch as he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of you.

he felt like a criminal on the run, but it was too good to withdraw from. so, he overdosed on unrequited love.

when he finally pulled back, there was a soft, almost shy smile on his lips. his voice was low, but full of meaning. ‘i already have my reward.’

you looked up at him, your cheeks warm, his cap still sitting crooked on your head. for a moment, neither of you spoke, and the weight of everything unsaid lingered between you.

and caleb, looking at you, standing there with your fingers still on his uniform, knew it was the absolute truth. you didn’t realize it, but you were the center of his universe. his greatest test, his deepest weakness, and the one thing he could never, ever let go of.

i’m a fool, he decided. damned in the bits of exhaustion at pulling and pushing at whatever’s left of trying.

the noise of the crowd finally broke through the haze, the sound of laughter and celebration pulling you both back to the present. caleb stepped back slightly, watching as you adjusted his cap, your smile soft but hesitant.

you didn’t have to know the struggle he’d endured to get here, the battles he’d fought within himself.

you were his obsession. his reason for everything. and he was losing control, but he didn’t care. because having you here, now, was all that mattered.

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to host the biggest house party on figure eight, you and rafe cut celebrations short after a heated game of beer pong.

warnings: established relationship, alcohol consumption, irresponsible drinking, rafe takes a body shot off of reader, unprotected sex, rough sex (?), rafe puts you in a chokehold <3, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation

wc: 1.1k

everyone knew your parties were absolute ragers, with strangers filling out every corner of your house, and the cops always shutting the place down at the end of the night, to say your parties were the most anticipated on the island would be an understatement. even now as you and rafe challenged one another in a classic game of beer pong, you were sure there was people passed out drunk somewhere. “loser has to take a body shot.” rafe walked around the table, his hand sneaking under your skirt as he passed by. he loved threatening you with a good time.

you rolled your eyes, your best friends cheering you on as you and rafe went round after round until you both only had one more cup left. rafe had a look in his eye that was all too familiar. you knew he secretly wanted to lose, the terrible throw of his ping pong ball confirming your suspicions of him missing on purpose. “aww, are you letting me win?” your smile was the epitome of perfection, your boyfriend motioning for you to go as he grabbed a bottle of tequila from topper. sure enough, an excited squeal left your lips as the little ball landed straight into rafe’s red solo cup.

rafe pretended to be disappointed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when he downed the last of the burning liquor. truth is; rafe wanted to get his hands, and mouth, on you since the second he saw you walk down the stairs in that pretty little outfit of yours. if losing to you meant he could run his tongue up your soft flesh and cop a feel of what was under your sequined top, then that’s what he was going to do. rafe walked over, grabbing your hand as he guided you on top of the table. the crowd burst into a fit of cheers, your cheeks heating when rafe gave you a little wink.

you laid flat against the hard surface, your fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt. glancing down at your hands, rafe cursed under his breath when his favorite thong peeked through your bottoms. “you’re in trouble.” rafe slipped off his shirt, laying the article of clothing across your lap so no one else can steal a glimpse of what was his. everyone was hollering as all eyes fell on you and rafe, nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy. leaning down, rafe licked a stripe up the column of your throat, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

after what felt like an eternity, you sighed blissfully when he pulled away, wasting no time in placing a lime between your lips. “you gonna be a good sport and take this for me?” he unscrewed the bottle of tequila, your stomach flipping in excitement. “sí— yes.” as soon as that word left your mouth, rafe tipped the bottle over, the cold substance sending a shiver down your spine. topper and kelce stepped closer, the flashlights to their phones blinding your vision as rafe’s tongue flattened against your skin, the warm muscle moving all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“no bra?” he teased, licking all the way up to the underside of your jaw. taking the lime from your mouth with his own, everyone erupted in cheers when rafe stood up, topper jumping in the air as he saved the video to his camera roll. you would definitely need to see that later. rafe helped you up from the table, making sure your outfit was in place before throwing his t-shirt over his shoulder. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit weak in the knees after feeling rafe taste your skin. wrapping an arm around your waist, rafe whispered in your ear as he guided you two back inside.

“you wear those panties on purpose?” his breath was hot against your cheek, his arm pulling you close to his chest. “no.. my first option was to wear no panties at all.” rafe nodded, a dry laugh falling from his lips. “oh, that’s cute.” he knew you were serious too, and that’s what drove him crazy. before he could say anything else, you pulled away from him, losing yourself in the sea of people before he saw you making your way upstairs, your mini skirt shining underneath the neon lighting of your house. once your door clicked behind you, it wasn’t long before it busted open again.

all it took was rafe seeing your lacey pink thong to get you in the position you were in right now; getting fucked in a headlock while rafe grunted praises in your ear.

“wrapping around me so fuckin’ tight..”

“fuckkk, you’re taking me like the perfect little slut you are.”

“this is what you wanted right? ‘wanted this pretty pussy to get pounded in?”

all you could do was pathetically repeat his name, tears lining your eyes at just how good he felt. his bicep hugged your neck, your chin wobbling against the huge muscle as sounds of his skin meeting yours bounced off of the walls of your room. with his balls smacking against your clit, you nearly screamed when you felt the band in your stomach snap. “ray!” you gasped, your manicured nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “oh, my god!” you were jelly at this point, your limbs feeling like dead weight as rafe made no effort to slow down.

overstimulated and mumbling nonsense, you shook and trembled underneath rafe as he filled you to the brim with his seed, the second greatest feeling ever. the first being whenever he was inside you. rafe’s head rested on your back, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you were sure to see bruises in the morning. he was panting by the time he finished, his cock still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. collapsing down next to you, rafe gave you a lazy smile, both of you looking equally fucked-out.

“we should probably shut this down soon, it sounds like it’s getting pretty rowdy out there.” you sighed, snuggling into rafe’s side. “i just want to stay like this.” wrapping his arms around you, rafe inhaled the scent of your perfume. “how have you not gotten a citation yet? the cops have been out here at least six times already.” you groaned, feeling sleep pull at your eyelids. “please don’t jinx it.” as if on cue, there was a flash of red and blue lights, a siren sounding from outside. you and rafe froze. “what did i just say?!” you huffed, already dreading having to get dressed and talking to the police.

[steddiehyperfixation]

@steddiebingo prompts: college au + crush + bandana | 1.1k words | T |

“Steeeveennnn,” Robin complains, poking Steve's shoulder with her pencil. “This was not the deal.”

Steve blinks and startles as if shaken out of a trance and grudgingly drags his glance over to Robin. “What?”

“You're only supposed to zone out when I'm paying attention and I can only zone out when you're paying attention.” That's their standard deal for any class they share that they're both only taking to knock out some credits and isn't relevant to either of their majors.

“Okay,” he says, “so pay attention.”

“I have been, dingus,” she argues. While this semester's History of Rock course is actually kind of interesting, Robin would still appreciate being able to use some of the precious daydreaming time she’d been promised. “I've been giving you my notes for the last month, at least! It's my turn to zone out now, slacker.”

“Alright, alright. I'm paying attention.” Steve makes a big show of picking up his pencil and writing down what's on the lecture slides, even leaning forward a little to emphasize his focus. “You're free to zone out to your heart’s content.”

Robin doesn't trust him in the slightest.

She enjoys about five whole minutes of spacing out before one Eddie Munson inevitably interrupts the professor to challenge some point and any hope of Steve's ability to continue taking notes for her is lost completely. His attention is stolen the second that ringed hand goes up, focus returning undividedly to the loud, scraggly man who is now standing up in his vehemence to counter the teacher. Steve instantly becomes enraptured by this argument, though Robin doubts he’s really comprehending a single word of it. He even gets this dopey little smile on his face as he watches.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans, rolling her eyes and dropping her chin into her palm in resignation to her fate. Steve is utterly useless when he has a crush. It would be pointless, Sisyphean even, for her to keep trying to snap him out of it; no matter how many times she diverts his attention, it always rolls right back to Eddie.

Robin doesn't know what Steve sees in him. Personally, she finds Eddie kind of obnoxious and thinks he looks a bit like a stray dog that's been left outside in a thunderstorm. But for some reason he has her best friend totally captivated. Even when Eddie sits back down, conceding the tangential debate and letting the professor continue, Steve's gaze still lingers as it always does for the remainder of class, his eyes all dreamy and far away and the very epitome of yearning.

“This is getting pathetic,” Robin tells him when class is dismissed and she looks over to find him still staring. “Just go talk to him already. Make a move. I’m sick of watching you sit here and pine.”

“He might not even be queer, Rob.”

“He wears a black bandana in his back pocket.”

“So? He's all metal and shit, it could just be, like, a style thing. Doesn't mean it's hanky code.”

“Okay, so ask him.”

Steve looks at her like she's gone insane. “I can't just go up to him and ask him if he's flagging.”

“Fine, then I will.”

“What- No, Robin-!”

But Robin is already standing up and marching through the crowd of students leaving the classroom to catch up to Eddie. “Hey, are you flagging?”

Eddie stops short and turns sharply around to face her. “Excuse me?”

“That bandana you've always got in your pocket - is that just a fashion statement or are you flagging?” she repeats bluntly.

Eddie's eyes narrow, halfway between distrustful confusion and a sneer. “What's it to you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Robin says. “I couldn't care less. I'm asking for my friend, Steve.” She points a thumb over her shoulder, fairly certain Steve isn't too far behind her. “He's the one who's been staring at you like an idiot all semester, and he's just dying to know if-”

“Oh my god-” Steve interrupts, shoulder checking her as he comes up beside her, his face flushed and slightly out of breath like he fought his way here desperately. “I’m so sorry about her.” He gives Eddie an apologetic smile and cuts Robin a sideways glare. “She was dropped on the head a few too many times as a baby and it left her incapable of comprehending boundaries.”

Robin scoffs. “Oh, like watching creepily from afar is so much more respectful,” she retorts.

“I’m not a creep-” Steve rushes to protest, looking hastily back to Eddie. “I’m not a creep. She's making it sound like I'm some sort of stalker or something. I’m not, I swear.”

