#I need to not check my business email late at night

[thebibliosphere]

Amazon keeps sending me “congratulations, you’ve been approved for our creator/influencer rewards program” emails and then because I don’t sign up, they send me more emails listing the benefits of upgrading to being an Amazon Influencer and it’s like Worstie, I know the price of doing business with you.

The only reason I use Amazon affiliate links for my published books at all is because I am currently making something depressing like a dollar from the sales of my paperbacks across global distributors (Audible sent me a check for 18 cents lmao) and the affiliate links help scrape up enough pennies every other month that I actually earn the full retail value of one whole paperback book.

Leave me alone!!! I don’t want to sell people shit they don’t need!!! I just want to sell my books. And even that I’m so bad at that someone in the notes is goin g to go “wait, you’re an author?” Aaaahh

[enchantedflameandflower]

Billy Butcher x you oneshot!

Billy knows how to really take care of you when you need it most…

18+ only smut, piv, cock warming, creampie

Merry Christmas! 😘

~*~*~

It was getting late. Butcher was watching a movie on the couch, but you were sitting at the table, finishing up some work.

When you were finally done, you gave a huge sigh of relief and checked your email one last time.

"Fuck," you groaned as you opened the 5th message from your boss that night asking you for a report on one of your projects. Frustration and tension and anxiety surged inside of you like the tide, and for a moment all you could do was sit there and stare at the screen.

Butcher had paused halfway through his movie as he got up to get a drink and seemed to sense what was happening. Honestly, you were stressed a lot these days. Most of the time he wouldn't notice, or at least would just let you be but right now you felt like you were at your tipping point.

"C'mere doll," he said from behind you.

You glanced over your shoulder to tell him you were busy, but the fierce look in his eyes told you he was not going to take no for an answer.

You sighed when you stood up and went over to him but all you were thinking was 'he noticed.'

Butcher slid his hands around your waist, tugging you against him. "You've been workin' too hard."

All of the breath in your lungs seemed to escape in one big whoosh. "It's just how it is this time of year. I just have one more report to work on. And I need to do my laundry. And it's Thursday."

Butcher leaned back, lifting his eyebrow at you.

"Dusting day," you explained meekly.

Billy gave you a look. "I'll do yer laundry with mine and dustin' can wait. What can I do tonight to make ya sit still for a while and let yerself go?"

You leaned forward wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his broad chest. He was right, you felt like you were about to collapse but there was still so much to do...

"Maybe just hold me," you said softly.

"I'd be chuffed, love, but yer mind would still be whirlin' wouldn't it. Need somethin' to distract that pretty head o' yours too."

He rubbed your back for a moment as he thought and a soft, but tired, little sound escaped your throat. He knew you, and he knew it had to be something different to truly get your mind off of your worries right now.

He glanced at the tv where the movie was paused, then back to you. "Up for a little playin', love? I've got an idea."

The look in his eye told you it was something interesting and you couldn't help immediately being intrigued. "Maybe...what would I have to do?"

"Nothin' love. Go and change inta somethin' comfy. Just a shirt, nothin' else, then come back out and sit with me."

"Ok." You gave him a kiss before you retreated into your shared bedroom.

When you came back out he was sitting on the couch and he groaned as soon as he saw you.

"Fuck me," he muttered.

You grinned at him, pleased. You'd changed into one of his shirts, and you'd left it unbuttoned, though it was pulled around you at the moment. It was soft and it barely came to the tops of your thighs.

"Well c'mon," he husked, patting his lap and letting his heated gaze roam over you.

You climbed into his lap kneeling over him and sitting back on his thighs. "If your idea is to fuck me..." you deadpanned.

He smirked wickedly, his hands sliding to your hips. "Nah it ain't that. You know you'd be comin' in minutes, love, then you'd be right back to your troubles again wouldn't ya? Need somethin' to relax yer brain fer a lot longer than that. Besides I need t'finish me film."

Well...he wasn't wrong.

For a moment you met his eyes, gleaming with mischief, and you could feel his cock swelling beneath you...and then you realized what he wanted to do. A surprising pulse of lust surged through your veins and you knew you were immediately wet for him. It wasn't something you'd ever thought of before but now that you did...now that you did you were more than eager to try. That might actually work.

His hazel eyes glinted with desire even as they darkened. "Be a good girl and get me cock out, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding your head and sliding back off his lap. He gave you a look and you obeyed instantly, working his belt free and opening his jeans. He shifted his hips so you could tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and ready for you.

"How do you want me?" you whispered.

"Facin' the telly, yeah? Wouldn't want you to miss the rest o' the film."

You hadn't really seen the first half as you'd been working at the same time, but you had a feeling that didn't matter. And maybe it would help to have something to watch to help distract you from his...distracting.

You stood up and turned around as he slid one big hand around the base of his cock to steady it, and gripped your hip with the other.

"Ready, doll," he murmured low, and you moved to sit on him slowly, his hand positioning you with a tight grip.

When you felt the head of his cock at your entrance, a little moan left your lips but he kept guiding you down without pause.

"Fuck..." you breathed. Without much preparation, the fit was tight and he stretched you almost uncomfortably but you knew your body would adjust.

"Fuckin' hell, love, your gushin'," he groaned. "Must've liked this idea more than I realized."

You wanted to argue but a broken moan was all that left your lips. You took a breath as you took him all way, you ass quickly pressing flush against his thighs. "Oh my god..." you whimpered. Syrupy pleasure flooded through your body, making your clit throb and your cunt flutter around his cock as you thought about him making you stay like this.

Billy gripped your hips hard with both hands and you felt another gush of wetness around his cock. "Easy now. Take a deep breath fer me, love. Yer gonna have to calm down if yer gonna be a good girl and let me keep ya on me cock till I'm done watchin'."

"Oh fuck," you moaned breathily, closing your eyes and biting your lip hard. Breathe.

His hands rubbed soothingly over your hips and outer thighs and you took a slow deep breath and licked your lips, focusing on the tv in front of you. You caught sight of the time bar and you almost groaned at the amount of time that was left, just a little less than an hour. Breathe.

He felt so thick inside of you, the size of him alone lighting up every nerve ending you had. But you had a long way to go so you took another deep breath, and finally your body let go of some of the tension, just a little.

That's my girl," Billy murmured low from behind you. He slid one arm around you and urged you to press back against his chest. "Just rest here for a bit, filled up with me cock, not thinkin' 'bout nothin' else."

Your only answer was another whimper and he gave a low chuckle as he started the movie again.

Your bare legs were draped over his jean clad thighs and you had to be careful not to let his open zipper scrape across your inner thighs or worse. Incentive not to move, you supposed.

You swallowed again, trying hard not to clench around him, but you couldn't help the little flutters of your cunt anytime his cock twitched or he shifted even the tiniest bit.

How he was keeping his own control so easily, you had no idea. Probably had a wank in the shower earlier, you sighed to yourself.

His chest was warm against your back and his big hand was rubbing your thigh. You really tried to watch the movie, but fuck, he was so deep like this. His cock was fiery hot inside of you and you swore you could feel the veins that ran the length of it. You felt every inch of him.

Minutes ticked by slowly, and you did your best for almost 15 of them, but as pleasure continued to pool in your center, and your body adjusted to his size, relaxing and taking him deeper, all you could think about was getting relief. You were dripping and you were sure he could feel it, but still he seemed as relaxed as ever, lazily stroking your thigh as he watched the tv.

Then before you could try to stop yourself, your hips rocked on top of his lap and a soft little cry escaped as bliss erupted inside you, making your whole body tense and buzz, making your fingertips tingle.

Billy rumbled and caught your hips with both hands, gripping hard, holding you still. "No movin', doll."

Your clit throbbed helplessly, completely neglected and you had to bite your lip to keep from whining pathetically, clenching your hands on your thighs.

"Breathe," he murmured, his beard tickling the curve of your neck as he leaned forward. You took a gulp of air, and then another, not even realizing you'd stopped.

Breathe.

Finally, you caught your breath and your lust lowered back to a simmer.

"That's a good girl fer me," Billy said, kneading your hips in reward but all you could do was groan at his praise and it made your cunt flutter around him again.

"Don't say that," you whimpered.

He gave a quiet laugh and patted your leg. "We'll have to keep practicin' this," he said low against the shell of your ear, then went back to watching the movie.

You slumped back against his broad chest again and his arm came around you. Instead of thinking about the way his cock was filling you, you tried to focus on letting your palm play over the little hairs on his forearm. After another 15 minutes, a hazy-sweet fog started to drift over your mind, some combination of dazed and still wildly turned on.

Anytime he moved it sent a jolt of pleasure through you but you were starting to get used to it, learning to let it soften into your body, banking it for later. After a while you couldn't even tell where he ended and you began, he was just a part of you.

At some point you must have completely spaced out, because you suddenly realized the tv was off. Billy was smoothing his hands slowly over your stomach and your thighs and your hips, still thick and big inside of you.

"Did I do it?" you murmured languidly.

Billy leaned closer, kissing the side of your neck, his mustache and his beard scratching sensitive skin spectacularly. "You did it. Such a good girl. My girl..."

You made a lilting, blissful sound and wrapped your fingers around his forearms, desperately needing to hold on to something.

"Think you can come for me now, pet?" His voice was gravelly and rough in your ear.

"Mmmm...mmhmm..." You gripped his arm tighter, unable to get your mind to even form another word. Every single worry was completely gone and you couldn't care less about anything except this right here.

Billy shifted underneath you, pushing his jeans further down his thighs and the movement made him thrust up into you.

You cried out, trembling with need, and he made a low sound to soothe you. "I've got ya, love. I'll take care now..."

It was too much to hold yourself up so you fell back against him and he rumbled approvingly. The vibration in his chest only added to your pleasure.

He pulled the edges of his shirt that you were wearing apart so you were totally exposed and tugged it down so your shoulders were bare but didn't bother taking it all the way off. Then he wrapped his hands around your bare waist and began to thrust up into you. "Fuck," he groaned. "Wasn't gonna last much longer either, love."

One of his big hands slid up to engulf your breast, kneading the weight of it in his palm then pinching your tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your heart stuttered as you gasped for breath, every nerve lighting up. Billy knew how to make your body sing.

Lifting one arm, you curled it around him to thread your fingers through his hair and let your eyes flutter closed, just feeling him.

Every single thrust hit the right spot and made you whimper or moan or cry. Pleasure seemed to only crest higher and higher inside you, no limit in sight.

Within moments, as he had predicted earlier, you were on the brink of orgasm, but you wanted more, needed it. Grabbing at his hand on your waist, you pushed it down, guiding his fingers to where you were joined.

Billy moaned, his lips brushing the nape of your neck. "Mmmm, needy little thing, ain't ya..." he teased, but he deftly nestled two fingertips right over your swollen clit.

The second he started to circle over the throbbing nub your bliss heightened ten-fold...it had been left ignored for too long.

Your cries now were so much that you vaguely wondered if the neighbors would be concerned but there was nothing you could do, and Billy didn't seem to care at all.

His fingers slowed when he sensed you were almost there and he used his free hand to move your knees to the outside of his so he could push your legs farther apart with his own, wide open for him, and stuffed full.

Then his fingertips returned to their fast, slick circles with haste.

The eruption of your climax happened immediately and all you could do was cry out his name. Your entire body tensed in pleasure, wave after wave crashing through you in relentless pulses as he continued to stroke your clit.

The growl Billy let loose against your shoulder in response was earth-shaking. You had never felt an orgasm this intense before and you could tell your thighs and his fingers and his cock were drenched.

