#I just keep getting distracted by ''wait WAIT I didn't realize this before but!''

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[loregoddess]

some more thoughts I had while reviewing a few banters, that I can't quite fit into the analysis I'm currently writing...

In the "New Paper Plays" banter between Temenos, Agnea, Castti, and Partitio, Temenos mentions that he wrote and illustrated his paper plays himself, noting that he specifically tailored them to be appealing to children. This got me wondering about all the "mistakes" he makes while reading these plays to children, which I've wondered about a lot because Temenos is clearly very familiar with all the scriptures (to the point where he can share certain stories at a moments notice when he feels they're fitting for the situation), so it seems strange that he would mess up the details.

And then it hit me--Temenos is probably making the mistakes on purpose. This would achieve three things: 1) It allows the children to have fun learning the scriptures because they can laugh and correct Temenos on the details he messed up, 2) It helps the children to build their confidence because they feel smart when correcting him and aren't afraid to speak up and correct him, and 3) It teaches the children not to blindly rely on and trust others for things they either know to be true or could otherwise investigate and learn the truth themselves, even when (or especially when) the information comes from someone who should "know what is correct"--which is the core of Temenos's approach to his faith. The third point I feel is what Temenos is specifically trying to get at with his mistakes, since he is an "authority" figure, and if the children aren't afraid to stand up and correct him, then they may become adults who likewise aren't afraid to question and investigate things for themselves.

It's rather clever really, since Temenos isn't outright saying "hey, you should doubt things that are presented to you as true and told not to question". Instead, he's modelling the actual actions for the kids by presenting them with something they know isn't correct from someone who should "know best", and allowing them to question and correct him.

It's a very "Temenos" approach to teaching the scriptures, and considering that doubt and questioning and coming to one's own conclusions can be a form of faith, it isn't even antithetical to his role as a cleric. It's a really neat bit of characterization that I didn't even notice until I realized that Temenos clearly put a lot of thought into how his plays were constructed, and that his purposeful and careful thought process is central to a lot of his characterization, so of course the "mistakes" he makes while reciting the plays would be thought-out and purposeful as well.

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh

[pipsqueaks89934]

Yandere Mershark x Mermaid reader

Warnings: the reader is kinda dumb, non-con, dub-con, marking, kidnapping, and biting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were swimming in the ocean, looking for a new shipwreck to explore so you could find cool new human things to add to your collection. Once you found a shipwreck you immediately began to swim over to it so you could find human stuff. As you checked out the sunken ship you hadn't noticed that you wandered a little too far and accidentally and unintentionally went into the Mershark territory without realizing it. You were too distracted in the human stuff to realize that a Mershark had snuck into the shipwreck and found you digging through a giant container while you threw things that you didn't like out and putting the stuff you did like in a bag you made of seaweed and other ocean plants. As you dug through the container you still were not aware of the Mershark silently sneaking up on you until you felt a large pair of arms wrap around your chubby waist, making a scream erupt from your throat.

“Hey, little one you're a long way from home aren't you?” the Mershark said as he turned you around so you two could be face to face.

“Who are you?” you squeal as you try to get away from the Mershark.

“I’m Alon,” he said as he played with a small chunk of your hair while keeping you in a strong grip. “And you're in my territory.”

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble as you give up trying to get out of his grip. “I’ll leave and never come back, I promise!”

“But then who will be my mate?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don't know!” you said as you started trying to get out of his grasp.

“Don't worry I'm not going to hurt you,” he said with a smirk that showed off his sharp teeth. “Too much!”

“No, please, I'm sorry!” you cry as he starts to swim out of the shipwreck with you in his arms.

He swam deeper and deeper into the ocean until you two reached a cove.

“Where are we?” you ask as you look around the small cove.

“Our new home!” he said while holding you from the back.

“Home?” you ask while looking at him with a scared look in your eyes.

“Yes,” he said while putting his head in the nook of your neck before kissing it gently. “Should I mark you now or while we mate?”

“What?” you ask as you try to push his head away.

“You're right,” he said before pinning you to the sea floor. “Why wait?”

The next thing you know you are being held down while the shark above you thrusts into your warmth at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” he groaned while he kept the pace he set earlier. “I’m gonna mark you in a minute, I know you mermaids like to have a mark to show off!”

All you could do was squeak, chirp, and whimper as the shark man thrust into you as hard as he could.

“Does it feel good my little fishy?” he asked as he looked down at you with a smirk on his handsome and chiseled face.

You tried not to think about how hot the Mershark on top of you was as he continued to fuck you.

“Answer!” he said angrily while grabbing your face so you could look back at him.

I don't remember looking away.

“N…no…” you whimper out as you try not to cry.

“Aww why didn't you say anything baby?” he cooed with fake pity before going slower.

“Ah!” you moan as he started to go slower.

“Does it feel good now?” he smirked as he hit all the good spots inside you at just the right pace.

You nodded your head as you felt something build up in your stomach. As the feeling grew you put your webbed claws on Alon’s shoulders so you could hold on to him as he thrusted into you. As you came you dug your sharp claws into his shoulders (accidentally making him bleed) before slumping down to the ocean floor. After a few more powerful thrusts he bottomed out and stayed there for a few seconds before you felt something fill you up.

“It's okay little fish,” he said soothingly as he rubbed your face. “It's just my eggs you will be okay.”

All you did was nod your head as you felt your eyelids getting heavy.

“I will never let you leave my side little fish,” he said with a smirk as he cuddled up beside you, making sure to hold you tight in his big arms. “Especially when you are the mother of our kids.”

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) not my problem ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 앤톤 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ anton tired of being cock blocked by his members  ヾ

boyfriend!anton・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎unprotected sex, having sex while on the phone‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.9k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. thinking abt needy anton who keeps getting cockblocked by the other members then finally has enough 😭🤭 ..

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy love 🫶🏽🩷!!!

it's not like anton didn't like that you were friends with his friends; of course not, he met you through sohee — but it often came at a price; you two hardly got any privacy at the dorms. scratch that you didn't get any privacy at the dorms.

between them constantly just walking into his room , completely spoiling the mood; not to mention the teasing that followed right after by his older members… it's safe to say anton was tired of his members and although he loved them , he also loved getting his dick wet, but his members made sure that almost never happened.

what really did it in for him is when he realized he couldn't even escape it when he came over to your house. “baby.” he whined against your neck. “please , im so horny.” you two had not had any privacy for a while and anton felt like he was gonna burst in his pants. “fuck i need to be inside you before i die.” you chuckled at his neediness. “you're being dramatic ton.”

you weren't gonna lie , you needed him too; both of you were so busy , you were often forced to take care of each other over the phone while he was in a different country — but it wasn't like having him in person. “baby i can feel you.” he grinded his clothed cock against your heat. “fuck ton.” you mewled out , hands flying to his hair. “see you want it to.” he whispered in your ear. “when's the last time we actually fucked?”

you had no intentions of teasing him further. “take your shirt off.” he sat up , throwing his shirt off somewhere in the rush to get you outta your clothes. “can't wait to get inside you.” removing his pants, climbing back into bed with you. “gonna fill you up , nice and stuffed.”

you moaned as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds , legs twitching as his cock head kissed your clit. “fuck , keep your legs open.”

he was positioned at your hole , ready to feel your insides — when the imaginable happened… your phone rang. “fuck!” he yelled frustrated. “calm down , let me see who it is.” you reached for your phone , he was still hovered above you , cock desperate to be inside you. “well who is it?” he almost burst into flames when he saw who it was. “what the fuck could sohee want at this moment?

maybe he was thinking with his dick at the time , because he couldn't imagine himself saying what he said next. “answer it.” your eyes widened , surely your boyfriend lost his mind. “what no , i'll just call him back.” you said. “no he'll just keep calling , answer it."

“anton im not answering it— i said answer it.” his voice much deeper , shocking you , making you answer it almost immediately. “he-hey sohee.”

“took you long enough i could've been dieing.” he said. “im sorry was …” your mouth dropped open as you felt the stretch of your boyfriends cock. “you were what?” your friend said. “b-busy , i was busy.” you pushed at your boyfriend's waist trying to push him out of you, but he was much stronger , holding your waist down as he began to thrust inside you. “fuck keep talking.” he moaned. “was that anton? tell him i said hi.”

you tried to listen to your friend , but his yapping was completely overshadowed by the feeling of anton fucking into you vigorously. “yn you okay?” sohee asked. “you seem distracted.” you bit your bottom lip to contain a moan as antons cock kissed your cervix over and over. “fi-fine , just a long day.”

“you should make anton make you some dinner so you can relax.” you would've laughed at your boyfriend rolling his eyes , had he not sped up his movements fucking you with harsher thrust , you covered your mouth as his cock bullied your pussy. “fuck baby im about to cum.” he whispered. “hang up the phone.” he said. “hee i-i have to go.”

“hold on , im almost finished.” he said, continuing on with his story about something that happened to him — pissing your boyfriend off. “fuck it.” he sped up his pace. “fu-fuck sohee i really need to go.” you stuttered. “what are you even doing?” anton was quick to snatch the phone , still plowing into you. “what does it sound like?” he hit a particular spot making you moan loudly. “now she'll call you back when i'm done.” he hung up , tossing the phone. “fuck , fuck!” he cursed. “im gonna cum.”

your tits bouncing as he pounded into you. “fuck me ton , make me cum.” you moaned. “please make me cum.” he held one of your legs around his waist , the band in his stomach about to snap. “fuck!” you gasped. “fuck im cumming ton , im fucking cumming!” you screamed his name , the band finally snapping , both of you cumming at the same time , your juices coating his length as he filled you up. “fuck.”

“your phone has been blowing up for the past hour.” you said as your boyfriend sucked little marks into your neck post sex. “it's probably the groupchat.” and then it all came back to you , your blood running cold. “oh my god he probably told the entire group what you did.” he shrugged. “ton.” you boyfriend groaned , reaching over to turn his phone off. “now they know to leave me alone when im with you that's not my problem right now.”

“my problem right now is how many times i can make you cum before you pass out on me.”

©LUVYENI

[miniimight]

MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late

with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)

one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.

but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.

you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.

"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.

he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.

you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.

then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.

you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.

families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—

he hadn't shown up.

IZUKU

you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.

you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.

a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.

you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."

the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.

he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.

you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.

"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."

you got off the couch.

"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"

"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.

"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"

"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."

he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"

"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.

his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"

"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"

he groaned. "i know, i know—"

"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.

he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.

"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.

he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.

"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.

he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.

he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."

you refused to look at him.

he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."

you sniffled.

he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"

your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.

he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."

you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.

he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."

"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.

"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.

BAKUGOU

you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.

you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.

you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.

rrrring rrring

you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.

"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"

"a friend's house."