Eddie laughs, and Steve looks whipped. “It's alright, I don't mind.”

Eddie's wary hostility seems to have faded into something more amused and definitely not uninterested, if the way he's looking Steve over is any indication. Robin subtly nudges Steve with her arm. Time to turn on the charm, dingus, he likes you.

“You just catch my eye, is all,” Steve recovers, regaining his composure and quickly attempting to school his flustered, lovesick expression into a smoother, more intentional smile. “You stand out, you know - in a good way. I like your style, how outspoken you are. You seem really passionate about this music stuff; it's cool to watch.”

Eddie's interest only sharpens, slow grin growing. He considers him for another moment. “Your friend says you're curious about my bandana.”

“Yeah, uh-” A little bit of that flusteredness slips out again, just enough that it could possibly be intentional (or maybe not; Robin’s really not giving him that much credit). Steve chews at his lip, eyes flicking Eddie up and down. “That too.”

Eddie's about to say something in response, but he's cut off by someone shouting his name. There's some blond guy at the end of the hall gesturing impatiently at him.

“Shit, sorry, I gotta run, my band’s got practice right now. But, um.” Eddie searches his pockets and grabs a pen out of his leather jacket. “Here.” He takes Steve's arm, scribbling a phone number onto his skin. “Why don't you call me later and we can talk more, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. He looks mildly starstruck, smiling stupidly at the number on his arm like it's a celebrity autograph or something. “Yeah, for sure.”

Robin snickers. “Oh, he's never washing that arm again.”

“Shut up, Robin,” Steve hisses, his cheeks tingeing pink again. Eddie laughs and Steve manages a sheepish smile. “I-I’ll call you,” he confirms again as he turns to leave, grabbing Robin by the arm and dragging her with him before she can embarrass him any further.

“You better,” Eddie calls after him, and Steve looks over his shoulder just in time to catch his smirk and farewell salute before he too turns and bounds off in the opposite direction.

Robin digs her elbow into Steve’s ribs, grinning smugly at him. “You're fucking welcome,” she says.

[moonstruckme]

Who's That Girl AU

cw: modern au, sexual harassment mention

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It’s not unusual for Remus to hear Sirius’ voice before Sirius even enters the flat. Now, yours has only joined it. 

“I was only trying to be nice,” you say as the door opens. 

Sirius ushers you through first, each of you carrying paper bags in both hands. “We can’t have every bloke in London showing up at our flat because you want to be nice.” 

“It’s not that I want to, I just feel like it’s normal!” 

James throws Remus a look, pausing the film they’ve only just begun in favor of live entertainment. “Bickering already?” he asks. “I know it’s bound to happen between flatmates, but Sirius, mate, she’s only been here two days.” 

“It’s not my fault.” Sirius discards your bags by the end of the couch, flopping down. “This home can only harbor one whore at a time. It’s flat policy!” 

“When did we make that policy?” James asks Remus. 

Remus shrugs. 

“Well, that’s sexist,” you say. 

“How?” Sirius challenges. 

“I…I’m not sure.” You set down your bags next to where Sirius did. “But it is, somehow. I’ll figure it out.”

Finally, Remus’ curiosity wins out over his determination not to encourage Sirius. With great reluctance, he asks, “What happened?”  

Sirius waves to you. “This one tried bringing two different men home. Two!” 

James looks to you with wide eyes, Remus to Sirius with narrowed ones. 

“That’s not fair,” you say, arms crossing as you sit at the end of the couch. “All I wanted was to get shampoo.” 

“Then please.” Sirius gestures with a flourish. “Demonstrate for us all how it played out.” 

You roll your eyes. “Seriously?” 

At this, Sirius cracks a smile. Remus groans. 

“That’s me, babe,” Sirius says smugly. 

Your brow furrows for a second before you realize what you’ve done. Your eyes roll again. “Whatever, fine. So, we were leaving Boots—” 

“No. Start from the tube.” 

Your mouth twists as though you’ve tasted something bad. “That one’s embarrassing.” 

“Then maybe you’ll learn from it.” 

“Oi.” Remus gives Sirius a firm nudge. He says to you, “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.” 

You really do look embarrassed, but you soften some at Remus’ tone. Take a breath. “No, it’s fine. So we were on the train—” 

“The tube,” Sirius cuts in. 

“Do you want to tell it?” you nearly snap. 

James snickers into his palm. Sirius holds up both hands in a gesture of surrender, nodding for you to continue. 

“We were on the tube, and I look up to see this guy staring at me. He smiled and said he liked my hair.” 

“And you smiled back at him,” Sirius supplies. “That’s important.” 

“Fine, sure.” You pull your legs in, folding your arms over them. “I smiled back at him, and I said thank you, right? Because he gave me a compliment.” 

James hisses through his teeth. “Nothing,” he says when you look at him. “Keep going.” 

You’re beginning to look wary. “Anyway, then the guy started talking to me, asking where I was from and how I liked London and stuff, and somehow it escalated into him telling me…basically saying what he’d like to do to me.” Your mouth gets that distasteful twist again. “It was pretty vulgar.” 

“Aw, babe.” James’ expression is pained. “I’m sorry.” 

“Wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t encourage him,” Sirius tsks. 

Remus thwacks him on the arm. “Let her talk.” 

“Yeah,” James chimes in, “and where were you during all this? A gentleman would have stepped in.” 

“I did step in!” Sirius defends himself. “I got us the hell off the tube before that wanker could start publicly assaulting her.” 

“I do appreciate that,” you say weakly. 

“Thank you. If it weren’t for me, she—oi!” James crawls over Remus to begin wrestling Sirius, both of them laughing while trying to appear angry. 

You press your lips together, clearly trying to suppress a smile. Remus wants to warn you not to encourage them, but by the glitter of mirth in your eyes it might be a wasted effort. 

“Alright,” James says once he has Sirius trapped with James’ hand covering his mouth, “go on, lovely. You said there were two incidents. You can tell the second one without interruptions.” 

“Thanks,” you say, grinning. “So the second thing was that as we were leaving Boots, after getting all my stuff, this guy held the door open for us. I said thank you and we left, but then when we were about to get back on the tube the same guy came up to us. He asked for my number and seemed confused when I said no, because I guess he thought we had a connection or something?” 

Sirius is struggling against James, who’s fighting to keep a straight face as he keeps the other boy pinned down. Remus feels earnestly bad for you. It’s clear you’re confused about where these interactions went wrong. 

“Did you smile at him, also?” Remus asks. 

You think for a moment. “I guess I probably did.” 

“Oh.” James sounds pitying. “Why would you—eugh!” He lets go of Sirius quickly. “Did you just lick my hand?” 

Sirius shoves him off, fixing his hair. “Don’t fucking muzzle me, you brute.” 

“Nasty prat.” James wipes his palm on his shirtfront.

“Love, why do you keep smiling at people?” Remus asks.

“Exactly!” Sirius throws up his hands. “That is the question of the day.” 

“I don’t know.” You frown, defensive. “Because I’m pleasant?” 

“Awe.” James slings an arm around your shoulders, using the other to pat your cheek. You look as though you’d rather not be touched with the hand recently infected by Sirius’ spit, but you’re too nice to say so. “You’re just an innocent little country mouse, aren’t you? You can’t smile at people here like that, babe.” 

Your frown softens confusedly. “Why not?” 

“Because when you do, people think you’re trying to be extra friendly with them. Like you’re singling them out or something.” 

“Seriously?” 

Remus pins Sirius with a glare just as he opens his mouth. 

“So, no smiling at anyone?” you go on.

“No chatting either,” Sirius tells you sternly. 

“There are exceptions,” says Remus, “but generally people tend to prefer going about their own business. Starting conversations with strangers on the tube or at Boots isn’t really…done.” 

You look perturbed by this news. James laughs, giving your cheek another fond pat. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” he assures you. “You’ll figure it out in time. For now, just don’t give anyone the flat number, okay? Don’t need any unexpected visitors.” 

“That’s right.” Sirius nods firmly. “There’s already one whore in this flat. Those are the rules.” 

“Not a whore,” you remind him. 

“Where are these rules?” James wants to know. “I need to make sure there are no others I need to know about.”

[dearlenore]

hiiiii

Tim Bradford x reader where she's pregnant. and nesting. Tim would be all over that I feel.

This has gotta be my favorite thing ever I’m obsesseddd🥹💋 this one might be the fluffiest I’ve written too❤️

HELLO BABY • T.BRADFORD

SUMMARY: Tim comes home to an unexpectedly motivated reader, cleaning, building and painting the nursery for their little girl

PAIRING: SAHM!reader x Tim Bradford

tags: PURE FLUFF, reader wears ‘feminine’ clothes, mentions of pregnancy , nesting mentions, Tim is very confused

a/n: first time writing Tim so be nice to me please…

w/c: 1.1K

Tim Bradford was exhausted. Thirteen hours on shift, three foot pursuits, and one particularly annoying rookie later, all he wanted was to come home, take a shower, and collapse into bed with you. He’d been looking forward to it all day—the feeling of your body curled against his, the scent of your shampoo, the sound of your voice reminding him he was more than just a cop with a badge.

But the second he stepped into the house, he knew something was off.

The scent of fresh paint hit him first, sharp and unmistakable. Then came the sound—faint music Sabrina Carpenter from your phone, the occasional shuffle of movement, and the distinct thunk of something being assembled. Tim frowned, toeing off his boots as he followed the noise down the hall.

And there you were.

Eight months pregnant in overalls, standing on your tiptoes, rolling paint onto the nursery wall. A half-assembled crib lay in pieces beside you along with your nightgown, instructions crumpled but ignored. A screwdriver sat on top of a pile of screws that definitely should have been in the furniture instead of scattered across the floor.

Tim stared. Blinked. Rubbed a hand down his face before speaking.

“What. The hell. Are you doing?”

You startled at his voice, turning to look at him over your shoulder. A streak of light pink paint ran across your cheek, your hair was a mess, and yet you had the nerve to smile at him like you hadn’t just been caught red-handed.

“Preparations.”

