#and I have been waiting for a good time to have a hard convo with him. but shit keeps happening

[butch--dean]

My partner’s building caught on fire last night bc some asshole was shooting off fireworks on the front lawn 🙃

[pixiesholloworld]

✘The tow truck driver?!✘

synopsis : Incoming text from - Toji 🛻 “i wasnt gonna tell you, but you’re fucking hot. but im honestly a hoe and only want one thing.. 🍆💦”

cw: daddy kink, fingering, head (giving/reciving), brat taming?, f!reader

the check engine light has been on for the past month, but you’ve repeatedly ignored it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? well, your consistent neglect of the light has landed you in this situation. 

stranded on the shoulder of the highway waiting for some shady tow truck driver to come to your rescue, he was your cheapest option, and when you saw his old beat up truck speeding towards you, you quickly understood why. he came to a stop as he approached, rolling down his passenger window to get a good look at you. 

“you [✿]?”, the brown rust corroded the hood of his car, causing flakes to peel off with the wind. you can’t even imagine what the truck could’ve looked like in it's glory, it was hard to believe years of neglect left the truck in this state— it's almost like he bought it this way. “yeah,” you answered, “are you toji?”

“what’s it look like?” you search the truck to see the faded out: ‘Toji’s Towing’. “oh”

“ya waitin’ for an invite?”

you open the car door to see crumbled-up wrappers from obscure burger joints and empty beer cans—the rubbish, let alone the smell of *sniff* *sniff*… man contorted your face. toji must’ve taken notice of this because it made him chuckle. “excuse the mess, sweetheart,” his raspy voice curling over his words, “you don’t mind, do ya?”

“not at all,” you awkwardly smile. you felt kind of bad for him, honestly. he hooked his crane up to the front of your car and, before pulling off, lit a cigarette. his shoulders were broad and his arms looked strong and heavy, he didn’t have an AC in his car, either that or it didn’t work, so the hot summer air blew in both of your faces 

his black locks stayed all but too far from his face, allowing you to get a glimpse of the scar that marks his lip, his emerald eyes focusing on the road ahead. 

you felt weird for staring at him after a while and didn’t want him to notice, so you averted your gaze to the road, watching the cars pass by you two. you wondered though, how could a hunk like him get in this position. 

“so, you grew up’round here?” He asks

“a little ways from here, i stay with my mom in a duplex”

“nice, where ya comin’ from?”

“my job, i work as a barista at the mall”

“s’ bit far for work don’t you think”

you smile at how easily he set himself up, “you drive a tow truck”

you turn towards him to see a smirk creeping up on his face, he blows out smoke and holds his cigarette out

“fair,” he pulls another drag before putting it out in what you can only assume to be a homemade ashtray, “you got anyone that can look at this for ya at home?” he says gesturing towards your car

“mm no, i was gonna take it to the shop”

he clicks his teeth and sneers, “those punks don’t know the first thing about cars”

“where do you think i should go then?”

he glances over at you before returning his attention to the road, “i’ll look at it for ya”

—

after that convo the rest of the drive was silent, though you both exchanged stolen glances here and there. you tried to tell yourself it was nothing to overthink, though the stirs in your stomach were telling you otherwise. it was hard to act like having an older man’s attention wasn’t somewhat enticing 

when he finally got to your house, he backed your car into the driveway. you couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of relief. though it was nice talking to him, you couldn’t wait to get out of that dump of a tow truck. it made you consider taking those AAA charges next time 

he steps out of the truck and walks around to let you out. when you see his full body for the first time, you’re a bit taken aback. sure he looked ok in the truck, but he looked even better out of it. he had a tall muscular build, and he had to be around 6 feet. how was his truck hiding so much height from your eyes? You shook any remaining amazement from your face and stepped out, hurrying past him to try and avert your gaze

“so what happened anyways, what’s wrong with it?” he immediately walks past you to your car and starts inspecting it

“the engine light was on but.. i thought it would just go away on its own..” you reluctantly admit

“silly girl,” the rasp in his voice making your heart jump, “you should’ve taken this’t the shop when you first saw it” he struts over to you and lays his hand out, you look at his hand and then back up to his captivating eyes, “the keys?” he says.

“oh, yeah, right, right” you hand him the keys, and he turns the car on, popping the hood. you watch as his clothes cling to him, his long, black hair hanging over his face as he inspects different parts of your engine. you notice as he reaches into the engine, his tanned hands become stained with a black substance. it’s kinda hot. when you actually get a good look at him at this angle… he isn’t a bad-looking guy, he’s a little ruff around the edges, sure, but you like that about him

“i might have’ta take this to my shop, really gotta get under there n’figure out what’s going on”

you could name something else you wanted him to get under too, but you quickly shoved that thought in your back pocket, “how much is that gonna be” 

“usually i charge a pretty penny but for you,” he says while wiping his hands on a dirty rag that was stuffed in his pocket, “i’ll do it for free”

“really? oh my god thank you so much”

“s’no problem doll, i should probably get going before it gets too dark though”

you can feel your heart pounding from anticipation not quite wanting him to leave yet

“y-yeah sure, but um… wouldn’t you like to eat first?”

he closes your car hood and smirks

“whatcha cookin?”

—

you turn the keys to your house before inviting him in, he winks at you and makes himself comfortable at the kitchen's island. you walk past him and pull out lukewarm potatoes, you can feel him stare at you as you walk back and forth between the different drawers and potatoes. you tried to focus on what you were doing and tried to think of other things, but your mind would always wonder back to the idea of him bending you over and fucking the living daylights out of you 

you try to sneak a glance at toji but it doesn't work he's still staring just as intensely as before and snickers at your futile attempt to look without him knowing. "somethin' you wanna say, sweetheart?" he asks, words laced with lust

'yeah, i want you to fuck my brains out' some request that is huh? instead, you ask something more appropriate, "could you come peel the potatoes?" so there you two are side by side peeling potatoes, weakly fighting the urge to ask if he's feeling the same way you're feeling. your thoughts suddenly come to a halt though when you realize he's old enough to be married, even so when you peep at his hand, you see no ring, but he's definitely old enough to be somebody's dad.. who are you kidding, you love DILFs 

you go on and on internally struggling on if it would be morally correct to fuck a stranger—a tow truck driver—until he makes the first move for you, his hand slithering along your back to grab your hip, "where's your bathroom at? 've gotta drain the snake" 

"yeah its uh, right around the corner over there"

"thanks doll" he whispers into your ear before squeezing your hip and moving so close past you that you can feel his bulge before he slips away. you were at a loss for words. like actually your mind had went blank, what were you even supposed to do with that?

let him come back to your sprawled out naked body on the kitchen floor? but on second thought you had an even better idea, he clearly wanted you to feel that he was hard cause he feels that you're too scary to make a move. something he didn't know though is that you loved to play the long game and you could tease him all night if you had to

when he comes back, he sees you trying to reach the very top of your cabinet. you can hear his heavy foot steps stop right behind you before he rests a hand on your hips and pulls you close to his warm pelvis. "need help?" he asks. you look up at this tall, buffed up man, and he looks right back down at you

"could you hand me the paper towels up there?"

he hands them to you, but not before pressing himself against you, letting his hard-on poke between your cheeks. you could feel your heart skipping a million miles per minute, your cunt wildly throbbing between your legs, a tiny whimper escaping your lips when he backs away, leaving the paper towels in front of you

defeated, you walk back to the potatoes. how could you tease him back? oh, the bottom cabinet! you quickly plop down, and before he could notice you tug at the bottom of his jumpsuit pants, he looks down and is obviously flustered. you sat on your knees, looking at him with such ardor in your eyes "i need to get another bowl" you say while pointing towards the cabinet, a sneaky smile spreading across your face. "hm?" he says while bending down to your level, "I let you slide the first time, but I think you're forgetting somethin'"

confusion filled your face trying to figure out what it was you could've been missing until he grabs your face pulling you a bit closer to him

"where's your manners at girl?"

oh he was good at this

"what happens if i don't use 'em?"

"might need to train that pretty little mouth of yours"

"yeah? how're you gonna do that?"

he snickers at you, standing up while still holding your face in his big, calloused hand, "whatchu think?"

so there you are, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth as his hand holds the back of your head, making sure to push down when he wants to hear that slutty throat struggle to take all of him in 

“so this s’what all that staring was for?” he teases, “what a nasty girl, sucking on a stranger’s cock”

you hum contently, hands lightly grazing against his thighs as saliva collects at his base, slowly dripping onto your tiled floor

he groans while picking up the pace, “such a mess, you like the taste of it? hm? yeah you do”

you gag and hum against him, letting his angry tip bully the back of your throat. you just started, and you're already cock drunk, moaning and twisting your head around while you use your mouth to grip around his length tighter. 

he sucks air through his teeth, letting barely audible ‘fucks’ escape his breath while steadily rolling his hips into your mouth. you use your tongue to  dance around one of his throbbing veins, enjoying how it interrupts his rhythm, making him thrust faster and faster until a sudden mean pop snatches his hips away from your mouth 

he bends down to slip his tongue into your mouth, stealing the taste of his precum right from your mouth. you tongue him back a bit more eagerly, feeling around his teeth and the scar on his mouth until his lips depart 

“you’re so greedy” he teases, “didn’t your throat training teach you anything?”

