#and I just spotted the pointer on screen...

[hcsiqs]

SHE'S MY BIGGEST FAN— paige bueckers x cheerleader!oc

༊*·˚summary: paige with a girlfriend that cheers for uconn

༊*·˚warnings: none?

༊*·˚authors note: tell me if yall would want a part two of them getting coffee and stuff lolllllll

"Let's go Huskies!" Lucy cheered from the sideline, placing her arms into a high v before swiping her poms together a few times before restarting the cheer, as she watched the girl's team in a huddle before the five jogged back onto the court. The cheer finished and the team sat back down as the ball was inbounded back onto the court.

Lucy watched intently as the girls moved up and down the court, but before she could even realize it, Paige was running down the court trying to match the girl she was defending. As her opponent went up, so did the blonde, knocking it out of the girl's hand. Lucy didn't even notice Paige jumping towards her until she felt the weight of the other girl's body on top of hers.

"Shit, you good?" Paige asked, breathless, as Lucy and some other cheerleaders helped stand the girl back up.

"Yeah, you?" Lucy asked back quickly, holding the back of her neck that had landed on the knee from one of her teammates behind her. Paige just nodded, a flash of worry across her face as the cheerleader rubbed the back of her neck, but she had no time to stay and check on the girl as she heard her team calling her back to the court. She gave Lucy one last look before jogging back to the court.

"Is she ok?" Ashlynn asked, her eyes darting over to Lucy, who was engrossed in a conversation with the girl beside her.

Paige looked back behind her quickly then back at Ash, "Yeah," the blonde nodded before giving the group a few pointers on how they could improve, "Hey, we gotta get better on defense," she started telling them all before they all went into their spots around where the other team was about to shoot their free throws.

With UConn securing the win, the cheer team excitedly went back to their locker their laughs and yells flowing through the hallway. Once all the girls filed into the locker room, Lucy went to her locker and started taking off her shell and body liner before throwing on a gray UConn sweatshirt. "Luc, your neck ok?" Daniela asked walking over to the girl as she pulled the white bow out of her hair.

"Uh, yeah, just sore," Lucy nodded pulling the bow from her hair and then putting her curly hair into a claw clip. She dragged her perfectly manicured nails down her back feeling the back of it starting to swell slightly. "I'm sure it'll be fine tomorrow," she gave a tight-lipped smile before dragging a makeup wipe across her red-painted lips. She then pulled out another, wiping off the heavy eyeshadow from her eyes before throwing them both into the trash.

Lucy then pulled out her phone and swiped chapstick over her lips before grabbing her cheer bag and throwing it over one of her shoulders. "Ok, guys! Remember practice tomorrow in Guyer Gymnasium at 8:30!" she yelled to her team before giving a quick wave and walking out of the room and into the hallway.

Lucy kept her eyes on her phone screen as she scrolled aimlessly through TikTok while spinning her car keys in her other hand before hearing another voice call out behind her, "Hey!" She just ignored the voice, not recognizing it as one of the girls on her team. The voice called out again and Lucy could hear the patter of the girl's feet pick up pace behind her. She finally took in the moment to realize she was trying to get her attention, so she turned around and was met face-to-face with Paige Bueckers for the second time in the night.

"Gonna fall on me twice in one night, Bueckers?" Lucy laughed as she watched the blonde stable herself on her feet before she took a step back.

The blonde let out an airy laugh as she shook her head, "Nah, but I wanted to know if you were good? I saw you rubbing your neck throughout the game," she explained, her head tilted as she looked at the girl in front of her. Paige hadn't noticed it before, too locked in on the game, but the girl she had fallen into was quite beautiful. From her tan skin to her curly hair, plump lips, and brown doe eyes.

"It's nothing some sleep won't fix, but thanks for checking in," Lucy smiled pushing a loose curl behind her ear.

Paige pursed her lips as she shook her head, "I just feel bad," she laughed softly, "Can I like buy you a drink or something to make up for it?" she asked, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, "I think we're going to Ted's tonight if you wanted to join?"

"I don't really drink," Lucy laughed softly as she rubbed her lips together, "But if you really feel bad, you can get me coffee before my practice tomorrow."

"Got it," Paige nodded, she stayed quiet for a moment, "Can I get your number?" she asked before following up quickly, "For coffee in the morning."

Lucy giggled as she nodded her head and switched out of TikTok and into her contact app before handing her phone over to Paige, "This been your plan all along?" the brunette asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Maybe," the taller girl shrugged her shoulders as she typed her number and put her name into the girl's phone. She then pulled her phone out to the contacts app and handed it over to the girl, whose name she still had let to learn.

She watched as the curly-haired girl typed in her number as well as her name into her phone, before she handed it back, their hands brushing over each other, sending a warmth through both their bodies. Paige smiled as she clicked save contact, finally getting the girl's name, Lucy Bardot, and threw her phone back into her pocket.

"See you tomorrow," Lucy smiled softly, a laugh falling from her lips as she waved and turned back around to walk away.

"Lucy?" Paige called from behind the girl, "How'd you feel if I said this was the plan all along?"

"So funny, Bueckers," the girl laughed as she looked back at the blonde before continuing to her walk out of the gym.

[errera-after-dark]

Not me logging onto Dawn to update her look seeing as I might end up being a bit more active on here now.

And yes, this is something she'd wear out and about, no, she hasn't realized that's why she get's so many people staring

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

”why are you so good at that?”

his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin. 

suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away. 

and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh. 

”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”

he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh, senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood. comfy.

and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.

he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you. 

a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does, of course ��� so weak to you, always, your voice the key to his locked-up heart.

”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing the facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.” 

a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless. 

”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”

it’s not the first you’ve heard of this best friend. suguru’s mentioned him before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do — because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer. 

(that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good; it is practiced. should you feel jealous?

well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.)

before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.

”you must have loved him a lot.”

…

silence.

for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt — just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room.

even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen. 

it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.

a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.

you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid. 

stupid, stupid, stupid.

(why can’t you ever just read the room?)

blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.

— but then suguru breaks it.

”yeah.”

when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.

”i suppose i did.”

…

you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.

just longing.

suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.

and then he’s looking at you. 

”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”

before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.

”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”

all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.

the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.

somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.

”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”

he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.

”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”

the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.

he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.

[princessbrunette]

dick so good i'd let rafe mansplain solitaire and all his little games to me like im stupid - 🍓

🤍໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ⋆˚✿˖°

everything rafe explains is ‘mansplain’ material, but honestly — you don’t mind. infact, he can mansplain whatever he wants as long as he keeps that good dick coming.

you’re all dazed and giggly, you had been all day since rafe gave it to you good at noon. it was a lazy day, your boyfriend not marching around on 20 errands and 8 side quests for once as he lays about tannyhill with you, his usual shirt and slacks switched out for a tshirt and sweatpant shorts. he looks noticeably younger like this, his floppy bangs hanging messily on his forehead and he focuses on his phone, long pointer finger swiping and pressing when need be.

clingy and needy, you end up on his lap, his phone screen placed infront of you with the gentle hum of the television in the background creating a relaxing and domestic atmosphere. “so what hand should i play here? were you listenin’?” he drawls, adjusting you on his lap as he quizzes you. tucking your mouth into one corner, you hum theatrically— knowing you barely listened to a word he said, too focused on how blissed out you were with the warm buzzing of his nasally voice in your ear.

“mm, this one”. you tap your manicured nail on the screen at a random pile and he pulls the screen away, as if worried you’d press something.

“dont wanna empty a spot without a king, remember?” he speaks slowly like you’re a little stupid and you giggle, already throwing in the towel.

“i dont knooow rafe! just wanna watch you play, i dont need to know the rules.” you concede and he shakes his head, pressing the pile he wanted to play and you watch the cards shuffle about on his screen.

“its a good skill to have. you don’t play cards with your friends?” he asks, eyes still fixated on the screen over your shoulder and you snicker, twisting your body to nuzzle into him.

“no, what the hell.” you chortle at the idea. “we just talk, gossip n’stuff.”

“girly shit. guess you won’t be joinin’ me for poker night at kelce’s then?”

“i’ll come but i wont play. i’ll just sit there like a good luck charm.”

it’s rafes turn to snicker, in high spirits as he seemed to be winning the game on his phone. “s’all you ever wanna do huh? sit there n’look pretty.”

“is that not allowed?” you pull your cheek away from where you’d shoved it against him to gaze up at him with a cheeky smile, batting your lashes as he glances at you away from his phone.

“‘course it is.” he purrs, briefly tipping his head to deliver a big wet kiss to your cheek, making you giggle and wipe it on his t-shirt. “don’t fuckin’ wipe that off.” he chuckles in offence, jogging you on his lap. you liked when rafe just let go, he could be really fun behind closed doors.

🤍໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ⋆˚✿˖°

[attapullman]

Silver Screen, Make Me Scream | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: The world is used to seeing Robert Floyd as a Navy admiral on a screen thirty feet tall. You're used to seeing him as the man who spoils you rotten, in and out of the bedroom.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: f!reader, 18+ ONLY, older boyfriend AU, movie star AU, daddy k!nk, unprotected pinv, older bf Bob eats it from behind, cowgirl position, age gap, no y/n

A Note from Mo: Uh...this is porn without plot disguised as a filthy, flirty AU and I am waving from the bars of horny jail. Fellow old man fuckers, this one is for you.

It’s his cold pillow that wakes you. 

No deep breaths or soft snores echoing around the vaulted ceiling. The absurdly expensive bedding all yours to take. Your late night should keep you asleep until noon, but it feels wrong to be in bed when you don’t have your lover’s solid warmth against your skin.

You pad down the terracotta-tiled hall and take in the views of the Pacific, the only artwork needed on this side of the house. Stormy blue and glass-riddled sandy white, the picturesque view sells itself. The waves crash on the beach below, their mellow sound seeping into the Mediterranean revival from the open patio doors. 

He’s sitting outside in just his sweatpants, coffee in hand, as he watches the water while flicking through a thick stack of pages. The grey at his temples is bright under the early San Diego sun. You know he’s reading something important because he has those horn-rimmed glasses on, the ones he repeatedly complains are too tight around his ears. Won’t even waste a minute to go grab his preferred wire frames. 

Robert Floyd may be retired from show business, but he’s hotter than the first day he graced screens.

Eyes lifting from the pages, he catches you staring from your spot by the French doors, negligee skimming your body in the soft ocean breeze. The lids of your eyes are still a little heavy with sleep.

“You need something, baby?” He pats his broad thigh and you assume your perch, snuggling against his sun-warmed skin as you shake your head. How is he always the perfect temperature? The chill from the ocean wafts over you as he wraps his arm around your waist.

Your lips part in a contented smile. “Just checking in on you, Daddy. Missed you in bed.”

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, brushing his lips against your temple. His thick pointer taps against the stack of pages that arrived by messenger at sunrise. “Agent asked me to give this a look over, see if I’d be interested.”

You tilt your head to see the title. “Is that-”

“Yes, baby girl. They’re asking me to come back. Just a few scenes with the new regime, but get to wear that admirals uniform one more time.” Despite him saying it so matter of factly, you can detect his giddiness at wearing those pins once again. “Not sure if it’s the right move though.”

You trail your finger along his pectoral, imagining the ironed uniform underneath your touch. 

Robert Floyd had made a career of Naval action films, starting out as a fresh faced Weapons Systems Officer in his debut, to gracing the screen one last time as an Admiral in the franchise’s original conclusion. He’d won over hearts with his steely blue gaze and soft smile, never one for breaking the rules. Yet always the one who celebrated the hardest when his squadron completed a mission.

For military propaganda, he made a compelling poster boy.

Your entire childhood he had been on posters in the mall, trailers on the television during commercial breaks. Those bright sapphire eyes and gleaming pins burnt into your vision, uncontrollably charmed by the strong, silent type. 

And now here he was, putty under your palms as you asked if he wanted more coffee.

Without a doubt he’d take the appearance, spend a day or two on set with the next generation of Naval action stars. The next year he’d appear on every talk show and repeat his modesty over his fifteen minutes on camera. Your Bobby would balk at the attention, but glow with pride as the host played his cameo for the audience. 

Watching him flip through a few pages, you could already see the shy smile he would win the crowd over as he insisted the revival’s cast members were the real stars.

“What’cha thinking about, sweet girl?” You were so lost in your daydream that you missed his attention turning to you, warm palm running over your hip under your thin robe. 

You stroke his jaw, fingers curling into the regulation-cut greying hair. The cut he’s kept since he was first cast in his early twenties. “You should take the role. You look handsome as an admiral.” You peck a light kiss to his lips. “Dashing, really.”

His blush is striking against the ocean sky. As you get up to go make you both breakfast, you can feel his eyes on you; an extra sway in your hips for his enjoyment. Bob lounges back on the outdoor set and looks between the breaking waves and the now slightly rumpled script. 

He’s coming back.

The view of the ocean as you zip up I-5 is breathtaking, a gorgeous Southern California day. The early call time was less than ideal, but the energy in the car is electric. Bob’s hand wanders into the passenger seat to wrap around your bare knee, thumb tapping out an unknown rhythm as he navigates traffic. 

He looks the vision of wealth and importance sitting in the front seat of his pewter grey Porsche 911 - a sleek upgrade for his 40th from the battered truck he’d been driving since he arrived in Hollywood. The car is understated in its elegance, like its owner. You admire his graceful lines of a life well lived, the pokes of silver woven through his hair. And yet his eyes carry that intelligent, sassy energy that keeps you on your toes, ready for the next challenge he brings you. 

“You’re looking at me.” His eyes don’t leave the road, but the smile on the corner of his thin lips is playful.

You fiddle with his fingers, admiring the large dexterous digits. “Just so handsome, how can I not?”

Bob lifts your hand with his, allowing the platinum and diamonds of your bracelet to catch the morning sun - nearly blinding with their sparkle. He brings your interlocked fingers to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to the skin as he finally looks at you. His eyes are the same striking blue as the ocean behind him. 

“Perfect girl, what did I do to deserve you?”

You’re wondering the same when he enters the studio lot, passing through security and finding your way to the set. There’s a bustle of commotion as the two of you join the crowd, everyone immediately hushing their voices as the talent arrives. Bob’s chest swells with power as everyone immediately caters to him before noticing you.