Tim exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can see that. But you’re supposed to be resting, not turning the nursery into a DIY disaster zone.”

You huffed, placing the paint roller down. “I was waiting for you to get home, but you were working late, and I had all this energy, so I figured I might as well—”

“No.” Tim stepped forward, hands settling on your waist as he guided you away from the paint tray. “Babe, you’re carrying our kid, not a whole-ass toolbox. You should be lying down, not climbing on step stools and putting together cribs.”

“I wasn’t climbing,” you defended, avoiding his knowing stare.

Tim arched a brow. “You sure about that?”

You pursed your lips. “Okay, maybe a little.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You need to slow down or you’ll be the death of us both.”

You grinned. “But you love me.”

“I do,” he admitted, voice soft. “Which is exactly why you need to let me handle this stuff, okay?”

Your hands came up to rest on his chest, fingers tracing absent patterns over his vest. “I just wanted everything to be perfect before she gets here.”

Tim’s expression softened. He knew how much this meant to you. He’d seen the baby books on your nightstand, the way you planned every little detail down to the crib sheets and wall decals. But you didn’t have to do this alone—not when he was here.

“She’s already got the most perfect mom in the world,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours. “So how about you let me take over, and you sit down before I have to arrest you for reckless endangerment of my pregnant wife?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but relenting. “Fine. But I’m supervising.”

Tim chuckled. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As he helped you settle onto the nursery rocking chair, he grabbed the screwdriver and eyed the crib parts with determination. He might’ve spent the last thirteen hours chasing bad guys, but apparently, his real challenge was about to be assembling baby furniture with no instructions.

Tim had faced shootouts, car chases, and criminals twice his size without breaking a sweat. But as he sat cross-legged on the nursery floor, staring down at the disassembled crib like it was an active crime scene, he was starting to think this might be his toughest challenge yet.

You, comfortably perched in the nursery’s new rocking chair with a glass of water in hand, were thoroughly enjoying the show.

“You know,” you mused, watching as he flipped the instruction manual upside down, “I did start putting it together already.”

Tim shot you a look, then gestured to the mess of screws and wooden panels scattered around him. “Yeah, and I’m trying to undo whatever chaos you unleashed before I got home.”

You smirked, shifting to get more comfortable. “I was making progress.”

“You put two of the legs on backward.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Details.”

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair before glancing back at you. “You really should be in bed.”

“I was in bed. Then I got bored.” You sipped your water, giving him your most innocent look. “Besides, if I went to sleep, I would’ve missed this.”

“This?”

“The rare sight of Tim Bradford struggling.”

He pointed a screwdriver at you. “Careful. I could make you finish this yourself.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and despite the exhaustion still clinging to him from his shift, Tim felt the tension in his body ease. It didn’t matter how tired he was—being here with you, working on something for her, made everything else fade into the background.

A comfortable silence settled between you as he focused on assembling the crib. Every so often, you’d make an observation (“Are you sure that piece goes there?”), and he’d remind you, gently, that he knew what he was doing. (He didn’t.)

Eventually, after some cursing under his breath, an unnecessary amount of re-reading the instructions, and one incident where the crib almost collapsed on itself, he finally tightened the last screw and sat back with a victorious sigh.

“There,” he declared, brushing his hands off. “One fully operational crib, courtesy of your incredibly capable husband.”

You grinned. “I don’t know, I think she’ll have to test it herself before I give you full credit.”

Tim rolled his eyes, pushing himself up to his feet before walking over to where you sat. He rested a hand on your belly, feeling the soft movement of your breath beneath his palm.

“She’s gonna love it,” he murmured, voice softer now. “And she’s gonna love you even more.”

Your eyes glistened, and you covered his hand with yours. “We built a crib today, Tim.”

He smirked. “Correction. I built a crib today. You provided comedic relief at best.”

You swatted his arm, but your smile stayed. “First of all, my comedic relief is amazing and helpful. Second of all I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

Tim leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before dropping another one to your belly. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice full of something so deep and unshakable it made your heart squeeze. “Me neither.”

[marvelstoriesepic]

Somewhere Between Chapters

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: On a rare day off, you escape to the park with a book and no plans, followed and joined by Bucky.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff; mutual pining

Author’s Note: Ahh I loved some pure fluff for a change again. Thank you for sending me this lovely request!! I hope you enjoy ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

You'd forgotten the way it felt to pause.

To inhale.

To just be.

And so when your mission schedule coughed up an unexpected day off - when the universe, in its infinite chaos, cracked open and let you go outside - you listened. You laced your boots, grabbed a book you'd been pretending to read for weeks, and walked until the city felt like a dream someone else was having.

The park smells like grass and laughter, and there is a soft breeze tracing letters across your skin like some sort of code you don’t need to decipher.

You find a bench under a flowering tree that doesn’t know how to stop blooming, and you sit, and you breathe.

The sky is soft today.

A blue that’s been washed too many times in the sink, but still looks beautiful. It hangs wide over the park, spills over the grass, and you feel it warming the top of your head.

You don’t want noise. Or missions. Or anyone asking you how you’re feeling because they already know the answer is complicated. You just want this. A park. A book. A sky.

And apparently, a Bucky Barnes.

You don’t notice him until he’s standing right in front of you and you turn a page that suddenly means nothing.

Bucky moves like guilt and history and poetry someone tried to erase. You didn’t see him coming. Didn’t see him watching. But there’s a silence following him. Something you always pick up - the subtle way the world makes space when he walks through it. You look up and your breath catches on his name.

His hair is slightly windswept. The clean-cut line of his jaw is staring right at you. He’s wearing that navy jacket you like, the one with the collar he keeps turning up when he’s pretending not to care what you think. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands there as if it’s normal.

You don’t know what to do with your hands.

“Hey,” he then says, voice low and slightly raspy.

You tilt your head. “Did you follow me?”

“Nah,” he lies. “I was just walking.”

You look at him. At his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The slight slope of his shoulders. The shadows under his eyes he wears like war medals.

“You were following me,” you say, slightly amused but soft, as though the words might bruise if you breathe on them too hard.

He looks away, mouth twitching as if chewing on a confession. He shrugs. “Didn’t have anything else going on.”

Which is a lie. You know it. He’s always got something going on. Missions. Meetings. Therapy. Hunched broodingly over the kitchen counter. Steve breathing down his neck.

He chose to come here. He followed you. And maybe that shouldn’t make your heart flutter the way it does, but it does. It flutters like a page caught in wind.

“Can I sit?” he asks, pointing at the place right beside you.

You nod before your heartbeat remembers how to say no.

Bucky sits beside you. You hear him let out a breath.

You open your book again, but the words are blurring slightly. He’s warm beside you. A slow, solid warmth. Like safety, if safety had stubble and blue eyes that refused to meet yours.

You glance at him, but he’s looking at the book in your lap as if it holds answers. As if it holds you. “What’re you reading?”

You show him the cover. He nods as though it means something to him, but it doesn’t. You know it doesn’t.

“Read to me?” he asks quietly.

Your gaze falls to him.

He doesn’t look at you when he asks. Just stares straight ahead, as though the request might have been an accident. As though allowing you to simply ignore it.

But you don’t.

You nod. It’s all you can do. You start reading aloud, the words trembling slightly at first, but then softening with the wind.

Bucky listens with the kind of attention you might think he’d use only on a battlefield. When it’s about life and death. But he listens to you as if your words are a map, and he’s trying to find his way home through the sound of your voice.

At some point, you forget what the story is about.

Because you can feel his gaze on you. Not constant - just glancing. As if trying not to be obvious. As if memorizing your profile in stolen pieces. The curve of your cheek. The way your lips move when you say words like hope and light and tethered.

You pause to turn the page, and his fingers brush yours.

An accident, probably.

You keep reading anyway.

He leans back, one arm stretching across the back of the bench. As if it belongs near you. And every now and then, his fingers touch the sleeve of your shirt and your skin forgets how to be still.

He closes his eyes. Maybe wanting to remember the sound of your voice. Trying to memorize it, tuck it away, in case he doesn’t get to hear it again soon.

You steal a glance at him when you think he won’t notice.

But he notices. Of course, he does.

He opens his eyes, catches you looking, and instead of looking away, you both just hold your gazes there. Caught in the space between chapters. Between breaths. Between all the things you’ve never said out loud.

You want to tell him he didn’t need to come. That he could have stayed back at the tower. You want to tell him that this is your favorite kind of day and now it’s somehow better.

But all you say is, “You like it?”

He doesn’t look away from you when he answers. “Yeah.”

“A specific part?”

He swallows. “All of it.”

And maybe he means the book. Or the breeze. Or the way you sit beside him and read to him as if he’s not someone dangerous.

Maybe he just means you.

You don’t answer. Not with words. Just a smile. A real one. The kind that starts in your chest and climbs all the way to your eyes.

He shifts, a little closer, until your knees brush. Until the warmth of him sinks into your side and you feel less like one person and more like a sentence that finally found its ending.

And you keep reading.

Because it’s the only way to keep breathing.

Because if you stop, you might say all the things you’ve been carrying, and he might say them back.

And the world might turn around.

[littlelovelunette]

absolutely filthy gp!sevika request incoming >:)

i was just thinking about how she’d hold your legs open as she fucks you into the mattress because she wants to see exactly what she’s doing to you…

and when you can tell that she’s close you beg her to cum inside and she gives in and does cause she simply couldn’t help herself…

anyways do with that what you will!!! hehe

Absolutely filthy G!P Sevika coming up, it's long 1.1k words, haha enjoy, babies

The November Challenge

Contains smut, degradation, cnc, sevika has a dick, clit play, anal, anal virginity, squirting, spanking, praising, fingering.

You thought it would be funny to make Sevika commit to the No-Nut-November challenge. Given her attitude to a challenge, of course she didn't turn it down but she didn't wanna take it either.

Sevika's libido had always been high and you knew it, she needed to go to the brothel so often, due to it, before you both became an exclusive thing and got married. But, her sex drive now was even higher with you.