“please, please kiss me toji” you didn’t think your pussy could take anymore teasing, you could feel how it beat against your squished thighs longing for his touch

he must’ve felt the same cause he stands you up on your feet and moves you on top of the island, snaking your pants off and pulling your slick cunt close to him in the process. “you gotta earn it, princess”, he taunts your clothed entrance with his tip before gracing you with one more kiss 

“put it in, please put it in” you couldn’t wait any longer and started slowly grinding yourself on the tip until, of course, a mean smack to your mound caused you to freeze. you look up at toji and see annoyance plastered on his face. you ooze at the seriousness on his face, waiting for him to say something 

“just for that, i’m not fuckin’ you”

“WHAT! no, please i’m sorry please toji im-“ he covers your mouth with one hand and moves the other towards your wet, sticky folds, collecting a bit of the slick before moving it around your pulsating clit.

he made deep circular motions on it, making you whine every time he hit the peak. your eyes rolled back, and you let him completely take over. your hips stuttering to his touch, he then moved closer, leaving kisses along your ear and down your neck, nipping at the skin 

though you didn’t know your muffled moans were making it hard for toji to stay focused on teasing you, the truth is he was about to cum earlier while you were on your knees. sitting so innocently while taking all of him in you, the way your pretty eyes would flutter at his praise or how you’d scrunch your nose when you pushed your head down more, not to mention that tongue trick you did earlier, instead of thinking about it, he decided to return the favor 

he moves down to your panties and moves them aside, covetously looking up at those same eyes that made his tip leak beads of precum. “that’s it baby, keep those pretty eyes on me,"  he starts slowly at first, his pointed tongue moving up your folds, slowly moving your legs further apart while keeping eye contact. the familiar feeling of haze started filling your mind as desperate moans echoed through your kitchen 

he groans into you, knowing the vibrations will probably make you cum faster, and he gently suckles on your wet bulb, listening to how sweetly you moan out his name. grabbing a fist full of his hair, you push him in deeper, chasing an end you didn't know toji wasn't going to let you reach just yet. 

he stops sucking and instead sticks one finger inside your drenched cunt, moving it ever so slowly while he moves a pointed tongue in swirls on your clit his finger eventually picks up the pace, so he slips two in, then three. he had a merciless tempo, curing his fingers around your g-spot just to hear those pretty little moans 

"m'gonna cum toji~" you'd whine out, but he'd rapidly shake his head against your sopping wet clit and slap your mound, telling you to wait. to say you were drowning in pleasure would be an understatement. you felt hot all over, and with every thrust, you were sure you were going to break. eventually your moans became cries for a release. he turned you into a dripping wet mess, and he loved every bit of it until, of course, you said the magic words 

"please let me cum daddy— fuck!~"

he lifts his head up almost instantly though he's still drilling his fingers through your pussy, "say that again?"

"please let me cum" you whimper, you don't know how much longer you can hold back

"nah girl, the other thing" he stands up, towering over you even as you're seating on the counter. his fingers pump into you slower but deeper, taunting your g-spot

"daddy" you whisper, he brings his other hand to your face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss loving how you moan into his mouth

"atta girl," he pulls his fingers out but the fullness is instantly replaced with his fat, rock hard cock. you felt him tear though you so easily, you desperately pull him in closer while looking at him through half lidded eyes. "look at you, so desperate for daddy's dick" he'd tease

"all fucked out n'still begging f'more" he pulled you in for another kiss and left his tongue slithering in your mouth while he pumped faster, holding you tightly as you struggled to keep up with his kisses. he moved a hand up to your face and held it in place as he tongued you, you felt a smile spread across his face as you struggled to keep it together until all you could do was wail into his mouth

his pace was harsh and unrelenting he fucked you like he was angry at you, punching your cervix with such vigor and gusto, you moaned louder practically screaming but all he did was move his mouth to your ear and whisper.

"that's it princess let it out, you're making sucha mess of yourself on me," you squeeze tighter at his words feeling your body go limp at the over stimulation, "you wanna cum on me?"

you shake your head yes almost instantaneously and he moves his head to look directly at you, moving his hand down to your clit, covering it in slick before rubbing it in circles. "go ahead," he coos, "cum on daddy's dick— sh-shit"

he keeps rolling his hips into you until you finally come to your shaky finish, leaving scratches on his skin as you try to grasp your way back into reality with toji following close behind, loudly groaning and pulling out before fisting himself over your stomach releasing thin milky shoots of cum

he holds you close to him and leaves kisses on your head before helping you off the counter, it was weird feeling the ground under you again the sudden rush of blood making your legs feel like jello

"so about your car,"

right, shit he was in here to eat FOOD and go home not fuck you

"ill probably be able to fix it by tomorrow, n'maybe come drop it back off," he says while slipping his jumpsuit back on, "unless you wanna come to mine instead”

"you'd love that wouldn't you"

"think your pussy would like it more" he teases, pulling you closer to him. he was gonna turn you on all over again until you heard the front door open

[kurokawaia]

❛ DON'T CARE !! ❜

Genin! Sasuke Uchiha X Fem!Genin!Reader

WC; 1k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no triggers apart from sasuke himself, x fem reader, reader is apart of team 7, reader is a genin, reader is a ninja

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Reader and Sasuke who are on team 7 together, with Sakura getting jealous that Sasuke prefers reader over her. Sakura always tries to butt in on their convos but Sasuke just ignores her or tells her off. 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 love your work so much 🤍🤍🤍 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You and Sasuke just finished a training session in combat so you were sweaty and gross. Although, Sasuke didn't really want you to leave him, you could feel it, that he wanted you to stay. So now, your legs swing gently from a small stone wall near the training ground. Next to you, sat Sasuke who was leant forward with his elbows propped on his knees. 

You shoot a glance over at Sasuke, who is staring out into the training field, his eyes distant. A stifled smile quivers at the corners of your mouth, his one-track mind amuses him, he's just so serious. You can't say that, though, before the sound of footsteps reaches your ears and the comfortable silence is broken by a familiar voice. "Sasuke-kun!" Sakura's overly happy voice broke the peaceful silence. 

You bite back a sigh as she sprints up, stopping right in front of the two of you. "Do you want to train with me later?" Sakura asks, eyes wide and hopeful staring only at Sasuke. You can't help but feel a slight awkwardness as she comes to the two of you, Sasuke doesn't want her here. She doesn't even glance your way, and though you're used to that, it's hard not to feel you are some sort of third wheel when she's present. 

However, Sasuke is normal, where he does not even look remotely fazed by her presence. 

Not even bothering to look up from where he sits. "No," Sasuke answers shortly, his tone uninterested. You send a sideways glance to Sakura in time to catch her face falling, though she covers well, forcing a tight smile. "B-but... we're teammates, right? It'd be good to practice together," she presses her voice sounding as if she was pleasing now.  This time, Sasuke simply lifts his head to give her a sideways glance. "If I wanted to train, I'd ask her," he replies annoyed, his head motioning towards you without missing a beat. Sakura's false smile falters, and her gaze-really catches yours for the first time, in that second, the flicker of jealousy is there in the eyes before it is hidden fast. 

"Oh, right," she mutters, thrown off clearly by Sasuke's dismissiveness which shouldn't be odd because he always does it... It isn't the first time Sakura tried to force her way into your conversations with Sasuke. She's always been relentless in ways concerning him, and that determination to be near him more often than not leaves you in this position. "Well, maybe the three of us can train together?" she attempts again. But Sasuke's having none of it. "No," he says sharply, finally twisting his head fully to look at her. "I don't want to train with you.: The bluntness hangs in the air, and you watch in discomfort as Sakura's face twists with hurt, her eyes darting briefly between you and Sasuke. "Sasuke-kun, I—" she starts, but he cuts her off.

"I want to talk to her alone," he adds.

She looks down to the ground, her cheeks red in embarrassment. 

"Oh... okay," she stammers out in barely a whisper. 

She lingers for a moment as if waiting for Sasuke to take back his words, but when nothing is said, she turns on her heel and starts to walk away, her shoulders slumped in defeat. You feel a little guilty just watching her go. "You didn't have to be that harsh," you tell him, turning back to Sasuke, an eyebrow raised at him. He shrugs. "She was being annoying," he says simply. You laugh and shake your head. "You know, there's such a thing as being nice, Sasuke." "Hn," he grunts, falling back onto his hands and tilting his head up to the sky. "It's not my problem if she can't take a hint. You roll your eyes, but can't help the small smile that plays on your lips. That's just direct, sometimes a bit too much, but honest. It's one of the reasons you're able to sit with him like this and feel utterly at ease. Unlike others, you don't have to guess what he's thinking.

