#how to measure curtains

[hallowclave]

What a whimsical looking young man I wonder if he has received any job offers recently

Original photo

[sapphireshorelines]

One problem is that American directors, with a handful of exceptions, are not much interested in style; they are at heart didactic. Ask what they plan to do with their absolute freedom, with their chance to make a personal statement, and they will pick an “issue,” a “problem.” The “issues” they pick are generally no longer real issues, if indeed they ever were—but I think it a mistake to attribute this to any calculated venality, to any conscious playing it safe.

Joan Didion, I Can’t Get That Monster out of My Mind, from "Slouching Towards Bethlehem"

[hyunpic]

my dad was so cute today. i was whining to him about how i don’t have good enough curtains in my apartment that block the light from outside and i can’t sleep because of it and he spent like an hour just researching different curtains online and then said to me that we can go buy me some tomorrow 😭

[abyssruler]

arguments and odd positions

lyney x gn!reader

you knew lyney was a magician, but opening your fridge only to see him inside instead of your recently bought groceries is taking it a little too far. or — you refuse to talk to lyney after an argument, which leads to lyney putting himself in various odd positions in order to get you to speak to him.

comedy-ish, just lyney being weird and lynette being his accomplice

Lyney’s not one to let you stew in your anger after an argument. He’s persistent in getting you to speak with him to try and resolve the issue, which leads to a few… ridiculous and frankly odd situations he puts himself in just so he can talk to you.

An hour after you rushed off after a heated argument, you open your door only to find a little note stamped on it with the words I’m sorry :( written in a loopy handwriting. A bit creepy that he sneaked into your bedroom without your notice, but while the note makes you soften a bit, you’re still angry with him.

Which then leads to more… drastic measures. The likes of which Lyney has to force Lynette to help him with.

Two hours after your argument, you’re opening your fridge, only to lurch away and bite back a scream of surprise when you see Lyney standing inside your fridge.

“I’m sorry—” he starts, but you’re quick to close the door on him.

It escalates after that.

Everywhere you go, Lyney is right there.

In the middle of watering the plants in your backyard, you shift a few leaves from a bush and come face to face with none other than Lyney. He smiles sheepishly at you, a few twigs stuck in his hair. You don’t know how he managed to hide himself in that bush, but instead of acknowledging him, you spray him with water and leave.

You’re in the middle of cooking when you open your cupboard and see Lyney crouched inside the small space (how did he even fit in there?) He gives you a little wave which you ignore as you close the cupboard on him.

It goes on like that for a while. You turning around and seeing Lyney in bizarre positions that make you question how he even managed to end up in the first place.

You check in on your aquarium to feed your fish, only to see Lyney inside the aquarium. You open a book to read, but Lyney’s face is printed on every page. You try reading the newspaper, but the headlines are filled with nothing but Lyney’s name and why you should forgive him. You play a song, but Lyney’s voice echoes instead of the opera singer’s. You open your closet to change clothes, and Lyney is inside the cramped space wearing your clothes.

He’s everywhere.

You shift the curtains open, and Lyney. Is. Right. There.

You swear the windows had been firmly shut, and there hadn’t even been the slightest outline to tell that a person was hiding behind the curtains.

“Darling, please—”

You swish the curtains close on him and stomp your way to the bedroom. You make sure to lock the door, double checking the windows to prevent any chances of Lyney sneaking in.

When you’re sure that not even the hydro archon can break into your room, you sink down on your bed, exhaustion settling in as you turn your head over this bizarre day.

Lyney was persistent, yes, but never to this degree. He showered you with all sorts of compliments and bent over backwards so you can always have your way. In hindsight, the fact that you’ve never once argued before should have been a hint that Lyney has always been careful to make sure you’re happy—too careful, at that. It makes sense, you think, that he’s so desperate to make peace with you now that you’ve had your first argument.

Still, despite how odd his actions were, it was a little touching to see how far he’d go just to apologize to you. Maybe tomorrow you’ll finally acknowledge his existence.

You shift, turning to the other side of your bed—

And Lyney is right there, laying on his side and watching you with a smile on his lips.

You feel your anger and resolve crumble in the face of that smile. And really, it’s been a long day. Staying angry isn’t going to do anyone any good.

He opens his mouth, but you interrupt him with an exasperated sigh, shuffling forward and snuggling your head in the crook of his neck.

“I forgive you,” you murmur.

You feel him circle his arms around you, letting out a happy little sigh of contentment as he buried his face on top of your head, pressing a kiss that sends a spark right down your spine. He’s dressed in a soft shirt and cotton shorts made for sleeping, clearly having expected to sleep here beside you. Sneaky. You’ll get him back for the near heart attacks today, but for now, you’ll settle for basking in the warmth he radiates, letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

And you think that’s the end of it, that the two of you will drift off to sleep in each others’ embrace, but then—

“Lynette, tell Freminet to cancel the fireworks show! Plan Y version two is no longer needed!”

[rileyslibrary]

This or That

A/N: It’s been a while since I made Ghost flustered. Fluff. Self-indulgent. (Render by @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot)

———————————————————————

“Movies or series?” You ask.

“Movies.” He replies instantly.

“Why?”

He shifts his gaze from the scope of his sniper rifle and looks at you.

“You said the game is called this or that,” he states with a low voice. “You didn’t mention anything about me having to justify my choices.”

“Just curious.” You reply, shrugging.

He turns his attention back to the scope and shuts one eye. “Because you finish them within two, maybe three hours max.” He explains.

“Efficient, even in your leisure time, eh Lt.?”

He clicks his tongue. You wait for him to ask you back, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s too focused to bother.

“Well, I prefer-”

“Series.” He interrupts you. “I know.”

“How?”

“I know you binge-watch them late at night.”

“How do you kn-”

“And then struggle to stay awake the next morning.”

You widen your eyes and inhale through gritted teeth. “That obvious, huh?”

He chuckles and murmurs a ‘mhm’ while looking at the distant building.

A message pops up on your laptop’s screen. Kate.

“Laswell says your target is on his way; she’ll let us know when he’s getting closer,” you inform him. “Vanilla or strawberry ice cream?”

“Neither.” He replies sternly. “Boring flavours.”

“Touché.” You agree, tilting your head to the side and shrugging one of your shoulders.

He lets out another chuckle, this time shorter and readjusts his grip on the trigger.

“Any other movement in the area?” He asks, making a subtle head nod towards your laptop.

“Negative, sir,” you reply. “Drone feed is clear.”

“Good; give me another,” he orders.

“Alright,” you say and clear your throat. “Soap or Price?”

He rapidly shakes his head and turns to look at you. “What in the world is that question?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“If you had to spend a day with either of them, not on a mission,” you explain. “Would you prefer it to be with Soap or with Price?”

He rolls his eyes and exhales slowly. “Price,” he finally mutters.

“What about Gaz or Price?”

“Price.”

“Me or-”

“Price.”

“Why?”

“For the same fucking reason I said Price the first two times,” he replies, annoyed, and resumes his surveillance through the scope.

You both fall quiet. You absently fiddle with the straps of your tactical vest, monitoring the drone’s feed on the laptop in front of you.

“What about yourself?” He asks, breaking the silence. “Soap or Price?”

“You.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“That is my answer.” You murmur, shrugging.

You catch him out of the corner of your eye as he slowly turns to look at you. You don’t dare to meet his gaze. You feel your cheeks burning; you must be as red as a beet now. You reach for a strand of your hair, untucking it from behind your ear and letting it fall to the side of your face, using it as a curtain to hide your embarrassment. You inch closer to the laptop, but he follows your every move.

“Target spotted four kilometres away,” you state, hoping to divert his attention. “We have approximately fifteen minutes.”

“Fuck,” he swears and punches the roof you are both perched on. He shuts both eyes, lowers his head, and takes a few deep breaths.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, urgently. “Everything alright?”

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?” He murmurs and checks his watch.

“Lt, target’s not supposed to be here for the next fifteen min-”

“You shouldn’t be doing that.” He states and taps the digital screen.

“Do what?” You ask puzzled.

“Playing games while we have a target to eliminate,” he snaps and shakes his wrist.

You peek at the watch; he’s measuring his heart rate.

“How much?” You ask.

“145 beats per minute,” he replies as he takes a few more deep breaths to refocus. “Now cut the games, and let’s finish the job.”

———————————————————————

[mokulule]

A Man has Needs part 1

This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.

Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.

Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.

It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.

Bed. Now.

He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.

He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.

Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.

The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.

Tomorrow…

He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.

Sleep.

Oo o oO

Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.

Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.

He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. 

Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.

He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.

He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.

There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!

Wait.

Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!

There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!

Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.

No!

What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.

Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.

Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.

It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.

Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.

At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.

So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.

No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.

Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.

Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.

He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.

Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.

Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.

The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.

So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.

But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.

Shit.

New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.

This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.

Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.

It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.

Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?

Oo o oO

Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:

This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.

He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.

This was very much not his apartment.

There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.

Shit.

He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.

Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?

He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.

His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.

“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”

There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?

What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”

The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.

“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. 

Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.

But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.

A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.

Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?

Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.

“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”

Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”

Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.

Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.

Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-

Oh-

The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.

Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.

The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.

When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”

It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.

The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”

Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?

What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?

Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.

He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.

Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?

He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.

-

If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip.

[oepionie]

— "PUFFS AND RUFFLES" malleus draconia

SYNOPSIS: On your birthday, Lilia hands you a black dress claiming that you should wear it for your date with Malleus later. He fails to mention how it's a traditional wedding dress in Briar Valley. Oops...?

Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

Tags: Drabble! Fluff, Established relationship, Reader wears dress, Mentions of marriage, Lilia third wheel era, Kissing and making out, Not proofread!

A/N: My last fic before I dip and go study for midterms lolz

WordCount: 600+ | 💌Masterlist

"Lilia?" You peered through the curtains, calling the old bat over. Lilia gave you a quick glance before sneaking into the dressing room with you, keeping an eye out the corridor to make sure no one was watching.

With a click, the door closed, and Lilia turned to face you. He gazed at you fondly, a smile spreading across his face.

The dress he gave you fit perfectly on your figure. When you walked, the long skirt with its ruffled edges trailed behind you, its puffy sleeves draping across and towards your chest exposing your neck. Atop it, a necklace proudly sat, it's vivid green gem gleaming against the sunlight.

That was Malleus' courtship present to you years ago, as Lilia had recognized it. You were such a funny little thing back then. You had misinterpreted it as a birthday present, not realizing its actual significance in dragon culture. It took months of miscommunication and Malleus' sulking before you finally realized what it truly was.

"Are you sure I should wear this? Would Malleus really like it?" You fumbled with your hands, staring down at your outfit. Lilia gifted you the dress as a birthday gift and it was beautiful—almost as if it emanated some sort of mystical glow. Now you weren't sure how he managed to get your precise measurements, but you chalked it up to magic.

"Would he 'like' it? My dear, of course he would! " Lilia beamed, raising his finger and twirling it around, signaling you to spin for him.

You did as asked, twirling slowly. The flowy black skirt of the dress swirled around you like petals dancing around a flower bud, it looked almost weightless as it delicately floated up the air. When Lillia enthusiastically applauded for you, you grinned, stretched out your arms, and spun around the room.

While tapping your bare feet on the chilly marble flooring, you burst out laughing.

"Lilia? Have you seen the pre-" Gasping, you whipped your head around to face the door, the skirt of your dress pooling around you. Malleus stood by the entrance, jaw slack as he shamelessly stared at you. Embarassed, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The last thing you wanted Malleus to see was you dancing around the room like a little kid.

'Oh sevens, you looked so precious.' Malleus snapped out of it and marched towards you, a giddy smile growing across his face.

Thump Thump Thump.

His heart pounded in his chest as he took notice of the necklace clasped around your neck. The dress had already sent him into frenzy but paired with the necklace, it was overkill for him.

"You look beautiful." He whispered, cupping your face in his hands.

His hands trailed over your shoulders and arms before landing on your hips. Your head spun, face flushing as he pulled you closer, your shaking hands finding recluse on his chest. Malleus chuckled and drew you into a slow sensual kiss, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your waist.

While Malleus showered you with affection, Lilia awkwardly stood in the middle of the room. Becoming the third wheel was definitely not part of his plan.

Clearing his throat, Lilia raised an eyebrow at the dragon. Malleus huffed and drew away from you but still kept a hand placed on the small of your back. He turned his attention back to you, examining the dress once more.

"How interesting…" he muttered softly, trailing off. "I'm quite surprised you managed to find a wedding dress in that style."

"Wedding dress…?" You froze, letting Malleus' words sink in.

"Khee hee-Ah that's right! I forgot to tell you, that dress is a traditional dress used for weddings in Briar Valley." Lilia mused, walking over to you and pinching the fabric between his fingertips. "A bit old fashioned but they look like such a dear don't they?"

Malleus gazed at you fondly, clasping your hands tightly in his own. As he fixed his attention on you, his eyes appeared to be gleaming.

"Truly."

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

[pupkashi]

shopping at ikea w satoru would be so unimaginably fun and silly …

i can already picture him having way too much fun in the showrooms, sitting on a sofa and asking you to pass the remote, smiling when you grab him by the sleeve, apologizing to the family who were looking at the coffee table he had his feet on.

the two of you would spend way too much time in the living room area, deciding on what pieces you’d put where, staring at each other when you realized neither of you took any measurements prior to leaving home.

he’s posing in the showers, covering himself in the curtain and gasping when you look at him, “where’s the privacy in my own home?!”

he absolutely loves asking you which kitchen you’d pick, noting all your different answers and taking pictures of the things you would say you liked.

satoru would try and lay on every bed, whispering to you that the bedframe would break within hours of being constructed, making your eyes widen as you smack his chest, trying to ignore the flips your stomach was doing.

he’d try and talk you into buying everything, especially the things he was convinced he needed.

“sweetheart look! aren’t these mugs so nice? i think we should take them” already placing a pack in the cart, you immediately place them back on the shelf.

“satoru we have more than enough mugs, we had to give some to shoko because we had nowhere to put them!” he knows your right, but even so he pouts at you a bit, looking at you with wide eyes and you sigh. he’s got you.

you don’t say anything as you grab the same pack and put it in the cart silently, ignoring satoru was he giggles behind you.

he would definitely buy one of the plushies they sell, immediately falling in love with how absolutely floppy they look (he comes home with three).

the two of you stop and get some swedish meatballs before going into the actual shopping part, finally getting everything and then some, walking out with a full cart that you never intended to fill.

you realize on crucial thing as you and satoru place the items in the living room, looking around for where to put newly acquired trinkets.

satoru turns to you, and you turn to him, both of you blinking twice before smiling and speaking at the same time;

“we forgot the fucking shelves”

a/n: just another silly head canon drabble ,, i hope u guys like it !! please lmk what you guys think :3

masterlist

[ellecdc]

can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something

and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new

and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them

hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)

Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan

CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+

This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.

But Barty never fought his urges.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 

Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.

“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.

Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.

“What?” Barty asked simply.

“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.

You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 

You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.

What?

It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.

“We always sit like this.” You replied.

Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”

Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 

You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.

“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.

Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”

“Exactly!” 

“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”

“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”

“Absolutely.”

“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”

“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”

“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”

“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”

“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”

“Check.”

“- communication,”

“Check.”

“Familiarity,”

“Duh.”

“Confidence.”

“Obviously.”

“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.

“I agree!” He responded. 

You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).

“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 

No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.

It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.

You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.

But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 

You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.

You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.

“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.

You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.

You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.

“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.

“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.

“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.

“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.

Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.

“Yeah.”

You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.

“Then fuck me.”

And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.

If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 

“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.

“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.

His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.

“I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He ordered.

“I’ll be good.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Who are you going to be good for?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.

“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”

And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.

Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 

“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.

You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.

“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”

His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.

Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.

“Close. How about we try…”

And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 

“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”

“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.

He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.

“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”

You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.

He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.

“What is it, princess? Hm?”

“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.

But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.

You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.

“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”

Never.

“Never.”

He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 

“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”

And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.

“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”

“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”

And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.

The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 

His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.

In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.

You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.

“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 

“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.

You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 

“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.

As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.

“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 

“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”

After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 

“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.

“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.

“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.

“This is new.” You insisted severely.

“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.

What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.

[perpetualfox]

Rough Night - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader [Light NSFW]

Warnings: Manhandling

Wordcount: 1231

So my laptop died last week (hence the sudden and unexpected break from writing). I used this as an excuse to relearn how to type on a new keyboard.

→The creak of your bedroom door swinging open was what woke you in the end.

→You hadn’t heard the key turning in the lock, or the soft click the front door had made as it was pressed shut again. You’d slept on, blissfully unaware of the faint metallic rattling that echoed in the entryway as the lock was checked, rechecked, and checked again—a borderline-ritualistic habit that long pre-dated you; a pro-programmed quirk you’d learned to bend a little piece of your life around.

→The heavy thump of a full duffle bag against tiled floor did not disturb you. Not even the muted whisper of thickly treaded boots prowling through the carpeted halls had roused you. You hadn’t heard him coming. Of course you hadn’t—you never did unless he wanted you to.

→How many nights had you woken to find a looming presence at the edge of your bed, a calloused hand brushing the ridge of your cheekbone? How many times had you gone to bed alone, and blinked awake in the morning sunshine breathless and sweating beneath the molten press of his body—shocked to find him back in the country, let alone curled up in your bed?

→You only heard him coming when he wanted you to.

→He could have opened the door silently and slid beneath the covers, curling his scarred body around yours without ever waking you, as he had done a hundred times before. But he hadn’t. You only heard him coming when he wanted you to. He’d let the door creak, and now you were awake…or at least trying to be.

→A sleep-roughened sound pushed its way up through your dry throat as you rolled over to face the door. The light in the hallway was out, but in the dim glow of the streetlamp that filtered in through your curtains, you could just make out the vague shape of a man in the doorway—a hulking shadow filling out the space, silent and unmoving.

