#the way the left side is so cramped and the right side is trying so hard lmao

[tojisun]

sun!! i hope you’re doing well sweetheart <3

i’m on my period and feeling miserable :( i’m just imagining biker!simon and his big warm hands massaging my lower back and being my personal heating pad

i feel like he’d be so doting and sweet…and i just know his cuddles are IMMACULATE

my goodness my beloved im sorry for how late my reply to this is!! i hope ur feeling a whole lot better today :(( and that u were able to rest well hhhhh

no ur right!!! big man like simon gives out good hugs!! just, warm and comforting over all <33 // biker!simon mlist

simon leaves as soon as he can, your message still bright in his mind – im dying lol.

“Not on my watch,” is what simon replied, trying to be playful if only to distract you from your pain.

he says his goodbyes to his friends, waves at john who tells him he’ll close up the shop and that simon doesn’t have to worry about it, before walking towards the parking lot. he snags his helmet, snaps it on, and hefts himself on top of his bike.

he traces the initials engraved on his gloves before bringing up his hand to the mouth of his helmet and presses it in lieu of a kiss. then he’s off, the purr of his engine smooth as he whips against the wind.

simon’s left you on his bed today, bundled up in his sweater and underneath the blankets. you’ve been teary-eyed as you bid him goodbye, trying to assure him that your period’s not kicking your ass.

“just go, si,” you said, huffing when simon continued to stand by the edge of the bed, hesitating.

“i don’t wanna leave you when y’r like this, sweetheart,” he replied, bending down just enough to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye.

“you can’t just skip work, y’know?”

“if it’s for you, i can.”

it wasn’t a lie – you two knew this – but you insisted, giggling, and told him to just remember to bring snacks when he returns home. he kissed you goodbye and drove off.

simon didn’t forget his promise, of course. his bag’s full of chocolates and cookies and a pack of electrolyte drinks. he knew the medicine cabinet was stocked but simon got extra pain medications – for cramping and nausea – in case you needed more.

johnny had seen simon’s grocery bag and asked that simon tell you that johnny’s wishing you to get well soon. then, kyle and john overheard and they gave simon the extra ladyfingers stored in the break room.

simon parks his bike and almost stumbles on his feet when he lurched out of his bike. he speeds through the stairs, thundering footsteps echoing, before tearing through the fire escape door.

he fumbles for his keys, steps into his apartment, and has just enough coherence to remember to toe his shoes off, place his helmet on the counter, snag his gloves off, and wash his hands. then, simon’s back in his room. back where you are.

you’re still buried underneath his quilt, curled into yourself. simon would have cooed at how little space you are taking up on his bed but he hears you whine, exhausted face peeking out of the quilt, before weary eyes meet his own.

“i’m home, sweetheart,” he breathes out, watching as your face breaks out into a smile.

“hey there, baby,” you reply, shuffling until he sees you lift a corner of the sheets for him to crawl in.

simon doesn’t even care that he’s still in his work clothes, not when your pretty eyes are pleading him to slip in and finally cuddle with you. so he drops his bag and takes his jacket off, before slipping underneath the quilt and sliding beside you.

you’re blinking up at him as he settles in, your warm palms reaching up to caress his cool face. he hears the faint hum that rumbles from your throat and simon huffs a fond laugh at the small smile tickling your lips.

“how do you want me, love?” he asks, his own hands claiming their rightful place by your waist. he rubs at your sides the way he knows you want – smooth glides with just enough pressure, grounding you into him.

“spoonin’,” you whisper, sniffing, before turning away from him with your mind made up.

simon laughs, pressing the quiet puffs of it on the back of your head as you shimmy towards him, pressing your back to his chest, before falling putty with a quiet sigh. he loops his arm around your waist, the heavy weight of his palm falling just underneath your belly.

“lift y’r head up a bit,” simon murmurs, humming when he slots his other arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. “good girl,” he murmurs as you fall back into him.

simon fixes the sheets as you shuffle closer again, nuzzling your face onto his arm with a pleased grumble, and he barks a laugh at your sudden sneeze.

“shit, sorry,” you croak out, hiding your face behind your palms.

simon laughs. “don’t be, sweetheart.” he kisses the back of your head again. “feelin’ better?”

“a bit,” you reply, and simon trembles when he feels your fingers glide along his arm. “now that you’re here.”

jesus. you sure know how to make him ache with the weight of his love, huh sweetheart?

IT GOT TOO LONG IM SORRY!! but yea :(( i hope u are feeling better luv <333

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

burned

percy jackson x gn! reader — you’re all alone in an alley in NYC. what could go wrong??

tw — violence

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You’re cold.

You’re cold and afraid, shaking in an alley somewhere in downtown New York.

You try to think about camp. About the rolling hills, the sweet strawberries, the campfire. About your friends, about target practice, the climbing walls.

Percy should be here. He should’ve been here— you check your watch — fifteen minutes ago. But he’s not, and your thoughts are running wild.

The wind howls louder. You shut your eyes.

The wound on your leg stings. You’re coiled around it, hunched forward in a meager attempt to shield it from whatever. Meet back here in 30, you’d told him. He nodded; you drew your dagger and he lifted riptide out of its sheath. And then you went separate ways, a desperate attempt to get the monsters off your trail, to confuse them by being in two places at once. It’d worked, partially, and you would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he’s not here. So you’re not fine.

There’s a commotion at the mouth of the alley, and your head snaps up.

A woman stumbles into view, smartly dressed with long blonde hair down to her waist. She notices you, and you freeze.

“Excuse me, do you have a map? I just can’t seem to—”

“y/n, no!”

Percy’s voice echoes off the walls, and your heart drops at his audible panic.

Her smile turns from airheaded to sinister. Fangs peek over her bottom lip.

Multiple things happen at once.

You lunge forward, dagger in hand, but she grabs your wrist with a vice grip. She squeezes, and squeezes, and you’re certain she’s going to snap your wrist in half when Percy rushes in, almost runs headfirst into the brick wall.

She wrenches the knife from your hand and turns it on you. Percy lifts riptide. You stumble backwards; the tip of riptide shines through her chest.

Two blades are thrusted forward. Twin gasps of pain meet your ears.

One of them sounds suspiciously like you.

The woman dissolves, dust flaking away to reveal Percy, breathing hard. His face is bruised. It’s upsetting, even though you really should be used to it by now. You just wish he would get hurt less.

Something throbs under your ribs. It feels like a cramp, but it gets worse and worse until it burns, You’re burning—

Your knees buckle and Percy runs to you. Your head doesn’t hit the ground, so you assume he caught you.

The entire left side of you is on fire. You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.

The delicate skin around his eye is blooming an angry red. You reach out for it weakly, and he winces when your knuckle brushes the bruise.

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly.

Percy gently grabs your hand, lowers it from his face. “I’m okay,” he soothes. “I’m right here.”

Why does he feel so far away then?

His hands move again. You’re still cold.

Your eyes flutter, tongue lead in your mouth. You realize with dim fascination that he’s cradling your face. It’d be quite intimate if your vision wasn’t darkening at the edges.

“You’re gonna be okay. They’re almost here. Just… just stay with me.”

You have so many questions. Who’s they? Why are his hands so warm?

Percy’s looking at you with a fear in his eyes that shakes you to your very bones. His eyes rake over your face as if he’ll never see you again. You still don't understand. All you know is the sinking feeling in your chest, the creeping nothing in the corners of your eyes, and the dull ache in your side.

You don't remember closing your eyes, but you do remember Percy shaking you.

“y/n,” he pleads, voice trembling in a way that you haven't heard before. “It’s alright. Just open your eyes for me, yeah? Please— please.”

He’s shivering. You feel absolutely horrible about the whole ordeal, despite your very limited understanding of the situation. You want to assure him it’ll probably be fine, that you’ll bounce back because you guys always bounce back, but this time you’re not sure.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp, the words sandpaper in your throat.

The darkness swallows you whole.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

lmk if I should write a part two? I dunno if anyone will read it

[pshcomforts]

➳ only | psh. — requested

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“be my only one”

synopsis: you get your period on an unexpected day, and find your boyfriend, park sunghoon, a little more annoying than usual when he comes home early from practice.

warnings/content: written in third pov. slightly angsty but more fluffy fluff! sunghoon’s down bad <3 and reader has a lot of mood swings. reader’s a little mean. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.9k

a/n: message request. — this was a little rushed so i’m sorry if it’s not that good </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: only by leehi

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:40 ─────────|────────── -2:19

“are you kidding me?” y/n annoyingly huffed at the sight in front of her.

her stomach furiously grumbled as she sighed and reached for a pad in the cabinet drawer.

“i actually started.., great!” she sarcastically beamed with an eye roll to herself, ignoring the small amount of pads left.

a quick change of undergarments was made in the bathroom, making her feel ever so slightly better about starting her period.

the girl left the bathroom and almost instantly, was hit with a mound of cramps. her hands quickly clenched onto her abdomen, face scrunching in pain while trying to find some sort of pain killer.

swiftly, she downed the pills as if her life depended on it, all while getting a text notification in the process. her head peeked over and found her boyfriend’s messages.

hoonie 🫂:

Hey gorgeous, you there?

Text me back, I’m bored at practice ㅋㅋㅋ

a slight eye roll was taken from y/n, and she was sure she could blame her period for it, but she was annoyed for no reason.

she did feel bad for feeling this way because sunghoon didn’t even do anything wrong but, the girl just started, could you blame her?

she softly grumbled out a sigh, responding to not make him worry.

after sending a message, she shut her phone off, pouting in defeat of the discomfort that took over her body.

“maybe a nap will help..,”

her body laid down on the couch and within seconds, she was out like a light.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the day was ending soon, and with his busy schedule, sunghoon was still far from coming home (or so she thought).

y/n had awoken from her nap hours ago but in all, it didn’t help.

if anything, it just made her more grouchy than before; and sunghoon would have to deal with that soon.

or much sooner.

the doorknob quickly rustled as if someone was fighting it, confusing the girl on the opposing side before it creaked open to her boyfriend.

“hoonie?? why are you here?” her brows raised to depict her puzzled look, causing a light chuckle to deplete out of him.

“i just missed you, baby.” his low voice murmured out, lips curling into a hot grin.

maybe it was her hormones, but the way he played out that smile had her replay it in her head multiple times.

“didn’t you miss me?” sunghoon croaked out.

and just like that, her love for the boy disappeared.

not entirely, but her hormones pushed her to be more annoyed than gushy.

y/n shook her head, turning away instead of hugging her boyfriend who was longing for it after all day.

hoon gave a faint grin, mind almost catching onto her reasoning.

“come on, y/n, don’t leave me like that.” his hands snaked around her waist, emitting butterflies while she only shook her head.

“not right now, hoon,” she firmly mewled out.

‘so grumpy today,’ he mindlessly said in his own head.

“what’s wrong, baby?” his voice was low, sending shivers down her spine as she simply huffed out a sigh.

“i started my period, hoon. my cramps are hurting me.”

y/n didn’t hear a peep out of the boy until a soft chuckle slipped in through her ears.

“you know..,” sunghoon caught up to her, letting his hands wrap around her waist to pull her in. “i actually left practice early because my stomach was hurting. i think i might be a little sick..”

his grip attempted to tighten around her but she pushed his hands away with a small whine.

“that’s not funny hoon, i’m really in pain here.”

the girl crossed her arms with slightly furrowed brows, indicating that she wasn’t liking any of this teasing mess that she usually liked.

“gorgeous, i swear.. i’m not…,”

she watched her boyfriend clench onto his stomach with a scrunched face.