"Fuckin' "ell," he groaned. He moved to grip your hips with both hands one last time, the fingers on one hand still slick with you, and he bucked up into you, rough and erratic as his own orgasm began.

Burying his face against the curve of your neck, he bit down, moaning, low and gruff.

Broken whimpers and unintelligible words fell from your lips as every sensation continued to bounce and ping through your body like a pinball machine.

You could feel his come, hot and thick, spurting deep inside you. It felt just as good as everything else this night.

By the end of it you were completely expended, weak in his lap. You wouldn't be able to move even if the apartment caught on fire.

Billy was slumped into the couch now too, but his arms were around you and he was still inside you.

You had no idea how long the two of you lazed there, but eventually Billy regained his strength.

You whimpered as he finally slid out of you then gathered you up in his arms.

Your own strength was long gone and it was not coming back. He carried you into the bathroom and you were too fucked out to even care he stayed. After he cleaned both of you up, he scooped you up again and set you on the bed. He found your favorite, softest long t-shirt to sleep in and tucked you in. In the next minute he was sliding under the blankets too and he hauled you against his chest.

"Alright love?" he murmured.

"Mmmmmm. Mmmhmmmm." You were nestled in his arms, his skin warm beneath you and your face pressed to his shoulder. You wanted to say thank you but you were pretty sure only a mumble of half-formed words came out. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back and you felt him nuzzle the top of your head only seconds before you were out.

You couldn't go to work the next day, much to Butcher's smug amusement.

~*~*~

thank you for reading 🥹 thank you for all the inspiration to write this ❤️

(post tags are not working for this so doing my best to figure out what the issue is, and tagged people instead, I’m so sorry bleh tumblr)

@chocolategiverzombie @kus-babygirl @jynx15 @cassiopeia-grimm @karlurbanism

@weallhaveadestiny @violent-darkness @norman-b @fenyxhawthorn @smallsadjellyfish

@butchersboobs @shirley-girly @bobabilbil @galaxyshifting @angelically-yours

@burntsaltsblog @multifandomqueen199032 @waerwena @rebelled-angel @spikycritter

karl urban masterlist

[marie-swriting]

Lucky - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Summary : Bradley comes home from a six months deployment and you two cannot stay away from each other.

Warnings : Minors please do not interact as this one shot has more sexual themes than usual, though there is no smut, fluff, marriage proposal, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.9k

French version

Song inspiration : So High School by Taylor Swift

“Class dismissed.” you state to your students who barely hide their joy. “Don’t forget your paper on Aristotle and Nicomachean Ethics for next Friday. You can send it by email or hand it to me in class, I don’t care, just don’t be late.”

You close your computer and start putting your stuff in one of your bags while saying goodbye to the students who are leaving the room. You answer a few questions before turning off everything and leaving the University as you’re finally on weekend.

You go to the parking lot for the professors while checking your phone. You hoped you’d found a text from Bradley who has been on deployment for the past six months but nothing. You sigh and hope he’ll call you tonight. You know he should come home soon yet you can’t wait to see him again, you miss him.

Once you arrive at your car, you open the back door and put your two bags on the seat. Focused on what you’re doing, you’re not aware of your surroundings until you hear a voice behind you.

“Excuse me, Miss, I have a question about today’s class-”

“Bradley!” you exclaim with a big smile while you turn to face him.

Without wasting a second, you run to him and jump in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Bradley catches you easily and holds you tight while smelling your perfume that he missed so much. You look up and passionately kiss Bradley. You run your hands through his hair, needing to make sure he’s really there. Bradley kisses you back with as much energy. 

“Get a room, you’re on University grounds!” 

Your colleague and friend’s voice Savannah interrupts your kiss. You look at her and see her teasing expression on her face. Bradley puts you down and takes your hand in his.

“Thank God, you’re finally back, she’s gonna leave me alone now.”

“Don’t worry about this, I’ll keep her busy.” Bradley replies to your colleagues with eyes full of innuendos.

“I wasn’t asking for all the details. See you Monday.” she laughs before leaving.

“See you Monday.” you say before turning back to Bradley. “I thought you were coming back in two days.”

“We finished early and I wanted to surprise you.” he says while pecking your lips.

“How did you come here?” you ask as you stare at his white and blue Hawaiian shirt, your favorite.

“Jake dropped me off. Savannah told me at what time you finished your day so I patiently waited for you, almost patiently.” 

“She knew?”

“How was I supposed to surprise you without an accomplice?” Bradley rhetorically questions with a smile.

“You’re lucky I love these kinds of surprises. Oh, no! There is nothing in the fridge.” you suddenly exclaim. “I wanted to go grocery shopping tomorrow so I could make your favorite meal. You’re messing all my plans up with your surprises!”

“We’ll eat something at the Hard Deck, I told the Squad we’ll be there tonight.” he reassures you while helping you to get in the driver side of the car.

“Oh, I thought we’d spend the night alone.” you say once Bradley is in the passenger seat.

“Don’t you worry,” he starts as he kisses your cheek, “I intend on spending the whole day with you in bed tomorrow, but first we have to be social. After that, you can do whatever you want to me.” he smoothly whispers in your ear.

“You pervert!” you yell, faking being offended and gently hitting his shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking about that. Okay, maybe I was but still!” you admit after he gave you a look. “I missed my boyfriend and I wanted to stay in his arms in an innocent way.”

“Innocent, sure, I believe you.”

Following his sentence, you roll your eyes but laugh nonetheless. Bradley turns on the radio while you drive out of the parking lot. He takes your right hand in his as the first notes of Great Balls Of Fire comes out of the car radio. Bradley doesn’t need to hear more to start singing and you quickly follow his lead. 

And at the Hard Deck, most of the people present sing along with Bradley while he’s at the piano. You can’t help but tenderly look at him as he’s being the life of the party. How you missed watching him having fun at the piano surrounded by his friends! You couldn’t have dreamed of a better way to start the weekend. 

After he made the whole Hard Deck dance and sing, you and the Squad go play darts while Jake puts some music on. Javy is the first one to play, he’s close to the bullseye. With a cocky look, Jake goes after him and does better than Javy. Meanwhile, you talk with Natasha and Bob while Bradley has his arm around your shoulders. He only leaves your side when it’s his turn. After Bradley, Reuben is next then, they inform you you have to play. At first, you refuse, knowing you suck at darts and yet, you end up accepting. Without any surprise, you shoot far from the bullseye. 

You all keep playing and you keep missing the bullseye. Annoyed, you ask Bradley to help you which he happily does. You put yourself in front of the target, Bradley behind you as he takes your hand in which you hold the dart and raises it while giving you indications in your ear.

“You know,” Jake starts, “if you wanted advice from a professional, you should have asked me, not birdbrain.”

“She just wants an excuse to be close to Rooster.” Coyote says with a teasing tone.

“My offer stays the same, I’m a better company.”

“Shut up, Bagman.”

Jake laughs at Bradley’s sentence, glad to know he got under his skin. Bradley stops paying attention to Jake and focuses on your body against his. Bradley takes advantage of this moment to put his free hand on your hips while guiding you, then you throw the dart and for the first time of the evening, you’re close to the bullseye. You let go of a happy scream before turning around and kissing Braldey to thank him.

“We got it, you’re in love, can we continue the game?”

You don’t pick up Hangman’s remark and go back to Natasha and Bob. Finally, you stop playing as you want to lose this victory so you keep talking to your two friends. When Bradley leaves you alone one more time to play, you go to the bathroom.

Once you leave the stall, you wash your hands and when you look up to the mirror, you’re startled as you find Bradley behind you.

“You idiot, you scared me!”

“I was looking for you.”

“I went to pee, is it illegal?” you joke.

After drying your hands, you turn around to face your boyfriend; without wasting another second, he walks to you and puts his hands on your hips before pressing his lips on yours, you quickly respond to his kiss. Bradley gets you closer to him while you wrap your arms around his neck. Bradley’s tongue finds its way to yours and for a moment, you forget where you are. Bradley puts you next to the sink while his lips go from your mouth to your neck and you wrap your legs around his waist; you try to stifle your moan against Bradley’s shoulder.

“Bradley, we should stop.” you say without any conviction. “The others are just outside the door,” you add as he kisses your lips before going back to your neck again, “and anyone could walk in.”

“As if you want me to stop.”

“Of course, I don’t want you to stop.”

“I don’t see the problem, then. I can be quick.” Bradley affirms with a cocky smile.

His kisses go from your neck to your collarbone while his hand leaves your hip and slowly goes down to your thigh. Reluctantly, you take his hand and Bradley looks up.

“Earlier you were disappointed we wouldn’t be alone and now you’re stopping me. I’m confused.” he exclaims, laughing and frustrated. 

“We haven’t seen each other in six months, we are not having a quickie in the Hard Deck’s bathrooms.”

“What do you want me to do? I want you.”

“Take me to bed or lose me forever, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“No need to tell me twice. I’m closing our tab, go grab your purse.”

With a big smile on your face, you leave the bathroom and go find your friend to grab your stuff.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asks. 

“Braldey is tired, we’re heading home.”

“Tired, Bradshaw?” Natasha laughs as soon as she sees him coming and taking your hand.

“Freaking tired, yeah. See you guys.” He says while he leads you to the exit.

“Use protection, I’m too young to be a godfather!”

Bradley gives Jake the finger following his sentence while you leave the Hard Deck, laughing like two teenagers. It is safe to say, it’s the first time you’ve gone home from the bar that fast.

After spending a whole day on your own at your house, you decided it was time to be social again. After all, Natasha is leaving for a deployment in a week so you want to make the most of it while everyone is here. 

Sunday afternoon, you’re all at the beach. Guys are playing dogfight beach football while you and Natasha are laying on your towels, sunbathing and enjoying the view; and by enjoying the view, it means you are staring at your shirtless boyfriend as he throws the ball at his friends.

“Please, stop it.” Natasha sighs.

“What?”

“You may have your sunglasses on but I can still tell your eyefucking Rooster.”

“Is it a crime to check out my boyfriend?”

“When you’re next to your single friend, yes.”

“I’ll try to stop, I can’t promise you anything, though.”

“You’re disgustingly cute together.” she states before marking a pause. “I’m glad Bradley found you.” your friend sincerely affirms.

“I’m lucky I found him.”

“You know, before meeting you, Bradley didn’t really believe in love. I mean, he believed in it, just not for him. He’s always idealised his parents and he thought what they had was rare so he never worked hard on his relationships. Why be in a relationship if he can never have what they had? Then, he met you and everything changed. I had never seen him this happy before.”

“He never told me that.” you say with a bittersweet smile. “I had never been this happy before him either, you know. I’m not saying I wasn’t happy in my past relationships, I mean the ones that went well, but they have nothing to do with what I have with Bradley. With him, it’s easy, full of passion and love.” you explain, briefly looking at Rooster. “Every time I look at him, I just feel… so high school, as if I was a teenager having a crush for the first time, though I never experienced that, I had my first boyfriend at nineteen. I know, it’s stupid, we’re in our thirties, we’re not kids anymore but I never thought I could find a relationship that pure. For the first time, imagining a future with someone is simple. No matter which one it is, married or not, kids or not, as long as we’re together, I’m okay with it.”

“We like to tease you a lot, but we genuinely hope you two will last.” Natasha smiles before looking ahead of her. “Well, speaking of the devil, your prince charming is coming.”

Bradley trots around to you, his sunglasses on and his body glowing in sweat. The minute he’s in front of you, Bradley gets down and pecks your lips. He sits on the sand, next to your legs. 