All throughout the month before the last, Sevika struggled to hold herself back from stroking her big veiny cock, morning woods were the hardest to deal with, and she had to restrain herself whenever you both showered together. You were proud of her, of course, but couldn't help laughing at the miserable grumbles and other ungodly noises she'd make when she was horny.

“I'm so glad this stupid challenge is finally over,” Sevika grumbled and shoved her face in your hair, taking a long sniff which gave both of you comfort.

What, she can't help it, you're just too pretty, aren't you? Today was 30th November and the night was coming to an end, you both finished having dinner and were cuddling in bed.

“Mhm? You've been struggling so much this month,” you cooed, running your fingers as you traced her abs under her shirt. She rolled her eyes at your slightly mocking tone.

Eyes flickering to the clock every now and then, Sevika's arm around you tightened a little as the minute hand ticked and ticked, getting closer indicating that the month was over. Anticipation filled your chest as you watched Sevika's intense gaze towards the clock and the moment the hour hand hits twelve, she flipped you onto your stomach.

Sevika growled in response, taking her own clothes off, giving you space so you could pull your shirt up, the red bra clad breasts made her cock ooze out an impressive amount of precum. “Mmmm,” she hummed, palming your breasts before she pulled the bra off, unclasping it with her mechanical fingers, your breasts falling into their natural place had her almost drooling.

Sevika's body on top again, finally, as she pressed kisses at the nape of your neck, biting in an animalistic manner. This was the beast she'd held in for so long, she pulled and tugged at your clothes, her hardened member rubbing against your ass cheeks making you giggle, “Needy?”

Well, she drools a lot.

“Sevika!” You screamed out, scratching at her shoulder as you tightened around her cock, her eyes rolled back as she felt the warmth of your tight, clenching pussy, “T-too much.” you stuttered and whimpered.

You pulled your pajamas off, along with your pristine white, now drenched and soiled with your discharge, panties off. “I don't even care about foreplay anymore,” Sevika said before she, without warning, thrusted her huge cock inside you.

“You can take it,” she reassured, though not so gently, and started ramming into your pussy, her thrusts careless and sloppy as she continued fucking into your hole, making you see stars. Her hands came down to grab your thighs as she forced them to spread, they were closing because of the pleasure and pain in your hole.

You hadn't had anything inside you for a month, and now the sudden intrusion made your pussy feel a burning stretch that felt absolutely delicious. Your breasts were bouncing up and down, one hand tangling in the sheets while the other held onto Sevika's bulging bicep, “F-f-fuck!”

You managed to let out a stuttering curse word, only egging Sevika on further. Sevika growled, “Taking me so well, little slut, I'm gonna ruin this hole,” she thrusted harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. “Touch yourself,” she ordered and you started rubbing your clitoris, your other hand playing with your nipple as she continued fucking you.

“Daddy, feels too good, please cu-cum…” you begged and blabbered. Drool, tears and sweat running down your face as she completely ruined you. “What a slut,” Sevika spat as she continued her actions, and with two powerful thrusts, she shot thick ropes of semen deep in your womb, making your toes curl and you squirted on her length right after.

Your back arched and lifted off the mattress momentarily while your legs and hands twitched. Sevika's thrusting barely ceased, she thrusted a few more times before she collapsed on the sheets beside you.

Your thighs and back fell back down on the mattress, chest heaving up and down rapidly as you tried to calm down. “S-So rough…” you managed a small whiny complaint, semen oozing out of your abused hole. Sevika only chuckled in response, “So wasted, my little dolly.”

She didn't stop there, she got up, lining her cock up against your asshole making you whimper and shake your head. “Daddy, no…” You got on your knees and tried to crawl away but Sevika took the chance, grabbing your forearms and shoving her cock in your asshole.

The burning pain was too much, making your legs shake and your hands started clawing at the sheets in an attempt to find comfort. Sevika pulled out a little, spitting on her cock, shoving it back in your ass and within a few more thrusts, it started feeling like a different sort of pleasure completely.

Your eyes widened, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cried into the pillow, “Daddy, no! Not in my butt!” You sniffled and cried. “Stop being such a whiny slut,” Sevika let go of your arms to send a harsh slap on your ass making your hips jerk a little, she grabbed your waist with both hands and started ramming into your asshole.

Her huge, veiny cock was slipping in and out of your asshole with ease, arousal dropping from your pussy and onto the sheets.

You never felt so humiliated and spent. “Taking daddy's cock so well,” she slapped your ass and continued thrusting, “Please, daddy, it hurts so much…” you protested weakly but she didn't stop.

Sevika slowly slipped her cock out of your body, watching as your asshole twitched a little, cum seeping out.

“C'mon you can do it, you're my girl aren't you?” Sevika threw her head back as you tensed up, asshole clenching, “Fuck, do that again.” You blinked a little in confusion and moaned when she thrusted and you clenched again. You gasped, “D-d-daddy!—” as she came inside your asshole too.

“Pretty,” she mumbled, shoving in a finger lazily fingering you.

“Let's get you a bubble bath now.”

“Daddy, can't, not anymore,” you whispered but she didn't cease her fingering, her mechanical hand slipping down to rub your pussy, pinching your clit. Your face contorted as you squirted. Sevika helped you onto your back and gave you a moment to catch your breath before she gave you a soft kiss on the head.

[hoshigray]

iillly happy bday bbgggg pls BULLY SATORUUUUU pleasepleaseoHFGOSH

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THANK YOU AND BET !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting; you + satoru are juniors - sex in a public space; library study room - breast fondling + nipple play - sex on a table - overstimulation - pet names (crybaby, cutie, pretty girl) - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap that shit up, kiddos ) - mention of cervix and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

“Ahhaaa! Thhh, shtopp! T’oo fast…!!”

“Yeah, goin’ too fast? Hnnmm, shit…tell that to your hips.”

This is not how this day was supposed to go, but that’s what having a bully in your life is like, right?

Today was one of those days where you’d spend most of your leisure time studying and catching up on upcoming coursework before the weekend, savoring your free days to rest and do some light reading for Monday. So here you were, spending the Thursday evening at the library in a study room you reserved until closing time. Fingers are typing away on your keyboard, putting words to your Word document while taking pieces of your french fries to munch—your study snack from the dining hall. 

And everything was going swimmingly, feeling the groove of things operate accordingly while bumping to your music.

Until your eyes snap to the door opening, and they widen at the sight of the culprit. Snow white hair and round glasses, and your stomach drops. “G-Gojo?”

“Yo!” He chips with a smirk, stepping inside and closing the door with his heel. You could’ve sworn you locked that door, but you’re sure it is now after he does it for you. “I knew I saw you walking out from the dining hall; the nerd is all cooped up in the library. Whatcha up to?”

“I, umm,” your gaze moves to your Word document, not wanting to see Gojo walk to where you’re sitting at the rectangle table. “J-Just, getting ready for a group seminar tomorrow…Need my notes ready.”

The tall boy slides his backpack off and drops it to the chair on the side of the table. His closing the door blinds and striding back to you grows the unsettling feeling in your tummy. “Ehhh, notes? Must be bored.”

“Not really…” It’s challenging to channel your focus on something productive when you watch from your peripheral with every step he takes until he’s behind you. “Just need to answer four more questions, and then I’ll,” your body rigid when he places his hands on your shoulders—there’s no escape now. “…I’ll be done.”

“Mmmm,” he hums and puts his chin to your head. “Working so hard, huh?” He kneads your shoulders and travels down to your arms. “I think it’s about time you give yourself a break.”

“Gojo, please,” pleads teeter out your mouth, yet your futile attempt to stand is refuted.

“Whaaat? You gotta give yourself breaks, right?” He moves his face to your shoulder to whine. “Can’t help a friend relax for a bit from studying?”

You open your mouth to respond, but words don’t leave your lips—a moan is snuck out from his hands, finding your chest. Sneaking inside your shirt to cup and soft mounds behind your bra. “Nnnn, n-no, we can’t…not here—“

“Psshh, you’re no fun, baby,” he coos to your ear, tweaking a nipple for you to squeak. “It won’t be for long, promise. Besides,” you turn to him, his blue orbs seen better from the dark shades now that you’re closer. “No one knows better to care for you than me, right? C’mon, just five minutes, and I’ll go, ‘kay?”

Your stomach has not stopped contorting knots ever since you saw that door open, and now you’re in a dilemma you prayed wouldn’t happen today. Regardless, you only have to give him what he wants, and you can return to work. So, you swallow your pride and kiss him on his soft lips. 

“—Ohhhh, y-you said for fi—Iiiive minutes…!!”

“Hahhh, did I say that? Heh, must be bad with time.”

Deliberately making a supposed five-minute break turn into nearly thirty minutes isn’t terrible with time—just plain ignorant. 

Your laptop, course material, and Gojo’s shades are pushed further into the table, substituting them with your figure to be laid on the edge of the table surface. Your bottoms and panties were stripped to the ground with Gojo’s jeans, your sexes exposed and now joined in the union as he propels his hips to pound into your chasm. Your cunt was a mess, slick, and come mixed and collecting in a soapy ring with the back-and-forth motions of your junior bully. 

The walls of the library rooms aren’t the best, nearly paper-thin to hear convos from one room to the other. You bite your lips to try to conceal your cries, but the curve of Gojo’s dick poking your walls have you screaming silently. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he intentionally grinds his pelvis to your folds, the broken wails egging him on to tease you more. “Scared someone will come and find us, huh? Scardey-cat,” the hands to your wrists pull you in with every rut. 

“Gaaahh, Gojooohhh,” your brows sewn together after the stimulation of your G-spot is hit yet again. “I’m sens’tiveee, go sloooww!”

“Shiiiit, that’s kinda hard when you’re clenching me so hard,” he hisses with a sigh. “Pretty much asking for me to mess you up.”

You shake your head at the brush of his tip hitting your cervix. “Ahaaaa, ohhJesus,” tears well up in your eyes with another jab to your womb.