"why?"

you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."

silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."

you hummed.

"y/n. come home."

"i'm good here, really."

"i'm serious, come home."

"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"

his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"

"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.

he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."

you scoffed.

"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."

you waited.

he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"

you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.

after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?

you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.

you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.

as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?

no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.

you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.

you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.

his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"

"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."

you frowned. "but—"

"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."

you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."

you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."

he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.

you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"

he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."

amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Missing Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: Smut, degradation, minor alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, NO use of (Y/N)

Summary: You and Daryl distract each other from missing Merle.

Notes: Wanted to try the idea of Daryl thinking he wants super rough sex, but he finds out he doesn't really like it that much when you indulge in it. GIF found from Pinterest from user vallie

Taking a hot shower was something you used to take for granted. But after arriving at the CDC and having the chance to not only clean, but sanitize yourself, you made every second count. You even fucking shaved. 

When you heard Jenner would also be serving dinner, you could've thrown up in excitement.

“C'mon, quit actin’ like a pussy and drink.” 

You rolled your eyes at the redneck's words, but shrugged and waved him forward anyway. He grinned in success and filled a cup with red wine, nearly spilling it on your chest with the way he shoved it towards you.

The shift in the atmosphere the last few hours had been remarkable. Not too long ago you were in the first stages of accepting your possible demise, standing behind Shane and Daryl as they fought to get Rick away from the doors. Now here you sat between Carol and Daryl, drinking some of the best wine you'd ever tasted, enough food on your plate to fill your stomach the way it was meant to be. 

You barely heard Daryl whisper beside you over the happy chatter of your group. “Watch, he's gonna turn all red, Koreans all got an allergy to alcohol.” 

You couldn't help but break into a grin at that, shaking your head in amusement. He looked too excited for you to correct him so you just chuckled, and tried not to fall from your chair when he playfully elbowed you in your side. 

The sight of Lori and Shane in the little library foiled your plans to read before bed. You only watched for a second, it looked like they were arguing, trying to keep their voices down despite their frustration. 

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels, annoyed you'd have to settle on something in the rec room. 

As soon as you turned the corner to walk down the hall, you bumped into a chest so hard you lost your balance. Their hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and when you heard that teasing southern accent you immediately felt your mood lifting. 

“That wine make you blind? You Korean too?” He snickered as he helped you right yourself. 

It was incredibly refreshing to see Daryl in that light. He was in a great mood, not drunk but buzzed enough to keep a grin on his face. 

“Fucking Shane and Lori's in there.” You grumbled playfully, crossing your arms in exaggerated annoyance. 

“Huh, what're they doin’?” His voice lowered to a nosey whisper and he nudged you back to peek around the corner. He immediately pulled back, bumping into you again, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuckin’ white trash. Actin’ like Rick ain't right down the hall.” 

That had you turning into a nosey busybody and you went to see what he was talking about, but he had already nudged your shoulder in the other direction to the bedroom halls. 

“C'mon, let's go do somethin’.” He didn't wait for an answer as he continued using his body to guide you down the hallway, reminding you of a sheepdog, which amused you to no end. 

“Like what?” You smirked as he shouldered you into one of the rec rooms. There were a few loveseats, bean bag chairs, a long couch and endless shelves of things. Board games, card games, sketch books and those really expensive high quality colored pencils, markers, you name it. You could spend the rest of your life in this room and die happy. 

“Hell, I don't know.” He shrugged and went to look through the shelves. You watched him in the doorway, your lip tightening at the side when you realized he was desperate to take his mind off Merle. Shit, you were too. You missed the fuck out of Merle Dixon. You'd grown extremely close to him, he wordlessly accepted your vulnerability of being the black sheep and Daryl related to it. They treated you like some weird adopted family member that one playfully flirted with and the other jerked off to. 

“Wanna play uno? I'm suspiciously good at it.” You finally shut the door and walked over to him with crossed arms, aware of the way he tensed when you got closer. 

“Uno? The fuck? Hell no.” He scoffed and aggressively flipped through the games on the shelf. “This is like some fucked up retirement center.”

“What'd you expect? An Xbox full of two player games?” You watched as he pretended to read the back of a card game box. 

“Psh. I don't know. Let's go fuck with Glenn -”

You grabbed his wrist before he could rush past you and laughed. “Leave the poor kid alone. He's gonna be so fucking sick tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Threw up on my couch.” He muttered, remembering the way he'd had to drag Glenn to the couch in his temporary bedroom. 

“Course he did. You kept pouring wine down the kids' throat.”

You had a few minutes of friendly banter, suggested uno again, he suggested strip poker, you suggested skipping the poker, and soon you were grinding against his knee behind some of the book shelves.

“I want it dirty. Want it raw.” He huffed as he feverishly unbuckled his belt. “F-fuck, you're so hot.”

You grinned and leaned in to bite his bottom lip, earning a delicious whimper from him. You dug your teeth down harder and pulled back, feeling his dick twitch obscenely against your hip. 

“Want it dirty, yeah?” You drawled and kissed down his neck, switching between biting and biting hard. 

“Yeah.” He breathed and fucked his hand, clutching onto your hair with his other. “You think,” he faltered as you bit down on his nipple, his words spilling into various curses and slang you couldn't understand. “Shhh-fuck” His voice cracked in a way that was absolutely fucking adorable to you. “Y’think, you could, on top-”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You made your way back up to his neck, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but he stopped you. You didn't question it, you just sat him down on one of the loveseats and climbed in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at the door, even though it was shut anyone could just walk in, but Daryl grabbed your chin and forced you back against his mouth. 

You fucking loved the way he kissed. It was so hot and sloppy, his tongue diving everywhere in your mouth, licking every spot he could reach. When you pulled back to breathe, the skin around your lips felt wet, just another thing to make your pussy wetter. Daryl Dixon being so messy and dirty drove you insane. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you slurred, your hands sliding up your pajama shirt to grope your own breasts. “Who would've thought you were such a needy whore.”

“Can you blame me, woman? Shit.” He thrusted up against you as he admired your form over him, your lips parted and your hair in your face, you looked hotter than every single pornstar he'd ever seen. He came harder to you than Sasha Grey. 

You maneuvered out of your pajama pants and slipped back in his lap, sliding your pussy against his throbbing cock. 

“Fuckin’ goddamnit.” He sputtered and grabbed hold of your hips for dear life. He rolled up in sync with you, nearly cumming when he saw the way his head would push through your folds each time your hips slid back. 

It was easier to get him inside you with you on top, you didn't need to worry about him slamming into you like last time. You took your time, enjoying the way he curled his upper lip in frustration, his eyes locked on the way his dick disappeared up inside you. 

“Fuck.” You drew your word out as you finally sat down on him, his dick sticking you like a skewer. 

You opened your eyes when you felt him grabbing your right wrist. He brought it up to his throat with no hesitation, a new boldness filling him that you didn't expect. 

You scoffed and laughed, the sound making his hips jerk roughly up into you. You obliged though, grabbing hold of his thick throat and squeezing. 

The situation you found yourself in was something you could easily get used to. You leaned back, keeping yourself upright with your grip on his neck. You rolled your hips in a way that served you, using Daryl's dick to get off. The way you fucked him was completely foreign to him, he'd never seen anything like this in the tapes he'd steal from Merle. 

You moaned when he bucked into you, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. You released his neck and grabbed his chin, your thumb slipping between his teeth, holding him like a hooked fish. He looked up at you through his lashes and bit down gently, his hips rolling slower now. 

“You're a fucking mess.” You hissed with a smirk, looking down at your work proudly. Now he was the one who needed to be in a filthy magazine. His cheeks and lips red, his eyes half lidded and dark, his teeth bared and biting on your thumb. He was sweating like crazy and you were impressed he hadn't come yet, must've been the wine. “God I missed your dick.”

You weren't sure how it happened but soon you were pressed against the wall, your thighs wrapped around his back and his dick rearranging your insides. You couldn't moan even if you wanted, he was so rough and fast that all you could do was gasp in each breath, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open. 

His thrusts slowed and he pulled back from biting your neck to nip the side of your jaw, making your eyes roll back to focus. 

“Slap me.”

Your words didn't register to him for a second. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, although his rough thrusts didn't even budge. 

“C'mon, you wanted it dirty, didn't you?” You sneered, and a book fell from the shelf next to you when your head thudded back against the wall after a deep thrust.

He went to speak, but he only let out a long breath, and that's when his thrusts started to slow. “The hell you want that for?” 

You were caught off guard by the look on his face. He looked equally confused and almost… insulted? Hurt? 

“Cause it feels really fucking good. Hey, you don't have to, alright?” Your breathing came back under your control when his thrusts stopped altogether. 

You could tell you upset him. You slid your legs from his waist until your toes touched the floor, and his dick slipped out of you. 

“Hey, it's okay, alright?” You reached to touch his chin but he tilted his head away, no longer looking confused, moreso disappointed. 

You bit your bottom lip and thought. He was in no state to make any further moves so you made it for him. You pulled your clothes back on and took him to his bedroom, making sure to close and lock the door. You turned the lights off and laid him down on the bed before climbing on top of him. 

“I just wanna make you feel good, can I do that?” You murmured softly, sitting on his lap and stroking his cheek. 

That seemed to get to him and he gave in, nodding once without meeting your gaze.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” You promised and kissed down his cheek, deciding against being rough with him the way you were before. 

“Never gonna hear me say that.” He snorted and intertwined his fingers in your hair, gentle, something you hadn't experienced with him. It was like a switch was flipped and he was a completely different man. 

Daryl melted under you as you worked him over with soft touches and kisses. You took your bottoms back off and took his dick back out, giving him a few strokes to get him hard again. You wasted no time in slipping him inside you, thankful there was little resistance with how wet you had become. 

You settled down on him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, your fingers pinching the buttons on his shirt as a way to ground yourself. His dick sent you to other places. 

You fucked him slow, taking the time to feel and appreciate each time his tip rubbed against your sweet spot. He breathed noisily under you, giving the occasional grunt or quiet whine, his hands resting on your hips. 

Flipping your hair to one side over your shoulder, you leaned down and kissed him. You led this time, just moving your lips against his, slow and deep and without the use of your teeth, no matter how badly you wished to hear him whimper. 

He sat up and wrapped his arms around your back to turn you over, somehow managing to keep his lips on yours the entire time. 

You felt your muscles sigh in relief when he laid you on your back in the soft bed. You let out a soft happy breath when he slid his hands up your sides, content in just stroking your skin. He wasn't fucking you then, it was something different. If you were stupid you'd call it making love. He thrusted deep and slow, his hips moving on their own accord. Each time he plunged back in he'd exhale deeply through his nose, tickling the skin of your upper lip. 