“So, did you win?” you ask him.

“Look at Hangman and you’ll have your answer.”

Knowing Jake wasn’t in his team and that you can hear the blond man screaming they cheated, you easily understand Bradley’s team won.

“I deserve a hug.” Bradley states, getting closer to you.

In an instant, you put your hand against his torso and push him away.

“No way, you’re sweating too much. Go for a swim and then come back.”

“Alright, Ma’am.”

Without a warning, Bradley picks you up and runs to the water while you protest. You ask him to put you down while you both get in the ocean. You hold onto him as best as you can, ignoring Bradley’s sweat you criticised a few seconds earlier. 

“I don’t want to wet my hair.” you inform, hoping he’ll leave you alone.

“I’ll do your hair routine, promise.”

“I don’t care, you better not drop me.” you jokingly threaten.

At first, Bradley pretends he’s letting you go before diving in the water with you. The second you get your head out of the water, you splash Bradley, pretending to be mad.

“War is on, Bradshaw.”

While you keep laughing, you try to get your revenge by making Bradley fall in the water. In the end, you spend the remainder of the afternoon swimming and bickering. As promised, in the evening, Bradley does your full hair routine to make amends.

During the week, when you have some free time, you stay with Bradley at your place to watch American Pie. You have your back against his torso as you both lay on the couch. This movie which is more of an erotic comedy than a romantic one actually means a lot for you two. You shared your first kiss while watching the first American Pie movie. 

Before that moment, you had gone on two dates, however none of you had made the first move yet. For your third date, you invited Bradley at your old apartment and you decided to watch this movie as you hadn’t seen him in a few years. On the couch, you were close but not too much. As John was using the word ‘MILF’ to describe Stifler’s mom on screen, you made a joke which made Bradley laugh and without waiting any longer, he kissed you. 

That was three years ago and to this day, it’s a memory you still cherish; so it’s no surprise American Pie became your movie. As you get closer to the iconic scene with John, Bradley holds you tighter to him before turning the volume down a little bit, catching your attention.

“I still remember how nervous I was before kissing you. I think I never was that anxious to kiss a girl before.”

“Was I that scary?” you joke.

“You were too good for me, still are. I can’t believe you want me. You know, I also remember the first time I saw you.”

“When I was at the Hard Deck with Savannah.” you state, fondly thinking back to that moment.

“No, at the beach.” Bradley corrects, making your frown.

“What are you talking about? We met at the Hard Deck on a Friday night. I remember it perfectly.”

“We talked for the first time at the Hard Deck, but I saw you for the first time before that.”

“I’d remember if we had met before.”

“It was about two weeks before that night at the Hard Deck.” he explains with a smile. “You were at the beach, reading Symposium by Plato in Ancient Greek. You caught my attention instantly. It’s not everyday you find someone reading in Greek, especially Ancient Greek. At one point, you looked up, you probably were waiting for Savannah and as soon as I saw your face, I was caught off guard, I had never seen someone that beautiful before. I wanted to talk to you but I got a call from TopGun to deal with some paperwork and when I came back, you weren’t there anymore so as soon as I saw you again at the Hard Deck, I didn’t waste another second.”

“You never told me that.”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

“What do you mean?” you ask as Bradley stands up from the couch and invites you to do the same. “What are you doing?”

“The first time I saw you, I knew I had to talk to you,” Bradley nervously starts, “And like I just told you, I had missed my chance the first time and I got lucky because I saw you a second time and that’s when I finally met you. At that moment, I didn’t know how much you’d matter to me, I knew one thing, though, I had to get to know you and that’s what I did. And I never regretted this once. We’ve been together for three years and I want more.” he says while putting one knee down and taking a jewellery box out of his pocket. “So, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“My God, yes! Of course, I want to be your wife.” you exclaim, throwing yourself in his arms and kissing him.

The second you break the kiss, Bradley starts breathing normally again and he takes the ring out of the box before putting it on your finger. As you look at the ring more carefully, you recognize it. You saw it in several pictures, it’s his mom’s. Bradley didn’t hesitate a second before choosing this ring to propose. He always told himself if he was lucky enough to find half of the love his parents had, then he’d use his mom’s ring. And when you came into his life, you proved to him how lucky he was because with you, he found a love as extraordinary as Nick and Carol’s, if not more.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

[luvhughes43]

birthday | quinn hughes

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

request: can you write an angsty one for quinn where he forgets your birthday because he’s busy with hockey and you fight about it and then you give him the silent treatment the next day and he tries to make it up it up you 

note: i changed it a little bit! 

word count: 1.2k words

you waited all day with baited breath, wondering when your boyfriend of three years would acknowledge your birthday. usually, depending on both of your work schedules, quinn would take you to your favourite cafe for breakfast and then later in the day he would cook one of your favourite dishes for dinner. In between meals, you’d spend the day doing whatever you wanted, which usually just meant going for a walk and maybe to the mall.

you woke up early and got yourself dressed and ready for the day. quinn was already gone to the gym which wasn’t unusual, so you scrolled through your emails while you waited for him to come home. 

quinn didn't come home till noon. 

“hey babe,” quinn greeted you quickly, pecking your cheek before he rushed into your shared bedroom. you swivel around on the bar stool you were sitting on, eyes following quinn as he jogged from your bedroom and into the bathroom. 

when he reemerged from the room, bag in hand, you frown. “what are you doing?”

“the guys are going to this new place.. some new gym downtown”

“oh,” you deflate, “weren’t you just at the gym tho?” 

“yeah but babe, this one has an ice bath!” quinn explains enthusiastically, as if the addition of an ice bath should outweigh the excitement that was your 24th birthday. 

“right…” 

“we're not working out or anything. just checking the place out. It's good for team building” he adds.

you stare blankly at him, wishing that this is just some elaborate joke and that he has a plan for your birthday. 

“right well, i’ll see you later!” quinn flashes a quick smile as he leans down to kiss your cheek again. 

“bye…?” 

quinny: going out for dinner! so sorry we didn't get to spend any time together today. wanna do dinner tomorrow night?

quinny: the teams really getting on good! I think we’ve got a close group here

it was 6pm, you were alone, and in approximately 10 minutes you would officially be 24. how great is this? you thought sarcastically. you were about to be 24, in a too nice apartment, with a boyfriend who completely forgot about you. 

you pulled your cookies out of the oven, dropping the tray on top of the stove with a clatter. tears sprung to your eyes as you pulled out a small pack of glittering candles. you didn't even get an invite to quinns dinner tonight. 

you watched your candles go out slowly while you imagine how you should've spent the day. Happy birthday to me… 

“hey baby, what did you do all day?” quinn asked as he slipped into bed next to you. his alarm clock had blinded you with the time, 11:24, lit up in a cutting shade of red. he tried to hold your gaze, but you turned over. he had actually forgotten.  

quinn grabbed at your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. “I’m tired,” you whispered through the ball in your throat. if quinn talked about his day, you might actually cry.

“what's wrong?” quinn asked, genuinely concerned. he sat up in bed, reaching over and flicking his lamp on. 

“I’m not talking about this tonight”

“well, no. if you're going to say something then say it. what did i do wrong this time?” you rolled around to face him just as he finished his sentence with an eyeroll. 

“excuse me?” you were seeing red. 

“just tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. did i leave a sock on the floor?” he jokes, quickly surveying the room and noticing that you cleaned earlier. 

you sat up in bed. “you're such an asshole! you know that right?” 

“woah! no need to get angry! i just wanted to go to bed. Its late.” 

“yeah well, i wanted to celebrate my birthday with my boyfriend today so i guess we don't always get what we want, huh?” your voice is venomous as you climb out of bed. you rip your pillow off the bed with every intention to sleep in the guest room. 

quinns shocked expression was almost comical. his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly agape as he finally realized what was bothering you. with how busy his new schedule was due to being captain, he had completely forgotten about you.

“y/n don't go! I’m so sorry!” quinn kicks the comforter away from him as follows you down the hallway. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now,”

“baby, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget-” quinn started but you abruptly cut him off. 

“i don't want to hear it! I waited for you all day! I shouldn't have to remind you when my birthday is! We talked about it literally last week!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you!” quinns words fell on deaf ears as you slammed the guest bedroom door in his face. 

as soon as the door was locked, you let all your emotions of the day out. your sad uber eats delivery, raw cookies, the moping around… quinn. 

quinn stood on the other side of the door, face in between his hands as he listened to you cry. 

the next morning, quinn was on good boyfriend behaviour. he had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, made you breakfast, and had a birthday card waiting at the table for you. 

you rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you made your way into the kitchen. you had gotten absolutely no sleep last night, and you were still upset at quinn. 

quinn watched you in silence as he set the last piece of french toast in his pan. you glanced up at him before averting your gaze towards your gifts. 

To Y/n, 

Happy 24th Birthday. I love you beyond words. 

Quinn

“Quinn,” you sighed as you set the card back on the table. 

“It’s a shitty card I know,” you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips . “I’m so sorry. I called in sick today.. we can do something or you can do whatever, its up to you! I just really want you to know that i’m sorry” he sets the fresh piece of french toast onto a plate before sliding it over to you. 

“I know you're sorry,” you say, stepping over and into quinns open arms. you stand there for a minute, quinn softly rubbing your back while you lay your head on his shoulder. “I just felt really awful”

quinn hums to acknowledge what you were saying. “I know. I don't know what was wrong with me”

“you have new responsibilities q. you're going to be busy with the team” you put his thoughts into words and it was his time to sigh. 

“Still. There’s no excuse” quinn hugs you tighter. “I love you”

“I love you too” you whisper into the side of his neck, arms tightening around him. 

It wasn't okay that he had forgotten, but at least he was making an effort to fix it.

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter 1

summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.2K

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)

AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.

You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.

So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet. 

A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.

The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight—  and expense off of your shoulders. 

You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.

You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it. 

It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.

But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory. 

In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.

You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money. 

You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.

You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer. 

Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop. 

The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell. 

"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here". 

You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.

Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college. 

Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was. 

Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust. 

"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up. 

Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided. 

You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning". 

You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?". 

You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude". 

He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".  

You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.

You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double. 

Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift. 

You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one. 

Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you. 

You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want. 

It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material. 

With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.

Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk. 

You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight. 

The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.

He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.  

The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers". 

He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on". 

Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed. 

Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester". 

You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips. 

"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you. 

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture. 

Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester. 

[satorustyles]

you can't fall asleep (a kento nanami one shot)

a/n: a nanami version of this one shot! thank you to everyone who liked my first post, there's more to come! <3 -bear

pairing: nanami x fem!reader

warnings: implied smut at the end, but mostly just pure fluff

word count: 1,750

gojo version here!

sukuna version here!

Despite Kento’s busy schedule, he was always the last to fall asleep. He would stay up longer finishing paperwork or answering emails, and there would always be a bottle of beer next to him to help him ease his stress. Not only was he a full-time worker, but he was just recently promoted to a higher position. Which meant higher pay. Longer nights.

Ever since he got the promotion he’s been staying up longer than his usual bedtime, signing papers all while checking his laptop for emails. After dinner, you were almost invisible to him, with his attention solely on his remaining work and you had to wait for your time until he was finished–which was around eleven late in the evening.

“You should go ahead, baby.” He had told you, giving you an apologetic kiss on the lips. He still wore the same suit that he had on, minus the coat and the tie. He couldn’t fall asleep knowing he had unread emails and unchecked paperwork.

