#this is why they constantly butt heads

[loganslowdown4]

Roman: Today I feel *starts to create abstract shapes and thoughts above his head*

Logan: I don’t know how to translate that into rational thought.

Roman: FINE! It’s like *abstract shape* with a little *abstract idea*

Roman: Just make it into words!

Logan: Help

[bearforceone3]

young vs old

[fluffypotatey]

Pre divorce shadowpeach didn't seem to be the type to fight a lot. In fact the shadowpeach divorce probably blew up that big due to all the unsaid frustrations they never let out.

So I'm just imagining shadowpeach never fighting in an obvious way (closest to fighting would be backhanded comments or barbed words) but that just makes things more unsettling

oh yeah 100% it didn’t help that swk was always leaving FFM out of his need to get stronger and be the best and be respected. not to mention they probably never saw their times together as the right moment to voice their concerns out loud because this was their time to wind down and they just had to wait it out, wait until everything was perfect enough to have those talks

[autism-corner]

=3=

[princessbrunette]

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

let’s go back to my roots. let’s talk about girly, prissy, spoiled bunny!reader with rafe.

you’re untouchable, kook royalty just for your attachment to the cameron’s but you don’t even care about all of that. all you care about, is rafes time money and attention.

he loves you a lot, but more so — he puts up with your shit. whilst you don’t have much of an attitude, soft in all corners of your life, you can still manage to be a nightmare. you clutter his sink with your makeup and skincare, decidedly a maximalist when it came to your self care and beautification rituals. he plucks a clump of mink eyelashes from the side of the sink, something he nearly mistook for a spider and sets it aside— only calling out a “jesus chr — bun, told you to clear out your shit. my bathroom looks like fuckin’ sephora. in here, now.” before he hears the soft padding of your feet come tottering along, happy to do as your told.

if that’s not making him huff and puff — it’ll surely be the outfits, moreso scraps of fabric you parade around in. expensive, according to his black card, for items of clothing that cover so little — and he can’t say you don’t get your moneys worth, toddling around in strappy powder pink dresses that leave nothing to the imagination or white mini skirts that cling to the fold of the bottom of your ass cheeks, giving not only the chumps at the country club a good look — but his closest friends too. his life had become a sequence of tugging down your hem, manhandling you to be decent. “you—y-you think i need my fuckin’ friends getting an eyeful of your pussy each time you move? are we gonna have to have another talk about what’s appropriate, bunny girl? huh? or maybe the belt will help you learn a valuable lesson. fuck.” he sulks, stomping around after his threat. you’re clung to his bicep with a dazed smile only five minutes later because his mean treatment usually flew through one bedazzled ear and came out the other. soft and dopey as ever.

back to him ‘putting up with you’, there’s a ton of reasons why that is. like aforementioned, he does love you a lot. you’re his little prized possession, his trophy. you were soft in all the ways that mattered and understanding, always listening when no one else would, even if he was admittedly in the wrong. that, and you really did fuck like a bunny rabbit.

you had a libido that was constantly set to high, all hours of the day. you were a chronic pillow humper when rafe wasn’t available to sate you, the man often times walking in to find you teary eyed with a white lacy thong binding your spread knees, pulled down just enough to grind your messy, glossy pussy against the fluffed white pillow from his side of the bed. because really, you were a chronic rafe humper— but you were well behaved enough to know that sometimes he had to handle business and didn’t have the time to feed your greedy cunt.

you’d grown accustom to taking him in any position too, whether it was in doggy style — waving your plush ass in the air, pointing that fluffy pink bunny-tail butt plug straight at him as you mewl into expensive pillows, or you’re crouched on his lap on the couch, feet planted either side of him, a high pitched whimper punched out of you each time you slam your hips back down on his cock, mushroom tip thumping your cervix. you said you liked the pain, liked when it bruised, liked when you could still feel him the next day when you missed him. reminded you of how grateful you are to have a boyfriend who dicks you good.

you had a little obsession that was serving as a problem though— having to give you plenty of ‘sit down talks’ when he talks to you real slow like you’re stupid because you keep begging him to breed you. it seemed no amount of “sweetheart, i’on know how many times i have to say this to get it through that head, but you are too young for a baby. i—i gotta get my shit together first, alright? promised you as many babies as you want after i secure tannyhill did i not? i…i really need your patience… okay?” would stop you from bouncing on his cock with a feverish and determined look in your eye, or locking your legs around his waist when he’s about to nut— babbling tearfully as you beg “please daddy, please gimme a baby. please want — want your babies!”

you’re lucky he was so much stronger than you, often wrestling you down to straddle your face and aim his cock at your mouth before he blew his load, gritting out a spiteful “well you’re gonna have to fuckin’ swallow them ‘til the time comes. fuck.” through gritted teeth as you mewl miserably (but lap it up nonetheless)

you gave him trouble, but nothing he couldn’t handle. he wouldn’t trade his spoiled bunny girl for the world.

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Adeuce + Onee-san!Yuu Headcanons

I THINK THEY’D BOTH BE INTO ONEE-SANS… cuz Ace is the bratty one that wants attention and Deuce is into being praised for his accomplishments 💀 Even worse if both of them are crushing on the same onee-san and butt heads every day about it.

Please note: due to the nature of the scenario, these headcanons could read as gendered (since “onee-san” means "big sister") even though I avoid the use of gendered pronouns for the reader/self insert in my writing and just generally allude to the concept of the "onee-san" trope (someone who is reliable, kind, and mature). Read at your own discretion.

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Ace is totally the type of guy that mercilessly teases the person he has a crush on, and that's really no different when it comes to you. He sees it like a challenge, to see how fast he can break you and get you cutely begging him to stop--but to his surprise, you hold your own and push back, scolding him for his attitude and lip. He blinks as you finish your lecture and turn to walk off, not registering the heat of his gaze following you.

The teasing continues regardless, of course. He doesn't let up on it, always coming up with some clever new excuse whenever you respond. With (fake) watery eyes, Ace will claim you're BULLYING your innocent little kouhai, don't you feel any shame or remorse? Oh, and he gets jealous if others tease you—because only he’s allowed to do that, got it?

He doesn't flinch at all when you scold him (In fact, he thinks it's kind of cute how you get all stern and pouty) Ace will taunt you and egg you on ("What're you gonna do, tell my mom?"). May or may not also include him cheekily sticking his tongue out at you.

The number one thing he makes fun of you about is your kindness. He often tells you that you're TOO nice, and that someday it may come back to bite you in the ass, or someone might try to take advantage of that kindness. "Luckily for you, I'm a nice guy too, so I wouldn't mess with you like that."

Ace is handsy. He'll casually lean on your shoulder or even rest his head on top of yours (if you're short enough for that kind of thing). It's fine between "just friends", right?

If you ignore him (or he feels like you're giving more attention to Grim or Deuce than to him), he gets all clingy, whining about how you next hang out anymore or why did you leave his text on read? Ace tries to invite you out as nonchalantly as he can (he doesn't want to come off as desperate).

"How about that burger place in town? What? Nooo, it's not a date, dummy! It’s just a joke. Unless…?" He typically phrases private outings with him as unserious, if only to keep a route of plausible deniability open for himself to escape with if you indicate you're not really into it.

Pesters you to come watch his basketball games. Constantly. When you do finally show up, he waves excitedly, winks, and tries to dedicate a shot to you in an attempt to look cool. (Unfortunately, the ball bounces off the rim and makes him look incredibly pathetic. Floyd gets a good laugh out of this.)

Every time Riddle collars him or punishes him with extra chores, Ace asks you to comfort him. He'll dramatically lean against you and lament how life has been SO unfair to him lately, so he'd for real appreciate a shoulder to cry on or maybe a lap to rest on right about now~

He pretends to not understand class material as an excuse to ask for "one-on-one" tutoring. Since you're sooo smart and kind, you'll definitely help him, won't you? As you're explaining how to solve this equation or the next, Ace is too busy staring at your profile to really pay attention. You ask if he gets it now, and it takes him a few seconds to snap back to reality and insist to you that he does, but juuust to make sure he gets it maybe you could explain it all again!

Whenever you pack a homemade lunch, Ace is the first to ask for a bite. Well, not ask but more like he announces he wants some before he steals a bite right off of your eating utensil. He'll then make some cheeky comment about how it's an indirect kiss. In return, he shares his own snacks (which suspiciously look like unbirthday party cakes he swiped from the fridge, but shhhh, don't tell Riddle!).

Every time Ace dresses up or buys some new article of clothing, he makes a show of wearing it. Like this guy will wear the luxury sunglasses Vil gifted him for his birthday INDOORS or on the back of his head hoping it'll bait you into noticing and then complimenting him.

Ace claims that you're "soooo obsessed with [him'" since you're always "chasing [him] like a lovesick puppy" and "looking for excuses to talk with [him]". In reality, you follow him around and talk with him to nag him and keep him in line, but Ace frames it a certain way because he's delusional to mess with you. "Geez, if you want me that badly, then just say so~"

You try your best to keep him out of trouble, but there are instances in which you end up roped into his shenanigans and both of you are punished for it. Detention isn't exactly a very romantic spot to be in, but Ace makes use of every moment of it to hog you for himself. "Hey, don't make that long face. It's not so bad—least you've got me here to keep you company."

He sometimes brings up his ex to complain about how needy she was (the irony of Ace saying that is not lost on you) and implicitly brag about how he has sooo much experience with dating. He'll then bring the attention to you. "I don't get it, what was she looking for in a guy? She said I was way too immature for her. How about you, Prefect? Do you get it? Immature guys... do you like that kind of thing?" Ace thinks he's slick but he ain't--

Unlike Ace, Deuce does his best to try and not cause trouble for you to clean up after. He also joins you in telling Ace off, to which Ace will call him a "goody two shoes" and accuse him of "sucking up to Prefect". Deuce adamantly denies it, but his frenemy's words still fluster him.

Deuce is very polite to you and even greets you with a bow. He sees you as someone deserving of respect because of how responsible you are—you're modelling the very thing he aspires to be someday! Your encouraging presence fills him with a drive and determination to be better.

Having someone like you around makes Deuce try really, really hard to demonstrate how mature he can be. He pulls off these herculean feats (like forcing himself to eat bell peppers without gagging or solving a basic arithmetic problem correctly in under 5 minutes). It’s all worth it when he sees that proud smile blooming on your face and hears the cheery “Good job!!” from you.

Deuce usually keeps a respectable distance (to keep things professional between peers!). However, he completely freezes up if any scenarios arise where you touch him—be it an accidental brush of your shoulder and his while you're walking to class together or you plucking a fallen leaf or petal out of his air. His face turns about as red as his dorm leader's and he hurriedly runs way ahead of you to cool off.

The worst of it is when you adjust your clothes for him (it puts you in very close proximity) or when you pat him on the head and shower him with praise. Deuce doesn't know how to react to receiving such earnest compliments, he just melts like putty in your hands, happily basking in the moment.

In spite of all of his efforts, his grades don't see much of an improvement. Seeing his frustration, you offer to tutor him, which Deuce graciously accepts. It doesn't occur to him until he's actually in that tutoring session that this is a private time for the two of you, and suddenly he's struggling to focus because wow, you're so close and your hand is centimeters away from his. Instead of thinking about math, he's thinking about what it would feel like to reach out and hold you. Stupid, stupid! he scolds himself. D-Don't think about weird things like that!

Deuce doesn't have a lot of pocket money, but he offers to share his food with you anyway. (He knows you're carefully budgeting your monthly allowance from the headmaster, so you can't afford to spend much on treats.) He'll break off half of his chocolate bar or dessert bread, but drinks are harder to share. His face burns at the suggestion of sharing a straw—isn't that technically an indirect kiss?—but he tries to pretend like he's not nervous (even as his hand trembles terribly as he accepts the juice carton from you to take a sip of his own).

There are times when you find him a little bruised and beat up, whether it’s the result of a brawl or an intense workout. Deuce will insist that he’s fine, but that doesn’t stop you from personally tending to him. He’s dead quiet as he watches you disinfect and bandage his injuries, heat climbing to his cheeks. When you ask if it hurts anymore, he softly replies “… No.” Not when you’re here with me.

Deuce frequently tells his mom about you when they speak over the phone. He says that you’re an amazing person with a big heart, rambling on and on about how you care about everyone and always support them. His mom listens for a while before laughing and telling Deuce he’s definitely got a crush and that she’d love to meet this person that has stolen her son’s heart. Of course, he gets embarrassed and claims she’s wrong, he just really admires you, that’s all!! (But a mother knows best…)

Deuce is easily flustered whenever you call him “cute”. He tends to keep his mouth shut and let you gush as you please, but one day he manages to find his voice and protests. "P-Please don't tease me like that, Prefect..." Deuce mutters, his gaze cutting to the ground. “I… I want you to see me as a man.” Someone you can rely on.

Deuce tells you that if you’re ever in need of help—or if people are giving you trouble—then all you have to do is call him. He’ll come running to your side, lend a hand, fend off the bullies, whatever you need. He knows he can depend on you, so he should also be the type of person you can depend on.

It’s hard for him to get a grip on his delinquent side if he feels like you’re in danger. That mixture of concern, protectiveness, and upset drives him wild—he doesn’t even realize he has relapsed until he has rushed over to check on you and notices the alarm set in your eyes. I’ve gone and done it again, he panics. They’re disappointed in me.

… But you embrace Deuce warmly, thanking him, peppering him with reassurances, inspecting him for any signs of harm. He’s flooded with relief, allowing himself to sink into your arms and breathe in your comforting smell.

Deuce appreciates it when you make time to go to his Track and Field Club meets and cheer him on. He sprints like the wind to see you at the finish line. You’re smiling, with a water bottle, a wet towel, and a snack in hand to reward him for his hard work. Deuce’s clubmates snicker and tease him about it, but he doesn’t let that get to him—he’s too busy riding the adrenaline high that is you.

He’s not shameless unlike Ace, who pretty much automatically clocks his feelings. Deuce struggles a lot with coming to terms with how he feels about you, wondering if he’s “good enough” to be near you, to like you in the capacity that he does, to push these emotions onto you. He kicks himself, calling it spineless and cowardly to not gather his courage and just blurt it out already—but he’s scared of breaching your friendship. “Hey, Is this okay…?” Is it okay for me to like you like this?

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When grandparents come to visit, Rose gets spoiled silly, and you and Bradley get an opportunity to spend some time alone. You have doubts about your body, but being around your husband makes you feel as good as you hoped it would.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, DILF Roo

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You were exhausted, and your breasts hurt. There was so much to do, and Rose wanted to eat constantly. Taking a twenty minute shower felt like a luxury, but your husband insisted on it when you started to cry in the kitchen. 

"Do you want some ginger ale?" he asked, tucking Rose into the baby carrier so she would hopefully fall asleep.

"Yeah," you replied, not really sure why you were crying. Bradley patted your butt and told you to go get in the shower, promising to bring the drink in for you.

While the water warmed up, you got undressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your body was like a deflated balloon, and you couldn't stop thinking about how weird you looked. Absolutely nothing was as tight as it used to be, and even your face looked unamused and annoyed. And every time you thought about how much you hated the way your body looked now, you got upset with yourself, because you had a beautiful daughter.

"You didn't get in the shower?"

You had you pull yourself out of your daze to meet Bradley's eyes in the mirror. He was holding a plastic cup, and Rose appeared to have finally fallen asleep. "Oh. I will." 

You were almost embarrassed to have him in the bathroom with you as you scrutinized your new bits of cellulite and stretch marks, but he simply wrapped his free arm around you from behind and whispered, "Take your time. I'm going to put Rose in her crib, and then we can watch a movie or snuggle."

Unshed tears burned at your eyes and your throat as he kissed your bare shoulder. He had to go back to work tomorrow. Your parents were arriving tomorrow night. There were so many things happening all at once, and you were overwhelmed even though you barely had to lift a finger with him taking care of so much.

Bradley's breath was warm on your skin as you shivered, naked in the middle of the room. "I love you, Baby Girl. Get in the shower. You'll feel better."

Somehow, he was right. The steamy water pounded against your skin while you sipped your cold ginger ale, and even the sound echoing off the glass and tile was oddly satisfying. You took a few deep breaths with your eyes closed and didn't move for a couple minutes before you reached for the soap.

You didn't even try to put your own clothing on when you finally walked back into your bedroom. Nothing fit, and you didn't want to have to deal with looking at yourself like that in the mirror again, so you pulled on Bradley's old, stretched out gym shorts and one of his shirts. You felt freshly scrubbed and in a much better mood as you walked down the hallway and poked your head inside Rosie's nursery. She was sprawled out on her back in one of her fuzzy sleepers, and you smiled at Tramp curled up in a circle on the rug. He lifted his head to look at you as you turned toward the living room where you could hear the TV on with the volume low.

"Hi," you whispered, and Bradley lifted the blanket so you could join him on the couch. "You got her down okay?"

He wrapped his muscular arm around you. "I did. Eventually. She started crying the first time I set her down, and then Tramp licked her through the crib which made her cry more. This parenting shit is exhausting."

For the first time in a week, you realized just how tired he looked. Bradley made everything seem so easy right now, and you didn't know how you'd manage while he was at work tomorrow. But he looked like he needed a good night's sleep tonight. 

"Want to watch an episode of Real Housewives?" you asked.

He shrugged and tried not to smile. "Only if you want to." It was shamelessly his favorite show, so you queued up an episode and curled up facing his chest. "Aren't you going to watch it, too?" he chuckled, nodding past you to the TV.

You responded by raking your fingers through his hair, and a second later he was yawning. "I'll watch it in a minute," you lied, and he melted into the scalp massage you gave him. Each soft grunt you elicited from him was followed by him closing his eyes for a few seconds, and as soon as you kissed the scars on his cheek, he was sound asleep. Then your fingers went slack in his hair as you yawned.

The two of you got a solid five hours on the couch before Rose started crying for food.

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

"How's the baby? Can I see a picture?"

Bradley sighed quietly to himself and turned to see Javy pulling on a pair of compression shorts next to him. 

"She's great. Gets a little better at sleeping every night," he replied, scrolling through his photo gallery to show him a picture of Rose in her crib. Everyone and their mother seemed to stop him on his way to the locker room, and it was getting to the point where he was going to be late to the tarmac if everyone didn't shut up.

"Damn! She's adorable," Javy said with a laugh. "Kind of makes me want one."

"That's called 'baby fever'," Bradley said, tucking his phone away so he could pull on his flight suit. "Apparently it's a real thing and highly contagious. Want me to put a stop to it for you?"

"Sure," Javy said smoothly, still laughing until Bradley told him the cost of the fancy daycare on base for a month. "Jesus," the other man gasped. "Never mind."

"Exactly," Bradley muttered, finally zipping up his flight suit when Jake strolled in. 

"How's my goddaughter, Rose Bradshaw?" he asked, loud enough that anyone in a three mile radius would have heard.

"Wait, you made Hangman the godfather?" asked Mickey from the other side of the lockers. "Damn. That's pretty wild."

Bradley took a deep breath and said, "I need to get out on the tarmac to talk to Maverick." 

There was something kind of awful about coming back to work after a week off with just you and the baby, and he realized he was in a shitty mood as he took the long way outside to avoid everyone else. He missed Rose, and he missed making lunch for you. He was getting pretty good at smashing up the nasty avocado stuff and globbing it onto a perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread. He really felt like he should still be there with you just in case you needed something. 

"There you are," Maverick said, pushing his aviators higher on his nose as Bradley hustled through the hangar. "How's little Rose?"

He wanted to tell his godfather that it was bullshit that he had to be at work when he had an adorable nine day old daughter he could be playing with, but he bit his tongue. "She's great. Thanks for the stuffed animals. The goose and the rooster were a nice touch."

Maverick waved him off. "You don't need to thank me for anything. Let's have a conversation as we walk to the tower." Bradley kept up the same pace with him as he said, "I'm going to need you to stay until six today. I'll give you a shot performing a dog fighting exercise with some of the new arrivals, but you'll need to stay and write up your post lesson notes."

Bradley licked his lips. On one hand, he'd been grabbing onto every little crumb that was offered when it came to teaching on base. If he could spend more time working out of North Island and less time on an aircraft carrier, he would be able to avoid some of the long deployments that made having a wife and child at home feel so impossible. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick your parents up from the airport at six. He didn't want to send you and Rose out in rush hour to get them even though he knew nothing could beat the comfort and safety of the red Bronco.

Hopefully he could get to the airport quickly enough that your parents wouldn't even notice he was running late. He cleared his throat nervously. "Sounds good, Mav. I'll stay until six."

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

By dinnertime, you were in tears. Rose was already crying again. You just finished feeding her. You were trying to figure out how to use the breast pump, but now it was in pieces on the kitchen island. You couldn't even manage to put ten minutes together to make it work properly. Your body looked scary, you forgot to eat lunch, your entire face was breaking out, and now Rose was wailing.

If you couldn't even make it through one day alone with her, how the fuck were you supposed to even be a mom?

"I'm coming," you called out, almost tripping over Tramp on your way back to the nursery. Your breasts were aching, and as soon as she latched on, you couldn't tell if they felt better or worse. You couldn't tell anything. You hadn't slept for more than five consecutive hours in over a week, because Rose was always hungry.

"Please take a nap after this," you whispered. "I need a nap, too." Truthfully, you wanted your parents here just as much as you wanted Bradley. Rose spit up on the kitchen floor earlier, and you kept forgetting to clean it up between her feeding frenzies. You could probably get your dad to do that. And you needed more panty liners from the story which your mom could probably handle. And you needed your husband to make you avocado toast before you withered away into oblivion. 

"We're here!" Bradley called out through the house as you finished changing a wet diaper. You quickly yanked your dirty tank top back over your head, and as soon as you walked out into the living room, you started crying.

And so did your parents as they crowded around you, kissing your cheeks and looking at the baby in your arms.

"It was one thing seeing her over facetime," your mom sobbed, "but she's even more precious in person."

"Hi, Rose. I'm your grandpa," you dad whispered as the baby yawned. "I think she kind of looks like me."

You laughed as you cried, relief flooding through your body as your mom scooped Rose up into her arms, and then Bradley was at your side, kissing your forehead. 

"Did my pretty girls have a good day?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his thumb and smiling at you as if you looked like a fairy princess rather than an unfed, exhausted rat. 

He smelled a bit like jet fuel, and for some reason he was still wearing his flight suit even though he knew you couldn't have sex with him. "It was just really hard," you whispered, looking up at him like you needed him to understand without you having to explain it to him.

Bradley glanced around at the pump parts in the kitchen and the spit up on the floor. He held you a little tighter as he nodded. "It was really hard for me, too. I just wanted to be here to try to make your day easier." Now you were crying in earnest as your mom and dad continued to make a fuss over the baby, but Bradley was already walking you backwards toward the hallway. "I'm sure the grandparents can hold down the fort while we take a little break?"

"Absolutely," your mom replied, kissing Rose's feet while your dad held her. "Take your time."

As soon as you were in the quiet solace of your bedroom, Bradley bent to remove his boots, and then he unzipped his flight suit and left it in a heap on the floor. "I think I'd feel better if we got in bed for a few minutes." You nodded in agreement, climbing into the unmade bed, and a second later, you were wrapped up in his arms under the covers. He sighed as you curled up against his chest. "Yeah. This is what I needed."

It was like night and day for you. As soon as you were with him, everything felt better. More manageable. Like you could handle all of it. Bradley pressed his lips to your temple as you whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment all day."

"God, I fucking love you, Baby Girl."

You laughed in response, but you weren't joking. "I'm so serious, Roo. I was overwhelmed, and I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. And Rose is just hungry all day and all night, and I can barely keep up."

His big hand slid up and down your arm, soothing away your stress as he murmured, "Well, you make it look easy, Sweetheart. Best mom in the world. As soon as I get my fill of you, I'll make you dinner."

You let his words sink in as you got your breathing under control. Then you finally lifted your head from his chest and kissed him. "I think I'll be okay."

Bradley sat up with you in his lap. "Let's eat something, and then we can feed Rose and get right back in bed. I'll bet I can get your dad to walk Tramp."

The two of you had only been in your bedroom for about twenty minutes, but when you walked back out into the kitchen, it was like a miracle had occurred. There was no mess on the floor. The breast pump appeared as though it had been set up correctly. Your dad was walking back inside with Tramp, already having completed a walk, and your mom was rocking Rose in her arms in the kitchen with four plates of dinner lined up on the counter.

"I hope sandwiches are okay," she said when she spotted you and Bradley. "Just something simple tonight. Tomorrow I'll make spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread."

You took Rose from her and handed the baby to Bradley before throwing your arms around your mom's neck. "Thank you," you whispered, voice shaking with an emotion that wasn't unpleasant. "All of this is really overwhelming."

"We're here to help make it easier. Eat your sandwich."

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

Having your parents stay for the week seemed to make all the difference in the world. They knew how to handle seemingly everything. When you winced after feeding Rose, your mom mentioned getting some ointment. She made a shopping list and ran to the store, and she even brought back the correct type of coffee. And your dad didn't seem to mind sitting in the nursery in the middle of the night, burping and rocking Rose after you finished feeding her so you could go right back to bed.

In fact, every single thing they did, they did with a smile on their face. They were absolutely loving this. And every so often, Bradley felt a pang of sadness associated with something he would never get to experience.

He was thankful for his in-laws, but he would give anything right now to get to experience his own mom and dad having a visit with Rose. It hurt too much to think about it for more than a few seconds here and there, so he forced himself not to. But you always seemed to have a way of honoring them even when he couldn't come up with one himself, and he was so thankful that you did. When he walked in from work on Wednesday, you were sitting at the kitchen island, pumping your breast milk and typing on your computer.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Where's the Nugget?" Bradley asked as you tipped your head to the side to let him kiss your neck.

"She's outside with my mom," you replied easily. "And my dad is taking a nap upstairs since he was up so much last night."

He hummed as he saw your mom walk across the back patio with Rose in her arms and Tramp following behind them. "What are you working on?"

You sounded calm and relaxed as you said, "Finally getting the hang of the pump. The ointment my mom got is helping so much, and I'm trying to store some of my milk in the fridge to make things easier. Oh, and I'm sending baby pictures to Brenda and the other cousins." 

You turned and kissed him over your shoulder as he looked at your computer screen. There was an adorable collage of photos of Rose as well as a family tree graphic that you made. It had everyone's name on it, including Nick and Carole Bradshaw, with the branches all leading to Rose's name in the middle.

"That's really pretty," he whispered, getting choked up.

"I thought so, too," you said, reaching for his hand. "Maybe we can get a copy printed and hang it by the piano?"

"Yeah. We should do that," he grunted, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. "I'll be back after I say hi to Rosie."

When he walked outside, your mom was telling a very elaborate rendition of the Three Little Pigs to his daughter while she yawned like she was going to fall asleep. "Want me to put her in the nursery so you can take a break?" he asked quietly.

"I've got her," she replied, nodding back toward the house. "Why don't you take your wife out for a few hours? She's been pumping all day, so I can just give this little one a bottle if she gets hungry after her nap."

"Oh," Bradley grunted. It was Wednesday. This used to be Hard Deck night for the two of you. Nobody would expect it, and it might even be fun. "Yeah. Okay." He kissed the top of Rose's head and went back inside, taking you by the hand as you sent the photos and the family tree off in an email.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he led you toward the bedroom. "You want to snuggle?"

"Yes. Always. But right now, we're going out for a few hours."

"Where?"

Bradley smirked. "It's Wednesday."

You gave him a confused look that melted away immediately. "The Hard Deck?"

"Of course."

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

The idea of getting out of the house took over your brain and made you feel lighter than air, but the prospect of having to wear real clothes was upsetting to say the least. You knew your jeans wouldn't fit, and just thinking about the tight waistband against your belly made you cringe. You watched Bradley change into the tropical print shirt you got him for Christmas, the one that matched Rosie's, and he looked impossibly handsome.

"I'll be ready to leave when you are," he promised, kissing your cheek as he tucked his wallet into his jeans pocket. "Just let me know, okay?"

Then he rushed from the room, leaving you alone with an entire wardrobe of clothing that made you want to scream. After looking at nearly everything you owned, you settled on black leggings that were a little too big on you before you got pregnant and your oversized red sweater. You carefully got dressed, scared to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, but you needed to put on some makeup.

The finished product wasn't too bad. You looked tired, but so did Bradley. Your outfit mostly hid your weird shape, and you were absolutely craving a beer right now. After this week, you were going to owe your parents big time, but when you went out to the living room, they appeared to be absolutely thriving.

Your dad had a rattle and a crinkle toy in his hands, and Rose was reaching for them while your mom held her. Every time the baby moved an inch, they cheered. You had to stifle your laughter as Bradley came in through the front door with a small bundle of flowers.

"Where did you get those?" you asked him as you leaned down to give Rose a kiss on her cheek.

"From the neighbor's shrub." When you gave him a concerned look, he added, "I asked first! I wanted you to have flowers for date night. I'm pretty sure it's important to keep the magic alive after you have a kid."

The Hard Deck and flowers from a shrub seemed kind of ridiculous for a date, but he was always so sincere. "Thanks, Roo. This is perfect."

He smiled as you put the flowers in the kitchen, and your mom said, "Get a move on, you two. We have everything under control."

You and Bradley were speed walking out to the blue Bronco when you said, "It's like I'm in high school again. I have to get permission from my parents to go out for the night."

Bradley's laughter put an enormous smile on your face as he buckled you in the front seat. He ran his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful," before closing the door. His words left your heart racing, because you knew he meant them. When he backed out of the driveway, he said, "We should stop for pizza on the way there."

It felt like a date early on in your relationship. Sitting in a booth together, constantly holding hands, legs intertwined under the table. Neither of you could stop smiling or laughing, and Bradley still had no shame when it came to inhaling slice after slice of pizza. The best part was when he pulled a bottle of the hot sauce you made in Mexico out of his pocket and set it on the table.

"Oh my goodness!" you gasped, carefully covering your slice in it so you didn't actually waste any. "You win husband of the year, once again."

"I wonder if Rose will like hot sauce," he mused before folding up a slice and eating it in three bites. 

"She better," you replied, moaning in delight. "If she knows what's good for her."

Bradley devoured the last slice when you pushed it toward him. "Let's go fuck up the Hard Deck, Sweetheart."

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

"Mom and Dad are here!"

Bradley groaned when Natasha announced his arrival to everyone in the bar, but you just laughed and snuggled against his side when he slung his arm over your shoulders. Within seconds, the two of you were stopped in your tracks as the usual crowd and a few others came over to offer congratulations and say hello. And a few minutes after that, both of you were holding two drinks.

"Where's my goddaughter?" Jake called over the music, and Bradley pursed his lips.

"She's our designated driver," he replied. "She's waiting in the Bronco."

The aviators laughed as you shook your head and said, "My parents are visiting for the week. They insisted we go out and have a good time."

"So you came to the Hard Deck?" Reuben asked, leaning in to give you a hug. "Rooster, take your wife and the mother of your child somewhere nicer next time."

You were laughing as hard as everyone else now, as Bradley groaned and looked at the ceiling. "I used to like it here," he said as Nat pulled both of you in for a bear hug.

And that was when the two of you were saved from being the center of attention by an even more exciting arrival.

"He's back!"

Bradley turned in time to see Bob walking in, holding Maria's hand. His cheeks were flushed pink, and his glasses were a little crooked, and Bradley could tell instantly why they were just getting to the bar now even if the aircraft carrier docked this afternoon. At least they hadn't broken up over the deployment. 

Maria shook her hand free and made a beeline toward you. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're here! When can I come see the baby?"

"Any time," you replied. "I'll be home for weeks."

She kissed your cheek before giving Bradley a quick hug, too. "I'll bring Cam with me one night. And you should come to brunch this weekend or next weekend. You can bring Rose!"

Bradley cringed a bit at the idea of his tiny daughter being around a bunch of loud, germy strangers in a restaurant. "Or... she can just stay at home with me while you enjoy yourselves," he told you and Maria.

"Sure, Roo," you replied, stroking your fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'll make sure I get to brunch one of these weekends."

Bradley watched you converse with Maria, and then the two of you talked to a very overwhelmed looking Bob who also asked about the baby. And Bradley swore you only sipped at your beers, but you were starting to look a little tipsy.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you danced around completely off the beat of the music playing on the jukebox.

"Yeah," you told him, smiling over your shoulder. You were so fucking adorable, it was unbelievable. "But my boobs are starting to get uncomfy. I'm going to need some relief soon." You turned to face him as you ran your hands along your chest, and even with that sweater on, his imagination took over.

His cock was already reporting for duty as he rasped, "You want me to take you home so Rose can nurse and make you feel better?"

You kind of shrugged in response as you took a step closer to him, still touching yourself. "Well, I've been drinking alcohol, so if we go home, I'll have to pump instead and then dump it down the drain."

"Fuck," Bradley groaned as you reached for his hand and brought it up to your chest in the middle of the Hard Deck. "I don't think you should be wasting that."

You smiled and asked, "Back seat of the Bronco then?" 

When he just nodded at you like an idiot, you hooked your index finger through one of his belt loops and dragged him around, erection and all, to say goodbye to everyone. His jeans were not his friend at the moment. Not with the prospect of your tits leaking milk filling his mind. Once you had him outside, your lips were all over his.

"You make everything so much better, Bradley," you whispered against his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair. "Literally everything."

"I love you so much. Fuck," he moaned as you cupped him through his jeans. Someone else was exiting the bar now, but he didn't have the wherewithal to tell you to stop. He didn't want you to stop. "Come on, Baby Girl," he said, ushering you to the promised solitude of the backseat.

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

You were so horny. You couldn't even fathom what was going on with your hormones that you were mostly in tears on Monday and desperate for an orgasm tonight. Straddling Bradley's lap in the back of the Bronco was nothing new for you, but you were a little concerned about the way your body looked. 

"Holy fucking hell, you're so hot," he groaned, inching your sweater up and pulling it over your head. He was looking at you like you were a million dollar lottery prize with your stretched out belly and your nursing bra. He ran his hands up your hips to your waist, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "You're stunning."

Okay. Well, he could have anything he wanted. You unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as you ground yourself against his erection. He hissed in response before bringing his hands up to your tits and giving them a little squeeze. You were already leaking milk, and Bradley was whimpering softly as he dragged his nose along the curve of one breast and then the other before tasting you.

"Roo," you gasped. His lips and mustache were needy and rough, and you couldn't stop yourself from rubbing your pussy against him. He looked up at you as he sucked on your nipple, and you played with his hair as you asked, "Do you like this?" He nodded before teasing you with his tongue and sucking more of your breast into his mouth. "I'm so horny," you moaned.

He released you. "I want to fuck the absolute shit out of you right now. Do you have any idea?" He started kissing your other nipple as he guided your hips so you were flush against the fly of his jeans. "I want you to get yourself off, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I know you can do it."

You had no shame, head tossed back, whining his name as he wrapped his perfect lips around your other nipple and helped himself. You could feel the outline of the head of his cock through his jeans. He was hard. So hard. And he felt good against your clit. You had to be soaking through your cotton underwear and leggings, but he kept guiding your hips closer and closer.

"Do it," he coaxed softly, running his mustache along your nipple.

You were about to tell him that your body felt so different, you weren't even sure if you'd be able to get off or if it would even feel good. But the words froze in your throat as Bradley parted his lips to taste you again, and you felt yourself gush into his mouth.

"Oh my god," you whispered, maybe a little embarrassed that you had no control over your own body. His eyes went wide as he lapped up your breast milk, and you arched your back as you came on his cock through his jeans, grabbing his hair and the Bronco ceiling for control. You were shaking all over, keening loudly, convinced someone in the parking lot must have heard you by now. You didn't even care. This orgasm was insanely good, and it kept going as you panted and squirmed.

Your breasts were damp to the night air, and you knew it had to be some combination of your milk and Bradley's saliva cooling on your skin as you shivered against his body. His arms were wrapped around you as you rocked slowly before finally coming to a stop.

"Feel good?" he asked between little kisses to your chest.

"Incredible," you moaned. "Holy shit, Roo."

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "Me too."

You noticed he wasn't as hard now, and you took his chin in your palm, guiding his gaze to meet yours. "Did you cum?"

"In my jeans," he confirmed with a nod. "I can't handle how fucking perfect you are." You felt powerful as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. "You literally made me cum in my pants, Sweetheart."

You gave him a soft kiss. "And you didn't even break the center console."

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

BG is definitely struggling a little bit with her postpartum body. Roo is struggling in a different way. There's a lot on the horizon, including angst, but if there's something you'd love to read about this family, let me know! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[mari-the-bimbo]

Academic rivals: Gojo Satoru

A/N: I just brain vomited this out lol. Also hello! I’m alive 🤍

Could there be anything more annoying than a cocky guy who knows he’s handsome, rich, a smooth talker and popular? Yes there is. That same guy also being smart, one of the smartest in the class to be precise. Gojo Satoru.

He’s not as smart as you of course, that’s what you tell yourself at least. You and your academic rival Gojo constantly butt heads and find yourself in competition during seminars.

This whole ordeal would’ve been easier if he kept his distance from you, but despite the tension between you and all his friends suggesting he keeps distance, he decides to pour all his energy into flirting with you.

Cocky smiles thrown your way when he answers a question before you, or an air kiss blown at you when he corrects your answers, receiving praise from professor Yaga.

This inevitably leads to you two bickering, usually you hissing snarky remarks in frustration and him entertaining it, a grin breaking out onto his handsome face when he leans closer and starts twirling your hair around his long finger “you still talkin?”

One time, you received your results for essay back, “98” you boasted as your friends gasped and praised you, you beam with joy, feeling your chest inflate in pride. What you didn’t notice was a certain white haired pretty boy watching your reaction with a wide smile on his face, “cute” he mutters.

“Well done y/n! I got 99, are you proud of me baby?” He asks with a smirk, he bites his lips to prevent himself from laughing when you frown, your classmates laugh at his flirty antics, wondering why you two don’t just fuck already.

He loves riling you up, it’s too easy. He’ll always sit in your spot at the library, smiling widely, putting his hands behind his head when he spots you making your way over to him. “That’s my spot Satoru”

“Whoops too late. Early bird catches the worm” he retorts quickly. You mimick in annoyance, causing him to laugh at your immature response.

“Sit on my lap if it bothers you so much”

You can’t say you hate him though, not when he shares his flash cards or practices exam questions with you when he knows you’re stressed out about the exams.

“Thank you Satoru” “You know I gotchu pretty girl” he says as he pushes your reading glasses up, with a handsome smile on his face but this one feels genuine.

Now if only you knew Gojo Satoru doesn’t care about education, why would he? He’s heir to all the Gojo family businesses, university is more like a side quest to this guy. Gojo only chooses to excel in his studies to get attention from you.

[pedantic-poison]

Rulebreaker | CS55

pairing: fem brat!reader x brat tamer!carlos sainz jr

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, language, dom!carlos x brat!reader, spanking (mostly with hands, briefly with a belt), sir kink, degradation, a wee bit of praise, names used for reader (princesa, cariño, slut, good girl), fingering, unprotected p in v (use protection irl!!!), mention of safeword but no use of it, aftercare

requested: sort of based on an ask I got for another driver that I couldn't make it work for

word count: 5.3k

author's note: i hope y'all like this one! i've been working on this for ages now and it got really really long so as always feedback of any kind is much appreciated!

You knew you weren't supposed to.

You knew you really weren't supposed to.

But it had been weeks without seeing Carlos and at this point you felt like you were losing your mind, so you muster the strength to drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom.

Really it was Carlos' bedroom, since you were housesitting for him while he was gone. You weren't sure if that was making it better or worse - constantly being surrounded by his things, sleeping in his sheets, wearing his shirts because they smelled like him.

At least for right now, those last two were about to be very helpful, as you dropped yourself onto the still messy sheets you'd been sleeping in, inhaling the scent of him as you grabbed your vibe from your bedside table where you'd stashed it. You knew you weren't supposed to touch yourself, so you really didn't even know why you'd brought it in the first place, but you just needed some kind of relief - even without Carlos here to give it to you.

The fluffy pillows and sheets seemed to envelop you as you sank further in them, sighing with contentment as you started to trail your hands along your inner thighs, briefly teasing yourself through your panties before quickly discarding them, leaving you clothed only in an old t-shirt of Carlos'. His name left your lips in a breath as the vibrator made contact with your clit, tracing light circles around the bud before slowly applying more and more pressure.

You felt yourself getting wetter as you went, the shirt so oversized that it rested below your butt, meaning that when a drop of your arousal trailed down from your cunt, it landed on Carlos' shirt. It was so filthy that a moan tore out of you, harsh and unexpected, at the thought of your arousal mixing with the smell of him on the shirt, digging your face deeper into the pillow next to your head to inhale him as much as you could. Your back had started to bow off the bed, legs twitching around your hand as you fought to keep them open. Forcing your other hand to leave its spot latched onto the sheets at your side, you slowly sank a finger into yourself, just barely brushing that spot as you -

Heard your ringtone go off.

Huffing in frustration, you instinctively went to turn your phone off when you stopped to actually read the name on the screen. You dropped everything else you'd been doing, picking up the phone before it finished the third ring.

"Carlos!"

His chuckle came through the speaker first, deeper than usual, and a little bit scratchy, telling you that wherever he was (you'd lost track at this point), he'd just woken up. "Hi, cariño, how're you doing?"

"I'm fine, I miss you though," you inhaled deeper than you normally would've, the effort to catch your breath reminding you of what you'd just been doing, and just how much you were not supposed to be doing it. "A lot," you added belatedly, swallowing hard to try not to show your actions in your voice.

"I know, I miss you too. Are you taking care of yourself while I'm gone? Your voice sounds a little hoarse." He was only being sweet, but your mouth went dry at the question, mind racing to try and come up with a convincing enough excuse that- "Cariño? Are you still there?"

Shit. "Oh, um - yes! Sorry, I think the call cut out or something," you mumbled, hoping if you said it quickly enough he wouldn't think too hard about what you'd said. "But yeah, I think I might have a little cold. Nothing too bad, but my throat's been a little," you cleared your throat with a small (and hopefully convincing) cough, "sore for most of the day."

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that, princesa," Carlos cooed sympathetically, but there was a slight edge to his voice that you found a little odd, almost mocking. "You know how I hate it when you lie to me." Confused at how he'd found you out, you freeze, your lack of a response prompting him to explain, "I can hear your vibrator buzzing through the phone. Not that I needed that to tell what you've been doing, but that makes it pretty obvious, no?"

Your eyes went wide, darting to the vibe where it sat, abandoned and still buzzing away, where you'd thrown it down on the sheets. Shutting it off quickly, you shoved it away under the sheets, like that would make any sort of difference when he'd already heard it and knew what it was.

"Carlos, I-"

"Honestly, cariño, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" His voice had gone hard, still gruff and deep from having slept, and that ache in your core that you'd temporarily forgotten about returned tenfold at the sound of it. "Did you forget how much time I've spent memorizing all the little noises you make? The way your breathing changes when you're close? The way you either talk too slow or too fast because you can't think straight? The scratch in your voice when you've had your mouth hanging open while you moan?"

You could only clench your thighs in response, inhaling shakily at his filthy words. The idea of him being so occupied with thoughts of you and the ways you sounded when he touched you these past few weeks made you flush with heat, feeling it spread down your neck and chest, under the fabric of his shirt.

"You only had to wait a few more days, and you couldn't even manage that, could you? So disobedient, princesa," his breathing had deepened, and you realized with a start that your hand had returned to the apex of your thighs, trailing along the hem of the shirt laying atop your bare legs where they were tucked under you.

"I - I'm sorry," you finally breathed out. "I couldn't help it. You've just been gone for so long, and your rules are so unfair." Your voice took on a whine as you spoke, flopping down onto your back dramatically as you sighed. You'd been caught, so there was no real point in trying to behave anymore.

Carlos chuckled again, this time much darker than the last, "I know you think they're unfair, princesa. I can tell from how much you complain about them, and from how often you break them," voice tightening, like he was restraining himself. The sound of it sent your hand beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, creeping back towards your still exposed, still weeping cunt.

"Then maybe those rules should change," your fingers, still damp with your arousal, grazed your clit. "Since they don't seem to be working too well," the words rushed out of just a little too fast as you began to circle the bud again.

"Watch it, cariño. There's a reason you're not in charge," he warned, the exercise of authority making you whimper. "Now, be a good girl and get those fingers out of your tight little pussy."

You took a breath.

"Or what?"

Carlos' end of the call fell silent for a moment longer than you expected.

"You are playing with fire here, princesa."

The phone line clicked, and the call ended.

You tossed your phone to the end of the bed, frustrated in every way imaginable. If he was going to be such an asshole, the least he could do was let you get off to the sound of his voice while he was gone. Now, you were even more desperate than before, and in a few days' time when he returned, you knew he'd punish you.

A devilish thought occurred to you. If you were already in trouble, you might as well enjoy it then, right? Get as much out of the time before he came home as you possibly could.

You fell asleep right there later that night, satisfied (for now) and surrounded by the smell of Carlos and you mingling on his sheets. When the sun woke you, you'd slept so hard that for a brief moment the emptiness of the bed surprised you, before remembering that you still had four more days to go. And just like that, the frustration returned.

Completely undaunted by the disobedience now, you reached right down between your thighs, touching yourself to the thoughts of Carlos that had swum through your mind last night. You were so desperate.

So absorbed by the feeling of it.

So blind to anything but chasing that pleasure.

You didn't even hear the front door unlock.

Or the drop of a bag inside the doorway.

The sound of shoes walking through the living room.

Padding up the stairs.

Stopping in the threshold of the room.

Of his room.

"Dios, you are such a fucking brat."

The sound ripped you away from your fantasies, gasping as you sat straight up and nearly screaming out of shock. Carlos stood at the foot of your bed - his bed - watching you, dark eyes contrasting with the stark white shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair was mussed (though probably not as badly as yours), like he'd barely slept on the plane, and his hands, hidden by the pockets of his dress pants, were undoubtedly clenched, judging by the bulging veins in his forearms. He looked furious.

He was furious. Had been ever since that phone call with you, after hearing your voice, breathy and full of attitude. He kept being furious during the pointless meetings he had to sit through for hours about god knows what, during the entire plane ride where his head swam with thoughts of you and what he would do to you when he got his hands on you, and during his drive back to his house where his knuckles went white from his grip on the wheel. And now, looking at you, sprawled in his bed, clad only in one of his shirts, moaning his name, he couldn't hold back the intense, primal feelings of possession that flooded him. With your face hot and breaths coming fast, eyes hazy with sleep and lust, and legs spread wide in front of him, leaving your pussy on display, glistening like you were welcoming him home, he knew he would've ruined you anyways, even without your constant disobedience. You couldn't follow his rules because you needed him that badly. Needed to feel his presence even when he wasn't there. He certainly had no issue with reminding you just how much he owned you.

"Carlos... you're... home early," you mumbled, out of breath from the shock of his arrival and the buildup of pleasure it ruined.

"Is that all you have to say for yourself?" He prowled closer to the end of the bed, and you subconsciously drew yourself closer to the headboard. You swallowed hard, clamping your jaw shut and refusing to give him any sort of answer. That would only make it worse for you. But you'd long since given up on staying out of trouble with Carlos.

That certainly wasn't new information to Carlos, either, but it still grated against him when you remained silent, the stubborn set of your brows as you tried your damnedest to stare him down only stoking his need to put you in your place. Glancing down to your still spread legs, Carlos allowed his eyes to trail hungrily over you once more, before reaching forward and grasping your ankle, tugging harshly. The force of it surprised a yelp out of you, bringing a grin to Carlos' face as he situated you at the end of the bed, legs spread to make room for him between them as he stood over you.

"Oh, princesa... you do know you're in trouble, no?" Fingertips grazed over your cheek, trailing down the column of your neck. When you remained silent, the light touch of fingertips became his full palm, hand wrapping around your throat, slowly applying the tiniest bit of pressure. "It's cute, this little act of defiance you put on. Makes me want to fuck the fight right out of you." The grip tightens briefly, before disappearing altogether.

Then your face presses into the bedsheets, Carlos flipping you onto your front. He does it so easily, manhandling you with such minimal effort that it sends a thrum of heat through you. Strong, large hands roughly grope your ass cheeks, spreading them apart so he can see your cunt clearly.

"Such a needy little slut," he tsks, laughing wryly as your pussy clenches from the cold of the air and the pure filth of his words. And then, the heat of his hands and body are gone. You whine, knowing that with the mood he was in, he would make you wait and wait and wait before he followed through on his promise and actually fucked the defiance out of you (or at least tried to).

Turning your head to the side, you watch as Carlos settles himself on the side of the bed, cock already visibly hard through his trousers. "Get up," he tells, not asks, you, voice stern. The doting, adoring Carlos that you loved had taken a backseat to this almost predatory side of him, and you had to admit you loved it just as much. Opting to listen (for once) you stand up from the bed. "Good girl," he hums, pleased, "now strip for me." It's an easy enough task, shedding his shirt and letting it drop carelessly to the floor. His eyes don't leave your body for a moment, raking over your naked figure as if he'd never seen you before. Wordlessly, he patted his thigh, beckoning you to him, and you went willingly. You knew what he was telling you to do, but you still optimistically went to straddle him, earning you a swift smack to the thigh you had raised up onto the bed. "You know exactly what you're supposed to do right now, cariño. Don't make me tell you."

The contact had ratcheted up your awareness, feeling his every breath as you laid yourself across Carlos' lap, ass in the air and hands already gripping onto the bedsheets in front of you, knowing what was coming. "There, was that really so hard? Always wanting to cause trouble," he mused, hands caressing your ass again. "Always so big and brave in the beginning," his left hand traveled up your spine, tracing its path to the base of your neck. "But by the time I'm done with you, when I have you begging and shaking and crying for me, you always remember who's in charge."

The hand at the base of your neck grasped the hair there, yanking your head up and back so he could whisper into your ear. "You remember your safeword, mi amor?" he asked, checking in on you before actually starting anything.

"Yes, sir" you managed, speaking for the first time since you'd first seen him at the foot of the bed. He nodded, placing a kiss to your temple before shoving your head back down into the sheets.

Returning his left hand to the small of your back, while his right groped your ass, Carlos' voice resumed its darker timbre. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of punishment you deserve for your little stunt over the phone." The thought of Carlos stewing in anger and lust for hours and hours making you shiver. "But that was before I came home to find you, knuckles deep in this needy little hole," he lets his fingers brush just barely against your entrance before retreating. "Same rules as usual, princesa: you count out loud for me, and if you miss one, we start over. You tell me when you're close, and if you come without my permission, we start over. Understood?"

Your nod earned you a sharp pinch on your cheek from where his hand had been tracing circles. "Yes, sir," you breathed out quickly, knowing by now what he was looking for.

"Good." With one final, gentle swipe of his hand, you feel his right hand leave your body, tensing in its absence. You feel its impact land, firmly, but not too harshly - yet.

"One," you breathe out, head tilted to the side to ensure he hears you clearly. He lands another spank. "Two." Harsher this time. "Three." Despite bracing yourself, you still flinch with every smack, body jolting as the sound echoes in the otherwise silent room. "Four." Your voice has already grown weaker, breathier. Heat rises where the blood has rushed to your stinging skin, already sensitive. "Five," he lands the next slap as you're inhaling to brace yourself, speeding up suddenly. "S-six, ah." Without meaning to, you squirm in his lap, earning you another quick slap that shocks a gasp out of you.

"Stop moving, princesa, or I will tie you down and make you take everything I give you," he grits out. "Got it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"And what number was that?"

For a brief moment, your mind scrambles, distracted and overwhelmed. "S-seven?" It comes out as more of a question than an answer, and you cringe at the uncertainty of your own voice.

"You sure?" his hand stills on your ass, making your panic grow. But you can hear the lilt of his voice, can tell that he's trying to throw you off.

"Yes, sir," you answer, more confident this time.

"Good girl," he praises, but it's short lived, as another smack lands.

"Eight." The spanks are harder than they initially were, building in intensity, your skin aflame from his rough touch. "Nine." You're doing your best not to wriggle, hands clenched in the sheets like you're fighting yourself to stay put, but that doesn't stop the shakes wracking through your body. "Ten." Relief floods your body, knowing that, on a normal day, this is where Carlos stops. At this point he's gotten you drenched, arousal slicking your thighs, and part of you wonders if you've left a damp spot on his trousers. That little relief goes out the window when you feel his hand against you again, landing two harsh spanks in quick succession. "Eleven," you heave, "twelve."

The sound of Carlos' belt clinking as he removes it makes you freeze. "Carlos?" you question, voice small and unsure.

"I told you, cariño, the punishment I had planned for you at first was before I found you touching yourself, again." His left hand wraps around the front of your throat, bringing your torso up so he can speak directly into your ear once again. "The punishment needs to fit the crime, and you've been very, very bad," he coos, grazing your ass ever so slightly with the belt in his right hand. You shiver. "I'm gonna give you two with this, and then we're done with the spanking, alright, cariño?"

After a moment, you nod, and the slight tick of a pressure increase on your throat reminds you to speak your answer. "O-okay."

The leather of his belt drags against your inflamed flesh, before he pulls his hand back. He allows your head to return to the bed, resting it back against the sheets, and you hear him wrapping the belt around his right hand.

When the belt cracks against your ass, you cry out, body lurching forward, nearly leaping out of Carlos' lap before he grabs you by the hip, holding you in place. "Thirteen," you whimper out, voice breaking. Carlos' free hand rubs soothing circles against your hip, calming you down from the jolt of the impact. "Fuck, fourteen." Your breathing has gone ragged, chest heaving in an uneven, staccato pattern. You feel Carlos throwing your body around again, tossing you onto your back on the bed as you try to catch your breath.

He stands over you again, a predatory glint in his eyes, not giving you time to recover before sliding a finger straight inside of you. It punches the air out of you, your moan silent without air in your lungs to put any sound into it. Carlos chooses a rapid pace, aided by how wet you've become, and the squelch of him pressing a second digit into you is the most obscene sound you've ever heard.

"God, you look so fucking good like this, princesa. Shaking around my fingers," he curls them, hard, to make his point, grinning at the way your body reacts to the touch. "Such a desperate little slut, aren't you? My desperate little slut."

The sting of his palm landing on your inner thigh forces your eyes open. "Yes, sir - oh, fuck- only for you," you squeak out. You realize with a start that there are tears forming in your eyes, most likely from your punishment, though the way your building pleasure mixes with the pain only intensifies the feeling. The tension in your belly goes taught as Carlos' thumb begins drawing circles on your clit, arching into his touch. Everything you're feeling is so overwhelming, you almost forget yourself. "C-close, sir, I'm - ah - close."

"Yeah? You wanna come, cariño?" His eyes glint at the sound of your pleas, incoherent as they may be. "Too bad," he growls, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the loss of contact, earning you another light smack to your inner thigh. "Don't be greedy, amor."

"I - I'm sorry, sir," you sob out, chest heaving for breath.

Rough hands grip you by the waist and harshly yank you to the edge of the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and letting your legs hang off the bed, toes just barely skimming the ground. Carlos traces patterns on the red, raw skin of your ass, and you flinch away from the feeling without meaning to. In response, Carlos digs his hand into the hair at the base of your neck, tugging you up to speak directly into your ear.

"I'm going to fuck you now, cariño, and you're going to take everything I give you, or you don't get to come, got it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"You going to take it like a good girl, princesa?"

"Yes, sir, yes, whatever you want, I'll be good," you fought to keep the needy edge out of your voice, not wanting to sound too demanding of him.

"Good girl," Carlos left a series of searing kisses down your neck, trailing onto your shoulder and down your back as he let you fall back down onto the bed. He hadn't even fucked you yet and you had already gone completely limp, unable to hold up your own body weight.

A large, warm hand splays across your lower back as his lips reach it, touch gentle but firm as he holds you to the bed, standing to his full height again as he yanks his trousers and boxers down just enough to pull himself out.

"Look so beautiful like this, princesa, such a pretty little slut for me," Carlos rasps out, voice low and gravelly, and you can tell just from the sound of it that he's stroking himself. Trying to make you squirm, testing to see if you'll whine at the lack of attention, or do that thing where you wiggle your ass at him to try to get him inside you. But at least for the time being, you're done misbehaving. You need him too badly to risk it being taken away again.

"Just for you, sir. Only you," you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear so he doesn't think you're demanding anything, throwing a glance over your shoulder that you hope strikes the right balance between obedience and seduction.

Based on the way his eyes darken and the hand spread on your back presses done just the tiniest bit more firmly, you're pretty sure you succeeded.

You know you did when he starts to slide into you, eyes staying on yours as both of his hands land on your waist. The feeling of him pushing into you, on top of the thought of just how much of you his hands manage to cover, has your head dropping back down onto the bed with a moan.

Carlos' mouth tilts up in a grin at how quickly you fold, how immediately you become pliant once his dick is in you. Hell, he hasn't even bottomed out yet, and you're already squirming and whining and clawing at the sheets. "Taking me so well, princesa," he coos, just as he snaps his hips flush with yours, filling you up the last few inches suddenly. The combination of him completely filling you, and the praise makes your head spin, and he knows it. It's why he knows to hold back the praise, to mix it in with the degradation, because that makes it all the more potent when he finally gives it. When you finally earn it. Plus, you get off on disobeying him too much for him to not make you work for it - otherwise, you'd have turned into a little monster by now. The thought makes him grin further to himself, thinking that at least you're his little monster.

He knows your body too well. Carlos can tell from the way you're squirming that you're beyond desperate for him to move, but that you're trying even more desperately to be good for him, to hold still, to take what he gives you and not demand anything more. Kisses trail down your back and shoulders, and even though you can feel the smile on his lips, you don't have the mental strength to process what it means right now. Carlos likes it when you have to try like this, likes that he can do this to you, can make you this needy for him, and that despite all of that, your need to please him, to be good for him, overrides your own desire for pleasure. For all of your talk and pretended disobedience, the moment he's in you, you submit to him completely. When he thinks about it too hard, it makes his cock throb inside you.

The sound of your whimpers draws Carlos back out of his thoughts, the noises escaping despite your best efforts. "Being a good little slut now that you're full of my cock, huh? Fuck, princesa, I love those pathetic little noises you make." He bends over you again to speak directly into your ear, and you whine at the way it makes him shift inside you. "I want you to let me hear every single one, cariño. Don't hold back on me, no?"

"I w-won't, sir. I won't, promise," you babble. At this point, you were willing to say damn near anything as long as it meant he would start moving.

"Good girl," he purrs, staying bent over you as he slowly pulls out until just the head of his cock remains inside you. Again, he pauses there for a moment, relishing the way you whimpered as he moved. Then, after he's had his fill of making you squirm in need, he thrusts back in, hard. It knocks the breath out of you, forcing a sharp cry from your mouth at the sudden and harsh way he fills you back up. He continues the pace like that, pulling out slow and thrusting back in with as much force as he can, hips slapping your already raw and sensitive ass when they meet yours.

You keep your promise to Carlos, letting every little sound he elicits from you out unabashedly, your small ah-ah's turning almost into shouts each time his hips are flush with yours. His hot breath on your neck and his broad, firm chest pressed to your back make it impossible to think about anything other than Carlos, Carlos, Carlos. The way his body cages yours in while he manhandles you, pulling your hips to where he wants them, has your moans ripping out of your chest with even more force. As Carlos starts to snap his hips faster, not pulling out all the way in favor of increasing his pace, each thrust punches noises out of you, becoming increasingly embarrassing the more worked up he gets you.

"Fuuuck, that's it, cariño, let me hear you, let me hear how good I make you feel," he encourages, one hand snaking into the hair at the base of your skull to force your face out from its hiding place in the bedsheets. "Wanna hear how much you like it when I fuck you like this. You like this, princesa? You like taking my cock like a good little slut?"

You can only whine desperately, nodding as best you can with Carlos' grip on your hair tightening. "Yeah? Say it, then, princesa. Tell me how much you love taking my cock."

It takes you a moment to process his words, mind feeling hazy from the lust and from returning to the brink of your orgasm, and the delay has Carlos fucking into you just the slightest bit harsher. "Fuck! I - I like it! I love t-taking your cock, sir, love b-being your s-slut, please," you gasp out the last word, the air forced from your lungs by the combination of the force of his thrusts and his other hand landing on your clit.

"Please what? Use your words, princesa." At first, the only response he gets is your high-pitched squeal as his fingers press harsh circles into your clit. "Come on, cariño, you can do it, use your words and tell me what my little slut wants."

"P-please, sir, please let me come, please sir, please," you babble, words becoming incoherent shortly after, devolving into whimpers and keens that resemble words like please and sir over and over again.

"Aw, look at you, cariño, using your words and asking so sweetly," he coos, causing your face to flush with heat even further at the mixture of praising and teasing words. "Alright, princesa, you can come. Come all over my cock for me, yeah? Come all over me so I can fill you up, wanna feel you clenching around me when I come in you," Carlos begins to ramble. Getting closer and closer, he tips over the edge as you come around him, walls squeezing tight around his pulsating cock as it throbs in you, marking you from the inside out.

Carlos doesn't pull out right away, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, head resting between your shoulder blades as he gropes your ass. Occasionally, he squeezes particularly hard, and you whimper from the sensitivity, drawing a deep chuckle out of him that reverberates against the bare skin of your back. Carlos begins leaving kisses down the line of your spine, slowly drawing out of you.

Your body sags even further into the bed, completely spent, and you jolt away from him when you feel two large fingers at your entrance. With his other hand, Carlos grips your hip, holding you in place, as he watches his cum drip out of you, slowly pushing it back in with his fingers. "Can't let this go to waste, cariño. Got to make sure you remember who's in charge, no?"

You nod weakly, no energy or desire left to fight him (for now). Once Carlos is satisfied with his reminder to you, he rises, gently pulling you off of the bed and into his arms. He scoops you up easily, cradling you as he walks to the bathroom and gets the water running, kissing your head softly and murmuring praise as he sits on the edge of the tub, holding you to him tightly. Your body curls into the warmth of him, allowing yourself to be cared for since you're not even sure you could stand on your own right now. He says something about not falling sleep just yet, and then he's lifting you into the bath, smiling fondly at the pout you throw his way when he stops holding you. "Don't worry, cariño, I'm not going anywhere," Carlos hums, slipping in behind you and pulling you to his chest. "I'm staying right here."

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 8

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt 7 (SMUT) / pt 9

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader enjoy SuperDuperMart.

TW: Mentions of bad parenting and emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut.

The next couple of days felt like pure bliss. We spent our time exploring SuperDuperMart, finding endless supplies. I even finally was able to change my clothes into something cleaner. It was surprising that the place was not more ransacked than it was. Maybe it was the location that protected it. Eventually, I had Cooper move the bodies away from the couch and into a different room. During the act, I was too distracted to mind, but the idea of having sex next to them bothered me. The flickering lights and the decrepit couch started to feel like home, someplace we could stay forever. The large supply of Jet would have him set for a long time so he no longer needed to worry about making money to survive. 

More often than not, we ended the days wrapped up in each other, naked on the couch. Bit by bit, Cooper started to open up to me more. Telling me bits and pieces about his ex-wife and daughter. He would never admit it but it hurt him to talk about it so he didn't say much, but was grateful for anything he was willing to give me. I told him more about my home. My father and brothers who kept me locked away in the house, constantly cooking and cleaning. The romance books that I hid under my bed so my father wouldn't take them away. How desperately I wanted to escape but was too afraid to for so long.

"Someday, I'm going to pay that man a visit." He hissed; the venom clear in his voice. 

While I was grateful that he wanted to avenge me, I was happy with the idea of never going back there again. Not even for revenge. They didn't deserve to know I was alive and happy. Not that they would care.

On this particular day, we ended the night like we always did, naked on the couch with me sprawled out on top of him, a light blanket covering the bottom half of my body. It was becoming my happy place, and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 

"We've become domesticated," I mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh.

"I will NEVER be domesticated, darlin'. I'm just takin' a break is all." He responded; determination clear in his voice. 

Honestly? I didn't mind the idea of leaving this place eventually. I would follow that man anywhere. "I'm excited for our next adventure then."

-

I woke up groggy and confused as I heard footsteps coming closer. Cooper groaned as he pulled the blanket farther up my body, shielding me from wandering eyes. 

"Why hello there boys. Now ya'll here for the ice cream social, I'm afraid I got some bad news." He said, converting back into his old, cocky self.

One of the men crouched in front of the couch, looking between us, a look of disgust clear on his face. I squeaked from the embarrassment as I clutched at the blanket.

"That is absolutely disgusting," He murmured at the sight of us before looking over at the robot that had been stuttering for days. "Take it's fusion core." He nodded to the other men. 

I was practically buzzing from the fear coursing through my body. Cooper could feel it, so he snaked his arm around me protectively.

"Now," The man started again. "Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal around these parts." He said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Says who?" Cooper asked, anger clear in his voice. 

"The government." The man responds menacingly before one of the others hit Cooper in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. We were so focused on the man in front of us that we didn't notice the one sneaking around the back of the couch.

"Cooper!" I squealed as one of the men grabbed my arm and wrenched me off of him causing the blanket to fall to the ground. "Well looky here." The man slurred as I tried my best to cover myself. "How did a ghoul get so lucky? You some sorta pervert?" 

"Let go of me!" I cried out, looking back to Cooper. He started to stir, slowly waking up from the temporary loss of consciousness. In response, the men pointed their guns at him. "No, please!" I pleaded. 

"Don't worry miss we ain't gonna shoot him." He explained, "As long as he doesn't fight, that is. Now get dressed." He said throwing me to the ground on top of our clothes pile. With shaky hands I did as I was told, grateful that they didn't have other plans for me. 

By the time I was dressed Cooper's eyes were open. He was seething, baring his teeth to the man in front of him. The man responded by grabbing my arm and spinning me around, so my back was against his chest as he cocked a gun against my forehead. "Your turn ghoul. Get dressed."

A retort died on the tip of Cooper's tongue as he saw the tears running down my face. He let out an angry grunt before quickly throwing his clothes back on. Before he could say a word, the man who hit him took a rope and tied it around his wrists. "You are coming with us." The man growled.

The man holding me didn't bother tying me up, instead opting to keep a tight hold on my bicep. It didn't take long to start hurting. I was definitely going to have a bruise. His companion walked next to Cooper, gun in hand ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. The walk was quiet, tension was thick in the air. We didn't know where they were taking us. "At least they seem to need us alive for now." I thought to myself, glancing back at Cooper.

"Eyes forward." The man hissed at me, shaking me slightly.

I did as I was told, not wanting to push my luck. After a couple of hours of walking, we found ourselves heading inside a neglected building. The inside was decorated like it was out of one of the movies Cooper had me watch at SuperDuperMart. The man holding Cooper pushed him through some swinging doors. 

"Well, shit." A man says as soon as Cooper enters the room.

Why, Sorrel Booker." He chuckled.

Hope swelled in my chest at the idea that they knew each other. That maybe we'd be lucky enough that he would let us go. Sorrel Booker was a bigger man, he was sitting comfortably at a table with a large piece of meat in front of him. We were obviously interrupting his meal. The two men threw us down into chairs at the table. 

"I heard it was a ghoul that fucked up that SuperDuperMart." Booker mused, "Nobody told me it was THE ghoul." He said before picking up his knife. "You know who you boys brought in?" He asked the two men behind us. "This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass. Kids these days don't know their goddamn history."

I looked down into my lap and fiddled with my hands. This man was so hard to read. I couldn't tell if he was friends with Cooper or not. When I looked back up Booker's eyes were on me.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Cooper.

Before Cooper could respond, one of the men piped up, "We found these two naked. Can ya believe it?" He said, a tone of revulsion in his voice. "Disgusting."

"Her name is Y/n." Cooper said, throwing a dirty look at the man behind him, "And she didn't do shit.”

"She's with ya. How innocent can she be?" Booker asked.

There was a moment of silence before Cooper asked, "Say you got a needle and thread?"

One of the men behind us scoffed, "Sorry, we don't do a lot of knittin' around here."

"It's called sewing," Cooper responded, unamused. "I think I got some in my bag."

Booker nodded toward one of his men who immediately complied with the order, pulling out a rag. I shot him a curious glance as the man unfolded the rag on the table, everyone giving Cooper a disgusted look as his finger rolled out. Cooper held up his wrists expectantly, silently asking to be unbound.

"Now come on now, Sorrel, we are old friends, ain't we?" Cooper said as he stared him down.

Booker took a moment before relenting, cutting Cooper loose. "Look at you. 200 years." My eyes opened wide in surprise, during our talks Cooper never mentioned he was 200 years old. "I don't know what keeps you goin'. Maybe you like the feelin' of that good old Californian sunshine on your wrinkly ass face. Or maybe this one isn't the first girl you've found willin' to fuck a ghoul." He finished.

Cooper glanced over at me as he started sewing his finger back on his hand before saying, "Nah, she's one of a kind."

"How sweet." The man behind me said sarcastically. 

"Or maybe," Booker continued. "You're still lookin' for her."

I stiffened at his statement. Was there someone else?

"Well Sorrel, I can confidently cross one reason off that list for ya. I sure as hell ain't still alive so I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself." Cooper responded. Booker had obviously hit a nerve. 

One of the men immediately responded by hitting Cooper in the head again with his gun. "Watch your mouth. That's the president of the government you're talkin' to." He sneered.

Cooper slowly leaned back into his chair. He looked calm, but I could see the anger still simmering inside of him. "Ah. You a president now?" He asked Sorrel.

"Don't see why not," Sorrel responded confidently, taking another bite of his food.

"Well, you might want to hire a publicist because this is the first I'm hearin' about this outfit. Now, what I am hearin' is a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver." Cooper replied.

"They call her the flame mother. Now that bitch is dangerous." Sorrel said with a serious look on his face. 

"Well, when it comes to leadership these days, dangerous is what they call a prerequisite," Cooper said smirking.

"Somebody's gotta step up and bring some order around here. You know why these boys brought you in?" Booker asked, puffing out his chest. 

"Cause I fucked up a poor, defenseless, gang-affiliated organ dealership?" Cooper mumbled, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yup," Sorrel said with conviction. "Now I've always liked you-"

"Well, I've always liked you," Cooper interrupted with a smile on his face.

"Well, ain't that sweet. But that SuperDuperMart you two gutted was under our protection. So, if I wanted to let you go scot-free, folks might lose faith about what we are trying to do here. And then what?" Booker explained.

"Anarchy in the streets," Cooper answered.

"Exactly, so you got anything to say in your defense?" Sorrel asked.

"Guilty as charged." The ghoul responded confidently. I gave him a look of disbelief as he happily wiggled his finger. 

"Just like that?" Sorrel asked, surprised. 

"Just. Like. That." He smiled. "Now if you need any more evidence, I can tell you about this town I just shot up, Filly." 

"Cooper." I hissed angrily. Finally breaking my silence. 

He smiled at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I must have killed nine or ten people." He continued, "She didn't do shit." He repeated. 

"My daddy lives in Filly." One of the men states, concern in his voice. 

"Well, not no more he don't. Unless he's a coward." Cooper said.

"Don't take the bait, son." Sorrel interrupted as the man cocked his gun at the ghoul.

"Oh, I ain't fishin'. I'm just trying to game this out. Now, in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. Is that true in your case?" Cooper asked.

"My daddy ain't no coward." The man was fuming as his gun stayed pointed at Cooper. 

"Well, then I guess the only question is..." Cooper smirked, "Are you?"

"Sherrif Rex. Take Sherrif Troy's gun away." Sorrel said, clearly unamused at the situation.

"Very presidential of ya." Cooper mused.

"Take him out back and feed him to the hogs," Booker said, done with Cooper's antics.

Sherrif Rex pulled Cooper to his feet, but before I could protest, Cooper headbutted Sherrif Troy before stealing Rex's gun. The next thing I knew both men were dead on the ground as he shot them repeatedly. 

"Goddamn it." Booker sighed.

"You really should teach your men how to treat a lady," Cooper explained. "They weren't very nice, were they darlin'?"

I gave him a small smile, "No Coop, they weren't."

He hummed as he stalked across the room. "I got one question for ya ol' buddy," Cooper said, turning his attention back to Sorrel. "Why... do you have this picture on your wall?" He asked, pulling down one of the wanted posters.

"That's Moldaver." Sorrel responded, a look of confusion on his face, "Why?"

Cooper's face betrayed him as shock washed over his face before he regained his composure. "It's just not how I remember her is all," Cooper mumbled. 

"Yea? Well, how do you remember her?" Sorrel asked.

Cooper stared silently at the poster for a while, lost in thought while Sorrel and I exchanged awkward glances. 

"Cooper?" I asked him, worry settling into my stomach. This seemed to catch his attention as he brought his eyes up to me. 

"Let's go, sugar." He said as he folded the paper before stuffing it in his bag. He reached his hand out to me, silently asking me to take it. 

I quickly grabbed his hand, eager to get out of this place. "What about him?" I ask.

"The president?" He asked, mocking Sorrel, "Leave him."

I held on to Cooper's hand tightly as he confidently strolled out of the building. Who was this woman? And what was she to Cooper?

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things @iloved1lfs0

[hazbinwhoree]

We know how much of a tease Adam is which made me wonder

Angel reader being the butt of his short jokes but he's met with an interesting response

"Since I'm so short, put some inches in me then"

Inches

Adam was over a foot taller than (Name). His frame dwarfed hers in comparison. And Adam loved this.

He was constantly teasing (Name) for her height. Verbally or physically, using her head as an armrest, he was always on her ass.

“I have to kneel to talk to you face to face,” came Adam’s teasing.

Today, (Name) had had enough of it. “Since I’m so short, put some inches in me then.”

Adam stopped walking, smirk wiped clean off his face. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Adam cursed her in his head for saying something like that while they were out in public where he couldn’t ravage her. He turned on his heel and grabbed (Name) by the arm, dragging her with him. “Hey!” (Name) protested, struggling to keep up.

Adam reached down and threw (Name) over his shoulder. She shrieked and pounded on his back but Adam didn’t care, booking it home.

When (Name) realized why Adam was behaving the way he was, she went still. Then, without warning, she began to stroke his wings. Adam gasped, entire body stiffening.

“You little fucking tease,” he hissed, powering forward.

(Name) giggled, knowing she was in for it in the best way.

When they got home, Adam marched straight up to the bedroom, throwing (Name) down onto the bed. He rummaged around in his nightstand for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Rope.

(Name) tried to get away, but Adam overpowered her. He basically sat on her as he tied a wrist to the bedpost. With one wrist captured, the other was much easier, and it didn’t take long before (Name) was tied to the bed.

She squirmed, pulling on her binds and Adam crossed his arms. “I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he growled. “Fucking bitch, teasing me out in public like that. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

(Name) smirked.

“Oh, you think that’s funny? Let’s see if it’s still funny when I actually put some inches in you.”

Adam grabbed his pocket knife from the nightstand and cut off (Name)’s shirt since he couldn’t exactly pull it over her head.

“Hey,” (Name) whined. “I liked that shirt–” “Take your punishment like a good girl.” That shut her up fast.

Adam discarded the ruined fabric to tug down her sweatpants and panties. When (Name) was bare before him, Adam took off his mask and stood back to admire his work. Then, he left the room.

“Adam?” (Name) called.

Adam returned a moment later with the burger he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat at lunch.

“You’re not fucking serious.”

He took a massive bite. “Dead serious,” he said, muffled by the food in his mouth. He swallowed. “You teased me first.”

“So you tie me up naked while you eat a fucking burger?”

“Yup.”

God, (Name) hated him sometimes. She could do nothing but sit there, bound and naked, while Adam polished off his lunch. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Don’t hate the player for playing your game,” Adam retorted.

(Name) supposed she had started this.

When Adam finished eating, he took his sweet time, brushing his teeth, slowly beginning to undress. (Name) whined. “Adam,” she dragged out the “m”. Adam snickered. “Yeah, baby?” he teased. (Name) groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Finally, finally, Adam finished undressing, and crawled onto the bed. (Name)’s legs shook in excitement. Adam smirked. “So needy.” “Shut up and put some inches in me,” (Name) demanded. Adam laughed. “You’re not in the position to be making demands, babe, but lucky you,” Adam crawled on top of her, pressing his erection against her crotch. “I actually want to do that.”

(Name) spread her legs wider. “Please,” she begged.

Adam finally took pity, grinding his dick against her wet core. (Name) moaned, relieved by some friction. She thrusts her hips up and Adam covered her mouth with his. His tongue invaded her mouth and he swallowed the desperate sounds she made.

His hands began to wander, trailing up her sides and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands found her breasts and he flicked his thumbs over (Name)’s perked nipples. She moaned, arching her back and pushing her chest further into his grasp.

Adam smirked. She was so sensitive.

He began to roll his hips, setting a steady pace of humping one another.

“Put it in,” (Name) whined. “You’re not in charge,” Adam replied. “You wanted this.” “Yeah, I wanted your dick, and you’re not giving it to me.” “Don’t play dumb.” Adam pinched her nipple and (Name) threw her head back.

“You want me to fuck you so bad it’s pathetic,” Adam snickered. (Name) groaned. “Beg for it and maybe I will.”

“Please, Adam, Dickmaster, whatever, please, please, please, fuck me.”

Adam hummed, reaching down between them to line himself up with her entrance. Then he sunk in slowly, stopping when just the tip was in. (Name) was losing her shit.

“Adam, come on!”

Adam pushed into her painfully slowly, taking a full minute to bottom out. When he did, they both sighed in relief, and Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s. He’d planned to tease her more, but now that he was inside her, his patience was wearing thin.

He gripped her hips, keeping them still as she tried to move. “Fuck me,” (Name) begged.

Adam finally began to move his hips, thrusting in and out at a slow and sensual pace that was driving (Name) crazy. But he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He grabbed her legs by the backs of her knees, pushing her knees up towards her chest, basically folding her in half.

With the new position and the new angle, Adam dropped all teasing and began desperately thrusting into her. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

(Name) moaned, holding onto the ropes that binded her wrists for dear life.

Adam’s pace was brutal, pulling out and slamming back in hard. “How does it feel to have those inches in you, hm?” Adam tried to keep his voice strong, but it was breathy with pleasure.

“Good, so good,” (Name) babbled. “You’re so good, Adam.”

The praise went straight to Adam’s dick, and he pounded into her harder, his grip on her legs tightening as he began to reach his peak. But he’d be damned if he didn’t make (Name) cum first.

She was close too, her walls tightening and constricting around him. Adam made sure to hit the same spot over and over, the spot that was making (Name) see stars. Her mouth hung open in slack pleasure.

“Adam,” her voice was high pitched. “That’s it, baby, cum on these inches.”

His words sent (Name) over the edge and she came with a gasp. Adam, satisfied, chased his own release, the sound of skin on skin reverberating around the room.

“Fuck, (Name),” he gasped before he came deep inside of her. He dropped her legs and (Name) gratefully stretched them out. Adam collapsed on top of her and briefly wondering why she wasn’t holding him until he remembered he’d tied her up.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of her to begin working on the knots around her wrists. When she was free, he kissed the irritated red skin of each wrist in apology.

Exhausted, he collapsed on the bed and pulled (Name) into him, draping his wing around her. She cuddled into his chest, still trying to steady her breathing.

“How was that for putting some inches in you?”

[aliaology]

OBSESSED

SUMMARY: you and jack had been dating for around nine months now, and recently his ex has been coming back around. this causes you to go on a social media stalking rampage, and soon you become a little obsessed with her.

PAIRINGS: jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNINGS: social media stalking, shit talking exes, use of jenna and nicole (nicole is a real person tho!!! bratters gf), use of (y/n)

if i told you how much i think about her, you’d think i was in love. and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures, you would we’re best friends.

It wasn’t hard to figure out who jack’s ex was. The way he seemed to barely look her way when one of his teammates brought up the fact she was at the game. Instead of sporting a devils jersey, like she used to, she was wearing a rangers jersey, and holding a sign for a rangers player.

it also wasn’t hard to immediately become jealous of her when jack’s teammates talked about how she used to always show up to games. it almost made you feel.. belittled. especially because you had a job, you couldn’t always make jacks games, but he understood that.

by the time the game ended and you sat on a bench, waiting for jack, you’d already find yourself scrolling through her instagram. you looked at every picture, how she was such a pretty blonde. short, tan, blonde, the stereotypical puck bunny. but she knew puck.

for the next fifteen minutes— she stayed on your mind.

‘cause i know her star sign, i know her blood type, i’ve seen every movie she’s been in and god she’s beautiful. i know you loved her, and i know i’m butt hurt— but i can’t help it, no i cant help it.

of course as soon as you and jack got home, you began to search her up online. so invested in your research, when you and jack ‘went to bed,’ you carefully snuck out of the man’s arms and back to your laptop.

she was an actress, of course she was an actress. she starred in a few movies, she was amazing. you bit your nail before quickly exiting the tabs as you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps.

“baby what are you doing up? it’s 12:44, come back to bed.” he spoke, hand rubbing his eyes.

you stood up from the stool and walked over to him, your body pressing against his as your arms wrapped around his torso.

“sorry love, i was just finishing up work.” you lied.

jack just hummed and the two of you went back to your bedroom. your mind began to cloud with thoughts, thoughts of her and jack. did jack treat her the exact same way he treated you? was anything special or was it shared? you know he loved her at one point, but now he loved you, so why stay butt hurt?

i’m so obsessed with your ex, uh huh. i know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed, and i can feel it. i’m staring at her, like i wanna get hurt. and i remember every detail you have ever told me, so be careful baby. IM SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX!

it was the second game against the rangers, this time and away game. the blonde was sat in the regular stands while you were in the WAGs suite. you could see her from where you sat, and your eyes burned holes in the back of her head.

thats the woman who had jacks heart before you, the woman who slept on your side of the bed, the woman who cheated on him twice. oh you knew a lot— especially from what jack told you.

“she cheated on me with some guy on the rangers— a real work of art, both of them.” jack told you.

you didn’t realize you were zoning out until nicole, one of the other WAGs, placed a hand on your shoulder.

“you alright there lovie? you seem to be staring at something down there a little too hard.” she asked.

your eyes flickered to her. “yeah im fine— just zoned out. when i get too excited it happens.”

nicole smiled. “well— hopefully our boys can kick the rangers ass. im tired of jenna constantly texting me to rub it in my face that we lost. im not even her friend.”

jenna was jacks ex. that was her name, jenna. she was still texting some of the devils girls? even after everything? you almost laughed, but instead you out on a confused look.

“jenna?” you pretended not to know her.

“oh shes jacks ex— we can’t stand her, especially after what she did to the boy.” nicole told you.

good to know.

she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips, the life of every fuckin’ party. she’s talented, she’s good with kids, she even speaks kindly about me..

the devils won, which called for a celebration in some random club. even though you were still in new york, people congratulated the team on the win. maybe they hated the rangers too, or they were islander fans. you didn’t really expect some of the rangers to show up though, and especially not jenna.

her lips popped with the bright red lip stick she adorned. her hips swayed with every step she took in that mini silver dress. in that moment, she became the life of the party. in that moment, you felt your hands wrap around your body.

that didn’t last for long though, especially not when jack was there. his body pressed against yours as you both danced to the music. his hands gripping your waist, your arms slung around his neck. the sloppy kisses he pressed to your jaw. you had this, she didn’t.

but she had to ruin it. “wow you are so pretty!” her voice rang out. this caused jack to slowly, irritatedly pull away. your hands fell down to his arms as the smile on your face slowly turned fake.

“oh thank you.. uh do i know you?” jacks hand squeezed your waist.

jenna gave a look to jack, which you caught, before looking back at you. “one of jacks exes. you are?” she spoke.

“his girlfriend.”

and i know you love me, and i know it’s crazy.. but every time you call my name, i think you mistake me for her. you both have moved on, you don’t even talk. but i can’t help it, i got issues, i can’t help it baby.

“(y/n), baby?” jacks voice rang through the apartment. your body tensed slightly as his voice, scared that maybe he said the wrong name and that maybe you were just another jenna.

“(y/n)? have you seen my shirt?” he spoke loudly.

you sighed through your nose, “which one?”

jacks footsteps padded on the floor. you hid a smile as you sat at the kitchen island. you expected him to speak, but instead his arms wrapped around you from behind, causing you to let out a laugh.

“well it seems to be right here, isn’t that right?” he pinched at the fabric that draped over your body.

you feigned a look of innocence. “oh, you meant this one?” you smiled.

“when did you put this one on, pretty girl?” he asked you.

“it was the first shirt i found this morning. i dont find it to be too endearing walking around naked.”

jacks lips met the side of your neck, as his hands ran up and under his shirt that you wore. “mm, i dont know, i think that would be pretty nice.”

you let out a laugh as your hand reached back to play with his hair. “and let some random people see me? no thank you.”

“i guess you’re right, wouldn’t want anyone to see whats for my eyes only.” he spoke.

you hummed, feeling his kisses move to your jaw and become sloppier. “lets take this shirt off you, shall we?”

your thoughts disappeared as he dragged you to your room. there was no way he didn’t love you, not after the way he just worshipped you. oh no, he was yours, but his ex was still someone who made you worry.

is she friends with your friends? is she good in bed? do you think about her? no, im fine, it doesn’t matter tell me, is she easy-going? never controlling? well-traveled? well read? oh god, she makes me so upset! im so obsessed with your ex!

as jack left for practice, you couldn’t help but wonder about his ex. the last few questions that ran through your mind. she wasn’t friends with nicole or any of the girls, but what about his friends? her and trevor followed each other, same with her and cole.

does jack think about her often? last night at the club she seemed to piss him off by coming up to you both, maybe thats all? maybe he thinks about how much he hates her? or maybe he misses her— oh god was she good in bed?

was she easy-going? you were easy-going. so who cared. never controlling? you werent that controlling, the only thing you didnt want jack doing was liking random models pictures, and that was a set boundary because he said the same thing about random male models or hockey players (besides friends of course— for the both of you).

god jenna barely did anything to you and she made you so upset. pissed— frustrated, made you wanna pull your hair out.

you were obsessed.

im unable to tag everyone!

TAGS: @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lxnceclercs , @honethatty12 , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @lovinbarzal , @shadowsndaisies , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @Robloxlover2007 , @p3nislawd , @alexx-stancati , @queenmendes , @-eedwardss , @if-my-heart-bleeds , @love-like-woaah , @freds-slut , @sleepybesson , @love4lando , @equallyshaw , @bellstwd , @ivy-34 , @slafgoalskybaby , @hischierxx , @dancerbailey3 , @jackhughesily , @cstads-blog , @ru-kru , @sbrn0905 , @love4ldr , @loveforaugust

[leclerc-hs]

the blueprint - cl16

pairing: architect!charles leclerc x coworker!reader (fem) summary: in which you and your co-worker can't help but constantly butt-heads on projects warnings: 18+! SMUT! (obvi), kinda mean!Charles, squirting, language, some French (badly translated prob) word count: 4.1k author's note: hi I absolutely LOVED writing this. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. i didn’t proofread so if there’s any typos please let me know!!! xoxo!! please let me hear your thoughts!!!! don’t be shy

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

YOU COULD’VE SWORN you’ve never been so irritated in your life. 

“Can’t you just, I don’t know, ferme ta guele for once!” Shut the fuck up. You stood in the door of Charles’s office, a crescendo of emotion echoed in your voice, almost reaching a fervent shout. Your face, now tinged with a reddish hue, reflected just how frustrated you were. 

For a little over a year, both you and Charles had been integral parts of the same company. You, an interior designer, who occasionally delved into architecture every blue moon for fun. You never got the degree for architecture, but you loved to sketch building ideas from time to time just for fun. And then there’s him, an architect, with a stick too far up his ass sometimes.

Anger painted Charles’s demeanor, evident from the subtle reddening in his ears and the clench of his jaw. With matching frustration, he strolled behind his desk, easing into his chair. His green eyes narrowed at you, a silent yet potent communication.

“Moi?” Me? His tone was incredulous at he pointed his own fingertips at him, tapping them directly into his sweater covered chest. “Porquoi tu ne le fais pas?” Why don’t you? His voice dropped lower at the end of his sentence, while he directed his fingers to now point at you. 

You took a step further into his office, not bothering to shut the door behind you. “Tu es incroyable!” You’re unbelievable! The sarcasm dripped off your tongue as you ran a hand through your hair, your chest slightly heaving up and down. 

To which, Charles only smirked at, ignoring your sarcasm, and responded with a cocky “J’ai beaucoup entende cela.” I’ve heard that a lot. 

The memory of the initial cause of the argument had become hazy but it was likely that it stemmed from the inherent clash that seemed inevitable whenever the two of you worked together on a project. The two of you were constantly perplexed by the company’s decision to consistently pair you two together, especially because it was not a secret that you didn’t get along. However, the undeniable reason might be rooted in the remarkable success followed. Almost every building, house, or structure designed by the both of you stood out as some of the company’s best creations.

Charles couldn’t help but trace his eyes along every crevice of your face while you ranted on. He honestly wasn’t even listening as you bitched on about something you claimed he did. Instead, he was too enraptured with the way your cheeks reddened, the way your eyes narrowed at him, and the way your breasts moved with every exclamation you made. Because really, he is still a man after all and the tight button up shirt you wore was almost sinister. Like seriously, he could’ve sworn the buttons were about to pop open with each breath you took.

“Mon dieu! Even now, you’re still not listening!” You noticed the distant look in Charles’s eyes as he leaned back into his chair. It was like he was looking at you, but not at you. 

You snapped your fingers repeatedly, leaning over the desk, your breasts even more in Charles’s face now. He swore it took everything in him to look at your face, and not your perky breasts dangling in front of him.

“What?”

You stormed out of his office immediately with a loud groan. You didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

-

“Mamma mia,” Oh my god. Charles exclaimed to no one except himself as he stood tall, his hands tapping the sides of the heavy machine before him. It felt like an eternity, although it had only been about 5 minutes. The matter at hand was perfecting the model of his latest project, but the 3-D printer seemed to be malfunctioning. 

Taking a step back, he began to stare at the machine as if it were his enemy, one hand rested on his hip. A million thoughts ran through his mind as to what could possibly be wrong with the machine. No matter how many times he tried, the layers seemed to be separating far too much, deeming each piece of his model printed earlier as garbage.

The fragrance of sandalwood, laced with a subtle sweetness of vanilla, announced your presence before he could even lay eyes on you. The warm and captivating scent enveloped him, much like it always did. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger in annoyance that he knew it was you without even having to turn around. Without turning his head, he spoke up, catching your attention abruptly.

“Sais-tu comment réparer cela?” Do you know how to fix this?

It was one of the rare occasions when he addressed you without any trace of hatred in his words.  Your mouth hung slack in surprise, and you almost felt the need to rub your eyes in disbelief at the fact there was no back-handed comment involved.

For a few moments, you just stared at the back of his head. Unable to understand why he was even asking for your help in the first place. When he got impatient of waiting for a response, he spun his body around, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and eyes pointed at you. 

“Hm?” Snapping out of your surprise, you urged him to continue, seeking clarification on what he was referring to. Charles couldn’t help but take note of the tight black jumpsuit that you wore, a black and gold belt cinched at your waist. He felt his heart pound in his chest just a little bit more than normal at the accentuation of your curves as you stepped in front of him, acknowledging the curve of your ass before him.

“It, uh..” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed away his thoughts of your ass. You turned to look at him, waiting for him to finish his words. His cheeks slightly tinted pink as he offers a sheepish smile to you, “it keeps separating the layers too much.”

You nodded your head slowly, “Je déteste quand ça fait ça.” I hate when it does that. You quietly agreed with him, before playing with some of the buttons on the machine. Without any luck of fixing it on your own, your eyes lit up like a light bulb as you remembered Josh, one of your other co-workers, solved this issue before.

“Let me get Josh!” You uttered the name with such excitement that Charles felt an involuntary growl building within him. Josh, a fellow architect at the firm, seemed uncomfortably close to you for Charles’s liking. Not that he cared or anything, but few things irked him more than witnessing you and Josh together in the office like two peas in a pod. The way Josh shamelessly flirted with you constantly only added to his irritation. Not that he liked you or anything, but that didn’t mean he hasn’t thought about shoving you face down over his desk and stuffing you full of his cock. Or that he hasn’t thought of you pressed against the windows of his office, your bare chest against the glass as he slips his cock into your wet folds. Or that he hasn’t thought about shoving his cock so deep into your throat just to get you to be quiet sometimes. 

It was like the flip of a switch, Charles’s irritation pouring out of him, as he spontaneously stomped away from the printing room. Trudging back to his office, leaving you behind in confusion. The last thing he wanted to see was you and Josh fixing something for him.

-

“She’s such a fucking know it all,” Charles groans to a group of his co-workers, bringing the neck of the beer bottle to his lips before taking a swig. His eyes have been following your every move since you stepped foot in the banquet hall tonight.

 It was the 42nd annual office party, which may sound boring at first, but it always ends up with some chaotic story. Last year it was Jane, one of the executive assistants, who got way too drunk she vomited right by the CEO’s feet. The year before that it was Nick, a man who is part of the custodial staff, who went almost too crazy on the dance floor that he knocked a handful of people down and resulted in multiple broken glasses around the place. All in all, the office party is usually the opposite of a bore.

And tonight, Charles decides that it’s definitely not a bore when he spots your outfit for the night. Charles doesn’t miss the curve of your ass as your back faces him, or the fact that Josh’s hand rests lightly against the small of your back either.

You’re dressed to kill tonight. A long silky black gown rests tightly against your skin, aside from the bottom that fans out much like a mermaid tail. The neckline wraps around your neck much like a scarf, a long tail of it falling at your side. 

Charles was so focused on Josh’s hand on you, that he didn’t even hear his co-workers speaking to him until they shoved his shoulder lightly.

“Dude, do you like her or something?”

“Or something.” Charles said with such disgust and hatred laced in his voice. “I don’t know why I always have to get paired with her.” He finished his beer in a hasty speed as you head towards the bar, excusing himself from his friends as he made his way to the same area.

The grip he had on the neck of the empty bottle was so tight, it was close to breaking in the palm of his hand. He leans against the bar, staring straight ahead as he waits for the bartender to acknowledge him.

“What’s got you all wound up?” Sandalwood and Vanilla.

He turns his head, to you and a smiling Josh at your side. He wants to roll his eyes almost immediately. What he would give to be able to punch him right in the face for even being able to touch you. He doesn’t bother to respond to you, turning his head back to the bar.

He’s sick in the head, honestly. He knows he approached the bar only to be closer to you but then ignores you as soon as you’re near. To get some glimpse of you. To smell you. To hear your voice. 

You hate the rejection. No matter how much he grinds your gears, you always try to be polite. You don’t want to argue with him. It’s honestly exhausting to stay arguing with him almost every day. On your first day of work, you actually thought you could be friends, until he opened his mouth and rudely dismissed you. It only made you work harder.

Charles got his drink and made his way back to his group of ‘friends’. He didn’t look at you the rest of the night.

At least until you both crossed paths outside the venue. Josh had left earlier in the night due to not feeling well, leaving you alone, with no jacket, as you tried to call for a ride home. 

Charles’s hands were shoved in the pockets of his dress pants as he approached you, awaiting for the valet to pull his car around. “Where is your jacket?” He questioned, simply curious.

“Why do you care?” You remarked back, a hint of annoyance in your voice. “You ignored me earlier and now you want to talk to me?” 

Charles felt his patience wearing thin, especially at the sight of the goosebumps all over your skin and the chatter of your teeth between each word you spoke. Your nipples were rock hard, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Charles. He felt the blood rush to his cock as his eyes quickly glanced at them. 

He rolled his eyes before shoving his suit jacket off and tossing it over your shoulders. “Can’t have my partner getting sick.” He began, “The project is due too soon for you to call out.” He pulled the excuse out of his ass. Because really, how was he supposed to say that he cared? That he cared about the woman he’s an absolute dick too.

You wanted to argue, he could see the detest in your eyes, but you snuggled into the jacket anyways. Appreciating his gesture and the warmth of the jacket.

The valet pulled his car up, opening the door for Charles, to which Charles handed him a crisp bill for fetching the car for him. You stood on the sidewalk, Charles’s jacket swallowing your body whole, a small breeze blowing the front pieces of your hair off your face. You looked beautiful, and Charles’s knew it was a complete lie if he said other.

“Get in,” He motioned the passenger door open, not bothering to wait for your response before he grasped your small forearm and ushering you into the seat. The car smelt just like him. A smell you wanted to bury yourself in, regardless how annoying he was.

Charles wove through the streets at a leisurely pace, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his knee. The radio volume was low, playing a song you couldn’t remember the name of, as you stared out the window and directed Charles to your home.

He wanted to argue that he knows where it is. That he’s already been there before because one time he went to check on you because you didn’t show up to work without calling in (which was very abnormal). That it’s the building right next to his. But he doesn’t say it and just lets you direct him anyways, just so he can hear your voice a little more. He was greedy when it came to you.

Within a few minutes, he pulled in front of your building, placing the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. You sat silently after unbuckling your own seatbelt, trying to decipher his mood. You never knew what mood you were going to get, but most of the time it was annoyance and anger.

You turned to look at him and your eyes instantly met with his, as he was already looking at you. “Merci.” Your words were soft as you spoke, reaching for the door handle, he stopped you.

“You should dress warmer,” His lips lifted into a small grin, “It’s too cold and I can’t handle this project without you.”

Although it was work related, it was probably the closest compliment you’ve ever received from him. If you wanted to count it as a compliment. You felt your cheeks turn pink at his confession. Who are you? You don’t blush at Charles Leclerc. The architect with a stick up his ass. The guy who grates your every nerve. The guy who is undeniably hot and smells so good, you think about it more often than you want to admit.

“I’ll remember that.” Your hand goes to reach for the car door handle, but he stops you. His muscular arm stretches across your lap, grabbing the door and holding it in place from opening. He’s now practically stretched across the small space of the car, his scent enveloping you, the warmth of his body heating you right up. A small smirk formed on Charles lips as he noticed how flustered you were getting towards his proximity.

“Are you and Josh dating?” It was a simple question, but the words felt like acid on his tongue. You couldn’t help but notice the displeased look on his face as he straightens his body, providing more space between the two of you.

Your eyes widened in shock before muttering a quick, “No!” You coughed slightly, almost choking on your shock. 

“Bien.” Good.  Was all he said, before unlocking the doors, giving you the go ahead to get out of the car. It was when you were about three steps from the car door that he rolled down the window and said, “You can return the jacket at work.”

-

It’s today, that Charles decides he has had it up to here. If he must witness Josh’s fingers graze your skin one more time, he swears he will combust. So, to make himself feel some relief of his anger, he starts a fight with you. Naturally.

“It’s a shitty plan and even you know it!” 

Honestly, it is a shit plan. And Charles knows that it’s a shit one too, but he would never admit that to you. Not when he is this pent up over fucking Josh. Not when it gives him an excuse to spend more time with you.

Which is what led you into his office, the clock nearing midnight, as you both are sprawled (as much as you can be) around his desk. The current plans of the project are scattered everywhere and not one other person, beside the both of you, are within the offices floor.

Your hair had made its way into a clip, leaving your neck uncovered and exposed. Charles’s found himself often staring at the nape of your neck when you weren’t looking. His desire to litter marks all over it was growing with each second that he spent in your proximity. Sandalwood and Vanilla.

“Is there a reason you’re always so mean to me?”

The words caught him completely off guard as he lifted his pencil, leaning back in his chair to face you more. You looked beautiful, like always. He could feel the burn in his chest as the words left your lips.

He was silent for a moment. Contemplating if he’s supposed to tell you that he’s mean to you because he doesn’t know how to act around you. That he’s mean to you because he wants to fuck you so badly, it consumes his every thought. That he’s mean to you because you are mean to him too.

“You’re not innocent either,” He remarks. His eyes shifting back to the drawing in front of him. Honestly, the plans weren’t looking much better but you both refused to give up.

You nodded your head slowly in agreement. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you were snippier towards him for no reason. It probably had to do with the fact that almost every week since you met, you’ve had to use your vibrator to the thought of him to ease the burn in your stomach just enough to get through the day.

You both didn’t know what it was about each other. You got under each other’s skin like no other.

And it wasn’t until he brought his eyes back to you, green meeting yours, that he noticed the dilation in your pupils. He could no longer pretend that he didn’t want you. It was killing him.

His hand grasps the back of your neck in a tight grip, asserting his dominance, as he pulls you into him. Your lips smashing into each other. He wasted no time before slipping his tongue directly into your mouth, moaning in the process as you let him in with such ease.

Your taut nipples poked through fabric of your bralette underneath the silk top you wore. Charles kept one hand on the back of your neck, pressing you into him, while the other slipped into the buttoned shirt, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

He groaned hotly into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of your breast, something he’s always wanted to do.

You crawled your way into his lap, the short skirt riding up your waist as you straddled his lap in the desk chair. You grinded against his thigh, moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every moan you gave, his hands eventually sliding down to your hips and guiding your movement.

“You drive me fucking crazy, chérie.” He spoke the words in between kisses, the sentence sounding broken as your tongue swirled around his.

“Are we really doing this?” You pulled away, unable to stop the motion of your hips as you stared at him. His hair was in complete disarray, lips swollen from kissing you so hard, and his eyes were half-shut like he was drunk off of your kisses.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he places his hands onto the backside of your thighs and lifted you as he came to a stance, placing you directly on the edge of his desk before him.

You both were frantic, ripping off each other’s clothes as fast as you could in between the wet, hot open-mouthed kisses. It wasn’t long before you were almost completely nude, aside from the mini skirt bunched above your waist, and sprawled along his desk with his hard cock stretching the velvet walls of your pussy with a delicious burn. His thumb pressed tiny but firm circles on your swollen clit, leaving you delusional on his desk.

His lips trailed all over your body. They moved from the spot right below your ear, to the underside of your jaw, up to the corner of your mouth.

“Feel so fucking good, chérie.” He groaned. His hips moving at a fervent pace, you don’t think you would last much longer, especially with his hot words whispered into the shell of your ear.

He pulled away from you for a moment, just to stare at how fucked you were. Your hair was no longer in a clip, seeing as he pulled it out of your hair and tossed it across his office just mere minutes ago. Your cheeks and chest were flushed, and the bounce of your tits almost had him cumming on the spot.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He confesses. The words jumbling off his lips as he ruts against you, the large wooden desk pushing forward with each powerful thrust of his hips into you. The office walls echoed your moans, you were practically screaming in pleasure for the entire world to hear.

You nodded your head repeatedly, unable to form the words, too drunk off the feeling of his cock pressing against the very spot that ached the most for him. Because you too, wanted this for so long.

“Yeah?” He smugly asks. “You wanted this too?” He slows his hips down, but it doesn’t lessen the effect of just how good his cock feels against you. Your walls are clamped around him tightly, not wanting to let him go.

“Mhm,” you groaned. “Needed this so bad….needed you” You words were almost incoherent as he spits directly onto your clit, his thumb now speeding up the little circles he’s been doing all this time.

He had to pinch his eyes shut at the confession, almost sending him to release his cum right into you. “Mon dieu,” His voice grumbles, reverberating in his chest as he leans over your body on the desk, trailing his tongue and sucking on your nipple.

“I’m gonna,” you begin. “fuck, fuck,” It takes a few seconds of Charles sucking on your nipple before the burn deep in your stomach completely takes over, sending your legs spasming around his waist. Your orgasm was explosive and wet. You don’t think you’ve ever experienced this before as you squeeze around Charles’s cock so tightly, he feels like he can barely move his cock. 

“Fucking, mmm,” He can barely get full sentences out as you squirt all over his cock and onto the papers of his desk. “That’s a good girl,” He stands up tall, watching you thrash around on his desk, and the now soaked plans beneath your body.

“Doing so good for me.”

“Feels so fucking good”

“So fucking beautiful”

“Does my cock feel as good as you feel to me?” 

With a few more mumbled phrases spewing out of Charles’s lips, his own orgasm hits him, as he pulls out quickly, his hot cum landing directly across your stomach in a gooey string.

You both were panting, unable to form words as he collapses his chest down onto you. The ability to stand lost on him as his pants rest at his ankles. Your chests move in sync as you catch your breaths, Charles’s cum pressed to both of your skin.

“Looks like we need to re-do the plans again.” Charles jokes which quickly earns a soft chuckle from your lips in response.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Jock x F! Bookworm reader pt.3

A/N: This chapter is more of a domestic life chapter.

TW: Dubcon, somnophilia, taking reader's birth control mention

Wanna but me a coffee: ☕

"Hey, Y/N, now that we're married, why don't we consum-" Brad flirts, loosening his tie and undoing his pants.

"Consume some food, yes. What a wonderful idea," You say, sitting on the bed and turning on the TV.

"Ugghh! Why do you keep avoiding sex with me?!" Brad groans, sitting on the bed next to you.

"You know why, Brad," You reply, not paying attention to your husband.

Ever since Brad tricked you into saying yes to his proposal for marriage by fucking you while he proposed, you've held a grudge. You didn't mind marrying him, but what angered you is that's how you're going to remember your proposal. Not being proposed to at an important place, a fancy restaurant, or near the beach, but on Brad's cum and sweat-covered bed while he rails you from behind. There was also the matter of the missing birth control pills, which infuriated you because you needed them for your period cramps.

"Baby, if you're still mad about the proposal, I can redo it. I thought you'd think it was cute to get a proposal after sex," Brad replies, touching your arm. "If you're that mad, I got a honeymoon gift for you."

You turn to look at Brad and see a giant carrot plushie.

"A carrot?" You question, looking at the zipper.

"Unzip it," Brad squeals, making you worried.

You unzip the carrot, and a bunny comes from inside (this plushie is real and very cute: https://lavenderconstellation.store/products/reversible-carrot-strawberry-bunny-plushies?variant=41187145121849).

"Aww, I'm slightly less mad at you now," You coo, kissing Brad on the cheek. "Still not going to have sex with you, though."

Brad groans, and he face plants onto his pillow. The two of you go to sleep until you're woken up by a force plowing into your pussy.

"Mm, Brad, what are you doing?" You groan, trying to lift your head only for it to be pushed back onto the pillow.

"Stay down, I'm almost-ah-finished," Brad groans, slamming his cock into you again.

You would've laid still and let him finish inside you, but a spark of rebellion rises in your chest. You raise your butt and start throwing your ass back onto Brad. He realizes what you're doing and slaps your ass hard.

"Keep fucking with me like that, and we'll never leave this room," Brad growls, making you blush. "Or maybe you'd like that?"

Brad finishes inside you, then leaves a trail of kisses down your neck. His hands roam your chest, leaving you no option but to moan into your pillow.

"What happened to the bride who didn't want to fuck her husband?" Brad teases, rubbing your stomach. "Wait a minute."

You've been caught. Although you were mad at Brad for the proposal and birth control, there was also the secret of your pregnancy that you kept from him. You knew that he's been suffering from baby fever ever since you two fucked in the school library. If he found out you were pregnant, he'd be worse than any bridezilla in existence.

"Y/N, are you pregnant?" Brad asks, pulling out of you.

"Yes. I did a pregnancy test three weeks before our wedding. Right now, I'm about nine weeks," You say, pulling up your shirt and showing your husband the little belly bump.

Brad suddenly hugs you tightly and kisses your stomach.

"I'm a dad! You're going to be a mom! We're going to be parents!" Brad happily exclaims, kissing every part of your body.

This is the happiest you've seen him since you danced with him during prom and your college graduation. You liked seeing him this way instead of the lustful, jealous, obsessive personality that scares you at times. Even if you did like a jealousy-fueled fucking, you don't like seeing your lover constantly in emotional distress and scared he'll lose you.

"So, can we go to the beach now?" You ask, making Brad look at you with confusion.

"Are you kidding me? No! What if you trip and fall while walking on the sand? What if you get hit by a beachball or stray umbrella? So many things could go wrong? You're staying here with me where I can pamper and protect you," Brad rambles, kissing your cheek. "Now, do you have any cravings because I can order room service?"

You have fed and fucked the monster, and now you've made it grow into an overprotective mate that will kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way.

"Brad, I'll be fine. I've been fine these past nine weeks," You argue, sitting up and moving off the bed.

"Y/N, get back on the bed where it's safe," Brad commands, his voice becoming deeper.

"I'm just standing up. In cases you didn't know, I can't lay on a bed for seven days straight. My legs will atrophy."

"I'm not playing with you today."

Brad grabs your hands and pulls you onto his lap. His furious eyes make your body go hot, and you obey your husband. After five years, his yandere tendencies have become a turn-on for you. Your subconscious told you not to find it attractive in any way, but pregnancy hormones are fucking with your brain.

"Come here," You squeal, grabbing the collar of your husband's pajamas and pulling it. "Act like that again and make me go crazy."

Brad smirks, then goes down on you. His lovebites bruise your neck, breasts, and shoulders, decorating you with red spots. He lovingly kisses your stomach and lays his head on it for a few seconds. Brad spreads your legs and begins to worship your pussy. He kisses and bites your clit, making you scream so loud the people next door could think you're being murdered. You keep a hand on Brad's head, slowly tugging it to signal your levels of pleasure. Brad sticks his tongue inside you, and you go wild. Your hand tugs Brad's hair so hard you could see him wince in pain.

"Easy, baby. I don't need my hair being pulled out," Brad says, looking at you. "Just relax and enjoy the ride. I've been fucking you for five years. I know what your body wants and how it reacts."

You let go of Brad's hair and lay your hands at your sides. He resumes eating you out, occasionally smiling from seeing you struggle to touch him. You cum on his tongue, making the last of your energy dissipate. Before Brad gets a chance to sit up, you're already demanding food.

"Of course, my darling, and our baby or babies need nutrients," Brad replies, kissing your inner thigh. "I'll read out the menu so you don't have to waste energy reading it."

"But I still have to waste energy comprehending what each dish and drink is. Then, I have to choose what I want," You reply, making sure to get the best out of Brad.

"You're right! I'll read the descriptions, and then you can order whatever you want," Brad replies, opening up the hotel's menu. "You know what, I'll just pick out what you want."

Brad picks up the phone and orders a buffet of food from the hotel's restaurant.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Crack another leg for me," You demand, eating a crab leg and tossing an empty one into a large pile.

"Yes, my darling," Brad answers, cracking multiple legs and handing it to you. "The cake I baked you should be ready in another 30 minutes."

"That's great. Can you stop by Barnes and Noble while you do your grocery run and get this list of books?" You ask, enjoying your food.

"Sure. Sweetie, there's not one parenting book on this list. You need to start learning how to parent before you give-"

"Ugh! I'm so hungry! I can feel the nutrients not reaching my baby!" You dramatically cry, making Brad stop worrying and return to feeding you.

Your marriage proposal may not have been the best, but having Brad bend to your every whim for the next eight months is a good replacement.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 8] Megumi's Baseball Game

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You’re more tired than you’d like to be. A week passes and Megumi’s baseball games approaches, and you’re thinking of skipping out on it. It’s not like he’ll miss you a lot. Staying home sounds tempting, but then you think about how going to his game gives you an excuse to go out to eat. And even if he won’t miss you, he’ll appreciate having you there. 

After much pondering, you decide to call Toji. You’ll be going to the same place after all, you don’t want to take public transportation nor do you want to spend extra money on a taxi. The phone doesn’t ring twice before he picks up.

“Hello?” He answers, and regret begins to consume you as you hear his voice. Do you really want to see Toji? Sit in the car with him for that long? You stay silent for a moment, and Toji repeats himself.

“Hi, Toji.” You respond, and you debate on hanging up right away. A butt dial? Would he buy that?

“Hi, baby. Is everything okay? Is there something wrong?” He asks, doubting that you’d willingly call him. Every second passes slowly as he waits for your answer.

“I’m going to Megumi’s game… Can you pick me up?” You ask, and Toji doesn’t waste a moment to answer.

“Yes. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Which takes you by surprise since you thought the game was a bit later. You hang up and go to your room to change into something that’s not your pajamas– But something comfortable nonetheless. 

You won’t put effort into your look, you shouldn’t. You’re just going to watch Megumi play a baseball game, and you’ll be with your ex-husband. You shouldn’t put any effort into your look, but you do. You wear just a tad bit of makeup and put on a cute outfit. You definitely put in a bit of effort even if you didn’t consciously intend to.

Toji knocks on your door earlier than the time he had given you, and luckily you finish getting ready right at that moment. You open the door for him, and he looks more relaxed than usual, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a long sleeve black compression shirt. It’s much different than his usual business wear.

“Are you ready to go?” Toji asks, and you nod your head in response. You know he won’t comment on how pretty you look, on how the shade of pink really goes well with your skin tone, on how you’re literally glowing– Toji has never been the type to really praise your looks.

You walk to his car and get in, where a silent car ride begins. You think about speaking first, but you bite your tongue. You’ll feel like when you were married, constantly trying to start a one-sided conversation that’ll lead nowhere. If he wants to talk, he needs to start the conversation himself.

“So um… Is your morning sickness getting better?” Toji clears his throat, deciding to use his voice. There’s no point for all the silence, it eats him alive, yet, he doesn’t want to put on any music. He wants to hear your voice because he rarely hears it anymore. He wishes he had videos of you talking so he could hear your voice when he feels like it’s faded in his short memory.

“Not really.” You answer. Of all topics that he could bring up, that’s certainly the last one that you want to talk about. Instead of leaving him with the dry response, you change the topic to something else in your pregnancy that’s been bugging you. “I’ve been having some really weird cravings lately.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Last night I wanted bacon drizzled in caramel… And it still sounds so good right now.” You share, and he scrunches his nose up, slightly disgusted. That doesn’t sound too appetizing. Yet he still says,

“Whenever you want something, call me and I’ll try to see what I can do.” Which surprises you. You weren’t expecting him to say that, and it brings a small smile to your lips. You know why he says it, why he’s suddenly part of a man that you wish you would’ve had as your husband. But you still smile, feeling a flake of happiness in you.

“The laundry detergent was also smelling so good–” You begin, but he cuts you off.

“If you want to drink laundry detergent, do it after you have the baby.” He says, which makes you chuckle. You feel as he slowly grows accustomed to the idea of your pregnancy, how he slowly grows excited at the thought of becoming a father again. It makes you happier than you’d like. You were set on having your baby on your own, raising them alone, yet you feel happy when Toji becomes happy about his baby. 

You get to the parking lot of the baseball field, and you find that the game has already started. You follow Toji to take a seat, and you sit quietly amongst a group of rowdy parents and teenagers– It’s a high school baseball game (not even varsity at that), it can’t be that serious. But you do feel the excitement when Megumi goes up to pitch, and you’re smiling ear to ear as you watch him. You do cheer him on, but you aren’t as loud as the rest. It encourages Toji to do the same, but he doesn’t do much, he just whistles.

“I hope I’m not too late.” You’re startled by Toji’s friend, Shiu, as he approaches where you sit. He takes a seat behind you, and just by catching a glimpse of his face, you’re pissed off. Sure, Shiu was very helpful when he helped you move, but you’re still pissed that he left you with Toji of all people. 

Toji greets his buddy while you ignore him. You don’t want to talk to Shiu, and you don’t have to either. No one will force you to talk to Shiu.

“I don’t think Megumi noticed you were missing.” Toji comments, turning his attention back to the game. Shiu smacks the back of Toji’s head, and Toji rolls his eyes. It’s their usual banter, of course you won’t pay much attention to them. Toji throws his arm over your shoulder, and brings you into his embrace, which you don’t fight. 

“It’s weird to find you here.” Shiu speaks up. You’re not together anymore… He understands why you’re here, you have your own bond with Megumi that’s separate from your relationship with Toji, but why is he throwing his arm over you and why aren’t you pushing him away? You don’t answer though, you clearly don’t want to talk to him.

“I forgot to tell you, Shiu. We’re having a baby.” Toji announces, and Shiu’s eyes go wide. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting a lot of stuff but certainly not that. Many questions come into his head, but it’s best for him to stay quiet. But he has to ask one question that’ll eat him up alive if he doesn’t–

“Are you two back together?” He asks, and you get Toji’s arm off your shoulder.

“No. We’re not back together.” You answer, and Toji glares at Shiu. Shiu bites his tongue, knowing that this isn’t the time or place to ask all the questions that flood his mind. What the hell are you going to do?

You watch the rest of the game in silence. When it’s done, you and Toji approach Megumi. He’s with his friends so it’s awkward. When he finally turns his attention to you, he leans in for a hug which you’re reluctant to return since he’s all sweaty. But you still hug him. 

“You had a great game, Megumi. You did such a great job.” You praise him, and he smiles at you.

“How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you much, just what dad has to say… But I don’t trust him all that much.” He says, a chuckle leaving your lips at his comment.

“I’ve been doing good, Megumi. But I want to know how you’re doing? How’s school?” You begin to chat with him, and Toji listens in. He taps his foot on the ground, his patience slowly running out. Sure, it’s nice to see that you two have a bond and whatnot but it’s boring for him to just stand idle.

“How about we go out for food and you two can chat there? Shiu is also waiting for us.” Toji cuts off the conversation, doubting that he can stand still for another minute.

“I actually have plans to go out to eat with my friends.” Megumi says, and Toji frowns as he crosses his arms.

“With whose permission?” Toji responds. You usually don’t get involved when similar issues happen, you did once and Toji reminded you that you weren’t Megumi’s parent. But today is different, mainly because Toji is trying to earn your forgiveness, and you use it to your advantage.

“You can go, Megumi. Have fun.” Your arm intertwines with Toji’s, and you give him doe eyes as you look up at him. “Give him some money, Toji.”

Toji huffs as he reaches for his wallet. He gives Megumi some money, and you say your goodbyes before walking away. You know you shouldn’t have stepped in, but Toji won’t scold you for it, especially when your arms are intertwined. You let go of him after a couple of steps since your work with helping Megumi is done.

Your stomach growls, and it’s loud and clear, making your face grow warm of embarrassment. You still smile and say, “Let’s go out to eat.”

“Is that why you sent Megumi off? So we could eat alone?” Toji asks, and it fuels his ego. You have a smirk on your face when you tell him,

“What about Shiu? Are you just going to leave him all alone?”

“To hell with him.” He scoffs. “He’s a grown man, I didn’t even invite him here. I’m not paying for his food.”

“You can convince him to pay yours. Use the fact that you’re having a baby, guilt trip him.” You give him some useful advice, especially since you don’t want to be all alone with him. You don’t trust yourself a lot, especially not lately. Not because you’ve forgiven him and want to get back with him, but because you’re hormonal and don’t trust your body to not make a sudden move.

“You’re right… Let’s do that.” Toji says, his hand going up in the air and waving at Shiu before he calls out, “Hey, Shiu! Let’s go out to eat!”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You try to keep it together as much as you can in Annapolis, but that's easier said than done. Bradley realizes that while this week feels unbearable, a deployment would be much worse. And you cautiously tell Bradley there are two people you think should be the first ones to know about the baby.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Monday morning came way too early on the east coast, especially when you barely slept and couldn't stop throwing up. "Why?" you groaned from your spot on the floor next to the toilet. You had exactly three hours until you had to give your presentation at 10:00, but Cat was already texting you from her hotel room across the hallway about getting breakfast. You'd be lucky if you could stomach a single peanut butter cracker and squeeze yourself into your uniform on time. 

You crawled back out to the bedroom and rummaged in your suitcase for one of the ginger candies Bradley packed for you. It couldn't hurt at this point, so you shoved it in your mouth and pulled yourself up onto the bed. It was amazing that you could possibly feel this shitty. Your ribs and back hurt from constantly throwing up, and you were starting to feel dehydrated, but the idea of drinking something was too taxing to even consider.

"Why are you so mean?" you moaned as you rolled onto your side, letting your hand rest on your belly. "I actually love you, and you're being so mean to me all the time. Why?" You sucked on the candy and laughed. "You'll prefer your dad, I can already tell." 

You kind of wanted to call him, but you didn't want to wake him up at four in the morning, so you settled on trying to get dressed instead. It was amazing that you did nothing but throw up, yet you were still all bloated and puffy. Your khaki pants were a little too snug for comfort, but you had no other option at the moment. When you looked at your butt in the mirror, you shrugged. 

"Whatever," you whispered, buttoning your shirt as your stomach growled angrily. "Please, make up your mind," you begged your body as you heard a knock at your door. You pasted on a fake smile and opened it to reveal Cat Coleman looking like a million fucking dollars while you looked like a sewer rat. "Morning," you rasped.

Her eyes went a little wide as she pushed your door open. "Did you not get any sleep? You look awful."

You huffed out a breath, realizing you buttoned your shirt up wrong. "I'm fine," you muttered as you fixed it. "I'm just not quite ready to go yet."

"Yes, I gathered that much," she replied, eying you up and down. "Are you going to be able to present today? Because I can't do this without you."

You shot her a scathing look. "Of course I can present today. I'm fine. Great. Golden." You were in all honesty on the verge of throwing up again.

"Okay," she said with zero conviction. "Well, just knock on my door when you want to grab some breakfast and head over to the Naval Academy."

"Will do," you promised her. As soon as she was gone, you gagged into the toilet one more time before brushing your teeth and putting on enough makeup to hide the fact that it looked like you were going to fall over. 

You felt weak as you tried to eat a pack of crackers so your stomach had something in it. This was a lot easier when Bradley was with you, rubbing your back and holding a glass of cold water for you to take sips from. You moaned softly and fought against the tears. If you thought about him too long, you were going to cry. Or worse... start to get turned on. 

"I don't have time for this," you whined as you checked your phone. How was it already 8:00? Fuck, it was still too early to call Bradley, but now your mom and dad were both texting you to see if you were coming for dinner on Thursday. You knew you were going to have to invite Cat to come with you, since you only had one rental car. The idea of trying to get through the night with all of them was too much to consider at the moment. 

Ignore it. Ignore everything. That was all you could do. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Focus on the presentation. Focus on not throwing up. That was the key.

You knocked on Cat's door, and she opened it immediately, dragging the tub of equipment out into the hallway with her. "It's late, so I figured we would eat breakfast and then head right to the conference?"

"Sure," you replied, picking up one end of the tub. But it really was heavy, and you struggled to get it to the elevator with her. "I'm actually not that hungry, so we can just get whatever you want on the way."

Cat scoffed. "I wanted to eat at Waffle House. I miss Annapolis so much."

Just thinking about the sticky floors and smell of maple syrup was turning your stomach at the moment. "Maybe we can do that tomorrow morning instead? Since we don't have our second presentation until Wednesday?"

"Fine," Cat agreed, and the two of you took the bin out to the rental car. She offered to drive, and you let her. Apparently you fell asleep on the ten minute ride, and she had to wake you up to go through security. "They want your ID card to get through the gate," she said, shaking your shoulder. 

"Oh," you groaned, digging it out of your pocket and handing it to her. 

"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" she whispered as the guards inspected the car.

"Just jetlag," you promised, resisting the urge to roll down the window and barf. "I'm totally fine. Let's get this show on the road."

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

Bradley poked at his burrito bowl in the cafeteria. Even the green hot sauce wasn't helping his mood since you couldn't actually eat it right now. It was just making him sad. He'd written five pages in the notebook for the baby, but it just made him miss you more. He wondered what you were doing right now. Surely your presentation must be over, but he hadn't heard from you. Maybe you had already checked in with Bickel. Maybe he should go up and talk to your boss and see?

"Wow," Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus, Rooster."

"I'm sorry," he replied, trying to give her his full attention. "What did you say?"

"I asked you three times if you wanted to go see the new Tom Cruise movie with me tonight. I have a coupon for a free large popcorn that's about to expire."

"Yes. Absolutely." He'd do anything to keep himself busy this week. "What time?"

"6:30. I'll pick you up so you can call your wife from the car and talk to her before she goes to sleep east coast time."

"Sounds good," he agreed, taking his phone out to let you know about his plans. After work, when he was eating a bowl of cereal for dinner, you finally wrote back. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: The first presentation went pretty well. Have fun at the movie. I love you.

"That's it?" he asked Tramp after reading the message twice. Nat knocked on the door at the same time he called you. 

When you answered with a soft, "Roo," followed by a groan, he had to take a deep breath.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he headed for the front door to let his friend in.

"No," you moaned. "I had a rough day. I feel disgusting, and now your voice is making me horny."

This was admittedly not the best time for phone sex. He paused as he said, "Nat just got here, but if you need me to cancel the movie plans, I can do that."

"No," you gasped, "don't cancel your plans. Go have fun. We can talk tomorrow."

He shook his head as he said, "I'd rather talk to you now. I'll cancel."

"No! We can talk now. Put me on speaker so I can say hi to Nat."

"Fine," he agreed, unlocking and opening his front door. Tramp made a run for Nat as Bradley tapped the icon for speakerphone and said, "My wife wants to say hi to you."

His best friend took the phone right out of his hand and had a full conversation with you while she rummaged through the refrigerator and helped herself to a seltzer. Bradley stood there as patiently as he could, simultaneously feeling annoyed that you were telling Nat all about your presentation while also feeling relieved that he remembered to hide the ultrasound photos. You and his friend laughed and laughed together, and then he started tapping his wrist to get her to move things along.

"We'll be late," he told Nat, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Here's your husband back," she told you. "Have fun in Annapolis. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone less annoying."

"Don't tell her that," Bradley said as he turned off speakerphone. "Don't listen to her, Sweetheart."

But you were just laughing now as he held the phone to his ear and followed Nat out to the driveway. He had to kick aside so much trash to get in her car, he was about to offer to drive instead, but she was already starting the engine. "This is fucking disgusting," he told her, covering the mouthpiece of his phone. "Clean your shit."

She just tore out of the driveway and said, "Talk to your wife before we get to the theater."

"Are you in the car?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. Unfortunately," he grunted. "Can you tell me about your presentation?"

"I nailed it even though I threw up so much this morning," you told him, but then you moaned. "Am I on speakerphone?" 

"No."

"Bradley! I am so fucking horny, Daddy!" Your voice was extra whiny, and the last thing Bradley wanted was an erection in front of his best friend, but he could hear in your voice how badly you needed him. "I was talking to Commander Patterson after my presentation, and I swear Roo, he asked me if Top Gun aviation was a good fit for me, and all I could think about was your cock the whole time. I even told him that things from Top Gun aviation are a really snug fit for me!"

Bradley felt his cheeks warm up. He had no idea who Commander Patterson was, but he said, "I think Top Gun aviation is the place for you, Sweetheart. Nothing else is gonna fit you quite right."

"Bradley!" you whined, and the sound went straight to his cock as Nat adjusted the air conditioner settings. "Fuck, you remember that time you fucked me in the back of our Bronco after I texted you dirty photos at dinner?"

"Yeah," he grunted, closing his eyes and actually trying not to think about it.

"Remember on our honeymoon when you finger fucked your cum into my pussy and then traced my tattoo?"

He growled out your first name. "I absolutely do, but I think perhaps we should talk about that later?"

"Yes, yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm going to get my vibrators out and listen to old voicemail messages you left for me so I can get off, okay? Have fun at the movie. I love you."

The call went dead right as Nat pulled into the parking lot, and the trash at Bradley's feet shifted as she went careening over a speed bump. He was trying to catch his breath. All he really wanted was a little more information about your presentation and to make sure you and the nugget were okay, but what he got was a semi that he was trying to keep at bay.

"If I get nachos and a soft pretzel and popcorn will you eat some?" she asked as she parked. 

"Yeah," he grunted as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

"Listen," Nat said as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "I know you miss her, and rightfully so since she's way cooler than you, but if you just give me one word answers all night, it's going to piss me off."

"Sorry," he added, trying to remember how to talk. Right now you were possibly getting off while listening to old voicemail messages that you kept? Of him just talking to you? Jesus, why was that making him so hot?

Nat was glaring at him now. He needed to focus.

"I'm sorry. No more one word answers. Let's go. It's time for Tom Cruise."

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

When you woke up on Tuesday, you were snuggled up and so warm, you reached for Bradley. "Roo?" But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sterile looking hotel room through your blurry vision. Now you remembered talking to Nat and Bradley on the phone before masturbating and falling asleep. When you sat up in bed, you definitely didn't feel as awful as you expected. And when you eased yourself to standing, you were surprised that your stomach didn't lurch. 

You had one text message from your husband, and when you put your glasses on to read it, you laughed. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: baby girl, i'm going to need you to describe in detail for me exactly how you got off. while listening to my voicemails? please, as much detail as you can. i hope you came hard thinking about me. i love you. the movie was good. i'll take you next week if you want.

You wrote back to tell him that you did in fact come while you listened to a long rambling voicemail he left you a few months ago about how he left the house without his shopping list and made it all the way to Costco before he realized it. "Your Daddy has a nice voice, little nugget," you whispered, pressing one gentle palm to your belly. 

It was 8:30, and you didn't have too much planned for the day other than breakfast at Waffle House with Cat. You had to give another presentation tomorrow, and you were excited to talk to some more superior officers afterwards. You were also supposed to make it to a cocktail hour this evening, but you were planning on ditching it and hoping Cat could network for both of you. It would be nearly impossible to avoid drinking without drawing attention to yourself when there were waiters walking around with flutes of champagne. 

You took a quick shower and got yourself ready, and you tapped on Cat's door. When she opened it, she eyed you skeptically. "You look so much better today. Everything okay?"

"I think it was just the jetlag," you told her smoothly. "Wanna go to Waffle House?"

"Hell yes," she replied, turning to grab her bag. "Hopefully we don't run into my ex or anyone I used to work with."

In all your morning sickness and preparation back in San Diego, you had forgotten that Cat also had roots in Maryland. "If we run into Mike, point him out to me. I'll punch him in the face."

She laughed. "I would personally love to see that."

You drove the rental car through the familiar town to the diner you'd been to many times with Cam when you were at the Naval Academy together. You snapped a picture to send to him before walking inside. Sure enough, the floors were sticky, but it smelled like strong coffee, and your stomach started growling. You silently prayed that whatever you ate managed to stay down, at least until you were alone again. 

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Cat asked you as you glanced at the menu, a little disappointed that they didn't have avocado toast. 

"I thought maybe I would take a nap at some point."

"Oh, that's actually a great idea. I might do that as well. I never get a full night of sleep when I'm home with Jeremiah."

You ordered a stack of pancakes and some bacon and then listened to Cat order the signature waffle. When the waitress wandered away, you asked, "Is Jake watching him this week?" with a little smirk. You already knew he was. Well, him and Hondo both were.

She played with the container of sugar and didn't meet your eyes as she said, "I think this week will make or break my relationship with Jake."

"Why?" you gasped. 

She was quiet for a moment as she glanced out the window. "He practically begged me to let him help watch Jeremiah. So he and Uncle Bernie are sharing duties. I just... know how my uncle feels about Jake. They clash, and none of it is really Jake's fault. I just need to make some decisions when we get back."

Your stomach lurched. "What kind of decisions?"

She shrugged and poked her silverware. "If they can't get along, then I'll have to decide if I can reasonably keep putting everyone through this. I'll likely never be able to afford my own place, and Bernie is the only family I still talk to. But Jake...." She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she said, "I wasn't expecting to ever fall in love again."

The only thing you could think to say was, "He loves Jeremiah."

She didn't humor you with a response. Instead she asked, "Are you planning on seeing your parents while we're here?"

"Yeah," you answered as the food arrived. "About that... you mind if I use the car on Thursday evening? You're more than welcome to join me, but they want me to have dinner with them at home."

"You can use the car all you want," she replied. "And I'll think about it. Thanks." As you were coating your food in syrup, she asked, "Weren't Bradley's parents from Maryland as well?"

"Virginia," you replied immediately. "They were both from the Norfolk area. Nick grew up closer to the beach, and Carole grew up in the city." As you took a bite of pancake, your stomach growled awkwardly, but a warm thought lit up in your mind. "Hey, so you wouldn't mind too much if I actually used the car today?"

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

Bradley was in the air all day on Tuesday, and he kept looking at his little collection of photos longingly. He had one of you from when the two of you were dating. You were mid laugh, face lit up, looking right at him. And then he had a wedding photo as well. It was the one the photographer took where the sun was just hitting the horizon behind you. And now he also had a little stack of ultrasound pictures to look at.

When his comms crackled to life, he tucked the photos away and got himself in position for some tactical dog fighting with Nat and Bob. Bradley loved flying, but more and more he had been considering what might come next for him. One day he could get injured or fail an eye exam. Then what? Other than being home with you and the nugget at that point, he didn't know what else the Navy could offer him.

"Tally, tally!" Bob called out, and Bradley easily dodged the attack. He knew he was good. He knew he was the right mix of cautious and impulsive. He had to be. But there also needed to be more, because if this week was teaching him anything, it was that too many long deployments away from his family would be unbearable. 

When he finally touched down on the runway at 2:30, he was hungry and thirsty, and Maverick dismissed him to the rec room along with Nat and Bob. When he checked his phone, he had a bunch of missed calls and texts from you. 

"Hey, you go ahead," he told them. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," Bob replied, and Bradley watched them walk inside the tower while he read your most recent message. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I have a little surprise for you. Any chance you can facetime?

He had no idea what you could have in mind for him. A little surprise could be anything. Shit, it could be dirty. He glanced around before tucking himself up against the side of the building with his aviators perched on his nose. He dropped his helmet gently to the ground and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he called you. 

"Bradley!"

Your gorgeous face filled his phone screen, and he smiled immediately. "Hey, Sweetheart. You look pretty."

"Thank you. I feel good today."

"How's the nugget?"

You laughed. "As finicky as ever."

You were obviously outside somewhere, and the sky was cloudy behind you as you walked past some trees. "Where are you? And what's my surprise?"

You bit your lip and looked between the phone screen and something else before you knelt down on the ground. "I just had this silly idea earlier when I was eating breakfast." You tilted the phone away from your face, and then Bradley knew exactly where you were. "But I thought we could tell them the news together? Let them be the first to know?"

He pulled his sunglasses from his face and stared at his phone screen as tears blurred his vision. "Baby Girl," he gasped as he looked at his parents' gravesite. Both headstones were decorated with fresh flowers which you must have just placed there today, and you had tucked an ultrasound photo underneath a few pebbles as well.

"Do you want to tell them?" you asked, your voice just the softest whisper that made him ache even more. 

"Yeah," he managed to say as he fought to keep his composure as a tear slid down his cheek. "Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. That's not just my perfect wife sitting there with you. That's your grandchild, too."

He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time as you rearranged the pebbles. "Still just a nugget right now, but we'll bring him or her back again someday. Right, Roo?" you asked, turning the phone back to your gorgeous face. 

Bradley nodded as he sobbed. "Yeah," he rasped as you smiled at him and swiped at your own tears. "Of course. The three of us will come back together. We can have a picnic. Let the kiddo meet Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose."

"That sounds perfect."

"Hey, Sweetheart?" he managed as he cried. "I fucking love you so much. You know that, right?"

Your voice was still soft, and Bradley wanted to melt into it. "Yeah. I know."

He wiped his cheeks with the rough sleeve of his flight suit as he asked, "You really drove three and a half hours from Annapolis to the cemetery?"

You curled up on your side next to the ultrasound photo as you said, "Yeah. It seemed like a no-brainer. I thought they should be the first ones to know."

"Fuck." He had to fight for composure. "I would marry you a hundred times. A thousand times. I would marry you a million fucking times, Sweetheart."

You laughed softly. "I'd let you."

Those were some of the sweetest words Bradley had ever heard in his life, and you said them as you and the baby were curled up there with the memory of his mom and dad. He would literally never get over how perfect you really were. 

Then you popped up and groaned, "Oh no." And Bradley was treated to the vivid facetime experience of watching you run a few feet to your left before you threw up in the shrubs. 

"Take some deep breaths," he coaxed, just like he would if you were in the bathroom at home. "Do you have some water and the ginger candy with you?"

"In the rental car," you told him as you set your phone on the ground. "I was doing so well today, too."

He didn't want to say it, but he knew this meant the baby was nice and healthy. "Why don't you curl up with Carole again, Baby Girl. She told me she threw up non-stop when she was pregnant. I'm sure she can commiserate."

"Actually, I think I will," you told him when you picked up the phone once again. "I'm going to hang out with my in-laws a little longer. Have a chat about how much I adore their son. Maybe get their opinion on some baby names."

He laughed. "Don't let them talk you into Bradley Junior."

You shook your head adamantly. "I'd sooner allow you to name the nugget Bronco."

"Hell yes!" he cheered. "Bronco Bradshaw is still on the table."

You cradled your forehead in your hand, but you were smiling. "Get back to work while the nugget and I spend some time with your mom and dad."

"I love you more than life itself, Baby Girl."

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

She treats him so well. Fuck, this even made me tear up a little bit. Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose would have been the best. Next we will find out what kind of trouble awaits in Maryland. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 33

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