#if you take the tv from him. if you tell him to do something else. if you tell him hes not allowed rn

[poppy-metal]

fail marriage au…………………….

having your first big blow out fight after marriage counselling. putting everything you ever found aggravating or disrespectful or wrong or even just a bit annoying on the table. art doing exactly the same. it gets mean. it gets personal. it gets ugly. you scream at him, scream like a banshee and he shouts back. veins you didn’t know he had bulge in his neck, his fingers flex as he wildly gesticulates. you throw something, a plastic tv remote that shatters against the wall. it all passes in a heated blur, you hardly know what you’re doing or saying but that blood is pumping through your veins and you’re alive and so is art. alive. furious, at you. you stalk up to him, and he stands tall above you, looming like a storm cloud. a sweet faced angelic storm cloud that right at this second you couldn’t fucking stand. you jab at his chest with your finger as you yell, lay into him. why couldn’t he tell you how he feels? why did he have to be so fucking passive aggressive? why was tashi the centre of his fucking universe? why couldn’t he be a fucking man and tell you what he really wants? be a man art. be a fucking man for once in your goddamn life.

his nostrils flare, his anger rising with every poke. he grabs your wrist, yanks it up and leans in close. stooping, showing you that he is bigger. he would stoop to your level. he will fight back. you feel his breath on your nose and seethe. he’s still minty fresh. stupid cunt.

“what i want is for you to shut the fuck up and stop acting like you know everything.”

“fuck off, you limp dicked sack of shit.”

“fuck you cunt.” he flicks those brutal syllables at you, chewing his words, opening his mouth so you can see his tongue forming them. you feel the severity in the pit of your stomach. you feel something else lower.

“fuck me? fuck you!”

and in that moment you drew together, moving as one, in the most violent kiss of the modern age. he squeezes your wrist, still held aloft. your other hand grips his shirt collar, pulling so hard it hurts his neck. good. you hope his delicate little neck gets a friction burn and a rash and you hope it stings forever. he tongues furiously at your mouth, mashing his lips into yours and licking the side of your mouth. eating your face like he eats pussy. which he hasn’t done in a while, another thing to yell at him about later. his other hand grips the back of your head, holding it still so you have no choice but to recieve his hot, angry love. you kiss back with equal fury. you want to make him suffer your love. don’t want it? tough luck. it’s his. and he will take it. he grunts into your mouth, it vibrates your tongue. you pull back, but he doesn’t let you. he forces you back nearer to him, spine curving in hateful ecstasy. he kisses you for a few more seconds before drawing back only a few centimetres to rest his forehead on yours and breathe. your lips are wet with him.

“i love you,” you breath.

he caresses the back of your head.

“prove it.”

me when i overachieve.

anyway this is apart of my failmarriage au and you should probably read this part first to understand whats going on here. or just follow the #failmarriage au tag that i have.

your breath shudders out of you. you'd never heard that tone from him before, or rather, never directed at you. not exactly cold but, chilled. serious and pointed. dominant.

your hands fall from his hair, sliding down his throat, his shoulders. you stare into his eyes - he stares back. you feel like you're on a razor thin wire. concede or push back.

you wonder what this will fix. but you don't think you care. you want him. you miss him. your heart is pounding just thinking about it. you take a step back, two, three, several paces.

"okay," you say. you dont even know what you're agreeing too, just that you want it, whatever it is.

before you even have time to linger on that thought though -

because art is already stalking towards you, undoing his soft leather belt and letting it drop to the floor. you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe. just watching in this kind of stupified silence as art unczips his pants and slides his delicate fingers under his waistband. In three strides, art was right up in your space, owning it,  staring you down with a cool kind of control in his eyes, heavy cock in his hand, already hard and flushed and mouthwateringly beautiful. you couldn’t speak. you couldn’t think. all you could see was art. 

when art spoke, his voice was an iron grip closing around your throat. each word as clear and distinct as a brand to your hot skin.

“get on your knees”

you sink to the floor. It felt like falling, your knees knocked out from under you by the invisible string of his command that binds you to him. breath punches out of your lungs as you let yourself go under. art was already reaching out and grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock past your waiting lips, pushing all the way to the hilt as his leaking head slammed into the back of your throat.

“god,” art breathed out, vice grip holding you in place. “You’re beautiful like this” and you were lost. years of built resentment and anxiety dissipating like smoke as art took over your senses. the taste of him, the smell of him, the warmth of him, the silk soft press of his cock down your throat. It was everything you’d been longing for from him. 

your hands fly up to grip art’s waist, fingers trying to find purchase, pressing him deeper, holding him deeper, worried he might pull out but not able to hold yourself back. when art didn’t say anything, didn't tell you to stop, you sank forward and started to suck greedily, tongue running over art’s throbbing length, trying desperately to take him apart, to please him, to worship him, to give him what he wanted. 

you heard yourself whine, felt your body sway forward, but you managed to hold yourself still, keep your tongue flat, keep your mouth wide and waiting, holding art still against the back of your throat, wanting desperately to prove you were good. that you loved him. That you wanted, wanted, wanted him.

"give me your hand,” art breathes, looking down at you, and you think briefly of the ancient greek god apollo, and how if art was a deity, you.d gladly stay right where you are. lovingly holding him in the back of your throat. 

your mind was already starting to go fuzzy with the heavy weight of art on the back of your tongue, salt slowly leaking from his pink slit, the slow stretch of his your lips around art’s shaft starting to ache in your jaw. , but, still you had enough awareness to look up confused, meeting art’s eyes in a question. but art didn’t offer an explanation. just looked down at you, hand held out, patiently waiting, like it wasn’t a question of whether you would obey; it was just a matter of when.

shakily, your hand reaches out to his. by instinct or by pure coincidence, its the hand with your wedding band on it. your fingers brush against each other, and then arts fingers, lithe and strong, an athlete's fingers, slide between yours. he brings your clasped hands together against his chest. if your throat wasn’t stuffed with cock you’d gasp at the gesture, the intimacy of it alone. your palm against his bare chest, his right pectoral. right over his thunderous heartbeat. his wedding band presses against yours. 

“Im gonna move, okay?” he breathes down at you, and his hand squeezes yours. “If you want me to stop just squeeze my hand two times.”

you nodded, a slight movement, eager and unbidden. art ran a finger under your jaw, fluttering his fingers against you. you had to shuffle a little to keep as much of art in your mouth as you could as he exhaled and used his free hand to slide against the back of your skull, cupping it tenderly.

a little punched-out gasp falls from arts lips as he slowly rocked his hips, pushingas deep as he could go as you moaned around him. art took a second, waited for you to look at him, blink the tears from your eyes, before he started the slow glide out of your mouth. you laid your tongue flat against the underside of him, tracing the veins, unable to move forward to chase him back down your throat as arts hand kept you firmly in place.

when he was all the way out, spit slick and gleaming, he rested the flushed head of himself against your bottom lip. rubbed himself there, traced every contour of your mouth with the slit of his cock. glossing your lips with the sheen of his precum. 

“I love you.” he said - voice choked and you couldnt tell if it was from emotion or lust, maybe a combination of the two. 

you felt something flare hot in your belly, but before you could utter a word, art was sliding back home, right back into the silk pallet of your throat. and you welcomed him greedily, lapping up every inch he gave you. 

the whole while you held his hand, still pressed against his chest. you tilted open your jaw as wide as it could go, imagining you wanted to be a snake and swallow him whole. you took everything. you breathed through your nose when he was settled fully inside you - you sucked around him when he began to pull back, suctioning your mouth around him to mimic a pussy. a tight hole.

arent i such a good wife, you thought. no one could take his cock like you could. no one would drop to their knees and let themselves be used this way, but you would. to you, this was love. this was passion. 

art lasted a few more minutes before he was dragging himself free from the warm hug of your throat -

“I want you spread out on the kitchen counter," art panted, jerking his chin. he reached down to wrap a loose hand around his wet cock, stroking it languidly. your throat ached with missing it. “I need to be inside you. I want to -” he swallows. “I want to fuck you."

you inhaled sharply. it was a word you didn't often hear from arts lips. especially in reference to sex. the crude word coming from him made your belly clench warmly. more, you wanted more of that.

you stared at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a couple seconds, art’s cock still only inches from your face. you watched transfixed as art’s leaking head slipped between the tight circle of his fingers, flushed tip disappearing and pushing back through. It was filthy, it was gorgeous, and your whole body shuddered imagining what it would feel like at your entrance: the slow press, the slick head, the aching burn as it slowly pushed inside. because it would burn. the last time you’d had sex….. you didnt want to think about it.

Instead you hurriedly scrambled to obey. shoving the straps of your dress down as you went, feeling it pool around your waist as you bent against the cool marble of the counter. you’d never fucked here. suddenly that was a crazy thought to you. wasnt it a kind of ritual for a couple - to christen the house? your fingers curled into your palms as you pressed your bare chest down. 

you felt art come up behind you and your breath hitched when you felt his palms skimming up the backs of your thighs. you hadnt realized you’d been trembling until that moment. something about his touch calmed you though. 

ridiculous,  to be shy when this was your husband. he’d seen your cunt a hundred times.

all thoughts fled your head when those familiar fingers parted the lips of your cunt - finding you wet. “baby” art’s strangled voice reached your ears as he felt through your delicate slit - he sounded beside himself with wonder. that you,d be this wet for him. this ready. he slid two fingers in easily - just a slight pressure at your entrance and there was a give of the flesh. and he was in - inside you. pumping steadily. “that’s it,” a kiss at the base of your spine, soft and special. “let me in. give me whats mine.”

yours, you dont know if you breathed it or just echoed it in your head. hips pushing back into him, opening yourself further. the stretch was full but it felt so right. 

“god - you’re so responsive - how could i forget -” he was working himself up. his thumb nudged your clit, circled it with the pad before pressing down on it, his own goran covering up your keen. like it affected him more than it did you, to feel how you throbbed against him with need. “gonna put my tongue on your clit everyday and you’re going to let me. let me worship what i married, spread your legs and fucking take it-”

“oh god,” you’re whining. practically humping your cunt on his fingers. “whatever you want, baby. take it, its all yours.” 

you clench around nothing when he suddenly yanks his fingers free, but you dont have to mourn the loss long, your empty spasming hole feeling the silken pressure of his cock in the next second. he grips your waist, wholly possessive as he drags you back onto him and, oh. Its so blissful. that tender ache in your cunt as its filled to the brim. You’d-

“fuck - i missed this - missed your pussy -” 

yes, yes missed. you’d missed this.

art adjusts himself. spreads out his legs so he can really move, leans his broad chest over your back, covering you, smothering you, squishing you into the countertop but he doesnt care. you dont care. pinned beneath him and speared open like this - you’ve never felt more loved by him. 