→It would have been frightening had it not been so intimately familiar: the slope of his shoulders where you so often rested your head; the thick trunk of his waist around which you could just barely lock your legs; the manner in which he carried himself—a coil tightly wound, ready and able in equal measure to take a life or bend you over the nearest flat surface at the drop of a hat.

→You would have known him anywhere.

→A sleepy smile slid across your face, “Hey, you.”

→Floating in that pleasant expanse between the waking world and your dreaming, you awaited the response he always gave: a gruff, but affectionate, ‘Hey, yourself,’ but it didn’t come. The shape in the hall remained silent and still—almost frighteningly so. There was something nearly inhuman about the way he loomed—in that moment almost more a spectre than a man.

→Your smile dropped and you sat up, kicking back the covers and rubbing your eyes in a desperate bid to drag yourself further into a conscious state.

→Something was wrong.

→“S-Simon? What is it—did something happen?”

→A terrible, all-encompassing stillness settled over the room. Your heart drummed against your ribcage as you awaited his answer, the pounding echoing loud in your ears. It came in the form of a nod, quick and curt—a soldier’s response. The movement was barely perceptible in the darkness, yet it made your stomach drop all the same. You threw back the covers, trying to disentangle your legs from the sheets, desperate to go to him, to make right whatever wrong as done. But before you had the chance, the figure in the doorway exploded into motion: he surged into the room, kicking at the door with his heel as he passed, slamming it shut with a heavy BANG.

→You could feel the burning weight of his eyes on you as he came, a deadly shadow sliding across the floor, soundless even in his big boots. And he was fast. Before you could so much as flinch, he was upon you. The mattress dipped, groaning beneath him as his weight settled upon it.

→He grabbed for you; strong hands still clothed in his rough gloves—the skeleton fingers so white in the darkness—clamped hard around your waist. He gripped you so tightly, your flesh stinging as it puckered beneath the tips of his fingers.

→“What’s wro—hah!” A strangled cry tore free from your throat as his already bruising grip tightened further, the corded muscles in his arms flexing as he forced you onto your stomach, tossing you down as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

→“Uh-uh. Don’t wanna talk about that.”

→His hands slid down to your thighs, the rough texture of the rubber grip-pads on his palms chafing a burning trail against your soft flesh. He forced your thighs apart, spreading them wide in order to slot himself between them. Your spine bowed inward, and your hip joints ached with the sudden stretch. A low growl filled your ears, a buzzy sort of sound that for a moment you could not place. But as the man leaned down, pinning you against the mattress with the weight of his chest, you realized he was laughing—you could feel it.

→“Don’t struggle.” His voice was a whisper, hissed out on the barest exhalation of breath, low and dangerous, “It’ll only delay the inevitable.”

→You swallowed hard, “And…that is?”

→“Getting what I want.”

→His hips pressed forward, and at once it was obvious just what that meant. You could feel the thick length of his cock as it fetched up between your legs. The hard press of it against your inner thigh alone was nearly enough to make you dizzy. The heat of his body radiated into you even through his cargos and the thin cotton of your sleep shorts. He pressed forward, grinding against you with short, quick strokes of his hips, tearing a ragged gasp from your throat. Your mind still felt sluggish, hazy and slow with the kiss of sleep, “O-Oh!”

→“Oh.” His voice rumbled through you, a heady vibration that rattled your ribs.

→You pushed back against him, your blood humming in your veins with the promise of what he was going to do to you, “S-Simon…” Your voice sounded strange to your own ears, breathy and tight in a way you might have found embarrassing had you been more in control of your faculties.

→The rough edge of his mask caressed your cheek as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. You hadn’t realized he was still wearing it, “Mmm, Simon’s not here right now, Lovie.”

→His hand snaked up to grip your throat as he rutted himself against you. A rare desperation had him in its grip, his restrained and stoic demeanour peeling up around the edges, curling back to make way for a very different creature indeed. His hips pressed forward, unerring and relentless, rocking your body up toward the headboard inch by inch. It was as though he thought he could push himself inside of you like this; that if he pushed hard enough, he could burry himself to the hilt and fuck you through your clothes.

→When he spoke, his voice was rough, a growl that sat just at the edge of your hearing, “Guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body. 

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider. 

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.” 

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed. 

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---” 

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy. 

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water. 

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.” 

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”

[roosterforme]

The Intern Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had an easy way about him that you appreciated. Working for him all summer sounded promising, and you were determined to make it fun for both of you. But as you dipped your toes into getting to know one another on the flights from San Diego to Lisbon, you ended up closer to him than you ought to be, both conversationally and physically.

Warnings: Language, brief mention of drugs (eventually 18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

"I still can't believe someone is paying me fifty thousand dollars to spend my summer on a yacht," you mused as the private Cessna jet gained altitude over the California desert landscape. 

Bradley turned and looked at you from his plush leather seat across the narrow aisle and smirked. "You needed the money that badly?"

"Don't play games," you told him, and he laughed. "My point is, I would have done this for free just to get Ted off my back."

His fingers tightened a bit on his armrest, knuckles growing white as he closed his eyes and said, "Now you tell me. My department budget could be looking a lot fatter right now if it wasn't for you."

You could feel the airplane leveling out as the flight attendant, a woman named Melissa, stood and made her way back toward the two of you. "Oh please," you groaned, earning one of those grins from him that made you feel light inside. "I know how much the shareholders make, Mr. Bradshaw. It's not like it's not listed on the Nasdaq Composite if you dig deep enough."

"Can I get anything for either of you?" Melissa asked. 

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, please. Hold the cherries," you replied while Bradley just shook his head in a jerky motion.

When Melissa disappeared behind the black curtain, you asked, "Why are you so tense? Have a drink and relax."

He huffed out a laugh. "It's eight in the morning. A drink is not going to help me."

You leaned a little closer, and his gaze definitely dipped down to your unzipped sweatshirt. "Don't tell me you're into something harder?" you asked, already thinking you'd be disappointed by his answer. You'd been there and done that. Hung out with and dated guys who were users, and it was not something you wanted to be around. Even out of your sorority sisters, there were only a handful who weren't high all week during grad school.

Bradley looked at you with alarm. "I'm absolutely not going to allow drugs on the yacht, Ivy League."

"Good," you replied right away, already feeling more at ease as Melissa dropped off your cocktail. "Thank you."

But she was looking at Bradley now as she said, "Please let me know if I can get you... anything."

He waved her off as you took a sip of your mediocre cocktail. Melissa had gone a little heavy handed with the bitters, probably because she was too focused on your hot boss to measure things correctly. "Take a sip," you told him, reaching across the aisle with your glass. "You look like you need it."

He grunted and accepted the drink, and a few seconds later, he had downed the whole thing. "Thanks," he whispered. "I hate this part of traveling to Europe for Avio. The flights are going to take forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took back your empty glass while he white knuckled the armrest again. "You were an aviator, Mr. Bradshaw."

When he looked at you again, his cheeks were a little flushed as he softly said, "You don't have to call me that. Bradley is fine." 

"Bradley," you said with a smile, and his face softened a little bit. "Why don't you like the Cessna? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also hoping for something at least a little more luxurious from Avio, but it's not that bad."

He shook his head at you, something you were pretty sure you were just going to have to get used to for the summer. But his mustache twitched as he licked his lips and said, "Maybe chartered flights are normal for you, Ivy League, but I got used to being the pilot. Of something much less comfortable than a Cessna Hemisphere. So this just feels inherently wrong to me. I mean, I just drank a cocktail."

"Inhaled," you corrected. "And technically it was my cocktail," you said, waving to Melissa and holding up the glass and two fingers.

"Semantics," he grunted. "I miss my Super Hornet right now. Not only were there no drinks, there wasn't even a bathroom."

You watched Melissa duck behind the curtain again, probably to forget how to make a cocktail again. "Well, we'll be there soon," you told Bradley.

"I doubt these pilots can do Mach 2, so not fast enough for me."

You sighed, knowing this would probably be a lot easier for him if you could get him to drink a second Old Fashioned, but when Melissa dropped two more of them off, they were both garnished with a cherry. "I asked you to hold the cherries."

"Oh, yes. Sorry," Melissa muttered. "I can remove it for you."

"I'm allergic, so I'll actually need you to remake mine," you replied, and Bradley started to hand his back as well.

"Remake hers, and mine too," he grunted, suddenly looking far less nervous about the flight as he made to stand up. "Fresh glasses and everything. I don't want cherries anywhere near her." You looked up at him in surprise as he kind of rolled his eyes and followed Melissa. "I'll make sure she does it right," he whispered, and you watched him walk up to the curtain, as confident as he usually was.

"Thanks," you replied, even though nobody was there to hear you now. Well, he had promised he'd do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable. You watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you pressed your lips together. That blue Oxford shirt was the exact best color he could possibly wear, and you wondered if he knew it or if it was an accident that he chose it.

When he met your eyes, you didn't look away. You didn't really care if he knew you were checking him out. Until you did. Because when he walked back with two new drinks, you realized how little you knew about him. "Here," he grunted, voice deep and raspy. Then he clinked his glass to yours before sinking back into the aisle seat opposite yours again and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

"Thanks for doing that."

