#golf shirts pictures

[christiangeistdorfer]

FRANÇOIS CEVERT plays a game of golf before the 1971 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

i love listenting to commentating on 'slower' sports bc it always gets to the point where the commentators are just having a little chat..... in one of the tennis matches i watched yesterday the commentators spent five minutes talking about the size of one of the players' muscles, and then comparing them to the size of their own muscles back in the day. the day before that they were placing bets on how many drinks one of the crowd members had had. it's like real-time gogglebox i love it

[rafesgfs]

just a friend

he’s just a friend … but.

He’s just a friend, but he sleeps over almost every night. Whether you’re begging him to stay the night because you need a pillow or angry with him for insulting your friends, he’s there on your bed, substituting as a body pillow. No matter what position you fall asleep in, you always wake up draped across his chest, face nuzzled against the crook of his neck.

He’s just a friend, but he spoils you constantly. He gifts you a diamond tennis bracelet when your cat dies, hoping to cheer you up. He buys a convertible when you finally get your driver’s license, grinning when he sees your gleeful face. He showers you with your favorite flowers when get into your dream college. He buys whatever you look at when you take him shopping, repaying him with a kiss on the cheek, and it’s enough for him.

He’s just a friend, but you’re his only soft spot. Everyone else walks on eggshells around him, worried about being in his warpath. Even his own family wasn’t an exception to his hostility, especially after he stopped trying to win his dad’s approval. He does everything you want him to because why wouldn’t he? Hold your bag? No problem. Pick you up from a party? His pleasure. Stop being a rich, egotistical asshole? For you and you only.

He’s just a friend, but he’s your date to every formal and informal function. It’s just easier that way, you both explain to your friends. Midsummer’s preparation goes smoother when you already have a date, someone who will dance with you without complaint, someone who’ll make fun of whatever headpiece Rose is wearing, and someone who’ll sneak out early to drive their dad’s boat to another island.

He’s just a friend, but he knows everything about you. He comes with you to the doctor, dentist, and gyno visits for moral support, sometimes going in the room when needed. You had brought up being codependent but he quickly waves it off. He’s stocked a drawer in his bathroom with tampons and pads, and a few bottles of Tylenol in case you get your period on the nights you stay at Tanneyhill. He carries a cooler filled with water in his car because he knows you hate the intense heat. He wears an extra pair of sunglasses tucked in his shirt for you when you both go to the beach because you always manage to forget yours.

He’s just a friend, but his family thinks you’re dating. Sarah keeps asking you if you are, hoping to drag the truth out. You tell your friend no, laughing at the thought. Ward sits him down to talk after catching him admiring you during breakfast. He stays silent. Rose questions you about what she should give Rafe for his birthday, thinking the same as her husband. You laugh again at the thought, not noticing the way his jaw clenches when you make fun of the idea.

He’s just a friend, but he hates it when guys flirt with you. You’re too pretty to be entertaining guys who are far below you. He strains a muscle from resisting the temptation to punch the man standing too close to you, bicep veins popping out from the resistance. He drags you away when the guy tries to cage you against the wall, making up an excuse, needing help with containing a drunk Wheezie.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t go a minute without thinking about you. When life separates you, despite Rafe’s plans to be at your side twenty-four-seven, he texts you. He ignores Topper and Kelce’s snickers as he pulls his phone out during a round of golf, taking a picture of the sunset to send to you. His friends’ teasing is worth it when you text him back, telling him how much you like his improving photography skills.

He’s just a friend, but he can’t fight the urge to attack the guy kissing you. He blacks out, rage consuming every cell in his body as he breaks the man’s nose and grasps his throat until his hands leave bruises. His brain doesn’t focus until you’re back in his line of sight, blue eyes meeting yours. Despite the man coughing on the ground, surrounded by concerned partygoers, you pay no attention to the injured, instead, pulling Rafe away before yelling at him in his room.

He’s just a friend, but he’s at your door with flowers, apologizing. He stammers out an apology because he was never good at them, and never had the maturity to admit he was wrong and beg for forgiveness. When you stare at him with a blank look, he gets desperate, taking your hands in his and slowly dropping to his knees, eyes pleading with you. He promises to never get that violent again, and you believe him because Rafe Cameron could never lie to you.

He’s just a friend, but he kisses your forehead every night after you fall asleep, waiting for you to doze off before doing so. He presses his lips to your head, warmth in his heart as it yearns for yours.

He’s just a friend, but he wants to be more.

[traumatrios]

i can't stop thinking about Stanford!art in his backwards hat!! could u maybe write something for Stanford art plsss no pressure tho.

warnings! frat boy!art, drinking and suggestiveness (?)

josie’s notes! loved this look sm 🧎‍♀️ pls tell me if yall understand the ending bc idk if i was too vague…

You don’t know where it came from— besides the obvious Stanford merch shop on campus. Art just began to wear the cap every day. He always defended the look with “it helps keep the hair from my eyes” and how the girls “totally dig it”.

He was right, even when being sarcastic about it. You did ‘dig’ it.

It gave him the flare of a true college stud, especially when he decided to join a lesser-known frat and paired the red hat with a Kappa Alpha t-shirt on.

God, you would feel the drool pooling in your mouth the first time he gave you a peek at the new look.

Frat boys weren’t your type, but when Art sported the charisma one could get only from brotherhood, it was just so attractive.

“If you take a picture it will last longer.”

Art appeared in front of you with a red solo cup in one hand and the other stuffed into his jeans. Fuck, you were caught.

Parties became a regular occurrence in Art’s social life, which eventually meant it became one in yours, too. Especially when your mutual friends swear you’re only seen together… which isn’t true!

“You don’t think my eyes are pretty?” You fluttered your eyelashes up at the boy, your intoxicated state influencing the confidence that gushed from your features.

“Very pretty,” he smiled. Art was surprisingly tolerant of his alcohol, which is something you’ve questioned for the past two years of your close friendship. You, on the other hand.

“Mm, like your hat,” you reached a hand up to twist the rim of his cap. Now he had been shadowing his forehead rather than the back of his neck.

Now he looked like a golfing dad, especially with the million dollar twinkle in his eye and the way he charmed you to the bone.

Unhappy with the new look, Art took the hat completely off of his head and fixed it on yours. The canvas material of the hat wrinkled around the width of your head and even slid to the space between your brows. Nonetheless, your smile persisted.

He was convinced it lit up the whole room.

“Your head is big,” was all you could say, giggling at how he rolled his eyes and threatened to take the hat back by lunging one of his large hands toward the cap. You swung up your forearm in defense, turning your head away from the boy.

Art pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you twirl away from his playful attacks. “Mine now?” you asked.

“No-no, but keep it on ‘til the morning,” he flicked your forehead, just above the adjustable snaps of the cap.

You rose an eyebrow in question. “Morning?”

Art didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just wrapped his fingers around the rim of your cup sauntered off to the kitchen.

divider by @benkeibear!

[guiltyasdave]

the pedrolympics

daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i are spending our days watching the olympic games and we got to thinking… which sports would the pedro boys compete in? (there might have also been tequila involved in the decision making)

pre outbreak joel - football (…soccer) because of sarah

post outbreak joel - shooting, for obvious reasons

tim rockford - rowing, that’s where the obscenely broad shoulders come from

marcus acacius - triathlon, because swimming in the seine would add to the grime so nicely

max phillips - swimming, because it seems like the fuckboy thing to do

marcus pike - table tennis, self explanatory

lucien flores - surfing, it’s the flowing shirt and the soft beach waves

frankie morales - wrestling. just picture it

ezra - canoe slalom, in the paralympics

marcus moreno - decathlon, because he can do everything

dave york - tennis. daphne mentioned the grunts and moans we’d get to hear. jana died.

agent whiskey - eventing. riding horses so we can ride the cowboy

javier peña - beach volleyball, in tiny shorts

javi gutierrez - artistic swimming, he’s got the moves for sure and picture him in a swimming cap 🥹

pero tovar - judo, he knows how to use his hands and body

oberyn martell - diving & gymnastics, because he’s a show off that can do both. also the shoulders

maxwell lord - fencing, rich people sport but cooler than golfing

din djarin - rugby. the thighs. he can run. he can jump. he has experience in holding onto a green baby shaped like a rugby ball.

dio morrissey - skateboarding, wearing all black

comandante veracruz - sport climbing. also hosts knife throwing competitions in the olympic village.

clint - boxing. again, just look at him

reed richards - golfing. he’s a distinguished gentleman okay. could also be accused of cheating in most other sports

unnamed materialists sugar daddy - dressage, he knows how to make you… stay in line (we don’t know what’s wrong with us)

dieter bravo - manages the team’s social media account. he’s a star on tiktok

let us know your takes! 🫶🏻

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

More CEORRY smut pls! He’s so HAWT🥵🥵

Got Me Right Where You Want Me*

warnings: smut, swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding, exhibitionism

summary: YN and Harry spend a day on the golf course together, but she won’t make it easy for him

pairing: ceo harry x reader

wc: 5.4k

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests open

a/n: i’ve decided i’m gonna try and post a oneshot every friday (key word is TRY😭) and i’ll probably do blurbs in between

~

Fresh out of the shower with wet hair and a towel around his waist, Harry steps into his and YN’s shared bedroom, humming the tune of the song he’d been listening to. His eyes instantly travel to his wife, who is freshly showered as well, still sitting in the exact same spot she was in when he went to shower. He rolls his eyes fondly as he watched her scroll through her emails with just a towel around her, the cutest look of concentration adorning her face.