“That must be his assistant?” Rumors spread through the crew like wildfire, watching you prance behind film legend Robert Floyd like an excitable puppy. Eyebrows shooting up when he turns back and rests a hand on the back of your bare thigh, leaning close to ask if you want anything from craft. 

You slide your diamond-covered wrist around his neck and peck his cheek. Definitely not an assistant.

Since the day he’d made his name on marquees, Bob had been surrounded by women. A tall man in Navy blues with the golden touch of Hollywood? His fellow cast joked more than once that tag chasers didn’t care whether you served the country or just did it on screen. Eventually he’d done the responsible thing and tried marriage, settling down with a woman who cared more about his flashy lifestyle than the quiet man behind the lights. Divorce was swift and the introvert reverted inside his shell, his film career quiet as the next generation of aviators took the screen. 

And then you entered his life, with your open face and bright smile. A coffee shop in Coronado he frequented that you happened to pass. A bump of elbows over the creamer, his amused grin when you accidentally grabbed his drink in your fluster. You were so excited to meet a real movie star, a dream come true. And he looked so much bigger than his character - those shoulders brawnier, that jaw sharper. Yet the smile he gave you was heart-melting as you handed him your own coffee cup to sign, nothing else available.

It wasn’t until that afternoon you noticed he’d written his number in neat penmanship. You had to wait until that next night to know you were falling inexplicably in love with a man who the rest of the world already adored. He was bigger than life, your everything.

And for all of your affection, he spoiled you. Dates to restaurants you couldn’t pronounce in Liberty Station, private events with tickets you couldn’t afford. Every week a new trinket left at your bedside, sparkling in the low light while he hummed in the bathroom excited for you to notice. Few things brought him joy at this stage in life, but you traipsing in with nothing on but the latest diamanté left him positively enraptured.

People could stare and point and judge all they wanted. It was love, and it was all yours.

You’ve raided the mini bar and read through the call sheet when Bob finally comes back to his trailer. He strikes a bold figure in his Navy blacks - pins gleaming, white cap under his arm. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greets you, swooping to kiss your cheek. But your breath is already stolen. You’d seen pictures, caught his movies at the old matinee in Balboa Park. But standing in front of you is the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. He looks so…official.

Bob was already feeling good in the wardrobe trailer, the crew he’d worked with for years stroking his ego as they put the final touches to his starched uniform. He’d be on screen for a total of eight minutes and he was going to look important every single second. 

But with your eyes trained on him, pupils wide and mesmerized, it’s the only compliment he needs. 

“They look good on you again,” you coo, tracing your fingertips over the sterling silver insignia pins. It’s hard to quell the rising heat as you look at him, standing tall in this uniform - his uniform - just like the posters and movie trailers of your youth. 

He rubs his temples and grabs his wire frames from the counter, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he straightens up. “Feels good to wear them, baby. Not sure who I am if not in the ‘Navy’.” He chuckles around air quotes, morphing into a moan as you run your nails down his torso. 

Even though he’s not in character, the suit transforms him. 

He’s not your Bob, the man who walks around his big ol’ house in band shirts he got in the 80s and his worn shearling slippers. Squinting through his glasses while trying to read fine print for instruction manuals for more Lego sets than he needs, peppering your head with kisses as you sit between his knees. Your Bobby is always goofy and smiling when you come through the door, eager to wrap his arms around you as he patiently listens to all the friend updates from brunch. He’s warmth and safety, that side of middle age where you have to explain internet fads with a playful eye roll.

But this man…this man in front of you is stern and mighty, seizing the room with his intensity. He’s commanding in his own silent way, back straight and shoulders taught. No nonsense, just like the admiral he plays for screens around the world. His presence is intoxicating. You can’t decide if you want to dominate him or be putty in his hands. 

You twist in his arms, pressing your chest to his as you smooth the lapels of his suit. It’s only natural that those big, practiced hands of his immediately slip to your legs. Two magnets drawn by the promise of touch. But once he’s inches from your pretty face, ready to ask you to help him read over lines, that gleam in your eyes has other plans.

His girl wants him.

“Babygirl, I’m in wardrobe.” His words say no, but the fervent way he’s stroking the skin under your hem says differently. He’s not immune to a tiny dress and puppy eyes. You watch his hand reach up to drag through greying roots before he remembers it’s styled, redirecting his frustration by slipping rough fingers around the nape of your neck. Holding your head still while he fights his sense of responsibility.

It doesn’t matter that you’re in a tin can trailer with no sound proofing. You lick your glossy lips and give him the most innocent smile. “Please? We can be super careful.”

He eyes you warily. The two of you together is messy.

“Please, Daddy?” You rub yourself against him, feeling the way he shivers underneath his stiff uniform. “I wanna know what it’s like to fuck an admiral. Please?”

He’s powerless against you when you’re like this. Needy and heavy-lidded, unsatisfied until you’ve had your fair share of him and then some. It’s only when you’re a panting mess full of his spend that he can regain any control against you.  The age gap is exhilarating and exhausting.

His face dips to rest against your temple, the floral scent of your perfume clouding his senses. So sweet, so soft. You feel his groan against your cheek before he straightens up to his full height, towering over you with a stern expression on his face. Those elegant, practiced fingers tuck under your chin.

“Attention.” Your spine straightens, your breath deepens. “Let’s see if you’re up to regulation, lieutenant.”

A warm gush of excitement floods your body, soaking in your flimsy excuse for underwear. You watch your big, broad, authoritative boyfriend sink down into the plush trailer sofa, knees spread. Patting his thigh with an unamused brow quirk. 

Exhilaration races through your veins as you eagerly straddle his lap, sundress sliding up your thighs as you perch prettily on his thighs. The vision of youthful glow, hoping to impress.

Bob traces your heated skin with callused fingers, lips pursed, before sliding a hand firmly up your back. The world spins as he flips you over his lap, your rounded ass exposed to his eyes, modesty barely covered by a scrap of lace.

“Uniform panty inspection,” Bob huffs out, fingers ghosting over the fabric. His voice is restrained, clipped. You stay as still as possible as you hold your breath. You want to pass this inspection so bad.

The firm touch of his ring finger to your clothed sex forces a moan to slip through your clamped lips. So close to giving you what you want. But he remains diligent, stroking your pussy through the fabric until he’s satisfied with the wet patch he created. “Perfectly up to code.”

His finger wraps around the strap of the thong and yanks it down, forcing you to further immodestly part your knees as he discards the sexy - yet unnecessary - piece of fabric.

Your mind is heavy with lust as you turn your head, trying to understand. Normally he’s between your thighs teasing the fabric for longer than you can handle. Your lips are still dry. But before your eyes and brain connect with the visual, film legend Robert Floyd has a rounded cheek in each hand and his tongue plunged deep in your pretty pink pussy.

Blunt nails dig into the soft skin of your ass as he re-acquaints himself with your taste. Sliding his thick muscle along the velveteen walls of your cunt, lapping up the addicting taste of your lust. Your head is empty as he forces you to take it, to enjoy the way he worships the very core of your being. 

Saliva and arousal mix on his clean shaven face as he presses deeper, moaning as he feels you clench around him. His own pride growing as you wail with only his tongue fucking you. It’s wet and dirty, the heat along your skin eating you alive as you succumb to your pleasure. 

These are the benefits of dating a man with experience.

His tongue retreats, laving over your folds with practiced precision. You bury your head in the rough sofa fabric, muffling the depraved sounds crossing your lips. Your fingers reach up and wrap around his thick wrist, needing a tether to reality. His free hand travels to his belt, loosening the leather and freeing his erection to the humid trailer.

He knows you and your tells. Dragging that wicked tongue back, he corners your little neglected clit. Sucks it into his mouth like an after dinner mint, savoring the tangy sweetness of you. Your hips thrust back at him, desperate for more as you begin your hedonistic descent. 

Time and space lose all meaning as Bob goes in for the kill, switching between the heavy pulls on your clit and the slippery licks along your core. Blowing cool air where you’re most sensitive before sweeping in with his burning tongue. The combination of his stiff muscle fucked into your depths and his thumb bumping your swollen clit finally send you over the edge, a white light overtaking your body as you scream into the plush cushion below.

Film legend Robert Floyd cleans your juices from your shaking thighs thoroughly.

Begrudgingly, your limbs are jelly as you bring yourself to his level. Bob’s hands continue their ministrations to the globes of your ass, squeezing and groping the soft skin. When you finally find yourself sitting upright, his thick cock nestled between the soft lips of your cunt, he gives into his desires and draws his hand up, only to bring it down with a slap! The sound rings through the room and his cheeks tinge pink with arousal and embarrassment.

“Admiral!” you giggle as he repeats the harsh slap on the other cheek. 

While you have the devastatingly sexy view of a sweaty admiral beneath you, his eyes are glued to the mirror across the trailer that captures the dark red handprint he wishes he could tattoo on your perfect ass. 

Lips descend upon his and the trailer is filled with the slick sounds of tongues and moans, four hands grasping with the need to touch. But where to touch? His burning skin? The cool pins of his jacket? It’s almost too easy a choice to wrap your fingers around the bulbous head of his cock while he swallows your desperate little tongue.

“That’s it, feel how hard Daddy is for you.”

He finally pulls himself from your kiss-bitten lips as his hands tug down the neckline of your filmy dress, exposing your heaving breasts to the room. Lips dipping down to wrap around your hardened nipple, leaving teeth marks and wet kisses on tender flesh. Your moans egging him on to bite deeper, suck harder.

The world knows the reserved man who waits to speak, level-headed in the most dire situations. And yet here he is, the remnants of your orgasm staining his chin as he closes his eyes to better enjoy the peaked bud he’s devouring. 

He’s delicious and all yours.

Your fingers tangle at the nape of his neck, grasping the short strands with all your might as you pull him off your chest with an audible pop. Those impossibly blue eyes look at you reverently, letting you call the shots so he can continue to enjoy your body as it deserves. You drag your shared gaze to where your bodies meet and a grunt involuntarily leaves him. Finally.

The first touch is a puzzle piece falling into place. The thick head of him asking for entrance, slick with your desire. 

Those unbelievably large hands hold themselves delicately at your waist, assisting your descent. His eyes flicker between yours and the welcoming entrance of your cunt. Your commanding admiral - your sweet Bobby - grasps you securely as you try to sink further on his swollen cock.

“Daddy, it’s too big.” Your voice is pained, teary eyes struggling to hold his gaze just as he likes. His size splitting you open like his own personal cock sleeve.

“You can take it, baby, just breathe.” His heart threatens to beat out of his chest as your impossibly tight cunt squeezes around him. “There’s my good girl, gonna fit all of Daddy, aren’t you?”

Hesitantly lifting your hips, muscle memory takes over as you adjust. The ease of taking his thick cock coming back to you as your breasts bounce with your fervent movement. The lapel of his jacket wrinkles as you hold it, lip between your teeth as he grazes that spongy spot only he can reach.

He guides you in your pursuit of pleasure, admiring the way you thrust you chest out as you clench around him. One hand on his lapel, the other grasping his knee. Truly using his body to get yourself off. So unbelievably sexy.

Your admiral’s thumb finds your clit, rubbing persistent slow circles over the sensitive, swollen bud. Times a hard press with when you are completely full of him, your senses overwhelmed. Bob. Bob. Bob. His balls ache with the need to claim you as his.

Impatient, knowing call time is mere moments away, Bob lifts his hips to yours. Pumping his erection deep, all the way to the hilt as his balls brush your ass. He’s so deep, so perfectly deep. A guttural moan leaves your spit-slicked lips, begging for your orgasm. 

“Are you going to cum for your admiral?” His deep voice rings through your ears as you chase your high, the world clouding as only his cock becomes your reality. Your fingers card through his hair, silver and golden brown weaving together to keep you grounded in your pleasure. “I said, are you going to cum for your admiral?”

“Yes!” The next lot over could probably hear you shout to the heavens, plunging yourself down on Bob’s thick cock as your orgasm plunges you over the cliff. Sweet relief flooding your senses as your pussy pulses around him as a thank you.

Your lips find his neck as you nuzzle in, hips still sunk low on his throbbing erection. You need to be filled with Daddy’s cum.

The stiff fabric of his uniform jacket rubs your bare skin as he holds you close, pressing your nipples to his insignia pins as he strongly thrusts those last few times. Grunting into your cooing mouth as he finally lets go, cock pulsing as thick white jets of his cum coat your walls. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear when you carefully pull off, barely enough energy to keep your thighs closed for the sake of his uniform. He gently guides you onto your back, ever the gentleman. 

You stretch your sore limbs and relax into the plushness of his trailer sofa, hands wrapping behind your head as you smile, satiated, while Bob’s creamy cum runs past your thighs to pool on the fabric. Your graying lover gives you a wry smile as he regains his breath against the back the couch, uniform crumpled and bearing a stain a little too close to his zipper. 

Always so messy. But so worth it.

There’s a rap at the door, three quick knocks that shake you both from your orgasmic haze. Bob rushes to cover your modesty, fiddling with the hems of your dress with clumsy fingers. Wishing you were home so he could wrap you in his robe and run a bath before watching the ocean from the terrace instead of praying there’s wipes in this shoddy trailer. 

“Mr. Floyd? We’re ready for you,” comes through the door. The PA who whispered you were an assistant, now only steps away from your bare breasts and dirty thighs.

You wiggle your eyebrows at Bob as you fix your own appearance, amused as the bigger than life Robert Floyd shuffles around the room, tucking in his button up and wiping sweat from his collar. Blush in full force as he hands you the thong resting on the kitchenette. He shakes his head at you, mirth softening the edges of his hard gaze. There’s another knock at the door.

Uniform fully back in place, Bob takes a moment to admire you before an afternoon in front of cameras. Enjoying this last moment before he gets into character. Hands on your soft hips, sated cerulean eyes appreciating the curves of your mischievous lips. “Be a good girl for me today and Daddy will give you a reward later. Deal?”

You bite your lip and nod with a smirk, opening the door of the trailer so he’s not later than he already is. Today you get to watch him do the thing he loves, that in itself is already a reward. The crowd outside the trailer watches you turn back and leave one last kiss to his lips.

“Yes…Admiral.”