“Oh, is the lil’ nerd about to cry?” Gojo bends down to you while his hips keep working, his flushed face inches closer to yours, and he wipes a tear with a thumb. “Awww, don’t do that; don’t want people next door to see what’s up with you.” His thumb enters your mouth, your tongue tasting your salty tear.

You sob on his digit, licking his thumb, and more twitches of your vagina come from more grazes on your inner texture. “Nhhooh, ahhhmyGod, good, feels tew goood…!”

Gojo can feel it; you’re clasping onto his length way too much not to notice. He snickers, “Gonna cum, baby?” You nod hurriedly, and he brings his forehead onto yours. “Want me to help you with that?” Too enraptured that you don’t notice him sneaking his hand to your lower half and a pinch to your clitoris has you cry. “Shhh, shhh,” he coaxes to your ear, his thumb swiping on the bud as you sob in parts. “Go ahead, wring me out, you slutty crybaby.”

Another pinch, and you’re contracting around him hard. Your orgasm hits you right there, the hot feeling of your body is washed with a sharp cold that rattles your legs. Hands come and grip the back of Gojo’s long sleeve, your cunt flitting on him as your body jolts from pleasure.

Gojo hurries to pull out and stroke his cock, his seed spilling out to paint your messy slit with the come oozing out from your hole. He throws his head back in bliss. “Shit, that felt good.”

“I,” you are stuck in a daze, yet you try to communicate. “I have to…get back to studyinng.”

“You still have some of those pills from last time?” You nod slowly as he brings his briefs and jeans back on. “Good! Be right back; gonna get some wipes from the restroom.” He then leaves and closes the door on his way out, leaving you cold and helpless on the table surface.

And now you know. Note to self: lock the door whenever you study at the library.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[hheonki]

ೀ C U GIRL (／＼)

I wanna see you girl I wanna please you girl

Alternatively: Behind the facade of rivalry, You and your bf share a secret romance—full of teasing, stolen moments, and the constant fear of getting caught in school wherein everyone believes you two can’t stand each other.

정원 x gn! reader ✦ est. secret relationship, academic rivals ★ 1.1k ✴︎ oneshot ☘︎ fluff, crack, close proximity, one curse word, Jungwon in love, playful teasing (as kids till now, still dumb)

notiza: lwk inspired by les - childish gambino but steve lacy also works me thinks

The whole school knew the rivalry between you two, but not the kisses and the sweet nothings easily spilling from your mouths, that you shared secretly.

Yang Jungwon did not care if the other students found out about your relationship, he seemed to always be in your space bubble.

More under the cut!

No matter how persistently you told him

“We can't get caught”

He would tune it out and gaze mischievously at your face as he brings up his hands to hold up your cheeks with gentleness and warmth.

Gazing with fondness and adoration as if you'd hung the stars in the sky. Introducing a new world that was once so unknown to him. Now filled with love, affection, tenderness, and soft intimacy.

Even in the classroom as the teacher in the front lecturers about Trigonometric Graphs, sitting across from you, he tries to peep toward your way, only to catch you already staring.

No matter how many times this has already happened it never seemed to change, ending with the both of you flustered and trying to concentrate on the lesson.

After classes, he whisks you away to an empty classroom. Confused, you ask “Aren't you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

“I'll meet up with them after school” Jungwon answers nonchalantly, peeking at you from time to time.

Absent-mindedly, you said “Oh well.. I'm going to work on my homework we got in the morning”.

Taking a seat on the first chair in sight you pulled out your materials.

A pout made itself evident on the boy's face, which seemed to give away he wasn't surprised by your actions.

“You seriously amaze me, everytime I pull you away from everyone's sight, you start doing school stuff”.

Glancing up at him, you squint your eyes, “I mean, what else do you want me to do?” and muttered “What if we get caught while being all lovey dovey, everyone believes we dislike each other..”

“And why's that?” asked the boy with feline like eyes. “We both know it started because of you” with a deadpan expression on your face you simply objected to his challenging question.

“What?” Jungwon drags out the question in disbelief with a frown adoring his face, a hand on his chest in mock offence.

you let out a sigh just at the thought of how annoying he was (still is).

“You would literally poke me for attention only to annoy me about how you got only one mark higher than me on your results.”

“Yeah but there was no need to kick me after!”

“Yes there was! you'd always pull my hair!”

Jungwons shoulder slumped as he took a trip down memory lane when he used to sit a seat behind you and pull at your hair, in hopes of getting your attention.

he had to admit he was glad he did so, or else he wouldn't call himself your friend and now boyfriend.

“Okay fine.. but that's what brought us together!”

He tried to convince you with an innocent look.

“You're so weird” you say with an amused laugh.

“But you like my weirdness”

“right” He challenged more than asked as he leaned over the desk to gaze down at your eyes, that he swore sparkle like the stars.

his trance wandered down to your plump lips, that called for him. The tension grew, the two of you however, quiet. As he leaned in, a sudden knock came from the classroom door.

Jungwons whole body stiffened as he stood straight like a pencil. “We should hide”

“Should we?” another knock “Hello is someone in there?” which sounded like a teacher's voice that was all too familiar.

"We should!" you whisper yell anxiously.

you grab your things to somehow hide them in the art supply cabinet. Jungwon pulls you from your waist “forget those”

“But-” you mutter but essentially give up after he drags you away “No buts babe now isn't the time..”

You hide inside the classroom storage that was usually filled with the old supplies covered in dust long forgotten but is somehow empty and clean now, which managed to fit you both as Jungwon pulled you closer toward his body.

“You alright?” he asks in a quiet tone.

"Yeah.." you could feel his shaky breath on your neck that sends goosebumps up your spine.

The classroom door opened with a ‘click’.

Footsteps seemed to near the storage, as you both looked at each other nervously but suddenly a booming voice was heard throughout the hallway which meant it was a group of rowdy friends.

The strides of the teacher became distant.

Which made you both let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

“That scared the shit out of me..”

as you looked at him he seemed to hold in his laughter, with a smack on his chest he finally burst out laughing. “Ow- What was that for?”

“We could have gotten caught!” with another smack on his arm, you try to pull away from his grip. “Yeah and we didn't, relax..” Jungwon’s hold on you only seems to tighten as you finally give in.

Leaning his head against your shoulder he inhales your scent, mumbling as suddenly a gloomy look adorned his face “I don't get why we have to keep our relationship a secret, not like we're committing a crime”

“I know.. it's just-” deep in thought you try to convey it the best way with words hoping he will understand “Even we are so used to us being..” ”opponents?” you roll your eyes at his words

“If you wanna put it like that, sure”.

His hands make their way to your cheeks tilting your head at an angle so your eyes lock as he gazes at every speck on your face “You know I love you?”

at his question you nod your head, snaking your hands over his.

“Then trust me” Jungwon utters in the softest tone possible, “We shouldn't care what others say, and that pretty head of yours is stressing to much”

both of you inch closer and his lips brush over yours as he eventually places tender kisses against the corner of your mouth before finally capturing your lips in a saccharine kiss hinting at a taste of the cherry airhead he ate earlier.

One of his hands trailed down to hold your waist, as if it was any more possible to be closer than already.

Your lungs felt like they might give up, so you tried to pull away to catch your breath but Jungwon had no intention to stop anytime soon.

With a poke to his chest, Jungwon laughs as he let's go, only for you to huff breathlessly,

“You sure you can't stay underwater for 20 minutes?” with a raised brow he was ready to tease you, “Can't handle a few kisses from your oh so loving boyfriend?”

“Oh my gosh, you're so annoying!”

you remark with no true malice underlying your tone while opening the door to the storage room, only to leave him behind trailing like a kicked kitty.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

48 / 1.1k / shark mermen Ghost and Soap + lionfish mermaid reader, courtesy of @porcelainpot :)

...

The moment you and Soap lock eyes, you push yourself up off the soft sea floor. Tendrils of sand, gold in the sun, trail after your tailfin all the way back into the tangle of reef coral you’ve claimed as your home.

Soap laughs behind you.

Why is he so obsessed with this? This stupid game he plays. Ghost—who rolls over near the sunny patch where you were just lazing together—doesn’t care when you’re around. You don’t bother him; he doesn’t bother you. But Soap won’t leave you alone. He all but ignores the clear warning signs all over your body—the auburn striping your tail; your bright, fanlike fins; the enormous fuckoff venom-coated spines running the length of your dorsal line, arms, and ear fins.  

You scowl. Every time you think he won’t find you when you venture out into the reef, every time you let yourself relax after the day’s hunting is done, he turns up. Watching you the same way he’s looking at you right now: too fucking closely. His eyes flash with mischief and lock onto your fins through the sparse gaps in your coral cave.

“Think she bites?” he asks Ghost.

Ghost grunts. “Most things do.”

“Saw her lookin’ at you like she might want to take a piece home.”

“Doubt it.”

“Doubt you’d feel it if she did. Could hardly kill a minnow with those wee teeth. Don’t know how she hunts with ‘em.”

You duck down back into the entrance of your cave with a flick of your lacy tail. He’s talking loudly enough for you to hear on purpose. “You’re never getting close enough to find out,” you snap.

Soap’s smirk stretches into a grin. You took the bait. “Can’t hide in your cage forever, can ya?”

Ghost rolls back over. “She’s got more sense than the ones who swim toward you.”

“Oh, piss off. Fleein’ from a predator is what prey fish do. It’s a natural response.”

You lurk a little further outside your cave. “I’m not prey. I’m just as much a predator as you sharks.”

This time, Ghost is the one who scoffs. “Sure you are.”

Soap swims up closer to your hiding spot, eyes roaming over your form. You bristle instinctively and raise your spines in warning as he drifts closer. But it doesn’t drive him away. If anything, it seems to draw his interest even more.

“Ya’ve got an impressive display, I’ll give it that,” he says. “But you’re a scrap compared to us.”

“So? I don’t need size to defend myself.” You fan your fins up higher, emboldened as you rise with the current.

Soap grins even wider at the threat display. You’re all barbed fins, colorful scales, and angry pout. His gaze reflects the challenge you’re issuing him. “Careful sayin’ that. I’ll chase you if you tease me.”