“so tight and warm - god - i never wanna leave -” he watches, pink lips parted where you’ve taken him. the flared open lips of your pussy hugging the base of his cock. a groan rips from his chest, loud, because he wants you to know, really fucking know, how overwhelmed he is, how much you make him feel, as he slowly drags himself out - only able to make it halfway before he has to bury himself back into that tight heat. your walls tighten and squeeze around him in these luxurious pulls and he feels spit pool in his mouth, the sensation enough to empty his brain. he rocks there, barely pulling free from the clutch of your body. 

“treat me so well with this - little cunt - “ wet desperate kisses are pressed wherever he can reach, his mouth hungry for the salt of your skin. he pulls it between his teeth, some raw animal part of him just wanting to naw on you. he rubs his forehead against your shoulders as he starts to move his hips faster. finally pulling out all the way before he slams back in, knocking your hips into the hard marble, and he should say sorry, he should take more care, you’ll be bruised surely, but then his mind flits back to your therapy session - at the words you’d both said - how you felt - and the words exchanged in your fight. and he feels something kindle in his chest, sparked to life by the liquid heat pouring through him - you fucking - you’re so cruel sometimes and you dont even know - you dont even see what you’re doing to him, the power you hold, how much he’d give to you if only you’d fucking open up to him. get angry at him. demand more of what you want instead of fucking expecting him to read your goddamn mind. 

he hadn’t felt the wet grip of his wifes pussy in months until just now. that couldn’t happen again. 

he pulls himself to his full height - using his ringed hand to make a makeshift leash of your hair, wrapping it around his tan fist. anchors you back onto his hard dick again and again in hard punishing pulls that seem to punch moans from you.

“this is how i should have treated you from the beginning, huh? come home every day and bend you over the minute i step through the door. pound out all my frustrations on this tight cunt. use you to masturbate my dick.” he grunts - that viseral fury that’d you’d seen spark in him briefly before was back in full force now. you could feel it in the reverberating clap of his balls against your ass. the forceful grip on your hair, yanking your neck back, nearly pulling your chest off the counter, your tits bouncing. “maybe then you’d appreciate me.”

you dont know what part in you is broken that soaks his cock at his treatment instead of clamping up. his anger, his vitriol, it all speaks to a deep part inside of you that screams to be wanted. you whimper and bear down around him, meeting him instead of shying away. 

“g - od - oh god, art - “

“would that make you my happy little wife?” he slows back down. drags his thick length in and out of you in purposeful rolls of his hips. “I bring all my shit to you and you devote this hot little pussy to warming my dick. you’ll take care of me, right? drop to your knees and give me a proper fucking welcome home.”

you cant think. your eyes are rolling back, your brain fogging. Its so good, oh god, how is it so fucking good. you’re drenched between your thighs, you can feel it running down your thighs. you can feel the hot raw part of your pussy that is being penetrated again and again on his cock as it retreats and then glides back in. 

“Im gonna cum.” is all you can say. “art, im so close -”

“fuck,” he stops his movements. grinding his hips into yours, churning his dick inside you. his mouth skims your ear, he lets go of your hair to grip you around the throat. “tell me you love me. tell me you love me when you cum, baby, or i swear to god, i cant do this anymore -” 

“I love you!” the words are the truest they’ve ever been in years. you’re on your tippy toes, squirming, trying to get away or trying to get closer, you cant tell. probably closer. you want art to carve apart for himself inside you - brand himself on you forever so you can never leave, never forget, never doubt this marriage. “I love you, i love you, i love you, i love-”

“I love you too. fuck - i need you to cum. cum on my cock and show me you still want this -” 

you shatter apart. a million stars exploding in a galaxy. arts strong arms come around you like a band, wrapping you up against him as you shake. your breaths come out harshly in sync. the beats of your heart a fast thrum between you. 

you turn your head, desperately seeking, and he’s there, already leaning down to take your lips in a kiss. 

the weight of him still inside you is one you take comfort in. you dont want him to leave your body. you dont want this to end. 

“stay,” you whisper against his mouth. 

his hand cups your cheek, strokes his thumb over the swell of your flushed skin. “always,” he says back. 

[coldfanbou]

It Wasn't Supposed To Be Like This

New week, new fic, and things don't go well. Beware of cucking

Length 3.4K

IU smut

“Jieun, you're so plain. Why don’t you spice up your relationship? Have some fun with your sex life.” Kang Han-na said as she playfully slapped Jieun.

“I’m not plain; we just like keeping things simple. We don’t need very much.”

“Exactly, don’t you want to be wild? My boyfriend and I have been having a lot of fun. We try all kinds of things: rough sex, bondage, cucking. You name it, and we’re going to try it.”

“Cucking? What’s that?”

“Oh? That one caught your eye?” Han-na says with a smirk; she places her hands on the table, placing her head on top of them as she explains. “Cucking is having some guy fuck you while your partner watches, or vice versa. It was so much fun; I had the time of my life. I had two guys fucking me while he just watched and jerked off. You should totally do it.”

Jieun rubs her legs, anxious about being with someone else. “No, I could never do that to him.” 

“You’re missing out, Jieun. You have to live a little. I can always hook you up with the guys I had; they will make you feel like you never have.” Han-na continues speaking to Jieun about the topic until they go their separate ways. During the entire walk home, Jieun’s mind is filled with images as she sees every scene that Han-na described in her head. She grips her bag a little tighter as she walks.

You sit across from Jieun, eating your dinner as you converse. “Are you sure about this?” You ask, a little unsure about her proposition. “I really don’t feel too comfortable about it.” You tell her, fidgeting in your seat.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just something a friend of mine has been into, and she thought it could be good for us, but I understand where you’re coming from.” Jieun gives you a soft smile, trying to reassure you. You’ve been dating for over two years and know each other well enough. She places her hand on yours, “I’m not going to push you to try it. Honestly, the idea makes me nervous, too.” You know both of you want to explore in the bedroom, but it’s mostly with toys. You don’t want to deny yourselves the chance to try new things. 

“I-I’ll have to think about it more. I just want to be the only one with you.”

“I know; I want to be with you too.” Jieun cups your cheek and leans over the table, giving you a sincere kiss before sitting back in her chair. The two of you finish your dinner and head to bed. The two of you lay in bed, Jieun curled into your chest. Her light breathing is barely audible as she clutches your shirt. You wrap your arms around her, holding her against you tightly as you fall asleep.

The following day, Jieun prepares herself, putting on her earrings as she speaks to you. “I’m going out with Han-na, today. I’ll be home by two.” She yells from the bathroom.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Jieun kisses you on the cheek and hugs you before she leaves, heading to a cafe to meet her friend. Spotting Han-na from outside, she hurries and sits with her friend. “Han-na! It’s nice to see you. Have you been waiting for a long time?”

“No, I just got here.” The two chat about their recent schedules and workouts before the topic takes a turn. “So, did your boyfriend like the idea?”

“Not really; you have to understand it would be a big step for us. Besides, it’s not something I really want to try either.”

“Oh, but it’s great. It spices your sex life up. My boyfriend and I have been doing it forever. He loves watching me.” Jieun nods her head, a slight frown on her. “I’m sure he would love it too.” The two continue their conversation, with Han-na convincing Jieun to talk to you again.

Jieun returns home just as she said she would. Hearing the TV on in the living room, she throws herself at you, laying her head on your lap. “What’s going on Jieun?”

“I just want to lay here for a bit,” Jieun says, pouting. 

You poke her cheek, “Don’t frown like that. It’s okay.” You tell her, running your hands through her hair. 

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night. I want to do it.” 

Your eyes shoot down to Jieun, “You want to?”

“Yeah, Han-na says that they do it all the time and that they’re all the better for it and stronger for it. I think that it’ll be good for us.” 

You're hesitant, scared even. “Jieun, I’m not sure. Han-na is…well, she’s different.”

Jieun sits up, “Just this once. If you don’t feel good after, then that’s it. We never try it again.” Her voice was forceful, and you saw the determination in her eyes.

“I guess. If you want to do it so bad.”

Jieun wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly. “Thanks, honey. I just want you to remember that I love you and only you.”

You felt a pit in your stomach; you didn’t like the idea one bit, but you wanted Jieun to be happy. 

That night, she came to you wearing just a pair of white panties. She covered her chest as she walked toward you, biting her lip and struggling to maintain eye contact.“I want to thank you for letting us explore a little bit.” Jieun straddles your lap. She helps you get your shirt off and kisses you softly. She places your hands on her waist, and you grip her softly, staring into her loving eyes as she kisses you. Her hands rest on your chest as your bulge grows harder between her legs. Jieun smiles as she feels it. Her hips move back and forth; she rubs your cock against her crotch, letting out soft moans and mewing. The moonlight dances across her delicate skin as she shifts her weight. “I love you,” She moans. “Please, take me,” Jieun says, staring into your eyes. 

You roll her over onto her back and pull off her panties. She is clean-shaven, and a blush forms across her face when you glance at her. You smile at her and toss the panties to the side before crawling over her and kissing her neck. Jieun wraps her arms around your head, gently pulling you in to tell you to keep going. You grab your cock, stroking it slowly before pressing it against her cunt. Jieun shuts her eyes and moans as she feels you push in. Her walls are pushed apart as you move in. You continue to nip at her neck, giving her more pleasure as you bury yourself inside her. You wait a moment, staring at her as her eyes flutter open. She gives you a slight nod, and you begin moving. You tell her how much she means to you as you thrust. Jieun smiles back at you, listening to your words carefully as she locks her legs around your waist. She pulls you into a kiss, her lips forming a smile as they’re pressed against yours. “I love you so much.” She says, her legs tightening around you. Your thrusts continue at a slow pace as you enjoy her body. Jieun’s moans slowly rise as she reaches her climax, and her grip over you tightens.

You press your lips against Jieun’s, marking your love for her as you bury yourself inside her and cum. She’s breathless as she feels your warm cum move inside her; a gentle smile forms as she pulls you into a hug. The two of you remain in your embrace for a few minutes. You slowly pull out and lay beside her until you both drift off to sleep. 

The next morning, you and Jieun discuss the ground rules for what would be allowed. When you feel uncomfortable, you remind yourself that Jieun wants to try new things and that maybe you would enjoy it, too. Han-na gives Jieun the phone numbers of a couple of guys, John and Al, and soon, everything is set. She had made the calls nervously but managed to get them to come over.

When the day arrived, Jieun shyly welcomed them into your home, dressed only in her underwear as she led them back into the bedroom. She laid on the bed, bringing them up to it. They disrobed first, presenting her their cocks. She took one in each hand, stroking them slowly; it was the first time she would be with someone else, let alone two people at once.

You were uncomfortable with the situation from the start. Al and John touched Jieun, their hands wandering her body as you sat there. Jieun was focused on them, her moans moving through the room as they stripped her of her underwear. Once she had bared it all to them, they explored her body. John ran his fingers along her stomach; once he reached her cunt he pushed two fingers inside. Jieun squirmed, her legs trapping his hand in place as her lips formed an O. Al pulled on her nipples roughly, making them stretch before letting go. Jieun smiled. She was enjoying all the attention she was getting from them. He was the first to make a move; Al grabbed his cock and stuffed it into her mouth without a care. 