Making his way to her, he sits down next to her, and she looks up at him with a soft smile. Returning her smile, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly. She melts into him and frowns when they pull away, making him chuckle at her.

“Do you want to come with me to the course today?” he questions, standing from the bed and heading to the closet. YN is slightly confused, as he’s never asked her to accompany him before.

“I mean, of course, but what’s the occasion?“ she asks, standing up as well and heading to her side of the closet. Her eyes skim over her clothes as she awaits his answer, a sigh leaving her when she realizes she’d left her white tennis skirt at their London home the last time they visited.

“Just miss you,” he responds, sitting down on his ottoman to pull his shirt over his head. “Been busy all week and we haven’t really had any time together,” he finishes timidly, making YN laugh quietly at him.

Walking over to him, she leans over him and places her hands on his chest. “We’ve been together for ten years and you’re still afraid to admit you love me?” she questions. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me or something,” she teases, heading back to her space to find an outfit.

Harry tuts at her, a frown tugging at his lips. “Oh, shut the fuck up. You know m’not ashamed of you. Never have been, never could be,” he retorts, pulling his pants up before sliding his feet into his shoes.

She laughs heartily at her husband, sitting down to start moisturizing her skin. “Yeah, I bet you can’t be. Especially not when you cried like a baby at our wedding in front of all your tough guy friends,” she teases, making him scoff in mock offence.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he laughs, pushing her shoulder playfully before standing up to loop his belt into his pants. “I still think you’re the one who leaked those pictures,” he mutters, making her double over in laughter at the memory behind the accusation.

He makes his way from the closet with a dimpled grin on his face, headed to the garage to get his clubs. “I’m ready whenever you are, gonna be in the Range Rover,” he calls, and she nods in agreement although he can’t see her.

Standing back up, she skims her closet once more, dragging her finger along each item of clothing as she tries to decide what to wear. She knows it’s nearly 100°F in LA, so she needs something that’ll keep her cool.

Her eyes land on a purple, thin, tennis dress, and her face lights up as it’s absolutely perfect. It matches Harry’s shirt almost perfectly, and it’s thin enough to keep her cool out in the summer heat.

Taking it off the hanger, she smiles as she notices just how short it is, and knowing that it will be even shorter once it’s on her body. She slides on a decides against a bra, knowing it’ll be uncomfortable in the material and she can use it to her advantage anyways.

She immediately slips the dress over her head before deciding on some plain white sneakers and putting on some jewelry and perfume before heading out of the closet and down to the car where Harry is waiting for her.

In no rush at all, she takes her time and makes her way down to the garage, anticipating Harry’s reaction. She closes the door behind her and slips into the car without a word, buckling her seatbelt.

Harry’s eyes are practically burning her skin with how hard he’s staring, and she doesn’t even have to look at him to know that his eyes are bulging out of his head.

Turning to look at him, she puts on a look of faux confusion as she eyes him. “Are you okay?” she questions innocently, placing her arm on his bicep.

Her touch seems to snap him out of the trance, and he clears his throat with a small nod before pulling out of the garage and heading down the road. A small smirk plays on YN’s lips as they make the drive there, loving how fidgety Harry is beside her. She can clearly see his jaw clench every time he spares her a glance before swallowing thickly, his Adam’s Apple straining against the skin of his throat.

When the two are sat at a red light, YN decides to take it a step further. Reaching over, she places a hand on his thigh and feels the thick muscle twitch beneath her palm. Harry glares at her for a split second before the light turns green, his eyes snapping back to the road ahead.

A sigh of relief passes through his lips when he sees the familiar greenery of their country club’s golf course, ready to get out of the car that’s so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. He practically speeds into his reserved parking spot, throwing the car in park and leaning back to rest against the seat.

Still smirking, YN moves her hand from his thigh to the very prominent bulge in his slacks, grazing it gently. She’s filled with satisfaction when he inhales sharply and cuts his eyes to hers in anger.

Before he can retaliate, she’s slipping out of the car quickly, and he’s not even a little bit surprised when she ‘drops’ her visor on the ground outside the car only to bend down to pick it up.

His eyes are bulging out of his head once again as he has a full view of her barely covered ass, making him stifle a groan. He can’t even form any words to speak, not that he’d get a word in anyways as she closes the door and heads into the building, a smug smile on her face.

In the car, Harry’s mouth is agape as he recalls each event he’s gone through since he stepped out of his shower, palming his cock as he realizes her game. He’s so hard it hurts, but he tries his best to will the boner away, all while coming up with a plan to even the score.

~

Rolling her eyes in frustration, YN flips Harry the middle finger as he turns to look at her, a dimpled smile on his face. Sweat is glistening on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face in the humid LA heat, and YN is damn near dripping down her thighs as she watches him play.

Ever since Harry set foot into the country club with a dimpled grin on his face, YN knew she’d fucked up by teasing him the way she did. No matter how nervous she gets, though, she refuses to show it.

With each precise swing of his favourite club, Harry makes sure to flex his muscles extra hard, and groans extra loud when the ball doesn’t go as far as he’d like.

After each of these, he cuts his eyes to his wife who is trying to act like it’s not affecting her, but he can see through her tough act. Just the thought of her dripping into her panties but acting like she isn’t has his knees weak.

About three holes in, Harry decides to take a break and go inside the club for some much needed air. He hops onto his reserved golf cart beside his wife and leans over to give her a peck on the lips before driving toward the building.

His smirk is still very evident when he places his free hand on her thigh that’s closest to him, and YN thinks nothing of it as it is a normal gesture. When he moves his hand up higher to the bottom of her dress, her breath hitches and she whips her head to look at him as she realizes what he’s doing.

“You’re not funny, H,” she hisses, a scowl on her face as his fingers touch the crevice where her thigh and pelvis meet.

Harry scoffs out a sarcastic laugh at her comment before he speaks up. “Yeah, but it was funny when you did it, hm?” he retorts, making the sharp turn that leads them to the concrete road. The movement makes his hand graze right over her pussy, and the both of them gasp quietly at the feeling.

Smirking, Harry turns his head to her for a split second. “It’s not funny. I see,” he mutters. “‘s not funny because you’re dripping into your panties and you want me to do something about it, right?” he questions, pulling into the parking spot and killing the engine.

He doesn’t even give her time to answer before he’s pushing down right where her clit is, making her choke out a moan.

Just as she starts to buck her hips into his hand, he pulls away, laughing loudly as she whines in frustration. “Should’ve thought about that before you started this, Pet,” he teases, waiting for her to climb out of the cart and head inside.

He reaches his hand out for hers, but she angrily stoops past him, upset that he’s beat her at her own game. The action makes him laugh even harder, shaking his head at his prideful wife.

~

Once inside the club, Harry gruffly greets everyone he knows, ignoring the ogling women around him. He truly only has eyes for his wife, not even bothering to look their way. Each woman has their eyes on him as he steps in, confused as to why he stood waiting by the entrance.

All of their confusion quickly moulds into jealousy as they see a beautiful woman enter the building, a pretty dress on that is the same colour as Harry’s shirt. They each take note of how he smiles softly at her and wraps his arm around her waist to keep her close, a stark contrast to the way he interacts with others.

The club is silent as the two make their way to the bar, watching the way his arm never leaves her body. No one has ever seen YN, let alone the way he treats her differently than everyone else.

The two of them just end up getting waters, parched from the heat. Despite the fact that water is free there, Harry makes sure to slap two $100 bills onto the counter once they receive their drinks.

It’s no longer silent in the club, the onlookers going back about their day as the two are literally just drinking water. Once the two are all refreshed from the cold drinks, Harry places a ringed hand on YN’s thigh once again, making her jump slightly at the coldness of his palm.