But sometimes, you don't know what he's thinking, you wonder if he is going to change. "Still, you really didn't have to shut her down like that in front of me. I feel like I'm caught in the middle of your weird rivalry," you tease, crossing your arms over your chest. Sasuke utters a soft "tch," one that is barely worthy of a response in itself. He turns to you sideways. "I'd rather be here with you." The words catch in your throat, and for a moment, you're not sure if you've heard him right; he said it so nonchalantly. Still, with Sasuke, you know there's a weight attached to those words. So used to him being cold and distant from anyone else, but he's always been different from you. You let a soft smile spread across your face, and you lean into him lightly with your shoulder. "Wow, the great Uchiha Sasuke actually enjoys someone's company. What's next? You're going to start giving me compliments?" He gives you that look. "Don't push it." You giggle, falling back onto your hands once more. Sasuke shifts beside you, his arm brushing yours. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible gesture, but it set your heart racing. Neither of you does anything to pull away. You look across the training grounds to find Sakura staring at you, her face red with jealousy. "You know," you say after some time, breaking the silence, "you should try being nicer to her sometimes. She's not all bad." Sasuke says nothing at first, and for one moment you think he's just going to ignore that comment of yours. But then he speaks, quieter than a moment before. "I don't care about her." You turn your head towards him slightly, your brow furrowing a bit. "Then what do you care about? There is a long pause, Sasuke meets your gaze, his dark eyes unreadable just like they have always been. You almost think he is going to avoid the question, but then his lips open ever so slightly. "You," he says, barely above a whisper. Your heart stutters, and for once, you are at a loss for what to say. Sasuke doesn't look away, he stares into your eyes with a serious intensity that somersaults your stomach. You finally smile after ages have passed, your voice soft. "You're such a softie, Sasuke. He glares at you, his eyes flashing-but the faint blush dusting his cheeks is a dead giveaway. You laugh softly, light and easy, and he lets out a low "tch," turning his head away, not before you catch the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

Do not copy, steal, modify, use for AI, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake

[galedekarios]

one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.

not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.

he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:

Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:

Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer

[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player

he's crushed if the protag refuses:

Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it

this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.

if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:

Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it

tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.

[margotw10bis]

The Place Before the Darkness.JJK TEASER

husband!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: angst; fluff; smut; attempt of a thriller

Words: ?

Synopsis: It was love at first sight with your husband but when you find a secret phone in Jungkook's office, everything shatters as you suspect him to have an affair. However, maybe he has deeper secrets...

Warnings: none for the teaser

4 Years Ago

You've decided to relax at the hotel while the others went scuba diving.The bar of the hotel is great, just like the rest of the facilities, especially to forget how awfully lonely you are while your friend is getting married.

Yet, the relaxing time you were expecting is fading away when a man takes the seat next to yours at the bar. Your breath hitches because damn! He looks good. You are not sure you’ve ever seen a man this handsome. He is tall and his black hair is shining. He looks casual with his Hawaiian shirt and his shorts.

You’re having a hard time not staring at him but what can you say? It’s not easy taking your eyes off of him. He is attractive, too attractive.

"No scuba diving?" He asks you

You are surprised — it’s an understatement — because how the hell does he know that?! But you can’t say anything when you meet his eyes. They are so black, it’s intimidating but there is a sparkle of playfulness in them. This man is a paradox: all seems mysterious and comfortable at the same time; cold and warm; distant and kind. However, a weird feeling embraces you, just like you’ve known him all your life. Is it… love at first sight? You’ve read about it, you’ve seen it in movies but experiencing it… Wow, it’s an all other level. 

"I saw you and your group of friends yesterday at the restaurant, and this morning, I spotted them heading to the boats" He explains — your shock must have been well visible 

"You have a great memory to remember so much about strangers" You joke 

“Selective memory in fact”  He corrects with a oh-so-charming smile and you literally feel your heart melt and your cheeks burn “And I’m particularly attentive to beautiful women"

This sentence could make you ill-at-ease, it’s such a playboy thing. But the way he is sipping on his fresh beer so casually and his eyes… So honest.

"Can I invite you for diner?" He asks and you have to pinch your arm to make sure you are not dreaming 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Can I call you back?” You ask through the phone but actually don’t wait for any answer and just hang up

You were searching some documents for the assurance in your husband’s office when you found it. A phone. At first, you tried to look for some rational explanations of why your husband would hide a phone in his desk.

The latest text, from yesterday, was an address. A hotel address. It was an appointment for tomorrow. Your heart sunk as you went through the convo: over and over again, the same hotel room with different dates and hours. For four months. 

So this is it. Your husband is cheating on you. You can’t stop your crying because the pain in your chest is just unbearable. You thought that Jungkook was the love of your life when you married him three years ago. And even now, with your broken heart, you still believe he is. You haven’t thought about living without him, it can’t be possible. 

When you hear the front door and your husband asking if you’re home, your sobbing gets lourder and  you have to put your hand on your mouth to mutter it. The steps you know so well — just like you thought you knew your husband so well — are getting closer and closer. When he pushed the door, he didn’t think he would find you crying in his leather chair. The biggest tears he has seen since he knows you.

“What’s going on?" He hastily asks you, panicked that you might be hurt 

And you are indeed. You are feeling so much pain that you wonder how your heart hasn’t stop beating of how squeezed it has become. 

Once again, your husband frowns but only a second. Because his big does eyes widen at the sight of his secret device in your shaky hand. All his blood is drained from his face, making his skin look pale. He gulps but his throat feels as dry as a desert. 

“Y/N, I swear, it’s not what you think” He starts but his voice is already broken 

“So you don’t go to those rendezvous in that hotel?” You ask

Your voice has some hope in it, like you still think there is a tiny chance that your husband is not cheating on you. But a single glance at him and at his guilty face is enough to definitely break this hope.

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 26] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 500~ (in the video + picture) cw: accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, good natured teasing Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This chapter is **different**. You can read it OR watch it live! So sorry btw that the video is not embedded 😭😭🙏 a/n #2: Also this chapter is 100% inspired by this fanart by @ramvur but with Simon, instead of Price.

Chapter pre-27: Away (UPDATED!)

If you'd rather watch their text convo: CLICK HERE

It's 6 A.M. when your phone start buzzing repeatedly on the night stand next to you.

You paw at it languidly, blinking away the sleep as you attempt to unlock the phone and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

johnny: baby guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 johnny: baby johnny: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy johnny: if ye dont answer my texts 🙄 you: jesus christ johnny its 6am what are you doing up??? 😑 johnny: good morning love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! johnny: weve got training today 😙 johnny: guess what happened you: what simon: Good morning sweeheart. johnny: WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANSWERING? you: good morning si 🫶 you: wait what do u mean u were calling for me no? johnny: I MEANT SIMON HES IN THE INFIRMARY HES NOT MEANT TO BE ANSWERING johnny: HOW DO YE EVEN HAVE YOUR PHONE you: i feel like u need to stop asking how he does things you: uve known him for longer than me and im not surprised anymore you: also IN THE INFIRMARY? johnny: thats what i was coming to tell you!!!!! 🙄🙄🙄🙄 you: why did u frame it like its a good thing?????????? johnny: because he got put there by Kyle during training johnny: we were practising chokeholds and he passed out you: I STILL DONT SEE HOW THATS A GOOD THING JOHNNY johnny: HES FINE YE DON'T UNDERSTAND johnny: HE GOT ROCK HARD WHILE KYLE HAD HIS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND HIS THROAT you: WHAT??? you: tell me more 👀 johnny: 😏😏 johnny: he was wearing shorts and his cock just popped out you: LIKE OUT OUT? johnny: out out 🍆 you: wow 😮‍💨 you: did u get any pictures? 👀 johnny: i did bonnie do ye want them? 😏 johnny: even caught the look in prices and kyles faces when it happened you: send me send me send me you: wait it happened in front of them???? johnny: worse happened in front of everyone 🥴 we were training with other units you: oh shit you: that has to have been embarrassing you: is he okay though from passing out? you: johnny? you: wow imagine ignoring me kyle: johnny's a little occupied at the moment lovie! kyle: good morning btw! 😚 you: good morning ky!! 🫶 you: occupied? kyle: ghost's chasing him for telling you everything and johnny's running for his life 😭 you: 🙃 you: normal day then? kyle: normal day 🥴 you: okay then well hope the training went well kyle: it did! 😏 anyway got to go kyle: pls go back to sleep need you well rested lovie you: i will i will.

Sighing a bit, you set your phone down on the charger again and attempt to go back to sleep... unsuccessfully so.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, you find yourself grabbing the phone again and your thumb clicks on John's name in your contacts.