Jieun’s eyes shot open; she looked at him as her lips stretched around his cock, forming a tight seal. Jieun moaned around it, John’s fingers still moving inside her cunt. “That’s it bitch, lick it like you love it,” Al grunted as he held Jieun’s face and thrust over half his length into her mouth. Jieun’s eyes began to water, and she struggled to take it in.

John had enough watching and pulled his fingers out of Jieun, wiping them off on her stomach before moving her onto all fours. She continued to suck on Al’s cock, her tongue moving up and down his shaft as she felt John press his cock against her cunt. “Oh, you’re going to be a tight one,” he says before ramming his entire length inside Jieun. Her scream is muffled; you notice her gripping the bedsheets tightly. John didn’t wait, thrusting quickly into Jieun’s cunt, slapping her ass. Jieun bounces from one cock to the other; John’s thrusts cause her body to lurch forward into Al’s. You watched as Jieun got into it, her senses leaving her. Jieun’s grip slowly loosens; she places her hands on Al’s thighs as she bobs her head as best she can. Her eyes become half-lidded, and her scream soon turns to moans. “Fuck Jieun, you’re so tight.” John groans as he grips her waist, pulling her back into her thrusts.

Jieun was enjoying herself; that much was clear. As the pleasure came in, her body began to loosen. She reached down, cupping Al’s balls as she bobbed her head. “You’re a dirty bitch.” He commented. She glanced up at him before her eyes returned downward. “I’m going to cum, I want you to drink it all.” Jieun nodded her head. As Al’s cock began to throb, he pushed Jieun’s head to the base. She was choking on his cock as he came, her mouth was filled with his semen, and it spilled out of her, running down her chin. Jieun coughs as he pulls out, but her hand reaches up, stroking his cock. She stares into his eyes as she licks her lips. Her eyes were red, and her face was a mess.  

“Can I have some more?” She asks. Those were the first words out of her mouth since this began, and they hurt you. You may have had a hard-on, but you weren’t enjoying this. You felt dejected and stayed quiet as they continued.

Al smiles and grabs Jieun’s hair, pulling her back onto his cock and letting her tongue go to work. John continued his thrusts, each one with increasing speed. “Shit, I’m going to cum. I’m going to do it inside.” John reaches over, rubbing her clit quickly and shocking Jieun with the sudden mass of pleasure.

“Give it to me, cum inside me,” Jieun said, pulling away from Al just to say that. Your mouth drops that was against the rules you had set up together. John doesn’t hesitate, impaling Jieun on his cock and cumming inside her pussy. Jieun’s body shakes, and she cums on his cock. She revels in the feeling of his warm cum inside her; there’s a look of pure bliss on her face. Her tongue slows to a crawl as it moves over Al’s cock. She was lost in a world of pleasure. You saw the dazed look in her eyes as they pulled out of her and switched places. John didn’t need to say a word; Jieun reached for his cock and wrapped her lips around it, bobbing her head and moaning as she felt Al push his cock into her aching pussy. 

They continued for some time, and Jieun begged for Al to cum in her too. Their cum mixed inside her as she continued her blowjob. John decided to dirty her even more, coating her face in his cum and leaving her a tired mess on the bed as they got dressed and left. 

You’re sitting in the corner of the room, feeling absolutely disheartened that Jieun would break the rules you had in place and never want to do this again. “Jieun…” You say, too depressed to even ask your question.

“Come here, I want more,” Jieun says in a tired voice. You look up to see Jieun spreading her folds, revealing the cum-coated cunt. You didn’t want to see her like this. It was a far departure from the woman you knew. 

When you didn’t come to her, Jieun crawled off the bed, staying on her knees as she approached you. She pulled out your cock and began sucking it. Her tongue lapped at it as if she was a hungry beast. Her hand stroked the base of your cock as she looked up at you. There was cum across her face, running down it as worked your cock. You couldn’t hold back, and came in her mouth, feeding her appetite. Jieun pulled away slowly, moving toward the bed and bending herself over it, shaking her ass for you. “Come on, baby. I want your cock.” 

You watch as cum runs down her leg and look at her ass; it’s bright red from John’s slaps. You stand up slowly and get behind Jieun, thrusting slowly and trying to recapture the feelings from the other night. “Harder, give it to me harder,” Jieun says in a depraved voice. Your heart dropped at that moment; she wasn’t the same person. You continue thrusting at your pace, eventually getting Jieun there. She lays on the bed, sleeping there as you head out for a walk. You try to digest everything you saw, believing she couldn’t change like that. You were just blowing things out of proportion.

When you return home, you find Jieun stepping out of the bathroom. “Honey! There you are.” She says, running over to hug you. “That was great, wasn’t it?” She says with a beaming smile. “I can’t wait to do it again.” You give her a half-hearted smile and sit on the couch in the living room. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You let out all your feelings. “I don’t want to do that again. Jieun, it hurt to see you like that, and you broke one of the rules. We said you weren’t going to let them cum inside. I-I just don’t want to do this again.” You say, tears forming in your eyes. Jieun sits next to you silently, patting your back. “This was a mistake; I want it to be just you and me.” She doesn’t say a word, just wrapping her arms around you and patting your back. You continued to explain your feelings on the subject until you exhausted yourself. 

During the night, Jieun thought to herself about what you said. Her thoughts slowly went back to how John and Al handled her; she reached down, fingering herself as she recalled it all. She couldn’t let it be a one-time thing; the temptation lingered in her. The next morning, you woke up on the couch, not feeling comfortable enough to sleep in your bed with Jieun. You wish her well as you head off to work. Jieun sits at home, talking with Han-na. “So, how was it? Did you both enjoy it?”

“It was great Han-na. John and Al did so many things to me. I felt so dirty.” Jieun says, her fingers moving to her slit as she imagines them taking her again. “They were so rough with me.”

“Yeah, they’re like that. What about your boyfriend? Did he enjoy it?”

Jieun pauses, knowing what the truth is. “Y-yeah, he enjoyed it too.”

“That’s great; most couples try it and figure out they can’t do it. It’s super important to respect each other’s feelings with this sort of thing, you know?” 

Jieun nods her head, “Yeah, very important.” A pang of guilt hits her as their conversation continues, and Jieun details what they did.

As days pass, Jieun increasingly thinks about the experience; the temptation is getting to her. You come home, opening the door, and calling out to Jieun. You don’t hear a response, but you hear something that makes your heart drop. Moans were coming from the bedroom. You approach slowly, hoping your mind is playing tricks on you. The door was open just a crack, but it was enough to send your world spiraling. You felt like throwing up as you saw Jieun being taken by John and Al; they were taking her ass and pussy. “Harder! I want more!” Jieun screamed. Her legs were wrapped around Al’s waist as he and John thrust into her. Jieun’s body was covered in sweat and semen; her hair was plastered to her forehead. “I’m cumming!” She moaned, “Fucking cum in me, give me it all.” She cried out. A moment later, she felt her whole body be filled with their cum; Al’s flooded her womb while John’s filled her guts.

You couldn’t control yourself; you started crying again. “How could you!” You yell from the other side of the door, refusing to look at her any longer.

Y+They ignored you. You could hear their moans continue, Jieun pleading for more. You repeat yourself, kicking the door open in frustration. She was still between their bodies, their cock sliding in and out of her. “I needed them. I want to be with them,” She moans before kissing Al. You can’t take it anymore and leave the house. They continued after you left, not caring one bit. You drown yourself in alcohol, knowing you were right; the woman you knew was gone. Your lovely girlfriend turned into a slut at the first sign of attention. You feel like ending it all. At that moment, you see Han-na walking into the bar. You get up and walk toward her, “It’s all your fault!” You yell at her, throwing the glass in your hand to the wall and breaking it. “Jieun and I were perfectly happy until you started spewing your shit about a wild bedroom. Now she’s out fucking other guys just because it felt good. It’s your damn fault!” You grab Han-na, shaking her violently as you vent your anger. Between it all, you begin to cry. You thought you would be with Jieun forever. That you would marry and have a family, but it all slipped between your fingers because you didn’t say anything.

Han-na recognizes the sadness in your eyes and lets you release your anger before taking you outside to a nearby park, where you spill your guts to her. She looks at you with pity, realizing the lies she was told. She ended her friendship with Jieun that day. You moved out soon after refusing to see Jieun any longer as you tried to rebuild your life. Han-na kept tabs on Jieun, watching as the pure girl you knew became a depraved woman. She had begun going out in skimpy clothing and fucking any man she could pick up. Han-na felt disgusted by herself for leading to this situation, and she tried to help you however she could. You couldn’t recover from the loss, though. It ate at you every day.

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt 6

Our car drives out of Tokyo, the once vibrant neon lights dimming in the rearview mirror. Inside the vehicle, a heavy silence hangs like a storm cloud. 

Bakugou sits rigid beside me, jaw clenched, staring straight ahead. Izuku, in the driver’s seat, occasionally glances at us through the rearview mirror, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

The bustling cityscape fades into the countryside, the stars now twinkling brightly against the night sky, freed from the city's light pollution. It’s been so long since I left the city, the last time was for our training camp at UA. What happened to us?

"Can someone please tell me what happened back there?" Izuku’s voice cuts through the silence, his eyes darting between us in the mirror.

Bakugou's grip tightens on his knees. I take a deep breath. "It’s complicated, Izuku. Katsuki and I... we’ve been going through some things." I sound like a mother breaking bad news to her child.

Izuku’s gaze shifts to Bakugou. "You two need to talk. This silence isn't helping anyone."

Bakugou scoffs. "Talk? She thinks I’ve been cheating on her."

Izuku's eyebrows shoot up, but he stays silent. For once, I’m grateful.

"You’ve been distant, Katsuki. Coming home late, missing our dates, disappearing for days. What else was I supposed to think?" My arms cross over my chest, frustration bubbling.

Bakugou sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You really think I'd do that to you? I’ve been hiding something, but it’s not what you think."

"What is it, then?" I question him, but he averts his gaze, staring out the window instead.

The landscape outside changes subtly, flat fields giving way to gentle hills and clusters of trees. Moonlight casts an eerie glow, illuminating our path.The car falls silent again, the tension thick as Izuku navigates through the dark roads. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Izuku turns down a dirt road, leading us to a modest house. Bakugou lets out a deep breath, his grip on the door handle tightening.

"Come on," he says gruffly, stepping out of the car and gesturing for me to follow. ‘

I follow Bakugou up the path to the house, my heart pounding in my chest. He stops at the door, fumbling with the keys before pushing it open. 

As we step inside, I take in the surroundings. The entrance hall is warmly lit by a small chandelier, casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floor. A plush rug lies beneath our feet, muffling our steps. The walls are adorned with tasteful art pieces, and a small table by the door holds a neatly arranged stack of mail and a decorative bowl for keys. I slip my shoes off next to him. 