Daryl was the one to break the kiss, he leaned back on his heels to look down at you.

“So damn pretty.” He mumbled, his eyelids struggling to stay open. If he wasn't drunk on the wine he was drunk on you and this new way of having you, a way he never even considered. This was it, he thought, this is how he wanted to have sex for the rest of his life. Swallowing each other whole, touching and caressing every inch of skin. 

His eyelids didn't feel so heavy when he saw you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes closed and you grabbed at your hair and breast, your head lolling to the side, your mouth hanging open, your face all twisted up-

You came hard around him, shuddering and gasping and whimpering as you enjoyed your sweet orgasm. It was so different, so drastically different from the last one he gave you. You didn't feel like you were on fire, clawing at your skin with your throat raw, you felt like you were being slipped into the warm black lake that was Daryl Dixon. 

“Daryl, oh my god Daryl.” Your words slurred in your mouth and he leaned down to kiss you. He wanted to swallow every little noise you made. Wanted to swallow your breaths, wanted to swallow you. 

“Ss-shh-fuck.” He bubbled against your lips as he came, forgetting to pull out again. He didn't give a shit anymore. He moaned then, such a beautiful noise that it nearly shattered your heart. So shameless, he didn't hold back at all, letting you hear all of it, all that you earned from him. 

He ground his hips into you well after you both finished, making sure every last drop of his cum filled you up. He buried his face in your neck and rolled his hips, his rough pubes grinding against your throbbing clit. You'd never come that way before, not without at least a little outside stimulation, the fact he made you cum from penetration alone changed your life for good. 

It was hard to bite back any further words. You moaned softly at the feeling of his dick still dragging against your walls, nudging against you each time in a way that was nearly too much to bear. 

You looked at him with admiration. He looked beautiful. You reached up and ran your hand over his short hair, wiping the sweat from his brows. He looked at you, something he needed great courage to do, and sighed. 

He couldn't think of anything to say. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, he'd been so deeply vulnerable that it physically hurt him. He swore he'd blow his goddamn brains out if you laughed or made fun of him. 

But you didn't, you just smiled up at him with that dangerous look on your face that had his heart racing. It should've relaxed him, but it didn't, it made the muscles in his shoulders tense. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered as you stroked his cheek, fully prepared for him to go back to the same old Daryl Dixon you knew and tolerated. 

“Do whatcha want.” He breathed, finally pulling his soft dick from you. 

“Good. Then I'll stay.” You leaned up on your elbows and kissed his jaw before slipping into the bathroom. 

When you climbed back in bed he was pretending to be asleep. You scoffed quietly in amusement and pulled a thin sheet over the two of you, curling up behind him. You decided that wouldn't suit you so you turned over and wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in the back of his neck. 

You kissed the skin there once before pressing your forehead against the same spot, closing your eyes when you felt comfortable. 

Daryl stared at the wall in front of him as he felt your fingers softly fidget with the buttons of his shirt. They soon stilled and your breathing slowed to a point where he could barely hear it anymore. Only then did he close his eyes, and secretly enjoy the way you held him. 

The next morning was awkward when you woke up and saw Glenn still passed out on the couch.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[yoredoesmore]

can we recieve a fanfic where reader is petty and could take his vice captain job (soshiro hoshina)

if she really tried? So kind of like enemies to lovers trope, and how he realized she actually didn't despise him was he overheard a conversation with okonogi, while Y/N was like simping and head over heels for him

a/n: i took my time writing this because i never wrote enemies to lovers before :’) i hope you enjoy it!

pairing: Petty!Hoshina x Petty!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers trope

[wc: 2,4k ]

Too Sweet | Hoshina Soshiro

“Did I tell you guys about the story of how I almost became Vice Captain?” You yelled into the round, beer glass lifted high up in the air.

“You? Vice Captain? No way!” Kafka laughed, wasted as much as everybody else around you.

The stench of alcohol and meat lingered in the air and the tension was packed and steamy. Two hours ago, the Third Division managed to neutralize a Daikaiju with a Fortitude Level of 8.3. Of course you could not have done it without the Kaiju on your side, Kafka, but it was indeed a group accomplishment. Thus, everybody felt lifted in both spirit and mind– and the alcohol only added to the cheerful atmosphere.

“Oh yes! Captain Ashiro was gonna pick me instead of mushroom head over there but he flashed his little katanas and bat his pretty little lashes to secure the spot for himself. Talk about tactical maneuvers!”

The entire table immediately fell into a fit of laughter, unable to hold themselves back anymore from the jokes that came at their Vice Captain's expenses. Even after another ten minutes, the mockery took no end. You continued to tease and joke about Hoshina, despite him only being a couple tables away from you, as the joy was too sweet. But as the time passed you eventually forgot about his existence, until he spoke up to remind you.

“You talk quite big for someone who can barely hold a gun. Don't think I didn't notice your little accident during the fight against that group of Yoju two hours ago.” Hoshina made sure to pronounce the word Yoju, not just to tease you but simply out of spite. Deep down he knew that the alcohol was speaking out of you, yet that did not stop him from feeling slightly irritated by your remarks.

“Maybe if you hadn't been standing right in front of the Yoju, I would have managed to get a better shot at the thing. Being a close distance fighter while everybody around you needs a clear field of vision to work must be quite tiring, hm? Maybe I would have been better off as the Vice Captain after all.”

Hoshina’s face twisted into a serious grimace upon hearing your words– a nerve had been struck. Even the others knew not to speak up anymore, the drastic change in atmosphere indicated that a fight was about to go down.

“Then how come everybody else managed to do their job just perfectly, huh? Maybe something distracted ya, Vice Captain?” Hoshina's words stung sharp in your chest. Especially him calling you that made the aftertaste of alcohol in your mouth even worse.

The both of you were now standing right across from one another, only a couple inches keeping you apart.

“Are they..about to fight??” Kafka asked Reno, worry lingering in his voice.

“Putting all my money on L/n.” Was all Reno had to say, leaving Kafka shocked.

“That ugly ass bowl cut of yours must have distracted me.”

Silence.

It was a silence that swept over the room that had everybody on high alert. One little slip of their mouth– or even the slightest bit of laughter falling out of their lips, would meant certain death. Your comment about Hoshina's hair came out way too fast, as if you have been waiting to mention it. The annoyance was evident on the Vice Captain's face. Never in his life has he been provoked to punish someone as much as he was now.

The man stepped closer, leaving little to no space between the both of you as he spoke up again.

“Is this funny to you, L/n?” Hoshina slightly tilted his head to the side as he spoke. The tone he had chosen to ask that question forced shivers down everyone's back. Hoshina was a patient man who did not let his emotions get the best of him most of the time but right now it was clear as ice that he was pissed.

“Maybe we should stop the-”

“Fucking hilariousss.” You dragged the s’ to really make it sting.

And from then on all went downhill…

×

“I did What?!” Your screech was so loud, it almost cut Okonogi’s ear off clean.

“Yep. The two of you almost got kicked out of the bar, if it hadn't been for Izumo and Kaguragi going between you– the only rationally thinking adults at yesterday's get together might I add.” The woman fixed her glasses as she made the remark.

Your eyes sat no longer in their sockets but rather on the floor, rolling around like giant marbles.

“Fuck..fuck!” Embarrassment rushed through your body, the images of yesterday's fight slowly returning to your mind. To think that you would act out in such way, simply because of a couple glasses of beer– it made you feel ashamed.

“That fucker knows how to push my buttons, dammit!”

“Oh please.” Okononig finally looked up from her laptop, all attention now on you.

“Even without the alcohol, Hoshina is able to draw out the most aggressive reactions out of you. You two always nag on each others throats, how come?”

Your eyes refused to meet hers as she waited for an answer, your gaze drifting towards anything in the room but her frame. How did you end up like this? It was a good question, unfortunately, you yourself did not know the answer. The tension between you and the Vice Captain has become so palpable that the wall it has created kept the both of you far away from one another. Every interaction, every conversation and even the smallest comment– your encounters would always end up in some kind of fight.

“That idiot..if he wasn't so damn cute I would have fucked him over a long time ago."

“Understa– what now??” Okonogi thought that she misheard you, that she has been listening to so much of your complaining that her ears were playing tricks on her. But one look at the dreamy face you were making was enough for her to know that you were indeed dead serious.

“He always has that stupid smirk on his face, it's driving me crazy!” You allowed your body to slump down onto the couch as you started to reveal your true feelings.

“Ugh, Konomi! He is so annoying. He thinks that just because he has a cute face he can act all cocky with me! I could take his spot as Vice Captain anytime I want, snap, just like that! He should be more careful around me!”

Either the alcohol was still speaking out of you or your mental state was much more fragile than Okonogi had thought. She did know that you had a little crush on the Vice Captain all the way back then when you first started out but to think that your feelings have not changed, despite the lack of chemistry between the both of you. It was truly impressive yet also worrying.

“Then why not just take his spot?” The woman asked a rhetorical question, sarcasm hanging in her voice.

“I like it when he gives me orders.”

“Y/n..”

“I'm just kidding, gosh!” You sighed and allowed your hand to fall over your face.

“But…I do like the way he acts when he's in control of a situation, he's too sweet.” A giggle slipped from between your lips. “Hoshina is the best when he goes all serious, be it in a fight against Kaiju or when arguing with me. The look on his face is somethin’ else I'm telling ya! And when he grabs me by the arm to push me away, gosh! I just want to melt!”

Okonogi found herself unable to come up with an answer to your slightly concerning confession. It was such a cliche, constantly arguing with the person you liked simply to see a specific side of them but at the same time she found it cute. To think that the Platoon Leader knew no other way to interact with her crush than to annoy him, it was childish but sweet. Like a highschool romance maybe?

“Don't ever tell him how much you admire him, it will definitely go to his head.” The woman returned to her workload yet she continued to pay you some of her attention

“Ha! Never, not even in my dreams. Okay, maybe in my dreams.” You giggled “If he held my real tight maybe and..oh Okonogi! This man has me in a chokehold, ugh.”

You went into an endless ramble about what specifically you liked about the man. His voice, his way of thinking in battle oh and not to mention his body– one could have thought you were talking to your diary. But your friend did not mind, as she found listening to a second voice instead just the one in her head while working rather refreshing.

“Oh and one time I caught him mid workout late at night and you wont believe how good he looked in that fucking compression shirt. I was ogling so hard, he caught me and I had to pretend to be mad at him for making so much noise late at night.”

“You gotta tell him how you feel someday, Y/n.” The woman replied but her words fell onto deaf ears. You had built up too much tension to now come out with your true feelings. Especially after yesterday's fight, you now had to avoid the man for an unseeable period of time before interacting with him in any type of way. The only way you could ever end up together was if he, for some reason, made the first move but that thought was a fantasy and nothing more.

“Thank you so much for listening to my bullshit rant, Konomi.” You gave the woman a long hug from behind while she remained seated.

“Always here to listen to you.” She smiled. And with that you left her shared office.

On your way back to your room, you encountered many cadets who greeted you with a smile. You returned their kindness, making sure to smile and wave at any soul you encountered. But once the space you walked through became less lively, less and less cadets now passed you by until you were all alone, so did the change in atmosphere become more suffocating. You felt a presence behind you, poking and scratching at your back.

At first you tried to ignore it, not paying your alarming thoughts any attention, until you were fully convinced to have heard something move behind you.

“Who's there-” Your entire body immediately froze upon locking eyes with Hoshina.

“Oh great, it's the Vice-” Hoshina grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you mid sentence, and pulled you into the closest room. His ambush came so fast and sudden, you barely had time to fight back. The man made sure to close the door behind himself as he had you where he wanted you to be, a dangerous smirk sat on his face.

“What the hell do you think you are doing!” You spat, the entire situation seeming so random to be real.

“I'm going to enjoy this immensely.” There was something playful in the Vice Captain's voice, something that even you feared. Before you could even progress what was about to happen, Hoshina placed himself right in front of you, head slightly tilted to the side and arms crossed over his chest.

“So, ya like it when I give ya orders, huh?”

Everything in your brain came to a temporary halt as you heard those words come from his mouth. Embarrassment wasn't even enough to explain the sheer humiliation you felt in that very second. Every inch of your body was telling you to run and hide into the nearest corner available. Did he..overhear your conversation with Okonogi?!

“Came by to tell Okonogi that I needed some info on somethin’. Didn't get the info I wanted but def left with sum I needed.”

“I have no idea what you're talking abo-” Once again you found yourself being cut off by the man. Hoshina pushed you back against a table, causing you to stumble and plop down onto it. He then positioned himself between your legs and moved his body closer to yours. His actions seemed like something out of a movie, a scenario one would strictly encounter in the world of fiction, yet he was right in front of you, playing with your heart and sanity.

“Here I was wondering why ya always rushed to get on my nerves. Guess our little Platoon Leader has a crush on her Vice Captain, hm?”

Your brain stopped functioning the second you felt Hoshina's hot breath against your lips. Now that you were seated on the desk and he stood right in front of you, you were about the same height. Forced to stare into his eyes, you found yourself choking on your own words.

“Oh p-please. You probably confused my voice for someone else's.” You tried to save yourself but your efforts were in vain. As your gaze started to drift away from his, Hoshina opened his eyes and placed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He was surely enjoying this, especially after the humiliation you put him through yesterday.

“Look at me.” He ordered, a smug grin on his face.

“All this time I was wondering where all this hate for me was comin from. Ya had me feelin real bad after every damn fight, felt like an asshole and everything.” He chuckled.

“Oh you are an asshole.” You rolled your eyes, the fight in you still alive.

“Yeah but you like this asshole, a lot even.”

As the tension grew thicker you realized that there was no going back from this. Your feelings were laid out all over the room with nowhere to hide. But although you felt humiliated and exposed, a part of you felt relieved that you could finally drop the act. You reached out for Hoshina's wrist and held onto it tightly.

“So what if I like you.. If you let your guard down for even a second, I will still take your position as Vice Captain and kick your fucking ass.”

Hoshina's eyes widened for a second, surprised that you were still going at it, but he liked that about you. That is why he tolerated all the mockery and jokes, because he too was desperate to see a certain side of you.

“How cute. Unfortunately, you are in no position to open your mouth that much.” His fingers grazed over your lips ever so lightly, applying the smallest amount of pressure onto them. His touch had you weak, yet you could not allow yourself to let your guard down. If you showed Hoshina even one second of weakness, he would use that to tease you for all eternity.

He of course knew that and therefore tried to get as much out of this situation as possible.

It was an opportunity too sweet to ignore.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

waiting to spill

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play

word count: 3.9k

(based on this request)

Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.

Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.

Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long? 

One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.

He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.

Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.

"Babe?"

You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.

"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever. 

It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.

"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.

"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane. 

He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.

"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice. 

It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency. 

Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons. 

"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."

He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.

"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver. 

"Please."

You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.

"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.

He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever. 

He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal. 

"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."

The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.

An hour. He can handle one more hour.

He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault. 

He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.

Maybe less. 

There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.

"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here. 

"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"

But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying. 

Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.

He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.

"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go. 

Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.

Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again. 

If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.

Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.

He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.

You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.

You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.

He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.

Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far. 

The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.

Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.

"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."

You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.

"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.

"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."

You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.

"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."

But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.

He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.

"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.

His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.

"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.

"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.

"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."

"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."

He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it. 

Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.

He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust. 

He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.

His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later. 

"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.

He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.

Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.

"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.

It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.  

His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him. 

The girl he waited for. 

He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out. 

He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.

He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for. 

Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.

His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.

When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.

"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."

He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option. 

And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.

You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.

"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."

Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you? 

"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."

It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.

"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.

"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.

"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.

"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.

"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.

"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan. 

His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.

"There's no way."

"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.

"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"

"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.

He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.

"Yeah, I really do."

thanks for reading!

(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)

[murdrdocs]

just thinking thoughts abt luca and his muscles.. i KNOW that mf just manhandles you without even thinking abt it like. ur in the kitchen just yapping away abt some really interesting gossip and he's moving you around if ur in the way with a hand on your arm or waist like you weigh nothing. or you're outside walking somewhere and he's moving you outta the way from some asshole on a bike going dangerously fast and you're not paying attention to your surroundings. he has so much muscle obviously he's not putting it to use if it's not on me 🙄🙄[he makes me ILL]

i got this message and had to pace my kitchen btw casual manhandling; fluffy w suggestive undertones MDNI 18+ w/ LUCA (the bear)

luca's working diligently.

you would've worried about distracting him if he wasn't so visible focused, his head consistently dipped to keep his eyes focused on the cutting board. you don't know how he does it, how he's cooking and responding to your shitty and extremely confusing recollection of drama you heard from a friend this morning. his responses are simple, small nods and verbalized "mhm"'s, but they're effective.

"and then, come to find out, she told her that she was in the wrong, even though everyone knows she was literally just sticking up for herself..." you're getting to the climax of the story, the part that made you gasp and dramatically look around your apartment when you first heard the story over the phone. a smile is growing on your face as you wait for luca's reaction, but before it can come, you have to tell him the best part. and for that to happen, you have to continue speaking.

you don't even realize you've stopped speaking until luca prompts you to continue. but it takes you a second, because you need a moment to recover from how casually he has just moved you.

you've gone from standing in front of the spice cabinet, a place luca needed to reach, to standing in front of the sink. and you could've gotten there yourself if he spoke up and asked you to move, which he's done before. but you were in the middle of your story and he probably didn't want to interrupt you. so instead, he placed his hands on your hips, pushed you against the sink, and turned around to grab whatever seasonings he needed. like it was the most casual thing in the world.

and sure, you figure it is actually fairly casual. he's done it before, the most recent time being just a few days ago when you were furiously texting a group chat, too busy staring at the messages as they appeared to watch the sidewalk for any obstacles. before you could even realize that there was a bike coming towards you, luca had you moved out of the way and a middle finger thrown up towards the biker. it made you hot then, and it makes you hot now.

at your silence, luca looks up from his work.

"love? you were saying?"

you blink dumbly. it takes a second, but you try to recover. you resume your earlier position, arms crossed over your chest and ankles crossed over each other as you lean your weight back into the counter.

"yeah, right. where did i stop?"

"everyone knows she was just sticking up for herself but the other girl thought your friend's friend was in the wrong anyway—"

you take it from there, continuing your ramblings and exaggerating the story more and more as it builds, all while trying to push the image of luca's arms—tanned, big, and tattooed—to the back of your mind until you need that information.

which will likely be later in the night when you hope luca will manhandle you like that again.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

currently eating drywall while reading your Gaz pushup fic. I got an idea, Gaz pinning reader down under him and doing push-ups like that?

this is playing with fire anon.

1,843 / 15 / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz and distracting Gaz as he's counting reps

...

The next day, Gaz gives no indicator as to how many push-ups he's doing, and you're struggling to keep track. Your focus lies elsewhere--between his broad shoulders and muscular back; the way his t-shirt fits so tightly to his skin.

"You're not counting my reps this time, I take it?" he asks dryly.

You stiffen, in the middle of warmup stretches yourself. "Why, should I? Are you going to get distracted and miscount again?"

"I don't miscount." He pushes up. His biceps look like carved stone under the strain. "I just ignore people who try to get my attention while I'm working."

"Maybe I should lay under you this time so you can't ignore me." You chuckle absently at your own joke without fully registering the implications of what you just said. You also don't notice Gaz falter in his reps for the first time ever.

He buckles down onto one elbow. "I'm... sorry? Come again?"

Your brain catches up with your mouth just as you're trying to twist your left knee up and over your right hip. "Wait, I didn't mean like that. Or I did, but not in the way that, like, just with your chest-- wait, fuck--"

Still mid-stretch, his hand closes around your ankle.

"No, really, come again."

He pulls, dragging you under him, and you find yourself on your back, the workout mat stinging against the skin there. He hovers over you, his hands and knees caging you in.

"Lay under me?" he says. "Because that's what it sounds like that's what you're saying. Is that what you want? To be under me?"

You blink up at him. This shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Gaz is your workout buddy. You've been closer to him. Regularly.

It's the eye contact, isn't it? He looks hungry. Your gym buddy shouldn't be looking like he wants to devour you. He leans in closer, his eyes roving over you in a way you've never seen him do before. Obviously Gaz is an attractive guy--ridiculously so. But you've never seen him look at you like this. Your whole body is tingling with awareness.

You know you can put an end to this right now with a single comment. The fact that you don't want to is what makes his closeness feel new. If he were to lean down and kiss you right here on the gym mat, you would welcome it.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Gaz shifts again, leaning further over you. "I said, is that what you want?"

Your mouth is dry. Your tongue darts out go wet your lips and his eyes snap down to watch.

Your self-control wavers.

"Yeah," you tell him shortly. "Maybe I do."

Gaz's jaw sets. His body is tensing like a coiled spring. He is desperate to touch you. "Maybe isn't good enough," he grits out. His hand slides up from your hip to your waist, slipping under your shirt. "I want to hear yes."

nsfw ⬇

Your vision fogs a bit as his fingers graze the skin under your breasts. When he dragged you under him, you realize, the friction of the floor against your clothes rolled them up. Now your shorts and top are riding very high on your frame. He sees the way you're trembling, your hips writhing subtly under his touch. You're so exposed. It's so wrong. But he's enjoying the hell out of the view.

His hand disappears and he drops to his elbows, his hard body pressing up against yours. Your breath hitches. He chuckles. His mouth strays to your ear. 

"Easy," he breathes. "I'm not asking to have my way with you right here on the floor. I'm just asking for permission to touch you a little, yeah?"

Your heart clenches in your chest, catching oddly. "Oh, right. Y-Yeah."

"Sorry, are you disappointed?" His hand drifts back up your body, going straight to the elastic band of your sports bra. "Did you want me to take you right here? In this very public gym?"

You squirm as his thumb begins to work its way under the elastic. Your hands go to his chest, a rush of endorphins surging through you at the slight give of his form pectoral muscles under your fingers.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, voice still wavering more than you want it to. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"Oh, no, I'm just thinking out loud. You really need to watch your phrasing, boss. You're gonna make me think you're not as innocent as you like to act." His thumb rubs in slow circles over your soft skin as he speaks. "I’m just thinking about how cute you are when you're all flustered. And how pretty your eyes are. And how you’re not denying it.”

"You're the one who-- ah--" Your retort dies on your lips as his hand slips under your bra. His fingers run over your nipple, the rough texture of his callouses against the many nerve endings there making you jump.

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction when you respond so quickly to his touch. His forehead falls to your collarbone, trying to focus on you, on the sounds you're making. You're igniting his whole body. He squeezes your breast roughly, unable to help himself. He squeezes again when you squeak and he realizes just how much you like this, too. He tenses more and more with every breathless little jump and squeal.

You're barely aware of your own reactions. All you register is his hand on you and the heat in your face spreading down your neck and racing to your core.

His knee slides between your legs. It tears a ragged gasp from your throat. That only seems to encourage him, and he presses his body down harder over yours.

"You're so sensitive," he breathes out.

He grinds his knee up into you even more shamelessly, and you fist a handful of his tank top. "Wait," you protest. "Someone could walk in."

"So?" He growls, his voice suddenly rough. "Let them walk in and see. I'm not going to pretend I'm doing anything other than what you want--" His breath gets heavier as he shifts again, his knee easing back. Fuck, you're right. Someone is going to walk in any second. It's incredible nobody has already. This would be a compromising position to be found in, to put it very lightly. He's a senior officer over you. It looks bad for him to be over you.

Gaz forces his hand to still and pulls it out from under your shirt, swallowing. He sits up, dragging his gaze slowly down your body before he finally locks eyes with you again. Your clothes are in disarray; your chest is heaving; you're looking at him with such a debauched look in your eye he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them off you. Jesus. He's only touched one nipple and you already look like he's been fucking you. How are you real?

He grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet as he stands. "Come on, up."

"Where are we going?" you ask as he walks across the floor with your hand still in his grip. "Why did you stop?"

"We're going somewhere private." His grip stays firm as he drags you out through the front entrance. "And I stopped," he adds, "because you're going to get me in trouble if I keep going where we were."

"Wait." You tug his hand back as he pulls you past the entrance to the women's locker room and showers. "In here."

Gaz almost trips as your grip pulls him back.

"What?" His voice is an exasperated whisper.

But at your persistence, he lets you tow him over to the women's locker showers.

"What?" he repeats, this time quieter as he opens the door. "Are you--?"

But you step in after him, shutting the door behind you. Gaz's eyebrows go up.

"I guess you are."

"A lot less foot traffic in here. Enough time for a little hands-on training, right?" you say, pulling him further into the room. You start up one of the shower heads near the door, hoping the noise will cover up what you want to do. Then you strip your tank top and bra off in one swift motion, grabbing the hem of his shirt immediately after.

Gaz's throat goes dry at the sight of your exposed chest. He drinks in your body, his eyes roaming slowly and possessively. "Jesus, your body is-- fuck."

He grabs your hips and pushes you against the wash-tile in the nearest stall. You gasp at the cold of the tile on your naked back.

He runs his hands up your waist, groping your tits unabashedly. "We're way past hands-on training, love. That's your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah. Yours." Gaz's voice is rough with arousal. He hefts you up, grunting in satisfaction when your legs fasten around his waist. "You started this. You're the one who suggested laying under me. You didn’t have to say that. Did you think I was going to say no?"

You give him what is--somehow, even as you're naked from the waist up with your legs around him--a shy glance. "I didn't think you'd say yes."

His hands move up your legs, massaging your thighs then moving to your hips again. The way your body grips him, the way your legs squeeze him tightly to you--he's loving every goddamn inch of you.

"What do you expect a starving man to do when he's presented with a three-course meal right on the table?"

You scoff. "You are not starving."

"I'm starving for you," he grits out. "Don't be obtuse. God damn. You have no idea how often I’ve thought about getting my hands on you.” He rubs his fingers along the sensitive skin just over your waistband. “You have no idea just how much I’ve wanted to--”

He slides his hands up your body again, his fingertips tracing smooth undersides of your breasts. Even now he's holding back and his restraint is obvious. He could have you right now, pinned to the wall.

"I wanna devour you, you hear me? Every inch."

Your stomach flutters as his palms reach your ass and squeeze. You can't believe Gaz of all people wants you like this. "Is this gonna mess up our relationship as gym partners?"

"Probably. Definitely." He bites your earlobe the same place he bit it yesterday. This time, he laves his tongue against it. His breath is labored in your ear. "If you don't want that to happen. I need you to tell me." He rolls his hips against yours, groaning at the feeling of your heat through your thin workout shorts. "Right... right now."

"Is... is it wrong that I kinda want you to ruin it for the rest of time?"

"Good." He shifts one hand to run his fingers over the crux of your thighs from behind, making your back arch. "Because I'm going to destroy it beyond all reason."

...

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[my-castles-crumbling]

drought - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 331 - slight NSFW

"Prongs, I'm dying," Sirius lamented, throwing himself on the bed dramatically.

"Why this time?" James asked calmly, one eyebrow raised. It wasn't, of course, that he didn't care. It was that Sirius was often 'dying' over a simple problem.

"I'm suffering from a drought," Sirius whined. "It's been six weeks since I shagged anyone."

James rolled his eyes. "Wow. How are you even functioning, Pads?"

But Sirius, it seemed, was not in the mood for humor. "It's horrible! And it's not even that I haven't had the opportunity! It's that I keep getting distracted!"

And now, James was more interested. Because if Sirius could focus on anything, it was girls. "What do you mean?"

"I keep thinking of- of other things," Sirius explained, turning a bit pink, avoiding eye contact.

James let out a laugh. "Like what? Or- who?" And he had been joking, but the way Sirius suddenly turned a shade of maroon James had never seen before made him realize that he'd hit the nail on the head. "Wait- it's a who?"

"No! No, it's-" But Sirius shifted uncomfortably, biting at the corner of his pinky nail. "It's not like I like him or anything," he murmured under his breath.

But James heard, and immediately, he knew.

Because he saw how Sirius looked at Remus. And Lily had been insisting for ages. He'd just been too stubborn to believe her. "Fuck," he sighed, annoyed.

"What?" Sirius asked, sounding alarmed.

"I just have to do Evans's Transfiguration homework for a month," James grumbled, annoyance flooding through him.

"What? Why? And what does that have to do with-?"

"Because she's been saying for months that you and Moony will end up together," James sighed, standing up to go face the music. "And, as usual, she's always fucking right."

Sirius gaped at him as he headed toward the door.

"By the way," James added as he paused at the threshold, "Moony is completely gone for you, too. I'm sure he'd shag you."

[total-lunareclipse4]

🌜One sided hate🌛

pairing: five hargreeves x reader

summary: you work for The Commission, but so does your coworker who you hate. After a sweet gesture during your special day, you begin to wonder if maybe you’re the problem.

warnings: none I can think of

word count: 1.9 k

There wasn't anything extraordinary about today. You'd felt the same as always when you had woken up by the alarm blasting from your phone, and when you'd gone to turn it off, you'd realized that you didn't have any messages. Not that this came as a surprise to you, you hadn't even felt disappointed like years prior. The type of life you chose to lead was a very solitary one. Having a family wasn't compatible with working for The Commission, and friends got tired of associating with you when your work caused you to miss every important event in their life. Also, there was the fact that you didn't even stay in one place for long periods of time, traveling through humankind's history as if you were going from one country to another.

As you got in the shower, you dreaded going to work today. Usually, you were very fond of what you did, but today you were going in to do paperwork. Whenever a mission was over, you had to spend the next couple of days writing endless detailed reports about everything that had gone down for your supervisors to go over. In some cases, you would be called in and scolded for doing something reckless that had put in danger the integrity of the organization. That had only happened to you once, but the pain in the ass you had for a coworker had not let you live it down. He was the perfect employee, your boss adored him and everyone in the office was constantly kissing his ass. Not you, however, you did not care how good he was at what he did, you were also pretty damn good about it and didn't need to put others down to prove it.

Distracted by these thoughts, you lost track of time, realizing that you were now running late. Annoyed that you were going to have to miss breakfast, you quickly headed for your place of work. Upon arriving, you were quick to get inside, trying to hide from your boss so she wouldn't realize you were late. However, as your luck would have it, she was waiting for you by your desk.

With her red lips pressed firmly in a tight line and her pale arms crossed over her chest, she gave you a frown before speaking;

“Agent, a word.” She started walking towards her office and you had no choice but to follow. Once both of you were inside the room, you closed the door and sat down reluctantly.

“After today, that makes what? Three times you've been late this month?”

Four, actually. But you weren't going to correct her.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“No excuses today?” One of her eyebrows shot up.

With a sigh, you replied, “No, just a promise not to let this happen again.”

She looked taken aback by your change in attitude, being used to the endless rants that explained why you had been late that day. Some of your best stuff had been used during these meetings, realizing that you were most creative during the early hours of the morning.

“I love this job, and I'm good at it. I won't be late again, I promise.” You tried to keep your sentences as short as possible, wanting this conversation to end quickly.

Your boss rested her chin on her hand and waited a few seconds before speaking again.

“Look, I'm gonna be honest with you here. You have one of the best success rates, however, being a good killer doesn't necessarily make you a good worker. You need to take this job more seriously. Be on time, dress more professionally, hand in your reports when they’re due. Next time I won't be letting you go with just a warning.”

You tried to ignore her comment about your clothes, since you thought you usually looked very professional. There was a lot of thought put into your outfits. But this wasn't the time to argue with her.

“I'm sorry. Like I said, it won't happen again.”

“Good. Close the door on your way out.” You gladly took this as an opportunity to get out of her office, but when your hand had reached the handle, you heard her call after you.

“Wait, before I forget,”

So close, you thought.

“Have Five go over your report once you’re done with it.”

“What? Why?” your words carried a little more aggression than you'd intended, something that didn't go unnoticed by your superior.

“Because I'm telling you to do so.”

You debated if this was a discussion worth having, deciding that it indeed was.

“But he has the same rank as me, why is he supervising my work now?” You could tolerate putting in some extra work now that your job was sort of on the line, but answering to Five was something that you thought you could not tolerate.

“You have the same rank, yet, he’s never been late.” You knew this was a sign to drop the subject before she regretted not firing you in the first place.

You opened the door, resigned to leave.

“One more thing,” you heard her say, “don't ever question me again.

“Yes ma’ am,” you replied and went to sit over at your desk.

This was proving to be the worst birthday ever.

Once you were all settled in, you decided to start moving some files around, figuring that if you wanted to be taken more seriously, you had to start by cleaning up your place of work. That’s when you first noticed the little brown bag and the paper cup with your name written on it. Upon closer inspection, you realized they happened to be your favorite drink and pastry. There was also a note attached written in very neat handwriting that read: “Happy birthday, enjoy breakfast on me.” On the bottom left corner were three doodles you figured were a poor attempt at drawing balloons.

You looked around the office, but none of your coworkers seemed to be paying you any attention. Against your better judgment, you took a sip from the beverage, thankful that you were going to be able to eat some breakfast afterall.

Around noon, you were almost ready with your report, and you decided to take a quick lunch break as a reward for your work. You headed for the snacks machine, almost having forgotten about the terrible morning you’d had. However, things seemed to be going bad again when you noticed a particular coworker standing by the machine.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to rise above and walked over to get some food. You noticed he was whistling your favorite song, apparently not having realized you were there.

“Goodmorning,” you said as to let him know you were there.

Without turning back to look at you, he bent over to pick up the soda that had fallen from the machine and replied,

“Actually, it’s the afternoon.” Already annoyed, you looked down at your watch to realize he had been right. It was exactly twelve PM. You chose not to say anything, waiting for him to leave so you could buy your lunch, but instead, he opened his can with a loud POP and leaned against the machine.

“Did you like the breakfast? I wasn’t sure if that was still your order,” he asked.

You were shocked by the revelation, expecting the gift to have come from anyone but him. You had so many questions, and a couple of insults too. Regardless, the only thing you could mutter out was a poor attempt at being grateful.

“Yeah, thanks,” you spoke dryly.

“I know you never have any breakfast so I thought it an appropriate gift.” He took a sip from his soda.

“You couldn’t possibly know that,” you spat, annoyed.

He gave you a half grin, an insufferable look that said please, who do you think you’re talking to?

“You’re always late, usually looking like a hot mess. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you don’t have time to eat breakfast. Not saying that I’m not a genius though.” You hated that he was making assumptions about your life like that, however true they may be. He didn’t know the first thing about you.

“And humble too,” you replied, anger taking over your tone.

He furrowed his brow, as if confused by your response. Did he seriously expect you to act any differently after he called you a mess?

“Have I done something to offend you?” He asked.

You let out a loud puff. Where could you start?

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like garbage just because you’re on the good side of our boss.”

He let out a laugh, an actual audible laugh that made you want to strangle him.

“Buying you breakfast on your birthday is treating you like garbage now?” He always managed to twist your words to leave you looking like the bad guy.

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then what were you talking about? Enlighten me please, when have I ever been rude to you?”

This was your opportunity to show him how insufferable he had been over the years, however, after giving it some thought, you couldn’t come up with much.

“Like that time I got told off for making a mistake during a mission and you made fun of me afterwards.” You felt silly saying it out loud. It sounded so childish.

“That’s what this is about? I was just playing around, that’s what friends do!” He laughed again, taking another sip.

“We’re friends?”

“We aren’t?” He asked. His brows furrowed in a confused looked.

Suddenly, you realized all of the anger you had held against him over the years was nothing but one sided and utterly pointless, given that Five actually thought you two were friends.

“No, not to my knowledge,” your tone was soft, no longer mad but a bit embarrassed by your past attitude.

Five took a good look at you, inspecting you for a moment. He seemed to be making a choice in his mind, which he shared with you when he spoke again.

“Tell you what, let me take you out for dinner tonight, as a way to celebrate your birthday properly. We can actually talk and get to know each other then. That way you can make an informed decision about whether or not you wish to be my friend.”

You pondered about it for a few seconds, unsure if to trust the guy who you'd considered your enemy for as long as you’d worked here. After a little bit, you came to the conclusion that eating dinner with a coworker was better than sitting alone in your apartment feeding on leftovers, even if that coworker was Five Hargreeves.

“Fine, let’s have dinner.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yeah sure, whatever,” you smiled. You figured you could try to be a little kinder to him after years of unjustified rudeness.

He smiled back and began walking away, once he was a few feet away from you, he turned around to face you again.

“And hey, don't forget to have that report on my desk before you clock out today,” he said with a wink before leaving you alone.

The anger came back, making you feel the urge to punch that stupid grin off his face.

Maybe all was not forgiven.

……..

author’s note: I’ll probably do a part two if this goes well of them having dinner!

[ncis-nerd]

Natasha winking at you in a meeting

grey november au

-You were new to the building. Steve hired you to listen in on their meetings and take notes.

-After one of many arguments of who said what, Steve finally caved. He agreed to get someone who they vetted well to keep track.

-Now it was quite obvious you were younger than the old agents but it didn't stop the Russian spy from stealing glances at you.

-You'd be in the kitchen making coffee and turn around to the red-head inches away from you.

-Startled, you jump, nearly clashing into her. "Sorry dear, didn't mean to scare ya" she hummed, catching you in her arms.

-"O-oh, it's okay Miss Romanov, I really should be getting back to my work." You rush out of the room. Why was she everywhere you went? You could swear she was following you. But she won't do that...Would she?

-Later that day, Steve called an emergency meeting. Something about their enemies plotting a heist and they needed to stop that.

-You took your usual spot next to Steve, across from Natasha. You put your computer down on the table.

-"Alright, now that we have everyone.." Steve babbled on. You were just focused on typing. Documenting everything that was said.

-Steve stops talking for a second. You look up, Steve says "We will have Nat go in, she is the best lookin and our only chance at distracting the guard."

-You looked at Nat with doe eyes. Could Steve really do this? Why was Nat always the one who had to do their dirty work? Seducing the gross older men.

-Nat met your eyes and gave you a wink. Upon seeing your frown, she gives you a comforting smile. But you go back to your duty of typing.

-After the meeting is over, everyone has left. Well, except you and Nat. You were still typing but you're about done now. As you're getting up to leave, Nat grabs your arm.

-"Wait." She said, looking at you. You turn around, confused because Miss Romanov never makes you stay back. Did you do something wrong?

-Nat could sense your anxiety and sees you fidgeting nervously with your hoodie string. "Don't worry. You're not in trouble hun. Just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed upset in the meeting?" Nat question.

-You sighed "Miss Roman-" "Call me Natasha" the spy cut you off. "Natasha, it's wrong for them to treat you like this. Like- like you're just a pretty woman they can use to distract creepy men who can't keep it in their pants." You pouted, holding her hand.

-"Pretty? You think I'm pretty hm?" She teased. You were still frowning. She sighed, realizing this is what was bothering you before.

- "Okay, detka. I'll be honest with you. In this field of work, unfortunately most people will want you on missions just because youre a woman. I do lose a bunch of opportunities because of my gender but if I can help the planet then I think it's worth it." she says in a more serious tone.

-Softening her gaze when you ask her why she doesn't just quit. "It's not that simple, love." She sighed, wiping a stray tear that escaped your eye.

-You don't register you're crying until the older woman pulls you in. Embracing her warmth, she holds you close and strokes your hair. She closes her eyes, trying to remember this moment.

-That you are real and you care about her.

A/N: new possible au?? what we thinking? want more of this storyline?

taglist: @ssa-shaylam @madamevirgo @radcherryblossompainter @midastouch013 @dumbasslesbi @krystallevine @ellieromanov @midastouch013

[roosterforme]

Party of Three, Checking In | Rooster x Reader

Summary: According to Bradley, your pregnancy was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened. He could see and sense the small changes in your body, and he was already getting into dad mode. And now, after weeks of waiting, he could finally talk about it whenever he wanted to.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, allusions to smut, pregnancy topics

Length: 3300 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.

Bradley had you half undressed on your bed with his hands on your hips and his lips on yours. You had no doubt that he was excited. You could feel him. His mustache prickled your nose, and you moaned, trying to get more friction against your body. You needed more of him everywhere, but he slowly started to pull away. He was distracted. His eyes were drifting to the nightstand, and you knew what he was looking for.

"Holy shit," he gasped, reaching to grab the pile of ultrasound images. He managed to persuade your doctor to print twenty of them for him at your appointment two hours ago. And he just couldn't seem to put them down even as you wrapped your legs around him and laughed.

"Roo, you're being a tease."

He groaned and looked at the pictures and then at your face. "I'm not trying to, Baby Girl. I'm just so fucking excited." His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were blown wide as he added, "I can't get over how much the chicken nugget grew."

You bit your lip and ran your fingers through his already messy hair. The baby was starting to resemble an actual baby and not just a nugget. The heartbeat was strong, and everything was going great. You didn't even feel as sick as you did a few weeks ago. But Bradley was leaving very soon for another deployment, and you didn't want to rush him through his feelings. 

When you leaned up and pressed your lips to the paper airplane tattoo on his right bicep, his attention returned to you. "You'll be the best Daddy in the world," you promised.

"Sweetheart," he moaned, finally giving you some of that friction you needed with his big, warm body. "Call me Daddy again."

You ran your tongue over his tattoo before you whispered, "Daddy."

He tossed the ultrasound photos aside, and then his lips met your belly. "I love you. I love you both so much. I'm so excited."

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

On Saturday morning, it was hard to be upset about his upcoming deployment when Bradley took one good look at you. Your eyes were bright, and your smile was wide as you carried the iPad and a few of the ultrasound photos over to where he was sitting on the couch waiting. 

"You ready for this?" he asked, kissing along your neck as you turned the tablet on. "God, you smell good."

"Probably because I spilled coffee on my shirt," you murmured. 

Bradley grinned as you started up the facetime call to your parents. You were wearing his old shirt, and he ran his nose along your ear and whispered, "You always smell nice."

You made a soft sound as the iPad rang. "You're just extra horny for me right now because of the Nugget."

"Perhaps," he replied, fully knowing he was usually like this. "But you're over the top for me right now, so it's only fair."

"Hi!"

Bradley jumped a few inches away from you as your mom answered the call. "Hey, mom," you said with a smile as you tried to pull Bradley's hand out from under the shirt you were wearing. When he looked at himself on the tablet screen, he realized his cheeks were flushed, so he scooted a couple more inches away from you and tried to keep his hands to himself. 

"Wait, hang on and I'll get Dad." Your mom vanished from view, but Bradley could hear her calling your father's name loudly throughout their house. 

"They are going to lose their minds," you whispered excitedly as you laced your fingers with his. The two of you had been waiting until after your twelve week appointment to start telling family and friends about your pregnancy. On top of your nausea finally starting to calm down, you looked absolutely stunning. Bradley could finally admit that yes, your ass was looking a little bigger these days, but definitely in a good way. You kept telling him you were bloated, but he thought you looked like a fucking goddess. There was just something extra delightful about your tits now, too....

"Hi," your dad huffed, clearly out of breath as he and your mom both appeared on the call. "Sorry, I was outside getting ready to cut the grass."

You turned to look at Bradley, and he nodded at you with a little grin. "We won't keep you too long. We just wanted to tell you something."

"Is everything okay?" your mom asked, brow furrowed as she leaned a little closer to the screen. "Bradley, did something happen with your deployment? Is it longer now?"

"No," he replied immediately, because she sounded so worried. "We're calling about something exciting. Well, we're excited about it, and we think you will be, too."

Your parents still looked confused as you leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then you held up one of the new photos of the nugget and said, "I'm pregnant. You're going to be grandparents."

Your dad gasped, and your mom was immediately shoving her reading glasses onto her face to get a better look. "Grandparents?" your dad asked with a smile, but your mom shrieked. 

"Grandparents," Bradley confirmed a little louder over the delighted screaming.

"Oh my god!" your mom wailed, shaking her husband. "We have to move to California. Take the early retirement package. We have to move! We're going to be grandparents!" Then she looked back at the iPad as you started to laugh. "I'll call our realtor on Monday, and I'll start looking at listings in San Diego again. When are you due? I wonder if we can move by the spring!"

"Late March," you told her as you held the ultrasound images a little closer to the camera for your dad to look at while your mom started to pace.

"Kind of looks like a cute chicken nugget," your dad said with a soft smile. 

"Right?!" Bradley said excitedly. "That's what I've been saying!"

Your dad reached for your mom and finally got her to stop walking around the kitchen in a daze. "Your mom and I have been talking about moving anyway, and being in a warmer climate near the two of you.... I mean the three of you... would probably be ideal."

Bradley noticed a few happy tears in your eyes as well as your mom's. "That would be great, dad," you whispered.

A few minutes later, you and your mom were all giggles as you ended the call, and Bradley couldn't stop smiling either. After you tossed the iPad and the photos onto the coffee table, you crawled onto his lap and cupped his face in both of your hands. "I can't wait to tell everyone at the Hard Deck tonight," you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.

"Nat is going to lose her fucking mind," he muttered, his lips brushing yours. "She spent years picking on me for being unwilling to settle down, and now we're having a kid."

Truthfully, he never minded. Nat kind of became his family after his mom died; she was the first person he really opened up to. She was there to witness the aftermath of his one night stands and his adamant insistence that bachelorhood was what he wanted. He just never knew he could have a partner until he met you. 

You raked your fingers through his hair, soothing him in that way that only you could as you kissed the scars on his cheek. Then you whispered, "I'm glad we told your parents first."

Somehow you always knew what to say and when to say it. Bradley tightened his hold on you until your chest was pressed to his. "You made that happen," he muttered. "Because you're perfect."

Your cheek came to rest on his shoulder, and Bradley could hear tears in your eyes as you said, "I wish I could have met them."

"Don't cry, Baby Girl. My parents are smiling somewhere at the thought of the nugget. I just know it."

It took Bradley a minute to realize that your soft breathing and limp arms around him meant that you were asleep, and he had to try not to shake you with his silent laughter. He knew you were exhausted so he sat quietly with your body cradled against his, looking forward to the day when he could hold you in one arm and the baby in the other. 

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

Everyone seemed to think the whole purpose of the night out at the Hard Deck was to wish Bradley and Reuben good luck on their upcoming special deployment, and that was fine with you. That was part of the reason you tried to get everyone to come out on Saturday evening for a drink, but it wasn't the only reason.

"You ready to go?" Bradley asked as he walked into the bedroom where you were still getting dressed. You took one look at him in his snuggest fitting pair of jeans and the tropical print shirt that matched the one you were wearing. You squeaked softly.

"Almost." But now you were thinking about just staying home, unzipping his jeans and getting in bed. "You look hot."

He smirked and picked up the ultrasound photos as you struggled to button your own jeans which were starting to feel a little tight now just like your uniform pants. "And you look like I'm gonna fuck you hard into the bed later tonight."

"Let's stay home," you said quickly, but he was already shaking his head.

"I want everyone to know about the nugget before I deploy. You'll just have to whine and bug for me to bring you home from the bar earlier rather than later."

You rolled your eyes but led the way out to the kitchen where you pulled a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator. It was icy cold, and you knew it was going to taste delicious, but you didn't want to open it until you got there. Bradley led you outside to his Bronco and buckled you in after he handed you the pictures of the baby. It wasn't a long drive to the Hard Deck, and the two of you started taking bets about who was going to cry.

"Mav will shed some tears," Bradley rasped as he drove.

"No, he won't!" you insisted. "But Maria will. And so will Bob and Penny."

"There's no way Bob will cry."

"He will!"

"Nah. But I think you're underestimating how sappy Maverick can get."

You shook your head as he pulled into the parking lot. "What if everyone cries?Oh my god, what if nobody cries?" you asked as you walked along, holding his hand.

"Nat is a given," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he pulled the door open for you to walk into the noisy bar. "Just wait."

With your fingers laced together, you and Bradley headed right for the bar where Penny was taking a handful of orders. When she caught sight of the two of you, she held up two fingers. "This is where the fun begins," you whispered as Bradley held up just one finger in response. Penny looked a little confused, but she got just one bottle of your favorite beer ready instead of two. When she set it down, you asked, "Penny, could I get a straw for my Gatorade?"

"Sure," she told you with narrowed eyes, reaching for a straw without taking her eyes off you as you opened your drink. "Here you go."

"Thanks!" you replied cheerfully. When you walked away with Bradley's big hand resting just above your butt, you felt her eyes following the two of you. "I think she's suspicious."

"Excellent," Bradley murmured before taking a sip of his beer. The first person to greet both of you near the pool table was Reuben who would be leaving with Bradley on this dreaded deployment. 

"What's up man?" he asked your husband before leaning down and pulling you in for a hug. "Hey, can you bake some of those cookies I like and send them away with Rooster?"

You laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "Yes. As long as you look after him for me."

"I always do," he told you with a wink. He looked at your drink and asked, "You want something from the bar?"

"Nope," you told him, hoisting your plastic bottle a little higher as Bradley's hand slid lower to your butt. "I'm all set."

"O-kay," he said, looking as puzzled as Penny. Everyone was used to seeing you and Bradley with matching beers in your hands, including Cam and Maria who both materialized next to you.

"Which aviators are single again?" Cam asked, glancing around so suspiciously you snorted.

Maria smirked and said, "Not Bradley. Not Jake. Not Bob."

You gasped as you looked at Bob leaning on the edge of the pool table lining up a shot next to Maverick. "You made it official? You're not just fucking and cuddling with him all night?"

"It's official," she said, smiling at him when he looked up at her. Then she turned back to you. "Want me to get you a beer or a tequila shot or something?"

"No, I'm good," you told her, tapping her drink with your Gatorade. 

"Mmmk," she said, giving you a bit of side eye as she walked away. Now Bradley was talking to Jake and Cat about his deployment. They were the only two here who already knew you were pregnant and that tonight was supposed to be the unveiling.

"Nobody guessed yet?" Cat whispered to you. "I've never seen you drink anything except a beer when you're out for the night."

You shook your head and laughed. "Give it another minute." 

When Bradley's hand slid down to cup your butt through your jeans, you had to press your lips together to keep from giggling. He kept telling you that the way you were filling out your pants was working for him, and you'd taken to wearing yoga pants around the house with more frequency as a result. 

"Here she comes," Bradley rasped next to your ear, sending a ripple of anticipation down your spine as his best friend came barrelling your way. He gave you a little pat and pushed you toward Phoenix.

"Hey, Nat," you greeted with a smile.

"What is this shit?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at your Gatorade. "I'll get you a real drink." Then she glanced at Bradley where he was hovering next to you with a grin. "The two of you look like idiots in your matching shirts, and I am not saying that with love."

He burst out laughing. "Thanks, Nat."

"Let's get that drink," she said, but then her eyes shifted between Bradley's face and yours as you brought the straw up to your lips and took a long sip. Bradley's hand migrated from your butt, wrapping around your waist and pulling you slightly in front of him as his palm came to rest on your belly over your tropical button down. 

"I'm actually all good with this one." Now, when you raised your bottle, Nat's gaze dropped down to Bradley's hand, and she gasped so loudly, she sloshed some of her drink onto her hand.

"You're not. Are you?" she asked, eyes wide. "Are you? Bradley!"

When you looked up at your husband, he leaned down and kissed you as he chuckled. He was looking at you with the most loving expression, his gaze never wavering as he said, "Go on ahead and say it, Nat."

"Are you pregnant?" she practically screeched, and when you looked at her and nodded, she burst into tears.

"You were right," you told Bradley as his best friend slammed into him, the liquid from her glass sloshing all over Mickey. "She's definitely crying."

"Crying about what?" Bob asked in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"Rooster's gonna be a dad!" Nat wailed, squeezing him around the waist before switching and hugging you tight. "He knocked up his wife, and that's why she's drinking Gatorade!"

Next thing you knew, Bradley was unbuttoning his shirt with a bright smile, revealing the tee underneath that read Dad in the Streets, Daddy in the Sheets.

"Roo!" you gasped when you read it, but it was too late for you to be annoyed by it. Your friends were closing in on the two of you, and you reached out for Bradley's hand. 

"Congratulations!"

"I was wondering why you were drinking a Gatorade!"

"Are you serious right now?!"

"This is so exciting!"

Bradley only released your hand to give Maverick a hug, and you were surprised to find that he was definitely crying. But now you were crying, too. Because everyone you cared about knew now. Bradley's parents and your parents and the community of friends that you loved so much. They all knew.

"A round of Gatorades on me!" Cam called out before picking you up off the floor in a bear hug. "Oh shit, I don't want to hurt the baby," he said before practically dropping you back on the floor. 

But then Jake caught you in his arms while someone handed Bradley a bottle of champagne. "I'm happy for you, Angel. I know how much you both wanted this. That man worships the ground you walk on. It's actually pretty distressing to think about, but he'll be the same way with the kiddo."

You couldn't even keep track of how many people had given you a hug. Penny brought you some sparkling grape juice, and Reuben offered to run to get food if you were hungry. You kept swiping at the tears in your eyes, but Bradley had no shame at all. 

"I love you, Baby Girl!" he called from a few feet away where he was handing out the ultrasound pictures like they were celebratory cigars and sipping on the champagne bottle. "Look how adorable this nugget is," he was telling Nat and Maverick. "I'm gonna have the cutest baby ever. I mean look how fucking perfect my wife is."

You found his obnoxious shirt more endearing now than annoying, and when you tucked yourself against his side, his lips tasted like champagne. And he smelled delicious. And he looked incredible. "Oh no," you moaned softly as he put the remaining few photos in his jeans pocket. "Roo."

He looked down at you and smiled before chugging what was left in the bottle. You watched the scars pull taut on his neck as he swallowed, and your hand came to rest on his abs. After he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he asked, "You about ready for me to take you home and fuck you hard into the bed?" 

You didn't even care who heard him as you dug the Bronco key out of his pocket. "I'll drive, Daddy. You save your energy."

After that, you and he made a pretty hasty exit which was a surprise to exactly nobody. As much as you were dreading sending him on a deployment while you were pregnant, you know that you'd have so many people around you who would be happy to help you if needed. 

Once you started to buckle Bradley into the passenger seat, he placed a few sloppy kisses on your cheek. When he pulled you onto his lap, you whispered, "I'm going to have the sweetest baby in the world. I mean look how fucking perfect my husband is."

He cupped your cheek with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Let's go home."

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

Bradley was bursting at the seams with excitement! Dad mode has been activated. Baby Girl seems to be over the morning sickness hump. And pretty soon we'll send Bradley away. I'll post a few more one-shots, and then we dive into a new series! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[barcaatthemoon]

casual ii || jenni hermoso x reader ||

Your first camp with Spain after breaking things off with Alexia doesn't quite go as planed.

Previous.

"Oh god, this is a mistake. I can't do this. Jenni, I need to leave." You tried to scramble around and look for an exit, but you were stuck. Jenni pulled you back down into your seat gently. The last thing you needed was for her to think that she was annoyed with you. Coming back to Spain for a camp had been hard, especially since you had skipped out on the Olympics because you couldn't stand to play with Alexia so soon after your breakup.

"Hey, look at me, you'll be fine. If anything, Alexia is probably freaking out about having to see you," Jenni said. She had hoped that it would help, but it didn't. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you tried to calm yourself down a bit, but it was no use. "Don't think about camp. Think about the whole weekend you're getting at Mapi's before you fly into Madrid."

The thought of hanging out with your sister was great. You had been missing her greatly since your move to America. Jenni was great to have around, but she wasn't Mapi. Also, there was still a lot of distance between you and Jenni with the older woman being in Mexico for the majority of the time. Still, she checked in on you more than anybody else, and if you weren't so afraid of opening up, you definitely would have tried to shoot your shot.

"Ah, there you are! I've been waiting so long for you to come visit," Mapi greeted you happily. She pulled you into a tight hug, holding you against her for several seconds as the crowd moved around you. She pulled away a little and turned to face Jenni. "I don't know what you said to her, but thank you for getting her to come."

"I don't know what you're talking about. (Y/n) made the decision that would be good for her career because she wouldn't let a silly breakup ruin such an important aspect of her life." Jenni spoke slowly as she looked at you, a silent reminder not to go back on your committment to your team.

"Enough about the camp. Mapi, are you sure that Ingrid is alright with me staying?" you asked. Mapi nodded as she moved to grab your suitcase. Jenni carried her own things, lagging just a bit behind the two of you on the way to the car. Your sister was excited to see you, which didn't surprise you at all. Ingrid had texted you a few times asking if you'd call Mapi to help improve her mood during your time away.

Barcelona was beautiful, and every bit your home in the ways that DC hadn't been. America was nice, but it wasn't the same. You missed the people and the culture. You were surprised that half of your old teammates weren't waiting for you at Mapi's, knowing that the woman had most likely been going on about your visit from the moment that she had found out about it.

Mapi had never been good about keeping secrets. If she was excited about something, then she wanted to tell everybody about it. She had always been this way, and to an extent, you had as well. You couldn't even begin to count all of the times that you had nearly told Mapi or another teammate about your thing with Alexia, which turned out to mean a lot more to you than it had to her.

"Hey, it's okay," Jenni said as she gently squeezed your hand. You caught a glance of yourself in the rearview mirror and realized that every bit of sadness and regret you were feeling was prominently displayed on your face. Mapi wasn't looking at you, her eyes instead locked in on the road. You were grateful for the distraction, especially when you started to blush as Jenni's hand lingered.

You could almost hear your older sister yelling at you in your head for thinking about Jenni like that. There were a lot of reasons that Mapi would have never approved. Jenni was older than her, and that was a big thing that Mapi hated. Jenni was also a teammate, and one of the only reasons that you had been able to stay in America. You felt like you weren't as alone, and if things went badly, then you had no idea where you'd run off to next. You had to stop dating teammates because you found yourself loving too much.

"(Y/n), let's go! Bagheera misses you." Mapi tugged on your arm, yanking you out of the car. You glanced back at where your backpack was still in Mapi's car, only to see Jenni carrying it up for you. She gave you a little smile and wave, the same one that made been making your heart flutter in your chest for the past few months. "Why are you dragging your feet?"

"Why are you trying to rip my arm off right before my first camp back?" you questioned. Mapi dropped your hand, which you thought was a nice alternative before she picked you up. At this, Jenni audibly laughed as you flailed until Mapi set you down in the elevator. You tried to get away from your sister by hiding behind Jenni, but the taller woman was not a willing human shield.

…

It didn't take long for you and Alexia to find yourselves alone with each other. In all honesty, it hadn't even been purposeful on either end. You didn't want to be anywhere near Alexia, and Alexia had only just begun to patch things up with Mapi, so she wasn't going to ruin that. It had been a complete accident really, one that you knew in hindsight that you should have been able to avoid.

"You've been playing differently," Alexia said.

"Is that a problem?" Your tone was snappy, something that Alexia would have punished you for before. Now, you weren't hers to punish. There wasn't much Alexia could do without you throwing something back at her face, so she didn't mention your tone.

"No, you bring something new to the team. I was just, um, noticing. I'm sorry if I was rude," Alexia said nervously. You liked the knowledge that you made Alexia nervous. "I am sorry for a lot of things, actually."

"Do you really want to do this in the locker room?" you asked. Alexia sighed as she glanced over towards you. She hadn't really looked at you much at all this camp. It felt easier for her to ignore you than own up to her actions. Alexia had always run from her feelings, but that was how the two of you had gotten here in the first place.

"I don't know if I can do this later, so I guess it has to be here. I liked seeing you in my bed a little too much for what I told myself that we were, so I freaked out on you, and I am sorry," Alexia said. You almost wished that she would have told you that sooner, but she didn't. You almost wished that she would have stopped you from going to America, but she didn't. Instead, you just wished that Jenni would realize you hadn't made it back yet.

"Alexia, I only want one thing from you. Treat me like your teammate because that's all that we are. I was never your girlfriend, forget that we slept together. I'm your teammate and best friend's little sister, that is all." You felt like you had been clear and concise with your words. Alexia stiffened up at them, almost like she was going to say something to you, but just before she could open her mouth, your knight in shining armor came running in.

"There you are. Is everything okay? You were taking a long time, and I got worried." Jenni's words came quickly as she placed her hands on your shoulders. You gave her a small nod as you turned away from Alexia completely. Jenni grabbed your bag for you as she put her other arm around your shoulders to guide you. "She didn't say anything to you, did she?"

"No, no, just an apology. Thanks for looking out for me," you said. Jenni blushed a little, but still tried to play it cool. "I only wish I would have transferred a little closer to you."

"I'm glad that you didn't. You would get sick of me if I were any closer to you. I'm just far away enough for you to want me around," Jenni reasoned. You didn't know if that was true or not, but you doubted it. You had spent years in Barcelona with Jenni close by and never gotten sick of her. Not even whenever she had teamed up with Leila and Mapi to pull pranks on you.

Those had been the good old days, and you wished that you had been smart enough to look elsewhere for affection. Alexia had always claimed that she wasn't flirting with you to get back at Mapi and Alba, but you knew better. Deep down inside of yourself, you knew that it had been for revenge. Alexia had just let it spiral, and rather than break things off early, she let you keep digging your own grave.

Anger bubbled up inside of you, stewing the longer that you thought about Alexia. You had been doing good for most of the camp, but you were reaching your breaking point. The apology hadn't brought closure, but rather the opposite. Wounds were opening and re-opening at a pace that you couldn't keep up with. And just as you were about to fully break down, you found yourself at Jenni's door.

"Let me stay. Please Jenni, just let me stay." You were begging before Jenni could even ask if you were okay. The taller woman pulled you into her room, holding you tightly in her arms as you let yourself break down. It was far from your best moment, but Jenni gave you the comfort you so desperately needed.

"I can call Mapi if you want her," Jenni offered.

"No, all I want is you," you mumbled. Jenni seemed a bit taken aback by your statement. "Why couldn't I have liked you instead of her? We could have been happy by now, and I wouldn't be ruined."

"You're not ruined. I see every single day how much love and joy you have in your heart, despite how much you hurt. Some people aren't good at seeing that, so they don't understand how easily it can be snuffed out. You've been hurt, and every single day I see how you heal from it. One day, you'll make someone very lucky extremely happy," Jenni said. You heard her words, and you couldn't help but hope that she would be that person.

"Do you think that you could love me?" you asked her. It felt like a silly question. Jenni was a loving person, and even if she never could fall for you, she'd always love you. You meant something to someone who was important to her, and you could only hope that maybe you started to mean something to her as well.

"Of course I love you. I have loved you for years, and sometimes, I wonder if maybe I'm a little in love with you too. It's hard not to be. I'll never understand what happened with Alexia, no matter how hard I try," Jenni admitted. You tipped your head back a bit to stare up at her, hoping against hope that you found something disingenuous in her, only to find true honesty instead.

"I think I'm in love with you too, if it counts for anything. I'm just scared. After Alexia, the idea of letting go terrifies me," you said. Jenni cupped your cheeks, and before she could make another move, you leaned up to kiss her. You may have hooked up with strangers a few times, but it was nothing compared to Jenni. Not even kissing Alexia felt like this. There was a distinct lack of emotion with kissing Alexia that had left you feeling somewhat empty before.

"As much as I would love to invite you back to my bed right now, I don't want to rush this," Jenni said. Her voice was nearly a whisper, as if she was afraid of scaring you off. You started to pull away, but Jenni was quick to stop you. "But that doesn't mean you have to leave right now. It's not that late…"