He smiled at you. "Can't lose my intern on her first day. Especially since I've never had one before."

You perked up, loving that you'd cornered the market. "I'm your first intern?"

"Yeah." He was back to downing his drink and looking miserable now, practically throwing the empty glass aside in favor of gripping the armrest. Abandoning your drink after one sip, you stood and stepped over his outstretched legs, his eyes following your every move as you eased yourself down into the window seat next to him. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little amused now that you were just inches away from him.

"I am, but you're not," you told him with an air of authority. "Just relax," you added as you took his hand from the armrest and held it in both of yours. His brown eyes went a little wider, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Probably question what you were doing. But you said, "You'll feel better in a few minutes," as you worked your thumbs along the pressure points in his big, rough palm. And then he closed his eyes and without a word, he leaned back in his seat with his hand cradled in yours. Soon he was sound asleep.

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

Bradley woke up to an almost pleasant humming sound all around him. His hand was warm and wrapped up in something soft, and when he opened his eyes, your face was just a few inches from his as you slept. His body thrummed with something akin to desire as you pursed your haughty lips in your sleep, long lashes grazing your perfect cheeks. 

Shit. His hand was resting on your body, fingers tangled up with yours and wrapped in your designer hoodie. His knuckles were pressed to the soft skin which was exposed between your high waisted pants and your damn sports bra. And based on the way the plane was started to descend, he'd taken a five fucking hour nap all cuddled up with his intern. With Ted's goddamn daughter.

Hands off. He'd been telling himself to keep his hands off of you, and just a few hours in, he was literally doing the exact opposite. But you'd been sweet to him, carefully massaging the pressure points in his hand until he was able to fall asleep. You must have drifted off then, too. And now he was loath to remove his hand from your body or look away from you.

He needed another fucking drink. Or several. He leaned carefully over you, and sure enough, he could see the New York skyline coming into view through the small window. And he could smell your perfume. And that was when you opened your eyes, immediately sitting up a few inches and nearly bumping noses with him.

"Sorry," he grunted. "I was just trying to see where we were."

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice soft and a little rough from sleep. Jesus, he liked the way that sounded. 

"Almost to New York. Want me to ask the pilot to circle back to Philly so you can wave to your alma mater?"

You laughed and sat up a little more, arching your back, but you didn't immediately let go of him. "No, thank you. I've only been gone for a week, so I'm sure the City of Brotherly Love is enjoying this break."

Bradley found himself continually laughing at your words, but now you were looking at his hand all linked with yours, so he started to pull his free. You didn't stop him, and when you looked up at him, you even asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

He nodded his head once. "I did. Thank you. For making me feel better."

You sat up the rest of the way and stretched, and he had to look away as you said, "A good intern is good at everything."

Your words weren't dirty, so why the hell were his thoughts? He should be trying to find out more about your father, not imagining you wearing a fluffy white bathrobe while you drank an Old Fashioned sans cherry next to his bed. He was miles away in his mind when the plane touched down on the runway before taxiing to the refueling spot. His stomach was growling wildly now as Melissa walked back and offered them a very late lunch. 

"I didn't want to interrupt anything," she said, looking between you and Bradley like the two of you had been all over each other. When she turned away to get the salads and sandwiches ready, you climbed over him to use the bathroom, and Bradley watched you ignore a phone call as you went. He also realized that he'd have to tread very carefully around potential clients over the next few weeks. It was one thing for Melissa to make a comment like that, but it would be something entirely different if a line like that got back to Ted.

While the plane was refueled and the pilots switched places for the longer flight from New York to Portugal, you and he ate in companionable silence. You'd returned to your seat across the aisle, and you ignored another call before tucking your phone away in your bag. Bradley also used this time to drink a gin and tonic in the hopes he'd be able to sleep again, slightly afraid you wouldn't join him on his side of the aisle to make him feel cozy again. 

"We'll be taking off again in five minutes," Melissa informed him as she cleared away the meal and brought pillows and blankets. Your phone was out again now, and you ignored yet another call as Bradley shook his head.

"Are you going to keep me up at all hours of the night on the yacht yelling at your little boyfriend on the phone?"

You scoffed and looked right at him as you said, "I don't date little boys. Are you going to keep me up calling your wife and kids back in San Diego?"

He didn't want to laugh at the way you talked to him and kept him on his toes. He also registered that the way you'd let him hold your hand while he slept had only come from a platonic place if you were just now asking if he was married. "I don't have a wife or kids."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning on your armrest with your tits smashed together. "You could be married. If you wanted. You're tall and you have all your hair."

"Are those the only prerequisites?" he asked, trying not to look anywhere other than at your face. God, your little bikinis were going to be the absolute death of him if he didn't get fucking laid soon.

"No," you replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, too. Handsome. Tons of money. And you seem nice. Good manners. You make me laugh. Seems like someone would have snapped you up off the market by now."

His cheeks felt warm again as he tried to figure out how to answer. You'd just complimented him nine different ways, and he was reeling a bit. "Because I was in the Navy. Nobody in their right mind would trust a Navy guy with that level of commitment."

"Why not?"

"They lie and they cheat," he said, repeating the lines women had been telling him since he was twenty two. "Nobody you'd want to settle down with."

But you didn't look convinced as your smile tilted a little higher on one side. "Are you a cheater?"

He knew somehow he wouldn't get away with speaking anything but the plain truth to you from here on out. "No."

"I didn't think so." You looked satisfied as you settled back in your seat, about to snuggle under your blanket. The sky was a little darker now, and there was nothing below except for the Atlantic Ocean. 

He had a slight buzz from the gin, and he felt a lot better than he had earlier this morning. He reached for his bag and pulled out his laptop before crooking his finger and coaxing you back to the seat next to him. "We have a little work to do, Ivy League."

While he expected you to complain, you didn't. Rather you popped out of your seat with your pillow and blanket, climbed over him and settled in the window seat once more. "What is it?" you asked eagerly, and when he logged in to his email account, he saw something from Ted right away. Just a reminder to keep himself on track.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about the Avio software we will be marketing, so by the time we land in Lisbon, you'll know as much as I do."

You curled up with your pillow and blanket and looked at him, your words doing more to him than you probably intended. "Don't test me, Sir, or I may end up knowing more than you."

"You're a brat."

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

This time when you woke up, it wasn't to Bradley's touch or his brown eyes. This time it was to Melissa's laughter and Bradley's soft voice. "When are you flying back to the states?" she asked him as you cracked your eyes open. 

"Not any time soon," he replied smoothly. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Well I hope I'm on your flight back," she said flirtatiously as you propped your head up. 

But Bradley wasn't paying attention to her now as he turned your way. "You're up," he mused, and you just nodded, wishing you'd had time to shower or check how you looked before he saw you. "We'll be landing soon. And then we'll get you and your designer luggage to the yacht."

You watched Melissa roll her eyes at you before she stood. "I'll be right back with coffee and some breakfast."

"Hold the cherries! Please!" you reminded her, just to be obnoxious. When she pretended she didn't hear you, Bradley chuckled. "You know, it's kind of refreshing being given an attitude. Is this how you feel when I give you one?"

His eyes went a little wider. "Don't make me call your father."

"I thought you valued your intern," you replied with a smirk. "So don't make me spread that nasty little rumor around Avio that you went to the University of Bumblefuck."

"Virginia," he snorted.

"Whatever."

Melissa dropped off mugs, a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and pastries. "No cherry," she said blandly as you reached for a blueberry muffin. 

"Much appreciated," you replied as you peeled back the wrapper and took a nibble while Bradley ate an apple danish in two bites before he poured coffee into both mugs. Clearly the two of you were hungry. You also had no idea what time it was. You had to put your phone on silent since your dad wouldn't stop calling you, even though you told him you'd talk to him when you got on the yacht.

"How do you take your coffee?" Bradley asked as you silently chewed. You went to reach for the creamer, but he pulled it away and looked at you. 

You swallowed down your muffin and said, "Cream and sugar, but you don't have to do it. I should probably be doing it for both of us."

He shrugged and got your coffee fixed up exactly the way you would have made it yourself, as he said, "You and I will be working in close proximity, and I feel like this is the kind of detail I should know."

"Well how do you take your coffee?" you asked, but he set down the cream and sugar without adding anything to his. "Black, no sugar."

"Black, no sugar," he confirmed before taking a sip. You watched the alluring scars on his neck as he swallowed, once again surprised that he wasn't married. He didn't seem as helpless as your father, but he seemed like the kind of person who should have someone warm at home when he returned from work each night. Someone to look after him. 

You took a sip of your own coffee and smiled, because it really was perfect, especially for something that was made on an aircraft. "Thank you."

"Any time," he responded, and you eased back in your seat and looked out the window as the Portuguese coastline came into view. You drank your coffee and picked at the muffin, watching as the very early morning sun made the Atlantic Ocean glitter. There were marinas filled with yachts and sailboats, and you wondered if Avio's was amongst them. 

"Were you on the yacht with my dad last year?" you mused as the plane dipped lower in the sky.