Bakugou leads me into the living room, and I can't help but marvel at the space. It’s furnished and beautiful. The room is spacious yet cozy, with large windows that offer a view of a well-kept garden outside. A comfortable-looking sectional sofa dominates the room, adorned with an array of throw pillows in various shades of blue and gray. A coffee table sits in front of it, holding a few magazines and an empty vase. The walls are painted a soothing shade of light gray, complemented by dark wooden bookshelves filled with an assortment of books and knick-knacks.

A large flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall, and below it, a sleek entertainment center holds various electronics and neatly arranged DVDs. The soft hum of an air purifier is the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Everything is meticulously arranged, reflecting a sense of order and calm.

“I don’t understand what we’re doing here.” I tug on Bakugou's sleeve to get his attention, my frustration clear. The room is shrouded in dim light, with the moon casting its soft glow through the windows, painting the walls in a subtle hue of silver. “Why did you bring me into the middle of nowhere?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, his back towards me as he walks towards the large glass window overlooking the garden. The soft rustle of leaves and distant chirping of crickets create a serene backdrop to our conversation.

“Whose house is this?” I ask, my voice rising with a mix of confusion and anger.

"It's ours," he admits, turning around slowly, his voice low and strained. The moonlight catches the edges of his face, highlighting the contours and curves. "It was going to be the home we raised our children in."

My heart skips a beat as I process his words. "What are you talking about?" I press, confusion consuming me. "This isn’t our home."

He sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "When you got hurt, it was one of the few times I’ve been afraid." His voice cracks, and I can see his shoulders tremble. "The doctors didn’t know if you’d ever wake up."

I want to reach out, to comfort him, but I stay silent. He needs to get this out.

"When you opened your eyes and called my name," his voice wavers, tears spilling from his eyes, "I knew I wanted to spend eternity with you."

I’m stunned. "You’ve been planning this since then?"

"Six months ago, I bought the land. I picked up extra shifts to build this. Every detail, every corner, designed with you in mind. I wanted to build this home for us, to show you that I’m serious about our future.”

I look around the room with new eyes. Everything reflects my tastes. My heart aches with the realization of his efforts. The soft gray walls, the comfortable sectional sofa adorned with an array of throw pillows, the sleek coffee table—every detail reflects my preferences, my style. The thought of him working tirelessly to create this place tugs at my heart.

"You’ve been working on this for six months?" My voice softens as I slowly begin to understand..

"Yeah," he murmurs, regret mingling in his eyes. "I wanted to surprise you. To make up for all the times I’ve been absent. But I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to ruin it."

I know I should be ecstatic, but anger ignites within me. "You kept this from me while I worried we were falling apart? Do you know how that feels?"

His expression hardens. "I was doing it for us! To prove I could give you everything you ever wanted!"

"But I never asked for this!" I shout. "I just wanted you, Katsuki!"

"I was trying to make things better!" he yells back. "I thought if I finished this place, you’d see how much I care!"

"What do you want from me?" I scream, tears spilling over.

"I want you to be my wife!" His voice cracks, the raw emotion behind his words slicing through the tension in the air.

I stare at him, shock consuming all of my words.

"What?"

Without another word, he storms to a drawer, yanking it open with a force that rattles the whole dresser. He pulls out a small velvet box, his hands trembling. "I wanted to propose to you here, in the house I built with you in mind." he says, his voice barely above a whisper, yet charged with desperation. "I love you more than anything and if I don’t ask you now, I might not be able to later. 

Katsuki drops to one knee before me, holding out an engagement ring that catches the light with a mesmerizing sparkle. The band is a delicate, platinum twist, leading up to a stunning solitaire diamond, flawlessly cut and glistening like a fragment of a star. Smaller diamonds are embedded along the band, adding an extra layer of brilliance. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Will you marry me?"

Tears blur my vision. "Katsuki..."

The weight of Bakugou's words hangs in the air, his raw admission still echoing in my ears. As he kneels before me, holding out the ring, time seems to stand still. My heart races, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Shock, confusion, anger, and a glimmer of hope—all tangled together.

"No more secrets, no more running away. Just you and me, building our life together. Please, say you’ll be my wife."

I look down at him, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his face. His eyes are filled with a mixture of desperation and vulnerability that I’ve rarely seen. This strong, fierce man is baring his soul to me, and it breaks something inside me.

My hands tremble as I touch his face. "Yes, I’ll marry you."

Relief and joy light up his face as he slips the ring onto my finger. He pulls me into a tight embrace, the tension finally dissolving.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from mine. “I know I messed up. I thought I was doing the right thing, building this place for us. But I see now that I was wrong to keep it from you. I was afraid, afraid that I wasn’t enough, that I couldn’t give you what you needed.”

Tears blur my vision as I kneel down to be level with him, our faces inches apart. “All I ever wanted was you, Katsuki. Not some perfect house, not grand gestures. Just you.”

He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing away my tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, we just sit there, on the floor of this beautiful house, holding each other. The anger and hurt begin to melt away, replaced by a deep, aching love. The road ahead is still uncertain, but I can see a glimmer of the future we could have together.

[succubus-nini]

GIRL- ok first of all hello. So I was thinking of a fan fiction about Miguel x reader but Miguel is your parents’ close friend and you are at a ceremony all together after many years and he doesn’t take his eyes off of reader, so then they get alone and he fcks reader hard (not sure if you have already written one like this sorry if I didn’t see it) ❤️❤️

A/N-Im sorry it took me nearly a year to finish this babes

You and Miguel? You really didn't know, Miguel was only known by you because of your mother and father who favored him. It's funny actually, because they would always tell Miguel to watch out anytime he was near you. You were a wild child, always getting into something, and VERY MUCH petty. One time, Miguel had stepped on your precious (pet's name) paw, and you proceeded to make him think he was going insane the next three days by staying in his room and hiding whenever he checked.

He found out through you yourself, since you walked up to him one day with a sly grin. "How do you like my ghost act?" Were the words that made him connect the dots. Its safe to say he's over it, but he still checks his closet anytime he's going to bed because of it. You scarred the man for life. You haven't seen the man in years after your parents decided to move you to a place a couple cities away.

Your parent's fiftieth anniversary was approaching, and your aunts had planned a surprise party for when they got back, As you were helping prepare, you heard a familiar voice call your name. "Y/n?" Miguel said, his eyes wide in recognition. He hadn't seen you in a while, suddenly feeling his longing for you starting to sink back into his system as his heart raced upon seeing you again. So close to fuck touch but not yet, he'd have to control himself until the right moment.

You turned around and smiled, you had missed your favorite playmate. "Miguel!" You squealed, pouncing on the taller being. The man caught you and chuckled, putting you down. "Long time no see." He said, a joyous expression being seen in his eyes, even if his face said otherwise. "It has been! Did you miss me?" You questioned, leaning forward. Miguel caught sight of your cleavage from that specific motion, and started to blush.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I missed some of you, not your troublemaking ways." You rolled your eyes and shoved a box into his hands. "Well, in that case, You can go help in the house with the decorations, Miguel." You huffed, pretending to be mad as you kept setting up the tables. Miguel chuckled, seeing right through your façade, and went inside to talk with your uncle on what to do with the box of decorations he had.

Soon, your parents came back. When they entered the house, everybody jumped out and shot them with hand held confetti cannons, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" Everybody yelled enthusiastically, their smiles lighting up the room as your parents laughed and thanked everyone. Your cousins ushered your parents outside, everyone following behind them to get the party started.

While everyone else was dancing, Miguel was sitting on the sidelines, watching you while taking occasional sips of his drink. Every movement you made was memorizing to him, his eyes unable to leave your swaying form. After a bit, You got tired and went inside. You decides to stay in your room for a bit, since the dancing portion had stopped and everyone started fixing plates for themselves and others to eat.

Miguel had followed you inside, his head buzzing with thoughts about you. Unknowing to his intentions, you invited him into your room, sitting on your bed and getting comfortable as you turned the TV on. It wasn't long before he sat on the bed too, his eyes never fully leaving your form.

The room started to feel warm when you noticed his gaze on you, his eyes basically eating away at your being and undressing you before himself. You fanned yourself, trying to cool down your heating face. "Its a bit warm in here isn't it," You gently giggled, turning to Miguel. The larger man groaned and grabbed you, tugging you onto his lap before pressing his lips against your own.

If you were warm before, you were burning up now; Everything was so hot, his tongue inside your mouth as he pushed you down, his hands on your skin as he tugged your dress off and fondled your breasts, the air around him as his own clothes joined your dress on the floor. It was all so fuzzy, your brain couldn't even properly process what was happening until Miguel parted from your lips and made his way between your legs, leaving a kiss every inch he descended.

"Miguel not there.." You whined, tugging at his hair as he began to lap at your core, his tongue diving between your folds to bring your arousal into his mouth. You could tell he was good with his mouth just by the way we worked his tongue inside you all while using his lips to suck on your puffy clit. You felt a odd feeling, a tightening in your lower stomach. "M-Miguel..-" You stammered, trying to warn him but it was all in vain. You're cumming on his face before you know it, your head hitting your headboard with a thud as the pleasure washes over you in waves.

Miguel lifted his face to look at her before pressing another kiss to your face, you liquids still o his tongue. He had to prep you, he knew he was bigger than average and that you'd need something to help with the stretch. He had some lube in his bag, which was also on the floor, so he retrieved it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he poured some on your throbbing cunt, making sure his hand was coated as well before sinking a finger into your heat.

He soon sunk a second finger into you, working you open slowly but surely. When he was able to get a fourth finger into you, he was satisfied with his work. He stroked his cock a few times, preparing it for what's to come. He slowly pushes his tip into your entrance, groaning as he he went deeper inch by devastatingly delicious inch. "Oh Mi Alma.." He whispered in your ear when he bottomed out in you, staying still to let you adjust to his girth.

He waited for a sign from you, anything to let him know that you're ready. It wasn't long before he got the green light from you, immediately pulling out until the tip was the only thing inside and slamming into you. It felt so good to have you under him, to mark up and grab onto your soft skin as he ravaged you. He kept biting you on whatever he could reach while thrusting into your deepest parts. Your shoulders, throat, and breasts were all bitten and sore from his relentless attack on them.

He picked up the pace, ramming into you with such force you could barely breathe. He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to tighten around him and milk his cock for every drop he could give you. His hips moved roughly against yours, the sound of skin against skin getting louder as time passed. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin, his cock drilling into your abused cunt, his hands squeezing your hips was all too much for you.

Your legs shook as another orgasm crashed onto you, your hands grabbing at the sheets as a cry fell from your lips. Miguel was soon after, not lasting too long when he was getting squeezed by you. "Fuck.." He mumbled, gently pulling out and watching as his cum seeped from your hole. He had half a mind to plug you up again, but hearing a small whimper from you quickly snapped him out of it. He got up and dampened a rag from your bathroom, cleaning you up. When he finished his aftercare, he kissed your forehead, watching you sleep. "Te amo, alborotadora." He said before falling asleep with you in his arms.

[inawickedlittletown]

Rather Be The Hunter Than The Prey (BuckTommy) - 3/3

Summary: Buck doesn't tell Tommy immediately about the big change at the 118. Tommy decides to do something about it.