And you tried to sleep without him, you really did. But the bed was colder and quieter without him, without his strong arms wrapped around your smaller body and having his warm breath tickling your neck, plus the occasional, sleepy kisses you would get when you were close to falling asleep.

You missed cuddling with Kento before bedtime. You missed waking up to his kisses and groggily telling you how much he loves you and would promise to spend the rest of the evening with you, however you wanted.

But the promotion took him away from you.

You sighed frustratedly as you left your bed, padding towards the kitchen where he was still situated on the island counter, faced with piles of paperwork and a bottle of beer. The light from his laptop screen illuminated his tired features, dark circles underneath his eyes, and his blonde hair in a messy state.

“Nami,” You whined, calling him by the nickname you gave him that he immediately loved to hear. His head was quick to snap in your direction. “S’too much work. Come to bed with me.”

He smiled tiredly at you, and your heart ached at the sight of him. You hated how hard he worked every day, barely getting enough rest that he deserved. Whenever you asked him to take a break, he would shake his head and tell you that he was doing this for the both of you. So he could provide for your own needs as well.

And you hated that you couldn’t help him yet. You were still in school, and the least you could do was wake up before him and prepare his breakfast and make him dinner when the evening comes. But you knew that wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He apologized as he stretched his arm out for you, asking you to come to him. “I just have to finish this, okay? I’m almost done.”

You walked towards him and he looked up at your sleepy face, smiling at how adorable you looked. “Gimme a kiss,” He whispered.

You shook your head. “Not until you get in bed with me, Nami. You can just finish that tomorrow.”

He sighed as he stared back at the papers in front of him, the light coming from his laptop screen already straining his eyes. You were right. This was already too much.

“C’mere.” He told you as he pulled you towards his lap and you obliged. You straddled his legs, facing him, while he did his best to clean up his mess and shut off his pc while ensuring you didn’t fall from his lap. “Thank you for reminding me, angel. If you didn’t come out for me I would have stayed for another hour.”

“You’re overworking yourself. This is too much work, even for someone who was just given a promotion. You’re like a working intern who was given all the heavy load.” You were angry. Not at your boyfriend, but at the fact that his company promoted him to a better position but the work given was somehow a downgrade. It was paperwork and meetings all over again. “I mean, I’m not one to judge, and I certainly have no clue what your responsibilities are, but I know better that you shouldn’t be working way past your eight-hour shift. That’s so unfair.”

Kento sighed and you looked up, worried that your words had upset him. But, you were surprised to see him smiling fondly at you.

“I agree. I really was planning on talking to the supervisors about this. Maybe ask if I could get an assistant so that I could have someone divide the workload.” He replied just as his hands held your waist and pulled you closer to him, keeping you from slipping down his khaki pants.

“I miss falling asleep next to you.” You sighed as you stared up at his tired eyes.

“I know, baby.” He cooed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I know you couldn’t fall asleep without someone next to you. I’m sorry. But you’re right, this is unfair.”

His hand rested against your back and pushed you down to his chest, keeping you there as his other hand grabbed his phone from the counter and began dialing someone.

“Who are you calling?” You questioned, struggling to move your head so you could look up at him since his hand was still on your back, his grip strong as he kept you from moving so much.

“Shh, this will be quick love.” He muttered before kissing your forehead quickly. And so you remained silent. You loved how small you felt in Kento’s hold, his strong arms wrapped around you, feeling the way his chest would rise and fall with every breath he took, inhaling the faint smell of perfume, sweat, and alcohol, and how his hand would slowly start rubbing circles behind your back…

You were slowly dozing off.

“Mr. Yamato, good evening,” Kento spoke, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and you could feel the way it vibrated against your head. “Yes, I am aware of the time. I just wanted to call and let you know that I’ll be taking the day off tomorrow.”

Your ears perked up. He’s asking for a day-off? So unlike him.

“With that, I would also like to discuss further a possible assistant you could give me. I know you trust me enough with the position you have bestowed upon me, but it has been taking too much of my free time and my wife doesn’t like how I still work even when I’m at home.”

Your heart jumped. My wife?? His wife? He called you his wife??

You squirmed underneath his hold but his grip was tighter around you, as if silently asking you to stay put.

“Ah yes, of course. We’ll discuss this further the day after tomorrow. Thank you so much, Mr. Yamato. Have a good night.” He then hung up and threw his phone on the counter.

“Now, where were we?” He sighed in relief, his eyes down at you with a cheeky smile and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“You asked for a day off?”

“Why, yes of course.” He replied nonchalantly, his hands on your sides keeping you steady as you moved to sit up and face him properly. “I told you, you were right. My work was getting too much. And the day off would be a quick recovery for me to get more sleep and spend the rest of the day with you.”

You couldn’t even bother to hide the smile on your face as you excitedly leaned in to kiss your boyfriend square on the lips, catching him off-guard but eventually relaxing with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah? Sounds good, right? A day off with my baby girl.” Kento mumbled against your lips, sighing contentedly. “We’ll sleep in, just order takeout for lunch, and you’ll give me cuddles in the afternoon, and maybe have some more fun…”

His kisses began going downwards as his words trailed off, peppering your throat and collarbone with wet kisses and you sighed at the feel of his tongue tickling your skin. Beneath you, you could feel something hard subtly poking your core. 

You knew Kento was getting needy. It’s been a week since you had sex, and there was his promotion to thank for it. You tried your best to avert his attention, even just for an hour, because you knew you could at least help him with his stress just a little. But he was always adamant about finishing his work.

“I’m so sorry I never got to spend more time with you, y/n.” He sighed, letting his forehead rest against your shoulder. “I let this promotion get the best of me. I never even bothered considering that you would need me, too.”

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and rubbed his back soothingly. “Nothing to be sorry for, Nami. You were just doing your best. I’m just glad you could at least have a day off to yourself and finally talk with your boss about getting an assistant. I’ve been telling you that since Monday,” You told him and he sighed on your shoulder once again, his arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you closer to him, as if you would suddenly disappear from him if he loosened his grip.

He suddenly lifted his head, looking you straight in the eyes. Your heart hammered against his chest at the sudden action and the way his brown eyes stared back at you intensely.

“This time, I’ll be making it up to you.” He growled and you gasped at the sudden change of his demeanor. Before you could reply, his lips were on yours once again, his kisses suddenly becoming needier and hungrier as he gripped your thighs and pulled you up with him, taking you to your shared bedroom.

“Kento…” You sighed against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep yourself from falling from his hold.

“Shhh, let me take care of you this time, angel.” He muttered when you both finally reached your bedroom. He dropped you on the bed with a soft thud and he was immediately on top of you, capturing your wrists and trapping them above your head. 

“Let Nami make it up to you for those days when he's been busy.” He then gripped your lounge shorts and pulled them downwards, and you knew that you weren’t getting any sleep tonight at all.

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: September 29, 2024 ☀️

Sunday was wayyyy more productive than I had initially planned, and I still had taken a nap! I love those kinds of days so much!

What I Accomplished ☕️

worked a ~7hour shift (on a station I have never run before for a full shift, and dare I say I did wonderfully) 🍔

took an 1.5hour nap

completed and aubmitted my 2 pre lab assignments for chem

completed and submitted my weekly quiz for chem (got a 16/20, so I only missed 2 questions)

completed my part 1 and part 2 assignments for intro to business

completed my email introduction assignment for intro to business

took some psyc textbook notes

made some delicious boiled potstickers as a late night snack

video called my boyfriend

Random Stuff 🍄

didn't study japanese but am definitely going to create a consistent study routine now that I found a teacher I like on italki for Japanese

need to fill out my planner for the month cause I have so much that I forgot to put in there

I took the "second skin" off my tattoo cause it was kinda gross and dang it does my tattoo itch. I know that means it's healing but ughhhh, I hate the itching

I forgot to get my Netflix subscription back. my boyfriend and I are starting weekly video call date nights (so like watching a movie or TV show together over video call) and Netflix is the easiest so I gots to get it again

need to rewrite my budget to hopefully fit monthly payments for a Mac into my budget

on that note, need to research what MacBook I want to purchase when I get paid next because I think it'd be more beneficial to use for school instead of my current chromebook (especially since I have an Ipad)

gotta make time to do some adulting tasks this week

Stuff For Tomorrow, September 30th 📧

email my Dietetic mentor about my availability this week

fill out my planner with upcoming things

study for the TEAS Exam

study japanese

take accounting notes for chapter 7

finish psyc chapter 4, 5 and 6 notes

get chem notes from classmate for missed Wednesday class

workout

skincare AM + PM

guided journal AM + PM

do laundry

maybe take a nap??? before my lab???

take out bathroom trash + maybe kitchen trash if roommates don't do it

wash dishes

Gonna be a great week, i just know it. I'm finally locking in and getting shit done as it should be <3

til next time lovelies 🩷

[lipglossanon]

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙ ███████▒▒▒ 70%

part i

office exec!Leon S. Kennedy x personal assistant fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dirty talk, kissing, nipple/breast play, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie

Actually looked over with a second pair of eyes by the ever lovely @rex122303 ✌️ you have my unwavering devotion 🙇‍♀️

title from You're All I’ve Got Tonight by The Cars

⋘ 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢��𝐠…⋙ ████████ 100%

You’ve been giving Leon the cold shoulder since that scandalous night in his office. You know it’s not his fault he was suddenly called up by the CEO to handle some business altercation out of state. 

But he could have called you or left a message or, hell, he could have emailed you. So when he shows up a week later, you’re short and to the point, never staying late and always disappearing if it looks like you’ll be alone with him. 

If he’s frustrated with you, you don’t really care (you do, but you’ll never admit it). He’s still cordial, still touchy feely when he can get away with it, like when brushing past you in the boardroom, but you stay firmly polite even if his touch makes you press your thighs together. 

It all comes to a head a few weeks later when an overnight trip to a business summit’s announced for the small team under Leon’s advisement. This small team also includes you, much to your chagrin. So you prep and plan, making sure all the emails are filled with the correct dossiers and agendas for each individual person and marking off the calendar accordingly. 

Leon tries to corner you time and again as you get everything setup, but you’re able to duck out of it every single time. You know it’s not very mature of you to avoid him, but you still feel embarrassed about the reaction you had when he ghosted you, even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. Your pride took one hit already, so now you’re just trying to avoid another. 

The date for the summit arrives far too quickly and you’re all holed up in the rental van to drive out of the city to the nearby retreat that’s hosting. You make small talk with Ark, a really sweet guy who works in IT. He’s friendly without being overbearing so the drive passes by comfortably although not quickly. 

Arriving at the retreat, everyone piles out of the van, grabs their luggage, and makes their way to the front desk. Bad luck on your part lands you at the end of the line standing next to Leon. Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to chat you up or anything, just scrolling on his phone with a little furrow between his brows. You stare ahead watching as the rest of the team grab their room keys and disappear further into the foyer.  

“Hi there and welcome! Checking in?”

The perky brunette behind the desk smiles at you, making you smile back, but before you open your mouth Leon steps in front of you. 

“Hi! Checking in for Kennedy.”

Your smile tightens as you side step so you’re standing a little behind Leon now. The lady sends you a quick sympathetic look as she types in his name. 

“You’re all set, sir,” she hands him a keycard, “if you need anything whatsoever please don’t hesitate to contact the front desk or the concierge. Please have a wonderful stay!”

She turns to you and repeats the same greeting making you internally wince in sympathy as she types in your information. Her smile falters and eventually drops into a confused frown. 

“I’m terribly sorry, but it seems like your party has all checked in and there are no more rooms available,” she types for a few more seconds before turning back to you with an apologetic smile, “and seeing as we’re fully booked, you can check and see if one of your colleagues—“

“She can room with me,” Leon offers flippantly, giving the brunette another smile, before turning back to his phone, “it’s not a big deal.”

She turns to you, eyebrows raised in question and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’ll be fine,” you plaster a fake smile on and look over at Leon, “I appreciate it, Mr. Kennedy.”

He gives you a smarmy little grin, “Not a problem, madam secretary.”

You roll your eyes at him and turn back in time to grab the spare keycard. 

The young woman rattles off the same spiel as you grab your luggage, “If you need anything whatsoever please don’t hesitate to contact the front desk or the concierge. Please have a wonderful stay!”

You follow Leon through the foyer and over to the elevators, thanking your lucky stars no one from your office will actually see that you’re bunking with the boss. Butterflies threaten to flutter in your chest but you tamp them down, not letting yourself get swept away like last time. 

Leon lets you stew in your own thoughts as you enter the tenth floor, leading you down the hall to the room you’ll be sharing. He unlocks the door and holds it open, gesturing for you to enter first. You nod and roll your luggage case in behind you only to stop dead in the little hallway into the room. 

“There’s just one bed,” you blurt out, disbelief sweeping over you. 

Leon walks up next to you, letting the door swing shut. 

“Oh wow, that’s really unfortunate,” he shrugs, sounding a little too blasé. 

You squint at his side profile, “I’ll see if they can send in a roller bed—“

Leon scoffs, “Look it’s a king size bed, we can share like civilized adults.”

You purse your lips, “Mmhmm, and it’s not just awfully convenient we ran out of rooms for everyone and now we just happen to have to share a bed?”

Leon grins at you, the one that always makes those damn butterflies flutter.

“Just really weird co-winky-dinks,” his grin widens when you fight the smile wanting to slip out, instead giving him another eye roll. 

“Okay,” you throw your hands up with a sigh, “it’s only a short weekend trip.”

One of the reasons you’ve been avoiding Leon is it’s so easy to slip into the comfortable back and forth you’ve already built up. So it’s next to no time before he’s already weaseled a laugh out of you with his shitty one liner jokes. You’re a little nervous now that you’re kinda back on friendly terms, especially after you explained yourself. 

Now, he’s ordering room service for you both while you jump in the shower, letting yourself spend some extra time on shaving and primping before leaving the bathroom. Not for any ulterior motives or anything you think to yourself as you finish putting on your moisturizer. 

When you come out of the bathroom, Leon slips past you and shuts the door. You see that he hasn’t eaten yet, deciding to wait on you to finish up, which makes you feel warm and fuzzy at the thoughtful gesture. So you wait in turn, drinking some water as you channel surf, settling on a show about an elderly mystery writer who always stumbles upon a murder that needs solving. 

You’re pretty engrossed with J.B. Fletcher’s hunt for the killer, but when Leon steps out of the bathroom he draws all of your attention. His face is obscured as he dries his hair with a towel, leaving you to ogle his bare chest and toned stomach with his low slung sweats sitting on his hips, his happy trail catching your eye last. 

You make sure to be looking away by the time he drops the towel around his shoulders. 

“You should’ve went ahead,” he nudges your side, sitting down next to you on the bed. 

“Eh, just thought I’d wait,” you smile at him, nudging him back as he grabs one of the food containers. 

You grab another container and you both watch the rest of the show as you eat a late dinner. After tossing the trash away, you brush your teeth side by side at the double sinks, and find your way into bed. 

After settling underneath the blankets, Leon rolls over and props his head up on his palm. 

“So no goodnight kiss?” 

You roll over to mirror him, eyes taking in his half smile and damp fringe. 

“What makes you think you should get a goodnight kiss?” 

“Lots of reasons,” his hands shoot out to grab your waist, yanking you into his body. 

“I think you owe me a lot of making up, honey,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to your cheek. 

One heated kiss leads to another and before you know it—

“Oh god,” you whine, grinding slowly against Leon. 

His cock is trapped in your panties, rubbing all along your dripping slit as he ruts against your cunt. His back rests against the headboard of the hotel room bed with you straddling his lap. 

You’ve been like this for an hour already; his lap and your thighs are soaked in slick and precum. 

“S’good,” he mutters under his breath, dilated eyes watching your tits jiggle, “wanna stay like this for the rest of the weekend.”

Goosebumps trail down your arms as you shiver, body completely bare except for your panties. 

“What about the presentation, sir? The actual summit?”

Leon grins lazily, dragging his eyes up to your face, “What about’em? I’m just trying to hump this little pussy.”

You whimper and rock against him harder.

The grin on his face widens, “Yeah, you like it too, like my fat cock rubbing all over this soaked cunt.”

“Leon,” your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes clenched shut.

“I wanna slide it in, but this feels too good,” he grunts, feeling your clit catch on the tip of his dick, “c’mere and let me suck on those tits, know you like that.”

You rock forward, pressing your chest out as his mouth leans up to suck on your hard nipples. He groans low in his chest as his lips and tongue work one hard bud while his fingers tweak and pinch the other. Your hips give short little thrusts as sharp bolts of arousal buzz in your clit. 

Sloppy sounds of sucking fill the room along with your pants and whines as Leon lathes your breasts with his attention. 

“Leon I want it, want your cock in me, please,” you gasp out as he bites your nipple and runs his tongue across it over and over until you’re squirming against him. 

“Think you deserve it?” he kisses across your breasts, teeth nipping at the skin as he swaps to the other nipple.  

“Please, want it, I’m so empty,” you whine.

“You've been ignoring me, honey,” he mockingly pouts up at you, lips swollen and hair messy, “outright avoiding me, I’d say.”

“You were mean,” you whine and he pinches your nipples hard making you buck against him.

“I’m being sweet now, aren’t I?” he grunts, sliding his fat cock into your pussy making you squeal from the stretch.

He’s so much bigger than you remember, making your back bow, head tipped back and mouth open, panting while he bullies his dick deeper and deeper into your pussy until he’s bottoming out.

He shushes you as you sink down on his dick with a low cry, “Such a good girl for me. Damn, missed this tight little pussy.”

You shove your breasts into his face making him growl, hands tightening on your hips, sinking you fully down on his cock. Leon’s mouth hotly kisses across your tits, sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. Groaning, he suckles your nipples eagerly until you’re bouncing on his dick. 

You let your hands sink into his soft hair, rocking your hips down hard onto his lap. Mewling, you tug on the silky strands as Leon’s tongue laps across your swollen nipples making you squirm. His hands move up to your waist as he humps your hot wet pussy, burying his cock deep in your throbbing cunt.

Feeling over sensitive, you try to pull his head away from your chest but he only groans, suckling your hard bud deeper into his mouth. His cock kicks and throbs as you slump forward, smooshing your tits into his face. 

“Leon, they’re g’nna be so sore,” you gasp as he nips at the swell of your breasts before pulling away. 

“But you like it, squeezing down on me so tight,” he grins, shaking the hair from his face as he tilts his head up, “now kiss me, sweetheart.”

You whine in the back of your throat and drop your mouth down on his. You feel as Leon scrapes his teeth against your bottom lip. He moans, licking into your mouth, tongue running along yours teasingly. 

He tugs you closer and closer, the kisses becoming more sloppy with spit dripping past your swollen lips. He chuckles when your fingers drop from his hair to cup the back of his head, pulling him forward til there’s no space between you. 

Pulling away for a breath, Leon just tugs you back in for another messy kiss, his hot tongue licking into you again and again.

“Been driving me up the wall, wanted to talk to you so bad,” he lets his head fall back to rest against the headboard as you grind dirtily against him, “had the best sex of my life and when I came back you pretended I didn’t even exist, honey.”

“‘m sorry, sir,” you whimper, eyes fluttering as his cock grinds just right against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy, “just got into my own head.”

“S’okay,” he coos up at you, letting one of his hands drop down and tease your swollen clit, “just gonna let this sweet pussy milk a nice thick load outta me.”

“Yeah, yeah, gonna milk your cock so good,” you slur, arching your back so your breasts brush against his mouth. 

He snarls and bites at your soft tits, “That’s it, squeeze my cock.”

You whine, body jerking as he pinches and rubs your pudgy clit, sucking each of your nipples between his teeth to run his tongue across them. The coil in your belly’s winding tighter and tighter as Leon teases your nipples and clit at the same time. 

“Oh,” you gasp out, “g’nna cum, Leon—“

A low cry spills from your mouth as you clamp down on Leon’s dick, pussy walls fluttering and milking his throbbing cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“So sexy,” Leon’s hips thrust up into your squelching pussy, “so fucking sexy. Gonna make me cum, baby. Y’ready?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moan, digging your nails into his chest making him curse under his breath and bury his cock into your sopping wet hole. 

You feel rope after rope of hot, sticky cum spurt inside your cunt, stuffing you so full that it leaks out around his throbbing cock. 

“Beautiful,” he places open mouthed kisses across your clavicle up to your neck, letting his tongue tease across your skin, “such a good girl for me.”

You sigh, feeling blissed out and utterly satisfied. He tugs your head down to kiss you softly at the corner of your mouth.  

“If you want, just relax and I’ll bring a cloth in to clean you up.”

You smile at him sleepily, “Wanna snuggle.”

He returns your sleepy smile with a small one of his own, “You got it, sweetheart.” 

[everybodyhatesmiddleschool]

It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

[k-howlett]

H(ear)tline Prologue | Bruce Wayne [Batman] xF!Angel:reader

TW: Possible religious insensitivity, Fallen Angel, Canon-breaking OOC, eventual smut(not in this specific installment)

Rating: Gender Specific (Female Reader), Eventual Smut (Teen+/mature), SFW (Prologue), eventual fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for your continued patience! I am unfortunately knee deep in moving. Breaking and Entering is on Hiatus at the moment because of my inability to appeal a report (I've been too busy to check my email and missed the 24 hour deadline. Thank you so much(/s) to whoever FALSELY reported my artistry and now cost me hours of setbacks. I don't know if I can repost and change the tag but I did file a complaint with tumblr admin and am awaiting a resolution), in the mean time, please enjoy this concept I came up with half-awake whilst packing boxes!

With love and healing,

-Lark

𓂋

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce Wayne was not one for religion. If there was a God, the creator must’ve had a particular disdain for Gotham City and everything in it. The place was a living hell, overrun with the likes of Scarecrow, Bane, Joker, Penguin—an endless parade of villains. It felt as though God had abandoned him, leaving the city to rot.

When a group of young people stopped him on the street, offering free Bibles, Bruce briefly considered lashing out, tearing into their beliefs with the cynicism that years in Gotham had sharpened. But he held back. Despite his doubts, he couldn’t deny the comfort religion provided to those who believed. He recalled attending Sunday school as a child, his mother’s gentle voice praising the beauty of the world around them, her unshakeable faith even in the face of Gotham’s darkness. In her final moments, she had reached out to God. Who was he to strip these kids of that same hope?

Wordlessly, he accepted the leather-bound Bible. It was crafted with care, though the materials were clearly cheap—the gold lettering was already flaking. He considered tossing it when he got home, or maybe donating it to a shelter. He might not believe in God, but he knew that his own moral compass had been shaped by something greater than himself. Not everyone had that foundation; maybe some people really did need saving.

He sighed as he carried the Bible to his office. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think he’d found religion. He had a carefully curated, morally ambiguous playboy persona to maintain. What if the media thought he was turning over a new leaf? What if they took it as a sign he was ready to settle down? The thought of more women throwing themselves at him—especially devout ones—made him shudder.

He tucked the Bible under his arm, the gold lettering pressed tightly against his side. Maybe someone would mistake it for a journal. A glance at his watch made him scowl—somehow, the walk from the coffee shop to the office had eaten up more time than expected. Lucius would undoubtedly have something to say about it later; they had a meeting, and now he was going to be late—again.

Dragging a hand down his face, Bruce felt the exhaustion deep in his bones. The late nights and early mornings were catching up with him, eroding his focus, fraying the edges of his mind. For a moment, bitterness welled up—a rare flicker of resignation. Did it even make a difference? Gotham’s streets were never truly free of crime. Petty theft, gang violence, the constant churn of the underworld—it never stopped. And the ones he managed to lock up? They always found a way out. Arkham was a revolving door, a sick joke of a prison.

For a fleeting second, he entertained the idea of quitting. The notion of a full night’s sleep was almost unimaginable, but his body ached for it. Was there really no reprieve? After all these years, the despair felt like it was swallowing him whole. Gotham was a sinkhole, and he was drowning in it.

But he shook off the thought, setting his jaw with grim resolve. He would not break, and he would not allow himself the luxury of weakness. He’d let his body rot from the inside out if that’s what it took to see his mission through. It wasn’t just an obligation; it was a promise. And though no one would blame him if he walked away, though they might even understand, he wouldn’t bow down and admit defeat. He’d fought for fifteen years—he could fight for fifteen more.

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce tossed the Bible onto his desk and sank into his leather chair, his eyes heavy as they flicked to the desktop screen. Logging in, he was greeted by a flood of emails—requests for meetings from the legal branch, shareholders bickering over stock distributions, and the usual complaints from board members about his lack of attention to this year’s Gala preparations.

His assistant had already informed him of the missed meeting, explaining that Lucius had been pulled into another matter. The issues were piling up, and for a brief moment, his hand trembled as he reached for the mouse. Wayne Enterprises was his father’s legacy, and Batman was his—but right now, the mission would have to wait. He needed to get this under control, and fast.

Four hours of back-to-back phone calls and troubleshooting. Bruce was now lying under his desk, trying to replace a faulty cable. The entire office was down, and with IT swamped, he had no choice but to handle it himself. He needed to review the quarterly reports before the bonuses were announced, and he knew the company had been slacking—summer interns flooding in and Tim away at college had left him without the structure he relied on.

When he finally sat up from the floor, his head collided with the corner of the desk, sending a sharp pain through his skull. The Bible tumbled from the desk, hitting him squarely on the head before flopping open on the ground, a business card slipping out.

Bruce picked it up, squinting at the bold print: "1-800-ANGEL." He frowned. What kind of absurd, erotic phone service was this? The card was nearly blank, save for a single line:

"May you find your faith."

Real funny, he thought, for a number probably meant to fleece desperate souls. They probably charged by the minute. Bruce rolled his eyes, dismissing it as yet another scam targeting the gullible.

Bruce thumbed the card, skepticism tightening his grip. Surely, no one was desperate enough to actually call. He wondered about the legitimacy of the number, and after settling back into his chair, he opened a new tab. Thankfully, the replacement cable had done its job, and his screen blinked to life. He typed in the number, but nothing came up—not even a link to some sketchy website. He tried the motto next, but all he found were articles on religion and local church recommendations. He raised an eyebrow. For a scam, they were doing a remarkably poor job of marketing it.

Picking up the Bible again, he considered the possibility that the kids handing them out might have been given faulty copies. But as he inspected it, the Bible seemed legitimate enough. He cross-referenced it with an online version to be sure, but everything checked out. The only oddity was the card. Flipping through the pages, he eventually found a strange marking on the back cover, stamped with the words "ales et lux."

"Wings and light?" he muttered, dropping the Bible back onto the desk.

Curiosity gnawed at him. Without hesitation, he dialed the number. Whatever this was, he intended to get to the bottom of it. Maybe he’d caught it early enough—he could pull a few strings with the FBI and shut it down before it preyed on anyone vulnerable. But as the line connected, the voice on the other end made him stop cold.

“So you’ve received the calling card of heaven. We’re so glad you have found your faith. Please note this card is for one-time use. For inquiries about time of death, press 1. For prayers and answers, press 2. For information on Christian denominations and healing, press 3. For nondenominational options, press 4. For Native, Inuit, Norse, and Pagan beliefs, press 5. Unsure what category your beliefs fall under? Press star for a list. For all other healing-related questions, press 6.”

Bruce’s scowl deepened as he listened to the automated menu. The damn phone hadn’t even rung—this had to be some kind of twisted scam. He was about to hang up when the final option made his breath catch.

“And finally, to speak to your angel, press 0.”

His angel? A guardian angel? He doubted he had one. If he did, they’d done a piss-poor job watching over him. The loss of his parents, Jason Todd, and Alfred—the man who had been the closest thing to a father he had left—proved that. Anger flickered in his chest. He wanted to speak to this so-called angel, to confront them, to demand answers for the pain he’d endured. What kind of angel lets their charge suffer like this?

He pressed zero, the cold, rational part of him momentarily overridden by the seething anger and hurt simmering beneath the surface—the hurt little boy he’d buried deep inside threatening to unleash all that unprocessed trauma.

He wasn’t expecting such a soft voice to greet him, nor the surprising calm that washed over his mind as it did.

“Bruce? You really called.” The voice on the other end was feminine, light, almost breathless, as if she had been waiting for this moment.

“...Who the hell are you?” His voice was sharp, defensive.

“Well, my official title doesn’t really have an accurate translation in mortal language, but I’m more or less your protector.”

“Protector?!” He growled, the word scraping out like a curse. “You couldn’t even protect me from a goddamn paper cut, let alone a laundry list of loss. You didn’t protect anything—I protect this city, I protect people. You’re not even real! You’re probably just some credit card scammer, phishing for my personal data. That’s what this is, isn’t it? Data mining. Your entire operation is fraudulent at best, and—”

He cut himself off, his voice shaking with anger. It wasn’t just fury at this supposed "protector"—it was fury at the years of pain, at the endless nights spent fighting a war that never seemed to end, at the world for daring to keep spinning while he bled in the dark. How dare anyone call themselves his protector when every person he’d ever loved had been torn away from him? How dare they try to soothe him with some ethereal nonsense when he was the one in the trenches, the one facing down Gotham’s nightmares every single night?

The silence on the other end of the line was almost unbearable, but he wouldn’t back down. He’d heard enough lies in his lifetime to know when someone was trying to sell him false hope.

“…It doesn’t work like that,” the voice finally replied, a hint of sadness woven into its softness. “I can’t interfere with your life in the way you think. Those losses… they were unfortunate, and I know they fuel the anguish that haunts your mind, but my role isn’t to shield you from pain. My job is to keep you alive. Every close call, every moment when death was just a breath away—that was my divine interference. I won’t let you die, Bruce. Not until the time is right and your body is ready to rest.”

Bruce clenched his jaw, anger and disbelief warring within him. He wanted to tear into her, to lash out at the absurdity of it all. This so-called protector, claiming to watch over him, to keep him alive—where was she when his parents were murdered in front of him? Where was she when Jason died, or when he stood over Alfred’s grave, feeling the weight of yet another life lost because of him?

“Don’t patronize me,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I need your protection? You think those near-deaths were some divine favor? I’ve survived because I’ve fought, because I’ve clawed my way out of every hellhole Gotham’s thrown me into. You had nothing to do with it.”

He could almost hear her smile through the phone, a soft, resigned sound that seemed to fill the silence between them.

“You’ve fought harder than anyone should ever have to, Bruce. You’re the purest soul I’ve ever had the privilege of encountering. No matter how much you try to front or deflect, it’s clear you care. You care more than anyone else. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have taken in those kids, or dressed up like a bat to fight crime night after night. You’re like Sisyphus, eternally pushing a boulder uphill. And while you may not want praise or acknowledgment, you need to know—despite everything, you are a good person. You’re a good man. And in many ways, you’re the closest thing to God’s image I’ve ever seen.”

Bruce’s breath caught, anger and disbelief momentarily overshadowed by the weight of her words. How could she claim to know him so well, to understand his pain and sacrifice? Yet, the very notion of being compared to something divine—despite how hollow it felt—struck a chord deep within him.

“Spare me the sermon,” he growled, trying to regain his composure. “You think you can soothe me with this celestial rhetoric? I don’t need your validation. I need results. I need to keep this city safe, and I need to know that those I care about are protected. Save your platitudes for someone who believes in them.”

There was a pause on the other end, as if she was choosing her words carefully. “I’m not here to validate you, Bruce. I’m here to remind you that even in the darkest moments, you have a purpose. And while you may see yourself as a flawed instrument of justice, remember that even in your struggle, there’s a reflection of something greater—a beacon of hope for others, whether you realize it or not.”

Bruce didn’t respond, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. The rational part of him dismissed her words as manipulative flattery, but a flicker of vulnerability, long suppressed, threatened to break through. He forced himself to focus, pushing those thoughts aside.

“Enough of this,” he said, his voice cold and final. “If you’re really here to help, then stay out of my way. I’ll handle things my way.”

He hung up the phone, the echo of her voice lingering in his mind. As he turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork and problems awaiting him, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that perhaps, in some twisted way, she had touched a part of him he had long buried.

𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢

Bruce landed another punch on the goon, watching as they crumpled to the ground. Fighting at the docks was his least favorite—slippery surfaces and treacherous footing made it harder to maintain his balance. He glanced at the wall, the dim streetlight casting an eerie glow on the dilapidated brick.

In the periphery of his vision, he thought he saw the shadow of wings, a fleeting, phantom-like presence. When he snapped around, though, all he saw were the goons he had already beaten. They lay scattered and unconscious, bloodied and bruised. A quick scan of the area revealed the familiar wreckage of a confrontation: discarded weapons and broken crates.

On the ground, a few feet away from a goon he didn’t remember hitting, lay a gun glinting in the faint light. Next to it was a single white feather. The goon in question had no visible injuries, no sign of the kind of violence Bruce had just inflicted on the others. There were no swollen bruises, no blood—nothing to suggest that they had been involved in the scuffle.

Bruce frowned, his mind racing. He hadn't hit this one, nor had he seen anything out of the ordinary during the fight. The feather seemed out of place, its presence unsettling. It wasn’t like anything he had come across before—an odd detail in an otherwise straightforward altercation.

His instincts, honed by years of vigilant observation, told him this was no mere coincidence. There was something strange here, something beyond the usual street brawls and petty crime. The feather could mean something, or someone, had intervened. And if that was the case, Bruce needed to understand why.

He crouched down to examine the feather and the gun more closely. His eyes narrowed, scanning for any other anomalies or signs that could explain the goon’s sudden unconsciousness. Whatever the cause, Bruce knew he couldn’t ignore it. Not with the pattern of oddities and divine encounters that had begun to surface recently.

He straightened up, the feather clenched in his hand, his mind already shifting gears. There was more at play here than just a fight—something, or someone, was influencing events from the shadows. And as always, it was up to him to uncover the truth.

˚₊‧𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢 𓏲𝄢‧₊˚

Approx. Word Count: ~2,746

pt I: Coming Soon(?)

This is a soft-launch of this series, if you guys would like more parts, please let me know in the comments <3 It helps motivate me to write!

//Series Tag List: Available Upon Request!

Status Page 2024: Here

[allthingsfangirl101]

Out of The Blue – Keys

Masterlist

I walked into my apartment and kicked off my shoes. I went upstairs and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized flannel. The second I got downstairs, I collapsed onto the couch.

Right out of MIT, I got a job as a traveling coder. I meet with business professionals and owners and help them build their websites. After the first meeting, everything I did could be done from home.

I grabbed my laptop off my desk and took it to the family room. I put on the TV show I was currently binge-watching and slowly started working on my newest project. I was finishing up for the night when I glanced over and saw how late it was. I was just about to close my computer when it dinged. With furrowed eyebrows, I checked my email.

Walter McKeys.

My heart flipped and then plummeted into my stomach. I haven't talked to Keys since college. We were in a lot of classes together. We constantly studied together and helped each other with our homework. I was the one who gave him the nickname "Keys". He gave me the nickname "Buggy". He used to say that I was annoyingly good at finding and getting rid of computer bugs.

Memories came flooding back as I read his email.

Hey Buggy, It's been a long time. I'm sorry for this random email, but I've been thinking a lot about you lately. That's probably weird. To be honest, I don't really know how to explain why I'm emailing you. I've never been very good with words. I'm only good with code. You know that. How many times did we have to do a presentation and all I could do was the coding part? You were always the one who did the presentation and the talking part.

Sorry. I'm email-rambling. Anyway, I've been having this issue with a code and AI. I finally made the connection and figured out the problem. I only figured it out because of you. I know that doesn't make sense, Buggy, and I'm sorry. Please watch the video attached and maybe, just maybe, it'll make more sense.

Sincerely, Your Keys

As I finished the email, my breathing was unsteady, almost coming out in short gasps. I reread it over and over again, my mind spinning with questions. I opened the attachment, but for some reason, I couldn't play it. When I finally pressed play, Keys popped up on my laptop screen. From the looks of it, he was at his office late at night.

Why would he film this at his office and send it to me despite how late it was?

That question made me finally press play. I held my breath as Keys started talking.

"Hey, Buggy," he smiled at the camera. "I know this is kinda weird, but I need to get some things off my chest. I'm not sure if you know this but for the last year, I've been working for Soonami on a game called, "Free Life". Lately, I've noticed something. . . Strange. Before I explain, I need to confess something. A while ago, I created a game with a friend of mine called, Life Itself. To be honest, Y/N, I used part of your code from our senior project."

Keys looked away from the camera and sighed. When he looked back, my chest tightened at the look on his face.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I should've. . . I changed it a little bit. Your code was focused on programming. All I did was adapt it for gaming. I'm sorry. I know I should've called and asked for your permission. I really hope that doesn't make you hate me."

He cleared his throat and took a minute to get his thoughts back on track. "Anway," he continued, "Soonami bought "Life Itself". They claimed to have shelved it, but my friend Millie found proof that they didn't. For you to understand what happened, I need to introduce you to Guy."

I smiled when his scream split and I saw the character he started talking about. "He's supposed to be an NPC, but something changed. Now, from the beginning. . . Guy's behavior is much more complex than it should be, thanks to our code."

My heart jumped when he called it "our code".

"But he's still stuck in "Free City,"" he continued. "He's still stuck in his life, this loop. And then, something changes. He comes to life. Why? And then I remembered. One of the characters from "Life Itself" was this guy that I nicknamed, "Lovelorn". And he was someone who was designed to never meet the right person. It was essentially the building blocks of the character. But he never stopped hoping that he would meet "the girl of his dreams". So I had to base this girl off of someone. . . and who better than the person that I was sitting next to every day? You."

My breathing sped up and I felt my heart jump back into my throat as he continued to explain to me what was going on.

"But then, one day, he meets Millie in "Free City", and once he sees her. . . he can never be the same. He was supposed to feel doomed, but instead, he feels alive until eventually, he is alive. Millie changed him. You wrote the code that was able to be changed by one person. One connection. You brought him to life, Y/N. You wrote the code that brought him to life. And he was alive because he met the one person he'd been waiting for his whole life. And I had to make it realistic, so. . . I based it off of. . . You. The woman of his dreams. . . she was the same as mine."

I hit the pause button, my heart beating against my chest. I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to put my thoughts together.

"But Millie is the one who met him," I mumbled under my breath. "She's the one who brought him to life. . . I just wrote his code."

I grabbed my bag and headed to my car but stopped when I realized what time it was.

I went to bed but as soon as I got up, I found Soonami's address. I anxiously drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I got close. I signed in at the front desk and headed up to the offices. The entire time I was in the elevator, I kept repeating what Keys said in the video.

"Hello, gorgeous," a guy smirked. "I'm Mouser. And you are?"

"Not looking for you," I said harshly. "Where's Keys?"

"Not here," he shrugged. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"You got an address?"

* * * * *

When I pulled up to Keys' apartment complex, my nerves made me freeze. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to him when and if he opened that door. I barely found the courage to park my car and head up to his place.

I got to his door but hesitated before knocking. I held my breath as I waited for him to answer. The longer it took him, the closer I got to turning around and running away. I was just about to when the door opened.

"Y/N," Keys stuttered.

"Hi," I said, my voice softer than I wished. "We need to talk about that video."

He sent me a small smile and nodded. I took a shaky breath when he opened the door and moved aside for me to come in. I walked in and instantly started nervously playing with my hands.

"Have a seat," he invited me.

"Nice place," I mumbled as I looked around but didn't sit down.

"Thanks," he chuckled, clearly embarrassed. He cleared his throat before attempting to break through the tension. "So, that video. . ."

"Millie brought him to life," I cut him off. "Not me."

"It was your code," he shrugged with a small look on his face.

"You said I was the woman of your dreams," I continued, "but your friend Millie is the one who brought him to life. Not me. So according to that, she should be the woman of your dreams."

"But she's not," he said, slowly taking a step closer to me. "Millie has a lot in common with you. She loves bubblegum ice cream, swingsets, and Mariah Carey. So yes, Millie is the one that Guy ran into, but it was the similarities that he fell for. In fact, if you had run into him in the game, you would have brought him to life."

"Keys, this is. . . I don't understand. . . I just. . ."

I cut myself off when he leaned in, his face inches from mine. "I know I was rambling," he whispered, "but there is one important part in what I said."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about this," he continued. "You're the woman of my dreams, Buggy."

Before I could say anything, Keys leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. My mind was swimming as I slowly kissed him back. He broke the kiss with a small smile on his face. We looked into each other's eyes as we struggled to catch our breaths.

"I know this was completely random," he whispered with his forehead pressed to mine, "but I couldn't stop thinking about you, Buggy. Every day I fixed the coding issues with Free Life, I thought about you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the night we graduated from MIT."

"That video. . ." I whispered but didn't continue.

"Was my cowardly way of admitting my feelings for you," he said with a small chuckle as he leaned back. I held my breath as he reached forward and gently grabbed my hands, slightly pulling me closer.

"Say it," I said under my breath.

"Say what?" He asked, slightly tilting his head.

"Confess to me what you confessed in the video."

Keys smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

"You are the woman of my dreams," he whispered. "I created the character Lovelorn and kinda based him off of me. I designed him to never meet the right person because I was worried I never would. As I was creating him and "the girl of his dreams", I started basing her off the first girl that came to my mind. You. I thought about what I felt as we sat next to each other and worked on our senior projects. I thought about how I felt when you helped me with my code. I thought about how badly I wanted to be more than just coding partners. You, my dear Buggy, are the woman of my dreams."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he tightened his arms around my waist and kissed me back. We let out matching laughs as we fell back onto his couch. He hovered over me, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I've missed you, Buggy."

"I've missed you too, Keys."

[angelbaby-fics]

Hi love, how are you! I haven’t been on tumblr much lately but I still love you and your work!! I’ve been dealing with some tough stuff with my health and have been little a lot more lately. Would you write Cg!Ransom as just turning into a melted fit of mush for the reader?Just like absolutely spoiling them and doing whatever they want when they don’t feel good?

Love,

🐣

Daddy's Day Off

Word Count: 750

A/N: Aww hello angel! I'm glad to hear from you again & I hope you're always doing alright 💕 eeep I love Ransom so much, especially in the cold months I just want to cling to him hehehe 💕

It was a busy day full of stressful meetings and Ransom was not at all pleased about it. As much as he loved being extravagantly rich, the people he had to deal with on a daily basis almost made it not worth it. Almost. One thought of you, your bright eyes and contagious smile, and Ransom was reminded that he’d go through hell just to make that happen. He checked the time on his phone, just an excuse to look at the background image really. It was a picture of you and him, a selfie he had taken while you were curled up with him on the couch - he smiled at the camera, but your loving gaze was locked on him. Every time he saw this picture it reminded him what he did it all for.

He couldn’t do it today though, he just couldn’t. You’d had a nightmare earlier, screaming yourself out of slumber in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent with you curled up against his chest and him hardly sleeping, dutifully keeping watch on you to make sure you stayed at peace. It broke his heart to close you out of his home office that morning, your rejected face echoing through his head as he tried to focus on today’s planner entries. All he wanted was to be finished with this stupid workday and to spend the rest of it with you. Your love was the only thing that could relieve his stress after a long day of dealing with a bunch of a-holes. Yes, he needed his baby just as much as you needed him. 

To hell with it. Ransom sent a short email to his assistant to cancel all his meetings as he needed to take a personal day. With that, he shut his laptop and tossed his work phone into his desk drawer, nearly slamming it shut. He was so eager to get away from all this and just relax with you. When he opened his office door, he almost expected you to still be there looking up at him with tearful eyes, but like the brave and independent baby he’d raised you to be, you had already begun trying to distract yourself until Ransom was finished with work. 

You knew Ransom didn’t like distractions when he was in work-mode, so although you’d rather spend the day curled up with him just as you’d spent last night, you took it upon yourself to keep occupied. That’s how Ransom found you on the floor of the living room, the massive flatscreen tv playing a marathon of Bluey episodes above you. Every color of crayon was scattered all around you, a pile of already finished drawings stacked upon the coffee table. At the sound of Ransom’s heavy footsteps, your head shot up from your picture of a cat in a garden.

“Daddy, you finished already?” You asked hopefully.

“Daddy got a surprise day off, baby!” He replied, scooping you up into his arms. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, looking up at him with more love in your eyes than Ransom thought he deserved in his whole lifetime. 

“Anything you want, babydoll. I’m all yours.” Ransom carried you to the giant sofa, keeping you pressed against his firm chest as he swaddled the two of you together in a big plush throw blanket. 

He handed you the remote, happy to sit through any cartoon or cheesy musical if it meant making you happy. When he heard your tummy rumble after a while, Ransom grabbed the house phone and ordered your favorite pizza, without even needing to ask if you wanted it. He knew you better than he even knew himself. He helped you eat your pizza as you watched tv, something you rarely got to do at the same time. When you finished eating, he carried you to the kitchen to get you dessert and a bottle, not wanting to put you down for even a second.

Hours later, the credits on your second movie of the day were crawling across the screen, and Ransom was sure you were fast asleep, when suddenly he heard your tiny voice muffled through the blankets and his comfy thick sweater.

“Dada?” You asked, even smaller than you’d been this morning.

“What’s up, babydoll?” He whispered down to you.

“You gotta get a day off more often.” You mumbled, drifting into sleep.

“I will, baby. I will.”

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 13- Taunt

Helloooo. I hope you enjoy, sorry about the wait!!!

This is a blurb from Dirty Business hehehehe.

FICTOBER

Patreon

WC- 1.2k

--------

“Are you trying to taunt me?” His rough voice traveled through his office, eyes peeling over Y/N’s costume. She rested with her hands braced on the dark wood of his desk, her slightly unbuttoned blouse giving a peek into the lack of bra that was hidden underneath. 

Harry had been working in his new and improved office, leaning over his keyboard and writing a scathing email when his door had been unlocked from the outside. Only one person held the key to this place, so he knew who it was, but he was very surprised to see the vastly different outfit his lover had on. Tight black pencil skirt, tempting stockings clinging to her legs. Her shirt was a stark white button up with a slightly relaxed collar, black buttons going up most of it until it reached the middle of her tits- where she so kindly had left a bit unbuttoned for his viewing pleasure. He could hear the clicking of her patent leather heels as she approached the desk, her red painted lips smiling at him as she had greeted him with a ‘Hello, sir.’. She even had her hair up in a smart bun with a pencil tucked behind her ear. 

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about, Sir. I came to check on you, because obviously you’ve had some grueling work.” Her painted pout went straight to his crotch, matching red nails tapping over the cold wood. “It’s the day before Halloween! I know you take your job very seriously, but don’t you want a break?” Her pout morphed into a nymph like grin, leaning further over the desk with her dip of her breasts showing just a bit more- and as much control as Harry normally held, Y/N was his true weakness. Anyone who had eyes would know that. 

She had dressed up as a sexy secretary, a tempting wet dream right in front of him. He had been stressed all day and she knew he was going to be late home for dinner, so instead she had come to him. He held a lot of love for this woman in his heart but it seemed to grow each and every day. Both the costume and her thoughtfulness, knowing and sensing when her partner was frustrated and needed to take a break made him horny. 

Y/N had often told Harry he was working himself to the bone- and he was. He had to prove that he deserved his position, he didn’t actually get it just because he was with the owner’s daughter, so he spent many nights on his computer and putting in double the effort. While Y/N knew and understood once he had explained it to her, she didn’t like that type of strain on him, so the giving girl made her her personal and very serious mission to make him relax. 

“Come on. Don’t you want to have something sweet, Sir?” Her heels snapped against the ground as she rounded the desk, Harry’s arms crossing over his chest as he watched her approach. He would probably not get this email done, but watching her fingers pop another button on her shirt made his jaw clench up and suddenly, that prospect was okay. “Anything you’d like… Just let me know what you need, and I’ll let you have it.” Her body moved to stand between his legs, sitting her bum against the lip of the desk and taking his hands from their folded state to grab her hips. 

Harry was only so strong, squeezing her hips as he glanced at her with a narrowed glare. “I’ve got things to do, Y/N. I pay you to be my secretary, not my caregiver. But…” He looked down at her chest, feeling her soft hips in his hands and his cock throbbing in his briefs. “If you want to be any good at your job, you can go above and beyond this once.” Removing his hands, he moved his chair back and gestured to the floor. “I want to cash in on that something sweet. Get on those knees and suck me off. Want to cum down your pretty little throat to take the edge off.”

Y/N’s smile widened, looking giddily at him as she immediately did as asked. It took her a second, hiking up the skirt so she had a bit more mobility, falling to her knees as her greedy hands immediately went to his belt. “Thank you, Sir. You won’t regret it.” She whispered, nudging her cheek against the trousers on his thigh. This little roleplay was something she had stashed away for their halloween party adventures, but thank god she had a backup. Harry had been at the office overtime for all week, and she wanted to make him feel good, damn it. 

The moment her mouth was wrapped around his prick, Harry’s shoulders began to deflate, leaning back in his chair as he watched the red lipstick smear on his skin, her lips stretching around the girth. Perhaps she was a bit overzealous in her quickness to take him further down, gagging on him and startling him slightly as he tugged her up by the hair and sent her a look. “Careful, pretty thing. Love hearing you gag around me, but be careful with it. There’s no rush.” He released her hair, chuckling as she went back down and licked up the excess saliva on him before popping him right back into her mouth. 

“There we go. Cleaning up your messes, such a perfect little thing. Taunting me into taking breaks, love distracting me. Don’t you?” her hum against him made his thighs tense, vibrations making him groan. Y/N was no stranger to what he liked, but it still amazed him that she was so fucking good at it. 

Time moved as he leaned back in the seat, guiding her with his hand as she bobbed up and down on his cock, feeling his balls tighten as she pulled back to lick over them. It was a weakness, a garbled moan leaving his throat as he pushed her further into them, her mouth suckling at them and her hand messy as it stroked him quickly, firmly. The wet sounds filled his office, along with his harsh breathing, and he was stupidly close. He had good stamina usually, but the combination of everything had him feeling it in his gut as he pulled her off of his balls with a wet sound from her mouth. 

“M’gonna cum.” He whispered. “Stick out your tongue, baby. There we go, lay it flat.” He took over, smacking the tip of his cock over the pink muscle as he felt his balls pull up, groaning as he felt it. “Here it comes, angel. Take your treat.” He watched the stripes of cum spurt over her soft mouth, over her tongue and lips as she blinked up at him with her bambi eyes. Streaks of mascara had fallen a bit down her cheek from making herself gag a little, but it was a picture perfect scene as his toes curled in his shoes, mouth open as he finished on her tongue. 

[ayato-kisser]

voicemail.

a collection of missed calls from xiao, alhaitham, kaveh, dehya, and shenhe idol au, you're their manager

no warnings | for @favonius-library's exchange event. dedicated to @seraphiism

Xiao

Manager, I’ve sent you the files for the song demo. Check your email. I left snacks on your desk for when you come back. Don’t stay too late. … Take care.

Alhaitham

Good afternoon, manager. It’s supposed to rain later, so I’ve left an umbrella by your desk for when you return home later. My schedule is free for the rest of the day, so I’ll be going home. Call me if you need anything. 

Kaveh 

Manager, I stayed up all night to write the new album… record time. Five songs, all complete, in 7 hours. I’m sending the files over right now, so look them over if you have time. Oh, and the title track is Rose of my Heart, the second file… I think the chorus is really clever and catchy; see if it gets stuck in your head. I’m gonna go to sleep… 

Dehya

Sorry to bother, Manager. I just wanted to confirm if my radio broadcast for tomorrow was rescheduled. If so, I think we’ll have to delay the announcement for the charity collab until next week, and we can’t schedule the post for tomorrow too. Make sure to drink water, alright? Take care, bye.

Shenhe

Manager… remember the dinner you made me? It was delicious, so I decided to make something for you as well. Would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week? I understand that you are busy; it’s alright if you are unable to attend. Thank you, manager.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Doting husband! Bruce spoiling his wife 💕

Alfred checked the clock on the wall as he put a breakfast plate down for you, accepting your sleepy smile of thanks- It had been a late night last night he knew.

You'd worked late and then spent several hours in your office doing some work while you waited for Bruce to get home. And a sleepy smile of thanks was enough. More than he was going to get out of the man himself. Who didn't even seem to realize he was awake but was still trying to fix your coffee for you.

And, almost on queue, your phone rang.

"The best part of waking up, is screaming what the fuck," you sing song to yourself, scowling at the message you opened.

The butler stifled a snort with difficulty. "Another busy day I see, Mrs. Wayne."

"Per my last email," you start, rolling your eyes, grateful for speech to text. "You'll see that the forms needed to be put in yesterday."

"That was almost pleasant," Bruce said, setting your coffee down and kissing the side of your head clumsily.

"I cannot yell 'Bitch can you read' without being held in contempt," you snort.

"I could afford to pay the fine if you ever wanted to," he said.

"I might take you up on that one day," you grouse, leaning against his side, resting your head against his side.

Bruce chuckled and bent down to kiss the top of your head, making a mental note to book you a day at the spa. You were going to need some pampering after this week. And before he had to take you out to make the rounds- to see and be seen.

You'd probably like pedicures and getting your hair done every week or two... a harmless little indulgence. And one you'd probably agree to if he pouted a little about being worried about you.

"That's my girl," he murmured, squeezing your shoulder and kissing you softly when you looked up at him. "Got some lives to ruin today?"

"At least their day," you hum.

"Going soft on me?" he teased.

"It's too early to spread my usual fresh hell," you yawn, "But we'll see once I get some coffee in."

[alexusonfire]

I'm sorry, my love.

Larissa Weems x Reader

A rainy day at the Weathervane has Larissa recalling how it all went wrong.

Warnings: Angst angst angst. No happy endings here.

"What can I get for you ma'am?"

Larissa looked up from her phone, the noises of the Weathervane flooding back to her. She'd been staring at her phone, specifically a picture of the two of you. You were sat beside eachother in a booth of your favorite restaurant, dressed to the nines and smiling real smiles, Larissa's arm looped behind your waist as she held you close to her. Larissa had originally been too shy to ask the maître d' for a photo, but you'd insisted with your very best puppy eyes, the ones she'd never been able to say no to.

"Ma'am?"

Larissa shook herself from her thoughts and offered an apologetic smile to the young person in front of her, placing her phone face down on the table.

"My deepest apologies, it seems I'm not quite myself today. I'll have a hot chocolate please, extra whip."

The waitress merely nodded and left, Larissa's smile disappearing with them. She turned her attentions to the hustle and bustle outside, the sudden and unexpected patter of rain catching many off guard; the ring of the bell above the Weathervane's door went on and off, on and off, more and more patrons coming in in hopes of escaping the storm.

She'd never intended to let it get so bad between you. Really she hadn't. At first she blamed getting caught up in her duties to Nevermore, so busy with emails and meetings and events she hadn't quite noticed how many of your messages she'd started to leave on read, all the phone calls going to voicemail.

"I'm not saying you need to be available to me twenty four seven Rissa, but I haven't heard from you all day and it's ten at night. It only takes a few minutes to check in."

"You're right darling. I'm sorry. I'll make it a priority from now on. I'll make us a priority."

She'd stuck to her word for a couple months after, making the first time she'd missed dinner without warning not so big a deal. You'd understood that she had too much on her plate, what with Outreach Day and Parents Weekend, and she'd simply lost track of time.

The fifth time however, left in the restaurant for an unexcusable amount of time before paying for your single glass of wine with tears in your eyes, you'd been less inclined to forgive her so easily.

"I was there for hours Larissa! I called, I texted, nothing! It's our anniversary for god's sake!"

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry dearest, I didn't mean to. It won't happen again, I swear it-"

If you asked her now, she wouldn't be able to pinpoint when exactly the bad began to outweigh the good, when the late-night arguments became more frequent than the early-morning whispered sweet nothings; it all blurred together until it just became too much.

"I can't do this anymore Larissa."

That she remembered, clear as day. You hadn't even looked angry like she would have expected, like you had so many times before; you only looked exhausted. Defeated. Done. She'd tried her best to hold on to you, clinging to any lifeline she thought she may have, but you knew it was only empty promises- that same conversation, those same apologies, over and over again.

"I promise I'll change. I'll be better darling, I will. Don't leave. Please."

The thunk of ceremic pulled Larissa's gaze up, and she flashed a small smile to the waitress, thanking them as they placed her hot chocolate down. She took a moment to blow on the surface before taking the first sip, the warmth spreading pleasantly through her chest. As it settled in her stomach, she realized this was the first feeling of comfort she'd had since you'd packed your bags and left her for your hometown.

"I wish things had been different Larissa."

Misty eyed, she finished only half her cocoa, left a generous tip, and then braced herself for the impending chill outside. She used to love rainy days, the smell and sound reminding her of cozy afternoons spent in with you, laughter and loving chasing away the dreary weather whilst wrapped in eachothers arms.

How she wished it had been different too.