Bob can’t wait to surprise you with the South Sea pearl and diamond earrings he’s saved for this day. It’s his baby girl’s first day on set, only the best to commemorate the occasion.

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[coldfanbou]

A Love Hotel Date

New Mommy Series part with the returning Jihyo. She learns some pieces about what's happened between Jeongyeon and you. What will her move be?

Length 3.8K

Jihyo X Mreader

Previous Part

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Looking down the aisle, you spot the woman who started everything. Jihyo hasn’t noticed you yet; she’s squatting down, looking at different strawberry options. Her jeans hugged her curves, showing off her thick thighs. You want to call out for her when a man stands by her, and Jihyo smiles at them. They start to walk away together when Jihyo notices you. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth hangs open. She quickly recomposes herself before continuing on shopping. You shake your head and get back to shopping, too. You’re disappointed she’s with someone else for a moment until you remember she was married. 

Continuing with your shopping, you grab what you need, and as you pick up your basket, someone bumps into you. “You have to be more careful.” When you turn to face the person, it’s Jihyo. “It’s nice to see you again.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Jihyo.” You both stare at each other awkwardly, unsure of what you can do in such a public place. 

Jihyo makes the first move. “I can’t talk much right now, but take my number.” She says, pulling out her phone. “I didn’t think I’d see you again, so I didn’t bother giving you my number, but knowing that you’re close enough to be shopping here…” She stops herself and clears her throat. “Anyway, here. Call me; I might be free later tonight.” Jihyo walks away after giving you her number. She has a small smile on her face as she returns to her cart. 

“Where did you go?” Her husband asks.

“Nowhere, just had to take a look at something we might’ve missed.” She says plainly. Moving along before any more questions are asked.

You watch her walk away for a moment before looking at the number on your screen. You buy your things and leave. You return to your home and wait until it gets dark before calling Jihyo. 

“Hello?”

“Jihyo?”

“Hey, I’m free. Do you want to meet up somewhere?” She asks with no hesitation. “I have a hotel in mind.” From her tone, you can tell she has a smile on her face. 

“Yeah, I’m free to meet up. Tell me where to go.”

You head to the address Jihyo gives you. You look up at the sign and see it’s a love hotel. You wait outside, looking at your phone as a message pops up. “Look up.” Jihyo is standing across the road in a short coat that ends just a fingertip away from her ass; a skirt manages to cover her, but if she were to bend over, you’d be able to see her panties. She looks both to her sides, making sure no car is coming before crossing the road. As she reaches you, she walks her pointer and middle finger up your shirt until she reaches your lips. Jihyo closes in on you and presses her lips against yours. You can feel her smile as she leans onto your body. She breaks the kiss slowly, letting her lips linger on yours for just a moment more. “Let’s head inside; it’s getting chilly out here. I hope you can warm me up.” She says in a low voice, a smirk on her face. Jihyo hooks her arm around you and leads the way inside. A bit of excitement stirs in her as she walks in. You both take a quick look and see not many rooms are available; you end up choosing the most expensive option after seeing the other ones weren’t to your interest. You’re given the key to the room and take the elevator up. Jihyo stays attached to your arm. You glance at her as she tries to get by your ear. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Jihyo.” 

“Have you been sleeping with any other women?” She asks, pressing her chest against your arm. Her soft breasts trap your arm, and you start to become aroused. 

“Getting jealous?” You reply with all the smugness you can muster.

“Who?”

“Jeongyeon, I transferred to her company.” Jihyo looks surprised at your answer. 

“Jeongyeon? Really? I didn’t think she would be the type to keep it going.” Jihyo looks to be deep in thought before snapping back to reality.

“What about you? Have you slept around?” Jihyo purses her lips and avoids your gaze; she gives you mixed signals. While she was doing that, she pressed her body against yours.  

“I…tried, but it wasn’t the same. It never felt as good. The others just wanted to fuck; there was nothing else there.” Jihyo replies after a moment. “So I stopped, but now that I know you live somewhere nearby, I’m hoping that we can be something.”

“But you’re still going to stay with your husband?” 

“...I am,” Jihyo says quietly. 

The door to the elevator opens, and you both step out, continuing your conversation. “Oh, speaking of partners, I met a friend of yours when I was out with Jeongyeon. Does the name Sana ring any bells?” 

“Oh no, she didn’t tell you anything weird, did she?” Jihyo responds.

“No, Jeongyeon would stop her before she could start a story, but she did say that you and her would experiment in college.” Jihyo covers the left half of her face, embarrassed. 

“For the record, it was her idea.” You reach your room and open the door. Jihyo steps in front of you and looks around. The room was rather large; the theme was that of a log cabin, and it gave off a more romantic atmosphere as a fireplace lit up the room. Jihyo threw herself on the bed; her skirt flew up and covered her stomach. The married woman had spread her legs, revealing her lack of panties. Jihyo leans on her elbows as she raises her upper body. “Do you like what you see?” Jihyo answers her question quickly as she casts her eyes downwards and sees your bulge. Jihyo grabs the edges of her skirt and pulls it down between her legs, blocking your view. You step toward Jihyo, and she sits up at the edge of the bed. 

You push her back down, wrapping your arms around her head as you kiss her. You feel the passion coming from her as she bites your bottom lip. Her hands work quickly to unbuckle your belt. “That excited, huh?” You joke, watching her hands rapidly strip you of your lower garments. Jihyo doesn’t say a word; she grabs your pants and underwear and pulls them both down. She grabs your semi-hard cock, and you groan. Her soft hand is wrapped around your shaft as she gives it a small pump. Jihyo stares into your eyes, watching your body jerk from her strokes. You reach for her breasts, moving them side to side and watching them jiggle. Jihyo laughs, seeing you play with them like that. She laughs until you slide one hand under her shirt and pinch her nipple. Your fingers get wet, and Jihyo’s milk leaks from her nipple and wets her shirt. Jihyo shuts her eyes and revels in the tiny bit of pleasure. Your other hand moves her skirt up while you fall over her. Moans start to fill the room; your fingers circle Jihyo’s lips. 

Jihyo kisses you until you’re both out of breath, “Enough of this. I want you inside me already.” She whines. Jihyo lifts her shirt, slowly dragging it along her stomach until she reaches her breasts. With one swift motion, she lifts her shirt above her breasts, making them bounce as she finishes getting it off. Jihyo’s breasts are just as beautiful as the last time you saw them; they’re slightly swollen, and a small bit of milk is running down the nipple you pinched earlier. You start to get your shirt off while inching closer to her breast. You squeeze her other breast as you latch onto her nipple. Your suckling causes milk to flow forth. You remember the rich taste well. Jihyo struggles to get her skirt off, your tongue lapping at her bud, making her moan uncontrollably. “H-hold on, I still need to get out of my skirt.” Eventually, Jihyo is able to get her skirt off. Your eyes shoot downward and see her wet cunt. Jihyo’s nectar has spread to her thighs, coating them. You switch breasts, making sure to drink from both fountains. At the same time, you start to tease Jihyo, rubbing around her clit in a circular motion. Jihyo pushes her chest out, “Please, just fuck me already. I need you.” She whines. 

“Let me enjoy you, Jihyo. I missed your body.” You reply as you push your fingers into her cunt. You hear her gasp as you move past her folds and curl your fingers to hit her sensitive points. You abandon Jihyo’s breast and kiss her, silencing her moans for the moment. Your tongue explores her mouth; Jihyo is powerless to do the same. Pleasure racks her body; she’s unconsciously rocking her hips against your hand. 

“Jesus, fuck! I’m cumming!” Jihyo shouts as her pelvis shoots up. You continue to finger her as she cums, driving Jihyo crazy. Her body shakes until you start to slow down; Jihyo weakly holds onto your arm, trying to stop you. Seeing her in such a state, you slow down and position yourself between her legs. You slap her cunt with your cock a couple of times, drawing weak moans from Jihyo. 

“Are you ready, Jihyo?” You ask jokingly. You take in Jihyo’s tanned body while waiting for her response. It’s beautiful; her big, heavy breasts rise and fall with every breath. Despite being a mother, Jihyo maintained a good figure; her slim waist and wide hips were almost too much to handle for you. Then there was her pretty cunt, a small bush was rested just above it, currently soaked in her nectar. Her legs were lovely, nice thick and soft thighs; you think about how good it must feel to get a thighjob from her. 

“I’m-I’m ready anytime, baby.”

“Oh? I’m your baby now?” You slide between Jihyo’s lips and into her cunt. You bury yourself inside, listening to Jihyo’s rapturous moans. Jihyo wraps her legs around your waist, holding your still so you couldn’t move before she was ready. You get by her ear, nibbling on her ear lobe before whispering in a low tone, “Does that make you my Mommy?” 

Jihyo’s walls grow tighter as she hears you call her mommy. “Yes, Yes. I’ll be your mommy.” You chuckle, thinking about how the pleasure must have gotten to Jihyo. She would probably go along with whatever you said right now. You pull out slowly, reveling in the feeling of Jihyo’s pussy cradling your cock. Jihyo groans; she feels your cock slowly leaving her body for a moment before you ram it back into her. “Agh! Fuck Mommy, please fuck Mommy.” Jihyo begs, her words being slurred slightly. You start to thrust in earnest now; Jihyo’s legs relax around your waist, giving you the space to move. You take Jihyo’s hands in yours, knowing how much she enjoyed that the first time. You raise her hands above her head and nip at her neck. You plant your lips all over her upper body, moving from her neck down to her breasts before going back up.  Jihyo’s bouncing breasts mesmerize you for a time, but you ignore them and kiss Jihyo. Unlike the last one, you move slower, letting Jihyo’s tongue reach out for yours. Her muffled moans turn you on, and you start to thrust faster.

“Uh, uh, Fuck, I missed this. I missed having you inside me.” Jihyo says softly between kisses. You let go of Jihyo’s hands, letting them wander your body as you do the same to her. Her hands mainly stay around your chest, occasionally moving to your shoulders as she holds onto you. Your hands move up and down her side, and you play with her breasts briefly. The soft flesh is irresistible to you, but you don’t want to focus on them too much. You catch Jihyo staring at you and look back at her. A strong silence hangs over the two of you as you continue thrusting. Only the sounds of your bodies colliding and your moans fill the room. 

You break the silence, “I missed this too, Jihyo.” You kiss her, feeling her pour her heart into it. You try to get the mood back to its previous place. “Mommy’s milk tastes good; I want to give Mommy my milk.” You groan. Every time you call Jihyo Mommy, her walls tighten around you, and the soft cradling feeling you had before is replaced with a tightness you hadn’t felt from her before. “Fuck, I’m cumming Jihyo. Where do you want it?” You groan, breaking character.

Jihyo’s legs push you deeper in, and she wraps her arms around you, “I want you to fill your Mommy.” Jihyo’s words trigger your orgasm; you hold onto her ass and drive your cock deep inside Jihyo. Your cum spews forth, covering Jihyo’s walls as it travels toward her womb. You both roar in pleasure, riding out your orgasms together. You feel Jihyo’s walls relax and flex around your shaft, trying to get as much as possible from you. 

Laying together on the bed, you don’t want to pull out of Jihyo just yet. You roll onto your side and cuddle with the woman before you. “That was a little different from last time, but it’s still what I was looking for,” Jihyo says before kissing your cheek. She laughs, feeling slightly embarrassed that she got turned on by being called mommy. You join in and laugh with Jihyo. You caress her cheek while staring into her eyes. The lighting in the room is just enough for you to see the depth in them. You slowly inch toward each other, kissing for what seems like forever. Your fingers interlock without you noticing, and Jihyo rolls onto you. She pushes her hips back; the movement makes you both moan. Your cock begins to harden again. 

The phone in the room rings, interrupting the moment. Jihyo lets it ring a couple of times, not wanting to let the moment go, but eventually, she has to get off to answer it. “Oh, yes. Um, right. Thank you. We’ll be down in ten minutes.”  Jihyo hangs up the phone before looking at you. “Our time is up. I wish we could have spent the entire night together.” Jihyo returns to bed and climbs on top of you, “we at least get ten minutes to shower. Come, let’s not waste it.”

“It’s kind of hard to go to the shower with you on top of me.”

“Carry me,” Jihyo says as she slides your cock inside her. “I’ll get off you once we’re in the shower. You struggle to stand up; Jihyo’s weight and gravity cause her to sink onto your cock with every step.  You don’t complain; the pleasure is more than enough compensation. 

Once inside the shower and with hot water running over your body, Jihyo lifts herself off your cock and kneels before you. “I’ll clean this little guy up, and you can clean me after.” She says in a suggestive tone. Jihyo points your cock to the ceiling and drags her tongue along the underside, moving from base to tip. You moan her name as she uses her tongue along the sides of your shaft. Your knees grow weak as Jihyo sucks on the tip; you want her to take more in. Jihyo stares up at you and knows this. The corners of her mouth poke up for a second; Jihyo shoves more of your cock in her mouth. Her warm wet tongue slowly swirls around your cock; you put one hand on her head and gently push her to take the entire length in.

“Fuck, Jihyo. You’re so good at this.” You groan. Your head has been tilted back as you revel in the pleasure of Jihyo’s skilled tongue working your cock. When you look down at the married woman, you see a lustful look in her eyes. Your cock twitches at the sight, “Jihyo, I’m cumming.” Jihyo uses her throat to pump your cock a few times before backing away and opening her mouth for you. 

“Cum on me.” Jihyo grasps your cock with both hands and strokes you until cum spurts from you. It paints her face, hitting the bridge of her nose and cheeks. As she continues to stroke your cock the final spurt hits over her eye. Jihyo rubs your cum into her skin for the few seconds she has before the water clears it away. Jihyo rises slowly and turns her back to you. She backs up until your bodies are pressed against each other. Your cock sits firmly between her ass cheeks, and you can feel her grind against you. “It’s your turn to clean me.” You begin to clean Jihyo’s body; with soapy hands, you squeeze and knead her breasts. Her coos are music to your ears. You move one hand down her body until you cunt, slipping two fingers inside you, please Jihyo. Her walls squeeze your fingers as you push in deeper.