“hoonie, you better not be messing with me.” she murmured in a displeased look.

sunghoon gave a faint grin at her words. “i’m not, but maybe a little kiss will make me feel better?”

his lips puckered and he slightly leaned in, expecting an easy and simple kiss — only to hear a quiet scoff slip by his girl’s lips.

you know the feeling when you get grossed out by everything and anything when you’re on your period? yeah, y/n got that.

she quickly turnt her head, dodging the kiss.

“y/n.. come on,” sunghoon whined, pouty lips going on display again. “i need a kiss to feel better.”

she groaned out a sigh whilst looking at her handsome boyfriend. he was gorgeous, but the upset feeling still fueled her mood swings.

“don’t make fun of my cramps,” she murmured, walking away to the room with tears filling her eyes.

her emotions were out of the place because she started her period, could you blame her for tearing up?

sunghoon huffed out a sigh as he watched his girlfriend leave the scene before feeling his tummy gurgle again.

he whimpered in slight pain, holding his stomach as he slumped down on the couch.

“i really wanted that kiss,” the male cutely pouted to himself, resting in the living room to give y/n space.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours after their little spat, the girl escaped from their bedroom and into the bathroom to do a pad change — only to encounter the worst.

no more pads.

a groan escaped from her lips as her head dropped low in defeat.

sunghoon watched her leave the bathroom and walk up to him with her lips formed into a thin line, displaying her awkward smile.

“hoonie?”

“yeah, pretty girl?”

“ineedpads,” she quickly muffled out, causing a chortle to erupt out of him.

“slower, y/n, i barely understood that.” he flashed a wide grin at her, almost making her fold at his attractive feature.

“i.. need pads.”

“are you still mad at me?” hoon lightly teased, fangs shining in his charming smile.

“no… i just need pads..,” her head dropped low in shame as she tried to not let her mood swings get the best of her. “please, sunghoon.”

the boy attempted to bite back his smile at the little plead she let out, but how could he deny his girlfriend?

she was his weakness.

“come on, let’s go.”

he stood up, grasping her hands and leaving the apartment to head to the convenience store.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

arriving upon the store, y/n hurriedly ran to the hygiene section while hoon chuckled in his hidden mask and hovered hoodie, searching for various snacks.

her eyes scanned through each brand, looking for the right one before finding it.

“here it is!” she quietly beamed to herself, walking around to finally search for her boyfriend.

she soon reached the medicine aisle where sunghoon stood, a few heated pads and tasty treats loved by his girl were in his hands while looking for ibuprofen.

her heart melted at the sight. every small thing she found slightly annoying of him because of her period was gone in an instant.

she couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

y/n opened her mouth to call his name but figured she probably shouldn’t with his famous background of being an idol, so she walked over to him instead.

but when she found the bottle of ibuprofen in his hands already, she found herself worried and confused.

‘is he really sick?’ her concerned eyes scanned his hidden face that was still focused on the sight in front of him.

“hey,” she softly poked his forearm. “are you really sick?”

sunghoon turned to his girlfriend who was deemed bothered at his state of health.

“i’m okay, gorgeous, my stomach just kind of hurts.”

he tried to laugh it off but y/n only furrowed her brows. “why didn’t you tell me that your stomach was actually upset?”

the boy huffed out another laugh before giving a soft ruffle at her hair. “it’s okay, you were upset so i didn’t want to bother you even more.”

not letting her respond, his hands grasped onto hers to lead her towards the cashier as she quietly fumed to herself, feeling guilty.

sunghoon thanked the employee before exiting out of the store with his favorite person, finally walking home.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the entire walk, y/n stayed quiet to herself, replaying how she completely dismissed his pain because of hers.

when they got to their apartment, sunghoon quietly sighed.

“okay, baby, what’s wrong?” he softly asked with the bag still in his hands.

“i’m sorry..,” she quietly peeped, turning around with her head down in shame — gaining a laugh to come from him.

“why are you sorry, y/n? you didn’t do anything.”

he approached the sad girl, lifting her head up with his hands pushing her cheeks to look at him. he found her with tears already streaming down and he couldn’t help but feel a gush of love over his heart.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take your stomach ache seriously, i don’t know why i did that..,”

sunghoon’s inner lips curled at her words. “y/n, it’s okay, you started your period, i understand.”

“shut up sunghoon! it’s not okay! and now i’m crying and i don’t know why i’m crying!” she fumed, letting her tears drop more. “and now you’re in more pain because of me!”

her hands fisted, softly hitting his shoulders out of instinct as he laughed to himself, heart warming at her little guilt.

“y/n,” he called, but she ignored him, not meeting his gaze.

a sigh left his throat as he continued, “gorgeous, can you please look at me?”

hesitantly, the girl raised her head and immediately felt his lips peck hers.

“i’m okay, okay? yes, my stomach hurts but i got medicine for a reason. i’ll be okay,” he pressed another kiss onto her nose temple, hearing her breath hitch as he grinned once more.

y/n softly pouted, pushing him away out of instinct. “i’m still sorry... so.., i’m gonna make you some rice porridge so you can feel better.”

she walked away to the kitchen, wiping her last tears before feeling his hands snake around her waist like earlier.

“you’d make me feel better, you know that?” sunghoon whispered into her ears as his height towered over hers.

“rice porridge would, actually, so sit down and wait until it’s done.”

“but i want cuddles,” he pouted, thumbs rubbing around her stomach area.

“you are sick because you get clingy when you do.”

his head dug further into her shoulders, taking in her scent he loved so much while chuckling.

“you know me so well.”

“i do, now will you please go wait on the couch? i want you to rest.”

she turned to face him, only to find the boy with his usual pouty lips.

“i want you to rest too, you know?”

he beamed an ear-to-ear grin before she playfully rolled her eyes.

“i know, hoonie, but you’re the sick one.”

“but-“

“wait on the couch until the rice porridge is done, and then we can cuddle all you want okay?” she intruded, letting him sigh in defeat.

sunghoon returned himself on the sofa, allowing his girlfriend to take care of him like she wanted.

after a few more fusses, the night eventually ended with the two concluding that hoon had gotten food poisoning.

so after connecting the dots of how, they ended up falling asleep on the furniture in each others arms — both snuggly fit as they were already feeling better in the presence of each other.

✩ ‘my only one’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[murdrdocs]

II most wanted.

slightly suggestive content; implied oral (f receiving) southern!luke w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

thinking about riding shotgun with luke in a beat up truck, the one thing his father left for him. that one good and worthy thing his father left for him. refusing to see that his father could do good, luke believes that the chipped powder blue chevy, sweetly named jolene, was his doing, not his father. luke has worked tirelessly to take the hunk of clunk into something worthwhile. something he loves.

you're sitting in the passenger seat for once and not in the center. your head was previously laying on the crotch of luke’s faded blue jeans, but you now sit with your head resting on the headrest, your lower half at a slightly awkward angle to allow your feet to dangle out of the window. it feels good enough to ignore the cramp in your side and the pain in your lower back.

there's some song playing through the speakers of the truck. you've heard it enough times to hum along to it, but your stubbornness keeps you from asking for the name. luke sings along too, his voice a nice mix of smooth and scratchy in ways he can't control, but it still makes a beautiful symphony. his fingers thump against the worn leather of the steering wheel in time with the beats, adding in a few drum fills in between that you can easily see him replicating on his set in his detached garage.

the road in front of you is desolate. a windy backroad that he knows as well as the back of his hands. it's a two laner, meant for luke's truck and another to pass by each other without a second glance. but at this time in the evening, most people are home with their families, leaving the road all alone for you and luke. he drives in the center, the large wheels of his truck and the lifted cab making you feel like you're on a throne. like you're invincible as luke's truck straddles the weathered yellow center line.

you don't know where you're heading. maybe the diner just on the outskirts of town, shealy's. that one that always hosts truck drivers that are either too kind for their own heart, or too misguided when they try to mess with you, completely unknowing of the substance foreign to their feeble brains coursing through luke's veins. (on the nights where luke lost control, when the wrath got control of him, you would be the one to tend to his shiner and hide him in your room until he was unscarred enough to face his worrying mother.)

you turn to face him, watching his overgrown curls whip around his face from the wind. he's a little tanner, a distinct farmers tan on his arms from the work he's picked up over the summer. he's a little buffer too, surely from the way he's been working both on mr. sease’s land throughout the week and in his mother's garden on sunday's, a place he previously hadn't frequented much but he's been going there more since you encouraged it.

you take your feet out from the window to nudge your big toe into luke's thigh, gathering his attention. he slows to a stop sign, in the right lane this time, and turns the volume down enough to hear you.

he hums, turning to look at you with something so particular to him in his eyes. lovesick, your brain tells you. but the thought makes you turn all giggly and you try to hide your smile.

there isn't anyone else at the four way stop, so luke sits and takes his time. he looks at you. he's looking at you. your stomach turns and you suddenly really need a coke or sweet tea to cool you down.

"shealy’s?" you ask, your voice a little hopeful even though it doesn't need to be. it's rare that luke denies you of anything, especially the banana pudding that he knows you like at the diner.

"'course," he tells you. "your mom's not cooking tonight?"

you know how much luke loves your mom's cooking. but tomorrow is sunday, and he'll have more food than he knows what to do with by then.

you shake your head.

"shealy's it is then." he turns to face the road, places a hand over your calf, and speeds towards the diner.

later in the night, when you're back at your place and luke is ready to spend yet another night with you, you kiss him with a banana pudding flavored tongue. you're loaded up on hearty food and too-sweet treats, a quarter full container of banana pudding in the fridge and a half finished milkshake on your nightstand as testaments. it was originally luke's, but what's his is yours at this point in your relationship.

the pressure in your stomach makes you feel a little sick, but the desire deep in your abdomen and the sudden emptiness between your legs prevails past the food-induced pain. you straddle his hips, much like how you were positioned not too long ago in his truck. but the freedom of space in your bed allows for more range of motion. the space of your bed allows luke to lay you on your back, and slide down between your legs.

still, it's really nothing unlike what you've been able to do in the cab of his truck, too.

[topgun-imagines]

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

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[vanteguccir]

I like your face | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N has had a crush on Matt for years but hid her feelings out of fear. She just didn't expect Matt to feel the same way about her.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I'm so sorry if this sucks 😭😭😭 I wrote it with a huge headache and cramps, so it's probably horrible, I'm really sorry, lovelies ;(

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The sounds of random music and different audio from TikTok echoed through the four walls of Matt's room.

The brunette was lying in the center of his double bed, his torso lightly supported on the headboard, above his fluffy pillow, while his right arm was half raised and supported on the bed by his elbow.

His hand held his phone up tightly while his thumb scrolled through the screen, double-clicking on it every now and then, liking some videos. His left hand was on Y/N's back, who was in her favorite and most comfortable position; on top of Matt.

Y/N had her body lying completely on the boy's body, her chest pressed against his while her legs rested against the mattress and between Matt's open ones. Her head was lying on his left shoulder, right in the crook of his neck, her hair tickling his jaw and chin every time she moved it, sometimes to watch one of the videos, but mostly just to admire his features.

The girl had a huge crush on Matt and that wasn't news to anyone. Although she never talked about it, everyone saw the way she acted around him through her body language - that spoke louder than any words could -, except Matt himself.

But he wasn't the only oblivious one among the two. Although he didn't make his years-long crush on the girl so apparent as she did - even while trying not to -, he liked her just as much.

Y/N watched Matt's varying reactions closely and attentively to each different video, her eyes scanning his features carefully, getting lost in each line of expression. Her pupils carried a glow that only appeared when she looked at him, shining bright.