She has to stifle a groan when he picks up where he left off earlier, toying with the edge of her panties before pulling them to the side and swiping a finger through her folds. The action has her eyes rolling into her head when he grazes her sensitive clit, and then he just pulls away.

YN groans in frustration at the teasing, leaning up to whisper in his ear angrily. “Okay, it’s not fucking funny anymore,” she grits out, making Harry’s eyes widen slightly in shock. “If you aren’t going to fuck me then stop fucking touching me,” she finishes, sitting up straight once more.

Turning her head, she looks at her husband and immediately knows she fucked up. His eyes have darkened and his jaw is clenched. Unsurprisingly, the sight only turns her on even more, and she has to squeeze her thighs together to try and relieve some of the throbbing between her legs.

“In the fucking bathroom. I want you bent over the sink with y’panties down,” he demands, pinching her clit slightly and making her whimper at the slight pain that shoots up her spine. “And don’t even think about touching yourself. You’re already in trouble,” he warns, snapping her panties back into place and taking another drink of his water.

She practically scrambles as she hurries to the family bathroom, doing as he says and hoping that no one comes in and sees her exposed this way.

It’s definitely been over ten minutes by the time she’s getting so desperate she can barely wait, and then the door swings open, making her tense. She hears a familiar hum of satisfaction from behind her, and she relaxes as it’s only her husband.

Closing the door behind him, he doesn’t take his eyes off of where she’s dripping for him, watching as a bit of her slick trails down her thighs with how desperate she is.

Stepping up behind her, he swipes a finger over the skin of her thigh and collects some of her arousal before bringing it to his lips. Looking up into the mirror, he finds her eyes as he brings his finger to his mouth.

Moaning at the taste, he watches as YN squirms in discomfort as he pussy throbs at the sight. No more words are exchanged as Harry unbuttons his pants and takes his cock out before using his palm to clean up some of her arousal.

YN is confused for a moment, but it doesn’t last long at all as she watches him wrap his hand around his cock and start to stroke it with her stick.

He groans in pleasure as she whines at the sight, unsure how much more she can take. “Please fuck me. Swear I’ll be good, Daddy. Just please,” she begs, finding his eyes in the mirror.

“Mm, I don’t know, pet,” he tsks, stepping forward and moving the head of his cock through he swollen folds. “You haven’t been on your best behaviour today, so I’m not sure if you deserve it,” he hums in faux thoughtfulness.

She’s near tears at this point, just desperate to feel him deep inside of her and stretching her out. “I swear I do, I didn’t meant it,” her eyes are still boring into his. “I’ll be such a good girl, just-,” she’s immediately cut off with a gasp that melts into a moan, as Harry decided to push his cock into her in one quick thrust.

Her hands are gripping the counter tightly as he bottoms out, her jaw dropped as she hears him groan behind her. She’s so fucking full of him, feeling each ridge and vein of his cock grazing her sensitive walls.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Daddy,” she babbles, feeling the head of his cock pressed slightly against her cervix.

The slight pain has her head spinning, and he’s just pressed up against her as he lets her adjust. When she’s fully relaxed, she gives him a slight nod of permission to begin thrusting into her.

Harry wastes absolutely no time, pulling out until only the tip of him is resting inside of her before slamming back into her and burying himself to the hilt.

The force of the thrust sends her flying forward, a choked moan falling from her lips at the feeling. He repeats the action over and over, and she’s sure she’ll have bruises on her torso in the morning from how rough it is. But she wouldn’t change it, not at all. Especially not with the way he’s making her feel so good she can barely form a coherent sentence.

Cries and moans are accompanied by the sound of Harry’s hips hitting her ass with each thrust, giving everyone outside a mental image of exactly what’s going on behind the bathroom doors.

That thought doesn’t stop him, though. If anything, it gave him the motivation to keep up the pace, absolutely wrecking his wife. His fingers are digging into her hips as he pulls her back to meet each thrust as well as keeping her stable.

Removing one hand from her hip, he brings it down onto her backside harshly, listening to her cry out and feeling her clench around him. “Gonna cum?” he questions, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut and nods, ready to cum then and there.

Just as she’s about to fall over the edge, though, she feels her orgasm slipping away and she’s empty as Harry pulls out of her, stroking his cock furiously before sliding the tip back into her at the last moment and cumming inside her contracting walls with a throaty groan.

She whines in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the counter as she squeezes her shaking thighs together for some sort of stimulation.

She looks up at him questioningly, the sadness on her face almost making him feel bad. Almost. The remorse is quickly turned back into arousal as he sees his cum leaking from her and down her thighs a bit.

“Fuck,” he pants, tucking his cock back into his slacks. “I should make you sit out there in a puddle of my cum but I need you home so I can really take you,” he spits before spanking her ass once more.

She moans deeply at the sharp sting as he rubs the sore spot before pulling her panties back up. “Cmon, let’s get to the car,” he tells her, and she instantly obliges.

The two walk back out into the main area, ignoring the shocked looks of the other members as it’s very obvious what they were doing in the bathroom.

~

Once they’re back in the car, YN is still very angry at her mean husband, but at the same time she knows she deserved it for being a brat. She just didn’t think he’d deny her of an orgasm.

The radio is on in the car, and it’s the only sound they can hear beside the engine. YN’s arms are folded neatly in her lap as she tries to avoid more punishment, already knowing he’s angry.

“Pull y’panties down,” he demands suddenly, making YN look at him in shock before immediately doing what he requested as she takes in the firm look on his face. “Rub your clit a little. Just real soft and slow,” he tells her, eyeing her as she places one leg on the dashboard and passes him the panties.

She wastes absolutely no more time, bringing two fingers between her messy folds and then up to her swollen clit before rubbing slowly and softly, just as he’d told her to. The stimulation feels so good, and she squeezes her eyes shut and throws her head back against the seat as she tries not to speed her hand up.

“Would y’look at that,” he muses, basking in the sound of her breathy whines as he watches her tease herself. “Y’panties are all ruined, poor thing,” he smirks.

She cries out in frustration and pleasure as she circles her clit again, the slow torture only making her angry.

He hums in faux sympathy, looking over at her for a brief second. “Do y’need Daddy to take care of you?” he questions, smiling softly as she nods furiously. “Oh, Pet,” he tsks. “Should’ve thought about that, hm?” he continues. “Slap y’cunt five times. Hard. Then put your legs back down,” he finishes, making her groan at the demand.

She follows his orders immediately, the stinging pain of the slaps making her jump and cry out in pain. She doesn’t let up, though, finishing up the request before closing her legs tightly and fixing her dress once more.

Harry gives her a towel to clean his cum from her hand before they continue the drive in silence, YN anticipating what’s to come.

~

By the time they arrive at home, nervous isn’t the word to describe what YN is feeling, not in the slightest. She’s kind of shaky, but Harry places a warm hand on her thigh and calms her down, his gentle touch letting her know that there’s nothing to worry about. He will always take care of her.

Stepping out of the car with her panties in pocket, Harry walks around to the passenger door and helps her out, letting her go in front of him to punch in the code to get into their home.

He closes the door gently, taking his shoes off as she does the same. “You can take a seat on the couch, I’ll be back down after I take a shower,” he tells her before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. Yet another gesture to let her know he isn’t too angry anymore.

She nods and does as he says, just scrolling on her phone for a few minutes until she hears a knock on the front door. Confusion fills her, she’s not expecting anyone and she hopes Harry isn’t at a time like this.

Opening the door, YN is honestly saddened to see Niall, Harry’s best friend, on the other side of the door in some casual clothing.

Leaning down to give her a hug, he places a friendly kiss on YN’s forehead as she invites him in. He starts to slip his shoes from his feet, making YN frown and groan under her breath.

“Hey, YN. I hope you guys don’t mind I came over. My girlfriend and her friends are having a girls day so I’m gonna bother you two for a couple hours,” he tells her, making his way to the couch and sitting down exactly where YN had been sat just moments before.

“No, no! Don’t-“ YN tries to warn him, but he’s already sat there and getting comfortable, turning on the television in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “It’ll be like I’m not even here,” he finishes.

“Alright,” YN sighs, still standing near the couch. “Do you want a drink or something?” she questions, and he shakes his head.

“No, you just go about whatever you were doing. Thanks,” he smiles, turning back to the television.

“I fucking wish,” YN mutters, headed to the kitchen to get a drink. She rests at the counter with her elbows against it, completely forgetting about how she was pantiless and still dripping with her husband’s cum. Not long after, she feels a presence behind her, making her jump in fear.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Harry chuckles, making her relax. She takes in the scent of his body wash and shampoo, seeing his wet hair before noticing that he’s only dressed in a towel.