“Mmm, I’m so close. Just a little bit more.” Jihyo moans in your arms. You adjust your position and slide your cock between her thighs; it runs along her slit. Feeling the heat from it, Jihyo moans. You focus on her breasts and start to kiss her neck. You tease Jihyo’s nipples, repeatedly flicking them while thrusting between her legs. She moans louder than before and moves her head around quickly as if the pleasure was torturing her. You feel her lean on you more as she nears her orgasm. You tilt her head to the side and kiss her as she cums. Her muffled moans slowly grow quiet. 

Her eyes flutter open, and she stares at you, “I wish we could stay like this a little longer.”

“So do I.” Unfortunately, you can’t. Soon, your shower with Jihyo ends, and you both step out while you put your clothes back on. 

Jihyo comes out in an oversized T-shirt. “Our little rendezvous isn’t done yet. I have a surprise for you.” Jihyo takes a few steps away from you and slowly strips off the shirt to show a revealing black dress. Jihyo’s smooth back is revealed to the world in the dress. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” Jihyo thanks you for the compliment and turns to face you. 

“Come on, let’s get going. I’m hungry.” Jihyo checks herself out before she goes out. You follow close behind. You return the key and step back out into the night. “I planned a nice dinner for us.” Jihyo looks to the side, a bit embarrassed. “I just realized I never asked if you were available to do something after.” 

“Of course I am.” You reply quickly. “Lead the way…Mommy.” You whisper, teasing Jihyo. You lead Jihyo to your car, and you’re off to a busy upscale restaurant. “You’re a bit shocked at first that she chose such a place, but you’re also worried about whether you’d be able to afford it. 

Jihyo quickly calms your nerves when it comes to payment. “Nice place, right? A friend of mine owns it; she owes me a favor, and we’re getting to eat free tonight. Isn’t that great? You breathe a sigh of relief and nod your head. Once inside, you’re quickly seated in a back corner, where you would have all the privacy you wanted. You’re attended to quickly, order, and wait for your food. “So Jeongyeon has been coming back to you since you transferred?” 

“Yeah, she has. Er, well, once. She said she didn't want to but then changed her mind pretty quickly. We’ve only slept together once.”

“She didn’t tell me any of that. She must want to keep you for herself.” Jihyo says with a smile on her face. On the inside, she was slightly annoyed that Jeongyeon hadn’t said anything. Jihyo was the one that got her into you in the first place. “What’s stopping her from being with you more often?”

“Well, she has her husband and baby. It’s hard work. Aren’t you in the same position?” You ask. The way Jihyo worded her question made her sound like she had more free time. 

“Almost, I don’t have to work. Or at least I don’t have to often. You know if Jeongyeon doesn’t have time for you, I can be there. My husband still doesn’t pay me any attention, and he’s been working longer hours. If you’re interested, we could do this pretty often. I would have to bring my baby along sometimes, so those days, it would be more like we’re a married couple.” Jihyo says with a laugh.” Though she tries to hide it, you can sense some pain in her words. Jihyo’s confidence is higher than Jeongyeon’s, but you can still tell they face similar problems. 

“I think that would be nice. I wouldn’t mind just being with you when you do have to bring your baby.” Jihyo gives you an earnest smile in response. A change in her tone signals to you that she feels a sense of relief. Jihyo herself felt good about clearing that hurdle in her mind. She knew she had an advantage in spending more free time with you, so she would use it. The interest she held in you was lesser than Jeongyeon’s, but at the same time, she felt something in her heart. The moments she spent with you earlier gave her something. 

Dinner goes by in a flash, and you and Jihyo talk throughout the meal. When it came time to part, Jihyo hooked her arm around you and leaned into you. “I had a great night. I think this is the first date I’ve been on in…” Jihyo grows quiet as she reflects on when her last date had been; nothing comes to mind, though.

You interrupt her, not wanting her to dwell on the conversation. “I had a great night too. I think we did things in the opposite order, though. We’re supposed to fuck after we eat.” Jihyo playfully slaps your arm and laughs. 

“I got excited and didn’t plan things well, okay?” The two of you walk until you reach your car. Jihyo gives you her address, and you begin the drive. It doesn’t take long for Jihyo to fall asleep in the passenger seat. When you arrive, you give Jihyo a peck on the cheek; she stirs slowly. “Hm? Where am I?”

“We’re at your home, Jihyo.” You give Jiyho a proper kiss, “Good night.”

“Good Night. I’ll call you. Get home safe.”

[thealternateuniverse]

Paranoia

Part 1Part 2

A/N: I took a break scrolling from tiktok for my sanity 😭. I appreciate the lovely comments guys. Keep it coming. Thoughts and feedbacks are open.

Edit: There was a part that was missing. I forgot to proofread. PS. This is purely fiction, some events in this story did not happen in real life.

🧎‍♀️(down bad on this photo)

Warnings: Read at your own risk

As the last quarter unfolded, USC relentlessly closing the 13 points gap, the score now standing at 76-70. Despite their efforts, Y/N's team struggled to maintain their momentum and extend their lead. Geno's frustration boiled over, his impassioned instructions during the timeout emphasizing the crucial defensive adjustments they needed to make.

As the clock winds down, the score still stands at 76-70 in favor of UConn. With USC in possession, the pressure is on to close the gap. But Azzi, has other plans. With lightning reflexes, she snatches the ball from USC's grasp and sets the stage for a thrilling sequence of events.

Spotting her teammate Nika open on the court, Azzi swiftly passes the ball. USC's Kaitlyn Davis is quick to react, shadowing Nika's every move. Sensing an opportunity, Y/N, fueled by determination, waves at Nika, signaling for the pass.

With a precision pass, Nika sends the ball sailing towards Y/N. Sensing an opening, Y/N positions herself strategically, evading USC's defense. As she receives the ball, she executes a flawless screen, creating space and thwarting Davis's attempt to intercept.

Dribbling with purpose, Y/N makes her move towards the basket, eyes locked on the hoop. But USC's Rayah Marshall has other plans. Desperate to regain possession, Marshall lunges forward, attempting to strip the ball from Y/N's grasp.

With nerves of steel, Y/N fights to maintain control, deftly maneuvering past Marshall's reach. But the intensity of the moment boils over as Marshall resorts to desperate measures, grabbing Y/N's shirt in a last-ditch effort to halt her progress.

Refusing to relinquish the ball, Y/N stands her ground, her determination unwavering despite the onslaught from USC's defense. With frustration mounting, USC's Malia Samuels joins the fray, attempting to pry the ball loose from Y/N's grip.

In a gripping display of strength and resilience, Y/N holds firm, refusing to yield to the pressure. With the whistle blowing, signaling a foul, Y/N's teammates rush to her aid, pulling her away from the heated confrontation.

"Babe, let it go," Nika urged, her grip firm as she restrained the pissed Y/N from returning to the commotion. Frustration etched on Y/N's face, she reluctantly released her hold on the ball, raising her hands in surrender.

With a defiant smirk, Y/N turned her attention to Samuels and Davis, who were being held back by their teammates. Locking eyes with them, she taunted them, a silent reminder of her unwavering resolve.

The foul earned them a free throw, a guaranteed point, bringing the score to 77-70. Paige wasted no time retrieving the ball and dashed across the court, her sights set on a crucial three-pointer. With just a minute left in the quarter, she aimed to ignite their momentum once more. However, USC had different plans. They intercepted the ball and sunk a three-pointer of their own.

With 45 seconds remaining, Y/N found herself in possession of the ball. She scanned her teammates for any openings, but USC's defense made scoring seem impossible.

"Miller, what the hell? Just do it!" she heard Paige yell, urging her to take action.

As she stood near the half-court line, Y/N hesitated. Shooting a three-pointer from this distance seemed like a near-impossible feat for her. In all her years of playing and practicing, she had never been known for her long-range shooting abilities— that was Bueckers' domain.

The pressure weighed heavy on her shoulders as she considered her options. Could she defy the odds and sink this shot when it mattered most? The doubt gnawed at her, but with time ticking away, she knew she had to make a decision—and fast. --

Y/N dashed toward her teammates after that long range 3 point shot, their jubilant cheers echoing across the court as the buzzer signaled the end of the match. With a final score of 80-73 against USC, victory was theirs. It had been a grueling game, but the satisfaction of triumph overshadowed any challenges they had during the game.

She scanned the crowd, searching for her dad. When their eyes met, she waved at him, a surge of emotion welling up inside her. Despite the divorce, his presence fueled her determination throughout the entire match. She wouldn't expect her mom to be here, though. Separating from her teammates, Y/N made her way to her dad and enveloped him in a bear hug.

"Congratulations, peanut. Looks like you guys are headed to the Final 4. I'm so proud of you. You were incredible out there today," her father exclaimed as they embraced. Y/N beamed with joy; they were moving on to the Final 4.

"Thanks, Dad. Having you here means the world to me," Y/N said, disentangling herself from her father's embrace and offering him an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you invite your teammates to dinner tonight?" her father suggested.

"Dinner? Where?" Y/N asked, confusion knitting her brows. Her dad typically leaves after the game to catch his flight back to California.

"Well... I just bought some property around Storrs. Maybe you could invite them over for a little house-warming party?" Her father scratched his head awkwardly.

Y/N blinked, trying to process what her dad had just said. He had bought property in Connecticut! Was this a permanent move? She didn't know, but the thought of not having to fly to California, or her dad not having to fly to Connecticut, made her genuinely happy.

"Right, of course. We can talk about this property later. I'll let my teammates know. See you later, Dad," Y/N said with a grin.

Skipping back to her teammates, who were still celebrating their advancement to the Final 4, Y/N felt a renewed sense of excitement.

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

Y/N basked in the euphoria of their victory during the post-game interview, the realization of her clutch shot sinking in only now. She credited it to luck, feeling grateful for the fortuitous moment.

As the reporters turned their attention to Paige, Y/N struggled to keep her composure, finding it hard to tear her gaze away from Paige's sinfully stylish sunglasses.

"So, Paige, any plans for the WNBA draft?" one of the reporters inquired. Paige paused for a moment, her playful gesture of licking her lips causing Y/N to roll her eyes.

"For now, I think our plan is to win the championship," Paige responded mischievously, leaving the reporter slightly disappointed.

Turning her attention to Y/N, another reporter chimed in, "Y/N, congratulations! That last three-point shot was incredible. How do you feel?"

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as the spotlight shifted to her, a sensation she wasn't accustomed to. In post-game interviews, it was typically Paige, Nika, Azzi, and KK who took the lead. Now, with all eyes on her, she struggled to find her footing.

"Uhh, well... we've been practicing, but I really didn't expect to make that shot from half-court," she replied timidly, her voice betraying her nerves. "You've recently gain the hearts of fans nationwide after you guys went live last week. They are interested to know you more since you seem to be inactive in social media"

The next question caught her off guard. Increasing fanbase? She hadn't realized her popularity was growing. The mention of the recent live session with Ice and her minimal social media presence made her realize she had inadvertently garnered attention.

"Firstly, I appreciate the love. But I tend to spend less time on my phone to focus on my daily activities," she responded genuinely. Becoming a social media star was the last thing on her mind; her life was already hectic, and the thought of dealing with the pressures of online fame felt overwhelming. "Do you have any plans for WNBA draft also? Are you going to sign under your mother's agency and let her represent you?"

The mention of the WNBA draft and her mother's agency caused a flicker of unease to pass over her features. Her teammates exchanged worried glances, and Paige shot dagger looks at the reporter who asked the question.

"W-well, just like Paige said, our focus right now is on the championship. We'll address any future plans when the time comes," Y/N replied with finality not addressing the mother question, offering the reporter a faint smile. The reporter didn't ask further questions and shifted their questions back to the game highlights. ----- After the post-game interview, the team celebrated inside the dugout, cheering once again for their victory. Geno delivered his speech, and everyone showered him with water afterward.

"Okay, okay, enough, everyone. We're not done yet. We have an upcoming match against Iowa. They're a tough team to beat, but I believe in your capabilities. For now, let's celebrate. You all can enjoy the night out. Slow down on the alcohol, and no fights—yes, I'm talking about you, Y/N," Geno warned. Y/N felt a weight on her shoulders, only to see Paige already had her arm over her shoulders.

"We'll be on our best behavior, coach," Paige said confidently, raising a thumbs-up, though doubt still lingered on Geno's face.

"Well, um, if you could, my father invites everyone for dinner. He just moved in,"

The team whistled at the invitation, they all agreed to come.

"Nice!" KK exclaimed. It would be their first time formally meeting Y/N's parent. They do see her father and exchange hellos whenever he is at the game, but they never got the chance to be formally introduced.

"Seems like a housewarming party. We haven't prepared anything, Y/N," Azzi said, a slight worry on her face.

"Don't bother, Az. It's just dinner, and it'll be us and my dad only."

All of them decided to come together to Y/N's father's newly bought house. Nika and KK kept teasing her as "richy rich" while they packed their stuff. No one just decides to buy a property on a whim during a divorce around Connecticut, knowing the estates are damn expensive.

In Y/N's defense, she is not rich; it is her father who could afford it, not her. While it is good to know her father moved here, Y/N will still remain in her apartment. She will give her father his own space, and she is old enough to be staying under her parents' roof.

-------

The house was beautiful when they arrived, a surprise to Y/N how her father managed to pull it off. It wasn't extravagant, fitting right in with the other houses in the Storrs neighborhood. Y/N suddenly felt embarrassed as they were greeted by their family chef in the kitchen. Her father didn't have to go this far by bringing their chef all the way from California. Her teammates exchanged glances, their anticipation evident as they looked forward to a rewarding full-course meal experience after a tough match. "Welcome girls and apologies for the short notice, thank you though for coming. Congratulations in your game earlier and I think you deserve this full course meal." Craig Miller greeted and the girls introduce theirselves, shaking hands with Y/N's father.

"Please, call me Craig. Well, I let you have your meal in peace. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask chef here, indulge yourselves."

The girls thanked Craig before they choose their respective seats. ----

Paige listened quietly while her teammates conversed. She responded from time to time, but the steak made it hard for her to stay fully engaged. It was the best meal she had ever tasted, and every bite felt like a reward after their victory against USC. She silently thanked Y/N's Father for arranging this feast and for their wealth, may they be continued to be blessed. Of course, she was only kidding about the latter, but she couldn't deny the unexpected level of luxury her family had.