You don't text him often, the last time having been nearly a week before, but, right now, you felt like you should.

you: the lads just woke me up you: johnny more specifically 🙄 you: now i cant get to sleep again john: if it's any consolation john: I told him not to john: need help? you: how would u help? john: can call you and sing you a lullaby? you: pls dont john: then I'm out of ideas darling you: u could help in another way john: and what's that? 😏 you: remember how u said u had a house of ur own you: and if i ever needed a break we could go there? john: i see 😏 john: want me to take you away for the weekend darling? you: yes please

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[kinopio-writes]

Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,

A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.

Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.

Words: 727 (not including the bullet points, edited)

Warnings: Very vulgar language, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam

———

How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)

• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her

• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch

• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction

• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?

• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”

• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child

• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid

• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot

• the problem was that she’s an exterminator

• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills

• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam

• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman

• he came back with nothing

• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—

• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child

• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?

• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before

• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder

• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib

• doesn’t know how to hold it properly

• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents

• thinks he’s the best dad because of it

• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child

• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?

• nuh-uh

• sometimes forgets he has a kid

• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes

• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here

let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?

———

Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.

“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.

He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—

He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”

The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.

“OH MY GOD—”

———

Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.

“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.

Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.

“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.

Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.

Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.

Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.

———

The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.

In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.

“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.

“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”

“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.

“Ugh, yeah, so what?”

“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”

“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.

“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.

“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.

“How long have you kept this child?”

“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”

“What is its name?”

“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”

Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”

“Adam Jr.”

“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”

As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side. 

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former. 

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too. 

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk. 

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way. 

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career. 

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc. 

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor. 

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that. 

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else. 

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr. 

RJ

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it. 

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be. 

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood. 

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is. 

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie. 

The OTC is WWE. 

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone. 

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind. 

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline. 

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away. 

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity. 

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen. 

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob. 

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.” 

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs. 

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this. 

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside. 

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her. 

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No. 

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better. 

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow. 

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life. 

Failing her. 

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong. 

And she’ll fight for it. 

For him. 

For their son.

For their family. 

She has to.

[kanmom51]

This is what knowing someone is all about

JM wasn't feeling well. But he soldiered on throughout that first day.

And at night, well, quite a sleepless one, looks like things jumped up a notch and not in a good way.

And to those that are watching and don't understand the dynamics of the two it might appear that JK is being a little distant perhaps. Definitley not too talkative. Not as much as they sure want him to be.

I will say this again - what we see is edited content. JK spent the whole day with JM, the night too. And not in silence. Surprisingly (NOT) even when the cameras were off, or perhaps, like I mentioned, conversations and interactions cut out.

Another example to the cutting and editing is the conversation we get at the 50:58 minute mark. It's quite obvious that this convo, that has to do with JM getting wacked in the nose overnight, happened after the whole interaction that we get to see at 52:54 minutes. In the latter JM is wiped out, just waking up, feeling like shit (hard to hide), while in the first JM is fully awake and conversational, probably feeling a little better than before. A little better perhaps, but well awake for sure.

Top that with the fact that we know those two and how they communicate with each other. At times no need for words. Eye contact, facial expressions, a touch at times, are enough for them to know what the other is saying or feeling.

In the wake of all that, we get the little interaction in the morning.

JK is aware of the cameras, he's telling the cameras - us - that JM is "dying right now". Meaning, he's feeling REALLY bad.

And JK wants JM to be better. He prepares the medicine for JM to take and gives it to JM.

But he doesn't force him. He doesn't argue with him.

He places it in JM's hand and leaves.

Allowing JM to decide if and when to take it.

And this, my friends is it.

This is how you know just how close they are. How much they know each other. Know if you can push, insist, and if so just how much to do so.

JK wants JM to take the medicine. He tells him he needs to take it, but he doesn't stand there waiting for him to, because he knows JM. He knows that there is a good chance that JM won't want to and he isn't going to argue about it with him.

And JM doesn't.

He places the medication back on the table without taking it.

Does he take it later on? We don't know for sure, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't though. But even if he did, he did it in his own time of his own accord. JK standing over him insisting he take it at that moment would have been futile, and JK knew that!!!

Reminds me a little of JK during MOTS ON:E live online concert day 1, not rushing to JM when he was crying while doing his ments. Waiting for the camera to fan out, for his part to end, allowing him to go to JM and comfort him but in the way that JM will accept that comfort while on camera. This is how you know your person, love them, want to be with them, but at the same time allow them to be themselves, know them and how to be there for them on their terms, not yours.

JK wasn't being abrasive, he wasn't mocking JM or being uncaring. Quite the opposite.

While leaving JM to take the medication - well, to decide if to or not, he did what he can do - JK being a man of action. He went and built the stone tower. An unusually tall one.

And even if we don't know what his own wish was, seeing his remark to JM to make his wish, we can really kind of guess what it was!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Open Door 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: silverfox!Thor, side of silverfox!Loki

Summary: you're neighbour needs a little extra help after an injury but starts to expect too much of you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Thank you again for all your help,” Thor says as he shifts on the couch. His weight draws a creak from the frame as he grips the back cushion and tries to reposition himself. “I must admit, I have a hard time accepting any.” 

Your neighbour is always friendly enough. He waves or says hello or good morning, but you never really stop to chat. Not until you witnessed his avalanche of groceries as he attempted to balance his bag between his crutches. It was too heart-rending a scene to ignore. 

Despite his size, you got him inside. He grunts and you rush over to help prop his leg up on a pillow. He grits as you gently lay the cast on the fluffy bundle. He groans and leans back against the armrest. 

“Ah, the shame,” he decries dramatically. 

“I don’t mind,” you insist. “Really. I couldn’t just watch you struggle.” 

“Too sweet,” he praises, his silver hair glinting in the low lamp light. “I didn’t know there were still neighbourly neighbours.” 

“Well, I’m not that nice,” you assure him. “I got all your groceries away and you have your tea. I gotta get back to my desk. Work.” 

“Ah yes, of course, of course,” he waves you off, “I could not infringe further on your day.” 

“It’s no trouble. You can text me,” you assure him. The soft smell of chickory wafts in the dim air. 

Your eyes wander as you make your retreat. The decor is a blend of brass and walnut. Warm in a visual way. It’s a space that has been long lived in. 

“Before I go, you’re good?” You ask as you stop in the doorway. 

“I’m wonderful,” he assures you. “You’ve already done too much. Once I’m back on my feet, I promise I will be certain to repay you.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you assure. 

“Says you,” he counters. 

You chuckle and leave him. You can’t be too bothered by the interruption. Your work is tedious and most of it solitary. Working from home is flexible and freeing, but it can just as often be constraining. 

After smelling the spicy strain of tea you brewed for Thor, you’re in the mind for a cup of your own. Apple chamomile. Calming but not tiring. 

You sit and go back to work. It’s a fair bit of excitement in the usually dulcet neighbourhood. You sink back into the monotonous tasks. Check, check, check. Done, done, done. But why is that doing that? Ugh, it’s not supposed to look that way. 

Your alarm goes off, notifying you that your day is fifteen minutes from over. It’s a necessary reminder otherwise you’ll work three hours over and not realise. You wrap up your work and leave yourself notes for what needs to be done the next day. 

You yawn and grab your empty mug and phone and go back to the kitchen. Your phone vibes once. A missed message. You unlock it and check the waiting text. It’s your neighbour. Sent thirty minutes ago. 

You tap on the convo and frown. There’s only the picture of a ceiling and the edge of the wall. Oh, that can’t be good. 

You hurry to the front door and step into your shoes. You shuffle down the steps, slightly off-kilter, and cross the street. You get to Thor’s porch and knock, breathless as you wait for an answer. 

“Brother, is that you?” He calls from within. 

“No, uh, it’s me,” you say back through the door. 

“Yes, I figured you were hard at work.” 

“Can I come in?” 

“Please,” he hollers back. 

You turn the handle and find him in the entryway, lodged in the alcove beside the stairs awkwardly. You want to ask what happened but you’re sure he wouldn’t want to recount that story. You come forward and tuck your phone away. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I got restless. Tried to do a bit of dusting,” he looks at the feather duster on the other side of the hallway. “I didn’t realise it was such tight squeeze and...” he wiggles his shoulders between the wall and the cub shelf that houses various shoes, boots, and accessories. “I anchored the thing you see. It’s not giving.” 

“Oh,” your brows ripple. It’s a strange situation and you’re not sure you’re strong enough to help. “Right...” 

“You could get a screwdriver. I can reach to undo the anchors, at least enough to get free, I think,” he says. 

“Right, a screwdriver,” you nod. 

“In the utility cupboard. Right by the back door,” he instructs. 

You give him one last look. He can’t be comfortable. He’s a big man and his shoulders are cramped between the small space. His leg is also jutted out in the cast as his other is bent to take pressure off. 

You go to the backdoor and find the dark wooden cabinet mounted on the wall. You open it and take out the small toolbox. You bring it back to Thor as he groans again. 