“Come upstairs with me. Gonna take care of you, okay?” he tells her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then repeating the action all the way up her neck, making her whine and squirm.

“We can’t, Niall is here,” she grumbles, and he gives her a look that shows he clearly doesn’t care.

“I know, I saw him come in on the doorbell camera,” he answers. “Just gonna have to be a little quieter than normal, can you handle that?” he asks her, laughing as she nods quickly.

Grabbing her hand, he pulls her with him as he quietly runs up the stairs and into their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

“On y’back. Need to eat your cunt before anything else,” he tells her, and she immediately scrambled to do so, desperate to feel him on her in any way she can.

He climbs on the bed after her and spreads her legs, eyeing her messy cunt before him. He’s rock hard by now, his cock throbbing and aching as he needs to be inside her again and feel her cum around his cock.

Lying down on his stomach, he wastes no time, diving in immediately and swiping his tongue through her dripping folds. Both of them groan at that, YN from the feeling and Harry from the taste of his cum on her.

He closes his eyes and works on her, not letting up for even a second as she pants heavily above him. He’s so hard that he subconsciously starts grinding into the duvet, chasing an orgasm as well.

The towel is still wrapped around his waist, the semi rough fibres grazing his sensitive cock perfectly with each push of his hips into the bedding. The feeling makes him groan against her, only pushing her closer to her orgasm.

“Please, can I cum?” she cries out quietly, reaching down and pushing his head tighter to her. He hums and tries his best to nod, giving her permission to finally cum.

She cums then and there, and it’s so hard she has to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head to bite down onto the pillow beneath her head. It’s all she can do to keep herself from screaming, her legs shaking around his head as she cums so hard there are stars behind her eyelids.

He keeps licking at her until she whines and pushes him away, making him sit up, panting. “Holy shit we taste so good together,” he mutters, causing her to let out a snort.

“We’re not done, though. Ready for me now?” he asks her, and she laughs in shock before nodding at him.

He quickly helps her to lie on her side, getting behind her and lifting her leg to be over his waist. It’s no secret that it’s her favourite position, allowing her to be close to him as well as feel him so deeply. And it’s his favourite just because it’s her favourite.

Grabbing his cock, he slides the head through her swollen folds for a few seconds before lining up with her hole and slowly sliding in, making her eyes roll back as she gets what she needs.

She lets out a loud moan when he bottoms out, making Harry quickly place his hand over her mouth. “Hush, Pet. Don’t want us to get caught with m,cock deep in you, do you?” he teases, groaning when she clenches down on him at his words. That makes him hum in realization, pulling out just to push his cock back into her before repeating the action over and over at a consistent pace.

Neither of them know that Niall has gone on a search for them, calling their names quietly as he explores the house. Stopping outside of the bedroom door, he hears the faint sound of clapping of some sort, making him stop and listen.

“I bet you want him to hear, hm?” he teases darkly, listening to her whines and moans as she accommodates him fully. “Want m’bestfriend to hear how much of a whore you are for me,” he finishes.

His words have her crying out in pleasure, and he squeezes his hand even tighter around her throat. She claws at his wrist as she struggles to breathe, but he knows she truly doesn’t want him to stop because she didn’t tap him three times.

“Shut the fuck up, ‘m not gonna stop fucking you until you soak my cock and I fill you up again,” he grits, ignoring the sound of Niall groaning in frustration.

The two hear a groan on the other side of their locked door, but he doesn’t let up on his bruising thrusts. “You guys are fucking disgusting, I’m just going to leave,” Niall calls as he makes his way back downstairs with a disgusted look on his face. “Fuck like rabbits, I swear,” he mutters before slamming their front door shut.

YN’s eyes are rolled back into her head, her hand clawing at Harry’s wrist even harder, warning him of her orgasm, knowing it’s going to be big. Leaning down, Harry bites down on her ear gently before pulling away. “I know, baby. Gonna cum again, hm?” he questions, although he already knows the answer.

She nods against the force of him furiously, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to hold off on her orgasm until he gives her permission. Opening her chapped lips, she manages to breathe out, “P-please,” she begs, her voice raspy. Leaning down once more, he presses some gentle kisses all over her neck before sucking on the spot gently.

Wanting to torture her a bit more, he smirks against her skin before he pulls away. “Please, what? What do you want?” he questions, loving the way she chokes and cries out in frustration, tears streaming down her face. “Tell me what you need, use your words, pet,” he hums, feeling her lock up around him once more.

After numerous attempts, and in between gasps for air, she can finally get it out as her lower body practically goes numb. “Please, let me cum,” she begs, feeling her stomach clench almost painfully.

Deciding to end his torment, he nods against her. “Yeah, pet. Cum for Daddy,” he rasps, nearing his orgasm as well. Immediately after he’s finished speaking, he feels her relax around him before locking down on him so tightly that he bites down on his bottom lip to hold back a scream of pleasure.

Her orgasm overloads almost all of his senses; he can hear, feel, and see her orgasm take over her body. The way her breath hitches in her throat and she lets out an almost animalistic groan fills his ears, her tight hole clenching down on him once more as he doesn’t stop his thrusts, the feeling of her orgasm soaking the both of their thighs making him look down as the clear liquid comes from her vagina.

All of those things combined send him over the edge with a silent scream, his face scrunched up as his orgasm is nearly painful with how tight his balls and stomach are.

His thrusts never cease, feeling her flutter around him as he fills her for the last time tonight as she relaxes fully, exhausted. He finally lets go of her throat as she starts to lose consciousness, rubbing up and down her body to ground her and cooing to her to let her know he’s there.

Not even removing himself from her still contracting hole, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as she comes down slowly. The two stay that way until he has completely softened inside of her and her breathing is no longer shaky and uneven.

Her eyes are still closed in exhaustion when he slowly pulls himself out of her, a small hiss leaving his lips at the temperature change. With another chaste kiss to the side of her face, he lets her know that he’s going to get a washcloth for her, knowing she doesn’t have the energy to move from the bed.

She responds with a tired hum, her eyes still closed. While away, Harry wets a washcloth with warm water before grabbing some relieving cream, and on the way back to his wife he grabs a pair of loose cotton panties for her to sleep in.

Making his way to her, he spreads her legs gingerly before wincing at how swollen she is, guilt filling him. He wipes gently, but obviously not gentle enough as she cries out softly in pain as he grazes her sensitive clit.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters, being way gentler as he finishes up. As soon as he’s done, he grabs some relieving cream and puts a bit on her before sliding some panties up her legs, rubbing her thighs when she whines slightly in discomfort. “I know, I know. You just need to sleep in them tonight and then you can breathe tomorrow,” he tells her, wiping some sweat from her forehead.

She nods weakly and snuggles into his hand, the warmth making her feel comfortable and even sleepier than she already was. Harry chuckles quietly before cleaning himself up quickly and taking the washcloth back into the bathroom before he pulls some boxers on.

He’s back at her side instantly, helping her weakened body out of the bed and across the hall to their guest bedroom, making sure he tells her what he’s doing to keep her grounded. The blankets are quickly pulled back before he helps her underneath them, and then he’s climbing under them himself, exhausted from his multiple orgasms as well.

No time is wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around her and looking down, only to see that she’s already asleep, her breathing quiet and even. With one last chuckle, he presses a kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes, drifting to sleep as well.

~

taglist

thank you so much for reading!!! your support means the world to me and i am open to any feedback!!! let me know what you thought🤍

[asaprora]

“normalize naming your children after the things you love”

“goodnight, chris wearing that one chain bracelet specifically in that one car video when he was wearing the black hoodie with the stars on it!”

“goodnight, matt in the mirror in that one tiktok with nick to the billie eilish song!”

“goodnight, that one picture of chris in the parking lot with the harley davidson jersey on!”

“goodnight, every single thing about nick!”

“goodnight, matt with road rage!”

“goodnight, chris with stubble!”

“goodnight, 2022 chris!”

“goodnight, matt when he’s looking up at the camera at top golf!”

“goodnight, matts pink ‘give me a kiss’ shirt!”

“goodnight, that one picture of matt leaning on the counter with the hoodie and jeans!”

“goodnight, chris’ jawline!”

“goodnight, vegas chris especially THOSE 4 pictures!”

“goodnight, that one video of matt getting his hair pushed back by chris!”

“goodnight, nick playing dress to impress!”

“goodnight, blonde nick!”

“goodnight, frat boy chris!”