Ghost lets out an irritated growl at Soap’s flirtation, knowing very well Soap only says these things to get a rise out of you. “Those spines aren’t just for show, Soap. You know what lionfish venom feels like. Bet hers is worse. Might kill you. You think it's worth dying just to prove a point?"

“I think spines break as easy as they sting.”

Anger surges through your chest. “Brute,” you snap.

Soap laughs. You don’t seem to notice you’ve drifted some distance away from your hiding spot, but he has. Ghost shifts, side-eying both of you more closely.

“I’m just curious, gorgeous.” His senses sharpen with the thrill of your threat display and your anger. Of course he thinks it’s sexy. The more you insult him, the more he wants to see what it takes to earn more than just that sharp tongue of yours. “Think touchin’ you might be worth the sting.”

“You’d be wrong.”

“You’re cute when you’ve got a problem with me. Gnashin’ like a miniature barracuda.”

You puff up a little more, daring to swim closer. You’re smugly satisfied when he backs away a little in response.

“Try it,” you bluff.

Soap’s eyes drop down, tracing the length of your fins, and he grins. He’s just as aware of the lethality of any lionfish's wicked barbs as he is of their beauty, but he doesn’t seem particularly deterred by the threats of this particular mer wielding them. “Bet you wouldn’t bite me too hard.”

“Soap.” Ghost’s voice is calm, but a warning lurks in his tone. “Don’t provoke her.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Soap replies without looking away from you. “Bet those spines are brittle.” He reaches forward to touch one.

You hiss and whip your tail away on instinct, darting back. Your spines are still raised in defense. But your rational mind doesn’t want to risk him getting any closer. You don’t want him to know what happens if he's stung--that your venom is a faulty mimic of a true lionfish. He needs to think you're dangerous and keep his distance. And you need to keep your pride intact.

Soap hardly notices how upset you are. He’s thrilled to provoke an interesting new reaction out of you. Before he can reach out again, though, Ghost grabs his wrist and jerks him back, forcing him out of your personal space.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re not fast enough to avoid a sting.”

“You’re no fun, Ghost.”

“Fuck off,” you snap. Your heart is pounding. He got too close, way too close.

You retreat while Ghost has ahold of him, slipping down into your small den and out of sight. Soap calls after you, but he’s not surprised when you don’t come back out.

Soap rips his wrist out of Ghost’s claws with a muttered curse. At Ghost’s hard look, he snaps, “Like you wouldn’t do it too.”

“That’s not the problem. She’s a pincushion. You go pissing her off too much, you’re going to wind up full of poison.

“Aye.”

“And it'll probably kill you. Hurt the whole time doing it. It’s all fun and games until you’re dying because you just couldn’t help but poke a pretty fish.”

Soap scoffs. “You’re exaggerating. No sting can kill me. It'll hurt a little an’ I’ll be fine.”

Ghost gives Soap an unimpressed glance. “And if you're wrong? You think you’re strong enough to fight off a neurotoxin.” He snorts. “You want to test that hypothesis?”

Soap glances back at your den with a frown.

“Keep your bloody distance,” Ghost mutters, giving Soap a shove back toward the center of the reef. “She’s no prize.”

Soap gives in and turns back toward the reef, turning a restless corkscrew in the water. Still, the smirk reappears on his face. “Aye. Little nightmare, isn’t she?” He sighs. “All bite and no kiss.”

...

[part 1 ] / part 2 by porcelainpot here!! <3

more mer au / more Soap / masterlist

[stellasdrafts]

Girl Dad Headcanons - Arthur Morgan

“[Mr. Gillis] treats his daughter like a possession to be mistreated and abused as he sees fit. Strange creatures, men. I don’t know.”   -RDR2, Chapter 4, Fatherhood and Other Dreams

Notes: I was playing RDR2 the other day and his journal entry (above) after seeing Mary for the second time stood out to me. I think his relationship with women and feminism in the story is worth writing about. afab reader. 1.1k words.

Thinking of Arthur Morgan’s reaction to you birthing his little girl. It’s a surprise, naturally, given the time period. He isn’t disappointed by any means – God, no. He considers himself a blessed man as long as the little one looks like you. He’s concerned. Terrified of the world his little girl will have to live in, of the hardships she will be forced to face.

It isn’t something he’s thought of in such depth before. Sure, he’s had conversations with the women at camp -  he’s not naïve. Prejudices never even made logical sense to him.

Arthur, who didn’t bat an eye when Mary Beth told him she wanted to be a writer. He got her that pen without thinking twice because why shouldn’t women be able to write? Ain’t they people just like everyone else?

Arthur, who didn’t question Tilly for a second when finding out she killed that Foreman. He was told the asshole deserved it and sided with her in a heartbeat, assuming she had acted in self-defense. He would speak to her like a friend, too. Not like she was some inferior woman.

Arthur, who considered marrying Abigail when John left, because no woman should be shunned for being an unwed mother when it’s a deadbeat man who left in the first place. He always thought John took her for granted.

Arthur, who was always in awe of Sadie’s raw courage and determination, and who didn’t question her lead when she asked him to come along on her escapades. A good idea is a good idea, and a good shot is a good shot, no matter whom it comes from. She was a better fighter than most of the men in the gang, anyway.

Arthur, who saw Karen’s femininity as a strength rather than a weakness. She was clever and ambitious. She knew how people perceived her and used that to pull off outrageous heists. Plus, she wasn’t half bad with a shotgun. He never thought anything about her was weak.

Arthur, who despite enjoying teasing her, noticed everything Susan did for the camp. It secretly irritated him when he heard the others whining at her when she asked them to do chores because he knew the place would’ve fallen apart within days if it weren’t for her leadership.

Arthur, who immediately discerned when Molly started acting off. He checked in on her even when the rest of the camp villainized her as this spoiled, ungrateful girl. Sure, she had made mistakes, but most of the men had done worse.

A wave of dread washes over him as he admires his daughter, her little fingers wrapping around his finger, and he feels sick. He shouldn’t feel like this. He should be overcome with joy. Well, he is, but his upbringing will never allow him to be immersed in a moment without thinking of the harsh realities surrounding it. He looks at you and the fragile baby bundled in your arms. His whole world sits in the bed before him. Everyone and everything he values most in this miserable world – are women. Women who have and who will inevitably be mistreated and underestimated, despite having the power to create literal life. Despite being ten times more rational, intelligent, and kinder than almost all the men he’s known even with the challenges thrown at them. He makes a vow to himself the minute his daughter is born. A vow that he’ll never let anything happen to her or you as he did Eliza and Isaac. He’s never known his purpose in life, but from that moment on, he knows exactly why he was put on this earth – to care for the two of you, his family.

Arthur, who overheard how Micah would speak to and of the women at camp, and never so much as entertained his delusions.

Arthur, who always offers a hand to help women off or on their horses and wagons.

Arthur, who excuses himself when he bumps into women, as opposed to telling off men when he does them.

Arthur, who rides around Rhodes some weeks after your daughter was born, searching for any women he might recognize from the suffrage protest he crashed with Beau all that time ago.

Arthur, who stops in his tracks when he hears the voice of the woman in Saint-Denis who pickets for her voting rights – the same voice he’s heard twenty times before, but it feels different now. He drops a few bills into her hat because he’s never been a particularly political man, but he’ll be damned if his daughter doesn’t get a say in the kind of world she’ll live in when the time comes.

And you can be sure he’ll teach her how to handle a firearm when she’s older. It brings back unpleasant memories, and he wishes for a better life for her than what he had, of course, but he knows the type of men there are out there. Hell, he used to run with them.

Arthur, who sees the two of you as his redemption.

He doesn’t know how he’s been handed such goodness. Surely, he was undeserving after everything he’s done? But every time he lays eyes on his precious baby girl, he grants himself a smidge of forgiveness. Something all bad couldn’t produce something so perfect, right?

He listens to her babbles and he can’t understand a thing. He thinks back on every good thing he’s ruined in his life – he’s a destructive man. He destroys everything he touches, but his baby reaches out to him with a sleepy smile and the utmost trust. When she looks at him, she sees her father, not a killer but rather safety, not the blood of every man he’s killed but a warm embrace. She’s his, not in the sense of Mr. Gillis treating Mary like his property, but in the sense that he now has the privilege of having the responsibility to love, protect, and care for this angel of a being.

He's scared shitless. His father hadn��t stuck around much, but he’s determined to be the best version of himself for his little girl. He would never leave like his dad did. He would never give up on her as Dutch did him. He would teach her to be clever and to think on her toes, like Hosea did – without all the deception, of course.

Arthur, who starts a second journal to write solely about his girl, just to have something to leave her when the time comes. Until then, she’ll never know how good of a writer her father was.

He would gladly be a soldier one last time. One last time to give you and his daughter the life you deserve.

[carnalcrows]

SHUT UP AND LISTEN

genre: smut

pairing: sang-woo x top male reader

CW: unprotected sex, spit as lube, sub top reader, creampie, semi- public sex, a little gaslighting?

word count: 1.1k

The tension had been building for days.

Every time Sang-woo made a move, you were right there, questioning him, challenging him, getting in the way of his plans like you had some kind of moral compass that hadn’t already been crushed under the weight of this hellhole.

It was infuriating.

And tonight was the final straw.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Sang-woo muttered under his breath, voice low and tight.

“Yeah? And you do?” you shot back, arms crossed. “You think I’m just gonna sit here and nod while you throw other people under the bus?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Sang-woo snapped.

“We do. You just don’t like the options.”

His jaw clenched. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, frustration simmering just under the surface. He took a slow, measured breath like he was trying to keep his composure—but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply.

“Alright,” he said, voice eerily calm. “There’s only one way to do this.”

Before you could process what was happening, Sang-woo grabbed your wrist and dragged you toward the bathroom.

You scoffed, yanking against his grip. “Oh, so now you’re kidnapping me?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving open the door and pulling you inside. The room was dim, the flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead as the heavy scent of mildew and sweat clung to the air.