Author's note: Title comes from Natural by Imagine Dragons.

Everyone on Ao3 wanted a part two for the little coda I wrote post-episode 7x10. And I guess I did too. So now it's a three parter.

Part One - Part Two

Read on Ao3

-

“No,” Buck said. “Tommy, this is a horrible idea. You don’t know her.” 

Buck hadn’t even really told Tommy much about Taylor. Most of the LAFD knew her, though. If not for breaking the story about Jonah, then because of the book. She’d made her name in other ways too and Buck hated whenever he spotted her at a call or when he turned a tv on and she was on. He had succeeded in avoiding her for so long and didn’t want to bring her back now. 

“I’m just saying that we need her because she crosses lines. She’ll pursue the story once she knows there is one and she can help us take out Gerrard.” 

Buck didn’t think that Tommy really understood who Taylor was. He had listened to Tommy’s whole plan. He’d even taken notes as Tommy detailed everything he set in motion. He knew that Tommy was making sense, he was just a little wary about Taylor. He’d already made the mistake of trusting her in the past and this time around, they couldn’t afford her to go off the rails even if that was maybe exactly what they were counting on. 

“I guess maybe she does owe me one,” Buck said. “I’ll call and see if she will come meet with us.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Tommy said, smiling at him in a way that made Buck want to kiss him and maybe even drag him back up the stairs to his bed. 

He called after breakfast and after they had cleaned up his kitchen. Tommy was at his side, offering support. At least, Buck wasn’t the only one that had had to talk to an ex this morning. 

“Buckley, why are you calling me?” Taylor said. 

“Hey, Taylor,” Buck said. “I, uh, I was hoping we could meet up.”

She laughed at him. “If this is some kind of booty call, I’m not interested.”

“No…no, nothing like that. I’m…I’m dating someone. Listen, it’s about a story you could report on. It’s better if we explain in person. Are you free at all today?” 

“Yeah,” Taylor said after a pause. “I can be. What kind of story are we talking about?”

“Getting an awful man out of a job that puts him in a position of power that could determine life or death,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Taylor said. “That sounds…yeah, I can meet up.” 

They set up a time and Taylor agreed to meet at the loft even though Buck thought it might be weird for her. It didn’t seem to be probably exactly because of who Taylor was. He’d already piqued her interest and now nothing else mattered. 

It was a few hours later when Taylor knocked on his door. Buck braced himself for seeing her again. Then, he walked over to open the door. She was still Taylor. Her red hair was in loose ringlets that framed her face in a way that made her approachable and cute. She did look awkward for a moment, but then she smiled. 

“Hi.” 

“Uh, hi,” Buck said, letting her in. “Come in. Do you want a drink?” 

“Water,” she said and headed straight for the table, where she deposited her purse. “So what exactly is this—” Taylor trailed off. 

Holding the glass of water in hand, Buck turned. Taylor was turned towards the stairs where Tommy was making his way down. Buck almost laughed, because in a way he was getting used to seeing the reaction that people had to Tommy. He couldn’t blame them — couldn’t blame Taylor — Tommy was certainly eye-catching. 

He set her glass of water on the table and that seemed to break the spell.  She immediately turned to him, question in the raise of her eyebrow. 

“Tommy, Taylor’s here,” Buck said. 

“Thought I heard the door,” Tommy said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Casey says everyone he got in touch with is in.”

“Taylor, this is Tommy,” Buck said. 

“Hi,” Tommy said. 

Tommy offered his hand and Taylor shook it. She looked thrown and though Buck had seen Taylor in many different forms and states, this was still somewhat new. 

“Take a seat,” Tommy said. “Evan can start explaining.”

“Right,” Buck said and he motioned for Taylor to sit. She did, watching Buck carefully. 

“Bobby got replaced at the 118 through a series of circumstances,” Buck said and he explained it all, knowing that he was probably leaving out more than he should. 

Taylor drank some of her water before speaking once Buck was done. “Sounds like an asshole to me,” she said. “What does this have to do with me?” 

“Well,” Tommy said, taking his own seat. “We were hoping that you would help us expose Gerrard for exactly who he actually is.” 

Taylor leaned back in her chair. “You know, the last time I did a profile on the 118, the department shut it down. Made it into a fluff piece.” 

“And yet you still managed to use your connection to Evan to get that story on Greenway out, putting his job and reputation at risk,” Tommy said. 

Buck inhaled. He hadn’t expected Tommy to bring that up. 

Taylor had the decency to look contrite. She didn’t even try to defend herself. She did look from Tommy to Buck and back again. 

“Defensive, I like it,” she said in the end. 

“You also published an unapproved book about the LAFD,” Tommy pointed out. “I have the approval, or at least the consent of the Assistant Fire Chief,” Tommy revealed. “Well, to an extent.”

“Who even are you?” Taylor shot back. 

“My boyfriend,” Buck answered. 

Taylor laughed and laughed and then she clapped her hands. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. Maybe I should have, come to think of it. Alright, boys, I guess count me in.” 

It took a very long two weeks for everything to be worked out. Every shift that Buck had leading up to it made him antsy. He was glad when everything was finally in place. 

Chief Williams scheduled Taylor’s stop by the 118, including the invitation for Tommy to be there. She also made sure that Chief Simpson was available. Buck had helped to set up cameras to capture everything that went on with Gerrard in the time leading up to the interview. He’d had to be a bit sneaky about it, but Taylor had provided everything they needed. At Tommy’s instruction, he didn’t share their plan with anyone. It meant that the cameras captured everything as organically and as genuinely as they happened. 

Gerrard making a limp hand motion at Buck was right there as clear as day. Gerrard making a comment about Hen only lasting for so long because she was practically a man. His dismissiveness of Chim’s contributions as a paramedic when they lost someone on the way to the hospital. The way he berated Ravi and said stuff about how the department was going nowhere with the diversity hires. All of it was captured on camera and more. So much more. 

Eddie, Hen, and Chim thought it was ridiculous that Taylor Kelly was coming to interview them. Gerrard shared the news after returning from a call. Buck had to pretend that he was upset about it too and when Gerrard got wind that she was Buck’s ex-girlfriend, it seemed to make him want her there more. 

Buck had never seen him more welcoming of anyone, the way Gerrard was with Taylor. It was yet another big difference between him and Bobby. He treated Taylor like an honored guest, offering her coffee and water and showing her around with warmth that made him seem fatherly — or maybe grandfatherly considering his age. It was eerie. It almost made Buck doubt that the plan would work.  

Taylor took her time. Buck hated her a little for it, for how she asked them about the rescue of Bobby and Athena and how it felt to be rewarded for it. He could see how Hen and Chim took it all in as much good humor as they could muster. Eddie was monosyllabic. 

Then, she singled out Gerrard. 

“This is so pointless,” Chim said. 

They were in the kitchen. Buck had sort of steered them there. Hen had been throwing him a few looks as if she suspected something. Meanwhile, Taylor was with Gerrard, cameras pointed at him. She was keeping things light at first. 

Chief Williams and Chief Simpson hadn’t arrived. It was possible they wouldn’t, but Buck hoped they would. 

Tommy got there and they all saw how Gerrard stiffened when he walked up the stairs. 

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic. Well, some kind of demonstration outside. I think some people heard there were reporters here today.” 

“Some people?” Hen asked. 

Tommy didn’t answer. Buck just hoped the live feed was working, they’d figured it was better if Gerrard didn’t know other people were there to see it all.

At the table, Gerrard suddenly stood up. “What kind of question is that?” he said, louder than necessary. “Things were better when people knew their place. None of the quotas for diversity that need to be met so no one gets their tiny little feelings hurt.” 

“I just thought it’d feel great to have such an inclusive firehouse,” Taylor said. “To lead the 118 which I know is quite diverse and doesn’t look like what the fire department even in LA looked like in the past.” 

Gerrard just stared at her. 

“Of course, I do know you aren’t happy that diversity exists,” Taylor said. “I wonder why take the job at this house at all.”

“What are you talking about, girl?” 

“I’m talking about how you act around the people you are supposed to lead. The very same people that literally run into fires to protect the public who you in turn are supposed to support and protect and lead.”

Gerrard didn’t respond. His jaw was tightening. 

“Earlier today I posted a little preview for the interview. Just some of the things I’ve uncovered along with the many many complaints made against you by your own firefighters. Some investigating into your placement here also revealed a few things I’ll be looking into after this.” 

Buck watched Taylor a little bit in awe. Tommy was at his side and he felt the heat of him from how close they were standing. Ordinarily they wouldn’t stand so close, but it was nice to just rub it in, especially when Gerrard looked their way. How he glared at them like his eyes could set them on fire. 

“She’s really a spitfire, isn’t she,” Tommy said. 

“That wears off,” Buck said. 

“What?” 

“Being impressed by her.” 

Tommy laughed. 

“What is happening right now?” Ravi asked. 

“Someone needed to take out the trash,” Tommy said. 

“You said people were here?” Hen asked. 

“Do you know how many queer first responders there are in LA?” Tommy asked. 

It all happened quickly, in a way. Gerrard responded with anger and vitriol and demands that Taylor take her videos down once his demands to see them brought Taylor’s tablet out and ready. It wouldn’t even matter if she took them down, though, not with the reach that Taylor had these days and not with the work that had been put into getting them out into the wider public. Buck had even gotten Josh to share it over the dispatch twitter. 

Gerrard was still demanding Taylor take the videos off when he seemed to then realize that the videos had come from inside the firehouse. That’s when he turned on them. Rushing towards them, face red in anger. His eyes seemed to narrow on Tommy and Buck and how close they stood. Buck almost moved away, but Tommy didn’t let him. 

“Which one of you?” He asked. “Putting cameras in here without anyone’s consent? Spying! Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” Chim asked. 

“I’m your Captain,” Gerrard ground out. 

“Bobby is our Captain,” Hen said. 

Gerrard pointed his finger at Hen. “So, it was you!” 

Hen shook her head. “No, but I give props to whoever did it and I wish they had let me help.” 

“This is hostile! It’s an attack and a breach of—”

Gerrard was closer than ever, coming at Chim and Hen. Tommy stepped away from Buck. He got between them and Gerrard. Buck could see that it was taking everything for Tommy to do so and despite how big of a man he was literally and figuratively, this was still hard for him. Buck wanted nothing more than to step forward and offer him a hand to hold. He knew he couldn’t. Tommy had asked him not to if it came to it. 

“I did this,” Tommy said. 

His voice was little more than a whisper, but he cleared his throat. 

“No one deserves to work under you, to be belittled every day while doing a job that is already full of risk and that requires trust. No one needs to hear the vitriol that comes out of your mouth or the little motions because you think it’s only men like you that deserve to be here. They don’t. I won’t stand aside and let you do this to anyone. I won’t let you hurt them or put them in a position of getting hurt.” 

“Of course it’s you, Kinard. Still a coward, still a groveling people pleaser. Should have known you like to be down on your knees like the faggot you are.” 