Her right hand was raised over Matt's cheek, her fingertips lightly caressing his smooth skin, tracing every line she could see, and the ones she couldn't too - she had all of them already memorized and embedded in her mind.

She was completely sure that Matt was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen; every trait and habit of his captivated her, as much as his aura, which was so calm and sincere that it made her want to never leave his side again. Just the thought made her smile like a fool, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by the brunette.

"Why are you smiling like that, hm? You're not even watching the TikToks." Matt asked, his voice came out slightly hoarse from lack of use and the laziness that hugged his body like a light blanket, caused by the extremely comfortable and warm position.

"Hm? Nothing, I'm just thinking." Y/N smiled shyly, lowering her gaze, suddenly feeling small under the boy's gaze.

"Want to talk about it?" Matt frowned in a mix of curiosity and concern, locking the screen of his phone and throwing it aside, focusing fully on the girl above him.

“I just…" Y/N paused, a sigh escaping her mouth before her teeth caught her bottom lip in a light grip, mentally pondering whether she should answer him truthfully or not.

Matt remained silent, looking at her with a calming gaze, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, passing her security and comfort.

The low, yellow lights of Matt's room illuminated him perfectly, kissing his skin so that it glowed, his most beautiful features standing out, taking the girl's breath away. Without even realizing it, her mouth opened slightly in awe, losing her trail of thoughts as her orbs traveled over the boy's little details.

The way his longs eyelashes caressed his own cheeks every time he blinked made her want to pass her fingers over them, while his roguish smile pulled light wrinkles at the corner of his lips, that seeming to call out for Y/N's lips.

"I just like your face." The whisper escaped her mouth before her mind even processed what she was about to say, the tips of her fingers gently caressing the space between his eyebrows, running down the bridge of his nose slowly.

Her eyes automatically widened in surprise a few seconds after hearing her own voice utter the words she had never before planned to even say out loud, her movements stopping abruptly.

Matt's calming smile turned into an amused one, his blue eyes traveling over the small reactions Y/N's features displayed in response. He slightly lifted his chin up, touching the tip of his nose to the tip of Y/N's fingers, which she had lightly moved away from his skin after getting the shock of reality.

"I mean, I don't like your face- no, wait, I do, it's beautiful for you, every detail fits you perfectly, I just-"

Matt rolled his eyes playfully before slightly lifting his torso, sealing his lips over Y/N's gently, shushing her instantly. A surprised sound escaped the girl's throat, her mind racing at high speed, trying to process what was happening before finally giving in.

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, her right hand - which was previously caressing the skin of Matt's face - traveled to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the curly strands, massaging the area lightly, eliciting a nasal sigh from him.

The brunette's warm tongue caressed her bottom lip momentarily, asking for entrance, which was quickly granted. Their tongues intertwined in an infectious dance.

Y/N's left palm rested on Matt's chest, lifting her upper body slightly, generating more access to the kiss. Matt's hands squeezed her waist, his thumb running under the fabric of her t-shirt, caressing the warm skin of her bare hip gently.

When the air ran out, Matt slowly pulled away, his blue eyes analyzing Y/N's reactions closely. A smile stretched across his cheeks when he saw her eyes still closed, her lips parted as she pushed her chin forward slightly, searching for his touch blindly.

"I like your face too."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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[xxblairexxss]

Revenge

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst

I needed something that would break my heart and shred it to pieces so I came up with this.

“Charles?”

“Yes, chérie.” He had fallen asleep face down on the couch as soon as he came home. The meeting with the team was supposed to take 2-3 hours but it ended up taking half a day so he had to rush home because he had another interview next morning. You felt so bad waking him up but your period had came early and you ran out of heating pad and tampons.

“Can you head to the store—“

“Can’t it wait?” You could clearly see he was annoyed and your words became a murmur. “I just came back not even for 30 minutes.”

“I know, but…”

“I’ll get whatever you need tomorrow, chérie. Let me sleep. Please.”

So you let him be.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your period cramp was getting worse and you desperately needed a heating pad, a painkiller, and anything that would help to soothe the pain. Your head was throbbing, you felt nauseous, laying down felt wrong, standing up made it worse. You tried to wake up your boyfriend but again, before you could say anything, he had left the room and locked himself in the guest room so you won’t be able to disturb his sleep. And you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You changed into an oversized sweatshirts and short yoga pants then walked out of the apartment. You couldn’t drive and it was better to have to walk for 25 minutes than to crash into someone else’s car.

You had always loved an evening stroll around the city but you would always feel anxious if your boyfriend wasn’t with you. Which was why you couldn’t go by yourself in the first place.

The walk was a pleasant one. Much to your surprise. You saw a group of people who had just finished their night shifts, a number of tourists taking pictures, and just full of humans being humans. You had reached the store in no time and got yourself some pain-relievers and a new heating pad.

“Thank you! You are Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” The old man asked as he put the items into a plastic bag.

“Ah, yes.” You were surprised as you didn’t really get this kind of question a lot.

“I knew it. I have seen you guys together a few times. Such a beautiful couple.” He handed you the plastic bag.

“Ah, thank you. I’ll get going first. Have a pleasant night, sir.” You took the items from his hand and started making your way back, trailing the steps you took all the way home.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Move away!”

Things would have ended in a perfect way if it wasn’t for a random man who came from the upper side of the road. He didn’t get to hit on the break before crashing on you. You saw him coming your way but before you could moved away, he and his bike had already fallen on top of you. The pedal from the bicycle was still gliding as it crashed on you, causing the sharp bit to cut the skin on your knee. The hit sent you to fall on your back and you were trying to stop the fall but the crash was too hard that you could feel a huge pressure on your wrist as it landed on the pavement. The bicycle handle then hit on your forehead as it fell so now you had a bruise on your forehead and a cut on the side of your lips from the sudden punch from the man as he tried to stop himself from falling on his face.

“I’m so so sorry. I’m really sorry, miss.” The guy started scrambling to stand up and offered a hand to pull you up to a stance.

“Ow..” You immediately retracted your right hand when you felt the jolt of pain as he pulled on it.

“Oh, no I think you might have sprained your wrist. Give me your other hand. I’m so sorry my brake wasn’t working I really thought I could turn away before crashing on you.” He pulled you on your left hand which made you stand on both of your feet now. “You are bleeding. There’s a clinic nearby, I’ll take you there.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles were woken up when his throat was dry and he was parched. It was when he turned his body to the side was when he recalled that he had left you because you woke him up a while ago. Guilt started to fill up his heart as he stood up and left the guest room. He was expecting to see you on the bed but he was greeted with an empty one.

“Shit…” He whispered and ran to get his phone to call you. Much to his dismay, the call went straight to your voicemail. “Fuck! Where are you, Y/N.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Oh, my. What happened to you, pretty girl.” The old man from the store earlier was surprised when you walked back into the store now looking like you were beaten up for the past 20 minutes.

“I’m so sorry for bugging you, sir. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call my boyfriend.” You had walked back into the store with the man who crashed into you, Lucas was the name as he went to buy a drinking water for you and waited outside as you made your call.

“Hello?” You heard your boyfriend’s voice through the phone. It was a relief he would picked up a call from a random number.

“Charles..” You tried to speak without crying but failed as your eyes started tearing up even before you could explain to him.

“Y/N? Where are you?” You could hear him getting restless.

“I am at the store down the street. Can you come and get me?”

“Stay. I’ll be there in 5.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles was staggered when he saw you full of cuts and bruises. Your sweatshirts had some bloodstain on it and you were still sobbing.

When he took you home, he didn’t say anything but you knew he was mad because he kept on biting the inside of his cheeks and he only did that when he was furious.

“What was that for, Y/N?” He slammed the door as you walked in.

“I was just trying to…” You sniffed softly and wiped your wet cheeks with your sleeves, unable to look at him in the eyes.

“You were trying to what? Playing games with me? Or is this some kind of revenge because I didn’t want to go to the store to get your what? Chocolate? You couldn’t even fucking wait until tomorrow?” You took a step back when he kept on raising his voice, your hand that was holding the plastic bag was shaking within every sob.

“I’m sorry…” You sniffled again, eyes still looking on the floor.

“Or was it your plan though? To embarrass me like that in front of everyone? To show everyone how bad of a boyfriend I am?” He stepped closer and for the first time, you were scared of him.

“What happened to your phone?”

“It ran out of battery..” You mumbled.

“Great. Now you are telling me it was a coincidence? That you just fucking left the house with a dead phone? It wasn’t because you tried to make it harder for me to find you? He threw his car key away to which you flinched.

“I can’t believe you would go that far just because you couldn’t get what you want. You are fucking spoil.” Charles was dazed by his own words. He didn’t know what had gotten into him but he was so tired and he expected you to understand him instead of pulling a show at 3AM. But he didn’t thought he would blow up to this extend. He regretted saying every words he had thrown to you but when he thought back about those looks he got from the strangers when he went to pick you up, he was demented with anger again thinking that you were secretly smiling at how successful your plan were to get back at him.

You looked up to him in shock at his words, your tears are now flowing non stop you didn’t even bother to wipe them off. “I…” Charles cut you off before you could say anything.

“Just go and change your clothes, Y/N. We are done here. Go!” He yelled out and you scurried to the bathroom to wash your face, leaving the plastic bag on the dining table.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Charles on the bed. He had his arm covering his eyes. He wasn’t asleep yet because you could still see how tense he was so you tried to take your change of clothes in silent before quickly head out of the room.

Charles thought you would have climbed on the side of the bed to sleep. But he didn’t think you would leave the room. First thing that came to his mind was the guest room. He thought you were so upset with him that you chose to sleep in the guest room. He couldn‘t understand why you were upset now. Obviously he was the one who should be mad. He wasn’t the one who went to that extend to play revenge. You started it first.

But he didn’t hear the door close. You could never sleep with the door open. Charles only heard the soft sound of a coffee mug hitting the other glasses. It was so soft and slow, as if you were trying to hide the sound from him.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

It was hard to do things with one hand. The doctor had to wrap your wrist with a bandage because the sprain was really bad. You couldn’t even use your right hand. Even taking yourself a glass of water was a difficult task but you needed to take the pain-reliever pill or you won’t be able to sleep. Your head was still hurting. Every part of your body was in pain but it wasn‘t as much as the pain of your heart. You were still crying, sobbing, but you tried to hide every sniffle in case Charles would yell at you again.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles saw the way you were struggling to take out the pill, some sort of medicine with one hand and he could feel his heart clenching in pain. Why would you go this far just because he couldn’t go to the store. Why would you even hurt yourself just to make him feel bad. He was upset that you could do this to yourself just to wreak vengeance on him. He watched you struggled to drink from the mug and still chose to wash it off as you cleaned the table and even put his car key away, the key that he thrown away in anger earlier. He saw you struggled to walk, trying not to put much weight on the leg with the cut and hurried back to the room before you could see him.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles walked back out when he heard you finally closed the door to the guest room and went back to the kitchen to check on the medicine that he saw you took earlier. Soon as he saw what was inside the plastic bag, he felt like there was a tons of rock being thrown on him at one time. It was a pain-reliever for a period cramp and an opened box of a heating pad. You didn’t go to the store just to play revenge on him, it wasn’t for a game. You went to get these things. He knew you always had a bad cramp and a migraine on your period but it wasn’t supposed to come until another 2 weeks. He had it saved in his calendar every month. You had asked him to go to the store earlier to get you these things because you couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t for chocolate. He couldn’t believe what just happened. He had just yelled at his girlfriend who was in pain. He didn’t give you any space to explain anything. Now he knew why you weren’t saying anything else and just accepted everything that he said. You just wanted him to stop yelling so you could sleep the pain away. He would prefer you to shout at him back, curse at him, hit him, punch him, whatever it was. Perhaps that way it wouldn’t hurt him this much when he knew the truth.