He didn’t stop until you were backed up against the stall door, his hands gripping your shirt as he pressed closer. His breath was warm, uneven.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked, heart pounding—not with fear, but with something else.

“My problem?” Sang-woo repeated, his voice dropping into something lower, darker. His hands curled into your collar, tugging you just a little closer. “You. You don’t listen. You always get in my way. You—”

He cut himself off, nostrils flaring as he stared at you like you were the most infuriating thing he’d ever seen.

And then, he kissed you.

It was sudden—like he’d lost whatever battle had been raging in his head. His lips crashed against yours, rough and frustrated, like he was pouring every ounce of pent-up aggression into it.

Your brain barely had time to catch up before your body reacted, hands flying to his waist as you yanked him down onto your lap.

Sang-woo let out a small, surprised noise before adjusting, his knees pressing into the seat on either side of your thighs. His hands fisted into your shirt like he hated how much he wanted this.

The kiss deepened.

It was messy, feverish—impatient. Teeth catching on lips, tongues tangling in a battle for control neither of you were willing to fully surrender. His fingers curled into your hair, gripping tight enough to make your breath hitch. You dug your fingers into his waist, dragging him closer, pressing him flush against you until there was barely any space left between you.

Sang-woo exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head just enough to slot his mouth over yours perfectly. His breath was warm against your lips, his hands slipping to your shoulders, pressing down, keeping you in place as he dominated the kiss.

You could feel his frustration in every movement—the way he kissed you harder whenever you made a noise, the way his fingers dug into your skin like he was grounding himself.

You didn’t mind.

Hell, you welcomed it.

A sharp bite to your lower lip made you groan, and Sang-woo pulled back just enough to smirk against your mouth. “Tch. Thought you liked talking,” he muttered, his voice low and slightly breathless.

“You—” You barely got the word out before he kissed you again, swallowing whatever comeback you had.

It was intoxicating.

“If you're going to mess up with my plans, at least be useful to me now”, the older man grunts before shifting his position slightly to yank your pants down.

You hissed as the cold air hit your cock, standing erect. It was weeping, beads of precum dripping from the head.

Sangwoo wordlessly shimmied down his pants and boxers, before prodding two fingers at your mouth.

“Suck.”

You complied, swirling the digits around with your tongue, never losing eye contact with the other man.

When he felt like his fingers were slick enough, he removed them from your lips with a pop, before angling himself differently and pressing his fingers at his hole.

He held tight onto your shoulder with his other hand as he worked on loosening himself up. Your hands were at his hips, but your mind was… well– not in the room.

He removed his fingers from his hole, and brought both hands to your shoulders, positioning himself right on top of your cock before sinking down on it.

Your breath hitched, he was so tight– and warm. You were in absolute bliss. Sangwoo hissed at the stretch has he settled down all the way till your hilt. His grip on your shoulders tightened as he started moving up and down on your cock.

You were overwhelmed with sensation, the cramped stall, the way his nails dug into your shoulders, his glasses that were almost falling off his face, but god– he looked absolutely delectable.

You lifted one hand from his waist and pushed his glasses up gently. He looked at you in surprise– his movements stuttering for a quick second before he resumed his pace, his goal solely to reach his own orgasm.

He felt it coming, and without warning, he released on your shirt, back slightly arching and one hand going to cover his mouth– he didn’t want to get caught, not like this.

You came soon after, the tightness and warmth of his gummy walls taking it out of you. You weren’t as strong as you initially thought, you couldn’t lift him off you, so you had to release in him, painting his walls a pearly white. 

He looked at you with surprise, flinching as the warmth entered him, but his shoulders relaxed as his head sunk into the crook of your neck, resting from the exhaustion.

You had no idea how long you were tangled up like that, breathless and feverish, gripping at each other like the world outside didn’t exist—

Until the door creaked.

A voice.

“Wait… what the hell?”

You froze.

Sang-woo froze.

Slowly, you both turned your heads to see Gi-hun and Ali standing in the doorway, wide-eyed, mouths slightly open in sheer, unfiltered shock.

Silence.

More silence.

Then—

“I—” Ali started, blinking rapidly. “I think we should go.”

“Yeah. Yep. Good idea,” Gi-hun agreed, already backing up.

The door swung shut behind them, leaving you and Sang-woo in complete silence.

Sang-woo let out a long breath through his nose, lips slightly swollen, hair mussed. Then, without looking at you, he muttered, “This is your fault.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking. “Sure, dude.”

He sighed. “Shut up.”

But he still didn’t move from your lap.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[baby-yongbok]

sub x sub smut is all i can think ab tbh!

like subby you and chan omg 😵‍💫

Good For You - Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧ Content warning - Unprotected sex, creampie, anal toys, established relationship [MDNI] ✧ WC - 1.1k ✧ a/n: I think that sub x sub is interesting and that Chan fit this really well. My second choice would've probably been Han or Felix. Maybe even Hyunjin. Even thought Chan fit it well this was a bit of a challenge. I hope I did it justice! Thanks for the request! (*^_^*) ✧ Masterlist ✧

Most couples wear matching hoodies or sneakers. They’d buy bracelets with similar color schemes but you and Chan had a different idea. 

 “Baby..” He whimpers while the butt plug you bought vibrates inside of him. You found a cute couples set, pretty and pink with a cute heart shaped jewel on the flared end. 

“Channie..” You whine, fighting with his jeans to free him. “Hol’ still please.. Need..”  

He squirms against the mattress beneath him, the plug working wonders against his prostate and making his cock leak sticky strings that you lick up hastily. Your own plug is going at full speed, pushing you closer to the release that Chan has been trying to tease all night. 

Your boyfriend pulls you up from your spot between his knees with a huff, “No.. no no wanna suck your cock..” You protest and Chan cuts you off with a sloppy kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Please just let me fuck you, need to fuck you, baby. I’ll be your good boy if you’ll be my good girl, please.” He pulls you into his lap and your hips buck at the contact. Your heads fall back, your breathing stutters as you paw at each other's bodies greedily. 

“I’m your good girl.” You moan, bucking your hips over him. Your pants found their way to the floor as soon as you two got home and your panties went somewhere with them. 

“Fuck, I can’t … you’re gonna make me cum..” His sentence breaks somewhere in the middle. His voice falters like his self control while you rub your slick bare cunt over his pulsing length. You grind over the head, rolling your hips in circles that makes you clench around the buzzing plug with a pathetic curse. 

“I’ll be so good, Channie, please..” His grip on your hips tightens, his eyes shut tight and his hurried breathing betrays him, getting caught in his chest when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. 

“Baby, let me fuck you, please please please.” Chan’s glassy eyes struggle to focus when he opens them to plead with you. “Ride me or - or I’ll ride you, please, anything..” 

His pleas mix with yours while you beg for the same exact thing. “Yes, yes, please..” You grind up and his cock slips inside. You share a fucked out keen and Chan’s fingers dig into your hips while yours press into his shoulders. 

“Fuck, move.. I need you to move or I’m gonna bust just like this, please..” Chan looks and sounds like he could cry. The plug pressing against his sweet spot is nearly painful with pleasure and when you move, bouncing over him just how he likes it, the plug fucks into him and his eyes roll back.

You’re no better, filled in both holes and seconds away from bursting at the seams. You can feel Chan’s thick cock rub up against the plug, you can feel the way he twitches with each wave of vibration that surges through you and you can feel your clit throb with pleasure from your impending climax. 

“Don’t stop, Don’t stop, you’re such a good - good girl f’ me..” His words are choked and the air is crowded with whimpers but his are significantly louder, overpowering your breathy whines with heady grunts and pathetic groans that only fuel the fire burning hot in your core. 

He meets you with a thrust each time you bounce over him, his rhythm falters and he bucks up. You swear that you can feel him in your stomach. You fall forward and he holds you tight, squeezing you and fucking up into you faster to chase his own high. 

“Channie, baby, feels so.. good. Please don’t cum yet, please don’t stop yet..” He whines, his hips stuttering again. 

“Need to cum, baby, need to..” His words are nearly incoherent when he speaks through clenched teeth. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna be your good boy but.. But..”

You clench around him and the both of you fall apart. Your orgasm dangles in front of your face, your clit pulses from the traveling vibrations of the plug and your boyfriend's intense climax only makes it worse. 

Chan melts beneath you, squeezing you to his chest and panting like he’s been underwater for ages. His cock twitches and pulses while he fucks you through his high. His movements are fast and choppy while he’s rambling in your ear.

“M’ sorry, sorry - fuck, s-so tight… so good, please cum.. I’ll make you cum, I’ll be your good boy.” His arm wraps around your waist and his hand cradles the back of your head while he moves you over him like a doll. A glorified flesh light designed just for him. 

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you. Look at me, please.. Wanna see you, baby.” He tries to pull back, tries to look you in the eye but the overstimulation of this messy cocktail has his glassy eyes hiding behind his lids. 

“Too much..” He bucks up harder and you’re seeing white. Everything seems to vanish as the pleasure seeps in and takes over. You scream, tears rolling down your cheeks as you chant a chorus of “thank you’s” to him. While you’re falling apart on top of him, Chan is being milked dry. 

He groans, it falls into a pathetic whine like he’s crying for you while his sensitive cock twitches inside of your swollen walls yet again. Your full cunt makes room for the new load by pushing your limits, making you leak around the base of his cock. 

“F-fuck, too much.” He whimpers while you ride out your high with fat tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel the overstimulation too. You feel the vibrating and pulsing and leaking. “Senstive, my dick is fucking… shit… baby, baby, get off..”

He lifts you and you whimper. His cock falls forward, his cum leaks from your stretched hole. His dick is red, swollen and pulsing and pretty. You straddle his thighs, watching his cock jump while leaking over the toned and taut muscle of his stomach. 

Your plugs are still going at high speed and he clenches around it. “I’m gonna k-keep fucking cumming if you don’t turn that off…” He doesn’t sound as opposed to it as he tries to seem. You look up at him with big eyes, blinking at him with an insatiable urge to empty him.

“I’ll be your good girl if you’ll be my good boy..” Your voice is soft yet strained from the earlier screaming and Chan curses. He squirms, looking down at you with eyes just as shiny as yours. Just as needy as yours. 