Buck felt like his heart had gotten caught in his throat. His ears were ringing. He wanted to pull Tommy back, wrap him up in his arms at the same time as he wanted to just throw a punch. Buck heard a general gasp go around them and it was louder because it came from the people down below. Casey and everyone that had come with him. 

“None of you deserve to work here. In fact, none of you do. I will make sure this is the end of your careers with the LAFD,” Gerrard said. “You’re all fired.”  

“No,” Assistant Chief Williams said. “They are not.” 

They saw Gerrard’s face go from red to pale white. He sputtered, but no words came out. 

“Chief Williams is correct,” Chief Simpson said, at her heels. “I didn’t know why she insisted I come down here, but I’m glad she did. I see now I made a mistake in placing you here, Vincent.” 

Buck stepped towards Tommy, reaching for his hand and he felt Tommy grasp his tightly. 

It didn’t matter what Chief Simpson said to Taylor about what she could air, or how he wanted to handle things. Not with the crowd that Casey had gathered and not with all the things that Taylor had gotten up on Instagram and TikTok. He couldn’t put a stop to it, not even the spin that Taylor managed to put to things because as Buck had pointed out, Taylor wouldn’t just allow them to dictate things. This time, it was to their advantage. 

After all, it was Taylor that found the connection between Councilwoman Ortiz which became a much larger partly unrelated story. One that Taylor was hell bent on investigating. 

“She knew about him,” Taylor said to him as her camera man was packing up. “Ortiz asked him to put himself forward for this job. I just don’t know why.” 

Buck told her to talk to Hen and Karen. 

After it was all said and done and Bobby was reinstated as Captain, Buck found himself tucked into Tommy’s side out in Hen’s backyard where Hen and Karen were hosting the celebration for everything beginning to revert back to normal. 

“You’re a little bit scary, you know,” Chim said to Tommy.  

“Not really,” Karen put in. “He’s on our side.” 

“I just did what I wish I had been capable of doing a long time ago,” Tommy said. 

Buck kissed his shoulder. It was a little early, but he really did think he wanted to keep Tommy forever. 

[s0lar-ch3ri]

Paranomally Hotline #1: Introduction

Many people have their own beliefs. They follow in their own superstitions, read about all kinds of monsters, and we hear about new creations of creatures and places daily. Inspired from already set up and built legends, or entirely original myth, you may have made some ideas yourself. At the very least, you've heard of one. However, to the average person, a myth is all they remain.

Sometimes though, the average person isn't so lucky, and stumble apon a truth: these "tall tales" are fact, not fiction, and could come for you at anytime. With the knowledge that these creatures exist, surviving them can be difficult when nobody you turn to has an idea of what you're facing.

Not, unless, you're calling the Paranomally Hotline.

Specialized in dealing with all entities and creatures of out this world, the Paranomally Hotline believes those who call and will help guide you to safety. Available whenever you need (some places may have more or less then 24 hours available), someone skilled and trained for your kind of situation is there to talk to.

If you don't know who to call, ring the numbers-

"God damn, they play whatever on these fuckin things." A man, appearing about mid 30s, turns the TV off. He gets ready for work, brushing his teeth and getting food to eat. He waves goodbye to his wife, a woman with black hair, and walks into the busy sidewalks. Walking among the people, bag on his side, he keeps going until he reaches a corner.

The scene has changed. As he turns this corner, he runs, panicked, running out of breath. He can't run forever, and hiding feels like a death trap. A creature roars out behind him, and all he wants is to go home, back before this happened.

"Someone please come save me, Lord I beg of you now, spare my soul of this fate just a bit longer," he mutters to himself as he slips into an alleyway. Through his panicked thoughts, something slips into his mind, a crystal clear one: a phone number. As he turns on his phone, which he wasn't even aware still had battery, already has a number put in. Not in a state to question it, he hurriedly rings it.

"Hello, you've reached the Paranominally Hotline, here to help with all entities and paranormals, what's got your ghost?"

"Y-you gotta help me! Th-there's a- a thing! And it's chasing me! And- and- I just want to go home, see my wife again!"

"That's what we're going to do. Now, to help figure out how I can assist you, I'll need you to answer a couple questions. First, do you believe you are still in our world, or does it seem home to somewhere else?"

"Wha-what are y- Yeah, no, it- it's all red- the sky- and it's bleeding- oh my god I didn't notice, it's fucking bleeding- I gotta get out of here-"

"Alright, let's keep a level head sir. When did you get here, and if you remember, how?"

He jumped, hearing a loud roar from this creature. "T-today, maybe 3-30 minutes, 25, gi-give or take. I went into the closet at my job and- look, can we hurry this up? There's s-something ch-ch-chasing me, and I think it's going to k-kill me."

"Alright. This is a very necessary procress, but I have an idea on how to help. Can you make it back to where this closet was?"

"Th-that's the way the monster i- you're trying to fucking kill me!"

"Sir, please. I'm trying to get you home. If you can make it over, and I'm thinking of the right thing, grab the string of the lamp above and pull it to turn off the light."

"No- why should I fucking trust yo-"

Another roar plays out. It's closer.

"...Are-"

"If I’m fucking killed, call my wife and tell her I love her."

"Of course."

The man breaks into a sprint and heads out. His legs are aching, but he has to make it, he has to. Looking straight ahead, he goes straight past the beast, about 30 feet tall and blurry as it roars again, following behind. The man begins to silently sob as he sees the building he exited from up ahead. Running inside, he closes the door of the strange building and locks it as best as he can. He runs down a hallway, where a brown closet door awaits him. It's a dingy closet, brown shelves and a blue school chair. Nothing more or less. He slams the door shut as he hears breakage outside and the loud stomps of feet. Muttering a prayer, he grabs the string of the closet's lightbulb and yanks it down as hard as he can.

Everything goes black, but he finds himself on the floor of the closet. It's a storage one, filled with boxes and shelf racks, the same one he walked into, although one of the shelves has been knocked over just inches from where he once laid unconscious. As he questions what just happened, the reality of what he just faced, he hears his phone hang up, the caller name showing.

The Paranominally Hotline.

[devotedlystrangewizard]

id never say my mom was like. objectively correct in how she raised me. she fucked up a lot. but then i look at my stepbrother booting up the ps5 at 8 am knowing he wont turn it off until bedtime. not for a new release (which im guilty of having extensive playtimes in that situation) but for roblox & hello neighbor. and suddenly i am immensely grateful that she told me not to do that and supported my other interests

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[lxnarphase]

g. satoru who is a massive pervert and constantly whines for you to let him touch you all the time, even when you're both around others. you've lost count of how many times he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, his warm hands slipping under your shirt while sitting next to g. suguru, who's attention is no longer on the tv.

'he doesn't mind,' satoru always comforts you, grinning into the skin of your neck. 'sugu's my best friend, he knows i can't help but touch you, baby.'

best friend or not, that doesn't explain how you always ended up with your legs spread open wide in satoru's lap, your jeans and panties discarded somewhere on the floor as suguru kisses all over your thighs. the two of them talk like you aren't even there, as if you aren't growing wetter as each second passes.

"satoru," suguru purrs, his fingers running up and down your soft lips, parting them open to watch slick slowly drip out of you. "you must be doing something else to her. i've never seen it get wet so quickly." the way he speaks so calmly makes you dizzy. it's unfair, so fucking unfair how calm and collected suguru is when he's inches away from your pussy, those pretty purple eyes focused on it.

"yeah? 's wet?" it's also unfair how riled up it gets satoru, seeing his pretty baby getting shy because his best friend is rubbing his fingers up and down her slick folds. "she's so messy, isn't she? she's the prettiest little pussy," he coos into your ear. that gets a chuckle from suguru, his eyes finally looking at you. "always the one to talk to the pussy and not about it, aren't you, satoru?"

his fingers finally focus on your clit, rubbing little circles into it. both you and satoru look pretty from this angle, suguru notices. the pure need and shyness on your face paired with that manic desperation on satoru's...it's a perfect picture, one he wants saved forever. maybe next time you'll let him take some pictures...after all, he needs a new background for his phone.

"c'mooon, sugu...give her a kiss? c'mon, c'mon, give that cunt a kiss, tell me how sticky 'n' wet she is," satoru fucking begs, acting as if he's the one spread open and dripping. but you second the thought, giving suguru the prettiest little puppy eyes.

"anything for you, princess," he coos softly, leaning down and pressing a little kiss on your clit. it's so light you barely feel it but then he's peppering kisses on it, your wetness starting to get on his lips and making each press of his lips sticker and wetter. "s-sugu-!" before you can even beg for more, his mouth is on you. his tongue is so wet and hot on your cunt, it feels like he was drooling for you.

"does she taste good? how wet is she, suguru, c'mon, tell me, tell me how that pussy tastes, pretty please?"

"mm, satoru, it's almost as if you wanted to be between her legs."

"who wouldn't? she's so pretty, she's squirmin' so cutely, my pretty baby, my needy little mochi, her pussy's always so creamy and warm and messy, god, i miss it right now."

"shit...stop talking like that, you're gettin' me flustered, should i-"

"s-sugu, please, keep going," you so politely ask. it's unbearable how cute you are, it's taking everything in him to keep being nice, to keep treating your cunt nicely. he knows satoru is mean and practically bullies your pretty slit almost every day, but he wants to be the nice one, the one who you go to when your 'toru' is being too mean. yet, you're making it so fucking hard when you look at him with lidded eyes that beg him to be rougher with you...

but he knows he's done for when satoru whispers something in your ear that has your eyes fluttering a bit and gets a pretty little gasp from you. those gorgeous eyes—oh, do you have little tears in them too?—connect with his and he's fucked.

"s-suguuu, please," you coo to him, moving your legs to hook over his shoulders and pull him closer to the apex of your thighs. "i need your mouth on my pussy r-really bad, please don't tease me." you take a pause and squeeze your eyes shut, whining a little as satoru coos for you to keep going. "g-give my...my messy cunt attention, suguru..."

suguru shakily sighs and the next thing you know, his mouth is smushed against your pussy, his tongue hungrily swirling against your clit as his hands grab onto the fat of your thighs. he doesn't know what gojo told you in order to hear you say that, but he's silently thanking him as he messily sucks and slurps at your juicy cunt.

it's so hot, all it takes is a few swipes of his tongue and you're gushing everywhere. suguru lowers his head to dip into your hole and he moans. he missed this, missed the sweet taste of your juices on his tongue as you squirmed and moaned for him, your boyfriend's best friend.

"fuck, i-i can hear how wet she is," comes satoru's pitiful whine, his hand dipping down to swipe at your clit as suguru focused on lapping up everything that dripped out of you. "lemme help, lemme help, wanna help you get her creamy, sugu." the feeling of suguru groaning into your puffy folds has you keening, arching your back against satoru's chest. oh, he's in heaven watching you both. "yeah, you didn't know she could cream, didya? put your fingers in her, sugu, put 'em in that sticky little pussy 'n' angle up."

reluctantly pulling his mouth off you with a wet sound, suguru slips two of his fingers in you. he doesn't miss the cry of his name, but he really doesn't miss the delirious giggle and moan when he angles his fingers up, rubbing against that spongy spot.