Bradley set his mug down, and maybe it was just you, but his features suddenly seemed a little guarded. You'd always been good at reading people, which made it easy to get a favorable response when you needed one. But he'd never looked at you this way before. "For a few days. One of my buddies from the Navy was there too. Jake Seresin."

You blinked and his expression was neutral again. "The name sounds familiar."

Bradley laughed as the plane touched down. "The face will be familiar, too. Soon enough. He's champing at the bit to get onboard for a few days here and there this summer."

You set your mug down as well and said, "Don't worry, Sir. I'll dazzle him to bits during the dinner parties."

Bradley's nostrils flared, and his pupils grew wider. "I don't doubt that."

When you laughed, he smiled before looking down at his hands. "Well, Bradley, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get on the yacht. I wonder what kind of caviar the chef will serve for lunch."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, prompting him to do the same. "There are different kinds of caviar?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he picked up your tote and handed it to you. 

"Don't embarrass me, Bradley. The other interns will all laugh at me behind my back."

But he just shook his head as he moved to the side and said, "After you, Ivy League." So you led the way to the front of the aircraft, thanked both pilots and Melissa, even though she clearly didn't like you, and you climbed down the stairs onto the warm tarmac. 

You shouldn't and absolutely couldn't keep reacting to Bradley the way you were, but when he placed his hand on your lower back and said, "This way," you nearly moaned. You looked up at him as he tried to guide you toward the waiting limousine. "Go climb in. I'll grab the bags."

"I can get my own bags," you insisted.

"I know you can, but you have nine hundred of them, and I'm still hungry, and I can do it faster."

"Fine," you replied, and you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked toward the driver who was holding the back door open for you. "Thank you." As you slid across the leather seat, you watched Bradley effortlessly lift multiple pieces of your luggage at the same time while you bit your lip. What the hell was it about him? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but he was enjoyable to watch. His voice made you feel a little fuzzy. He was raw and genuine like your favorite pair of well worn Levi's which were tucked away in your Dior suitcase he was carrying with one massive hand. 

You looked away. You counted to ten. You already knew this was going to be an issue, so you weren't sure why it was hitting you now. When you glanced his way again, he was bringing his own two, nondescript pieces of luggage to the limousine trunk, and then he was sliding across the seat next to you.

"Twenty minutes to the marina from here," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on the seat next to your thigh. "And then we can get to work."

You pursed your lips. "I was under the impression we would be playing, too."

He chuckled as you started to look through the compartments next to the seat. "We can play a little bit."

You opened what turned out to be an ice chest, and ran your fingers along a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon. "We can start with this," you said, pulling it free from the ice and holding it up.

He was looking at you, not the bottle, but that little twitch of his mustache was his tell. Even though his eyes seemed stern, he held out his hand, and asked, "Think we can finish it in twenty minutes?" 

You smiled brilliantly as you handed it to him. "Don't ever ask me that again."

"Sassy," he muttered, unwrapping the foil and slowly twisting the cage loose before wiggling the cork free with his big hands until it popped. "Here you go."

"No," you insisted as the driver pulled out onto the main road. "You first. Drink to a successful summer."

Bradley nodded once and took a sip before handing you the bottle. His eyes were on your lips as you pressed them to the bottle where his had just been. "To a successful summer," he echoed, his voice a deep rumble as the city went by in a blur. You couldn't stop smiling, and neither could he, and approximately eighteen minutes later, when he helped you out of the limousine, his cheeks were flushed pink.

"Is that it?" you asked, very slowly removing your hand from his as two men rushed your way in matching gray shorts and navy polos. There was a massive yacht with Down to Business lettered across the back and Avio Technologies along the side.  

"That's it," Bradley confirmed, slipping his black sunglasses on as he reached to shake hands with the two men who introduced themselves as Antonio and Nikolai. Bradley told them your name, and they both took your hand in turn. "She's my intern for the summer," he said smoothly, and then they started to unload your luggage. 

"Let's go," you said, glancing back at Bradley as you started down toward the marina gate, and then he was right next to you again with a few long strides. "I hope you can find your Armani swim shorts quickly, because that pool is calling my name." 

"I can, actually. One of the benefits to only bringing two suitcases." He helped you over the gap, and as soon as you were on the yacht, you felt at home. You knew this was going to be the summer you needed.

"Let's go meet the captain," he murmured, his hand finding your back again. 

"Do you think he has more champagne?"

"Ivy... it's nine in the morning."

"I'm still on San Diego time."

Bradley paused for a beat while he did the math. "It's one in the morning back home."

"Exactly," you told him with a little pout that you knew wouldn't actually faze him. He just smiled as he guided you past the pool you couldn't wait to jump into and an enormous jacuzzi. You walked through a dining room that could seat twelve people and past a fully stocked bar. It was like the best offerings from your sorority house and your dad's estate all rolled into one.

"Welcome aboard!" boomed a voice with a French accent. "We've been expecting you. I'm Captain Marcell." He was probably in his sixties with gray hair and a matching beard, and he reminded you a bit of your favorite professor at UPenn.

"Pleasure," you replied, shaking his hand after Bradley told him your name.

Next to him were lined up two friendly looking women, one with short brown hair and one with long brown hair. Beatriz and Lucia, the stewardesses, would be taking care of everything you needed. And next to them was an attractive man wearing a bit of a scowl. 

"I'm Rocco. The chef. I can make anything. I don't like changing the menu at the last minute."

Oh, you liked him already as you shook his hand. And then your heart fluttered as Bradley said, "I need to speak with you about removing any cherries from the yacht before we leave the marina." 

"Cherries?" Rocco asked, scowling deeper.

Bradley glanced at you as he removed his sunglasses, and his mustache twitched. "Yes. Can't have any onboard. That applies to the kitchen and the bars. My intern has an allergy."

"I'll take care of it," Rocco replied before turning away, and you'd never been more certain that someone would take care of something in your life. Then Captain Marcell handed Bradley a folder.

"Rough itinerary. Weather report for the week. List of phone numbers. Please let me know how long you'd like to spend in each port. I can of course adjust anything as needed. Now if you will select your cabins, Antonio and Nikolai will deliver your luggage."

"Thank you," Bradley replied, handing the folder to you. "You're in charge of this. Now why don't we head down so you can choose a room?" He nodded his head toward a wide set of stairs.

You walked down to the lower deck, and once you and he were alone again, he pointed to the left. "The sooner we get settled, the sooner the swim trunks come out?" you asked softly. 

"Something like that." His soft chuckle was right behind you as you stopped at a mint green door with gold trim.

"Is this my room?" you asked, placing your hand on the doorknob. There was a little keypad next to it. 

"If you want it to be," he replied. "Or, there are three others you can choose from."

"Which one are you taking?"

His eyes flitted from your face to a spot a little further down the hallway. "White door."

When you turned to investigate, you saw a pink door directly across from that one. "Wouldn't it be easier if my room was near yours?"

"Probably." His expression was neutral, but that damn mustache was giving him away. 

"I'll take the pink one."

"Very good. I'll get the room codes from Beatriz, and I'll tell them where to deliver the luggage."

"Great," you replied, still standing close to him, but he didn't move.

"Perfect," he said, brown eyes focused on yours. The hallway was narrow, and now he was placing his hands on his trim hips, taking up even more space. "Try not to get into too much trouble while you look around."

Finally he turned toward the stairs, but you called his name right away. "Bradley?" He glanced back over his shoulder with a questioning look. "Thanks for mentioning the cherries."

"Sure," he replied easily. "I got you, Ivy." Then he was walking back up the stairs and out of sight.

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

We are about to set sail. Let's get into a little trouble. Let's have a little fun. Already feeling a little tension between Bradley and Ivy League. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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The Danger Zone (Part 16) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 5.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Lots of Fluff; Some Crying; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: After Jake's promotion, you take some new steps in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

“Ready to go?” Jake asked you, walking into the bathroom as you wiped off your makeup. 

The two of you returned to your apartment after his promotion ceremony to clean up and change out of your formal wear. Coyote and Phoenix were hosting a party at their house to celebrate, but you had a few more things to do before you and Jake left.

“Wait, I have to give you your present,” you stated with a proud smile, stepping away from the mirror. 

Jake raised an eyebrow as you walked past him and over to your dresser. Leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom, Jake only grew more confused when you pulled out a small white box with a ribbon for him. You returned to him and held it out with a giddy smile. 

"What is this?" he asked, tugging on the ribbon to undo it.

"Just open it."

"You're not even going to give me a hint?"

When you shot him an exasperated look, Jake smiled to himself and pulled open the box. There was a piece of white tissue paper over it, but when Jake pushed that to the side, he paused for a moment. He turned to you questioningly before picking up the photo. The first of many, it seemed.

You were posing in a dress and holding a picture from your ultrasound over your bump. A photo that Jake had stared at nearly every day on his own. Your face was somewhat covered by a curtain of your hair, but there was that clear maternal pride and joy radiating off your figure as you stared down at your bump.

Jake gently set that photo aside before moving onto the next one.