He was a fucking asshole.

He had messed things up very bad and there was no way he could fix this up but he needed to. He couldn’t lose you.

[missmeinyourbones]

hi, congrats on ur milestone! can i request gojo with #2 from the midnights prompts list from lavender haze? thank u!

ALL THIS SHIT IT NEW TO ME (s. gojo)

a/n: reader is on their period, satoru calls reader sweet girl and m'lady once, suggestive towards the end with mentions of pregnancy and period sex

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Your phone vibrates against the wood of the bedside table.

"Hello?"

Sounding slightly out of breath, Satoru immediately responds on the other side of the call.

"Hi."

Silence takes over the line as he refuses to elaborate any further on his reason for calling. Between whatever the hell he's playing at right now and the dull sensation of what feels like clawing inside of your abdomen, your patience wears thin.

Your second greeting comes less friendly, "Hello?"

"Are you okay?" he instantly asks.

Is he on drugs?

Satoru can practically see your teeth gritting on the other end of the line as you sigh and take a moment to collect your thoughts. With an exhausted and irritated tone, you scoff.

"Are you okay?"

"Your text," he softly points out.

You sigh. Satoru had left early this morning for work, as he usually does. It wasn't until you woke up late with a massive migraine and familiar ache in your stomach that you realized you started your period. It being a bit early this month, you were out of tampons and naively texted your boyfriend to pick you up some his way home.

You should've known it seemed a bit too easy when he merely replied with a thumbs-up.

Fingers pressing the bridge of your nose, you do your best to stay somewhat pleasant.

"…What about it?"

"I'm at the store now," Satoru states the obvious. You can hear the diluted commotion of other shoppers around him, the sound of items being scanned and shopping carts being steered.

He may mean well, but you're failing to see the purpose of his call, "And you're calling me because…?"

"This is such a scary aisle," he says beneath his breath, but you hear him all the same.

You can practically see his pout of cluelessness as he stands before the aisle, hand on hip and sighs, "There's so many… things going on."

"I sent you a picture of the box, Satoru," your eyes instinctually roll back like muscle memory. A cramp hits you a bit harder than the rest and you wince, desperate for his help, "Please, I'll Venmo you."

You hear a muffled scoff from the other line, "No, that's not what I mean. Never say that again."

"Then what do you mean?"

Walking the line between being in over his head and weirdly intrigued, Satoru hums to himself.

"There's like… a million options."

Your hand flexes in on itself in irritation, nails leaving crescents on your palm when you bite, "It's really not that hard when I sent you a visual aid."

"All this shit is new to me," his voice gets muffled a bit and you can tell he's wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear.

You hear the sound of plastic being fondled when he innocently asks, "There's sizes? What size are you?"

"It's not a size thing, Satoru—"

He interrupts you, "It says there's different settings—”

"Settings?" You're going to kill him.

"Yeah," he responds too casually for the situation. "Regular, super, super plus. What the fuck is ultra?"

It's borderline comical, the way you look up to the ceiling in disbelief. If there's a god in heaven, he'll make it so Satoru hangs up the damn phone and gets his ass back in the car within the next minute.

"Like I said in the text," your tone is cold and irritated, "the regular ones are fine."

It's silent for a beat when Satoru whispers, "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean am I sure?" you try not to spit venom. "I've only been doing this for over ten years."

"I mean, I'm pretty big though, and—”

"This is so different, oh my god," you groan, head in hands. "Get the regular ones."

More rustling of plastic and shuffling ensues. "Okay, okay, getting the regular ones. Damn, they make you pay for these?"

"Yes, Satoru," you hiss through a clenched jaw. "Anything else or can I hang up on you now?"

You hear him moving, and you can only pray that it's towards the checkout area, when he breathes, "Actually, yeah.”

You should've known not to ask, as Satoru readjusts his grip on his phone and smoothly taunts, "Are you more likely to get pregnant on your period? Asking for a very interested friend."

The sound of the call ending is his cue to swipe his card.

…

Not long after and in the middle of his lunch break, Satoru arrives home.

He's all smiles when he knocks on the half-open bedroom door, and he sympathetically smirks when he's met with your icy glare and bedhead.

He presents the plastic bag of goodies with a dramatic bow, “M'lady."

"Thank you," grumbles from your lips as you practically snatch it from his hand.

Satoru sits on the edge of the bed next to your limp body, "Anything for you, sweet girl."

His hand finds your tender side as he rubs gentle and warm circles on your skin, a weak attempt to ease any pain of yours he can. He leans back on his palm as he watches you rustle through the bag.

"Got you some other stuff, too," he says, hand finding your hair and gently scratching your head.

It's sweet of him, really. Your usual box of tampons sits on top of the items, followed by a few of your favorite candies and one of those makeshift heating pads shaped like a stuffed animal. You already have about five of them, but it's the thought that counts.

Feeling yourself ease up at his good intentions, you go to thank him—but another package at the bottom of the bag has you glaring at him.

"Satoru…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Condoms?" you hold out an unopened box of his favorite brand and toss them his way.

"Oh, yeah," he moves the hand in your hair down to your neck, stroking its side softly.

His breath is warm on your skin when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to the spot he knows you like beneath your ear. Though you huff at the insinuation, he doesn't miss how you shiver a bit beneath his lips.

"During my lengthy and extensive research, I read that sex can help cramps," he declares proudly, nudging your throat with the tip of his nose.

“Who were you keeping that detail from, hmm?"

[yukimiyaz]

THANKFUL

miya osamu x gn!reader

includes: bf osamu. afab!reader. smut lol. he uses a shit ton of pet names. he might have a bit of an oral fixation if you squint.

notes: old fic. wanted it here lol

You were just trying to bring your boyfriend lunch. 

Walking in with your sweet smile and warm eyes and the packed container that Osamu had left on the kitchen counter this morning from running late. Granted, he does work at his own restaurant, so it’s not like he would’ve gone hungry (or been ridiculed for his tardiness) but still. You know how fussy he gets when he is looking forward to a certain meal and you didn’t want his poor employees to have to be subjected to that. 

So in you came—like the absolutely great partner you are, regardless of what his brother (your annoyance) says—saving the day yet again with your boyfriend’s lunch in hand. 

And it was damn near sickening, how his eyes lit up the instant he heard that bell jingle and saw it was you, the immediate softening of his face as a smile spread across his lips. He was pouting too, so yeah, you really did save his poor employees.  

“Aw, baby. Ya didn’t have to do that,” he had cooed as you walked behind the counter to give it to him, letting him pull you into a big hug as he swayed you both side to side. 

(But the thankful, knowing look his cashier had given you only confirmed your suspicions as you returned the embrace and let him peck your lips). 

It was that same cashier that smiled at you both, waved you away, shooed you off. “You can go boss, don’t worry. I’ve got this covered. Rush time is over.” 

Now normally, it would take a bit more convincing for Osamu to leave one of his workers manning the front all by themselves. Normally, he’d wait until one of the others returned from their own lunch before he deserted them and took his own. Normally, he puts his boss priorities first by a smidge in situations like this. 

Normally, you don’t end up with your back arching off his hardwood desk with your muted moans echoing off his walls. 

“What. A fuckin’. Sweetheart ,” Osamu grunts, each word punctuated by the pistoning of his hips as his hands grip onto your waist.  

You grapple for him, for something, anything to hold onto as he mercilessly fucks into you. One hand wrapping around his wrist, the other trying to reach around his shoulders. He ruts into you again and you think you nearly bust your lip from how hard you’re biting it trying to keep your voice down. 

“I just—you left it—so I—” a gasp rips out of your throat as he shifts, the head of his dick brushing against that spot in you that makes you want to scream. Nails digging into his skin, mouth dropping open to pant an ungodly variance of his name.  

“You what?” he asks, and you fucking hate the way he sounds so collected when you’re literally losing your damn mind right here in his cramped office. “Thought about me, hm? Takin’ care of me, ain’t ya? My sweet baby.” 

He leans over you enough to steal a sloppy kiss from your parted lips, drinks in the sighs and breathy exhales you push out. His eyes catch yours, stone grey pinning you, as if his arms coming up to cage you weren’t enough. A calloused, familiar hand cups your jaw, grips it like he thinks you would even dare look away. 

“Yeah, my sweet fuckin’ baby,” he smirks in a way that has your stomach flipping ten times over, coil tightening up. “My turn to take care of you. Show you how fuckin’ thankful I am.” 

And you want to dismiss him or shush him or curse him or something. He didn’t even lock the fucking office door for Christ’s sake, and it’s too loud. You’re both way too loud, and you want to tell him that. Tell him that he needs to be quiet, needs to keep you quiet, because you don’t think you’d ever be able to face any of his employees again if you knew they could hear you right now. 

But all that comes out is a broken off moan into his mouth as his pace doubles. It’s hot in his office. You always berate him for not buying a fan, but you’re not too sure the lack of circulation is really what’s to blame for the heat this time as a rough hand slips between your bodies and the pad of a thumb presses to your clit. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” And oh, now he worries about your volume? “Don’t want them to hear me showin’ my thanks, d’ya?”  

His grip eases up a little on your jaw, just enough for him to slip his thumb up to rub against your bottom lip, tugging it down and letting it go. You can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he does it again, licking his own lips as he plays with yours. He’s always told you that you had a pretty mouth—when you were eating, talking, just sitting. You catch him staring, call him out just to watch him dopely smirk, listen to some cheeky remark he’ll give. 

Now, though, it seems like every bit of cheeky is drained from him as he darts his tongue out to lap into your mouth, seemingly forgetting to even pull his thumb away before doing so. 

If the chorus of thank yous he’s been spewing weren’t enough for you to get it, the ones he’s been quite literally drilling into you are. Your pussy flutters around him just barely, and that’s all the sign that he needs. His thumb on your clit speeds up, rubs patterns in a way you almost think could be the kanji for thank you as well. It’s what it feels like. Like every bit of him is exuding gratitude. Like he’s trying to engrain it into your pretty little brain one way or another. And you’re more than happy to help him. 

He pulls back with a string of spit connecting you, warm pants into your mouth and on your cheeks as his hips stutter and his eyes go a little hazy.  

“Fuck, fuck. C’mon sweetheart, cum f’me.”  

And he’s just so damn pretty, flushed and breathless above you, chest heaving just a bit with every rock of his hips. You don’t think you could deny him even if you wanted to, and for some reason you’re nodding. Your frazzled little head bobbing as you tug him closer, bring him down again, let his mouth muffle your cry of his name as your legs start to shake and your cunt clenches around his cock. And Osamu, he’s never been one to receive without giving, and the same applies to this moment now as he gives your pretty cunt a few more shallow thrusts until a new type of warmth is being shot into you. 

It’s static in the office for a few moments, staggered breaths and hammering heartbeats as the two of you stay pressed together. Slowly, Osamu raises his head up enough to look down at you again in his post-orgasmic glory, and with the look in his eyes you already want to kill him. 

“Did ya get the message? Or do we need to go another—” 

You shove his face away before he can even finish, rolling your eyes despite the slippery grin that spreads across your lips. And he just presses a kiss to your palm, giving it a lippy little bite when you try to shove him away the second time. 

You were just trying to bring your boyfriend lunch, but now you’re rushing out of his restaurant with a red face and messy hair, trying to get to your car before his cum starts to leak out too much. 

And pretending you didn’t see the look his poor cashier gave you as you ran out. 

[spiderlyla]

headcannon of asking miguel to help you make your ass fatter at the gym??!? bro is all over that

turned this into a fic LMAO hope you enjoy (gn!reader)

"You want to what?

Miguel grunts, carefully setting the weight rod back in it's slot after he almost dropped it onto his chest upon hearing your request. He flicked off the sweat on his forehead, eyes glancing up to see you smiling ever so sweetly at him.

"You heard me," Getting sassy with him now, aren't you? You crossed your arms, grinning. "I want to make my ass bigger, figured you'd know how to help me."

He sat up, placing his hands on your each sides of your hips, still utterly and completely baffled. "No, I heard that, but I don't get it." You wrapped your arms around his tense shoulders, massaging them slowly. "Tu trasero se ve bien." [Your ass looks great.]

"Of course, you think so. But I already made up my mind, so are you going to help me or should I open a tutorial to follow?"

He groaned, mulling it over in his head before nodding. "Okay, okay, I'll help." Excitedly, you placed a kiss to his forehead, pulling him up to his feet.

His reluctance was not out of laziness, he loves it when you ask him for help working out, but this was going to be the end of him.

"Is it suppose to feel this uncomfortable?" It was your first exercise and you were already pouting up at him. Miguel adjusted your hands on the rod, then moved to check your posture.

He told you the first exercise should be a little more easier than this, but you insisted on trying the squat rack, saying you could take it. "Your posture is all wrong. Arch your back a bit, baby." He placed his hand on the small of your back, trying to push you forward a little. You moved just a little, letting out a pained groan, "It feels worse."

"Honey, that's because you didn't move." He makes his way behind you, pushing you forward until you finally let out an exhale of relief. "Now you can move. Just very slowly, okay? Make sure your grip is tight around the rod." Miguel didn't have time to move, he found himself trapped behind you, as you squatted ever so slowly, brushing against him with each movement.

He stood stunned, breath hitched in his throat, lips pursed, hands beside him as he stood awkwardly behind you.

"Am I doing this right?" Your ever so innocent question bursts his bubble, and he lets out a small hum of approval. "Yeah, just..." He placed his hands on each side of your hips, pulling you towards him. You squatted again, this time very aware that you're brushing against him. He could feel blood rushing between his legs, every time the curve of your ass came in contact with him. Miguel almost choked up on his groans, "Yeah, just like that..."

"You seem out of breath, Mig. You wanna sit down?" You're teasing him, he can tell. Was this your plan all along, to get him groaning and squirming in place like some horny teenager?

"No, I'm fine—Aye, por el amor de Dios, me estás volviendo loco." Very reluctantly, he moved back to his original spot. He watched from the sidelines as you went up and down, struggling with the weights a bit after a few squats. "That's enough for now, cariño, or else you'll get a cramp. Let's try something else." He stepped infront of you, easily removing the weight from your hands and setting it down.

Miguel led you over to a mat, his hand never parting from your waist. "Here. Get on all fours."

"Kinky."

"Amor, por favor."

Your giggles made him drop the tough exterior he was trying to maintain. "Prop yourself up, and kick back with your right leg 5 times, then your left 5 times."

Simple as that, right? Wrong. He knew how smart you are, so for you to mess this up was deliberate, then again, those innocent stares you were giving him were really throwing him off. He spent the next ten minutes trying to guide you, but you only seemed to get it right when he kneeled beside you.

"Honey, don't open your legs, just—" One of his calloused hands rested on the back of your thigh, while other was shamlessly on your ass. That seemed to seize your movments completely. He gave you a gentle squeeze, beckoning you to move, but you let out a small squeak. "Focus, hm?"

Now you got it right. Once he made sure you were doing it correctly, he stood up, yet his eyes stayed on your form, watching you intently as you huffed and puffed. "Someone's tired already? You've done this 20 times total now."

"Maybe we should take a break, Mig."

"I thought you have a goal here, don't you?"

You stopped the exercise and laid on your back, smiling up at him. "Mhm, but I am tired, and it seems like my coach is distracted too, so maybe we should both take a moment."

He raised his brows, unimpressed, yet his flushed cheeks exposed him. He spread an arm to help you up, only for you to tug him down, making him lose his balance and fall ontop of you. His knee separated your thighs, while his arms held him up, entrapping you. "Did you actually want to work out, or did you just want my attention?" He asked, a wide grin replacing his usual pout. You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling. "A bit of both. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping we'd end up where we are right now." He laughs, brushing his nose against yours, tufts of his hair tickling your forehead. "All you had to do was ask, didn't need to put me through all that."

"I love teasing you."

"Oh, that I can tell." His lips press against yours in a heated kiss. Miguel's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you on top to straddle him. His hands roam further down, on your rear.

Then he gives you a strong squeeze. You squeal, breaking the kiss to glare at him. He only grins back up at you, cupping your cheeks.

"Well, it's definitely firmer."

[sunny-mercya]

Wasted

Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Male Reader

Masterlist

H a v i n g t h e T i m e of my L i f e !

D i g g i n g t h e D a n c i n g Q u e e n

«Where's [Name]?» a question Billy shouldn't have asked Stu—he looked like a deer caught in the headlights, wide eyed and a flicker of realisation and panicky fear in them.

«Stu. Where is [Name]?» Billy repeated again, harsher this time, demanding even. Giving his boyfriend a expectantly look, brow raised, a sort of glare it was—the kind of which a parent would give, when they aren't being amused and mildly disappointed with what their child did.

Stu feels like this metaphorical child. His hands getting clammy, eyes darting around from side to side, everywhere and anywhere—even focusing on those, in his humble opinion, absolutely ugly paintings which hung on the walls alongside the staircase, just so he doesn't have to look at Billy and getting this....this look of disappointment from him. Though when Stu accidentally did, he winced visibly.

Now, this was a situation—one of the rare occasional ones—where Billy, who's normally an composed person, was feeling restless and a tiny amount of fear spiking up in him.

This wasn't one of Stu's many parties, where they have established unofficial rules to what was allowed—in drugs and alcoholic beverages wise and where they have control over everything—this was the party of an stranger, a person Sidney (or had it been Tatum or another one of their friends?) was acquainted with, from over next town.

A party, where the two couldn't keep a proper watch over you. Couldn't keep you out of harms way—and it wasn't like, that you neither could hold your own or defend yourself in dire times of need. You're perfectly capable of such things. But, for them, you're their precious little boy—which they just, if they could, would love to lock up and keep safe.

And Stu had one fucking job this night, keeping you near him. Yet in the end, Stu had failed in it, managed to lose you in this crowd.

Billy was craning his neck, straining his muscles and he even could feel a pull at it. Trying to find you in that cramped mass of human strangers. Stu, standing behind Billy on the staircase, being a lot taller then his friend, swirled his head from right to left. He too trying to spot you, your mop of (h/c) hair or the clothes you are wearing. No avail.

An underlaying panic, deep buried in their pits of stomach, sets itself free. Rising up and giving them side stabs. Leaving goosebumps on their skin and a tingle down their spines.

«Fine. We're going search for him together. [Name] can't be that far.» a string of cruses left Billy's mouth afterwards.

~~~

You swayed from side to side, trying to find your way back to the house as you wandered through the backyard, a rather big one with lots greenery, some trees and a stony path. You hoped at least that you were still in the backyard, sight a bit too blurry to tell what all the difference blobs are.

A hiccup here and there left your mouth. Swallowing your own salvia and taking another sip from your cup, drowning the last rest. Wanting the sandy dryness to get away.

A few minutes later and your mouth was dry again. You drunk enough to have your body being hydrated. More limo and soft drink than alcoholic beverages, besides a few shots and one or two cups of beer.

So getting a dry mouth within seconds was a bit weird, so you thought. Did you always had such a excessive sweating? And since when was the night so warm?

You stopped your walking, just standing there wherever that was, because it sure doesn't look like a backyard anymore (and perhaps it never has.)

Taking one step forward, still wanting to continue your way back and in the next moment of seconds, you felt a wave of air around you. Falling and your face hits the asphalt.

The small shock shook your mind awake form the haze. Turning onto your side, you tried to sit up. Needing a few tries before you accomplished it. The few glass shards, which laid around, digging into your palms—leaving bloody cuts.

Huh, funny, the blurry dots which comes flying nearer and nearer, reminded you a bit of your boyfriends—the colours seemed to fit the dots so well.

You snorted loudly at this thought, falling onto your side again. Giggles left your mouth, waving a hand at your dot boyfriends. Dot boyfriends. Another snort.

~~~

It had taken some time till Billy and Stu had found you. First they searched inside the house, checked every room—interrupting a few people by two things; sex and taking a piss. Then they took a look around the backyard and pool area, but nothing.

A few fleeting thoughts, what if imagines came to their minds. Non of them pleasant at all. You could have been kidnapped or you going back all on your own or you even going with someone else.

They came to the same conclusion. You're wandering somewhere on the streets around and on their way out of the house—passing through the mass crowd, bumping shoulders—Billy sneered at Sidney when she gave them a confused questionably glance.

If it weren't for Sidney, this wouldn't even be happening. Not Stu was at fault.

All of this was her fucking fault.

Billy thanked whatever god might be existing above there. They didn't had to ventured through the streets for too long, till they saw you sitting in the middle of the street.

Stu helped you sit upright again, keeping his hands on your shoulders to give you hold.

Billy crouched down in front of you, holding your face into his hands. Scraping the small bits of shards away and drawing circles with his thumbs over your cheeks. You leaned into his touch—a contrast to your warm skin.

«....It's so warm....» you mumbled, blinking owlish at Billy, eyes dropping every so often.

«What happen [Name]?»

Billy watched patiently how you opened your mouth, trying to form words but all it came out was a jumble of unintelligible sounds.

Billy was concerned, even if you were drunk—fully intoxicated—you would still be able to say intelligible words.

Though you didn't look too good either; laboured shallowed breaths, ghostly pale, sweat trickling down your skin, shivering—besides you complaining about the chilly night being way too hot—pupils dilating and your nonchalantly about the cuts.

Noticing the empty cup next to you, Billy had a hunch and hoped he was wrong. The bit of leftover drink in the cup, a slight purple colour with a bitter smell, had proving his hunch correct. Drugs.

Billy narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips into a line. He crushed the cup in his hand, throwing it away. Whoever fucker had done this, they would pay this. Dying a long and painful death.

«You carry him Stu, though lets find the fucker first.»

~~~

«Bills, let us go home. [Nickname] needs to sleep and getting the drugs out his system» Stu whines a bit, adjusting his hold on your thighs again to carry you more evenly on his back. All the while you nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, moaning out complains—with a few giggles and in between incoherently talking of something—how damn hot it was, how thirsty you are and that you want some cuddles.

Stu, to keep you delighted and from falling asleep, nodded and agreed along to whatever you were saying. Giving you seriously meant answers.

Billy let go of Ben's—the asshole who drugged not only you, but also Kelly—shirt collar, leaving him leaning against the wall. Ben snickers, smirking at Billy, practically a invitation of dare.

«Aww, c'mon a bit of drugs hasn't harmed anyone. Don't get yer panties in a twist. Pretty boy is taking well, isn't he?»

A wave of anger took over Billy's face, contouring into a grimace of furiousness. Without wasting another second, Billy punched him across the face. Breaking Bens nose in process, a satisfying crack being heard.

«Try to drug him again Benny boy and I will make sure that your nose isn't the only thing I will break.

~~~

«Ya think some good ol' horror films will help our darling babe to fall asleep faster?»

«No Stu. That wouldn't be such a good idea, not with the intake of drugs. Could mess with his mind.»

Stu laid you down onto the bed, crawling next to you and pulling the covers over you and taking you into his arms. Billy coming back in the room, placing a glass of water and some pills onto the nightstand. Putting a cool washcloth onto your, already burning up, forehead.

Bill sat on the edge of the bed, caressing your cheek, swatting away Stu's hand from himself for a moment. Deciding after all in the end, to lay down next to you too.

Ben would pay for this, Billy having planning the perfect death for him.

Though this could wait for a bit later, after all you're their first priority.

D a n c i n g Q u e e n, f e e l t h e b e a t

D i g g i n g t h e d a n c i n g Q u e e n

[moremaybank]

AIN’T A LONELY CHRISTMAS SONG — j.m

pairing: dad!jj maybank x mom!reader warnings: sexual innuendos (sort of), jj being a tad mistletoe obsessed, your daughters get into a tiny disagreement, mentions of pregnancy, i think that's it author's note: so i was trying to stay away from using names, but it was getting repetitive saying your older daughter and your younger daughter over and over so i gave them names. hopefully you find them cute LOL. also, this isn't technically part of my holiday event, but i wanted to write this to sort of kick things off ♡︎ naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

“C’mon, pretty girl. It’s getting hard holdin’ on like this. You sure it’s not too big?”

“We just need to finesse it a bit. Nudge it a little to the left ‘n then we can slide it in.” 

Beads of sweat started to form on JJ's forehead. His muscles were starting to cramp and he had to hold his breath to make sure he didn’t physically combust. “Okay, baby. How ‘bout now? ‘M I good?” 

“Yeah. Okay. You’re good.” 

With a collective heave, JJ pushed while you pulled, but the oversized tree seemed determined to resist. Then, after numerous strategic twists and turns, you managed to get the tree inside of your shared home. Needles of pine littered across your wooden floors like confetti. 

JJ chuckled as he looked at the slightly dishevelled tree. “Well, you said you wanted the entryway to look memorable, right?”

You sent a glare his way. “Not what I meant, J.” 

Soon, you heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet against your stairs, followed by two adorably shocked gasps. Your older daughter Avery sprinted down the steps, her little sister Elle hot on her trail as they rushed over to the two of you. 

“Woah! Big tree!”

“Big tree,” Elle echoed in agreement. JJ crouched down, scooping her into his brawny arms and lifting her so she could get a better look. She reached out, her small fingers brushing against one of the branches and she retreated with a curious and excited squeal. 

“Yeah, I think Mama went a little overboard. You agree?” 

Avery clung to your side, her arms circling your hips as her chubby cheek smushed against your thigh. Big blue eyes gleam as they stare up into yours. “I think it’s perfect.” 

You broke out into a smile, smoothing out some of the frizz on the top of her head. “Me too. Daddy just doesn’t see our vision.” 

JJ rolled his eyes at that. 

—

Soon enough, Christmas music swirled through the air, and the sweet fragrance of your festive candle made your home smell like its own winter wonderland. 

JJ used his manpower to retrieve all of your decorations from your basement, earning a sweet but fleeting kiss from you before you lugged it all over to the tree.

Boxes upon boxes of ornaments and other decor littered around the room, messily so as your girls dove in with eagerness. Their decorating skills were definitely…questionable, but neither of you could deny how adorable they looked as they overflowed the tree with everything they could find. 

JJ instantly recognized that caliber of enthusiasm, knowing that his gorgeous girls had no doubt inherited it from their mom. The woman of his dreams had passed on everything he loved about her to their children, and it warmed his heart. 

“Look at this, babe,” you said, peering at your husband over your shoulder. 

JJ abandoned his place on the couch, crouching down beside you to get a look at what you were showing him. It was an ornament, a very worn one. Inside laid a picture of the two of you, huddling together with bright, toothy grins and Santa hats on your heads. You couldn’t have been more than twelve years old at the time. Your parents had invited JJ to stay over for Christmas, knowing full well that Luke wouldn’t try to give him much of a memorable day. They’d gone over the top, getting double the amount of presents and matching pyjama sets for the both of you. You’d crafted gingerbread houses (in which JJ had tried to make a competition out of it and lost severely), drank copious amounts of hot chocolate, and watched Christmas movies until you slumped together on the couch in deep slumber. 

JJ smiled fondly. Those times were so precious to him, then and now. He’d just started to recognize that he was nursing a crush on you, and being with you at your favourite time of the year only made him fall for you more. Sure, he was just a kid in middle school. But that didn’t mean he was too young to realize how much adoration he held for you in his heart. 

“You were so cute,” you gushed, turning your face to him so you could kiss his cheek. “Baby JJ.” 

He arched a brow. “You sayin’ I’m not cute anymore?” 

A laugh bubbled from your throat. “Of course not. But look at those cheeks. So squishy.” You pinched one of his cheeks, maybe a tad too hard, and he shoved your hand away, massaging the soreness away. 

“Ouch, baby.” 

You leaned in to plant another kiss on the apple of his cheek but were interrupted when a sudden and spirited fight broke out between your daughters. Both of your heads snapped toward them, your shared bubble of love now popped. 

“I want the star!” Elle insisted, clutching onto the golden tree topper with all her little might. 

“No fair! You did it last time!” Avery’s arms crossed over her chest and she stomped as her tantrum began to surface.

JJ, sensing the inevitable meltdown about to ensue, intervened with his signature, charming grin. The one that had convinced you to marry him and had managed to give you two beautiful children. “Alright, ‘lil ladies. There’s no need to fight. You can both do it together, yeah? Can you do that?” 

JJ’s hands reached out, tickling each of their sides and watching their twin frowns dissolve into smiles. Giggles filled the air and warmth bloomed in your chest instantly. 

“Okay, Daddy,” Elle spoke, giving in to her favourite person in the world. Her eyes drifted onto her sister. “‘M sorry, Avey.” 

“That’s real nice of you, Ellie,” JJ praised, kissing her temple. Then his gaze moved onto her sister. “How ‘bout you, Aves?”

Your eldest nodded, now looking bashful. Avery, ever the sweetest (despite her occasional outbursts), caved in the moment her little sister’s nickname for her hit her ears. “I’m sorry too. We can be a team.”

Your smile grew larger, making your face sore.

You and JJ had been through it all together. From friends to lovers, and everything in between. He’d plucked his heart out of his chest and handed it to you on a silver platter without thinking twice about it. The power of his love was almost surreal. But the most magical thing you got to witness while being with him was watching him transform into an amazing father. Sure, he was a goofball who was constantly bouncing off the walls with all that energy pumping through his veins twenty-four-seven, but when it came to your little girls, he was a natural. Hell, your theory was proven to be right yet again when he handled that impending tantrum with just the flash of his smile.

“What are you lookin’ at, goof?”

JJ’s voice broke you out of your daze. He was standing now, each of your girls propped up on both of his hips as he carried them. Avery and Elle eyed you curiously while their hands both held the golden star.

You gave him a shrug, walking over to them. Your arms wrapped around all three of them as best as you could manage. “You’re all just so lovely.” 

JJ burned to kiss you. He almost did. But when Elle whined about how her arm was getting tired from holding the tree topper up, he was returned to reality.

The kiss can wait, he thought.

“Alright, my little star commanders. Let’s do this thing.”

He carefully stepped up onto the stool sitting in front of the large tree, and with a team effort, Avery and Elle strategically placed the star at the very top. They clapped and cheered together, high-fiving in victory once JJ stepped down and back to let them admire their work. 

“Nice work, babies. You killed it.”

—

You passed through the living room and into the kitchen, taking note of the mistletoe that your husband had sneakily hung in the doorway. You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed over to the cupboard to grab some mugs and the hot chocolate mix. As you waited for the milk to warm up, your eyes landed on the alternate entrance into the kitchen. More mistletoe dangled from the doorframe. You knew without a doubt that you’d find it in every entryway that adorned your home. 

You made all four cups, completing them with dollops of whipped cream and chocolate shavings. You placed them on your wooden tray, but before you could pick it up and bring it to your family, strong arms wrapped around your frame. The owner’s chin dropped onto your shoulder after leaving a kiss there. 

“Hi, Mama,” he rasped. You could hear the mischievous grin in his tone. “These look amazing.” 

“I figured we deserved something sweet for all our hard work,” you responded. You turned around in his hold, your hands running up the lengths of his arms and coming to a stop on his shoulders. “Nice job with the mistletoe, by the way.” 

He shrugged casually, but his smirk only grew wider. “Can’t be out here wasting any opportunities. Y’know I can’t live without your kisses.” 

“Mhm.”

“Hey. ‘M serious. Gotta be prepared.” JJ pulled something from his pocket, and his arm raised over your heads. “See? Prepared.” 

You laughed softly, leaning up to peck his lips. “You don’t need to carry that around. I’ll kiss you any time you want.” 

“That a promise?”

“The biggest promise, Maybank. Those lips are mine.” You granted him another kiss, this one languid and loving. “Now let’s go check up on our troublemakers. It’s way too quiet in there.” 

—

The four of you settled in on your couch, the fireplace glowing and providing a coziness to the room. You all found refuge under one of your thick, fluffy blankets, with both girls plopped in yours and JJ's laps. The soft, golden cast of the lights on your tree illuminated the room enchantingly.

Avery nestled against JJ, her head resting comfortably on his chest, while Elle found a cozy spot in your hold. The familiar tune of Where Are You, Christmas filled the room, Cindy Lou Who’s sweet voice carrying out the lullaby that seemed to put everyone at ease. 

As the plot unfolded, the Grinch was giving a dramatic monologue at the annual Whobilation festival in Whoville. Even with all the chaos ensuing as the he burned the town tree and destroyed the celebration, Avery’s eyes drooped, and Elle’s rhythmic breathing told you that she was already fast asleep. You shifted her into a more comfortable position gently and looked over at JJ. His eyes were fixated on the sleeping girls, a soft smile playing on his rosy lips. 

“I’ve dreamt of nights like this.” His voice carried in a whisper, careful not to wake the kids up. 

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his expression clear with contentment. “Yeah. When I was younger, I’d just sit ‘n imagine what it’d be like to have a home, a family…all of this. Luke never gave me any of that.”

His arms tightened around Avery, who curled into his chest further in her sleep. “Never thought I’d have this, y’know? Never thought I’d get to call you my wife — I still can’t believe I get to call you that, by the way. Or have a real home, a real family. I love you guys more than I ever thought I could.” 

“We love you. The girls are crazy about you, ‘n so am I. We’re so lucky to have you, baby.” You extended your arm toward him, placing your hand on his shoulder and giving him a comforting squeeze.

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m lucky. You made this real for me. I never thought I deserved any of this, but you never stopped trying to convince me that I could have it all. This is all ‘cause of you, pretty girl.” 

“It was a team effort,” you assured him. “The house, the girls. Our life. This was both of us.”

“When you talk like that, it makes me wanna give you another baby.”

You bit your lip through an uneasy smile. “I don’t think it’s gonna take that much work…”

His blonde brows pulled together in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m pregnant.”

JJ’s eyes widened once the words sank in, showcasing a mixture of surprise and overwhelming joy. His smile was so bright that it gave your decorated tree some tough competition.

“Really?” He whispered, breathless.

You nodded, your smile mirroring his. He’d always had that effect on you, always had such contagious enthusiasm. “Yeah. Looks like we’re getting our dream again.”

With a lack of better judgment, JJ let out a whoop of excitement that echoed throughout the room. He had temporarily forgotten about the peaceful slumber that had taken over your girls. “Fuck yeah!”

You giggled softly, placing a finger on your lips and shushing him. “Shh. You’re gonna wake them.”

He half-ignored your words, leaning in to kiss you deeply. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled against your lips. “‘M just excited.”

“It’s okay, babe. I’m happy you’re happy.” 

Your head tilted, resting on his shoulder. You settled further into the couch, feeling the warmth of the joyful news you’d just shared. JJ swore to himself that he didn’t think he could get any luckier, but in a matter of mere moments, he learned that he was wrong. Your family was expanding, and there was more love to be shared. Love he didn’t even know he had in him. Each time you have a child, it grows more and more, yet it still shocks him every time it appears on his doorstep.

JJ’s head rested against yours after he kissed your hair. If this was how he’d live out the rest of his days — surrounded by the beautiful family you two had created together, he’d never want for anything else. His dream came true, now four times over. 

TAGS: @taintedxkisses @findapenny @bmo-bri @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @rafetopia @poppet05 @lyndys @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @drudyslut @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @peachpitlover @sya-skies @emmalandry @urbestieboo @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17 @abbybarnesstuff @lovelyxtom @camelliaflow3r @runningfrom2am @rcbuttercup @redhead1180 @luversgirl @thejuleshypothesis @scarlettocean @subconsciouscollapse @vivian-555 @violetmacher @drewstarkeyslut @hoeforstarkey24

[hees-mine]

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Synopsis: After giving into temptation, there was no end. The guilt was slowly started to fade, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of lust for your best friend's father.

Warnings: smut, finger sucking, cursing, dirty talk, taboo relationship, pet names, sir kink, mentions of flirting.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 1,607k

⟱ ⟱ ⟱

"We can't keep doing this," you tell heeseung breathlessly while he pushes his dick in you, stroking deep inside your warm wet pussy.

"Why baby?" he kisses all over your neck, not really paying attention to you cause your body never matched your words when you were with him.

"C-cause it's w-wrong," you stutter in a pathetic attempt to stop him. It always goes like this you tell him it's wrong, but it never stops you. You always just end up beneath him pussy soaked and begging for more of his cock.

"No, it's not," he tells you, and you're so weak for him that you don't even put up a fight. "Not if we both want it."

It was utterly shameless the way you were both going at it in the back of his car parked off in some empty building parking lot while he stuffed you full. It was so wrong, but it felt so right, so right. "Fuck, y/n, you're so perfect. Feels so good," he pants next to your ear, hips moving to the best of his abilities despite the cramped space in the backseat of his car. "Wanna fuck you all the time" he leans back, eyes scanning your flustered face, his hand pressing on each side of your neck, making you feel lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air getting to your lungs.

Your legs are limply wrapped around his waist, your hands clawing at his naked back while you take him balls deep in the back seat of his convertible.

The wet sounds mixing with your lewd moans are more than obscene, but the only thing that's in your mind is how good your best friend's dad Is fucking you. "Sir!" You rake your nails down his back, adding more scratches to the ones that hadn't even healed since the last time you had him. You choke out a moan when you feel him hitting really deep, so deep it's almost like you can feel him in your throat. You know it's not possible, but you blame it on him for fucking you absolutely senseless.

"Legs on my shoulders," he rushes out, and he doesn't even give you barely any time before gripping your ankles and throwing them over his shoulders, adjusting you so he can fuck you even deeper, which you didn't know was even possible at this point. "Fuck” he releases a sharp breath. He can't fathom how wet and warm you feel around him. Nothing has felt this good to him ever. "You know I'm so glad my daughter met you," he talks in between his thrusts, body covered in sweat and windows foggy as he bottoms out over and over again. It's like he couldn't stop moving his hips even if he tried. "Otherwise, I never would have got to feel this sweet pussy” he smirks when he feels you clench from his words. "It's true, baby, and I'll do anything to have you," his voice gives out towards the end as he loses himself in your silky heat. "I don't care if we have to sneak behind my daughter's back," he grits through his teeth as his tip drags along your walls perfectly. You can only lay there beneath him, mouth open wide, while he gazes down at you with nothing but want in his eyes.

"Hee-seung," you try to moan his name, but it really sounds more like you're crying than anything else, and it only motivates him to fuck into you faster, knocking the wind out of you.

"Yeah? That's right, say my name." He chuckles. "You know this is wrong me with you." he moves his free hand from beside your head to grope your left breast. "But you can't help it, can you? Can't help fucking your best friend's dad?" He leans down, spitting inside your mouth, watching you struggle to swallow it down cause of the grip he has around your neck. "How do you think she'd react knowing that you're taking her daddy's dick nearly every day? Hmm?" He teases, loving the way your eyes roll back in your head at his filthy words. "That you still call me sir even when I'm deep inside you," he chuckles softly, nibbling on your lobe.

You don't even have to say anything for him to know that you love when he talks to you like that. He can tell by how creamy your cunt has gotten and by how tightly you squeeze around his cock, forcing him to still his hips because the grip around his thick base is almost too tight for him to handle.

Nearly choking on his saliva that's pooled in your mouth, you manage to gulp it down as he finally releases your throat, and you gasp for air. Well, try to, but you can barely catch your breath before he sticks two of his long, thick fingers down your throat. "Suck on my fingers the same way you sucked my dick earlier," he groans, watching you slurping and sucking on his fingers, eyes darkening even more if that was possible. "You remember that, right? The way you choked on my cock while your friend was in the next room?" You nod your head, eyes getting teary from all the pleasure. "You were so loud," he laughed, remembering how you couldn't stop moaning when he was giving you deep back shots right in the next room while his daughter slept soundly. "Had to fill your little mouth with something to keep you quiet, and you liked that, right? You liked having my cock stuffed in your mouth. Hmm pretty"

You do your best to nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head. His fingers in your mouth, along with the way he was fucking you deep and slow, were too much to handle you needed to cum, or else you were going to go insane. "S-sir," you gag around his fingers, and the sound makes his cock twitch.

"Mmm, what's that baby?" He removed his fingers, sticking them straight inside his mouth, sucking off every drop of your saliva, and you couldn't even barely remember what you were going to say. "Tell sir what you need." he lowered himself, pressing a kiss on the side of your puffy lips. "You know he'll give it to you." he licks your lipline before propping himself back up, smiling at your blissed-out expression.

"S-sir, please, need to cum on your dick, please" he couldn't say no to that. He loved nothing more than hearing you beg for it.

He hums softly, nosing the side of your face and releasing a deep breath that he didn't even notice he was holding. "Thought you'd never ask" he leaves little pecks here and there, his hand making its way down to your under-stimulated clit, using his thumb to massage it just the way he learned you liked it. "Kiss me," he whispers on your lips as you use the last bit of sanity to capture his soft lips in a messy kiss.

Kissing you was just as good as fucking you. Luckily for him, he got to do both, and on top of it all, he got to hear your precious sounds and your tiny gasps for air while he made out with you licking in your mouth, swirling his tongue with yours before transitioning back to soft little pecks those were his fucking favorite your lips were to die for, hell, you were to die for. "S-sir wanna cum” your brows draw together as you mumble the words on his lips, and he still doesn't stop kissing you.

"Then cum baby, it's okay," he slurs, eyes squeezed shut as he feels you getting tighter by the moment. "Cum on my cock” he whispers in your mouth, messily sucking on your tongue as his hips roll uncontrollably, chasing his high just like you.

"Yes, s-sir," you whimper, stomach tightening and walls clenching as you let go, limbs trembling as you cream his meaty cock.

"Want me to cum?" He moans out, too lost in pleasure. He's right there, but he needs to hear you say it. He needs to know you're just as eager to take his cum as he is to give it to you.

"Yes, please give me your cum, sir" The moment you said yes, he let go emptying himself deep inside you, ropes and ropes of endless cum drenching your already-soaked cunt. "Yes, cum in me" You dug your nails into his sweaty back making him groan in pleasure.

The warmth invading you makes you sigh in pleasure, your hands flying to his hair and bringing him in impossibly close as you latch your lips onto his, never wanting this moment to end. He moans into the kiss, feeling so many sensations at once, and it's too much, but he just can't stop because he's fucking become addicted to your feel, your taste, just you. He's so undeniably obsessed with you.

His hips eventually still, and your walls relax after your second orgasm since you left his house, the first being when he fingered you in the passenger while driving here.

Both of you shake and tremble, feeling a little too overwhelmed after your sneaky getaway.

You both take turns catching your breaths, hearts still beating wildly in your chests as he lays on top of you with his cock still deep in your cunt.

At some point, he was gonna clean you up and take you home, but right now, he wanted to stay with you a little longer cause he didn't get to last time.

⟱ ⟱ ⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[moonstruckme]

if you're okay with smut requests at the moment, giggly sex with james? like they're both just so happy to be with each other that they can barely kiss between their moans AND laughter

Thanks for requesting!

cw: smut, mdni

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 930 words

James is upon you the second you get through the door, and between the two of you, you’ve got most of your clothes off not a minute after. 

“Missed you,” he professes, words all smushed up against your mouth as you knock into his glasses with the bridge of your nose. “M’never letting you leave again.” 

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do, tie me to the bed?” You feel a bit like being a tease, but then his hands grip your ass, heaving you up against him, and any thoughts of restraint fall away as a moan escapes you. “Wow,” you say at the hard bulge that’s now slotted conveniently between your legs. “You did miss me.”

James snickers and walks you towards the bed, kissing you harder when you grind against him, desperate for the remaining layer of your underwear to be out of your way. “You’re full of bad jokes today.” His lips are curved against yours as he sets you on the mattress, your legs spreading for him automatically. You lean back, and he bends to follow you. “Why don’t you leave comedy for the comedians, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” you laugh, arching up into his kiss. A big hand snakes in between your back and the bed, and a second later the clasp of your bra comes undone. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” You’d say you’d almost forgotten how skilled your boyfriend is at undressing you, but you haven’t. 

“Lots of practice.” James waggles his thick, deceptively deft, fingers in front of your face before sliding them down to their preferred spot at your waistline. Your preferred spot too. You sigh blissfully as his big palm drags up and down your side, thumb just barely skimming the skin beneath your breast. “Plus motivation.” He grins, dotting a kiss on the corner of your lips. “I’ve been waiting for this all week.” 

“You’ve been waiting all week for this?” Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he moves his hips on top of yours, your giggle tinged with delirium. “No ‘how was home, babe?’ ‘how’s your family doing?’” Your goading is interrupted by a small whimper as James’ hand slips beneath the band of your underwear, palming your already slick cunt. “My mom’s doing well, thanks for asking.” 

He slides the moisture up to your clit, tracing tiny circles around the bead that have you fisting your hands in the covers and taking tiny, gasping breaths. “I’d rather not talk about your mum right this moment, if that’s alright with you.” 

Laughter erupts from you, catching in James’ chest too until you’re both dizzy with it. “Guess you’re right,” you admit, letting go of the sheets to tangle both hands in his hair. You pull him closer. “I missed you too,” you tell him between kisses, your teeth clacking together. He tastes all that much sweeter for it. “Missed you so much, Jamie. For more than just this, if that wasn’t clear.” 

“I know.” He nips lovingly at your jaw, stinging with his teeth before soothing with his tongue. “Whatever crimes you try to pin on me, I missed you for more too,” he says, and then his deliciously thick fingers slip inside you. “You did miss me for this too, though, didn’t you angel?” 

“Fuck.” You bite his lip as he works those blessed fingers into you, middle and marriage testing the waters before beginning to scissor gently. James laughs at your reaction, and you both flinch back when his teeth clank against yours. 

“Sorry,” he says, shoulders shaking as he cups the back of your head. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

“Fucking just—ahh—just chip my tooth while you’re at it.” You’re bordering on nonsensical and part of you knows it, your stomach nearly cramping as you laugh through the building pressure in your core. 

James curls his fingers inside you, and if you had enough working brain cells left, you’d wonder how he does it through the giggle fit that’s seized him. “Hey, you started it.” There’s not a lick of malice in his tone as he presses sloppy kisses to your cheek, still laughing. “Nearly bit my lip off.”

“I knew—you could take it,” you pant.  

“Oh yeah?” James’ fingers slip out of you, and you look down as he works your underwear down your legs. They’re sopping wet. “Wanna talk about what you can take, angel?”

“Now who’s the one with the bad jokes,” you mutter, and his laughter is booming even as he slips his hands under your ass, angling himself into you. 

He pushes inside you and bends over you instantly, pecking insistently at your lips. “You,” he snarls playfully, emphatic (and, you think, happy beyond belief if his hard dick and giant smile are decent enough indicators). “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

“I think—” you gasp as he shifts inside you. “You know what? Shut up.” 

James’ guffaw is ecstatic, but he actually complies, kissing you from chin to temple as he pushes slowly in and out of you. You laugh giddily as you mouth underneath his jaw in return, your hands sliding over the broad expanse of his shoulders while his work diligently at your breasts in that incredible way he knows how. 

Your giggling subsides until you’re just breathing together, your kisses turning more languid, and you’ve almost gotten your shit together, almost found your rhythm, when James’ thumb brushes over your nipple and a breathy fuck slips past your lips. 

“Well, I’m trying to, if you’d stop interrupting.” 

And you both crack up all over again. 

[chronically-ghosted]

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 

“Baby, look at –,” 

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?” 

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?” 

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.” 

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!” 

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 

“She’s out?” 

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 

“On my side, but between my thighs?” 

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 

“Please.” 

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.” 

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 

+

[hotwings0203]

“Daddy?”

You moan and weakly toss your head to your left as you hear the cellar door open

Tw: noncon, blood, kidnapping, abuse, whipping, the usual shindig

His chuckle reverberates throughout the dark room, and you can’t help but flinch at every footstep coming down the rickety steps. Your head is pounding, your heart seems to be caught in your throat and the dingy light in the cellar keeps swaying amidst the draft.

His figure descending towards you makes you nauseous, but you're not dumb enough to fall for his good-natured demeanor as he descends and approaches towards you.

Full eye-contact, a smile as best as you can manage it, and body turned toward him.

As if the chains wrapping around your body like some fucked-up gift wrapping allowed you any mobility anyways .

"Hi there, princess," he coos at you before squatting in front of your weak and bound form, lifting your chin up at him gently with his thumb and forefinger.

You hum quietly and try to swallow the cotton that seems to invade your mouth at the dark humor in his eyes.

"You miss me?"

Nodding as vigorously as you can, you scrunch your eyebrows together and pout your lips the way you know hope melts him. The healing cuts across your forehead and cheeks sting as the scabs are pulled taut with the way you're manipulating your facial expression, but if that's the price to pay to satiate put off his sick desires, then so be it.

"I-"

You cough and desperately try to wet your lips with your tongue to get rid of the raspy warble, and instead attempt to don a soft, higher pitched voice.

He doesn't like it when you give him the impression he's neglectful.

"I m-missed you daddy. Wanted to have your arms around me and feel you, and, and.."

You trail off hopelessly as you scramble for what else he'd want to hear, but in the time your hesitation settles uneasily in the air, his hand has already reached around behind his back to produce a strange black silk bandana.

"Yeah?" He simpers at your panicked expression seeing the new toy. "Guess you can't have missed me that much if you stopped screaming for me."

Your face falls.

That sick fuck

He slaps your face, hard, and violently rips your thighs apart. You yelp and flinch as he cups underneath your knees and brings them up next to your head.

Your legs shake at the strain of being folded in half after being immobile for so long, and you feel the threat of a severe cramp creeping in your calves. He merely grips your legs tighter and shoves you harder against the wall, practically slamming his hips against your own at the easy access.

He grinds slow and deliberate, almost painfully as your lower half buzzes from the attention. You sob as you strain your head to the side to avoid his leering grin right in your face, hair falling over your eyes as a temporary shield to his sadism.

"Aww, look at you. You that shy? I thought I fucked it out of you the first couple times, but I guess the lack of attention really did wonders for you."

"Daddy, please," What you're begging for, you have no idea, but you know your silence will enrage him further.

As he's done so kindly to remind you about.

His raspy growls continue right in your ear, words hot and fierce as you wince in terror. "What, I leave you down here for two days and you only need me for bathroom breaks? For food? What if I just cut that all off, huh? Would you need me then, you ungrateful fucking brat?"

He seethes and suddenly gnaws your ear.

"No! Nonononono daddy, m-my throat hurt after calling out the first couple of hours, I promise!" You wail as he continues to painfully rut and grind against your sore mound.

"Nah, don't start begging now. Your punishment hasn't even started. This is just warming you up, my pretty girl," he breathes into your open and wet tear-stained mouth as he deftly undoes your wrist shackles. His mouth never leaves yours as he lifts you up tightly against him and carries you to the other side of the red room.

The second he places your unsteady feet on the floor he grabs the ropes swinging lightly overhead and immediately starts tying your chaffed wrists again. Even though you're standing now, you feel as though your position bound now in the middle of the room is even more vulnerable that when you were sitting against the wall.

"I'm sorryyyy," your sobs wrack your body as he lets go of your now-bound wrists. Your balance is lost as you let go of your weight and let the ropes hold you up. And yet, you're still not even sure what you did to piss him off.

"Yeah, just like that, keep screaming for me pretty girl," he mutters under his breath as he stalks around the room looking for something.

"I thought the waterboarding and knives were enough to get it through your thick head, but I'll spell it out for you...on your body"

His rummaging around the room stops as he positions himself behind you, much to your terror. At least when he's in front of you you can protect whatever part of your body he's targeting.

All you hear is the pathetic sound of your own sniffles and his heavy breathing.

You make one last attempt before submitting to your own fate.

"Daddy...I thought you couldn't hear me. That's why I stopped calling for you. I-if I had known you could hear me I wouldn't have stopped!" The rest comes out in a rush as if he'll silence your excuses, and your dry throat feels as though it's ripping in half.

There's a very pregnant pause before you hear a shuffling behind you, and he starts to peel your flimsy, dirty nightie off of you.

Your lip wobbles as the silence continues, and he begins to shove his hands up your body, first trailing up and over your hips, past up your sides, and then cupping your bruised tits. You hiss slightly as his thumbs press into your sore nipples as his palms massage the globes in circles.

His breathing picks up again as you do nothing but whimper at his violations, his hips having a mind of their own and rubbing up against your bare backside. You have no idea when he took his pants off, but you definitely feel his unsheathed member dragging hot and heavy over your asscheeks, teasingly releasing precum over the skin.

"Oh, I'm not mad at you baby. I'm gonna let you continue your silence. In fact-"

His rutting and ministrations stop as he seems to have worked himself up to a climax, and you gasp lightly as you feel a cool silk fall over your eyes. You feel him secure it snugly behind your head, and moments later you hear the sound of duct tape being ripped from its coil. Sure enough, your mouth is covered, and you're rendered mute, immobile, and blind within a matter of minutes.

He voices your terror. "Like a lamb waiting for slaughter," he croons as he places his palms flat against the hollow planes against your torso your breasts, pressing you closer into his uncovered erection and chest. It seems as though he can never get close enough to you, even within his grasp.

"Spread your legs." And now his voice is monotone, devoid of the lilt mere seconds earlier.

You're too terrified to do anything but obey, hoping if you react well enough this punishment will also end in minutes tops.

You smell rather than hear the leather first, with its pungent factory scent drifting up to your blood-caked nose, making your nostrils wrinkle in disgust.

And then, you feel it.

He places the bottom of the handle of the whip firmly against your poor widdle clit, and starts grinding in circles, imitating the way he was earlier when you were in his arms.

You squeal against the moist tape and thrash, your wrists aching something fierce as the ropes holding all your weight above prove to be unyielding, merciless.

He laughs cruelly at your distressed state, and continues to rub your bud faster. He rambles on like a madman, and you feel like your ears will bleed with the filth he spews.

"Yeah, yeah, you like that? You want it that badly, slut? I'll make sure you never stop begging me, begging me to love you, to hold you, to fuck you like you need me right now," all the while he rubs his member over your asscrack and cover you threateningly.

His other hand yanks your hair to the side, and he lowers his grinning mouth to the unblemished nape of your neck, fighting for balance against your skin as you try your utter best to thwart his evading teeth.

He bites and sucks at your skin like you're nothing more than a chew-toy, all the while moaning lewdly and growling like a fucking dog.

All the sensations inflicted on your poor, abused body cause your hips to rock in their own rhythm against the handle of the whip, which hasn't stopped its incessant stimulation.

There's a tense moment of re-adjustment as he shifts the handle to his other wrist to prevent his own hand cramps, and he stops his rutting as well as his assault on your neck.

While he straightens up to continue the torture, you however, have not stopped bucking your hips amidst the handle stilling on your clit.

You let out a wail of frustration- at him, and being violated like this, and needing to cum because of it.

When he realizes your hips are actively still bucking and chasing the revoked high, he barks out an incredulous laugh.

"Seriously? And here I thought this was punishment. You sick little freak, you're not supposed to be enjoying this."

And sure enough, you feel the handle shift from stilling against your clit to pushing inside your quivering hole. You moan loudly at the feeling of the lightly ribbed tool rubbing agianst your puckering walls, albeit a bit painfully.

You can hear him exhale in awe as he angles the handle at a place that makes you jump and lift your hips as best as you can just to lower them against the shaft. he keeps it there, letting your buck your hips and work for it yourself, teasing you by bringing it lower and finding yourself unable to drop any further due to the short leash above your head.

But hes a kind master, and soon begins fucking it up into you himself after the sight of your drooling, empty pussy isn't enough to simply satiate himself by molesting your tits.

The squelching sounds of your wet cavern and your girlish moans, along with the sight of your ass shaking from his spanks are too much for him, and he yanks the handle out of you yet again right at the cusp of your climax.

"Not yet baby," he rasps, wiping literal drool off his mouth. "Daddy's gotta feel you cum around his big, fat cock," and with that whisper, he plunges three fingers back inside you. He shudders at your needy howl, and begins dillgently pumping inside of you.

With you distracted on creaming his digits, he grips the slippery handle of the whip and cracks it against your ass.

You whine and thrash again, your orgasm yet again ripped from you, but he merely pumps his fingers faster.

"Louder," He growls.

He lets it crack on the other cheek, marveling at how tight you squeeze around his fingers while the skin blooms a beautiful blood-red.

You scream this time, sure you can taste blood from your parched throat. It's exhausting your body at this point, the pleasure and pain mixing into one while he has his way with your battered skin.

He lets the leather taste your skin once, twice, curving it around your sides to let it lick your tits, making them jump deliciously and creating small rivulets of blood in its wake, behind your knees to make you buckle and fall painfully further on his pruning fingers, on your back to make you writhe.

And finally, when you do cum at his thumb finally, mercifully swiping across your long-forgotten bud, he makes sure he positions himself in front of you to hear you, loud and clear, like you were supposed to the first time.