What struck Paige the most was Y/N's humility. Despite their wealth, Y/N never flaunted it or mentioned the things she could afford. Paige's heart swelled with pride as she thought about how low-key Y/N had always been. She was privileged, but she never took advantage of it.

"Well, you can ask Paige, Craig. Her and Y/N are close even they banter all day." KK urged Craig, while looking towards Paige, a grin plastered on her face.

Paige literally choked on her mashed potatoes. If looks could kill, KK would be buried six feet under by now.

"Is that so?" Craig glanced at Paige and towards his daughter knowingly. Y/N just gave him a shrug.

"Well, can't help it, your daughter is neck and neck with Paige Bueckers," Y/N responded, her tone laced with airy amusement.

"How about you, Paige? I hope my daughter doesn't give you all a hard time; she can be a bit temperamental," Mr. Miller inquired with a chuckle.

"A little competition is good, Craig, and she's really good. I don't want to get on her bad side, though," Paige remarked, turning towards Y/N's direction and giving her a wink—a subtle reminder of the almost-brawl they had witnessed last week.

"I'm really glad you all got along. Y/N rarely invites her friends back to Stanford, so I haven't really gotten to know them," Mr. Miller remarked.

The mention of Y/N's Stanford friends piqued Paige's interest. Y/N had never mentioned anything aside from team practices, game highlights, and her MCL injury. Paige wondered what her friend's life was like during her time at Stanford. "Speaking of, why don't you invite Cameron here? If she is not busy. Have you two been calling each other?" Paige couldn't help but notice that Y/N's smile faltered at the mention of Cameron's name. She's suddenly itching of curiosity what's with Y/N and Cameron.

"She's busy, dad. Taking a break." Y/N answered shortly. "Oh okay." Craig didn't press further about Cameron. They continued until they finished the five-course dinner, thoroughly enjoying every bite. The girls praised the chef for the spectacular feast they had indulged in and of course Craig who then resigns to his study. He left them to take advantage of the house to rest or do what they want for the night.

-----

All of them decided to have Margaritas only on the patio. The firepit was already lit, warming the chilly air of spring . The girls decided to take some photos for the gram, capturing the essence of their post-game celebration night while the music blaring.

"Those USC players are tough; we should really watch out for Juju next season," Aubrey remarked, shaking her head in acknowledgment.

"Agree, it was nerve-racking earlier. I could feel the tension from the bench," Qadence added, nodding in agreement.

"We've got to prepare for Iowa next week. We'll be facing Clark. They're as hungry as we are," Azzi chimed in, emphasizing the importance of their upcoming game.

"Loosen up, suckers; we'll think about it tomorrow. Why don't we play some games until we wear each other out?" KK suggested, earning groans from her teammates.

"It's always chaos when you suggest games, K," Nikka remarked, leaning her head back and throwing a pillow towards KK.

"What? No. We won't move an inch. Plus, it's margarita night."

"Okay, bring it on, K. What are we playing?" Paige chimed in.

"Hm, something low-key. It's called Paranoia," KK replied with a mischievous grin. A whisper of doubt brushed against Paige, suggesting that this might not be a good idea. It seemed that KK was up to something mischievous. They all exchanged glances, silently contemplating whether they should play along with KK's suggestion.

"Okay, fine. How do we play?" Y/N clapped her hands.

"Easy, I'll be the starter. I'll just whisper a question about the group into the ear of the person on my left. The person who was asked the question replies out loud with their answer. If the person whose name was spoken or anyone curious wants to know what the question was, they take a drink. The person who said the name can either choose to respond or take a drink instead," KK explained, and the team listened eagerly, intrigued by the game's rule. "Man, that's boring. How did you even come up with the idea?" Paige objected, expressing her disinterest. "Come on now, Bueckers, don't be a killjoy," Y/N said, shooting Paige a glare. Paige felt herself gulp. She sat across Y/N.

They all settled into a circle, with KK sitting beside Azzi on her left and Ice on her right. Anticipation filled the air as KK started whispering to Ice, a mischievous grin forming on her lips.

"Ah, easy. It's Nika," Ice responded confidently.

Nika's head shot up. "What? What did I do?"

"Drink, girly, if you wanna know," KK replied with a wink, causing Nika to frown.

"I'm starting not to like this game," Nika muttered, declining to take a shot to find out.

"Don't be a buzzkill, Ice, next to your left," KK instructed, keeping the game going.

Anticipation filled the air again as Ice whispered to Y/N this time. Y/N burst out laughing.

"Easy, peasy. Paige," Y/N replied with a grin, causing all eyes to turn towards Paige, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What?" Paige asked curiously, but Ice and Y/N only exchanged grins.

"Drink up, P. It's just a Margarita," Ice nudged Paige, urging her to take a shot.

"Hell no," Paige rejected the Margarita firmly, refusing to play along.

"Come on, guys, I'd rather have a hangover than a crippling anxiety," KK mused, acknowledging Paige's reluctance to participate further in the game.

"Final answer, P?" Ice asked Paige one last time, hoping she'd give in and take the shot.

"No thanks." Paige answered while making a face.

"Alrighty, mighty. Come here, Aubrey," Y/N leaned towards Aubrey on her left and whispered.

Aubrey pondered for a moment, not giving an answer right away.

"I think... Paige," Aubrey finally replied, her choice causing a stir among the group, more like to Paige only.

"What the fuck is even the question?" Paige reacted violently, but her teammates didn't seem to care as Y/N and Aubrey high-fived each other.

"Told ya, that's why it's called Paranoia for a reason, P," KK remarked with a smirk, enjoying the chaos she had stirred up.

"But I'm curious, so I'll take a shot. So what was the question, Y/N?" KK sipped from her margarita, intrigued by the mystery.

"If we're going to play a team mode in Fortnite, among KK, Azzi, Nika, Me, and Paige, who are you not going to choose?" Y/N revealed, causing a collective gasp from the group.

"Wait, that's not fair! Give me a break. I'm a much better player than Azzi!" Paige protested, sensing the injustice in the situation.

They all grinned at Paige. "You suck, P," Qadence chirped.

Paige surrendered. It was one against all.

"Aubrey, your turn," Aubrey, who then whispered to Aaliyah. Aaliyah immediately responded "Paige."

"What the fuck," Paige muttered, feeling increasingly targeted.

"Still not drinking, P?" Ice teased.

"I don't know, you guys. It seems like you all want me to have a hangover," Paige remarked, still refusing to touch her margarita. If it were a Shirley Temple, she'd gladly chug it down.

"Alright, Ines. Your turn," Aaliyah whispered next to Ines, who answered without hesitation, "Y/N."

It was Y/N's turn to be curious. "Hold up," Y/N said, taking a sip of her margarita. "Okay, what is it?" she asked, curious about the question that had been whispered to Ines. "Who do you think is the most attractive player you will date if given a chance to?" The group fell silent, waiting for Y/N's response to the revealing question.

"Oh wow. really? Thank you, I guess?" Y/N response elicited a mixture of laughter and awkwardness from the group as they processed her answer.

"Ines got a little crush on our girly here," KK teased, while also giving Paige a knowing look, which only added to the playful banter among the group. Ines on the hand, blushed as Y/N joined teasing her too. For some reason it annoyed Paige. KK's game will seriously ruin some friendship.

"Alright, you next Paigey."

Paige shook off her annoyance and allowed Ines to lean towards her to whisper her question.

"From which school did the person you liked go to?" Ines asked quietly, sparking curiosity among the group about Paige's response.

Paige's eyes briefly landed on Y/N, who was obliviously chatting with Aaliyah. She quickly looked away before she could linger and get caught.

"Stanford," Paige responded quietly, her gaze fixed on the firepit, hoping her answer wouldn't draw too much attention. The group went silent. "Wait, wait, wait, I'm curious. What's the question?" Azzi asked, breaking the tension with a drink. One by one, KK, Nika, Aubrey, Ice, and finally Y/N followed suit, each taking a sip, eager to discover the secret question that had been whispered to Paige.

"What? Fuck no! This game is over," Paige declared, her frustration evident as she refused to continue playing. "Paigey, you're a buzzkill. Come on Ines, let's have a team huddle."

They all had a team huddle, excluding Paige, to discuss Ines's question.

The whispering turned into collective murmurs of surprise after Ines spilled the question. Y/N met Paige's eyes and gave her a teasing look.

"Ah, I know who! I remember how you look at Hannah Jump!" Y/N exclaimed, prompting a mix of laughter and gasps from the group, most likely from KK.

Fuck this shit! Paige mentally cursed, feeling embarrassed by the revelation. Paige felt a surge of frustration at Y/N's teasing remark, for someone who has high IQ in basketball, she is dense.

What the hell just happened? She'll kill KK and never ever let her suggest stupid games next time. "Nice one, P! Hannah Jump, huh?" KK patted her on the shoulders, still laughing, but Paige only offered a tight-lipped smile in response, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. "I'll kill you later K."

---------- Will have a bit more of Y/N and Paige's interaction in the next chapters.

[adorethedistance]

I Don’t Just Like You - Trevor Zegras x Hughes!Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, tension/fighting, jealousy, Dixie lmao

Words: 2161

Summary: Tension builds with Trevor over his new partnership until the two of you confess your feelings.

A/n: Y'all I am so not doing well rn. I am processing a break up and questioning my social circle and im so lonely that I needed to write some angst to cope with it all. Hope yall like this one and maybe it'll get a smut part two depending on whether or not I can handle writing that rn lol. Enjoy!

Moose: call me ASAP

Me: sorry Luke. can’t rn

Moose: Awesome 😎

My hands quake with anxiety as I fiddle with the tarnished silver ring adorning my pointer finger. The moisture of my skin eases the movement of turning the ring around my finger. I hiss when the gemstone catches on the skin of my middle finger and immediately drop my hands. 

Currently, I’m staring down at the risky text I just sent Trevor. About an hour ago he had messaged me:

Trev: hey sorry can’t swing tn after all 

Trev: rain check?

My jaw tightens with contempt and I huff out a sigh as my bottom lip trembles. I feel pathetic for just how impacted I am by his every word. I angrily hit the digital keys of my phone’s keyboard as I type my reply.

Me: really? 

Me: again??

Trev: don’t be like that

I’m not the most confrontational person. On any given day some might say I’m the furthest thing from confrontational. To put it rather plainly, I just don’t like it. I hate the way I get anxiety butterflies in my stomach. I hate absorbing the emotions of the other person, especially when rejection is involved. I hate what projections I’m opening myself up to receiving from the other person. There are too many pitfalls and not enough landing pads. Which is why it’s so out of character for me to press him on this.

Me: like what Trev?

This is the third time in a row Trevor has cancelled plans on me. I don’t know if he’s aware of that. I don’t even know what he’s been up to lately. He’s refused to tell me what he’s been doing instead, which didn’t raise my suspicions by any means until mom sent me an article. She knows about how my crush on Trevor has had roots in our childhoods. 

Trev: you know what I’m talking about

After I stopped playing hockey with my brothers, I was still always around to notice Trevor’s presence in our home. When I moved to California for college, I wanted to chase my music dreams but I didn’t realize it would come at the expense of my support system. Being long distance with my family put me in a hard spot, but having a familiar face to rely on made the adjustment easier. As we spent more time together independent of my brothers, Trevor and I became close friends. The problem was my crush has been growing ever since we became friends, hence why mom sent me an article called, “Did Dixie D’Amelio admit to dating Trevor Zegras?”.

Me: at least say it with your chest

Sent. Delivered. I wait. Trevor’s response bubble appears for a second. It disappears, then reappears, then disappears again. I’m about ready to toss my phone across the room when his message delivers.

Trev: call me

I groan out in frustration and this time actually end up chucking my phone onto my bed. I run my hands through my hair, along the warm expanse of my scalp. A self-soothing gesture by all means. I pace to one side of my room before using the momentum of my steps to start back towards my phone. Just as I have it in my hand, Trevor’s contact picture covers the screen and illuminates in my grasp. I scoff out a sort of half groan and then answer.

“What, Trevor?”

“Hey, Y/n I’m great. Thanks for asking! How are you?” He responds sardonically to my cold greeting. I bite my tongue, torn between tearing into him and the stronger desire to laugh through my rage. He takes my exhale as a cue to continue. “What’s going on, Hughesy?”

In a single moment, my anger dissolves. The tenderness of that nickname, which was once reserved solely for my brothers, now belongs to me. In this moment, I find myself thinking about how grateful I am that Trevor was there for me as I transitioned into college. But the looming threat of a smile quickly vanishes as I remember how that care is nullified by Trevor’s abundantly active dating life.

“Y/nnnn?” Trevor hums into the phone.

“What?” I respond dryly.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is you cancelling on me for the third time in a row.”

“Is it really the third time in a row?” He asks under his breath, indicating he may not have intended to say it out loud at all. I roll my eyes, still actively fighting the urge to just lay into him.

“Yes, Trevor, it is!” I can practically hear him wince through the phone at the fact that I’m calling him Trevor instead of the default nickname permanently programmed into my phone. 

“Who’s that?” I hear softly over the phone. My heart flutters like a coal mine parakeet in a cage and I bite my lip, willing myself not to cry if it turns out Dixie is on the other side. Trevor whispers back,

“It’s Y/n.”

“Hey, Y/n!” Mason’s on the other end. 

“Not a good time,” Trevor tells him. Mason curses and then apologizes before retreating from Trevor’s general area. “Sorry, you were saying?” Trevor tells me at regular volume.

“You were cancelling on me again.”

“Oh. Right. I…” he switches the phone to the other ear, “I…don’t know what you want me to say.” Hello?! Could he be any more oblivious?!

“I want you to tell me what is going on!” I whine into the phone, “What is it you’re so busy with doing that you can’t see me for a week, huh? I get that you’re a professional athlete and you have a busy schedule. But I know your schedule and I know you still have a decent amount of free time. So what have you been doing?” Trevor breathes, in, then out and says,

“I’ve been seeing someone lately…” I feel my heart shatter into the tiniest fractals of what it once was and I cover my mouth to choke back the growing lump in my throat.

“I can’t do this right now,” I say with the utmost hurt lacing my voice, pulling the phone away from my ear to abruptly hang up on Trevor. I toss my phone on my bed once more, ignoring how the screen lights up with Trevor’s contact picture. It’s a new breed of psychological torture to sit here and ignore the calls, so I leave my phone in my bedroom as I go to splash cold water on my face. 