“goodnight, summer 2023 matt!”

i could keep going.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Awkard…maybe not? (C. Sturniolo x reader)

𝑶𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓➬ 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

“𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛! 𝐼𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒!”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒙, 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒚, 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄, 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ^^, 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅” 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅”, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒐 𝑫𝑶𝑵’𝑻 𝒇𝒖̈𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔, 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒐𝒚

.𖤐☆彡.°

This just might be the most mortifying thing to ever happen to you in the history of your life ever.

The boys hadn’t stopped by in a while (they had a habit of sporadically popping up) and it was just you so, you figured you’d have some alone time with your favorite pink bullet.

After showering and making sure everything was nice and clean, you went to your room and got started. The mood came easy as your hands caressed all over your body, teasing your wet nub with one hand and lubing your bullet vibe with the other then inserting it up your…

The light stretch combined with the vibrations made you sigh in pleasure as you teased yourself more intensely. You felt good and everything was going great until you came and tried to take out the toy that you realized you couldn’t.

You couldn’t reach it.

Freezing in panic, your breath hitches and you swear your gonna have a stroke. You try another position and try to reach it but you still can’t. You try not to cry but tears bead in your eyes as frustration bubbles inside you. It so wasn’t fair. All you wanted to do was enjoy yourself but nooo your ass just couldn’t live.

At this point, all the sheer fear and indignation rises up your throat and you let out a horror movie worthy wail, screaming like a possessed woman.

But since your luck had been so great, the flurry of knocks and rings at your door stop you in your tracks.

Not now.

You could not handle a triplet tornado right now.

The noise at your door doesn’t stop so you throw on some pajama pants and a loose shirt to go open the door and realize on the way there that the buzzing from your vibe is audible.

Kill you now, actually.

Huffing and tossing your hair a bit, you open the door and instead of three, there’s only one.

Chris’s smile drops as he notices your face.

“Hey? I wanted to come hang n see if you wanted to mini golf with us later..but if now’s a bad tim-“ he’s speaking gently but you cut him off with a groan. No mini golf hate. “Chris, you couldn’t have just called me?” You whine and Chris throws his hands up in surrender. “Woahh, i did. You didn’t pick up.”

Well damnit.

You both get quiet and that’s when he hears it. The faint buzzing makes him furrow his brows as he looks down at you.

“What is that?”

The embarrassment makes your heart rate skyrocket as you flush before yanking him inside by his hoodie. Dragging him up to your room, you slam him against the door. Slapping your hand over his mouth you swear him to secrecy because you’d be damned if anyone, including his brothers, ever found out about this and if someone ever did, you’d know exactly who told them and you swear to Chris that you would never speak to him again.

Nodding furiously against your hand, he takes out his phone and shows you him turning it off and that’s when you let him go.

“W-what the fuck? No, what’s wrong?? And what’s with the buz-“

“I got my vibrator stuck up my ass!”

You wish you took a picture of his face as he registered your words.

“I BEG YOUR MOST GLORIOUS PARDON?!”

•

•

•

After explaining to Chris how it got stuck, he sat on your bed arguing with you about what the next steps should be.

If you weren’t humiliated before, explaining your masturbation session gone south with one of the hottest guys on the planet would certainly do it.

“It’s MY ass! It can stay where it wants!”

“But that makes no sense! If you won’t go to the hospital, then let me help!”

Pause. The visual alone buries you and you snap completely.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! Where is your SHAME?! I’m not letting you look, let alone dig around in there!” Chris rolls his eyes before standing up to match you.

“It’s fine! Just bend over and pull your pants down! It can’t stay stuck up there!”

Fuck he has a point. Taking in a shaky breath, you look down. Tears pool in your eyes because it couldn’t stay in and you were fucking terrified.

There’s a loud sigh before you feel hands cupping your face as Chris makes you look at him. His eyes make your heart stop in a way that contradicts the “friends” part of your relationship but you ignore it.

“Look, it’s embarrassing and I get it but don’t worry about that. I just wanna help, m’not judging you. Okay, kid?” Flushing, he’s rarely ever this soothing, you nod. “Yeah, okay,” pausing, you ask, “w-what do I do? So you can…?” This time, there’s a faint blush on Chris’s cheeks as he clears his throat and moves so you can go lie down.

“Right, well…pants off, all fours, not facing me.”

Taking a deep breath you follow his instructions and Chris feels like the air just got punched out of his chest. The arousal from before is still wet on your pussy and fuck it looks so pretty. He’s praying to god he can keep it down because he really can see everything as he kneels on the carpeted floor behind you, checking in. “Alright, talk to me. S’it okay if I start now?” He’s talking lower but the feel of his breath on your skin makes you shiver, the exposure has your head spinning as you nod.

“Yeah, go ahead..but just..,”

“Hmm?“

“C-can you see? Like…everything?” You sound so cute all shy that Chris almost coos at you.

“Yeah mamas..I can see…but you’re perfectly fine.”

Letting out a breath, you nod and wait for him.

“Okay, I’m gonna start so try to relax..” Chris says, smoothing his hands up the sides of your thighs. His palms are warm and you sigh absentmindedly at the pleasant feeling. His fingers move up to your hole and the wetness makes him swear internally as he asks again, “okay?” You whisper back, “okay”, then he’s slowly sliding in, and you gasp. Tightening instinctively as you feel them wiggle around. Your blush is down to your back as you hear him swear.

“Jesus, fuck- kid”, taking in a deep breath with you but for a different reason entirely, your tight and slick but he tries to remind himself that this shouldn’t be sexy. You’re his friend who he’s definitely never been attracted to, that he’s helping.

“Ch-chris..? Do you f-feel it?” His fingers are longer than yours but they’re not that deep which your grateful for.

Luckily he does, pressing it down near your bellybutton so it doesn’t get lost again, sliding it out as it vibrates his fingers.

“Yeah, hold on-“ he cuts himself off as a moan bursts out of you. Looking down, you’re dripping wet and he’s so hard his dick hurts. You apologize profusely because this was already awkward but you couldn’t help it. Chris slowly gets it out as it falls into his palm. He turns off the pink offense as you turn to look at him.

He’s still on his knees but that’s the least of the concerns. His eyes are blown and the blue makes them even more intense, still, you awkwardly thank him.

Nodding with a half grin, he gets up and that’s when you notice he’s hard. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the outline through his sweats before Chris clears his throat, making your eyes snap up to meet his. Chris drops the toy in your hand, “There. I believe that’s yours, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick so be back”, you barely nod before he’s gone as you process what the fuck just happened while you clean up and get new shorts on and throw your stupid toy out the window.

Meanwhile Chris is in your bathroom trying to will away his erection and not think about you as he washes his hands but it doesn’t work and he can still smell the strawberry flavored lube so he dries his hands and goes back to your room.

You’re in different shorts looking just as embarrassed as before, as he comes to sit next to you.

“Chris I-“

“Don’t worry about it Buzz, I won’t tell.” You scoff at the nickname while he chuckles, you shake your head.

“I was gonna say your dick is still hard but live your best life or whatever.” His mouth drops in an offended gasp and he fires back.

“I just found out your bad ass is an anal freak! Obviously I’m hard!”

Your eyebrow jumps in shock as you stare in disbelief before nodding with a shrug.

“That’s fair…”

It’s quiet for a minute as you two try to ignore what friendly things you don’t want to do with each other but you cave. “Well, since you helped me out…can I return the favor?” Chris drops his head back with a groan because you can’t say shit like that as he looks at you uncertainly.

“Only if you want t-“ you cut him off eagerly.

“Oh I one hundred percent want to just, y’know, you scratch my back I scratch yours...“

Nodding with a smile, Chris hurries and pulls you into his lap, kissing you on the lips.

“Well the funny thing about my back is….”

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

[juniperskye]

What are the chances?

Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summer…who’d have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman he’s been sexting.

Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader

Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5335

I have been writing this for weeks and I’m not sure about it – feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book you’d been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.

You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time you’ve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.

This on its own wasn’t what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since you’d downloaded the god forsaken app you’d received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.

Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.

“Alright Aaron let’s take another look at this profile” you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.

Scrolling through his pictures you couldn’t help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though he’d been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photo…this one left your mouth dry. He’d clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his arms…the way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldn’t deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.

I’m a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.

It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasn’t hiding that. It wasn’t something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, that’s why you’d become a teacher.

You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.

I’m a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, “I have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!”.

You’d thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, you’d give it some time and who knows, maybe he’d even message you first.

It had been an entire week since you’d swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. He’d kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages you’d received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.