“I’m your good boy.”

Perm. Tag List:

@dreamingaboutjisung @nxtt2-u @kayleefriedchicken

@compersian @kibs-and-bits @lixiluvs @armystay89 @lghtdarling

@teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @lghtdarling @yaorzu-blog

@wealwayskeepfighting

[hoe4hotchner]

Retirement | [A.H]

Pairing: Retired!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Nothing but cuteness

A/N: Don't worry, Hotch is not an old man he's like late 50's early 60's in this based on Jack being in college ;)

The porch was bathed in the golden light from the afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the wooden planks. The gentle creak of the rocking chair kept rhythm with the distant hum of cicadas, a sound that had become so familiar it felt like part of the air itself.

A soft breeze carried the scent of summer—freshly cut grass, the lingering sweetness of honeysuckle climbing the trellis, and the faint, smoky remnants of the firewood stacked near the house.

You leaned against Hotch’s chest, his arms loosely draped around your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns on your bare legs. The warmth of him seeped into you. You let out a content sigh, snuggling further into his chest.

It had been six months since he left the BAU. Six months of long walks through the countryside, of mornings spent in bed with no reason to rush, of rediscovering a man who had spent years sacrificing himself for the safety of others.

At first, the transition had been difficult. Aaron had been hesitant, unsure of who he was outside of the job, as though his identity had been stitched together by the cases, the late nights, the endless chase of justice.

He had been restless, waking up at odd hours as though his body still expected the call of duty. Some nights, you had found him on the porch, staring into the darkness, lost in thought. And other's you had found him sitting in the kitchen, his phone open on either JJ or Emily's contact in his phone, debating whether he should check in and see how everything was going without him.

But in this almost sanctuary you had built together, he had begun to unravel—layer by layer, breath by breath. The sharp edges of stress had softened, the lines around his mouth no longer weighed down by exhaustion. He still carried the past with him, no doubt he'd always have it with him, but it no longer defined him.

Your legs stretched over his lap, the warmth of his hands resting against your skin. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your knee, and you smiled, closing your eyes as the wind tousled your hair.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, edged with that lingering gravel that had always made your stomach flip.

You hummed in response. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

You tilted your head back, meeting his eyes. The sunlight hit them just right, turning the brown into something lighter, warmer. “How much I love you.”

His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing as he squeezed your thigh. “You always get sentimental when we sit out here.”

“Can you blame me?” you teased, running your fingers through the graying strands at his temple. “Look at this. It’s peaceful. I never thought we’d have something like this.”

He exhaled, long and slow. “Neither did I.”

There was something about the way he said it, the weight behind the words, that made your chest tighten. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Are you happy, Aaron?”

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his gaze soft but intent. “More than I ever thought possible.”

You kissed his shoulder, letting the moment stretch, settling into the quiet contentment that came so easily now.

You tilted your head slightly against him, voice soft as you asked, "How's Jack?"

Aaron exhaled, a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he continued tracing patterns against your skin. "I talked to him yesterday," he said, his voice warm with pride. "He sounds happy. Settling into college well, making friends. He even mentioned joining an intramural soccer team."

Your smile widened at that. "That’s wonderful. He always did love playing." You recalled the games Aaron had invited you to when Jack was only a young boy

Hotch nodded, the tension he once carried about Jack leaving for college no longer evident in his expression. "He said his classes are challenging but interesting. And he likes his professors."

You ran your fingers gently along his arm, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek. "He’s thriving, then. Just like you wanted."

Aaron let out a quiet chuckle. "Just like we wanted. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. I think Haley would be proud."

You squeezed his hand, understanding the weight of his words. "She would be. You’ve raised a good man, Aaron."

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, silent gratitude passing between you. You let the moment settle between you, filled with warmth and love.

A rustling sound caught your attention, and when you glanced to the side, a small smile pulled at your lips. “Aaron,” you whispered, nudging him lightly. “Look.”

He followed your gaze, and there, across the wooden railing of the porch, a handful of ladybugs had gathered, their tiny, spotted bodies crawling along the grain of the wood. One took flight, landing on your outstretched hand.

Hotch chuckled. “Looks like you’re a favorite today.”

You watched the little insect as it wandered across your palm. “You know, my grandmother used to say ladybugs were good luck.”

“Did she?” He tilted his head, watching as another landed near his wrist. “Mmhm.” You met his eyes, a teasing glint in yours. “I think it’s a sign.” He arched a brow. “Of what?”

“That this—” you gestured around you, at the house, the land, the life you had built together— “was always meant to be.”

His expression softened. He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers. “I don’t need a sign to know that.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sounds the distant chirping of birds, the whisper of leaves rustling in the breeze, and the steady rise and fall of Aaron’s breath. He had a way of making the world feel smaller, simpler—of making you feel like the only thing that mattered.

“Jack texted earlier by the way,” he murmured after a moment, remembering something he had forgotten to tell you when you asked about him. “Said he wants to come up next weekend.”

Your heart warmed at the mention of a visit. “That sounds perfect. Maybe we can take him fishing.”

Hotch’s lips quirked. “You still think you can out-fish me?”

You grinned. “Oh, I don’t think—I know.”

He chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. “We’ll see about that.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink, you leaned back against him, letting the moment settle deep into your bones.

The world felt softer here, free of the chaos and darkness that had once consumed so much of your lives.

[ka1rin]

Blue Lock Romantic Tropes

isagi, kaiser, sae, rin, reo, nagi x reader (separate)

word count: 1.1k , genre: romance / fluff

note: this story is about what romantic trope would suit these Blue Lock characters. I hope you guys love this!

Isagi Yoichi — Childhood Friends

Yoichi Isagi had always been head over heels for her—though he didn’t realize it until it was almost too late. She’d been his best friend for as long as he could remember. She was the one who stayed after practice to kick a ball around when no one else would, the one who always seemed to know exactly what to say after a tough game.

But lately, everything felt different. He couldn’t stop noticing the way her hair caught the sunlight or the way her laughter softened the edges of a bad day. He wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t just his best friend anymore.

They walked home together like always, her voice filling the air with stories about her day. Isagi barely heard a word. His mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

When they reached her street, she stopped and turned to face him. “You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. “Do you ever think about the future?”

Her brow furrowed. “Sure. Why?”

“I mean… us,” he said softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “Do you ever think about where we’ll end up?”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. “What are you trying to say, Yoichi?”

“I think—no, I know—I want you in my future,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as my best friend, but as… something more.”

Michael Kaiser — Enemies to Lovers

Michael Kaiser had never believed in losing. In his mind, every match, every argument, every moment in life was a game to be won. That’s why she infuriated him so much. She wasn’t interested in playing by his rules.

From the moment they met, she challenged him—both on and off the field. She had a knack for seeing through his façade, stripping away the charm he used so effortlessly on everyone else. At first, he hated it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One evening, after yet another clash on the pitch, he found her sitting alone in the stands. The moonlight caught the curve of her profile, making her look softer than he was used to seeing.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure you out,” he replied, sliding onto the bench beside her.

“You won’t,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re not as good at reading people as you think.”

Kaiser smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “And you’re not as immune to me as you pretend to be.”

Her lips twitched, but she said nothing.

For the first time, Kaiser felt like this wasn’t a game he could win—or one he wanted to.

Sae Itoshi — Second Chance

Sae Itoshi had always been good at letting go. Whether it was friends, family, or teammates, he had a way of detaching himself from people, of moving forward without looking back.

But she was different.

She’d been his calm in the storm, the person who grounded him when the pressure of his career threatened to swallow him whole. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her until the day he walked away, convincing himself it was for the best.

Now, years later, she stood before him at the airport, looking as composed as ever. His pulse quickened at the sight of her, and for the first time in a long while, Sae felt unsure of himself.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly, studying him like she was trying to figure out a puzzle.

“Not enough,” he admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she glanced away. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he confessed. “Because letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Rin Itoshi — Sun and Moon

Rin Itoshi didn’t believe in distractions. He’d built his life around focus and discipline, shutting out anything that might interfere with his pursuit of perfection.

Then she came along.

She was everything he wasn’t—bright, cheerful, and completely unafraid to push her way into his life. At first, Rin had found her presence irritating, but over time, he started to notice the small things: the way she always brought him water during practice, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces of his world.

One afternoon, as they sat in the park, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. “You should smile more, you know. It’s not illegal.”

He frowned, looking away. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it suits you,” she said simply, leaning back against the bench.

Rin’s chest tightened at her words. He didn’t know how to explain that smiling felt foreign to him—except when she was around.

Reo Mikage — Unrequited Love

Reo Mikage had always been drawn to her. She was different from everyone else in his life, uninterested in his money or his status. She treated him like an equal, never hesitating to call him out when he deserved it.

He’d fallen for her quietly, keeping his feelings to himself out of fear that she’d never see him the way he saw her. Still, he stayed by her side, always there when she needed him, hoping one day she might look at him differently.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet café, she broke the silence. “Reo, why are you always here for me?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’ve never asked for anything in return,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Why?”

Reo hesitated, his heart pounding. “Because you’re important to me. That’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on him, and for the first time, he thought he saw something shift in her eyes.

Nagi Seishiro — Forced Proximity

Seishiro Nagi didn’t like effort. He preferred simplicity, staying in his comfort zone, and avoiding anything that felt like too much work.

So when she moved into his apartment as his new roommate, he wasn’t thrilled. She was loud, messy, and always finding ways to drag him into her whirlwind of energy. At first, he counted the days until she’d leave. But as time passed, he started to notice the way her laughter brightened the dull moments, the way she always made sure he had dinner even if she didn’t cook for herself.

One night, as they sat on the floor eating instant ramen, she looked over at him and smiled. “You’re not so bad to live with, you know.”

Nagi shrugged, his usual indifference masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re okay too, I guess.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Wow, such high praise.”

He glanced at her, his voice softer than usual. “I mean it. I don’t mind you being here.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, Nagi felt like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.