“Star,” he says, “please.” 

“Sure,” you shuffle through and hand him the star driver. 

“Great,” he grunts and raises his arm up awkwardly. He twists as best he can and angles his hand toward the shelf. He fumbles and knocks against the screw. He growls in frustration. “Too tight.” 

Before you can response, a voice drifts through the open door. “First, I must come and fetch you off the basement floor, and I’ve come again to save you from yourself.” The dark-haired man with streaks of silver in his long locks proclaims, unimpressed. “Oh, and I see someone has beaten me to it. What a wonderful detour this has been.” 

“Brother, wait,” Thor says. “You can help. I’m... stuck. I’m afraid it might be a two-person job, as it were.” 

“Certainly, would be,” the man drones as he comes closer. “You hired a nurse?” 

“Neighbour,” Thor supplies and reaches up. “Please, I’m losing feeling in my tailbone.” 

“Perhaps in your brain too,” the man quips. 

“Right,” Thor wiggles his hands impatiently. 

You take his right and the man takes his other. Thor counts and you haul him up onto one foot. He’s so big, he nearly falls into you but the other man catches him by his shoulder. They are almost of a height but the man with the black in his hair is much thinner. 

“You should consider hired help,” his brother reprimands. 

“I am not helpless.” 

“Sure not.” 

“Um, thanks,” you say to the man. He looks down his nose at you. 

“Loki,” he offers his hand formerly, “the brother. I should apologise on his behalf. He can be overly needy.” 

“I’m just glad he’s fine,” you say. 

“Mm,” the man hums and his eyes slit skeptically, “well, then, brother, do I need to stay and chaperone or can I be on my way?” 

“Go,” Thor huffs in agitation, “thank you both for your help.” He faces you in particular, “I owe you.” 

“As ever,” Loki agrees and spins on his heel. 

You smile at Thor, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’ve spent enough of your time and effort,” he gently squeezes your shoulder, “I will be sure to use my crutch next time.” 

[ryansrain]

I'm literally obsessed with the visual novel keyframes right now. It's so good!! The writing is amazing and the characters are even better. The fact that it takes place throughout 2 years of college and not just a week is so refreshing!

I can't stop thinking about the boyssss

Theories and things I've noticed:

None of the boys seem to like being the center of attention. Jamie is forcefully thrown into it by his little "groupies" and absolutely hates it. The man hid in a bunch of flowers to get away. He just wants to be left alone!

Percy will do his little flirty/jokey thing and have an audience for the bit but that's about it. When it comes to talking about himself or getting told he's doing a good thing/(mc trying to break down his walls) he hates it. Mc tells him it's sweet he shares his food so Jamie will eat something he likes, Percy brushes it off. Mc thinks it's cute that Percy wants to reward Elio for doing a good thing he literally tries to stomp on ur toes! Dude loves to joke around with u but hates to get deep and actually acknowledge the good things he does. Percy is very comfortable talking about Elio and tends to push the conversation on to him so he doesn't have to talk about himself. When ur on the green getting plants in the study event there's an option to ask Percy if he's done anything he likes with Elio. He tries to dodge the question by saying no but then Elio mentions a comic convention they went to. AGAIN this man tried to brush it off saying it wasn't a big deal. But Elio comes in clutch like the best boy he is and starts to talk more about it. And wat does Percy do? He defects like he does everything and makes a joke and the convo is kinnda over. He also pushes aside the things he wants in favor of what his friends want. Which is sweet but TELL ME WAT U LIKE SIR.

Elio does a LOT of good deeds but doesn't like everyone to make a big fuss about it. He just wants to return the wallet peace! (Which I totally get. If someone tried to sing me a song because I returned the wallet I might just drop it back on the floor.) Elio is a middle child of a huge family. Middle children tend to not get alot of attention from parents compared to the youngest and oldest. I love and want to know more! GIVE US DEEP CONVERSATIONS WITH ELIO AND LET HIM SHOW US THE STARS

Jamie is so funny I love all his puns.

Elio is so cute and way to biteable.

How I think the boys will react when they notice they have feelings for mc.

Jamie might not notice at first. He's never really been interested in relationships until mc. So he might have a hard time knowing the difference between platonic feelings and romantic. But when he does figure out it's romantic he'll try and give subtle hints that he's interested to see if u are as well.

Elio will be similar in the way of not knowing between platonic and romantic right away. He's probably going to be like, "mc is such a good friend, I just want to be around them all the time and maybe kiss a little bit. ...wait wat?" We know from the blank house asks that elio has never been in a relationship and doesn't know that anyone has ever liked him in a romantic way. I think this will make him a little worried that mc doesn't like him back. Now if mc doesn't identify as a woman Elio is going to be super confused. Blank house has said that mc is going to be elios gay awakening. He saw himself as straight before mc but 100% was an ally( u cannot make me believe different.) I think he's ganna struggle with that a bit and his friends will 100% know he likes mc before he does. When elio figures himself out and is comfortable its ganna be complete puppy love and adorable. But again he will be in denial for a bit.

Now Percy. He is going to do whatever he can to make himself believe he doesn't like mc romantically. Or at least do his best to hide them. This man is already trying not to tell mc anything about himself. Mc is going to break down his wall no matter how long it takes. I don't think Percy lovers will go down without a fight. I suspect he might be a little put off by relationships. We know from the game that his parents are divorced. He mentions in the rainy day event the paints he has r from his stepdad. He may have been around alot of fighting and toxic relationships at home. This is probably why he spent so much time at elios house. He might not think he can have a healthy relationship or just doesn't know how. Maybe if things r going really well with mc it scares him because "all romantic relationships end badly, maybe we should have just stayed friends, I think I'm in love with them and that's terrifying I dunno how to handle this." He might have a breakdown and break up with them. He's had a romantic relationship in the past and we don't know how that one went but I'm guessing it was similar or maybe the partner did something bad and that put him off. I dunno. This is all just assuming he's the one that gets the confirmed break up. We've all collectively agreed it's not Elio. It could be Jamie but I just don't see it because in an ask it sounded like u had the option to get back together. The only way I can see Jamie breaking up with mc (assuming their relationship is going well) is him going back to Sweden. Maybe Percy was expecting his and mcs romantic relationship to stay casual but when it started to get serious he started to over think everything and broke it off.. maybe I dunno. In his profile it says he has a rosey outlook on life which makes me think maybe the break up isn't his? I need to know! This Kickstarter needs to get fully funded!! 🥹

It would be hilarious if the break up was just Percy calling mc and being like, "hey don't take this the wrong way but T Swifty just dropped a new album so I'm ganna need u to break up with me for at least 60 minutes so I can experience her music to the fullest." Then u hear a knock on ur door exactly 70 minutes later and he's got food for both of u and he does a little bit about u taking him back. And how could u break up with him over T Swifty that's so crazy.

[miumura]

💭 — NI-KI AS YOUR BOYFRIEND !

my friends chose riki, so i’m doing a riki ver 🫶 ty sillies !!!

warnings : mentions of pet names “babe/love”, mentions of kissing, implies fem!reader on one part, but the rest are gender neutral!

— seeks to your comfort. he isn’t too expressive with his thoughts, yet he finds himself telling you everything that was hard on him. when he’s down, he immediately wants to be in your embrace, as you would be willing to help him and play with his hair. he’s just that comfortable of showing that side of his to you, knowing you wouldn’t judge him <3

— definitely loves teasing. he loves joking around with his love ones, hence the amount of pranks he pulls on you. of course, he would always apologize while laughing at you. you get him back real good though!!

— loves taking silly pictures of you with him. like you both could be posing randomly and giggle about each other for a long period of time. he has a whole album of photos of you and him ! he likes going through the album when he’s gone and missing you a lot </3

— he lives for praise. i feel like he would feel extremely happy when you reassure him that he’s the best of the best. your compliments are the only ones he could ever think about. whenever he’s having a hard time, he just thinks of you, knowing you’d be cheering him on so hard right now.

— prefers action over words. instead of giving daily affirmations, he tries comforting you with touch. he doesn’t want to slip up when speaking, so he prefers doing little things like playing w/ your hands or just hugging. his touch is used to try to make you remember that he will always be by your side :)

— plus, why affirmations if you know he’s yours and you are his? but, if you’re someone who prefers that, he would try to sneak a few daily, just to make you happy :]

— starting off the relationship, it might be a little awkward bc he doesn’t know what to do!! you might have to be the first to initiate, or he just invites you to do whatever he’s doing, making you two bond <3

— if he’s been with you for a while, he’s always thinking about a second person, it’s become a habit. he goes shopping, would you like this as well? he’s out with the others, would you enjoy this trip too? he’s dancing, you’d be excited to see the choreography he made right? he’s just the sweetest </3

— loves texting you! sure, he loves calling, but texting is his thing. it’s more easy to come up with convos and not having to wait awkwardly on the other line. def a spam texter, but don’t mind him, he just wants to share everything w/ you :(

— likes hugging you from behind bc it scares you LMAO. like he could just suddenly appear and jump on your back, making you be all shocked

— “what the heck, ki?” “what? i can’t hug my gee eff now??”