A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasn’t sure how to start this conversation.

Y: Hi 😊 and no worries I get it. Online dating doesn’t exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.

A: Precisely. How are you?

Y: I’m doing good, tired. You?

A: I’m good, thank you.

A: I’m so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didn’t even factor in the time difference.

Y: Don’t apologize! I’m the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.

A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?

Y: Absolutely, I’m looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!

A: Goodnight.

You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.

Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldn’t help but smile.

A: Good morning

Y:  Good morning! How are you?

A: I’m well, glad to be going home. How are you?

Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?

Y: And I am good, thank you.

A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says you’re a teacher, that’s really incredible, how long have you been teaching?

Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.

Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it!  

A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that it’s becoming increasingly rare.

Y: What about you? I see you’re a federal agent, is that right?

A: Yeah, I am. It’s not as glamorous as it may sound.

Y: I would think it’s busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.

A: It is, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, he’s almost 8.

Y: That is a good age!

A: It really is, he’s coming into his own.

A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?

Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.

**One Month later**

The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you could’ve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he must’ve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.

Aaron and you hadn’t had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time you’ve been talking, he’d been out of town a total of three times. The first was when you’d matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.

Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. You’d talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldn’t share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that he’d been considering teaching classes at the local university.

Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that you’d both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesn’t call him away.

Naturally, work did call him away. He’d texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.

Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. We’re headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?

You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?

Aaron: Of course, I’ll talk to you later sweetheart.

You couldn’t help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadn’t used pet names or even discussed it…hell, you hadn’t really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasn’t happening.

In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadn’t talked to any other men, which meant you hadn’t been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. You’d thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.

It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaron’s contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.

Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?

You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?

Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.

This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to go…would he invite you in given the chance?

You: I’d love it if you were here. I’m just lying in bed.

Aaron: You are?

You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.

Aaron: I’ve been thinking about you too.

You: Yeah? How so?

Aaron: Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.

You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldn’t do that. I’d also really love for you to continue…I really need to know what you’ve been thinking about.

Aaron: God sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.

Aaron: I’d love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.

You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.

Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.

The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.

You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.

Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until it’s off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.

You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.

You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I can’t wait to feel your touch, Aaron.

Aaron: And I can’t wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.

Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.

You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.

Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.

As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.

You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.

Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.

You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.

You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.

Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.

You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.

Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.

Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.

You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.

Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.

You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.

You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.

Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.

Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.

Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.

Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.

You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.

Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.

You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.

He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didn’t have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.

When you weren’t at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldn’t be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood.  

Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms you’d ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man you’ve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.

Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.

VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.

Aaron’s voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off – this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.

“Hotchner.” Aaron said.

“Hey baby!” You greeted.

“Oh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?”

“I did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?”

“Well Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, I’m not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.” Aaron explained.

“First of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmer’s market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?” You questioned.

“Perfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.”

“Tomorrow won’t be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?” You asked, hopeful.

“You are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!”

With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.

The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.

It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.

Which leads you to right now…

Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning. 

You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their child’s multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. You’d recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.

“Hi” it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.

“Hi, I had no idea you were Jack’s teacher. The email I got must’ve been your last name…” Aaron tried to explain.

“No, don’t worry about it, we hadn’t exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.” You’d just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.

Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.

As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isn’t here with some other woman.

You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented – all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.

“Mr. Hotchner” You signaled him to ask his question.

“Yes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kids’ specials?”

“That’s a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.” You explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing, thank you!” Aaron smiled at you again.

You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaron’s smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn.  

You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.

There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didn’t have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didn’t know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He started.

“Sooo, should we just ignore the fact that I’ve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I don’t want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly don’t want to come between you and your girlfriend.” You huffed.

“Woah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we haven’t discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured we’d go on our date before labeling anything. I don’t want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.” Aaron reached for your hand gently.

“Aaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. I’m not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to Jack!” You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.

“Oh my god. No, that’s Jess, Jack’s aunt. I thought I told you about her. It’s Jack’s mom’s sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.” He reaches for you again.

This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.

“I’m so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!”

“Sweetheart it is okay! I can’t even imagine how it must’ve looked.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“I can’t believe you are actually here right now.” You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.

Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.

“You know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?” Aaron suggested.

“Really?” You looked to him for confirmation.

Aaron replied with a subtle “mhmm” to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.

You should have known you wouldn’t even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.

The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one another’s clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.

He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I don’t want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.” Aaron expressed.

“Aaron I want this, all of this with you.” You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.

With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaron’s hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You can’t help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.

Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.

Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.

He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.

Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.

[respectthepetty]

I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

[drysdalesworld]

completely serious

jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader

ik the third pic is him wearing a ducks jersey but there’s nothing really of him in flyers gear that fit what i was looking for, so let’s just pretend <3

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and more

y/n.hughes: to a new era baby! hope philly treats you well 🧡🧡 (please take care of him flyers or i will violently cry)

tagged: jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: i too will violently cry

lhughes_06: so this is where you took your impromptu trip to

y/n.hughes: & what about it

userone: still can’t believe it tbh 😭

yourbestie: she very much will! philadelphiaflyers

yourroommate: she cried upon hearing the news

philadelphiaflyers: we will take great care of jamie! do not worry 🧡

philadelphiaflyers: we will make sure to water him daily & make sure he gets enough sunlight 🫡

usertwo: stopp!! the way they are describing him as a house plant 😂 i cant

mfrost16: we’ll take him out on walks too!

userthree: now he’s a dog 😭😭

userfour: i mean he did bark his first game with the flyers userthree

jackhughes: i will not be picking up the pieces if she starts to violently sob

lhughes_06: you never do

_quinnhughes: i do that

_quinnhughes: when have you ever done that bro

jackhughes: i feel attacked rn

userfive: the way the flyers flew BOTH y/n & jamie’s parents out for his first game 😭😭 warms my heart

usersix: they did?

userfive: yep! during his post game interview, someone asked if the flyers flew anyone else out for jamie & he said that he wouldn’t play if they didn’t fly y/n out as well! (jokingly of course)

usersix: that’s so freaking cute 😖

jamie.drysdale: i was completely serious userfive

philadelphiaflyers: he, in fact, was completely serious userfive

userseven: UGH GOALS 💞💞

usereight: they’ll treat him well y/n!

jamie.drysdale: i’ll miss you so much love 🤍 i’ll have the flyers fly you out whenever (& if not, then i will)

y/n.hughes: i’ll miss you more!! im so so proud of you & can’t wait to see the amazing things you’ll accomplish in philly ❤️❤️

philadelphiaflyers: y/n’s apart of the team already! we’ll fly her out whenever you want jim! just say the word ✈️✈️

y/n.hughes just posted!

liked by luca.fantilli, masonmctavish23, and more

y/n.hughes: jamie photo dump during these trying & sad times

tagged: jamie.drysdale

( loading comments ! )

trevorzegras: the fifth picture is evil y/n. why you got to do my boy like that? (please send it to me asap)

y/n.hughes: check your messages babes 😚

trevorzegras: bless girl hughes 🙏🙏

userone: another shoe tying pic!!!

lhughes_06: uhhh, why am i not tagged in the sixth pic?? i so graciously taught your bf how to wake board & this is the thanks i get??

y/n.hughes: thank you so much luke for teaching my boyfriend how to wake board & almost kill him in the process 😑

lhughes_06: i am an amazing teacher! he did not almost die

jackhughes: dude, you almost broke his nose when you both went down after YOU jumped on him

lhughes_06: i do not recall such a thing

jamie.drysdale: i will let the fifth picture slide just this once bc i miss & love you so much 🥰 (also, almost died in the last pic 💀)

jackhughes: SEE!! lhughes_06

lhughes_06: 🎶 i cant see i’m blinnndddd🎶👨‍🦯

y/n.hughes: love & miss you more 🤍🫶🏼

_quinnhughes: the lake house that summer will forever be burned into my brain

usertwo: in a good way? 😀

userthree: THE FUCKING ‘I ❤️ MY GIRLFRIEND’ TSHIRT 😫😫😫😫😫

yourroommate: i specifically remember the first pic like it was yesterday

userfour: babes spill! what happened!!

yourroommate: y/n was not having a good week so jamie flew out for the weekend & showed up with flowers & wearing that exact shirt userfour

yourbestie: he said, and i quote, “i saw this shirt on tiktok & though you’d like it” & y/n proceeded to cry :) userfour yourroommate

y/n.hughes: why am i and my bf being exposed in this comment thread?? 🙃

userfive: WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE GOLF PIC 😫😫

y/n.hughes just posted to their story!

caption: from #6 to #9, here’s to new beginnings! jamie.drysdale

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey. 

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead. 

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person. 

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you. 

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much. 

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that. 

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one. 

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first. 

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

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

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards. 

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave. 

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway. 

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back. 

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you. 

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long. 

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes. 

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times. 

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could. 

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

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

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him. 

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day. 

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing. 

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night. 

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again. 

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped. 

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far. 

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend. 

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier." 

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter. 

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top. 

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you? 

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider. 

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing. 

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him. 

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco. 

"Of course I do," she whispered. 

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't. 

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do. 

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried. 

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him. 

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

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was. 

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately. 

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave." 

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed. 

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey. 

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month. 

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave. 

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic. 

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug. 

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real. 

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect. 

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you. 

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table. 

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb. 

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea." 

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight. 

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house. 

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

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

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[graysnetwork]

omg

You've had the best night ever, you went on a great dinner date with your boyfriend of one year; Keegan, the food was amazing and the service was great, and the events afterwords— even better.

You two went back to your apartment since it was closer, and since Keegan was barely able to wait to get your place. Usually it was his place, you had a whole dresser he had bought for you for the case of you spending the night and needing to put on different clothes for the next morning.

He had been spending the entire night thrusting his cock into your hole, and gosh did he enjoy last night.

Now the sun peaked through curtains and the sunshine absolutely blinded you, he on the other hand had his face stuffed into the pillows which blocked out all the rays of sunshine. His back looked great; red scratch marks, a few scars here and there, and his muscles.. gosh his muscles.

But the funny thing about the picture was what he was laying in, pink pillows, a white comforter, a soft pink throw blanket, and several stuffed animals; all types of them too: a build a bear he got you with his own voice in the little bear, squishmallows he also bought you, and now your childhood stuffed animals you were placing around his body.

See the only reason they were on the floor was because you had said “oh my gosh my little stuffys are gonna see me and my boyfriend-” before he cut you off with a slow kiss and he covered your little bears eyes before pulling down those black panties down.

And then all of the stuffys ended up on the floor for the rest of the eventful night.

You placed the last one next to his bicep very carefully and went on to put a oversized shirt on and go to the kitchen to eat something.

You were sure this was the best sleep he’s had since he was a baby.

—

“hey baby” Keegan mutters as kisses the top of your head as he places his hands on your hips and his lips only continue to move down and kiss your cheek, neck and shoulder. “hey, did you sleep well?” you smiled as you turned your head and looked up at him “well? that was the best sleep i’ve gotten in ages..” he kissed you on the lips this time and really savored the moment.

“we should do this more often, just less stuffed animals next time i wake up..” he muttered as his nose brushed against yours and he leaned down again to kiss you once more.

“maybe, but your lucky to have been surrounded by those guys” you say as you pulled away briefly and turned around fully, and he slowly but firmly pushed you against the island. “guys? you’ve been sleeping with other guys?” he kissed you again. “i should go and give them a good.. stern talking” he muttered again as he once again (guess it) he kissed you.

He lifted you up and placed you on the counter, his hands found their way under that big shirt and they roamed freely over your soft skin. “maybe not, maybe i’ll just make them watch me fuck you?” he whispered as he smiled at your pink cheeks you unknowingly were getting.

“you’re disgusting, those stuffys eyes would be scared” you whispered back and frowned at him “well i guess i do appreciate that they’re not real guys” “yeah you should appreciate that”

“yeah, yeah, let’s just get to it already, this conversation is so boring it makes me want to play golf” his little remark on golf made you chuckle as you caressed his cheek “we doin it here or the bed again?” he asked and with the way he was staring at you, you didn’t know if he would even make it to the bedroom.

[sturnskiss]

florida!!! ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: bsf!rafe cameron x reader

summary: reader’s boyfriend cheats on her so rafe plans to make her forget all about him by taking her to florida.

warnings: no smut, not much, rafe laces someone’s cocaine with fent, protective rafe, i don’t really know 😊

authors note: FIRST RAFE POST!! i know ive only ever posted for sturniolo tumblr but id like to preface my account isn’t solely for them, and i will be posting content for other fandoms as well!

love left me like this, i don’t want to exist so take me to florida

when naive!kook!reader and her boyfriend, a good-for-nothing fuck boy, one to a worse degree than her best friend rafe was, broke up… rafe was more than happy to finally step in.

it was as simple as that rafe couldn’t let that man sleep peacefully knowing that he broke his poor best friend’s heart.

when you showed up at tannyhill, your big doe eyes all teary eyed and smeared mascara running down your cute cheeks, rafe already knew it had something to do with that little boyfriend of yours.

secretly, he had been waiting for this exact moment. he had been waiting ever since you told him that one of the boys he plays golf with asked you on a date. you were just too sweet for him. for any of these boys on the island. no, you needed someone who could really protect you and make you feel feminine and comfortable, something these boys couldn’t do except for him. he knew you better than anyone and had much more to give you than everyone else, but being the naive girl you are, you didn’t see past the friendship.

“aw, baby.” he frowned before embracing you in a tight hug. you wrapped your arms around his neck, silently crying into his arms.

your voice broke, “he cheated on me,”

rafe’s jaw clenched, but he wasn’t surprised. not one bit. “ ‘m so sorry.”

he didn’t ever directly warn you about boys like him. he couldn’t ruin the happiness you had when that guy started showing interest in you.

this wasn’t even supposed to happen, actually. you weren’t aware of this, but rafe may or may not have told every guy who ever expressed interest in you to fuck off. a simple hands-off rule. he’d threaten them, say that if they so much as talk to you, they’d wish they didn’t. only one person dared to test that rule. he started flirting with you and commenting on your instagram pictures. rafe solved that problem quickly and easily by lacing his next bag of coke with a little bit of fentanyl. he didn’t die. it taught him a lesson. taught mostly every boy on the island a lesson, except for your now ex-boyfriend.

so he couldn’t put fentanyl in this fucker’s coke this time because the boy never mentioned you to him. they played golf regularly, never speaking of you. and then one day, rafe picks you up from your house to take you shopping and you excitedly tell him how one of his friends followed you on instagram and asked to take you out. that guy knew what he was doing.

he maneuvered the hands-off rule because he knew rafe would never let it happen.

after a few minutes of consoling you, rafe broke the silence. “y’wanna go to florida?”

you stopped crying, pulled away from the hug and peered up at him. “what?”

he grinned, “i’m serious. let’s go to florida, yeah?”

you shook your head, “that won’t fix anything, rafe.”

truth be told, rafe believes money can in fact buy happiness. and he’d spend every last dime in his pocket if it meant you forgot all about that stupid boy and became happy, especially if it meant you were happy with him.

“it’ll be fun. lemme show you a good time, promise you’ll forget all about him. it would be good for ya to at least get out of the obx.”

“why florida?” you asked, sniffling and wiping a tear. rafe lifted up his shirt, revealing his lower toned abdomen, and wiped your mascara off your face, wiping your nose too. something only dad’s do for their young daughters, and rafe too, you guess.

he shrugs, “why not? we gotta place there. nice place right on the miami coast. just a change of scenery, s’all.”

so the next day, rafe pulled into your house’s driveway. you stood by the front door, a suitcase next to you. rafe smiled as he got out of his car, “only one suitcase?”

“you think i need more?” you asked in a surprised tone.

he shrugged, “i just planned a couple things snd you might need more than a couple outfits for ‘em. s’all good though, we can buy you some more when we get there.” he said while grabbing your pink suitcase effortlessly and placing it in the backseat of his car.

you were completely unaware of rafe’s true intentions by this out of the blue trip to florida. you didn’t think anything of the sweet things rafe did for you. he was your best friend, and he looks out for you. he just cares for you, like any friend would.

once you arrived in florida, being taken there by the cameron’s private plane, the first thing you did was get a fancy facial from a very luxurious med spa. one sarah went to anytime their family visited florida, which is why rafe knew of the place. he paid for you to get the longest, most expensive, and best treatment there was.

afterwards, you guys went out to dinner at a small restaurant on a dock.

you thought he was just being sweet.

you thought he was just being sweet when he bought everything you laid your eyes on in small boutiques and even large luxury stores like chanel and tiffany.

and rafe’s plan worked. by the first four days, your ex’s name never came out of your mouth. the only name on your lips was rafe, and his next plan was to keep it that way.

all that’s left to do was convince you there was someone better for you out there. and that someone was him. you didn’t see it yet, but you would by the end of the trip. he would make you his.