When I reenter my bedroom, I ignore the buzzing device to put on a comfortable pair of pajamas. He’s called once, twice, a fourth, and a fifth before finally giving up. Despite my phone being silent, I don’t trust it enough to take it with me and leave it to charge on my bed. I settle on the couch to open my new pint of Ben and Jerry’s, putting on my favorite show in the hopes of laughing through the pain. 

Somewhere between first and second episode, I had dozed off after returning the ice cream to the freezer. I’m not sure what it is about crying that knocks me on my ass like that, all I know is that it works. 

I’m abruptly pulled from my sleep when I hear the harsh banging on my front door. I jump up from the couch, the spike in adrenaline carrying me out of my sleepy haze. When I get to the front door, some of the tiredness catches up with me again and I groggily open the front door. Behind it stands Trevor, with sad puppy eyes and a sheepish expression. I can’t help the scowl that comes to rest on my face when I see him, but he doesn’t falter. Instead, he pushes past me to come into the apartment and sits on the couch expectantly. Since there’s no way to physically remove him from my space, I bargain, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, as far from Trevor as I can manage. He doesn’t let the cold gesture phase him, and scooches obliviously into the center of the couch.

“What’s going on Hughsey?” I scoff at the nickname and Trevor cringes in frustration. “What is this?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Why are you icing me out all of a sudden?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, spiteful, with malice. 

“Clearly not since I’m here spending time with you.”

“Was that so hard for you to do? I mean, with your busy schedule and all?”

“What are you-” Trevor pauses for a split second. “Wait, are you… jealous? Y/n?”

I want to protest. I want to scream and rant and bite back, how he could be so conceited to think I’d be jealous of a relationship that I previously thought was rumored? But I can’t. 

Because he’s right.

I bite my tongue. There’s nothing else I can do. Not unless I want to make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have.

“Oh my god, that’s totally it. You’re jealous.” Trevor says, complete with a laugh and a sigh. The shame of actually being jealous of a girl I’ve never met, the disappointment of finding out Trevor is dating someone, and the exhaustion from already having cried earlier comes collapsing down on me at once. Hot tears well on the lining of my lashes and I stare at the ground, afraid to draw attention to myself. Upon seeing me cry, Trevor’s smile immediately vanishes and he scoots closer once more.

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay.” He envelops me in a hug that I’m too overwhelmed to reciprocate. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” 

I merely shake my head, unaware of what I could even say in this moment.

“I was… I was just laughing ‘cause I should’ve known.”

“Should’ve known what?”

“That you’d be jealous.” I wriggle out of the hug and look at Trevor sincerely.

“How would you have known?”

“You know, for as long as I can remember, your brothers have talked about you having a crush on me.” I cower in humiliation, my face glowing hotter than the surface of the sun.

“I wish they wouldn’t have.”

“No?” Trevor asks, genuinely.

“It’s embarrassing,” I confess, fully recoiling from the physical contact he had initiated before. 

“It’s cute.” Trevor earnestly admits as he takes my hand in his. I scoff instinctively but don’t pull my hand away again.

“I don’t need your pity, Trev.” I say so softly he nearly misses the sentiment. Once he processes my worlds, I feel him physically relax next to me at the sound of his familiar nickname.

“Well, what do you need? I’m here now.”

“I honestly don’t know.” I finally dare to meet his eyes. He’s looking at me so sweetly, earnestly. As if I hadn’t just chewed him out two minutes earlier. Then, I look away before I can say what I’m about to say next. “I don’t just like you.” Trevor’s face lifts ever so slightly. The extent of which, one might miss had they not known him a lifetime the way I have.

 “You know… the only reason I started seeing her was to get over you.”

“What?” I ask, sharply whipping my head to stare at Trevor, as if awaiting the reveal that this was just some elaborate prank from the start.

“Yeah. I started dating Dixie because I thought dating someone different would distract me. You know, it’s not a good look to have a crush on your best friend’s little sister.”

My heartrate picks up with his confession. This feels too good to be true. As if real life is waiting for us right outside the front door. The real life that doesn’t see me and Trevor together ever in our lifetimes. Terrified of the change that would occur from letting him walk away, I reach up and hold his face in my hands, kissing him passionately. Trevor wraps his hand around my wrist and kisses me back with twice as much fervor. 

We break apart, out of breath and full of smiles. Trevor looks at me for guidance and we fizzle into a nervous laughter. I reach up and brush my thumb tenderly across his cheekbone. He grabs my hand and turns his head, placing a sweet kiss on my palm. I then reach up and break the moment by ruffling my hand through his hair to mess it up.

“Hey!” He yells, grabbing waist to dig his hands into my sides. I screech with laughter as I try to escape. Trevor eventually yields and slips his hands from my sides to interlace with one another and pull me closer. I scoot in to sit against him, sitting half on top of him as our breathing falls in sync.

“I don’t just like you, too, Hughesy.” I smile.

“...You should probably call Dixie.”

“Oh shit.”

***

A/N: not my best work but not my worst either!

[mydearchoso]

a/n: i work at a museum and occasionally get to run the planetarium. the white noise of the audio tower is great listening for when you wanna daydream about getting fucked by ur fav. um otherwise, idk if i really like this. just a blurb from while i'm bored at work. not proofread/edited.

pair: anyone you want, really. i personally was thinking about sukuna, choso, gojo, or geto throughout it (i'm a whore).

cw: exhibitionism, creampie, unprotected, quickie, kinda just tainting a 'pure' place? idk. museums, to me, have always been a place of good intentions and the like.

you're braced against the counter that lies behind the screen of the planetarium, your foot hitting the stool that's left there for staff as George Takei's honeyed voice informs you of the solar system. a hushed "shit." leaving your lips as you find your balance.

meanwhile, your skin-tight jeans are getting pulled to your mid-thigh, panties in tow as large hands grope you. pushing the shirt of your uniform up your back for a better view.

"gotta be quiet, darling." he speaks lowly in your ear, pressing the bulge in his jeans against your bare core. "w'only got twenty minutes."

then suddenly his hands are off your waist, two fingers entering your damp hole as you hear a zipper move and clothes shuffling as he pulls his cock out, starting to stroke the length slowly. his fingers curling and prodding gently inside you, slowly. an attempt to prep you without being too loud, quick to add a third finger in his hushed rush.

whether it's his impatience or the way you're starting to leak, you don't know, but suddenly your cunt is empty and cold. then suddenly, he's pushing his head past the tight ring of muscle. groaning ever so quietly. all for you, just for you.

he leans over you, ghosting his chest over your back as his right hand comes to rest by yours on the counter. his breathing shallow in your ear as he tries to contain the sounds of pleasure he so desperately wants to air to the audience. and you, you can't help the soft whimpers that pour from your lips as though they were molasses, sweet, dense, viscous... and something he can't help but want to swallow.

he brings his left hand up from your waist to tilt your head towards his, kissing you firmly as his tongue gently begins to play with yours. sheathing himself completely inside of you. he lets out a filthy moan into your mouth, shuddering a little as he pauses.

swallowing his moan, you topple forward a little, having to be as quiet as possible while regaining your balance beneath his frame. while you're panting against his lips, his hips start to draw back, length dragging and catching on your pretty walls. biting back his moans as he pushes his head into the crook of your neck, his left hand moving from your jaw to cover your mouth. the only way he can ensure your silence as he starts a steady pace.

he fucks into you for several minutes, curling his hips with each thrust to reach that delicious spot inside you as he does. over time, you feel his dick start to twitch. by that time, he's bringing his hand off the counter and down to your clit. rubbing in haphazard circles, desperate to feel your release around him. alternating between these frantic movements and pinching your clit between his thumb and pointer finger. enjoying the way you jumped up and away from him. of course, only to be met by his hand, and the strong arm that held you in place.

lifting his head from your neck, he whispers into your ear. "i'm gonna need you to cum on my dick, gorgeous. we're not done here until you do." to emphasize this, he resumes his quick, small circles that are all but timed with his thrusts. enjoying how your body shivers and flinches beneath him.

as his movements start to grow sloppy, he slows. softly kissing your neck as he focuses on your pulsing bud, moaning quietly into your back when he feels your walls flutter.

while he's devoted all his attention to you, you're currently gripping the counter in front of you like you're trying to break it. the frantic movements causing the coil in your stomach to tighten. breath hitching as you whimper thoughtlessly into his hand. rocking forward onto your toes in an attempt to escape his considerate efforts.

this attempt does you no good though, as his considerate... efforts are no longer as kind as you first thought. he needed you to cum, no matter what it took to get you there. his fingers becoming rougher on the sensitive nub when finally, the coil snaps and you're spasming beneath him. legs shaking wearily as you remain on your toes, counter creaking beneath your palms as you lean even further onto it, and his pace suddenly becoming desperate once more. struggling against your walls that clasp down around him so tightly.

finally, he lets some of his weight fall onto you, his shuddering, whiny breaths in your ear as he spills into you. staying their as he shivers agains your back, his own pleasure mimicking yours. then, with a small grunt, he's moved away from you. pulling your panties up before stepping farther back, returning himself to an orderly presentation as you do the same.

a few more minutes of awkward silence passes as Takei finishes his thoughts, and then your partner in crime is moving to open the heavy doors for the crowd. after a few minutes, the room is cleared and you hear the doors thud shut as you check the floor for lost items. as you stand up after retrieving a stray wallet, you feel a hand on the small of your back.

"We should do that again some time."

[insuke69]

Imagining Hobie being so fucking clingy when you’re gone on a vacation or something:(((

★ Headcannons with Hobie x Latinx reader <;33

☆ Warnings: fluff, ‘implied’ smut (yes, they fuck in a memory), explicit words.

__________________

——————

You’re off visiting family, away from Hobie just for a short visit since it’s a younger cousins fifteenth birthday.

You aren’t close with her but she adores you like an older sibling so why not? Two weeks isn’t that long anyway since you also would like to catch up with the very little non-toxic Hispanic family you have.

The flight is smooth besides the fact that it was over two hours of no service, songs on repeat in your headphones, and the book you’re so happy you remembered to pack.

______

You forget the time difference between Hobie in Camden and you over here, for you it’s midday and for him it’s the middle of the night and he seems so.. desperate.

His texts are slow and it’s obviously being done by his singular non dominant hand.

“Hi can you pls send a pic”

“2 me”

“Please??”

On your end, it’s almost so clear that he wants to see you like the good adorable partner he is, already missing you. You send him an innocent picture where you’re holding your phone at an angle above you and smile up at it through your lashes.

Meanwhile Hobie..

Hobie always would have an arm around you, or holding your hand, or his lips on any part of skin he could access on you.

He was alone on his houseboat, laying on only his side of the bed even if the usually warm and used spot beside him was empty and void of his lover.

He didn’t like the idea of porn, even if he was ‘living the dream’ of most men where his partner wasn’t around to stop him, he still hated it. It was fake and unrealistic with plastic or disgustingly young looking actors, so he settled for closing his eyes and thinking of the one who’s truely his.

Remembering how pretty the little whines were as they escaped your lips when he slowly eased himself into your tight warm hole..

And before he knew it; he was palming his erecting and fumbling his phone to text you.

His breath shudders slightly at the sight of you and he began imagining how your adoring hand would look around his length, his own fist trying to imitate his imagination tightly.

How your lips would wrap around the head of his weeping cock, how your cheeks would hollow out and make it all disappear, those cute gag sounds and tears that threaten your eyes when your nose reaches the small trimmed bush at the base of his member.

You fully expect a normal response from Hobie in a way. Anything ranging from “You look nice td” to something dirty, hence why you’re positioned in a way where nobody around you could see your phone screen.

Instead, a voice message pops up and a part of you wants to hesitate in checking what it is because you know that Hobie doesn’t really send voice messages unless his hands are really busy.

You play it against your ear quietly and your heart bangs against your chest at how needy his voice is, his gulps and whimpers and you can only imagine how beautiful he looks right now.

“Oh my fuckin’.. you’re so good lookin’ for me, I need ya so bad righ’ now.” You can hear his heavy breaths in the message and slight rhythmic sound, fap fap fap fap.

It immediately makes your heat grow warm between your legs and you adjust yourself in your seat with your thighs together tightly as an attempt to ease this, knowing that you’re at a nice fancy restaurant for your cousins ‘birthweek’.

You decide to excuse yourself to the bathroom and be a little more generous with Hobie, locking yourself into a stall and sending him a better picture where you’re topless and your chest and abdomen in perfect sight, pointer finger and middle finger holding a nipple between them.

“Here’s your damn meal <3” you captioned it before sending, putting your shirt back on as you awaited his response.

It was a video this time, angled so you could see his pretty dick being desperately fucked in his ringed left hand.

his eyebrows are knitted together and his mouth is dropping the cutest curses and whimpers before he cums, his seed spurting out onto his abdomen and hand before his lips move to utter a whisper.

"I need ya so bad, can't wait 'till you're back, love."

[sarahs-secrets2]

Gotcha! ˋ♡ˊ

leon kennedy x reader! (any leon you desire!!)

maybe laser tag wasn't the best idea for a date night...

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

ZAP!  The plastic light-up vest illuminated a bright blue, vibrating slightly. You had been hit. 

“Gotta be quicker next time.” Well aware you were on a thirty-second cool down after being shot, Leon chuckled walking out from behind a wall. He held the laser gun like it was real, never letting his guard down. “Remember this date was your idea,” Leon laughed as he jogged off into a new hiding spot. 

Defeat was putting how you felt, lightly. You thought a laser tag date would be cute, something fun to get you both out of the house. Wrong. Seemingly you had completely forgotten that; 1) Your boyfriend was professionally trained in combat and how to use a firearm, which both skills had seamlessly transferred to laser tag, and 2) how competitive he got. 

“Leon,” your voice echoed through the dark maze-like room. You were ready to wave the white flag, get some ice cream, go home, and maybe even watch a movie. Laser tag had been fun for all of five minutes before Leon started treating it like one of his missions. “Leon, I’m ready to go home,” still no answer. Glancing at the mini screen on the plastic gun the neon green writing flashed back your stats, Rank 2 out of 2. Who would've guessed?

With Leon still hiding, you began to wander around hoping to find him before he found you (or before the match ended). Having nothing to lose at this point, you decided to get some high ground and walked up the ramp to the second level. Still no sign of Leon. This place wasn't even that big yet he still managed to be undetectable. 

Walking over to the edge, you peered over the wall trying to see if Leon was even in the building anymore. Your eyes scanned the room, trying to spot him amidst the random colored lights and abundance of corners to hide in. Finally, there he was. Leon was running and leaning up against walls, surveying the area, and then running to a different wall as he tried to find you. Stifling a giggle, you crouched down so he wouldn't spot you. Balancing the laser gun on the ledge, holding your breath as you aimed, and crossing your fingers, you pulled the trigger.

ZAP! Leon’s vest illuminated bright red.

“Gotcha!” You shouted from the second floor, jumping out and down from excitement. Leon looked dumbfounded, how did you even get up there without him noticing? You made your way back down to the main floor where Leon stood still trying to figure out the logistics of how you got him. “Guess you just have to be quicker next time babe,” repeating his words back to him you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 

Right on cue, the lights flickered on and the crackly loudspeaker directed you to the exits. Leon threw his arm around your shoulders pulling you close as the two of you walked out together, “Maybe I need to take some pointers from you next time,” he smiled. Your head nuzzled into his chest, feeling very accomplished despite your screen still reading, Rank 2 out of 2.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

[highwaytcheaven]

Lucifer being a dad™️ part 2

If anyone is watching something interesting on tv, he will stand with his hands either in his pockets or behind his back as he watches the show or film. He will literally stand like that for half an hour and claims that he’s just curious as he moves from one spot to another.

Eventually sits down after complaints from his brothers.

Travelling within the human world? Airport dad mode activated.

I know he has back problems, and hunches over at his desk when no one is around.

Attends every sports event that Beel is in. Would definitely brag to others about how amazing Beel is.

MC would say how they like a certain food and Lucifer would buy said food in bulk for them.

Doesn’t really understand technology and always asks Levi to help him.

He holds his phone so close to his face and types/scrolls with his pointer finger, bonus points if he squints at the screen.

Definitely has one of those kiss the chef aprons.

I feel like he secretly owns the one staple dad outfit. You know with the white socks, training shoes and shorts along with a corny graphic shirt.

MC probably found it when looking for a spare shirt of his to sleep in.

MC: What’s this Lucifer?

Lucifer: PRETEND YOU SAW NOTHING MC!

Definitely does the old knee slap when he gets up or when he tells a joke.

Reads the newspaper on a morning with his glasses as he sips his black coffee.

Yawns 24/7. Silently reading a book? Be prepared to hear Lucifer’s loud yawns.

Is actually really good at cutting/styling hair. I hc that he used to cut his brother’s hair when in the Celestial Realm and still does it for them in the Devildom.

Would definitely braid/play with MC’s hair.

Sofa naps are a common occurrence. It has become a normal thing to see Lucifer sprawled on the sofa snoring his head off. It’s so common that it could rival Belphie.

If I can come up with more I’ll definitely make a part 3!

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ 3:19 AM ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. earth-42 miles morales x fem! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. both y/n and miles smoke weed, short mentions of some injuries

: ̗̀➛ a/n. feel free to laugh and correct me on any fucked up spanish because i highly doubt google translate will be accurate and 4 years of high school spanish can only get one so far /3 the 42! miles brain rot I’m suffering from is LETHAL

Every few minutes a gust of wind would send shivers down your spine and poke chill bumps into your skin as air blew through the cracked bedroom window. You did your best to block out the chaotic sounds of sirens and the occasional arguments and fights breaking out in the streets below the apartment complex by turning up the speaker playing soothing music ever so slightly to combat them. Striding across the room, the smell of lavender, citrus, and maybe just a hint of cherry blossoms filled your nostrils and the room as you carefully lit incense and candles scattered across the desk in the corner of the room, before using the same lighter to re-ignite the joint hanging from between your pointer and middle finger.

Bringing it up to your lips, you took a long drag before releasing it and making an attempt to blow towards the crack and avoid stinking up the room with the stench of weed and burning paper, hence the candles and cracked window.

When you flopped back onto the made bed after setting your joint in the ash tray, your gaze turned from the dimly lit ceiling to the glowing red alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to you, 3:19 AM.

Reaching for your phone charging next to it, you squinted at the screen before using Face ID to unlock it, your previous messages with Miles already being displayed seeing as you couldn’t stop checking to see if there were any updates.

5:15 PM

M&M <3: Something came up, got some business with Uncle Aaron. I’m going to be late.

You: we still on for movie night ? :(

M&M <3: Of course, wait for me til then? Give me til 11.

You: i’ll keep your spot warm :) stay safe, i love you &lt;3

M&M &lt;;3: Te amo, Ma.

5:19 PM

You: oh!!! tell aaron i said hey 2, haven’t been around to visit n a while😞

12:01 AM

You: everything good?

12:45 AM

You: a little worried, txt me back when you can :(

2:00 AM

You: ?

Despite trying your best to ignore the nightly chaos ensuing outside, it was becoming increasingly hard to do so when your boyfriend of many years had recently admitted to being the Prowler and spending most of the nights he wasn’t with you out in the city carrying out orders on behalf of Kingpin, especially when he’d texted you earlier that day planning to be back by 11 at latest for a movie night, only to follow up a few hours later saying that something had come up.

He’d assured you when he first broke the news that he’d always come back home to you, but that never stopped you from worrying every once in a while that something awful would occur that was out of his control. Especially when he wasn’t replying to any of your attempts to check up on him.

What if he’d been captured? What if it was a mission Aaron sent him on and he somehow screwed it up? What if someone had screwed him over? A rouge villain? An assassination gone wrong? A stray bullet he couldn’t dodge fast enough? What if-

Creak.

Your unintentional spiraling into horrific ‘what if’ scenarios was interrupted by the sound of rusted metal grinding against another, your head tilting up in less than a second to see a clawed hand further pushing up your window frame.

‘Speak of the devil.’

The relieved expression on your face couldn’t be hidden as you nearly jumped up from your spot on the bed to his side as he crawled through your window, with an admittedly suspicious gait when he stepped back from the window.

“You’re back! What took so long?” You chirped as you stood. Normally you would’ve avoided bombarding him with questions as soon as he’d come back, seeing as he’d likely already been dealing with enough before arriving, but he’d never come home this late before.

The plates on his mask pulled back to show his gorgeous, as usual, yet tired face behind it, exhaustion pulling at the ends of his lips. “Lo siento mami, tomó más tiempo de lo que pensaba, I got caught up with some bad people,” he hummed while carefully removing his clawed hands and leaving them resting in your desk, the rest of his geared suit coming off after until he was left in just his shirt and some nice sweatpants. Without all of the extra gear, you had a better chance to size him up before he pulled you into his embrace.

You suspected he kept it brief to avoid/distract you from worrying about him, which was hard to do when you noticed the slight discoloration on his ankle when part of his pant leg moved and his attempt to not put as much pressure on that foot when he walked, paired with the way his nose scrunched when he moved and his right side of his torso flexed.

Part of you admired his dedication to protecting you from knowing too much about what he did as the Prowler and trying to be a role model for you. The other part of you thought he was a fool for not letting you in and allowing you to help, which you often voiced your opinion on.

“They had you at it for hours? Are you alright?” You buried your face into his chest to get a whiff of his cologne and what you were sure was a hint of blood and outside. He mirrored your actions by resting his head on top of yours, making you appreciate past you for choosing to oil your scalp earlier that night.

“I’m alright, but why are you still up? I’ve told you about-” “I’m awake-” you cut your boyfriend off before he could start to lecture you, which you didn’t want to hear no matter how much you loved his accent, “because my boyfriend promised to be home for movie night but instead left me worrying for his safety all night then has the nerve to lie to me when he finally makes it back hours later.”

A look you’d learned was his attempt at hiding his guilty conscience crossed his face before he rose a brow at your accusation of lying. “Wait, wha-” this time he cut himself off when your arm slithered back from around his waist and you used to fingers to dig into his side, causing Miles to jerk back and wince, holding his side.

"¡Hijo de puta! What’s your deal Y/N?! Eso duele como el infierno! Jesus-”

You tried (and failed) to hold back from giggling at his irritated gaze before grabbing him by both hands and leading him to your bed, practically forcing him to sit down at the edge, not that he tried to fight back.

“Consider it karma, Miles. If you’re gonna go out and do dangerous shit at least don’t lie to my face about it,” you tsked, kneeling down as you ignored the pointed glare and mean mug he sent your way as his nose scrunched and he muttered something under his breath about you being cruel. Lifting the side of his shirt up, you eyed the damage his assumed rivals must have caused before he came, black and purple bruises littering his side in different colors and shades. You sucked your teeth, looking up at him with narrowed eyes which he only responded with by looking off to the side and biting the inside of his cheek.

Moving down, you pulled his pant leg up to see matching colors on his ankle, and given his previous limp you’d have to take a guess as to what happened. He hardly ever let you treat him in any capacity, which was mostly due to him feeling the need to always be treating you, but judging from the look in your eyes Miles knew he didn’t really have a choice this go round.

“It looks sprained, and those bruises are gonna take forever to heal. Do you need an ice pack?” “Please.” You we’re already rising to your seat, not waiting for a response before you quickly and quietly left your room to go retrieve one from the kitchen without waiting your parent(s).

When you returned, you were carrying an ice pack, along with some bandages to keep it in place and a small snack just in case he hadn’t eaten in a while, and knowing how he gets when he prioritizes being the Prowler over everything else, he likely hasn’t. He’d taken the liberty of finishing off the rest of your joint, evident by the evidence still being in his hand and the smoke blown into your mouth when you leaned in for a quick deep kiss before kneeling once again to work on his ankle the best you could. You were by no means a professional, but your attempt was better than leaving it alone and your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to.

As you worked in silence the initial tension in the air seemed to ease up, partially due to the weed, but you couldn’t help but still be slightly bothered by how worried you’d been for him. Yeah, he made it back relatively okay this time despite his lateness, but what about next time, and the time after that?

“Y/N.”

Miles’ voice pulled you out of your thoughts, mainly due to the fact that he hardly ever called you by your first name, and you realized that you’d been quietly staring at the floor for a while after finishing up treating his injuries. You could feel him reach down to grab both your hands and pull you up to his feet until you were standing between both of his legs looking down at him.

“You worry too much,” he started, but that didn’t help at all to ease your mind. “You don’t worry enough! Miles, you were supposed to be here hours ago. How can you expect me to just sit around and go about my normal routine knowing that you’re out their risking your life nearly every night? I can’t do that for you and you know that!”

Miles felt guilt creeping up his throat, this felt like a long overdue conversation. “I don’t expect that of you, but what do you want me to do mami? I can’t just drop out and you know that. All of this- I do it for you, for us, you know I can’t just back out now, it’s my only sense of normalcy ever since-” he didn’t finish his sentence, but you didn’t need him to. You couldn’t bear to look him in eyes, your heartstrings tugging painfully at the reminder of how he ended him the way he was now.

You’d been there for him through the worst of it, when his father died, when the city went to shit. It was awful for a very long time, your only glimpse of hope being when Miles seemingly started regaining a sense of who he was long after the fact. You’d been happy for him, encouraging him to go out more and constantly reminding him that you were there for him. Unbeknownst to you, the “healthy” outlet he’d been using to cope with the fact was sneaking out with his Uncle to commit crimes on behalf of some of the worst known criminals. You’d be lying if you said you approved, that you were okay with what he did and that you thought Miles was too, but you’d learned to accept it on account of the fact that there really wasn’t any other option. You knew you couldn’t even entertain the thought of not always being by his side, you needed him just as much as he needed you.

You couldn’t argue with his point and couldn’t hold eye contact, trying to look off to the side to avoid his hardened gaze but he was quick to gently take hold of your chin and turn your head back to him, making a warm feeling crawl up your neck.

“Siento haberte preocupado, mi amor. Do you remember the promise I made you when I first told you?” He asked.

It was a random callback, but you remember it as clear as day, the night you’d shown up at Miles’ house to surprise him with a gift you found at the mall which reminded you of him, sitting in his room awaiting his return only for him to crawl in through the window clad in Prowler gear mid-unmasking. You swore you could still occasionally hear the sound of your jaw hitting the floor.

“You promised that you’d never keep another secret from me,” you recalled with a small sigh, feeling your shoulders drop.

“And?”

“And…that no matter what you’d always come back home to me.”

“Dije que nunca te dejaré esperando a alguien que nunca volverá a casa,” Miles’ hands caressed your sides before falling still at your hips. “I promised to always, no matter what, come back, no?”

Your hands fell down to his shoulders, tilting your head until your foreheads were touching and you could feel his breathe hitting your collarbone.

“I’m sorry baby, I just…”

“No need to apologize, mami, I don’t blame you.”

His words ease your concern, but you know that the issue is too big for one conversation to solve. At the same time, however, it’s also out of concern.

Deciding that you’ve stressed yourself out more than enough for one night, you move away from him to flop back onto your bed before tugging on his arm to bring him down with you. Miles wraps his arms around your waist to bring you closer and you throw a leg over both of his while being careful to not hurt any of his already injured parts, burying your face into the crook of his neck while your free hand reaches to run your nails across the part for his braids.

“They got you good, huh? Messed up your pretty braids n’ everything, they were so neat,” you mumbled, making Miles chuckle.

“You can always do ‘em again for me, huh mami? You always do them the best.”

“And you missed out of movie night, I had the best trilogy picked out…” he could practically feel your pout on his neck.

“How ‘bout I make it all up to you tomorrow? No school, I’ll take you shopping and we’ll go eat someplace nice. Then we can watch all the movies you want, I can even find a decent theater for us, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that…” judging by the slur, he knew you were practically out for the night, which was confirmed by the yawn that followed your words. He let a small smile tug at his lips as he kissed your forehead before pulling the blankets up to covered the two of you.

“Buenas noches, mami.”

“G’night baby.”

[sgiandubh]

Context, always the context

After we had gagging fun - and some, a small and unjustified heartbreak, too - with the newest 🎪 pic, let's put it a bit in context. I confess I am more and more immune to these: they are aimed at this fandom, of course - just to fuel further web wars and talks: never forget Xmas is round the corner, too. But they are also aimed at the Casuals, who still can't place McIdiot on her map and do not really care, to be honest.

So, what exactly do we have, here?

This:

After more than ten years in showbiz, our C still needs a pointer to tell ignoramuses like me where exactly she is, on that picture?

How odd. How unfair. But let's imagine I am from Mars. I have no idea who these people are, including to each other. The legend tells me nothing: just C and T and zero details. They could very well be co-workers, acquaintances, friends...? Oh, she's married to him. Oh. Ok. For sure, they ooze bliss and happiness. For sure. I've seen broomsticks act more convincingly than this.

Also, the photographer. As a very trusted friend pointed out (thank you, forever indebted to you), this Bennett guy was all over the place, yesterday. According to Getty Images (https://www.gettyimages.co.uk/search/photographer?photographer=Dave%20Benett&assettype=image&sort=best&license=rf%2Crm), he attended at least seven other high profile London events yesterday and was paid to cover them, too.

Their list immediately places this minor happening in its right context and at its right place:

"Leave The World Behind" - UK Special Screening and afterparty. The one she attended with McIdiot.

Hackett London x David Gandy Wellwear Launch Party - Savile Row tailors, established in 1983. Huge success story from a humble Portobello Road clothes stall to a 160 shops global network and a part of LVMH group (remember? LOL). The one she did not attend with McIdiot.

"Femme" - Gala Screening - After Party - UK thriller, premiered at the Berlinale last spring. Will be released tomorrow in the UK and IE. 95% approval rate on Rotten Tomatoes. The one she did not attend with McIdiot.

Skye McAlpine Celebrates The Opening Of Tavola's Christmas Pop-Up Shop, in Knightsbridge (along with Fitzrovia, my favorite London spot). Tavola is a high end tableware collection, carefully curated by Skye McAlpine - celebrated British cookbook author and an expert in Italian cuisine and fine dining. You should think two gin entrepreneurs would be thrilled to meet her, at another event she did not attend with McIdiot.

A Reception By The All Party Parliamentary Group Honouring Elton John For His Dedication To The Global Fight Against HIV AIDS. No further comments needed for this very, very posh event she did not attend with McIdiot. I doubt she has this type of connections.

The Anti Slavery Collective Inaugural Winter Gala at the Battersea Arts Center in London. Attended by royalty (yeah, ok: Fergie - but also, her two Princess daughters!), aristocrats (Count Nikolai von Bismarck comes to mind), showbiz people (Ed Sheeran - hello?) and of course, the press. But this is another very high profile event she did not attend with McIdiot.

Longines Dolce Vita Exhibition and after party - aimed at the high end luxury crowd. Another event she did not attend with McIdiot.

Smirnoff Celebrates New 'We Do Us' Initiative In Partnership With Tilting The Lens And Sink The Pink. Smirnoff, that legendary vodka which story started in Tsarist Moscow and now continues as part of the behemoth Diageo spirits group. Mhm. Now with an event tailored for the well-heeled LGBT+ and Generation Z crowds, organized in partnership with Tilting the Lens,  Sinéad Burke's consultancy firm with an absolutely spectacular client portfolio, featuring Gucci, Starbucks and -hey, nice to see you! - Soho House. LOL. You would think they could have grabbed a black cab and do anything to at least drop in and say hi. You would think they would be interested to meet with the other, less obvious, partner of this event, Stonegate, a major player on UK's hospitality scene. What a pity this was another event she did not attend with McIdiot!

Make no mistake. London is a real global metropolis. Une ville-monde (a World City), a notion coined by one of my masters, the wonderful French historian Fernand Braudel. As such, it currently stands at the epicenter of all that is trendy, new, exciting and expensive and it offers an endless array of opportunities for the brave and the bold. That was but a very incomplete sample of a Wednesday night on the London scene, busier than usually with all those end of year events. Out of the other seven of this sample, she had a profitable and realistic choice between at least two or three other events. She could have even coupled that after party with at least another one of those, if she had the right network to attract an invitation.

It is also plain to see, by now, TMcG is by no conceivable means the successful, multimillionaire businessman and entrepreneur. He is nowhere to be placed on this very rich, very diverse event scene. He does not attend any events by himself, whereas she carefully attends events all alone and does it very well - wouldn't that be because she has a name in her own right, too? He apparently does nothing, he apparently is Nobody. You should think a successful, multimillionaire, ambitious businessman would be proud to be seen just about everywhere with his up-and-coming actress wife, isn't it?

The sad truth is this clown only makes it to a cursory mention in a Daily Fail picture gallery when dragged along by C. At an event she most probably managed to get an invitation via Rami Malek, her co-star in The Amateur:

That, my friends, is not C playing her Greta Garbo. That is C squandering every shred of sympathy capital she ever managed to acquire, with absurd determination.

But sure, keep on screeching, Stans. Keep on screeching. All of the above are cold, hard FACTS your queens carefully keep out of your reach. God forbid you come to the realization.

[kaybug88]

Sam Golbach x Wife!Reader

Note: They have a boy named Gaege, he's eight, and a daughter named Elizabeth, she's ten!

TW: Suggestive usage of words, brief Makeout session (not detailed)

WC: 1.6k

Requested: Yup! By mah sister <3

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Today has been chill. The kids are at school, Sam is upstairs working, and you're sitting in the living room with a big ‘ol mug of hot cocoa while reading a book you keep seeing on TikTok; Haunting Adeline.

So far, it's actually really good for such a vulgar story. Essentially, the day has been going rather smoothly. Almost too smoothly.However, upon reaching a rather extreme place in your book, you decide it's time for a break. Putting the bookmark on the page, you put the story down and head upstairs to Sam's office, your steps quiet on the hardwood stairs. Upon reaching the white door, you let out three small knocks.

“Baby, can I come in?”

You ask and once you hear him give you the ‘go ahead’, you step in. He's sitting at his desk editing a video he must've filmed with Colby, different frames fill his screen with colors all over.

“What's up, buttercup?”

He asks as you walk into the room. You recently decorated the black office, and deep cleaned for his birthday; boy did it look good. Decor all perfectly dusted with a new desk, chair, and computer; a family picture of him holding Gaege and you holding Elizabeth next to his monitor completes the whole look.

“Just wanted to see my super handsome husband.”

You chuckle as you walk up to him, sitting in his lap while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Oh? He must be a real’ lucky guy' to have such a beautiful wife.”

He says in a teasing tone as he takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your chin more towards him.

“He really is.”

You chuckle before leaning into him to press a soft kiss to his lips. He immediately reciprocates the action with a smile as your lips move in a synchronized harmony. You let out a satisfied hum against his lips before pulling away.

“Are you picking kids up from school today?”

Sam asks after a beat of pleasant silence.

“Of course.”

You say willingly before peppering small, soft kisses along his jawline. He chuckles at the action before standing up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his torso.

“Let's see. . . We've got a few hours before kids get out of school.”

Sam says while laying you down on the black leather couch in his office with a suggestive tone and smirk. You giggle as he begins to kiss your chin, and make his way down to your neck, leaving little bites along the way. His lips suck little purple spots here and there, and just as his fingers are lifting the hem of your shirt up, he gets a call. At first, he ignores it and continues his movements, but when his phone goes off again you point it out.

��Sam, it could be work related.”

You say with a sigh while your eyes are closed in bliss. He groans before stopping his movements and checking his phone. He rolls his eyes when he sees the caller is Colby. He answers with a huff.

“I hope this is good.”

Sam sighs quietly to himself. You chuckle when Sam rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers and sits back down at his desk. You get up from your spot on the couch, brushing your shirt out to look presentable before coming up next to him and whispering in his ear that the two of you could finish this later tonight. He gives you a thumbs up as you walk out so he can keep working.You chuckle and quietly close his door before going downstairs. 

-

The rest of the day goes super smoothly. You get more reading done, did dishes, vacuumed around the house and went to the story for groceries. When it was time to go get the kids, you shoot Sam a quick text letting him know where you'd be and went along your marry way.

 Pulling into the pick up lane your two kids eagerly See your car and run up to it. Gaege us a spitting image of Sam when he was a kid; piercing blue eyes and perfect blonde hair. Elizabeth was a spitting image of you with deep eyes and beautiful hair.

“Hey sweet peas! How was school?”

You ask as they get Into the backseat, and buckling into their respective seats.

“Good! We made oobleck!”

Gaege excitedly said, holding up a little plastic bat with what must be his oobleck.

“It was alright. Didn't learn anything.”

Elizabeth said in a bored tone with a huff. That's how it's always been, never learning much and being way ahead of her class. You smile to yourself a little and head out of the pick up lane. Sometime on the way home, it starts snowing. The kids get all excited and peer out the windows, each and every snowflake softly falling around you. Pulling into your driveway next to Sam's car, the kids immediately unbuckle and bolt out of the car; their little tongues sticking out to catch the falling flakes.

You chuckle as you usher the two inside, following close behind. Upon entering the house, Gaege and Elizabeth kick off their shoes and rush up the stairs to see their dad. While taking off your own shoes and coat, you hear the kids from downstairs.

“Dad! We missed you!”

You hear Gaege exclaim excitedly. You let out a chuckle and walk upstairs to see Gaege, Elizabeth and Sam all in their own group hug. You go to say something, Elizabeth beats you to it.

"Mom! Dad! Can we please go play in the snow?"

You hesitate to answer, and look expectantly at Sam, seeing how he wants to deal with this.

“I don't see why not, I could use a break from editing.”

Sam says with a smile as the kids jump up and down in excitement. They yell out a thank you before running to their rooms to get their snow gear on.

“Now this will tire them out so we can finish what we were doing tonight.”

Sam says with a smirk as he stands up, bringing his arms around your waist and pulling you in. You feel your face heat up as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“That's good thinking.”

You chuckle before softly kissing him. You don't hear the little stomps coming into the office, but you do hear Gaege.

“Yuck! C'mon, you said we could go play in the snow!”

Gaege complains while walking away and towards the front door, Elizabeth following close behind. You and Sam separate, a chuckle leaving you and a groan leaving Sam.

“That's the second time we've been interrupted today.”

He sighs before letting you go, your arms falling from around his neck.

-

“Libby! Watch out!”

You call to your daughter as Sam throws a Snowball at the girl. At the moment, you're all in a very intense snowball fight, a small wall the two of you built being the only form of protection from the opposing boys.

Elizabeth ducks behind the wall, the Snowball missing by an inch. You go to throw a ball at Sam but get hit in the chest by a Snowball thrown by a giggling Gaege.

“Oh you're gonna regret that!”

You tease before throwing a Snowball and hitting him in the stomach, leaving him in more giggles. You don't notice Sam throw one at you which hits you square in the chest, making you stumble back a bit.

“Ha! Gaege, revenge is ours!”

Sam cackles which makes you giggle while you form another Snowball and throw it at him back. Elizabeth is forming a whole pile of snowballs to throw and Gaege is making a desperate attempt to hit you. You hurriedly go to throw a ball at Gaege but Sam hits it away with one of your snow shovels.

“Hey! No fair!”

You complain with a scoff and shocked smile.

“Never said we can't use the shovels!”

Same fires back while you grab the second shovel that's not too far off. Elizabeth is back throwing attacks left and right at Sam and Gaege, who are struggling to fight back.

Eventually, you and Libby come up with the idea to launch snowballs at Gaege and Sam, who are confused when you both duck behind the wall to make mass amounts of ammo. They take the hint and also get to work.

“Ready! Aim! Fiiiirrreee!”

Elizabeth calls to you after loading the shovel up with snowballs and launching them all over at the boys. They both laugh while hiding behind the wall. Gaege starts throwing snowballs while Sam loads the shovel up with little amounts at a time. As the Snow Wars go on, they declare their surrender.

“Alright! Alright! We surrender.”

Sam calls, holding his hands up from behind the wall, Gaege doing the same. 

“Ha! A couple of giirrllss beat you!”

Your daughter taunts, sticking her tongue out at them. She runs over and kicks their wall down with what you could call a war cry. You laugh at Libby’s actions and help Sam up, helping Gaege up moments later.

“Now what?”

Gaege asks. His sister shrugs while Sam suggests another Snowball fight, which the kids quickly shut down.

“We could make snowmen?”

You suggest which gets quick agreement From the kiddos.

-

You all quickly get to work, Libby and Sam doing one, while you and Gaege do the other.

It doesn't take long for the kids to start complaining about cold hands and cold faces, but they don't stop their snow fun. Carrot noses, drawn on faces, fuzzy scarves, and prickly sticks for arms are all used for your beautiful creations.When you're all done, you take a quick picture of your family's creation.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

A/N: So… I'm actually proud of this, and it's more words than I've been doing! Ive Started finding more motivation to write, and Im happy about it :)

If you guys want a part 2 of Sam and Reader, lmk ;)

[paprus-teutonic-knight]

I've been playing this Roblox horror game called pressure. In it, you traverse an underwater blacksite filled with deep sea monsters in an attempt to recover some kind of crystal. I was playing with a friend who's better than me, yet died to a common enemy (an Angler, a very annoying foe). I retrieved his stuff and, since we were on call, pressed forward under his guidance.

Room 70. PA turns on, and some bureaucrat tells me that I have to fix some generators or else they'll remotely shut the doors. "Okay, fuck you, but I'll do it." Next few rooms, there's like 4 generators each and 1 is broken, and I fix it with a minigame (circle with a small area inside it and a rapidly spinning pointer, time your click to get it inside the area and fill up some bar. Fill the bar fully to win). I do very well!

Then room 75. No generator, there's just a purple keycard door to my right and a blast door to my left, I head toward the blast door and a cutscene starts.

In the cutscene, the door opens, and I look through to see a MASSIVE area, with some orange lights shining down from above. One of them spots what appears to be a dead guard, launches a harpoon at it, and drags the guard into the sky.

I see generators across the room. A "0/5" icon appears at the top of the screen. Boss music starts playing.

well, fuck.

I am PANICKING. Neither me nor my friend have encountered this before, and neither of us know what to do- except avoid the searchlights, and repair the generators. It was AWESOME.

...I died to an Angler 12 rooms later. But it was worth it!

(Also, for those who know what this is: We also had a Door 25 Pandemonium. It was my first Pandemonium and we both survived!)