— if you guys are real comfortable w/ each other, expect you guys clinging 24/7. watching tv? you’re holding him or you have each other’s legs on the other. sleeping? you’re cuddling. eating? he’s sitting next to you just so your shoulders touch. he loves you okay!!!

— sure, he got all that height, but loves being a little spoon! he’s fine w/ being the big spoon and sometimes ask to be one himself, but being the little spoon is his way of thinking that you’re always going to be with him no matter what. and bc you guys always hug/cuddle, he can’t sleep by myself without holding something. (you did that to him.)

— would blush every time you kiss him. like if he runs away, leaving a peck on your cheek, what do you think he acts under your touch?! like if you suddenly just go near him and give him a peck on the cheek, he’s all giddy and smiling to himself. oh, you can DEFINITELY feel him get red when you kiss him all over his face. begs you to do the lipstick trend on tiktok just for the kisses.

— probably giddy when you say “i love you” to him. he tries to keep his cool in front of the others when he hears you say it to him. (ps: it doesn’t work because he’s always smiling like a big dork. your dork only is something he would say.)

— “ooo, look at our riki all grown up!” “jake, i WILL not—” you can imagine how it ends up <3

— not too big on pet names, maybe only uses it to tease you. if he were to use them, babe/love would be his go to.

— probably loves drawing/tracing your arms or legs when he’s bored. don’t be shocked if half of your leg is filled with HIS doodles. can you imagine a family of shin-chans… oml…

— would love teaching you. if you come from a different culture, he would love teaching you his. but if you’re from the same, you’d bond over that. he will js have to find something else to teach you !!!

— you guys make playlists together and rotate the three (one made for you, one made for him, one made by both of you) to listen to. leads to a bunch of singing and dancing <3

💭 — i only have 3 members to do after this omg..wonder who i should do next

ENHA PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @tnyhees @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee

[hyunsvngs]

heyyyy how abt something based on the convo we’re literally having right now on discord about virgin jisung trying to finger you for the first time and accidentally slipping it in your ass instead

oh yeah. i think jisung would be too confident during this situation considering it's his first time fingering a girl. he'd have you spread open on his bed, him in just his boxers and you fully naked - because he insisted on seeing your tits - and you're just laying there, impatiently waiting.

he's blushing, fingertips trailing to inbetween your legs. "are you sure you're-"

"baby, shut up," he insists, fingers swiping through your folds. "let me make you feel good, yeah? i will definitely be a natural."

you giggle, and jisung smiles softly back at you. he's so cute, with messy brown hair, pouty cheeks and that cute little mole on his neck. you're shocked no one's tried to fuck him sooner because you couldn't wait another second before jumping his bones, in all honesty.

his fingers move downwards, down to your pussy hole and then - past it? you gasp when his fingertips trail over your asshole, the puckered rim clenching. his finger glides into your asshole, lubed up from your pussy and honestly, not uncomfortable but just... surprising? you gasp, hips canting upwards, and jisung smirks.

his voice is low and raspy when he speaks, lips pressed against your earlobe. "yeah? that feel good in your pussy?"

"um, j-ji," you stutter when his finger just fucking speeds up, pressing against the walls of your hole that should have honestly not been touched this early. it feels so delicious you're not even sure you want to tell him, but you have to if he's going to learn. "ji, baby, that's my asshole."

instead of halting his movements, he moans, loud and unabashed. "really, baby? you'll let me finger your asshole? god, god, fuck! that's so hot, baby, so hot, i-" he's humping his cock against your leg, thick and hard and leaking through the damn fabric and you're moaning as if he was in the right hole all along.

"jisung, baby, your finger is in my ass right now. you are fingering my ass right now."

you turn to gauge his reaction. he blinks, shocked, and his hips halt against your leg. he stares down at your pussy incriminatingly, and then he's giggling, cheeks burning crimson.

"ah, yeah. that makes sense," he giggles again, shaking his head in disbelief. "sorry, i'll just, uh- i'll- i'll try again. i'll do it properly this time."

when his wrist starts to move, withdrawing the finger from your asshole, you can't help but become frantic. your hand grips his wrist and he tilts his head in question, making that little "oh?" sound he does whenever he's confused.

"you- jisung, you have two hands, do you think you can do both?" you ask, letting your thighs fall apart further. he glues his eyes to your pussy, only able to see your mound and your swollen, aching clit peeking through your folds, but he still looks at it with stars in his eyes as if it's the best damn thing he's ever seen. "it was good. i kinda want more, but i also want something in my pussy, and-"

"jesus, you're so fuckin' hot, baby," jisung whines, shifting down the bed impatiently. he's literally pitching a tent in his pants, chubby length leaking pearlescent drops of precum through the fabric. you watch him position between your legs, pushing his finger back into your asshole and using his thumb to stroke over your clit. the movement makes you keen, hips bucking up, and he lets out an "ah" of realisation. "god, this does make sense now. pussy's so pretty, baby, you've got me so fucking hard. fuck, will you- will you let me fuck your ass, too? after your pussy, obviously, i just-"

"yes, jisung," you wail, nodding. "you can do whatever you want to me, just fucking finger me, please, please!"

two digits from his spare hand sink into your core, long and knobby and pressing right against every spot you need him to. you gasp, head rolling back against the pillow, and he curves his fingers up diligently, pumping the digit in your asshole at a steady pace. your eyes flutter shut and you let out a loud moan, thighs clenching at the pleasure. jisung sighs deeply, and you presume he's happy with your reaction.

"that's so good, honey, just like that! y-you're so good at that, baby, so good," you coo, trying to you're gonna cum. you're gonna cum embarrassingly quick from someone fingering you, and he's never even fucking done it before.

"this pussy's so wet, my baby, oh my god... baby, i can't wait til i'm inside, gonna bust my fuckin' load in you over and over, and i'm gonna- oh, my baby," jisung's babbling, fingers pressing into your g-spot over and over. you can't stop clenching, your own fingers digging into the pillow as you whine and cant your hips into his touch, pussy gushing down to his knuckles. "fuck, will you let me? will you let me fill you up, please? please, god i'll beg, i'll beg!"

"yeah, y-yeah, you can fill me up, so good for me sungie," your voice is gravelly, distressed, and when your eyes finally open, you notice jisung is humping the bed, drool covering his bottom lip. his eyes are almost crosseyed watching where his fingers delve into you. the visual is so filthy, so raw and so jisung that your toes curl with the beginning of your orgasm, hand moving to grab the sheets beneath you.

"i'm cumming, baby, don't stop," you whine, head thrashing on the pillows. jisung moans, nodding eagerly. "i'm- don't stop, baby, such a good boy for me, i'm gonna cum-"

"ah, ah, don't- i'm gonna cum in my pants, don't call me that," jisung wails, his legs thrashing around behind him. his hips speed up though, and so do his fingers, curling against your gspot and fucking your asshole open until you're gushing with a full body shake and a high pitched moan around his fingers. "fuck, fuck! so pretty when you cum. so pretty, pretty baby, i can't fucking handle it, i can't, i-"

you sit up, chest heaving and blotchy pink when his fingers finally slip out of you. jisung is still humping the bed, noises getting louder and more distressed and you card your fingers through his hair. his head tilts upwards, eyes round and unfocused with tears as he whines.

"you looked so good," he says, fingers gripping the sheets. "so good, so good, i'm gonna- can i? please? can i cum?"

oh god, he's even asking you? you coo, thumb swiping over his bottom lip. "of course you can, you were such a good boy. made me cum so hard, yeah? cum for me."

[sunshine-theseus]

Translation | Mayra Ramírez x Reader

Words: 3.6

Summary: your career takes a hit but Mayra is there to lift you back up

Warnings: pitch violence, Maya le Tissier and ManU is not nice, bad Spanish – as usual, long convos will be in English but implied they’re actually speaking Spanish, sorry I feel like this one is all over the place for some reason

It was hard to hear what was being said over the chants and screams from the stands. It was harder to try and reply for both parties.

I hadn’t seen what happened. The ball was making its way down the pitch one moment and the next moment the whistle was blown and everyone rushed to the sidelines, opposing the medics rushing out. Mayra Ramírez, Chelsea’s mind-blowing new signing, was laying on the ground, clearly in pain.

I watched as the medics tried to say something to the girl, but she was clearly only growing frustrated as neither understood the other. That’s when I decided to make my way over to the group, hoping to help with whatever issue had occurred.

“¿Necesitas ayuda para traducir?” (do you need help translating?) I ask the Colombian as I kneel next to her.

I get a stiff nod in return, her eyes still clenched tightly as she tries to breathe through the pain.

“What do you need to tell her?” I turn my head to the medics across from me.

“We need to check for any signs of a concussion. We need her eyes open.”

“Ellas necesitan que abras tus ojos chica” with a few blinks, her eyes finally open.

“Mi hombro que duele mucho” (my shoulder hurts a lot) Mayra whispers in my ear, tapping her left shoulder, and I relay the message to the medic without the bag.

I offer a hand for comfort and she takes it while they manipulate her shoulder, seeing if there is any real damage or if it’s just superficial. As we wait I find myself asking what happened. She recounts the body check from my teammate, Maya, and I make a mental reminder to have a word with her after the game.

“She’s okay but that girl could have done some bad damage with the hit she made. If she feels good, she’s safe to continue. I’d ask you to keep an eye on your teammate, she’s had it out for Mayra the whole game.” I tell Mayra she’s been given the okay to continue if she feels she can, and I help her up. She thanks me and gives me a hug before making her way to the sideline, waiting to be called back on by the ref.

“What was that all about?” the named devil approaches me as we take our positions to continue the game.

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a dick for the rest of the game yeah? If you can help it for once.” I continue on my way to stand in position to kick the game back off, leaving her with a dropped jaw.

~

We’re in the 72’ minute and I think my small lecture actually gets through to the defender. She hadn’t made a move on Mayra or any other Chelsea player since. But right as the ball makes its way toward the opposing pair, both fighting for possession, I watch as Maya elbows Mayra in the face. Hard. No whistle is blown, but I still find my feet marching toward her, an anger growing in the pit of my stomach. I’m sick of this shit.

“What the fuck did I tell you!?” I can feel as all eyes begin to focus on me and the commotion I’m causing.

She looks scared and I almost turn right around and continue with the game, but then I glance behind her and see Mayra hunched over, grabbing her nose.

“I said ‘don’t be a dick’ didn’t I!? So why aren’t you listening to your captain Le Tissier?” by now I’ve reached her, so I shove her to further my point.

“I’m playing the fucking game. Captain.”

“No! You’re targeting Ramírez and risking other players’ health. We’ve talked about this behaviour before, and I thought we had it sorted. I’m talking to Skinner and you’re going to find yourself on the bench for a long fucking time. Until you prove you’ve learnt your lesson. Is that fucking clear?” I continue to stalk toward her as she backs away, seething through my teeth as I whisper in her ear.

She barely nods in return, but with one more light shove to her shoulders, I turn around to check on Mayra. I don’t even get a step away before hands are pressed against my spine and I’m pushed forward. I manage to catch myself before I fall and turn back toward my teammate as I readjust myself. Her fist is already swinging at me and connects with my mouth instantly, followed by a boot to the stomach. In the back of my mind, I hear the whistles of multiple officials and screams of both Chelsea and United players and fans, but none of that processes as I punch her cheek.

Maya is pressed up against the goal post at this point, Mary watching from the box, seemingly not knowing how to break up the fight. The boot to my stomach had admittedly winded me and my lungs were struggling to fill up as I grip the collar of her jersey and push her up against the metal. My hope is that retraining her long enough will manage to calm her down enough to talk, but she manages enough leverage to headbutt me in the nose.

The blood from my definitely broken nose mixes with the blood from my split lip in my mouth and I accidentally choke on it. I let Maya’s jersey go as I bend over, retching up more blood and trying to gasp through it. I can feel players from both teams separating us and trying to help while we wait for medics to make their way over, but I collapse onto my knees before they can get me very far.

The next thing I know, my vision goes black

~~~~~

I know I wasn’t out for long because the final minutes of the game are still being streamed to the TV in the corner of the medical room. Unfortunately, my face and stomach still ache, and I’m very aware of the dried blood that has seemed to cover my chin, neck and most of the front of my jersey. I can feel the stitches that have been used to close my lip as my tongue passes over them.

I take a moment to study the rest of the room. No Maya, wouldn’t be surprised if she managed to snake her way into finishing the game. I clearly didn’t punch her hard enough. I’d do anything to escape the club at this point. A shitty coach and shitty teammates and especially shitty oversight. Send me back to Madrid at this point.

It’s always easy to know the game has ended because the hall echoes with boot studs as groups of players make their way to their locker rooms. I watch red shirts pass by first, loud chatter between them. Not a single one pops their head in to see how I’m doing. So much for being a good captain.

A sea of blue follows, and I find my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as many of the players stop momentarily to thank me for standing up for their striker. How did one of my team’s biggest rivals care about me more than my own team?

Mayra lingers at the door as she finishes a conversation in broken English with Emma Hayes, then silently makes her way in. She takes a seat in the shitty plastic chair beside me and takes one look at my face and cringes.

“¿Es tan malo?” (is it that bad?)

“Sí.” She lets out a small laugh with her answer

“Gracias por lo que hiciste ahí fuera” (thanks for what you did out there)

“No te mereces esa mierda. y estoy harto de sus payasadas” (You don't deserve that shit. and I'm sick of her antics).

She doesn’t say anything in return, simply resting her hand on mine. That same warm feeling I felt when she held my hand as I translated for her on the pitch returns, swelling in the pit of my stomach.

I find comfort in the simple touch for as long as we sit there, before deciding it’s probably getting quite late and both of us obviously need some cleaning up. I don’t see her again before the blues get back on their bus to London and I drive back to a cold and empty apartment.

~~~~~

So I was suspended from the next match. And am still too injured for the one following that. In addition I’ve been too injured to complete any extensive training. Who knew a studs-up kick to the stomach and 2 hard punches to the face causing a relatively large amount of bleeding would be this bad?

Of course Maya served a one match ban, but she suffered no other consequences. People on twitter were outraged. At who? Well that depends on which side you look at. A lot of Chelsea fans had put aside any dislike they had for me and had been thanking me for finally standing up against the aggressive behaviour shown toward Mayra since her move. Some going as far to say they wished I realised I could do much better than United.

I wasn’t one to stroke my ego, but I definitely agreed with that.

United fans had not taken so kindly to the events. I’d been called a lot of things in my career. Slurs, misogynistic names, shit nicknames, they were all quite common. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less coming from the fans who are supposed to support you.

I’d spent the good part of my forced time off crying in bed and trying to ease some of the pain. No one had heard from me in 10 days, including family and friends asking if I was doing okay. I’d gotten DMs from players on other teams checking in and giving me their support as well. I think some of them started getting worried when they checked with my teammates, none of which had checked on me, and other players and no one had so much as heard a peep.

Then, on day 11, there was an eruption. The silent world was engulfed by blames and no one saw it coming.

Manchester United Women have just announced the abrupt and immediate departure of Captain Y/N L/N after 3½ years at the club

Boy did that have the messages rolling in, concern taking over like a plague. Concern about what went down behind scenes that would cause their captain to leave with immediate effect this close to the end of the season. Concern for what this meant for the rest of the team. Concern for where I was heading next. Concern for my well-being. Lots and lots of concern for why I had suddenly vanished from the face of the earth.

I definitely wasn’t expecting a loud knock on my door at 4 in the afternoon. Barely navigating through the packed boxes, I manage a peak through the peephole before the person knocks again.

Mayra Ramírez is stood on the other side of my door, rocking back and forth on her feet, patiently waiting for someone to answer.

I swing it open without much thought about the fact I’m in relatively shit clothes and I’ve probably gone a few too many days without washing my hair. I also momentarily forget the giant bruises that still are yet to heal all over my body as I pull her into a tight hug. I’m not sure why I do it. The first and last time we talked was that dreaded match, but having someone physically in front of me makes something deep inside of me snap.

I begin crying right there on the edge of my driveway as the Colombian just rocks us side to side in a soothing motion.

She eventually pulls away to help move us toward the living room, allowing me to rest against her as I try to catch my breath.

“¿Estas bien? ¿qué pasó?” (are you okay? what happened?).

“Allí no le agradaba a nadie, especialmente después del partido. Los superiores dijeron que tenía que irme inmediatamente. No tengo a donde ir.” (Nobody liked me there, especially after the game. The superiors said I had to leave immediately. I have nowhere to go). I’d cried so much in the past week that there were barely any tears left. I was also rather dehydrated. I had not done anything but pack my stuff into boxes and cry.

She didn’t prod any further as I leant against her again, my eyes beginning to droop.

“Todo va a estar bien” (everything will be okay) she whispers in my ear.

~

I don’t know how long I’m asleep for, but it can’t be more than an hour or two because the sun is still high in the sky and Mayra hasn’t felt the need to move from beneath me. My head resting in her lap with her hands twisting the ends of my hair as she scrolls on her phone are the only signs of passing time. When she doesn’t immediately notice my eyes staring up at her, I take a moment to admire her.

The light curls in her hair falling over her shoulder. The soft smile that seemingly always graced her lips. The way her eyes are like pools of burnt umber, so warm and kind, dragging you in. the freckles that were spaced across her face like stars in the dark night sky. A natural beauty that I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

“Why are you here?” the question is broken up by the dryness in my throat.