[thenickgirl]

First Date HeadCanons

bf!nick x male!reader

requested by: nonnie 🎀

disclaimer: this is all fictional and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: short, not proofread, fluffy

a/n: saurrr sorry this is kinda short, but i literally have the worst block rn. don’t fight me guys, i’ll do better 😭

Nick on a First Date:

♡ despite him being a little nervous, he’d be so excited for your date, literally never shutting up about.

♡ he would have it all planned out to the T, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect.

♡ since he can’t drive, he’ll uber to your place and pick you up.

♡ i can’t see him showing up to your house with flowers, but i wont put it past him.

“umm…i got you these..”

♡ he would take you somewhere fun where he can get to know and have good time, maybe mini golf or or carnival or something of that nature.

♡ if he takes you to a carnival, he’ll grab your hand and drag you along to different game booths, trying to win the biggest plushie for you.

“nick, it’s okay really, you don’t have to…”

“noo, i wanna win this for you”

♡ if you’re at mini golf, he’ll get behind you, teaching you how to hold your club, showing you how to hit the ball, and even though you’ve played before you’ll pretend you haven’t because it’s so cute how concentrated he is about teaching you.

♡ he’s a big spoiler as well so whatever you see that you like he’s buying it for sure.

♡ he would be so giddy, blushing most of the time maybe stumbling his words.

♡ even with him being a little nervous, he would still tease you, making jokes here and there. he just loves hearing you laugh.

♡ he’ll hold your hand while you’re walking around, and if it’s chilly he’ll give you his jacket when you get cold.

♡ he would be flooding you with compliments the whole night

“you look amazing, by the way”

“i love that shirt on you”

“you’re so fucking cute”

♡ there would be lots of pictures. he’ll take so many of you and of you two together, and you would take a few of him as well.

“we actually look so cute together”

“yeah, we do. stick with me, kid”

“oh shut uppp”

♡ he would be staring at you the whole night, and when you catch him he’ll blush and look away.

♡ before the night ends, he’ll steal a kiss, taking your breath away.

“i’ve been wanting to do that all night”

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @freshloveforthefit @guccifrog @luverboychris @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @matty-bear @moonk1ss3d @ghostking4m @nicksmainbitch @orangelala

[emeraldenha]

TAKE A SWING!

pairing: sporty bf!jaehyun x gn!reader | genre: established relationship, fluff | wc: +1.3k words | warnings: just jaehyun being cheesy

“Soccer?”

“No.”

“Basketball?”

“Nope.”

“Football?”

“Haven’t played it a day in my life.”

“What about golf?” Jaehyun attempts once again, turning his head to look your way as the two of you take an afternoon stroll through his neighborhood park.

Unable to return home for the holidays this year, your lovely boyfriend, Jaehyun, was ecstatic to use it as an opportunity to invite you to his hometown over break. And besides the stressful meet-the-parents dinner that awaited you the first night of your arrival, it’s all been smooth sailing from there as Jaehyun avidly showed you all his favorite places from his childhood. It’s a rush of both old and new memories overlapping simultaneously that you’re somehow able to sense despite not experiencing the former, but Jaehyun knows just how to paint the perfect picture for your mind to envision his little stories from photo album to reality.

Earlier during your walk to the park, you passed by some kids playing a seemingly competitive game of basketball on the basketball court and it washed Jaehyun with a wave of nostalgia, prompting him to reminisce on his flourishing sports life growing up.

Now, he was trying to get you to play a sport with him. Any sport. He was desperate for you to know how to play anything, badgering you with a list from off the top of his head.

“Yes, if mini golfing counts,” you answer with a chuckle, mindlessly swaying your intertwined hands back and forth. “I’ve only gone once though.”

It’s almost as if Jaehyun perfectly times stepping out into the sunlight after having walked through the shade casted by a line of towering trees, the glow on his face you can feel from him internally as much as externally.

“Perfect! Then we should go mini golfing for our next date,” he cutely declares, letting go of your hand for a second to bring you into a suffocating bear hug. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“You’re so dramatic!” you whine, but secretly, you love this side of him. When he loosens his grip on your waist, you’re greeted with his giddy, contagious smile. “You’re acting like I don’t already go out with you to games and stuff.”

His lips transform his blinding smile into a playful pout. “But you always make me explain what’s going on. Every. Single. Time.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it when I do that. You always have this sort of golden flex in your eyes when you get to talk about the things you’re passionate about.”

He then goes from a pout to a smirk.

“What was that you said? A golden flex in my eyes?”

The next day, he talks your ear off about how excited he is all morning from the moment he wakes you up to get ready up until you’re in the passenger seat of his car. He’s definitely dressed in his golf attire for the occasion too—collared pollo shirt tucked into khaki pants in all their glory.

“Are you sure you want to drive?” you ask while buckling your seatbelt, frankly a little concerned.

You were the more comfortable one with driving in the relationship and that was a well-known fact. His car was practically your car. You even drove the entire road trip to his parent’s house, no prior discussion or agreement required.

“I can do it!” Jaehyun insists, starting the engine and carefully pulling out into the street. Not too long after, he almost swerves out of the lane he was in while trying to avoid a bird flying across the windshield. You don’t understand why he was so taken aback when it’s not like the car was going fast enough to hit the bird anyways.

“It still baffles me you have a license. Was the examiner watching you while half asleep? We’re going the speed of a turtle right now,” you tease, leaning your head back against the headrest as the music from Jaehyun’s playlist only adds to the rather calm atmosphere.

Suddenly, the car speeds up causing your body to lunge forward.

“Jae, you can’t just do that either! You have to ease into it!”

You would have smacked his arm if you weren’t so petrified that it’d cause the both of you to crash.

Amused by your reaction, his laugher rings through the air as you keep your eyes peeled on the road for the remainder of the drive.

When you get to the mini golf course and start playing, you learn that you feel like a loser standing next to Jaehyun for two reasons. One, your previous mini golfing experience was essentially good for nothing. Two, because of reason number one, Jaehyun was going easy on you and was still winning by a mile.

“I suck,” you complain like a child, as much as you hate to admit.

“Come on, you’re not half bad,” he attempts to convince you, but you don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth.

He had to say that. He’s your boyfriend, and he’s too kind. You could wack the golf ball all the way into the parking lot somehow and he’d still try to say you weren’t ‘half bad.’

“Says the guy who’s barely even trying. How do you make it look so easy?”

Grabbing your wrist to drag you to the next course without a word, he meticulously adjusts your stance, making you feel like your limbs were being possessed by a mannequin.

“Myung Jaehyun,” you warn, though it can only be followed by empty threats. You can already sense what he’s about to do, your heartbeat picking up its pace, because even though close proximity is an obviously familiar concept between the two of you, it still gets you each and every time.

Circling him arms around you from behind and drawing you into his back, his hands rest over yours on the golf club as he swings, nearly achieving a hole-in-one. You’re secretly glad that’s not the case though so he can hold onto you a little longer, but unfortunately, the ball makes it in by the next shot. You still cheer as if you had done all the heavy lifting, feigning an unaffectedness for his touch and choosing to tease him instead.

“Pulling that move? You’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“But you like my cheesiness!” he retorts, cheekily stealing a kiss on your forehead.

A flurry of laughs erupt from both your throats as you feel a buzz through your jean pocket. You take a step away from Jaehyun for a moment to check your messages while he’s filling out the scorecard for you.

“What are you on your phone for?” He asks once he notices, and while a normal and innocent question, you notice the slump in his shoulders and his big puppy dog eyes all in a quick glance.

He wants your attention.

“Nothing. It’s Sungho. He’s just asking me how to do something,” you say and promise it won’t take long in order to console him, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth as you draft a response to your mutual friend.

You only make it halfway through what you’re trying to say before you feel a weight on your shoulder. Jaehyun’s head has found its way there as the tip of his nose tickles the side of your neck.

“I love Sungho and everything, but can we worry about him later?” he mumbles into your skin, face probably flushed red if you were to guess. He continues, “I wanted to come here to spend time with you. No interruptions. Just for today, please.”

‘I can’t say no to him, can I?’ you think, the temptation to cave in hitting you quickly.

Rushing to finish whatever sentence you were on, you press send and write a quick follow up text to Sungho that you’ll get back to him later before shutting your phone off.

“I’m all yours,” you say, craning your head until your noses are touching. You press a lingering kiss to his lips and the blissful feeling is enough to erase the world around you. “For today, tomorrow, and every day after that, I’ll be yours.”

“My cheesiness is starting to rub off on you.”

You only shrug. “I don’t know, I think you were right. I do kind of like it after all.”

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permanent taglist: @icysungho