It was black and white, and you were kneeling on the ground this time. Your bump was framed by the flaps of a white button up that was clearly several sizes too large for you. Your knees were slightly spread, and the photo was taken from the front. Your hands were resting between your bump and your thighs and even though your face wasn't in it, there was no mistaking that it was you to Jake.

“I know that you have the ultrasound photo up in your locker and in your plane," you explained softly, fiddling with your fingers. "So, I thought that for your promotion, I would give you some more options, since you'll have a new office and everything."

"How did you . . . who took these?" Jake asked you quietly, still looking through the stack with a measure of awe.

"I hired a photographer. She was recommended by some friends. I went to see her after work one day."

Jake picked up another photo when he noticed that there was a stack of Polaroids underneath the others. Setting aside the photo, Jake pulled out the Polaroids and put the box down on the nearby table. And then he really took a long look at the one at the top of the pile. It was a photo of you kneeling from the side, your bump covering your lower modesty, and your left arm cover the rest. You arched your back and gave the viewer a look that probably would have resulted in you getting pregnant, had you not been already.

That one was not going up in his office. He wasn't sharing that photo with the rest of the world.

“Do you like them?” you asked softly as Jake slowly looked up.

He set the photos aside before taking two steps forward and gently cupping your cheeks with his hands. You could barely let out a soft, giddy laugh before his lips were pressed against your own. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you returned the kiss happily until Jake slowly pulled away.

"Darling, I love them," he praised you, pressing another kiss to your lips. "But there's one problem with them."

"What?" you breathed out, suddenly concerned.

"I'm not in them," Jake stated, causing you to push on his chest.

"It was a surprise, Jake. How would I have been able to have you in them and surprise you?"

"Guess we'll just have to do another one, then."

You smiled and nodded before Jake pulled you in for another kiss. Knowing that you still had the party to go to, you started to lean back, but Jake just chased your lips.

"Jake," you reminded him, though it came out muffled due to his lips against yours. Leaning back, you placed your hand on his lips, shooting him a look. "We still have your party. And if we're late, they're just going to think we're fucking."

"But we will be fucking."

You shot him an incredulous expression, which only made him grin and press kisses to your chin and neck. Breathing out, you closed your eyes as Jake's hands trailed over your body. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he found that spot, knowing that it made you a little weak at the knees and your mind a bit muddled.

"Jake," you sighed, turning your head to give him more access despite your initial insistence that you didn't have time. "Just . . . we have to be quick."

~~~~~

Jake offered to drive—no surprise to you—and the two of you chatted about the next few days. You were telling him about the baby shower that Emma and Phoenix were putting together for you when Jake suddenly turned onto a side street. You trailed off, looking at him with mild confusion. 

“Jake, where are you going?”

“Just a little detour.”

“A detour?”

“Just wait and see.”

"We're already going to be late."

"Then a few more minutes won't hurt."

You continued to shoot him looks until Jake parked the car right in front of a house with a ‘for sale’ sign out in front of it. You turned to him with wide eyes as he offered you a soft smile, seemingly proud of your reaction. 

“Jake, we’re going to be late.”

“I can be late to my own party. Now, come on, it’ll just take a few minutes,” Jake stated, opening the door and climbing out. 

“You’re just going to show up?”

“It says open house,” Jake reminded you, smiling at your expression. “Come on.”

You sighed, undoing your seatbelt, but you couldn’t help the curiosity in your gaze as you stepped out of the car. Closing the door behind you, you waited for Jake to walk around the car to meet you.

“We can’t stay too long.”

“I know,” he told you, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. 

The two of you walked up to the front stairs of the house. Jake knocked on the door because you pulled him back when he moved to just stride right on in. A few moments later, a woman answered the door with that distinct realtor smile and welcomed you inside.

“Hi, I’m Donna. I’m the agent for this property. And I’d love to give you a tour.”

“We’d love that,” Jake spoke up before you could. 

Donna held the door open and the two of you walked inside. You stared around the place, quietly taking it in as Jake watched your reaction closely. Donna walked around you and lead you towards the main living area of the house. 

“So, what kind of house are you two looking for?” she asked kindly. She glanced down at your bump before looking between the two of you. “A family home, I'm assuming. A home to grow into?”

“Yes, definitely,” you stated, sharing a look with Jake before turning back to Donna. 

“Is this your first child?”

“Yeah, is it that obvious?” you joked, resting a hand on your back. 

“Not at all. How far along are you now?”

“Nearly six and a half months.”

“Well, this house is a perfect family home. Plenty of space and a nice backyard. There’s a swing set and a slide, but you could certainly change it as your kids grew,” Donna explained as you looked around the main living area. “The sellers lived comfortably here with five kids, so your family of three would be perfectly fine here.”

“Five kids?” you repeated quietly, spinning around.

“There’s that much space here?” Jake asked, looking up and around. 

“Well, there was some bedroom sharing, but they made it work,” Donna replied before moving to show you the kitchen. 

“Five kids,” Jake whistled lowly, causing you to glare at him.

“If you even think about knocking me up with five kids, Jacob, I’ll cut your balls off and hang them above the mantle,” you warned him quietly, poking him in the chest and causing him to grin. 

“We don’t have a mantle," Jake replied after a moment.

“There’s one right there,” you stated, pointing at the one behind him.

“So, you do like this place then?” he asked, causing you to sigh. Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your head before taking your hand. “Come on, we’re missing the tour.”

Donna stood in between the kitchen and living room as you and Jake made your way over to her. 

“It's an open concept, so you can see everything going on in the living area from the kitchen. And there’s big windows so that you can watch your child in the backyard, which is fenced in. The deck isn’t wood. It’s actually plastic, so no need to worry about splinters. They had their kitchen table over there, but there’s also a formal dining area to your left there. But they used that space as an office instead.”

“They could focus in there?” Jake asked, looking into the space. “Wouldn’t it be too loud with five kids?”

“There’s pocket doors,” Donna stated, showing Jake as you walked into the kitchen. 

“The kitchen is nice,” you commented, running your hand over the countertop. Looking around at the appliances, you stopped in front of the sink. “I might want to replace the lighting and a few other small things, but nothing major. Was it updated recently?”

“Four years ago. By the couple before the current sellers, actually.”

“They’re already moving?” you asked softly, turning back to Donna. 

“The husband is in the Navy. He got transferred to Florida.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly. 

Jake stared at you with concern as you turned to look out the window, having heard your tone. Moving around was just a fact of life in the armed services and there was nothing that he could do to change that. And when you displayed your nervous tick—rubbing your bump with your hands—he walked over to you and stared out the window into the backyard beside you.

“How did they manage a house of five kids with just one swing?” Jake wondered aloud, causing you to turn to him.

“Lots of opening the window and yelling at them to share, probably.”

"Would you rather a new window latch then or more swings then?" Jake asked you, causing you to smile with amusement.

Donna showed you the rest of the first floor before ushering you up the stairs. Jake stayed a step behind you just in case you slipped, watching your careful steps until you were safely at the top. 

“Now the master bedroom is over here.”

You stepped into the room first. It felt gigantic compared to your current cramped set up, but it was probably a normal size. Donna listed off some numbers that you didn’t really register as you opened the door to the closet and then the bathroom. Looking around it, you opened the drawers of the vanity as Jake stepped in behind you. 

“Lots of room in the shower,” he commented, causing you to pinch his side. “What?”

“You can't even be satisfied for an hour,” you muttered, shaking your head. "I'm supposed to be the one with the crazy hormones."

You and Jake walked out of the master bedroom and Donna led you a short way down the hallway before opening another bedroom door.  

“And here’s the first and smallest kid bedroom.”

Donna hung back in the hallway to give you some privacy. The room had a blue fluffy carpet and gentle white curtains over the window. Standing in front of the window, you looked at the wall against the hallway and pictured a crib resting there. And to your right would be a closet full of clothes that you already started to collect for your little one. And then to your left would be a chair where you could see Jake sitting with your baby, giving them a night feeding. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered to yourself, wiping a few tears that leaked from your eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m crying right now.”

Turning around, you opened the curtains and stared out into the backyard for a moment, trying to gather your emotions. Jake stepped up beside you and pressed a kiss to your head, resting his hand on your waist and tucking it under your bump. 

“You like it?” he asked you quietly. 

“I love it,” you whispered back, leaning against him. After a moment, you asked, “Is it in our price range?”

“Yes, it is. And we’re only four minutes from your brother’s house, seven from Javy and Nat’s, and twelve from Maverick’s,” Jake listed, causing you to pause. “And you know, if your brother has kids, we’ll be in the same school district as them.”

“Jake,” you breathed out, turning to face him fully. Cupping his cheeks with your hand, you pulled him in for a soft kiss. “I fucking love you.” You pressed another kiss to his lips before resting your head on his chest as he pulled you closer. “How the hell did you find the perfect house?”

“I told you, I’m very good,” Jake replied, causing you to laugh. Resting his head on top of your own, Jake asked softly, “You want to put an offer on it then?”

“Soon,” you agreed, threading your fingers through his own. 

~~~~~

Javy and Phoenix’s backyard was full of the Dagger Squad along with their families and close friends. And after the two of you arrived later than you intended, the party truly got into swing. Drinking your ginger ale, you sat with Emma and Phoenix on the outdoor couch in the shade. 

“He brought you to a house?” Emma asked, causing you to nod.

“We all just assumed that you were fucking,” Phoenix stated bluntly, earning a laugh from you.

“There might have been some of that too.”

“Well, did you like it? The house?” Emma continued on, sitting up. “Can you see yourselves living there?”

“Yeah. We’re going to put an offer on it,” you replied, smiling softly to yourself, still giddy with emotion. “It was just . . . I could picture us living there with the baby and the more I think about it, the more I know that I don’t want the baby to grow up in an apartment.”

“Hopefully, they’ll be willing to close quickly,” Phoenix pointed out, sharing a concerned look with Emma. “You’re cutting it close there.” 

“The realtor told us that the sellers are already in Florida. The husband is in the Navy, and he got new orders, so I think that they’ll be eager to close,” you explained softly. After taking another sip of your ginger ale, you turned to Phoenix with a more serious look. “How long does it take after a promotion for you to get your orders?” 

“Don’t think about that right now,” Emma interjected, resting a hand on your arm. “Just enjoy the moment a little more.” 

“I know, but I can’t pretend that it���s not looming,” you replied before turning back to Phoenix. 

“Depends,” Phoenix returned until your worried expression wore her down. Sighing, she glanced over at where Jake was standing with Coyote before turning back to you. “I’d say that he’d have them within the next two weeks.” 

“I figured,” you agreed, setting your drink down. 

“Well, we’re finishing up with planning your baby shower,” Emma stated, changing the subject to a lighter tone. “Invitations are sent out. We ordered the food and everything too.”  

“Thank you for throwing that for me.” 

“You helped us with our weddings. I think that we can handle one baby shower,” Phoenix pointed out, reaching for her beer. She looked up before turning back to you with a smirk. “Watch out. Hangaround is inbound.” 

“I heard that Phoenix,” Jake sighed, shooting her a look as he passed by. He sat down beside you and asked, “You’re drinking enough water, right?” 

“Jake, I’m fine. Enjoy your party. Have a drink. Go have a good time and don’t worry about me,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze.  

“They’re behaving for you?” Jake asked, glancing at your bump. 

“For now,” you mused before nudging him. “But go have fun.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Emma assured Jake, glancing between the two of you with a bright smile. 

“I think that she can handle sitting down and talking, Hangaround. And you’re being summoned.”

Phoenix pointed in the direction of where Javy, Payback, and Bob were setting up a volleyball net. And with one final nudge from you, Jake walked off to join the game. Shaking your head at him, you turned back to Emma and Phoenix.

“Does it get annoying how much he hovers around you?” Emma asked you, taking a sip of her wine. 

“Only when I’m trying to fall asleep,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “I think it’s sweet.”

Phoenix let out a laugh that made you and Emma turn to her with a confused look. She shook her head and waved off your stares. 

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just thinking about, if you and Hangaround had a little girl, how much of a pain in the ass he would be when she was a teenager.”

“I’m going to need a glass of wine to think about that,” you mused, shaking your head. Turning to Emma, you warned her, “Bradley’s not going to be any better.”

“Oh, I’m already preparing myself,” your sister-in-law assured you, causing the three of you to laugh. 

~~~~~

“I'm just going to run to the bathroom," Jake told you as the two of you walked into your apartment.

“I think I'm just going to watch a little TV and try not to fall asleep,” you replied, offering him a smile before moving to the couch.

Jake walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Digging into his pocket, he opened the drawer that contained all of his shaving supplies. Listening for you, he pulled out the ring box that Javy picked up for him and placed it at the back of the drawer, where you’d never go looking. Closing the drawer carefully, Jake headed out to the living room to find you with the TV on.

He called your name but when he walked around, he paused when he saw that you were already asleep.

Turning off the TV, Jake pulled off your shoes and carefully picked you up to take you to bed. You woke up for a moment as Jake pulled off your sundress and bra, but when he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and told you to go back to bed, you closed your eyes and fell asleep shortly afterwards.

Jake laid beside you, watching as your breathing evened out and you fell deeper into your sleep. Leaning over, Jake rested his weight on his elbows as he hovered over your bump. 

“Don’t bother your mom too much tonight, alright? She had a long day, and she needs her rest. And she’s been telling me that you’ve been laying on her bladder a lot lately. What’s that all about, huh?” 

Jake looked up at you as you let out a soft snore before turning back to your bump.

“I got promoted today. Your dad’s a lieutenant commander now, little one, which means that I outrank your Uncle Chicken. But, uh, your Grandpa Mav still has me beat, even though he’s retired. For now, though. I’ll catch up to him. I just need a little more time, that’s all.” 

Jake laid quietly for a few moments until he leaned closer to your bump just a little more. 

“Can you keep a secret, little one?” he whispered softly. “Of course, you can.” Sitting up a bit more, Jake couldn’t help but smile. “I hid something from your mom earlier, but don’t worry, she’ll find out about it soon. It doesn’t mean a lot to you, I’m sure. It definitely puts a dent in your toy budget. But I’m hoping that it’ll make your mom really happy.” Jake pressed a kiss to your bump before sitting up. “Now, go to bed. And don’t wake your mom up.” 

~~~~~

The next day, you and Jake officially put an offer on the house. 

Donna told you when you left the house yesterday that there was interest from other buyers. And even if that was a load of bullshit meant to get a higher initial offer, the two of you didn’t care. You weren’t going to lose that house. 

“Come on, let’s go for a drive,” Jake stated, walking over to where you were standing in the kitchen. “We’re thinking about it too much. And I don’t want you to stress about it.” 

“I’m not stressed,” you insisted, shooting your boyfriend a look.

“You are stress-baking,” he replied, pointing at the cake that was sitting on the countertop to cool. 

“I am not stress-baking. It’s one of my coworker’s birthdays tomorrow.” 

“Which one?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh and look away from him. “Come on, just a little drive. Up the coast. Some sea air will do you some good.” 

“Alright,” you agreed after a moment. “Where did you want to go?” 

As you got further and further away from Miramar, you shot Jake a look, knowing that he was up to something. But throughout the drive, he never gave away his secret until he finally took an exit. 

“You’re bringing me here?” you questioned him, finally getting Jake to look over at you. “Why?” 

“They have great French fries at that restaurant.” 

“Of course,” you drawled sarcastically, nodding along.

Jake parked the car down by the beach and the two of you got out of the car. He patted his pocket, triple checking that the little box was there before he walked around to your side. You walked down to the soft sand together and Jake started a very casual conversation about the upcoming week. 

The sun was starting to set, bathing the beach in a warm orange glow. The beach was emptying out quicker that day and by the time that you and Jake walked for a few minutes, the two of you were pretty much alone.  

You stopped for a moment, stretching out your spine a little bit. Jake turned to you with concern, but you assured him that you were fine, just a little uncomfortable. 

“Are they moving around right now?” Jake asked you, resting a hand on your bump.

“Yes, they are. They’re wiggling a lot,” you told him, trying to stretch your back again. 

“Are they finally supposed to be kicking soon?” 

“It’s close, yeah,” you agreed, rubbing his cheek softly. “But they’re just wiggling for now.” 

Jake placed his hands on your bump, trying desperately to feel your child move. To feel their little hand or their little foot press against his own hand. But not yet apparently. 

“Maybe another day, then,” Jake replied softly, trying to hide his disappointment.

“You’re never going to let go of me once they do, are you?” you mused, starting to walk again.

“Not if I can help it.”

“And you wonder why Phoenix calls you Hangaround now.” Seeing Jake’s expression change, you grabbed his hand. “Sorry, I know you don’t like it.” 

“No, I don’t like how much you like it,” Jake returned with a joking edge of annoyance, forcing you to fight a smile. 

“Sorry.” 

You pressed a kiss to his lips in apology before the two of you kept walking with soft smiles. Jake swung your hands together, glancing out at the waves as he summoned his courage. Glancing over at you and then your bump, he turned to face forward again.

“Do you remember the weekend that we spent up here?” Jake asked you, causing you to shoot him a teasing look. 

“The weekend where we’re ninety-nine percent sure that you knocked me up during? Yeah, it’s sort of been a recurring memory over these last few months.”

“Not too far from here, would you think?” Jake asked you, causing you to nudge him. “What? You said that you’d never gone skinny dipping and I wasn’t about to let you live your whole life without experiencing it.” 

“Such a gentleman,” you teased him, patting his chest before walking down to the water. Jake let you take a few steps in front of him until your toes brushed against the waves. “What? You brought me back here for a second round? Because I hate to break it to you, Seresin, but I’m not that flexible any—” 

You cut yourself off when you turned around to see Jake down on one knee, pulling a small square box from his pocket. Your teasing smile dropped, and your eyes widened, your heart beating erratically in your chest.

“Promise me that you’re not going to go into early labor or anything please,” Jake joked, trying to lighten the mood, but you could tell that he was nervous.

“I won’t,” you mumbled quietly, still in shock.

“I never really pictured myself as this kind of guy,” Jake started off with, somehow managing the strength to hold your gaze. “The kind to get excited by the fact that he was going to be a father, or share his apartment with his girlfriend, or look for a family home with a good school system and a backyard suitable for little kids to run around in.” 

He sent you the most nervous expression that you had ever seen on him. And you knew that he was serious. You slowly held a hand to your chest, trying to calm your heart. 

“But then I met you and everything was just . . . easy. Natural. You weren’t afraid to challenge me, and you weren’t afraid to do it often. You were just so full of life and joy, and I had to be around you. I couldn’t be without you. And, well, the sex was amazing too.” 

“Jake,” you gently nudged him. 

“Right, sorry,” he replied, nervously clearing his throat. “And when you didn’t talk to me because you were freaking out about the fact that I got you pregnant, I felt like I had the rug pulled out from under me. It was then that I realized that I’d pictured you in my future. That I pictured you as my future. And I didn’t take the news well, I’ll admit.”

Shifting on his knee, Jake looked up at you, the backlighting from the sunset making you look all the more beautiful as you stood there, waiting for him to get to his point. 

“And when you left after our fight, I was brought back to those days all over again. And hell, I can’t live without you. I can’t live without the both of you. I don’t want to do it. I can’t do it. I can’t picture my life now without the two of you in it. So, that's why I'm down on my knee, rambling, and probably making you want to say 'no' with how long I'm taking to get to my point.” 

Jake slowly popped the ring box open, and you covered your mouth with your hand. Emotional tears started to fall as Jake locked eyes with you once more. 

“I love you. I love our baby. I love the life that we’re building together. And I’ll do anything and everything to keep and protect it. So . . . will you marry me?”

You let out some kind of strangled noise that wasn’t quite intelligible, but the erratic nod of your head communicated your feelings well enough. Jake stood up and you immediately pulled him in for a kiss that he was all too happy to return. The two of you stood there, rocking each other together as waves of emotion rolled off of you.

“I love you,” Jake repeated as the two of you pulled away. 

“I love you too.”

Jake pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling the ring out of the box. Grabbing your hand, he slipped the ring onto your finger, causing you to let out another set of tears. 

“Jake, it’s beautiful. I love it,” you praised him, turning back to Jake. 

“I wanted to get one that looked like your mom’s, but was also your own,” he explained, causing you to let out another strangled noise. 

“I love you so much,” you repeated with a loving, incredulous laugh, pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I love you too.” 

You let out a small gasp that immediately caused Jake to latch onto you, fear crawling up and down his spine. Resting his hands on your hips, he searched your face for pain. 

 “What is it? I didn’t send you into labor, did I?” 

“No, no,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “They’re just really moving around now. I think they’re excited.” 

Jake pressed his hand to your bump, desperately feeling for a little kick or push. It would have been the perfect moment if the first time that he felt your child move was right after he proposed to you, but apparently that was just a fantasy.

“Sorry,” you apologized, running your thumb over his cheek softly. “I know how much you want to feel them.” 

“They’re stubborn, that’s all,” Jake replied quietly.

“I wonder where they got that from.” 

~~~~~

Jake walked through the halls of NAS North Island, keeping his gaze focused forward. It was later in the day and there were fewer people walking through the halls. He left his phone back in his office, knowing that if he saw your name pop up that he would feel the need to answer it and it would just take away from your peace.

Knocking on Cyclone’s door, Jake waited for the affirmative before opening the door. Cyclone sat behind his desk and Jake stepped forward. Standing at attention, Jake relaxed a bit with Cyclone’s reply. But the tension in his shoulders was still apparent.

“You received my orders, sir?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I have, Hangman.” 

Cyclone held out a folder that Jake took into his own hands. Jake tried to read Cyclone’s expression, but it was impassive, as any admirals would be in this situation. Flipping the folder open, Jake quickly searched for the answer to the question that haunted him for weeks, if not months.

Would he be there with you when your child was born? 

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[frogchiro]

It’s alright I should’ve been more clear about which post it was! I am thinking about a monster König and Ghost fight for reader now though😳

okay imma be real, I used this as an excuse to write about monster! König because I'M NOT OKAY

I've seen someone on Twitter or tiktok say that König is just a barely domesticated alternate and honestly? Yeah <3

When I called Monster! Ghost a menace, then you haven't met König, absolutely shameless and nasty, the ultimate menace to society and you too, once you show him any sign of kindness you're not getting rid of him.

He's a shadow creature too but jesus christ he's terrifying. You know how alternates (from Mandela Catalogue) are almost always shown to be just those vaguely shaped dark masses lurking in the darkness with their eyes being the most pronounced feature? That's König. He's fucking terrifying, his wide eyes trailing after you from the dark tree line in the evening when you're doing some chores like last minute watering your plants or watching you from behind the curtains at night when you're entertaining yourself with a book or show.

It's honestly very unnerving, the feeling of someone clearly watching you but the second you turn around there's nothing there, yet you could swear you saw something move right in the corner of your eye.

As for König's and Ghost's rivalry, it's more of a 'who's more bold and cunning and who can hide better'. It's a dick measuring contest tbh. Ghost will boast about snatching some of your clothes and mocking the bigger male but then König performs the biggest 'fuck you' move and...reveals himself to you. More or less.

He comes to you one day as a kind of questionable creature, like a small land-octopus-something with huge begging eyes and you just can't leave it alone :(( You have no clue what this creature may be but your heart broke at the pathetic sight; the little one covered in bruises and dirt and making tiny hurt noises so you just had to take it in!

Of course just as you picked König up (his transforming ability finally coming handy) and carried him home to give him a bath and take care of his 'injuries' König looked over your shoulder and have Ghost the nastiest, most smug look he could manage in this form and he could almost hear the angry yells and bellows in Ghost's mind as he had to watch König snuggle closer to your breast :(((

[solacestyles]

─ EARLY RISER ❜ aegon ii targaryen

─ summary to wake your husband for his duties, you need to take desperate measures.

❛ pairing Aegon II Targaryen x reader

❛ note this is the first time I post anything I write here! also, english is not my first language.

❛ word count 697

Unfortunately for your husband, you've always been an early riser. The heat waves from your hometown used to force you awake and out of bed right after sunrise, the time that it became unbearable to even stay lying down.

When the light started gleaming through the thin navy blue curtains your body immediately stirred, taking you out of your rest. Aegon's arms were keeping you locked close to his chest, and not even your tiredness from the night before was enough to keep you in bed, his body warmth combined with the high temperature left you bothered, your skin burning where the blanket and his skin touched yours. Thankfully, the servants already knew you enjoyed bathing first thing in the morning, especially on warmer days like this one, and made sure that your bath was ready before the first rays of light reached the horizon.

You knew your first challenge of the day would be convincing Aegon to get up and ready. The family carriage was set to leave at 8 for your son's name day hunt, and although it was your husband's idea, you were aware he wouldn't mind leaving the realm's most important lords waiting several hours just so he could get a few more hours of sleep.

The first try was calling his name and touching his pale face, it only made him snuggle closer to be more comfortable with you. You tried again, getting out of his embrace and shaking his shoulders, but again, a failed attempt. At least you were seeing progress now, earning a few complaints from him.

Silently deciding this was your last try before taking more desperate measures you straddled his body and left kisses all over his jaw and neck, finally contemplating his dark violet eyes opening.

"Good morning, my handsome king." his face was still red and with evident sleep marks, his eyes struggling to be kept open. One of your husband's hand went directly to your waist, while the other was occupied rubbing his eyes.

"Morning, my dear queen." he bent his body to peck your lips and dropped his head again to the pillow straight away. "Must you wake me at this unholy hour?"

"Well, I don't know if it slipped your mind, but today is Rhaegar name day." you said giving him small kisses with each word. "You know, your son, the future king, our little brave dragon rider."

Aegon gave you an airy smile and mumbled something among the lines of "totally remembered" while closing his eyes again.

"No! Don't go back to sleep, do you know how long it took me to wake you?"

No response. You climbed out of his lap and stopped by his side of the bed. Sighed and debated mentally what you could do to get him up for good.

"Aegon!" you said a bit louder, making him jump a little in bed. "Love, please get up."

"Dove, i'm begging you, let me enjoy a bit of sleep before making me endure those lords dull talk." he did not even open his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

"We need to be there so the lords dull talk is not about how they have an irresponsible queen and king as rulers." again, nothing. "Please, Aegon."

You finally get fed up and decide to use your low blow. You walk away slowly from the bed and stop close to the door that leads to the bath chambers.

"Fine, do as you please." you said with a ruff, and this sparked Aegon's interest, you never give up this easily, he opened one eye to see what were you up to, and he watched you start to undress from your white nightgown.

"I'm going to take a bath, I was expecting you to join me, but it seems I'll be alone today."

Aegon leaps up immediately, his eyes wide open. "No, no! I'm already up.”

He speeds to get to you before you leave and rapidly caught your waist with both of his arms. With his head resting on your shoulder, as he sniffs your neck lovingly, getting giggles out of you.

"Knew that would work."