“No one has seen or heard from you in a week and then it is suddenly announced you are leaving Manchester immediately. I was worried.”

“But why? We’ve only spoken once.” The thought of how she find my place doesn’t even cross my mind.

“You risked a lot for me that game, clearly including your place in your team. I want to repay you. And I care about you.” Perhaps it was the drowsiness that was still blanketed over my brain, but there was something in her eyes that made it feel like her words held more meaning behind them than she’d presented me with.

I finally stand up, making my way to the kitchen. I offer Mayra a tea, but she expresses her disgust with the drink before I can finish my breath.

“Why are you packing?”

“I’m moving.”

“Where?” I pause at the question. There were a lot of things I had answers for, but this was not one of those things. I had no idea where I was heading. Maybe back home to Madrid? Somewhere else in England? I’m sure if I bothered checking my email I’ll have had multiple offers since the announcement this morning.

I can feel as her frame approaches and towers over me. Her presence is calming and I take a breath.

“I don’t know.” My eyes begin to burn again, new tears welling up against my waterline when she turns me to face her and wraps her arms around me. It’s almost identical to earlier but now I’m just tired of it all.

~~~~~

It’s not until 5 weeks later that I find myself dragging my boxes into a new place. Well new for me, relatively old now for Mayra. The classic English brick was inescapable but the girl had somehow managed to capture and essence of Colombia, and subsequentially Spain. I didn’t really care for remembering my home but there was a comfort within the space that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“La lavandería está al final del pasillo si quieres lavar tu kit.” (The laundry room is down the hall if you want to wash your kit). Mayra points to the door after we finish unpacking most of the boxes.

In the mess of packing up almost 4 years of my life in Manchester and moving it down to London, I’d almost forgotten about the new kits folded neatly in their own box, tucked tightly into the corner of the room. Honestly the thought of even opening the lid made me uneasy, even though I would not be wearing them any time soon. It wasn’t particularly bad type of nausea, just a “I don’t know if I’m ready for this change” type. Of course Mayra could sense that.

We’d grown really close over the past month, spending a lot of time on calls. They often involved me helping her practice English and her helping me sort out the move. And a lot of dropping subtle hints.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew very quickly that I liked her a lot and I noticed her blushing and side glances rather easily. I wasn’t sure if she was clueless to her own feelings and my own or if she didn’t want to approach the subject. That’s why, on my first visit down to London to discuss contracts and to watch Chelsea’s last home game, I told her how I felt.

It wasn’t anything big, a homecooked meal and some wine that wasn’t particularly good. We were sat on the balcony, the sun barely resting on the horizon, a moment imprinted in my brain.

“Realmente me gustas” (I really like you). I had a whole speech planned, admitting what I’d been feeling over the weeks, but no other words came out. All she did was lean across the table and press her lips against mine and that was that.

That’s how we landed here. The new kit is spiralling in the washing machine as we sing loudly to the music playing over the speaker, dancing around the kitchen, drowning out the noises. The house is filled with the smell of paella de pollo and puchero santafereño and other Spanish and Colombian dishes, cooking or cooling off, as we work on arepas.

Mayra tries to show me how to flatten the dough out on the pan, then flip it with my hand. I approach the stove with a small ball of dough, ready to replicate her actions, when she wraps her arms around my waist. She places her larger hands over my own and manipulates them to follow the instructions she whispers in my ear.

“And now you flip it.” With that, I try to hook my fingers beneath it to turn it over.

With just my luck, my hand sits at the wrong angel, and my wrist and knuckles rest against the burning hot pan. My hand recoils and Mayra is dragging me to the sink to run it under cold water before I can even process the pain.

“Fucking shit! How do you do that?” the burn definitely isn’t that bad, but I continue to hold it under the tap while Mayra goes back to the pan and flips it with ease, answering me with a shrug and a cheeky side smile.

“Well you only have to make… like 45 more before the girls get here.”

“Noo mi amor just try one more time. I believe in you” She pouts her bottom lip and looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes and reaches for my hand. She presses kisses to each of my knuckles and my wrist.

“Fine, but if I burn my fingers one more time I’m sitting in the corner and letting you do all the work.” I let out a huff as I take a new ball of dough and roll it between my hands.

Mayra wraps her arms around my waist again but leaves them there, watching as I meticulously push the dough around on the pan. When she tells me it’s time to flip it, I pinch at the top edge and quickly turn it over. No contact with the pan is made.

Proud of my success I quickly spin around and kiss her. Cheshire-like grins spread across both our faces as our foreheads rest against each other, enjoying the moment.

Mayra was a lot more domestic and much more of a homebody than I’d originally thought. She enjoyed staying in and making homecooked meals together most nights, cuddling on the couch and watching a show or movie as the moon rises higher in the sky. But I loved that about her. It was never boring to just exist in the same space as her, she was too perfect.

~

The Chelsea girls begin to arrive about half an hour later. Niamh, Cat and Maika are the first, and instantly start helping me set up the table, chatting about their luck in the last game of the season. A 6-0 victory against Manchester United that won them the league.

Emma arrives not much later with Hannah, Aggie, Sam and Kristie in tow. I send Mayra out to greet and talk with her teammates and start to add finishing touches on some of the dishes.

Everyone has arrived and all the food is laid out across the tables pushed together in the garden. I sit down next to Mayra as she talks with Erin, who is trying to improve her Spanish, and link our hands together on top of the table. I play with the gold ring on her finger as I look at everyone around me. Smiles and laughs, a friendship so close it’s basically a family, feeling safe with each other.

No club I’ve ever played at was this close, but they were all so excited and quick to pull me in and love me like I’ve been here for years.

I look at Mayra again. The golden light of the sun turns her eyes into pools of whiskey and her skin glows. Those freckles I love have become more prominent in recent summer days. Her laugh makes my heart burst.

“Te amo cariño mio” (I love you my darling) I whisper in her ear as I rest my head on her shoulder, a smile glued to my face.

Her lips lightly press to my forehead.

“Te amo mucho”

[jolalibrary]

little cute things to remember (because it’s been a while since we’ve done this):

✨ you’re more that the notes or the followers you get: outside of the obvious, sometimes a fic is a grower (it’ll find people in time) and sometimes it’s because people are storing your work away ready to read when they need comfort. your worth isn’t attached to your numbers, it’s your storytelling, your soul and kindness. plus, if you love it, that’s one super fan—and anyone else is a bonus.

🌙 you don’t have to write X to fit in/be seen: just like we don’t eat the same meal every day, people’s interests change. what is popular changes, but what doesn’t change is what makes you happy. so, write that because that means your heart will be in it.

🌾 it’s okay to be nervous about connecting with people you admire: but I promise it’ll be worth it. work up to it, take the time you need, but I promise (from someone who is a chronic worrier and big ball of anxiety) everyone will be just as thrilled to hear from you, as you are to hear from them.

🪴 your process is your process, own it: I see people worry about not posting enough, and those who worry they post too much. your process, your writing, your blog at the end of the day, is yours. if people don’t like it, they know where the unfollow button is. you’re doing amazing, you’re doing what you want, when you want it, with the time you have. don’t let anyone take your shine.

🔑 I don’t think I can write X or Y or Z: that’s okay. you don’t have too. even if they’re wildly popular or it’s your fave character/trope to read, it’s okay if you find it overwhelming to write. but, try. even in private, even if it never makes it online and stays in a private discord with your bestie. sometimes, it’s scary to take the leap, but sometimes it’s also pretty fucking great.

🩷 for my anxious, worrying souls: sometimes, it does feel lonely. it feels like you’re shouting into a void, surrounded by people, but still on the outskirts of the convos, the chats, the places, the fandom. it’s one of two things: perspective—your brain, as wondrous as it is, is also very cruel, and twists good things into bad (like a disney forest that if you go too deep into begins to look eerie) or you just need to find your person. the one you send all your thoughts to, the one who learns all the intricacies of your life, your routine, easily. it can be hard (and intimidating) to find them, but you will. they’re out there, waiting for you as much as you are for them.

☁️ what makes fandom great is not just the works we find along the way, but the souls we find and connect to. fandom is about supporting art, sharing, loving, enjoying, but it’s also about having fun, being in a space you can curate that makes you smile, and doing so with people who get you, who understand why you love that movie (even if it’s not rated that great) and love you for it all the same.

🫂 do what’s best for you: you don’t want to tackle that fic now, that’s okay. you want to change fandoms, that’s okay. you want to take a break and come back. you want to be around, connecting but not writing for a while, that’s super cool. you want to press pause, hide, lurk for a moment, you do you bby. ignore that pressure you feel on your shoulders, it’s not real. those who love your work, your words, your style, your heart will be here. there’s only one you, and if you burn out at both ends, all you’ll be given is a version of you that you’ll look back on and not like to be reminded of.

lots of love,

jo (undercoverpena) 💕