"f-fuck, she's dripping..."

"go on, fuck her with your fingers, you know you wanna see her make a mess. make her fucking cream, suguru, get her prepped. maybe t'day she'll let you put it in...oh, based on your face, she just clenched on your fingers, yeah?"

his fingers are still swirling around your clit, his other coming down to press on your abdomen. he can hear you getting wetter, your little whimpers turning to moans as you slur their names desperately. he wants you to lose all thoughts, only able to think about him and suguru...yeah, he wants you all soft and sweet so he and his best friend can try and slip into those warm, slick walls.

"mmn...she's really creaming...god, pretty girl, can you cum for me? i wanna see you cum on my fingers. satoru, move your fingers, the poor thing needs my mouth on her."

"hmmm, suddenly you know what she needs? ehehehe, you're learninggg, suguruuuu!" if you had turned to look at satoru, you'd see the charged look in his eye, blue eyes practically glowing with insanity. his hand grabs a fistful of suguru's hair and pulls his face directly into your cunt, unable to handle any more of this. he wanted to see you cum on suguru's face.

"c'mon, c'mon, kiss it, suguru, make it messy for the both of us. mmh, fuck, listen to you making out with her pussy, s' wet and sticky, isn't it? oohmygod, both of you sound so good, she's gonna cum, sugu, she's gonna cum in your mouth...fuck, i love you both so much, can't wait to see you both fucking each other."

[astreids]

the day you and megumi broke up was the worst day of gojo satoru's life.

now, not only did he have to deal with a moody teenager at home, he also had to deal with you at school.

"what do you mean you both broke up?"

"it means we're no longer together."

"but — but WHY?"

"reasons," megumi deadpanned, not taking his eyes away from the tv in front of him. gojo watched him for a minute and when it became clear that the kid wasn't gonna cry and ask him for help so that he could win you back, he knew exactly what he had to do.

a few blocks away, you had just finished tearing up over a sad song which reminded you of your current predicament when your phone pinged with a new notification.

you reached over to dig your phone up from the pile of pillows thrown on your bed and almost threw it out of the window when the name 'sea urchin🥊💍' stared back up at you.

you snapped back from your trance when it pinged again — and again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore and opened the messages, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

sea urchin🥊💍

do u care bout me be honest

i am giving you 5 secs pls pls pls

take me back 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

if this doesn't work lemme try this

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

c'mon u have to take me back now it's only being NICE

i am going to sleep now last chance

come onnnnnnnnnn

hello this is his dad do u care about megumi

on the other side, gojo was furiously trying his best to make it seem like it was megumi who was texting you and so far, he was absolutely convinced that he was getting the hang of it. it was only when the phone buzzed with a new notification that his dream of mastering espionage was shattered.

girlfriend

megumi's vocab includes yes, no, fuck off, what the fuck and itadori NO

he will strangle u if u use emojis

nice try tho sensei

tell that mf to talk to me if he wants to

or wtv

is he ok

not that i care

make sure he sleeps early tonight bc he got that training thing tomorrow morning

again i do not care

also delete these messages

(thank u)

gojo looked up grinning from megumi's phone, his eyes locking on his kid. megumi was fast asleep on the couch, his head leaning back against the back of it. even from some distance, gojo could see the tiredness etched on his face and something else that made him so restless. and despite not seeing you, he could bet his entire fortune that you were the same way and it made is heart hurt, seeing the two kids he loved like his own hurt so horribly like this.

looking at the messages you sent and your obvious care of him, he was sure that you'd both be okay.

gojo was there to make sure of it. and if one of the reasons for doing it was because he didn't wanna deal with antsy and moody teenagers for god knows how long, well, that was no one's business but his own.

[miserycanary]

DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife

tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff

Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 

“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”

All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 

“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 

Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.

“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 

Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 

“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 

‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’

Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.

‘Definitely nuts!’

Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 

‘He’s too far gone’

“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I don’ know, princess.”

Meanwhile…

“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.

“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.

Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[sceletaflores]

A Different Kind of Compensation.

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part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

[jeongin-lvr]

ᙏ̤̫ ˘˘˘   txt reactions when another member likes you (nsfw)

𓈃 ★ YEONJUN

He’s such a smug bitch about it; obviously he’s jealous but the way he shows it is surreal. He’s clingier when Taehyun is around, grabbing your wrists and waist despite protests and plopping you in his lap, making eye contact with the boy just to see his reaction. Taehyun only watches albeit longingly. Yeonjun on the other hand practically laughs in the boys face, kissing your shoulder blade just to make you squirm and hiss at him. He finds it funny that anyone would even bother to like you because he makes it so obvious that you’re his and no one else could ever have you! That’s what he thinks, of course. Yeonjun makes it a point to brag about you on purpose to Taehyun and everyone else who would listen; talking about how pretty you look when he’s fucking you, the way your eyes tear up as you gag on his dick. Yeonjun knows it makes Taehyun tick. That’s why he does it.

It’s a particular night when all the boys are together, even Taehyun, the TV playing some nonsense show that you were already forgetting. You couldn’t focus on it as Yeonjun played with your puffy, wet folds beneath the warm confines of your blanket. Your back against his firm chest, trying to regulate your breathing and stifle your moans into his arm. The other boys were either half asleep or too engrossed in the show to care. But Yeonjun catches the eye of Taehyun just as he was slipping his first finger into you, making your face scrunch and mouth fall wide. Taehyun isn’t stupid; he knows what you two are doing under the sheets, and there’s really nothing he can do about it so he bites his lip. Yeonjun only smirks and flicks his hand toward the TV, signaling to Taehyun to mind his damn business.

“Baby… almost got us caught. Little thing all pent up and whiny… shhh, Tyunnie might hear you. We can’t have that, no, no. He’d want a piece of you and I wouldn’t let him. You’re fuckin’ mine, pretty.”

𓈃 ★ SOOBIN

At first he’s calm. He barely even acknowledges the idea when Beomgyu first confessed to him about his crush on you. Soobin simply shrugs it off and tells the younger boy to not beat himself up about it, giving him a nonchalant smile and walking off. What actually makes him jealous is the sight of you and Beomgyu together; it would’ve been innocent had it not been for Beomgyu running a shy hand along your arm, then quickly wiping something from your cheek. And Soobin has no idea why he’s so angry at this. He doesn’t get jealous— it’s unlike him. But it’s you. How could he not be? The boy is quick to come between you and Beomgyu, literally squeezing his tall frame between the two of you with a phony smile towards the younger. He clicks his tongue and turns to you, as if to give a warning to Beomgyu, telling him to, respectfully, fuck off.

When Soobin tells you all of this you’re practically laughing at him. He pouts and folds his arms over his chest, sinking into the sofa. He couldn’t help it when it came to you; he just couldn’t let Beomgyu even be near you anymore. You slot yourself over his lap, tucking your cheek in his neck, still giggling at his jealousy. You’ve never seen him like this, pouty like a little kid and visibly jealous. So you decide to take the initiative and slot yourself onto his lap, holding his cheeks before kissing away the jealousy. It was fluffy and soft until the kisses got messier and he was openly panting into your open mouth, holding you down over his bulge as he whimpered nasty thinks against your lips.

“I gotta… ah, I gotta fuck you— please, baby, don’t make me beg. Ohhh, need it— no, I need you. Need to know you’re mine.

𓈃 ★ BEOMGYU

What a little monster. He makes sure everyone knows you’re his— even if that means marking your neck so hard it hurts too much to even cover in makeup, or taking you ok the bathroom corner at someone else’s house. Was it feral and maybe even a little nasty? Yes. But he was addicted to the idea of Yeonjun, his best friend who he always caught staring at you, hearing everything the two of you did. Beomgyu saw how Yeonjun stared at you, longing in his eyes and nervous breathes when you caught his gaze, giving a nonchalant smile. Beomgyu was by no means jealous, he was cocky. Which was worse for both Yeonjun and yourself.

When Beomgyu told you that you two would be spending the night at Yeonjun’s because of some video game related event, you could already sense what he was thinking. Teasing you all night, purposely showing you off, the bites and bruises upon your delicate skin. You weren’t even surprised when he spent the first 10 minutes before walking up to Yeonjun’s apartment kissing you until you were too flustered to speak coherently. When he pulled back and saw your lips red and puffy, a mess of spit on your chin, he was satisfied. But that wasn’t the end of it at all, giving you one last peck before smirking and hopping to your side to let you out. The rest of the night was spent with Beomgyu and Yeonjun on the couch, yelling at the TV screen as they lost or won. You had forgotten entirely about Beomgyu’s behavior. All up until it was time to sleep, finally. You and Beomgyu were warming up on the couch, your eyes growing heavy until you felt his hand slither down your torso and under the waistband of your panties. Yeonjun, who was just in the other room, unknowing. You protested half-heartedly, gripping his wrist as he found your cute clit, chuckling as he could practically feel the way you gushed for him. Before he sunk two fingers into your empty hole, he whispered nasty words into your ear, telling you to stay quiet or he’d stop.

“That’s it. Oh, you’re soaked, baby. No, no be quiet. Unless you want Yeonjun to hear… that’s what I thought. Imagine what he’d think if he saw you all wet and whiny for his best friend. Hah, you’re so bad at hiding how turned on you are, babe.”

𓈃 ★ TAEHYUN

When Taehyun finds out, via Yeonjun, that Kai had a massive crush on you he laughs. His younger friend has a pathetic crush on Taehyun’s oblivious girlfriend? It’s laughable. But he doesn’t make it a point to be extra touchy with you; he isn’t kissing you extra long or holding your waist a little tighter in the presence of Kai. He does, however, opt to observe the younger male. Taehyun sees how he bites his lip and puts a pillow over his crotch around you. And you were so fucking oblivious to Kai’s perverted behavior that it made Taehyun chuckle, kissing your cheek like it was a reward for being air-headed. Taehyun often finds himself getting turned on seeing someone pine over you so desperately, so shamelessly. It’s not jealousy at all; rather it’s cockiness.

It’s in the dorms when Taehyun hears the most interesting sound; what sounded to be a whiny Kai in his room— what shocks him is the fact that he’s moaning your name, the wet sound of his cock in hand making Taehyun’s eyes widen and heart race quicken. He immediately smirks, silently strutting down the hall to find you sitting unknowingly in his bed, innocently playing with your hair as he approaches with meaning in every step. You didn’t even protest when he quickly grabbed your jaw and forced your lips onto his, raking his hands up and down your waist. He’s mumbling into your mouth as he pulls you down, your bodies flat against the other as things instantly get messy. It’s like you’re floating when he doesn’t even wait a second to lift your leg over his shoulder and rub his bulge against your hot pussy. The sound of Kai in the other room isn’t as audible from where you two are; it’s just the fact that Taehyun knows what he’s doing behind those walls. Thinking about you while he gets you all to himself gives him some sort of weird power trip and all he can do is groan. You hear Kai whining behind the wall too now, and you would care if you weren’t being fucked brain dead by your possessive, perfect boyfriend.

“Babydoll, you’re all for me, yeah? Kai is in the other room thinking about you— meanwhile, I get the real fucking thing. I own this perfect pussy— it’s mine. He’s pathetic thinking about you like that, right, sweetheart?”

𓈃 ★ HUENINGKAI

Hear me out… Kai is the most jealous of them all!! Kai hates it when other men even look at you, he hates it when they stare because he knows what goes on in their brains. But it’s the worst when he finds out Soobin has the biggest crush on you; it drives him mad. Kai is a sweetheart, but he’s a jealous sweetheart. He will find ways to cut between you and Soobin if he thinks you’re getting too close. Kai will press you to his chest and even grope your ass if he’s feeling extra bold. There’s been instances when the group would hang out and Kai would whisper to you that Soobin was staring at you— to which you reply with a pitiful smile —and soon enough he’d sitting you on his lap to cover his boner. He can’t help it! All he wants to do is show him you’re his! Kai is jealous and a big pervert in situations like these. He knows it and you know it and, honestly, neither of you are ashamed.

Kai pressed you down onto the cold marble of your kitchen, his belt loop cold against your hot skin. The two of you had barely gotten into the apartment when he was kissing your neck and pulling your clothes off. It was a long night out with the rest of the boys— all of you had gone to an Internet cafe, you opting to instead sit on Kai’s lap and watch everyone play. But Kai couldn’t focus when your ass was rubbing against his cock. He is too down bad for you to not get hard the moment he feels you like that; especially when right next to the two of you sat a silently longing Soobin. His big eyes on the two of you as you squirmed on his lap. Soobin saw the way you situated yourself lewdly on Kai’s pretty thigh, hiding you flushed face in his neck as Kai silently wished for an excuse to leave with you. The worst part is Kai knew the entire time of Soobin’s wandering eye and it made the entire situation hotter, at least to him. It wasn’t a surprise when the two of you quickly ran out of the cafe, exclaiming about an emergency before you were off. But Soobin knew, he saw the entire thing! Kai pressed you harder into the marble at the thought, gritting his teeth and pressing his stomach to your back, sweat clinging to the two of you. He was nasty with his words, entailing and describing every little detail about how he wanted Soobin to watch the two of you; how he wanted to invite him over to see how good you are for him and how you could only take Kai’s cock because you’re his little slut. His perverted fantasy seems to be mutual when you squeeze around him so tight he felt suffocated.

“Oh, yeah? You like that? Soobin coming over to w-watch you get fucked? Maybe I should call him, huh? You’re so nasty, baby, love it. F-fuck, he saw how you were grinding down on me earlier, baby… he liked watching y-you like that.”

[ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ] 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾：𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝟦 𝖺𝗆 𝖻𝖼 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗅𝗆𝖿𝖺𝗈𝗈 😭

[babyleostuff]

when their strong independent s/o suddenly wants to be babied | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

oh, he’d love that. as much of a baby as he is, cheol adores taking care of people that he loves, especially you, and especially because you’re never the one to lean on others or ask for help. so the second he notices you’re a lot more touchy and that your gaze follows him everywhere, his arms are wrapped around you in an instant, and he’s asking if you need any food, water, more pillows, or if the TV is too loud, while running his hand gently through your hair. he would never tell you this, but he’d be so thankful to you that you trusted him enough to let your guard down around him and allow yourself to depend on him a bit more sometimes (if it was his way, he’d like you to be a bit less independent, because he knows how tiresome it sometimes is, but nonetheless, cheol would always be there for you).

❥ jeonghan 

he’s already babying you, even when you're being your cold and independent self. he doesn’t care that you want to open that jar, he’s going to take it out of your hands and do it himself. you’re sitting on the couch while watching a movie with a popcorn bowl separating you? no problem, jeonghan moves it out of the way and pulls you down, so you could rest on his chest, while he’s throwing a blanket around you. he doesn’t do that because he thinks you’re incapable of taking care of yourself - he knows you can, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t depend on him. besides, when he notices how exhausted you are but still doesn't want to depend on someone else, it makes him angry. so, be as independent as you wish, jeonghan is still going to baby the shit out of you. 

❥ joshua

same as jeonghan, you’re already getting that princess treatment, darling. but unlike hannie, joshua does that unconsciously - he doesn’t pay attention to the way he pets your hair whenever you succeed in something, how he grabs your waist to move you out of the way, so that he could reach for that plate, or how he always made sure you’d walk on the inner side of the sidewalk. he knew you were an independent, strong person, but he wouldn’t let you carry all of your burdens yourself, and he’d try to help you in any way he could to make it a bit easier for you. whenever you got a bit more baby around him, joshua would activate his physical touch and cling to you like a koala, because he knew how much, deep down, you enjoyed his clingy, and puppy like side.

❥ jun 

give him a second, because he’s freaking out. will turn into the fluffiest fluffball to ever fluff, because he wants nothing more than to make you happy when you’re in need of a bit more love and comfort. but before smothering you with his kisses and cuddles, jun makes sure you’re feeling fine mentally and physically - he sits you down, takes your hands in his, and when you assure him that you just need to be taken care of for a bit, he goes into teddy bear mode. He loves it when you depend on him, when you snuggle a bit closer to him in search for warmth, when you follow him around everywhere, when you link your pinky fingers when you’re out for a stroll. 

❥ hoshi 

giggling and kicking his feet. this man lives for taking care of you, even if his methods are sometimes a bit questionable. he loves your independent side, soonyoung finds it so cool that you are able to take such good care of yourself, but it makes him sulk sometimes, because “why don’t you depend on me a bit more?” so, whenever you are in baby mode, he tries to make the most of it - hug the shit out of you, follow you wherever he can, squish your cheeks, and call you corny pet names that would usually make you puke. but he would also be a bit more protective over you whenever you let your guard down like that, because he knew you were extra vulnerable in times like these. so, he’d bundle the both of you into a blanket burrito, and hide you from the world for a while. 

❥ wonwoo 

silently screaming, crying, throwing up. you are just as independent as he is, and sometimes he worries that you don’t consider him someone you can depend on or lean on. that’s why moments like these - when you are a bit more clingy and touchy, when you play with his hair a lot more, when you come waddling into his room with a blanket around you to sit beside him and watch him game - it reassures him that he does a good job as a boyfriend, and he tries his best to comfort you, without making you feel like you’re being weak for letting your guard for a bit. the biggest reward for him was when you fell asleep next to him while he was reading you a book in bed. 

❥ woozi 

in the past, woozi was a bit insecure about being the caregiver - he wasn’t sure he was the person you needed to baby you, or give you extra comfort and love. but after you made multiple threats, and changed his password to his studio, he kind of got the idea that yes, he was the person you needed. woozi secretly loved how you leaned on him from time to time, it gave him a peace of mind that you could rest a bit in his presence, and let go of your strong persona, and just be your adorable, little self. he always kept extra blankets in his studio in case you came pouting and asking for cuddles, so he could always have something to wrap around you and keep you warm. 

❥ dk 

endless cuddles incoming. once he notices that you want to be taken care of and babied, there is no way he’s going to let go of you. even if you’d want to get up for a glass of water, worry not, your puppy of a boyfriend would be right behind you, his (buff) arms wrapped securely around your waist, just in case you tried to get away from him. but he’d also understand that you usually acted like this when you were emotionally and physically tired, so he would make sure to talk to you, and comfort you in any way you needed (even though you insisted that cuddles were enough, he knew you were silently asking for a couple of kisses, and for him to sing to you, so you could finally rest without worry). 

❥ mingyu 

puppy nr. 2. the second he’d see you following him with a pout on your face, he’d know it was his time to put on his best husband act, and baby the shit out of you. he’d lift you up without saying anything (giggling in his mingoo giggles), carry you to the kitchen, place you on the counter, stand between your legs, playfully peck your lips, and get ready to make you your favourite ramyeon. mingyu would make a total fool out of himself just to make you laugh, because to him, as long as you were happy and smiling, it was all that mattered. after eating, he’d bundle you up in the most oversized hoodie he owned, wrap you up in a blanket, and put on a scary movie, just so he could cuddle you really, really, really close (his eyes were closed for the whole duration of the movie). 

❥ minghao 

cue in heart eyes. hao’s acts of service or physical touch were always low-key - you always knew he was there for you, but he didn’t push his love into other people’s faces. but, when you needed to be babied, when you needed that extra warmth and comfort form your boyfriend, minghao was always more happy than to turn into your personal teddy bear. he loved how independent you were, it made him so proud that you could take care of yourself, but at the same time it made him worry that you were draining yourself too much. that’s why when you needed to be babied, YOU WERE BABIED. whatever you’d ask for, he’d do it in an instant, no questions asked - it could be the most stupid thing and he’d do it with a smile on his face. 

❥ seungkwan 

mom mode activated. at first he’d get a bit worried that you were acting a lot more baby with him, letting him hug you without side eyeing him, or letting him squish your cheeks without you throwing a tantrum. but after he’d catch on to what was going on, seungkwan would make you sit at the dinner table while frantically looking through the cabinets searching for your favourite ramyeon. after making you some food, and not burning the house down, he’d take you out on a walk around the neighbourhood, your arms linked, while he rambled about all of the funny stuff that happened during practice, to take your mind off of your worries. when you were in baby mode, you and him were like two magnets - you could not be separated, and even if you were, you immediately found your way back to each other.     

❥ vernon 

first of all, it would make him feel so appreciated that you turned to him when you needed to be babied. vernon didn’t get to be the caregiver often, but whenever he’d notice that you needed a bit more comfort and love than usual, he’d try his best, because he wanted to be someone you could always depend on. you’d either do something very calming and relaxing like cuddle under a blanket and watch a movie, or if you were feeling more bold, you’d bake (which with vernon means one thing - a disaster). whatever you decided to do, vernon made sure to always stay by your side, his hand on you hip, because you in baby mode also required him to include a bit more of physical touch, which to be honest he was very grateful for, because usually he was too shy to initiate it himself.  

❥ chan 

he’s been waiting for this. i believe chan thrives off of being the caretaker, so he’d be prepared and ready - pillows stacked up on your bed, comforters to keep you warm, all of your favourite snacks and movies, and his arms to keep you close to his body through the whole night. because he didn’t get to baby you often, he’d make the most out of the times that it happened, and it would honestly make him so so happy that even though you’re this strong and independent person, you still allowed him to take care of you from time to time. he’d finally be able to thank you for all of the times that you had taken care of him.

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[roosterforme]

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

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

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

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

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List

Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.

Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.

Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)

Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader

❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.

❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.

❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)

❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.

❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.

❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.

"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.

You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.

"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.

To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.

❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.

❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.

❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.

❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.

❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.

"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.

"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.

"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.

❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.

❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.

❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)

"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.

"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.

The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.

"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.

❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.

Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie