#and I was like pLEASE CAN I TAKE THESE when I moved out

[mihanisms]

buried to the hilt

— caleb finds he cums embarrassingly quickly when he sees how he looks in you.

— (slight) size kink, inexperienced caleb & reader, pathetic dirty talk, pathetic pervert caleb!!!!!!!! pathetic pervert reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! kiiinda fluffy at the end? a bit angsty-feely too?? as fluffy-feely as my freaktivities can be???

The first time Caleb sees your tummy bulge full of him, he stills. The nights he'd spent jerking off to the thought of you (with your panties pressed against his nose) pale in comparison to the real thing — his cock, lodged into your pussy, the outline of his tip just barely peeking through your skin. He can't take his eyes off it, transfixed by both the feel and look of you around him.

He stares for so long that you begin to feel impatient, whining softly and grinding your hips down. "Caleb..." Yet even that small movement from you has the bulge in your stomach shifting slightly, a choked moan leaving his lips at the sight. Though lost in the heat of the moment, the neediness in your tone does not escape him and he shakes himself out of his trance, his hand trailing up from your thigh to press on your stomach. "...Yeah, pips?"

When you glance down, you finally realize just why he was in such a daze. the tip of his cock barely visible beneath your skin drawing a surprised whimper from you. Your eyes flick between your best friend and the impression of him in you, the sigh utterly intoxicating. "Ca-Caleb...he's peeking out at me..."

That's all it takes for Caleb's honeyed tone to go darker, a raspy growl now evident in his tone. "Mhm. That's...me right there, pips." He thrusts shallowly at first, eyes flicking down, watching with fascination as his cock shifts beneath your skin, a  whimper catching in his throat at the sight. “Fuck, baby look that’s me- fuck- baby, I ah-!"

He loses himself in the warmth as his body presses against yours. Slowly, he begins to move, his rhythm building with each thrust. And he tries — he really tries to hold on.

But the sight of his cock pushing up against the soft skin of your belly has Caleb's mind unraveling like a cat clawing at a ball of yarn. Every slow thrust, every squeeze of your walls around him, makes the bulge in you shift. It's a visible, undeniable reminder that he’s buried so deep inside you there’s nowhere else for him to go.

His breath is ragged, each roll of his hips getting sloppier as the heat in his body quickly overwhelms him. His forehead stays pressed to yours, eyes half-lidded, glassy, and completely lost in you.

“Baby, I- You feel so fucking good.” His voice cracks into moans, wrecked and desperate, his fingers twitching against your waist as he fights to hold on.

Fuck, he's close. Too close. He's supposed to be in control. Supposed to pace himself. But the way your warmth engulfs him, how your tight little hole pulses and pulls him deeper, shatters any semblance of restraint.

You feel it too. The way he trembles above you, his body taut like a fraying wire. Every shaky exhale, every hitched breath, every needy little sound that slips past his lips, they all tell you how he’s on the edge. The knowledge that he's losing himself, falling apart because of you, sends heat flooding through your body.

Involuntarily, you clench around him, and his reaction is instant. A strangled, breathy “oh fuck-” chokes past him as his hips stutter against yours. You roll your hips in response, and Caleb fucking gasps for air at the sight of the bulge shifting beneath your skin, his grip on you tightening as if you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

The two of you were in the same sinking boat, breaths and moans mingling as the aching need for release quickly overtakes the both of you, the harsh thrusts and helpless moans spilling from Caleb's lips tightening that coil in your stomach. "Pl-Please Caleb-"

The strained breathlessness in your voice has him crumbling, his rhythm getting sloppier as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, voice thick with something fragile. "I know, baby, I know- Fuck, just-" His words get cut off you pulsate around him, the tight heat of you making his mind short-circuit. "S-So close- just give it to me, please please please-"

His hands move on instinct, an overwhelming ache leading one to over your stomach to press down and feel himself inside you. The moment the pressure registers on his cock, his mind blanks and so does he—wave after wave of cum pulsing into you as he shakes and whines, hips desperately meeting yours as he chases his high.

The shocks of his orgasm run through him, his mind blank and overwhelmed, nothing left but the feeling of you wrapped around him, milking him through his high. His lashes flutter, breath hitching as he shivers, everything is too hot, too good, too much.

The feeling of his hips stilling against yours and his cum flowing into you has your stomach tightening, the pleasure cresting fast, and then you're gone. Ecstasy slams into you with a force that has you crying out, your body going rigid as you spasm around him.

You're both left trembling, wide-eyed and flushed and locked onto each other's gazes as you process what just happened. Caleb then slumps against you, your bodies spent and trembling, his voice soft as he nuzzles back into your neck. "....Fuck. 'M sorry, baby."

His cock stays nestled deep, twitching with oversensitivity, trapped in you. He’s panting into your skin, and you reach out to push away the hair that had fallen into his face. "Don't be," you murmur softly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sudden after-intimacy of the moment.

Caleb's voice was quiet, a layer of insecurity lying below the surface. "I didn't expect- I barely lasted-"

You soothe him with a soft hush, running your fingers through his hair and cupping the base of his neck. "That doesn't matter, baby. It was still perfect. You were perfect." You press a soft, lingering kiss to his temple, noticing how he's still slightly stiff and you run your hands down his spine, tracing slow, reassuring patterns on his back.

He shivers at the contact, looking up at you like a puppy seeking reassurance. Before he could say anything else, you tighten your grip, squeezing at his skin and pulling him closer. “You made me feel incredible. It doesn’t have to be some long, drawn-out thing. You know we’re both….new to this.”

“But I….” He huffs slightly, finally relaxing into your touch and letting it ground him. “You…You mean that, pipsqueak?” 

You smile, gently nudging your nose against his head. “‘Course I do. Besides, if you liked seeing me that full ‘f you, means we’ll have to go again.” Leaning in even closer, your warm breath ghosts over his ear. “You know you’re still hard in me, right?”

Caleb groans softly, shifting on top of you, his cock twitching against the walls of your cunt. His lips graze your skin, his breath hot and uneven. "Do you think- Do you think you can take another round?"

You adjust yourself slightly, just enough to tease him deeper into you. "I can take whatever you want to give me, you know that.”

“You horrible tease.” Despite his words, Caleb breaks out into a light snicker, fighting back the groan and the desire re-capturing his gut to have a few more moments of this sweetness. He finally pulls himself out of your neck, looking at you with that lovesick, dazed expression that’s always made your heart skip.

This was going to be a long night.

[vexedcoast]

I can be a better boyfriend than him

ft. fdom vi. and afab sub reader

a/n: pillow princess femme reader taking hexstrap like a champ . not much plot bc I'm lazy as fuck. if a man tried to flirt like this I'd call the c0ps but,, if vi did this 🤭 hehe .

cw : heavy cheating ( readers boyfriend is an asshole , and cheats on reader . . so ,,, justified ). pet names ( princess, bunny, pretty girl — for reader , daddy, sir — for vi ). hexstrap is referred to as cock a few times .

this party was going to be the death of you — it was supposed to be an escape from the hell you were in . your boyfriend of two years cheated — took someone else into your bed . not just once, but three times ( that he admitted ). you hadn't officially broken it off yet — seeking out piltover's shadiest party that you could find on such short notice .

the music, the bodies — everything was too much . what you needed was a god damn distraction . anything, anyone, to take away the pain . a drink in your hand — the bitter taste of alcohol burned your throat before the barkeep could even ask for your name to build you a tab for the night . you slid over a few crumbled bills, mumbling a soft thank you.

the night bustled on — but you kept feeling eyes on you . but no matter where you looked, you couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from . that was until your gaze finally found her, scarlet haired — bruised knuckles and muscles where you had no ideas muscles could be so defined . your expression must have been pitiful, she approached within half a second . your mouth agape , scarlet staining your cheeks .

"what's a sweet thing like you doing all alone in such a scary place ?"

her voice rasped — rough palm cupping your cheek . your expression and lips moved like a fish out of water . stunned, floored at not just her prescene but her confidence . the way she ever so slowly backed you against a wall near the bar — hand resting on the chipped paint , not exactly caging you in but encroaching you . her other hand shifted to your waist with a bit more hesitation, giving you enough time to push her away .

" looking for a distraction. "

you answered breathlessly — lower lip quivering ever so slightly . leaning into her touch as though it recharged your own body .

"I can give you a good distraction, just not here."

her lips skimmed your ear, whispering into it with a wolf like grin — teeth barring. before you could think twice, you mewled out a soft please . oh, she was going to devour you.

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚

"c'mon puppy, suck."

battered hand dug into your hair — pushing you forward , you opened your mouth without having to be told twice. lips wrapped around the strap, eyes rolling back as vi slid it down your throat . slow at first, giving you a few seconds to adjust yourself . her hand brushed soothingly against your scalp, trimmed nails scratching ever so slightly .

you began to move - bobbing your head up and down, taking her deeper and deeper. your eyes set back to vi's gaze, keeping hold of it as you started to gag on the cock . your hands were invisibly tied behind you — not having to any room to argue when vi told you exactly what to do and how to do it .

" such a good puppy — i can't believe someone would let you go. you're so loyal and obedient."

vi graveled, palm shifting to your chin — tipping it up to maintain eye contact . her thumb brushed your cute little tears away, rocking her hips forward and cooing as you gagged even more . so pretty, she whispered.

as fast as her cock parted your lips, it was gone . she pulled away , unable to hide laughter as you looked pathetically up at her like you were just deprived of air . poor puppy . her fingers remained on your chin, cooing at you .

"on the bed, hands and knees."

she stated as a fact rather than a question. you obeyed instantly, nearly jumping onto the shoddy mattress. squirming, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

vi moved like a lioness going for the kill . gruff hand gripping your hip while another slapped the strap against your clit.

"beg."

once again, an easy command to follow — lips parting almost like you'd been given an electric shock from the demand.

"please, please fuck me. please daddy — i need you so badly. I'm throbbing for you. "

the pet name slipped without even thinking about it . you could feel her entire body stiffen at the two syllables .

"oh, fuck I'm sorry it just slipped out – I didn't mean to—."

the apology spat out quickly, your eyes widening .

violet flipped you over like you were a little feather. trapping you between her and the mattress. it took several beats before you realized exactly what happened. a thumb slid past your lips and held your tongue down .

"you need daddy to fuck you? need daddy's cock, puppy? you beg so sweetly — i bet that pussy is dripping, and i haven't even touched you yet."

she kneed open your legs — which you complied , spreading your thighs open like the red sea . her thumb remained on your tongue, now allowing a response.

"its big, but you can take it, right? be good for daddy. fuck, how could someone see you like this and not keep you as their own personal fuck toy? so good. take daddy's cock."

her words stung, just a bit . but she was right, how could he cheat on you when you lowered such a gorgeous, drooling mess? all you could do was nod, bucking your hips up . vi shifted her hands to hold down your waist, teasing your entrance with just the tip.

" don't even think about trying to set the pace. don't fucking move those hips without permission, understood?"

you yelped as the head of her strap pushed inside, whimpering out yes sir's over and over again. you needed more.

"good girl. oh you're already taking my cock so well."

she didn't go any further, which you were rather thankful for. the strap was nearly nine inches and thick — breaking you apart bit by bit. your jaw slacked whimpering out nothing more than begs. her hand and thumb released you, only to wrap around behind your knee - hiking it over her shoulder.

"don't stop, please daddy."

your whines got louder, trying once more to buck your hips up. which was met with a slam into you — strap kissing deep inside you without warning.

"i told you not to do any work, princess."

she warned — pulling herself back out all the way , unable to hide laughter as you squirmed under her. your legs shook with anticipation, trying your best not to move. her nails dug into the plushness of your tights, imprinting crescent shapes into your skin.

"take my strap c'mon puppy."

you did as you were told, arching your back up as she slid herself back into you till the hilt kissed your clit once more, the leather harness straps digging in just a bit. your core dripped, ached as she stretched you out with no mercy. with every thrust, her muscles tensed and fuck— she had so many. your eyes had a hard time focusing on just one part of her.

your hands dug into her biceps, gripping tight while she slid in and out at a merciless pace — giving you no time to even think, let alone try to move your hips. but now, — her thumb pushed down on your clit, finding it with her eyes closed – like a well trained marksman. it rubbed slow, deep, methodical circles — pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

"can I cum sir, please please please. I've been so good."

you cried, trying to hold on — wanting to be a good, sweet girl for her.

"cum for daddy, cum on my cock."

she urged you, but really — you hadn't really needed a blessing. already tipping over the edge before she called herself daddy. tears pricked in the outer corners of your eyes, cat like nails scratching against her battered and bruised skin - whining.

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿.

"stay."

her voice was firm, pulling you back to her chest — tucking your head into her neck.

"but I —, he. ."

you tried, but failed — mumbling against her skin .

"is nothing to you anymore. I can be a better boyfriend than he ever could be."

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 39 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley would never forgive himself if you got hurt. It feels like he's been biding his time for ages, and his patience has worn thin. When Maverick returns to base, things finally start to change, but in whose favor?

Warnings: Angst, adult language, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

You settled on the couch with the new ultrasound photos from our appointment on Monday, eager to show them to your parents. But Bradley had other ideas.

"Roo," you hissed, pulling his hand away from your chest while you looked at your reflection on the iPad screen. "Knock it off."

"I'm horny," he whispered against your neck. You could hear the whine in his voice. He'd been very understanding when you told him that you needed to work late the past few days to help Cat, especially after you explained that she was bogged down with extra work because of Indigo. But now he was pouting on the couch with his other hand slipping into the back of your leggings while the call to your parents connected.

Your mom's voice rang out as Bradley grabbed your butt. "Hi!"

"Hi, Mom!" you replied, voice entirely too peppy as you tried to scoot away from your husband. You shot him a glare as he smirked and finally folded his hands in his lap. "How's packing going?"

"Oh, it's so stressful," she complained, going into a rant about all of the bins of things she'd been saving since you were a kid. You let her ramble, knowing she was secretly excited to be able to let Rose and the second baby play with your old toys someday after they moved to Coronado. Bradley and your dad sat quietly until your mom took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Now you felt like pouting. They would be moved into their new house in time for Christmas but not Thanksgiving. "Probably making dinner for our friends. Just hanging out with everyone here," you told her with a shrug.

"No."

You turned to look at Bradley who was shaking his head. 

"What do you mean no?" you asked. "Are you going to cook Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? Your kitchen skills are much improved, Roo, but that seems a bit ambitious."

Bradley snorted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. "You're not cooking. I'm not cooking. We won't even be here, Baby Girl," he whispered. Then he turned to face the iPad. "I'm taking my girls away for an anniversary trip. We'll be gone that weekend."

Your mom looked like she was going to swoon. "Really?" you asked, letting his hand creep up your thigh toward your belly. "We're going away?"

Bradley's eyes held innocence as he grinned. "Yeah. Don't you remember when I asked you just the other day if you'd prefer the mountains or the lake?"

"Oh," you whispered. You did remember. He had been fingering you at the time, your pussy slick and full of his cum. When your cheeks grew warm, you realized you did not want to have the rest of this conversation with your parents listening in. "Yes, I do recall that, actually." You cleared your throat. "We should let you go. It's late."

"But we didn't get to talk to Rose!" your dad complained.

"She's still taking her after-dinner nap," you told him apologetically. "Maybe tomorrow! Love you!"

When you ended the call, Bradley was already tugging on your shirt. "Please," he murmured. "I'm so horny. I'll do anything you want. On the couch, in bed, in the shower, anything you want, Sweetheart."

"I want you to tell me where we're going, Roo," you replied sweetly as he pulled your shirt over your head and palmed your breasts through your sports bra. It was a wonder he could get hard right now after he'd seen you wearing your maternity tent less than an hour ago.

"Mountains," he grunted, pulling you closer.

You knew he was planning something, but you didn't know it was already worked out. "I'm impressed," you told him as you carefully removed your bra. "You did this all by yourself?"

"Nothing's too good for my girls." His voice was raspy, already fading into the silent room as he eased you onto his lap. You fed Rose not terribly long ago. You were tired. Your breasts weren't very perky at the moment. But Bradley moaned as soon as his lips met your nipple. His cock was hard against your thigh as you settled in.

With his big hand splayed along the side of your growing bump, you let him get his fill of rubbing his nose and mustache all over your chest. Your back arched as he started grinding his hips up to yours.

"Does this mean we can get nasty on the couch?" he whispered, flashing his brown eyes up to yours. When you giggled, he added, "It's been days." Part of you wanted to tell him that your back hurt and you couldn't handle getting twisted into a pretzel right now, but you slid down to the floor between his legs, his eyes tracking your every move. "What are you doing?" he mumbled, a little grin finding his lips as you tugged on the waistband of his gym shorts.

"Stop acting like you don't know I'm about to suck your dick," you whispered, trying not to laugh as his cock bobbed out from his underwear.

A soft sound at the back of his throat spurred you on. He simultaneously scooted his hips closer to you while he settled back against the couch. "I didn't want to assume," he murmured, eyes wide as you took him between your parted lips. "Fuck. I'm so spoiled."

You hummed your response around his cock which had his head tipping back as he reached for your face. Big, calloused fingers brushed along your cheek before trailing to the back of your head. You controlled the pace, but that bit of pressure from his excited hand made you suck a little harder just to hear his appreciation.

Long, languid strokes had Bradley's restraint slipping. After he tapped the back of your throat his hips rose incrementally from the couch. When your tongue circled his tip, his hips were up again. He was eager to cum, so you slowed your pace.

"Jesus," he whimpered, balls tightening as you sucked on them. You could feel your saliva drip down his cock to your face as you ran your tongue in circles. "Keep this up, and you'll never not be pregnant, Sweetheart."

Before you could react, Bradley was pulling you to your feet, careful not to be too rough. He yanked your leggings down and guided you back to his lap.

He was big and thick, but your body welcomed him as he filled your pussy. "You're getting a vasectomy after this one, Roo."

He gasped, whether from your words or from the way your pussy was already squeezing around him with need, you weren't sure. You wanted to reiterate that two kids was plenty for you and he to handle, but his palm met your butt, guiding you in a slow roll that erased all thoughts from your brain.

"We'll talk about that later," he crooned, kissing your lips softly. "Right now, I want you to think about how bad you need me." You moaned in spite of yourself at his cocky words. "I want you to think about how good Daddy takes care of his girls."

"Oh, god," you whimpered, bouncing on his cock. "You do. You do," you babbled. One swipe of his finger along your clit, and you were seeing stars. Hadn't he been the one begging for this? How did you become the needy one right now? "Fuck!"

You were panting as he guided you along, taking you for everything you had until your face was buried against his neck to quiet yourself as you came. He knew what to do, and he was too good at it, pinching and plucking your clit until your hips rolled to a stop as your pussy squeezed him gently.

When you opened your eyes, you were still dizzy as Bradley held you. Your pussy was slick with his cum, both of you spent as his hand settled on the side of your belly.

"We'll circle back to that vasectomy conversation later," he whispered as you laughed softly with his cock still inside you. "Right now, I don't want you to move an inch."

"That's convenient," you mumbled, "because I think my bones are jello." You snuggled in closer, eyelids heavy, but Bradley's body jerked beneath you.

"Holy shit," he gasped, sitting more upright as you grabbed his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I can feel her," he whispered, his hand trailing along your belly, pressing firmly. "I can feel our daughter moving."

You were so used to her almost-constant squirming, it took you a beat to realize that she was turning somersaults below your ribcage, but she was moving a lot. Bradley's gaze met yours, and a beaming smile filled his face as he adjusted his hand an inch higher.

"She's moving a lot, Roo. I think she likes your voice."

Tears glittered in your husband's eyes, and you kissed his cheeks. It felt so good to be back on solid ground in your relationship. Perhaps you never had anything to worry about, but moments like this one were priceless to you.

"I love you so much," Bradley promised, his lips finding yours, kissing you through his words. "I love my girls. This is the best fucking day."

When Rose started crying to eat again, you finally crawled from your husband's lap. But he followed you into the nursery, claiming, "I want to be close to the three of you." He barely left your side for the rest of the night.

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

Bradley was still stressed out about Indigo. He didn't really think about her when he was at home, but when he got to work and saw her lurking about, his anxiety seemed to spike. Today, she was outside his classroom when the others filed in for his lecture. He wondered how much longer the little scheme you and Cat worked up could possibly keep her on the ground. He still didn't have all the details, not that he wanted them, but he knew better. She would be back in the air by the end of the year. And he hadn't heard a word about his complaints against her.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," Indigo sang, setting Bradley's teeth on edge. He had to take deep breaths and remind himself that he couldn't rage at her. When he thought about how he spent last night feeling the baby kicking, he calmed down.

"Lieutenant Jeffries. I trust you haven't forgotten you're not permitted in my classroom?"

Her smirk was obnoxious. "Of course not, Sir. I was just simply stopping by to inform you that your superior is back." Her smirk turned into a bright, joyful smile. "And I'm going to stop by his office."

Maverick was back from Lemoore. Mav was back, and somehow Indigo knew about it before he did. While that rubbed him the wrong way, Bradley thought perhaps things could move along faster now. Maybe there was a way out of this whole mess. He wanted his life to go back to normal again. He needed it.

"Enjoy your morning, Lieutenant Jeffries. Don't forget to stay out of the aviators' lounge."

Bradley closed the door softly instead of slamming it, and then he got his notes out. The other students were eager to hear what he had planned. Even Spice seemed to have distanced herself from Indigo which was interesting; perhaps she valued her career more than a toxic friend. Bradley wrote some notes on the board and got to work. 

What was supposed to be a two hour long discussion with the group was cut short halfway through. When he walked around the classroom, pausing to answer a question, Bradley's gaze was drawn toward the window. He saw you outside in the sunlight near the hangar. It was impossible to miss you in your maternity uniform, not that he would ever tell you that, but even the curve of your cheek was unmistakable to him.

God, you were fucking perfect. His heart skipped around in his chest as he watched you turn back toward your office, and he crept closer to the window for a better look. He couldn't wait until lunchtime so he could sit with you.

Then his back went ramrod straight, and Bradley froze. Indigo walked past you, checking your shoulder with hers. "What the fuck?" Bradley snarled under his breath. Indigo kept walking like she hadn't just intentionally run into you. You. A pregnant woman. Bradley's pregnant wife. "You're all dismissed," he barked, heading for the classroom door as quickly as he could walk. Once he was in the hallway, he was running for the exit in the atrium.

The sunlight was blinding, but he saw you immediately. When he called your name, you turned to him and smiled. Indigo was nowhere in sight now as he ran to get to you. 

"Are you okay?" he demanded, touching your shoulder before letting his hand settle on your belly.

"Yeah, I just had to take something to Cat. Why are you out of breath?" you asked, kissing his cheek softly before he wrapped you up in a hug. "What's going on, Bradley?"

He kissed along your forehead and said, "I saw Indigo plow into you through the window. She did it intentionally."

"Oh. Yeah. She does that all the time. I wish she'd just hit me in the face already, because I'm not about to retaliate."

Bradley held you at arm's length, eyes wide. "Don't say that! I don't want her laying a finger on you!"

You took a deep breath and sighed. "You know none of this would be a problem if you weren't so sexy, right?" Bradley's cheeks felt warm as you tucked yourself against him again. "I need to get back to my lab, but I'll see you at lunch. We can start discussing baby names."

As you strolled away, Bradley once again felt terrible that you were in this mess with him.

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

You didn't want Bradley worrying any more than he always was, but Indigo did hit your shoulder pretty hard this time. You were still rubbing it when you walked into your building and headed for the elevators. 

It felt like you were trapped in some realm filled with optical illusions; somehow Indigo was standing in front of the elevator buttons. How she got inside so quickly was beyond you.

"Excuse me," you told her, trying to reach for the up arrow with your chin held high, but she didn't move. "You're in my way."

"How does it feel knowing your husband fucked me in his office?" she whispered. Your hand stilled in the air as you met her horrible, blue eyes. "How does it feel knowing I can have him whenever I want? Every Monday after his office hours. This past Monday was something else. Would you like some details?"

It made you physically sick that she thought she had some sort of grasp on you and Bradley. It would be nice to hit her in the face instead of the other way around. But you knew she was lying. She was grasping at straws. Bradley had skipped his office hours on Monday in favor of joining you for your appointment with Dr. Morris just like he always did. The woman in front of you was beyond ridiculous.

"Do you want to know the details?" she demanded. "Answer me."

"I don't answer to you!" Your voice had her taking a step back until she hit the wall between the elevator doors. "I outrank you in every way."

"You can't do this to me," she hissed. "You think you're an admiral on a power trip or something, but you can't ground me indefinitely, Lieutenant Commander."

Just as your lips parted, ready to put her in her place, you heard boots squeak in the polished floor to your left. You glanced that way to see the confident stride of Bradley's godfather as Maverick yanked his aviators off. His gaze was like steel as he stopped at your side.

"Maybe she doesn't quite have the power to ground you indefinitely, but I certainly do, Lieutenant Jeffries."

"Sir," she complained with a pout, "you don't understand what she's trying to do to me. She grounded me and my Super Hornet, Captain Mitchell. She's trying to ruin my career for no good reason. Her commanding officer should be informed that she's manipulating things the way she wants them when I've done nothing wrong."

You were seeing red. She was the one who started this whole thing, not you. And she was the one who kept trying to goad you on because she didn't get what she wanted. And now she was trying to make you look bad in front of Mav. You couldn't tell if you were about to laugh or cry.

"Enough," Mav barked. "I don't want to hear another word. One conversation with her commanding officer, and you'll be eating your words, Lieutenant Jeffries. And do you honestly think anything happens to one of the Super Hornets in the Pacific fleet without me knowing about it?"

Instead of a verbal response, Indigo blushed bright pink and shook her head slowly.

Maverick cleared his throat and lowered his volume a bit. "Someone in your position should be keeping a low profile, but you can't seem to help yourself."

"Someone in my position?" she asked, her gaze flickering your way briefly.

Shaking his head, Maverick said, "I've never seen a harassment case against a subordinate open and close so quickly."

"What?" Indigo squeaked, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

"It seems you have a history of behaving poorly around your male superiors," Maverick added. "I was going to let you save face and have this conversation in my office this afternoon, but it's a little too late for that. Maybe things worked in your favor in the past. You seem the type who got used to getting their own way. But that kind of behavior doesn't belong at Top Gun. And you were barking up the wrong tree with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw from the beginning. Not only is he happily married, his wife has more friends and allies on base than you'll ever know about. Pack your locker and meet me in my office. You're going back to Texas today."

"Texas!" Indigo wailed. "I'm too good for that program."

Maverick reached around her for the elevator button. "I wouldn't worry about that. You're about to learn that the Navy is too good for you. Now get out of my sight."

It felt like everything shifted as you watched Indigo storm away. Her shoulders slumped, and she seemed to fold in on herself. It was a far cry from her usual behavior as Maverick guided you into the elevator with him when the doors opened.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tipping your chin up so you met his eyes. "I really didn't mean for you to hear all of that."

"I'm okay," you whispered before wrapping your arms around him as tears leaked from your eyes. "Thanks for looking out for Bradley and me."

He kissed your forehead as you cried. "You're family. I'll always do what I can." When the doors slid open, you realized you were on your floor. Maverick wrapped his arms around your shoulders, guiding you along to your office. Your fingers were shaking as you unlocked the door. "I'll text Bradley and see if he can stop by," he said, following you inside where you sank into your desk chair with your hands on your belly.

"Is she out?" you whispered, completely exhausted as you took deep breaths. "Is Indigo out of the Navy?"

Maverick sighed and tucked his phone away again. "That's up to the admirals in Texas, but if I had to wager a guess... probably."

It seemed wild to you that she would risk it all for something as trivial as a hookup, but then again, Bradley always was irresistible to you. At one point, you were willing to risk everything you'd worked toward since your years at the Naval Academy to be with him. You'd even announced to the entire control room on an aircraft carrier that he was the man for you. But he was yours. He was Rose's. He was the baby's. Indigo wasn't going to get away with even testing the waters.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sitting there reflecting on things with Mav perched on the edge of your desk, but it must have been several minutes. When you heard heavy footfalls in the hallway, you looked at your open doorway as your husband came rushing inside.

"Are you okay?" he asked, panting and sweaty. He barely looked at Maverick before dropping to his knees next to your chair. "Did she hurt you?"

"Jeez, Mav," you murmured as the other man headed for the door. "What did you tell him?" you asked, referring to the text he'd sent to Bradley. 

"I told him you needed him," Maverick replied with a chuckle before closing the door on his way out.

"I swear to God," Bradley growled, focused on your face. "If she hurt you-"

"She didn't," you promised, cupping his cheek. "I promise we're just fine."

He was still everything you wanted. Almost two years married, and Bradley was worth every bit of this trouble. His lips found your belly through your ugly tent, kissing along until his cheek came to rest there. "That's good," he rasped as your fingers combed through his hair. "Hopefully they'll take my complaints against her seriously. I can barely stand coming to work knowing she's giving you a hard time."

"She's out, Bradley." He flashed his brown eyes up to your face. "Maverick is sending her back to Texas where they'll decide what happens to her."

He gave you a satisfied groan as he nuzzled your belly, kissing you a million times. Then his head came to rest in your lap, and you could feel the tension slowly release from his body for the first time in months as you held onto him.

"Just let me stay here with you for a while. Okay, Baby Girl?"

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

Have fun in Texas, Indigo! Nobody is going to miss you. I feel like BG should get to keep her Super Hornet out of principle. BUT, the most important part of the chapter is the fact that Bradley got to feel the baby! ALSO, next chapter may be the last one in this series.

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[sanjisluvbot]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Take Me Home

⋆.˚ PAIRING: Mark Grayson Variants/Reader

⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS: The chaos of the past few days has been indescribable. The world, shaken to its core, is now in a state of panic. The Invincible variants—once a symbol of hope, now ominous harbingers of a twisted fate—have revealed their plan to the world. They’ve openly declared that Y/n L/n, the one person who could tip the scales, is the reason for the madness that’s consuming reality itself.

⋆.˚ NOTES: Posting this while editing CH 3 of Intuition. If you'd like a full fic please let me know and you can expect it within a week!! I might change some things, but this is my current base!! ENJOY ♡

The world had gotten used to the impossible happening. After Omni-man revealed himself to be a mass murdering villain among all types of creatures and monsters roaming the earth, humanity became jaded. The screams and destruction woke you bright and early that day, maniacal laughter eerily familiar to your ex-boyfriend brought you to the window. 

There was not one, not two, but multiple people destroying the planet under the name of ‘Invincible’. You and your family made it safely to the bunkers with the rest of the scared, tired, and confused. The government allowed everyone to see with their own eyes the destruction of everything humanity worked for millions of years to be easily destroyed in less than twenty-four hours. 

“ Oh god… Mark,” you whisper to yourself. 

Although the world was shaken to its core, even now in a state of panic and fear there were still some bold enough. News reporters going as far as to film on top of buildings that still stood tall to get a closer look at the multiple Invincibles. However, being bold means potentially getting unwanted attention. The camera focused on one of the invaders destroying a prison when he finally caught eye with someone he has yet to tear in half. 

A devious smirk and in a split second the camera fell, gasps surrounded the room as people gathered around the tv screen. The screen was no longer in focus and you could only make out feet and the background of fire and rubble. You could hear the poor man losing his life, gurgling on his own blood while the bastard laughed. Once the gurgling stopped and the blood painted the camera lens crimson the body was tossed aside. 

The camera was picked up, you could only make out his smile before he wiped the lens with his finger smudging the blood to the left. “ oooh Y/n, where are you hiding— Get outta here!” 

The screen went black and everyone around you began to scramble. You were stuck in place. That was Mark, not your Mark but a Mark with his hair shaved into a mohawk and bags under his eyes that made him look like a complete psychopath. There were many questions but the one simple one that made your heart race. 

Why.

Why was he searching for you. 

You and Mark had made the difficult decision to break up almost a year ago, and the two of you moved on. Thinking about your past while trembling in this present as everyone began to whisper about what they’d just seen. Eyes turned to you, was there a possibility they were talking about Y/n L/n who was hiding out with them. Your parents quickly shut the rumors down, but the people began to avoid you until they couldn’t anymore. 

“ You have no proof! Other than the fact that the maniac on the screen was talking about someone with the same name! You can’t just harass my daughter!” Your poor sweet mother yelled. 

The crowd surrounded you and your family, you felt sympathy and regret they were simply scared. However, as your mother said, they can’t just harass you and your family when all they had was a name without a face. 

The madness continued, the chaos turned people against anyone with the name Y/n across the globe. The GDA not only had to deal with the death, the destruction of humanity, and multiple versions of one of the strongest men in the universe, but they needed to find Y/n. They were able to gain control of the media being broadcasted, all of the Mark’s were searching for the same person, letting you know that the longer you hide the worse it would get. 

Cecil sighed to himself. Half of his hero’s dead or in critical conditions all because of one person. He felt bad for Mark, but this just furthered his desire to have a weapon strong enough to deal with the kid if need be. When Mark arrived battered up having fought himself for hours on end Cecil asked him who Y/n was, just to see if he’d lie. 

“ Y/n… is my ex girlfriend. I don’t know where she is–”

“ Don’t worry about it, we found her already.”

“ What? Where is she– is she okay?”

“ She’s fine Mark, and so is her family, why don’t you go check on Eve.”

Mark felt relieved that you hadn’t been found by his counterparts, he couldn’t live with himself knowing you were possibly hurt by him even if it was a different version. He quickly went to check on Eve while Cecil made a hard decision. 

When the GDA came to the compound they told everyone things would be alright soon, and picked you and your family up telling everyone that you were just going into extra protection. The people felt relief as they no longer had a target on their back.

Under the guise of providing safety you and your parents followed them. You couldn’t ease the uncertainty though, were they really trying to protect you or were they protecting the innocents without the name Y/n? The pentagon was intimidating, a lump in your throat formed with the seriousness of your situation beginning to dwell on you. You grabbed onto your mother’s hand and she squeezed, providing you the comfort she always did. 

Now that you were far from the eyes of the public you were forcefully separated from our parents. Tears forming in your eyes as you’re pushed into a sterile white room. Cecil sat in front of you motioning you to sit and as you did armed officers appeared from thin air. Large rapid fire guns pointed directly at your chest and head. The silence of the room is suffocating, and it’s as though time itself is holding its breath. 

You were hyperventilating in full hysterics, Cecil could do little to comfort you. His face is tight, full of regret, but his voice is steady. "Y/n," he begins, his words laced with an apology that he can’t fully express, "I’m sorry it had to come to this. But you have to understand, this is about earth’s survival. Think of the billions of people who have been murdered over the last two days. If you’re handed over to them, they’ll stop the destruction. It’s the only way to save what we have left."

“ How can you be so sure? How can you be so sure that they won’t just rip me in half and leave this planet disintegrated.” you argue.

“ Because I’ve already come to an agreement with them.”

Before you could question anything else you were blinded by a light beyond your comprehension and then everything went dark. 

The first thing you felt was the wind, running through your hair while the sun warmed your cheeks. Rough hands cradle you into a sturdy chest and you lean into the familiarity, letting out a soft sigh when you realize it was Mark. He came to save you, take you away from the GDA and away from the evil versions of him. “ Oh, Y/n you’re even cuter on this earth.”  

The chaos of the past few days has been indescribable. The world, shaken to its core, is now in a state of panic. The Mark variants—once figures of influence, now ominous harbingers of a twisted fate—have revealed their twisted plan to the world. They’ve openly declared that Y/n L/n, the one person who could tip the scales, is the reason for the madness that’s consuming reality itself. The world has descended into a frenzy of desperate attempts to find her, each moment pushing humanity further toward the edge of its own unraveling.

The government has been scrambling to restore order, but in truth, it’s been a helpless race against time. The Global Defense Agency (GDA) gets involved, but not to protect Y/n, as she first thought. No, their involvement is a calculated move. Under the guise of providing safety, they’re planning to turn Y/n over to the Mark variants to ensure the earth’s survival. The GDA has long believed that the Marks hold the key to stopping the chaos—and they’re willing to sacrifice one person to preserve the greater good.

Y/n is brought into a fortified government building, far from the eyes of the public, and led into an ominous, sterile room. She can feel the weight of every eye upon her, even though there is no one there. The silence of the room is suffocating, and it’s as though time itself is holding its breath.

Cecil, the GDA operative who had been an ally, stands before her. His face is tight, full of regret, but his voice is steady. "Y/n," he begins, his words laced with an apology that he can’t fully express, "I’m sorry it had to come to this. But you have to understand. The Marks—they hold the balance. If you’re handed over to them, they’ll stop the destruction. It’s the only way to save everything."

Y/n feels a surge of anger, betrayal, and fear in her chest. The only way to save everything? Her mind races through every possibility, every outcome, but one thing remains clear: this is no longer just about saving the world. This is about survival, about sacrificing herself to a twisted fate or becoming the puppet of beings that have already caused irreparable harm.

Cecil’s face hardens, though his eyes flicker with a sense of sadness. "You can either be the good guy, or you can save the world. But you can’t do both."

The words echo in her mind as the walls seem to close in around her. The good guy, or the world? The weight of her decision has never been heavier. She knows what has to happen. The choice is excruciating, but it’s becoming clear that there may not be another way.

Y/n's mind flashes to the alternate versions of Mark—those who have been wreaking havoc, making themselves into shadows of their former selves. They are no longer just individuals; they have become symbols of the madness that has consumed reality. But what if they could be stopped? What if there was a way to break the cycle? What if she could find a way to shut down the alternate versions of Mark without sacrificing herself or falling into their trap?

She stands tall, her eyes locked with Cecil’s. "If I go to them, there’s no guarantee they’ll stop. What if they want more than just the world? What if I’m their ultimate prize?"

Cecil hesitates, clearly torn. He can’t answer her. He doesn’t know the full truth either. All he knows is what the higher-ups in the GDA have told him—what they believe. But Y/n feels it now: the truth is slipping through their fingers, and her fate is slipping further away with every passing second.

"Tell me," she demands, her voice quivering with a mixture of fear and determination, "how many others have they done this to? How many people have sacrificed themselves to them already? How many more will there be?"

Cecil remains silent. He doesn’t have an answer for that. But he knows what she means. The Marks have already been through countless others—versions of people, lives torn apart, worlds left in ruin. Y/n feels the weight of all those lost possibilities pressing down on her.

And then, in that moment, a new resolve fills her. She can’t let this be the end of everything. She won’t let herself become another pawn in their game. There has to be another way. She can stop the alternate Marks. She has to.

With every ounce of strength she has left, she turns away from Cecil. "I won’t be the prize they want me to be. I’ll find another way. I’ll stop them."

Cecil calls out, his voice pleading, "Y/n, don’t—"

But she’s already gone, slipping into the shadows of the building. She may be alone now, but her mind is clearer than it’s ever been. It’s time to end this—her way.

The stakes are higher than ever, and the final confrontation looms, but the fate of the world lies in the hands of one person: Y/n L/n. Will she find a way to destroy the alternate Marks and save herself, or will she be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice to prevent reality from unraveling completely? The clock is ticking, and there’s no turning back now

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 26

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, arguments, mention of loss of appetite

Y/n’s POV

I sit on the edge of the bed, my suitcase beside me, my hands shaking slightly as I unlock my phone. The sinking feeling in my chest hasn’t lifted since I stepped back into this house, and I know now, it’s not going to. I can’t stay here. Every corner of this place reminds me of him, and I need to be somewhere else before I break all over again.

My phone vibrates in my hand, pulling me back to reality.

“Of course.”

I exhale, relieved. At least one thing is working out. I type back quickly, my thumbs moving without hesitation.

“Can you sort me out a hotel?”

A response comes almost instantly.

“Yeah, I’ll sort it now. I’ll send you the booking details in a bit.”

"Thank you, can we keep this to ourselves please?"

I stare at the screen, a part of me feeling guilty for asking, for needing help. But there’s no other choice. I can’t go home because I don’t have one. And I can’t go back to how things were before this trip. 

A notification pops up on my phone, the hotel address and booking confirmation.

The Four Seasons.

My stomach twists as I open the message, scanning the details. A two week stay, completely paid for. 

Two weeks.

It’s generous, more than I expected, but I already know I can’t stay that long. Hopefully, I’ll find somewhere permanent before then.

I let out a breath and open the Uber app, booking a ride to take me straight there. The sooner I leave, the better.

Grabbing my suitcase, I carry it down the stairs and roll it toward the front door, pausing for just a second. 

This is it.

The last time I’ll walk out of this house.

Maybe forever.

I shake the thought off and pull the door open, stepping outside. The complex is quiet, the only sound coming from the occasional car passing in the distance. I pull my phone from my pocket, my screen lighting up.

8:05 pm.

I swallow hard and tighten my grip on my suitcase.

Time to go.

The Uber ride is silent and when we finally pull up in front of the Four Seasons, my stomach is in knots. This is real now.

I check in at the front desk, avoiding eye contact as the concierge hands me the key. The elevator ride feels endless, but when I finally step into the room, I can breathe for what feels like the first time all night.

It’s huge, bigger than I anticipated. A large bed sits in the center, crisp white sheets untouched. Large windows that show off the LA skyline, but I don’t even take it in. I drop my suitcase near the closet and immediately crawl onto the bed, exhaustion wiping me out.

I don’t leave the room for three days.

I don’t order room service. I don’t even turn on the TV. My days blur together, waking up, checking my phone, ignoring texts from Matt and only replying to the ones that aret from Nick.

Nick checks in every day. He doesn’t push, just asks if I’m eating, if I’m okay, if I need anything. It’s the bare minimum, but it’s more than what I can do for myself right now.

Tomorrow, we’re meeting for brunch. It’ll be nice to catch up, to hear how the rest of Hawaii went for him. Wondering if anything more happened with George.

Then, as if the universe is reminding me I can’t just hide forever, my phone pings again.

Calendar reminder: Work meeting – Tuesday 3pm. RE: Surprise Party Tour

I blink at it, realizing what that means. I’ll also be seeing Chris face to face sooner than I thought.

The next morning, I take my time getting ready. It’s the first time I’m stepping out of the hotel since I arrived, and even though it’s just brunch with Nick, it feels like something bigger. Like I’m crossing some invisible line between hiding and facing reality. 

I stare at myself in the mirror, adjusting my jumper, trying to look like I have everything together. But the dark circles under my eyes and the dullness in my expression tell another story.

The Uber ride to the restaurant is short, but it feels longer with how much I’m overthinking everything. I scroll through my phone aimlessly, trying to distract myself, but my thoughts keep circling back to the same place.

What happens after this? How long can I avoid everything before it catches up with me?

When I step into the restaurant, I spot Nick immediately. He’s already seated at a small table by the window, scrolling through his phone. As soon as he sees me, he puts it down and stands up, a relieved smile crossing his face. He pulls me into a hug, holding on just a second longer than usual, like he’s trying to check if I’m really okay without asking outright.

We sit down, and the waiter comes by to take our order. I go for an iced coffee and some avocado toast, mostly out of habit, not because I actually have much of an appetite. The first few minutes of our conversation are light, Nick fills me in on random things, making jokes, telling me about the rest of their time in Hawaii, how hes planning to meet with George when he's back. He talks like he’s trying to keep things normal, but I can tell he’s holding something back.

After taking a sip of his coffee, he leans back in his chair and looks at me with a more serious expression. "So.. how are you actually doing?"

I stir my iced coffee with my straw, watching the ice swirl in the glass. "I'm.. managing." It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.

Nick nods slowly, like he’s debating something. Then he exhales and says, "And Matt.."

I freeze for a second before shaking my head. "What about him?"

"He’s not doing great.." Nick sighs, setting his cup down. "Hasn’t left his room since he got back. Barely talks to anyone. It’s like he’s just.. shut down. I’ve never seen him like this before."

I press my lips together, looking out the window instead of at him. I don’t know how to respond to that, because I don’t even know how I feel about it. I exhale slowly, fingers tightening around my glass.

Nick watches me for a moment, then leans forward slightly. "Do you want to talk to him?"

The question lingers between us, heavier than I expected. I feel my heart start to race, but I force myself to stay composed.

"I don’t know.." I admit, and it’s the truth. Because I really don’t. “Maybe not at the minute..”

Nick nods in understanding, not pushing me for an answer I’m not ready to give. Instead, he offers a small smile, his voice softer when he speaks again. "I miss you in the house, you know. It’s different without you there."

I glance up at him, and for a second, I see the sincerity in his expression. "I liked living there too" I admit. Because even though I left, there were parts of it that felt like home.

Nick leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table. "Where are you staying now?"

I hesitate for a second, but I know I can trust him. "Four Seasons.." I say, keeping my voice low. "But please, don’t tell Matt."

Nick raises his hands in surrender. "I won’t" he promises. "You don’t have to worry about that."

I nod, letting out a small breath of relief. At least I have that.

We wrap up brunch, settling the bill before stepping outside. Nick shoves his hands into his pockets as he looks at me. "You know" he starts, "when you’re ready, you should come over to the house.."

I swallow, shifting my weight. The idea of going back feels impossible right now, like reopening a wound that hasn't even started to heal. But I nod anyway, because I know he means well. "Yeah.." I say, even though I don’t know if I mean it.

He nods at my reply, understanding that everything is still fresh. We make plans to meet up during the week and go our separate ways.

As I step into my hotel room, I try to shake off the conversation with Nick. It’s not that I don’t miss the house, I do. But going back feels like stepping onto unsteady ground, like I might fall through if I’m not careful.

I plop myself onto the bed, running a hand through my hair as I try to mentally prepare myself for work tomorrow. Avoiding Matt has been hard enough, but now I have to face Chris.

Our conversations have been brief since everything went down. Just the bare minimum. I do miss my friendship with him. He hasn’t pushed for details, hasn’t asked me to explain, but I know he wants to. I know he’s holding back.

And I don’t know what I’ll do if tomorrow is the day he finally decides to ask.

I Uber to the warehouse the next day, my stomach twisting with nerves the entire ride. I stare out the window, trying to convince myself that this is just another work meeting, like all the others I’ve had before. 

But it’s not. 

Because before, I wasn’t avoiding Matt. Before, I didn’t have to worry about Chris asking questions I don’t want to answer.

As the car pulls up outside the warehouse, I take a deep breath, gathering myself. The last thing I need is to look like a mess walking in. I grab my bag, thank the driver, and step out onto the pavement. I adjust my jacket and head inside, hoping that Chris has some sense and didn’t bring Matt along.

The second I step through the doors, I scan the space. A few of the guys are already here, setting up for the meeting, but there’s no sign of Matt. 

Thank god.

I walk further in, acting as if nothing is wrong, as if my whole life hasn’t just been flipped upside down.

Chris is standing near the table, flipping through a folder, but when he sees me, he straightens up. His expression is unreadable, but I catch the way his eyes scan over me, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m okay.

I ignore it. I’m here for work. Nothing else.

Everyone gathers into the meeting room and we get straight into business. No small talk, no lingering stares, just work.

Chris pulls out a schedule, laying it flat on the table as I take a seat across from him. The boys are heading on tour in two weeks, and we need to figure out how much Fresh Love stock we need to be available at each location. Logistics, shipment schedules, venue capacities, it all needs to be finalised before they hit the road.

I flip open my notebook, running through the numbers I calculated last night. “Based on the last tour’s sales and the fact we’ve larger venues this time, we’re estimating a 30% increase in demand, especially in Boston and LA. With the new drop, we might see a spike in other locations like Toronto. so we need to get ahead of that.”

Chris nods, tapping his pen against the table. “I was thinking the same thing. We’re adding pop ups along the way this time too, so we’ll need extra stock for those.” He glances at the list in front of him, then looks back up. “We’re not overproducing, though. Last thing we need is leftover inventory sitting in storage.”

“Exactly.” I jot down a few adjustments. “I’ll check with the manufacturers to see how quickly they can push out additional units if we need to restock mid tour.”

He leans back slightly, watching me for a second. “You sure you’re good handling this?” His tone is casual, but there’s an underlying concern to his words.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” I say, giving him a smirk.

There’s a pause, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he nods and keeps going, moving onto the next city on the list. Business as usual.

As the meeting wraps up, everyone starts gathering their things, chairs scraping against the floor as people head for the door. I organise my notes, trying to keep my focus on work rather than the tension that’s been hanging over me since I walked in.

I hear Chris’s voice over the low murmurs of conversation. “Hey, Y/n, can you stay back for a sec?”

I pause, gripping my pen a little tighter before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

The last few people file out, leaving just the two of us in the now empty warehouse office. The silence settles between us, heavier than it should be. I don’t look at him right away, instead pretending to double check my notes, but I can feel his eyes on me.

"You okay?" I ask, breaking the silence.

Chris exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I just wanted to talk.." he says. "I-I’m sorry for everything that happened."

I shake my head immediately. "Chris, you don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault-"

But he cuts me off. "Nah, it is. Or at least, I feel like it is." His voice is lower now, tinted with tones of regret. "If I had any idea what kind of mess this would turn into, I never would’ve brought them out” he says again, like he needs to convince himself. "I thought it was gonna be a good time, just us all hanging out. I didn’t think-" He stops himself, exhaling sharply. "I didn’t think it’d end with you leaving."

I swallow, suddenly feeling the reality of it all again. He’s not wrong. If things had gone differently that night, maybe I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, or living in a hotel, avoiding everyone. Maybe I’d be at home. Maybe Matt and I would still be a thing.

But that’s not what happened.

"It’s not on you, Chris" I say, finally. "You couldn’t have known."

"But I should have, I should’ve been more aware of what was going on around me." His eyes meet mine, and there’s something raw there, something that makes my chest tighten.

"For what it’s worth" he continues, "I broke things off with Rachel that night after dinner. I didn’t invite either of them there..they just showed up. And honestly? It felt intentional, like they were trying to get to you. I don’t know if Rachel was in on it, but Christina.. she knew what she was doing."

I stare at him, trying to process it. 

He ended things with Rachel? 

Because of me?

I had assumed Chris didn’t care, that he had just let it slide, but he actually broke things off with Rachel over it. And not only that, he saw through Christina’s act too.

"I would never want to be with someone who tries to hurt my close friends" he adds, his voice firm.

Something about hearing him say that hits home. I had always thought Chris gave people too many chances, but this? This was different.

"You really ended it with her?" I ask, still trying to wrap my head around it.

Chris nods. "Yeah. That night. I wasn’t gonna be with someone who plays games like that. It was all way too intentional"

I look away, exhaling slowly. "Yeah it seems like everything Christina does is intentional. Chris, if you could’ve heard the things she was saying that night in the club.."

He frowns, his brows furrowing. "What did she say?"

I sigh, shaking my head as I recall Christina’s smug expression that night.

"She was saying that connections like theirs never really go away, and that “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”. So.. you know what she was insinuating."

Chris narrows his eyes slightly, confused. "What is she insinuating?"

I hesitate, not sure if I really want to say it out loud. But there’s no point in hiding it now.

"That her and Matt slept together in Vegas, just before Hawaii." I finally say, watching his reaction carefully.

Chris’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and then his expression shifts, part confusion, part irritation. "No they didn’t?" he says immediately, shaking his head. "That’s bullshit."

I stare at him, waiting for him to say more, waiting for some kind of explanation.

"Matt slept on the couch when she stayed in the room" Chris continues. "I might have been drunk, but I remember that well."

I search his face for any sign of dishonesty, but there’s nothing, just certainty. And suddenly, everything makes even more sense. 

Christina had been lying. 

Trying to get under my skin.

Trying to twist the situation into something worse than it already was.

Chris watches me, his expression softer now. "You really thought they did that?"

I exhale, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. "I didn’t know what to think, Chris. She made it sound like..like it was obvious."

His jaw tightens, and I can tell he’s pissed now, but not at me. "I should’ve known she’d pull something like this."

I exhale slowly, letting Chris’s words sink in. It’s a relief, at least I know now that nothing happened between them in Vegas. That part of the situation isn't as messy as I thought. But it doesn’t make the rest of it any better. It doesn’t erase the fact that Matt still brought her back, still entertained her, still let her linger around long enough to stir everything up. If anything, it just confuses me more.

Because now, I’m left wondering why Matt did it.

Did he really not see what she was doing? Did he not care? Or was there some part of him that still wanted her around?

Chris watches me carefully, probably noticing the way my thoughts are spiraling. "I know this doesn’t fix everything" he says. "But you should at least know that information, can’t have you believing something that wasn’t true."

I nod, but I don’t say anything right away. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about this one lie. It’s about everything that’s happened since. The trust that’s been shaken. The way I left without saying another word to Matt.

"Thank you for telling me" I finally say, even though my mind is still a mess.

Chris sighs. "Yeah. I just..I feel like I should’ve done more. Should’ve realized what she was trying to do before it got this bad."

I shake my head. "It’s not on you, Chris. Honestly."

We sit in silence for a moment, I know Chris means it, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is the situation we’re in now. And I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.

Chris breaks his silence to apologise again, "Anything else I can do to help, just say the word."

I nod, appreciating the sentiment, but before I can respond, he steps forward and pulls me into a hug. It catches me off guard at first, but I don’t hesitate to hug him back. After everything, it feels good to know that at least this, our friendship, hasn’t changed.

"You want a ride?" he asks as he pulls away.

I hesitate for a second but then nod. "Yeah, that’d be great."

We head out to his car, and as soon as we slide in, Chris gestures toward the screen. "Put the address in the GPS."

I type in the address, and as we pull onto the road, I glance over at him. "Thanks, Chris. For everything."

He shrugs, eyes focused on the road ahead. "That’s what friends are for, right?"

I nod, a small smile pulling at my lips. Despite everything that’s happened, at least I know my friendship with Chris hasn’t been ruined. That means more than I realized.

Matt’s POV

I never got a chance to talk to Nick after he met up with Y/n yesterday, and with Chris in a meeting right now, one that Y/n is also in, I figure now is as good a time as any.

I hear movement in the kitchen, the sound of a cabinet closing, followed by the faint clink of a glass. I assume it’s Nick, so I head out, finding him leaning against the counter.

"Hey" I say, stepping in.

He looks up. "Whats up?"

I waste no time getting to the point. "How was yesterday?"

Nick nods, setting his glass down on the counter. "It was good. It was nice to spend time with Y/n."

I hesitate for a second before asking, "How’s she doing?"

He exhales lightly, crossing his arms. "She’s holding it together pretty well."

I nod slowly, absorbing that information, before asking the real question that’s been nagging at me. "Did you find out where she’s staying?"

Nick pauses, just for a second, then, he shakes his head. "No."

I study him for a moment, trying to gauge if he’s telling the truth. I don’t push it, though. Instead, I just nod again, glancing down at the floor before looking back up at him.

"Alright.." I say, even though it’s not alright.

I wish Chris was home. I could really do with a drive right now to clear my head.

He took the car earlier to drop Nate off at the airport, then went straight to his meeting. I don’t know why, but something about driving aimlessly around, music playing, and just watching life pass by always helps me think. Clears out the noise in my head, even if only for a little while.

Nick and I are still standing in the kitchen, making small talk, but my mind isn’t really in it. My thoughts are circling back to Y/n, to what Nick said, or maybe more to what he didn’t say.

Before I can dwell on it any further, we both hear the garage door open. A moment later, the sound of footsteps echoes up the stairs.

Chris.

I glance toward the stairway as he comes into view, looking slightly worn out but otherwise the same as always. He pulls his keys from his pocket and tosses them onto the counter, running a hand through his hair.

"Yo" he greets us, voice a little rough from the long day.

"Hey, how was your meeting?" Nick says, and I just nod in acknowledgement.

Chris glances between the two of us. "Yeah it was good, just finalised a few things. What’s up with you?" He says in my direction.

I exhale, shaking my head slightly. "Nothing. Just.. thinking."

Chris raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t say anything more. And for a second, I wonder if now’s the time to bring up Y/n.

Nick mutters something about grabbing something from his room and heads upstairs, leaving just me and Chris in the kitchen. The room feels quieter now, like there’s something hanging in the air that neither of us are addressing.

I lean against the counter, watching as Chris pulls a can of Pepsi from the fridge and takes a sip. "What was your meeting about?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

He nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Just figuring out how much Fresh Love stock we need for each location on tour."

Tour.

The word lingers in my head longer than it should. I can’t believe we’re leaving in two weeks. It crept in so fast, and now, everything feels unfinished.

I really hope I get the opportunity to speak to Y/n before then.

Chris doesn’t say anything else, just leans back against the counter, drinking his soda. I want to ask him if he spoke to her, if she stayed behind after the meeting, anything..but I hesitate.

Instead, I just exhale and run a hand through my hair. "Two weeks.." I mumble, more to myself than to him.

Chris glances at me. "Yeah. Gonna be a long one."

I nod, but my mind isn’t on the tour. It’s on Y/n. On whether or not she’ll even want to speak to me before we go. I need to ask him about Y/n now before I explode.

“How was Y/n?”

“She seemed fine, but I think she’s just on autopilot. You know how she is, she can handle anything.”

I nod, but that doesn’t sit right with me. Y/n might be strong, but that doesn’t mean she’s okay. She shuts down when she’s hurt, and if she’s really just going through the motions, it means she’s not dealing with it, just burying it. And that’s worse.

Chris rubs the back of his neck, then looks at me. “You heard from her at all?”

I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “No.”

The silence stretches between us, thick with the weight of everything that’s happened. I hesitate before asking, “Do you know where she’s staying?”

Chris exhales, shaking his head. “Nah, man.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, gripping the edge of the counter. It’s been days, and I still have no idea where she is. Both of my brothers have seen her, talked to her, spent time with her, and neither of them has managed to find out a single fucking thing about where she’s staying. Not an address, not a neighborhood, not even a hint.

“She really doesn’t want to be found” I mutter under my breath.

Chris doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies me. Then, with a sigh, he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Give her time, man.”

I don’t want to give her time. I want to fix this. I want to see her, to explain, to do whatever it takes to make this right. But if she doesn’t want to be found, what the hell am I supposed to do?

Now that the car is back, I can finally clear my head. I grab my set of keys and make my way down to the garage, slipping into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. 

As the screen on the dash lights up, a notification pops up from the GPS - "Suggesting Last Route."

I glance at it, expecting it to be Nate’s airport drop off or something random. But then, my eyes lock onto the text.

"Last Route: The Four Seasons."

My chest tightens. 

The Four Seasons?

I stare at the screen, my grip tightening around the steering wheel. That’s not where Nate was staying, he wasn’t even staying in a hotel. That’s not a place any of us usually go. There’s only one person it could be.

Y/n.

She’s staying there. 

That has to be it.

Wait? Last GPS location?

Chris drove her there.

The realization slams into me like a bus. I feel it in my chest, heavy and suffocating. 

He knew.

The whole damn time, he knew where she was. He drove her there, watched her walk away, and didn’t say a single fucking word to me. Not even a hint. Not even when I was practically begging for answers.

I grip the wheel so tight my fingers ache. My pulse is pounding in my ears, drowning out every other thought except one.

Chris fucking knew.

I turn off the car and bolt into the house, barging my way into Chris' room, where he's laying on the bed.

"The Four Seasons?!" I yell at him. He sits up,looking shocked, but he doesn’t say anything.

"That’s where she’s staying? You just brought her there?" I demand, my voice sharp.

"Look, man, I didn’t-" Chris starts, but I cut him off before he can even try to explain.

"You knew and didn’t tell me?" I’m furious, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Chris exhales, rubbing his face like he’s frustrated when I’m the one who should be pissed. "Look.. She text me and asked me if I could do her a favour as soon as she landed back from Hawaii.. I felt guilty for how everything went down, like I was the cause of it all and felt like I owed her one, so I booked her the hotel. Plus she is an employee, I had to help." He meets my eyes, his voice steady but firm. "But Matt, she didn’t want you to know, and I had to respect that.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You had to respect that?” My voice is laced with disbelief. “What about me, Chris? What about the fact that I’ve been losing my fucking mind, not knowing where she is, not knowing if she’s okay? You let me sit here, tearing myself apart, and you knew this whole fucking time?”

Chris sighs, swinging his legs off the bed so he’s sitting up straighter, his hands clasped together like he’s preparing for a fight. "Matt, I get that you’re pissed-"

I cut him off again. "Pissed? Pissed doesn’t even cover it, man! I asked you! Multiple times! And you stood there and lied to my face."

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "It wasn’t my place to tell you."

I step forward, pointing at him. "Bullshit. You just didn’t wanna feel like the bad guy again. You didn’t wanna deal with me being mad, so you kept your mouth shut and let me go crazy over this while you and Nick played the good guys."

Chris finally pushes himself off the bed, standing up to face me. "I was trying to help her, Matt. She needed space. What the hell was I supposed to do? Force her to talk to you?"

"Yes!" I snap. "Because I deserve that! I deserved a fucking conversation, Chris!"

His jaw tightens, and for a second, we just stand there, staring each other down, breathing heavily. The air between us is filled with tension, neither of us backing down.

Chris runs a hand down his face, muttering under his breath before looking back at me. "She wasn’t ready, man."

I shake my head. "Yeah? And what about when she is? You just gonna keep lying for her until then?"

Chris doesn’t answer. He finally looks guilty, like my words actually hit him. But I don’t wait for a response. I turn and walk out, slamming the door behind me.

a/n : we're coming to the end of the series im gonna cryyyyy

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[losers-clvb]

meeting the family soldier boy x female!reader

summary: you take ben to meet your crazy family. you're a bundle of nerves, but ben assures you everything will be fine. he just has to keep his mouth shut -- a nearly impossible task for the supe.

content: swearing, mentions of sex, ben may be slight ooc (he's just not craycray right now), mentions of ben and reader's respective pasts, fluff, surprisingly respectful ben (but he's still makes his own comments.

word count: 4.6k

note: i went a little off-the-rails with this one. i envisioned it as yapper reader from it will come back and talk too much, but there is no outright connection with her. i'm in love with what i've created here, so expect more of this family.

m.list

“Ben.” You groaned out his name, again, when you felt his hands on your hips, again.

Seems like fifth time was the charm, because he backed off.

“You’re no fuckin’ fun.” He muttered with his usual I-need-to-get-what-I-want attitude, rolling his eyes. You swore he was worse than a teenage girl with his small temper tantrums.

“We’re already running late.” You flicked your eyes to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Which, I’ll remind you, is your fault.”

“Didn’t seem like it was my fault when I woke up with your hand around my fuckin’ cock.”

Maybe part of this, a very small and insignificant part, was your fault.

“Yeah, well, I woke up to it poking me in the back.”

Tousling your hair to try to get it to go the right way -- whatever direction that was --, you felt his eyes rake up your body.

“Not my fault my girl is so damn sexy.” He took a step forward, prompting you to spin around and stick a hand out to stop him.

Ben pouted -- actually pouted -- at your rejection.

If it were any other day, a day that didn’t include you practically biting your nails to the bone in anticipation, you would have been happy to get back into bed, maybe move to the couch or, Ben’s favorite, the bathroom sink so you could watch yourself fall apart in the mirror.

Unfortunately for you both, home was hours away, but your family was just a quick drive across town.

Lucky you!

“I told you to watch that mouth, mister.” You waggled a finger at him, narrowing your eyes to show you meant business.

“ ‘Damn’ is hardly offensive, doll.”

“I’ll show you how offensive I can be if you keep it up.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He reached for you again. The swat to the back of his hand was instantaneous.

“Behave.” Your voice was stern, but the swallow after betrayed it. “Please.”

It wasn’t as if you were embarrassed of Ben. No, you didn’t give a shit if the old lady at the grocery store thought he was too touchy, or if your boss thought he swore too much.

But this was your family.

The people who raised you, who had to deal with your awkward phase of only wearing green for an entire year, the ones who teased you when you had your first crush. Their opinions mattered, even if you knew some of your aunts were far too judgy.

In theory, the fact that Ben was a supe worked to your advantage. America’s Son as your boyfriend, what girl wouldn’t love to bring that home to mom and dad?

Then the drinking and drugs and stubborn fucking attitude reminded you of all the reasons why they wouldn’t like him. Not to mention the fact that he was older than your grandfather.

Oh God, your grandfather. The eighty year old was going to hate Ben. He had hated your first boyfriend, who was top of his class at the nearby university. Though, perhaps the old man had a point, seeing how you had found the dickhead in bed with his professor.

“You ready, doll?”

Ben’s gravel woke you from your thoughts. He knew you had been thinking too much. He always knew when you were thinking too much. You inspected yourself one last time before nodding.

“I guess.” You sighed, swiping up your purse. You allowed him to sling an arm over your shoulders, but sent him a warning glare when his fingers fiddled with the strap of your dress.

“No need to worry, sweetheart,” he held the car door open for you, kissing the side of your head, “parents love me.”

You climbed into the car and frowned up at him.

There was no way parents loved him. He was the kind of guy they warned against, the one you brought home to spite your mother when she mentioned settling down.

“Don’t look so fuckin’ skeptical.” Ben scoffed when you just looked at him with your I don’t believe you face. Ignoring the amused smile on your face, he sauntered to the driver’s side of the car, slipping in.

“You’re telling me that you, Mr. Fuckin’ Weed and Whiskey,” you imitated his voice on “fuckin’”, he rolled his eyes, “have gotten a girl’s parents to like you.” The last part of your sentence came out with a laugh of disbelief.

“I’ve got it in me.” Ben defended, making another point pop into your head.

“You’ve never had to do this before.” You scoffed, the realization that you had no idea what to expect from this making your anxiety grow.

“Doll, I wasn’t worried about meetin’ mom when I had ‘em bent over the counter.” Ben tried to dismiss while pulling onto the road.

“Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.” You muttered, chewing on your lower lip. He did a double take, eyes flitting from the road to your nervous expression.

Clicking his tongue to get your attention, he brought his hand up to cradle your chin. He wiggled his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to release your skin to allow space for the intrusion.

“You may be my first, but I promise, you’re gonna be my last.”

The words washed over you, coating you in a peace you hadn’t known until you met Ben. He liked to do this, remind you of his love without actually saying it. You’d heard the words a total of two times in your relationship. It never felt like they were missing, not when he held doors open and spoon-fed you soup when you were sick.

His thumb retracted once he was sure you were calmed. Tangling his fingers in yours, the drive was filled with a comfortable silence, something Ben had taught you to be okay with.

Part of the reason why you were so hesitant to introduce him to your family stemmed from your childhood.

Where Ben had been raised as a nuisance, you had been cherished since day one.

Birthdays were filled with off-key singing and cheek-kisses from relatives. Talent shows were another thing in themselves, three rows of chairs taken up by cheering. Siblings grouped together to fight when school bullies dared to mess with you. Your aunts worked around the clock to knit a blanket when you went away to college.

You didn’t want him to see what he had missed out on.

“Christ, doll, you didn’t tell me you were loaded.” Ben chuckled when the looming farmhouse came into view. You made a face, knowing damn well his father had been far wealthier than your family.

Still, you couldn’t deny the fact that your parents weren’t exactly living paycheck to paycheck.

The family farm had been in business since… well, you weren’t all too aware of the specific year, just that the creaky floorboards on the porch had been placed by your great grandfather.

Summers were spent playing in the cherry trees, plucking the sweet fruit from the branches whenever you pleased. No one lived on these acres of land full-time, opting to share the space. Cousins and friends-of-the-family drifted in and out of the farmhouse throughout the months, ensuring there was always fresh lemonade in the fridge.

All of your firsts had happened in the barn off to the side of the property; first steps, first kiss, first time having sex -- though you would take that last piece of information to your grave.

“Don’t touch the good china,” you warned teasingly, a warm smile blossoming on your face when your cousin, Lina, sprinted for the car.

She was younger than you by about ten years, you taking on more of an older sister role in her life. She was a good kid, you told about everyone you came into contact with.

Ben hadn’t even shifted the car into park before you were jumping out to wrap your arms around her. She squealed your name into your hair.

“I missed you!” She pulled away, bouncing on her toes while you looked over her.

“Is that my dress?” You asked. It was something you hadn’t worn in years, but you would have recognized the light blue material anywhere.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Yes.” She admitted sheepishly, looking to the ground.

“I knew it!”

“You left it in the upstairs closet! What else was I supposed to do?” She was on the defensive, a hand on her hip. You laughed and ruffled her hair, causing her to grumble out a complaint, but her own giggle cut through it.

“Who’s this gorgeous girl?”

Ben stepped up next to you, a basket of cookies in one hand while the other rested on the small of your back. Lina immediately blushed, and you didn’t blame her.

Anyone who was attracted to the male species would blush if Ben called them gorgeous.

“Lina-bug.” You answered, making her scrunch her nose up at the nickname.

“I’m not five.” She complained, sticking her tongue out at you despite the words.

“You’ll always be five to me.” You promised, curling into Ben out of pure instinct.

It was at that moment you noticed something dark, almost bruise-like peeking out at you from the collar of Lina’s -- your -- dress.

“What the hell is that?” You demanded, poking at the spot.

Lina paled, pulling away from your grasp. Her eyes flicked from you to Ben, blushing when she realized you both knew exactly what the hell it was.

She wasn’t a child, having turned seventeen just the month before. It was still far too young to be doing anything of this nature, anything that left a hickey on her collarbone for the entire family to see.

Ignoring the larger quantity of much darker marks littering your inner thighs, you opened your mouth to lecture her on why boys were stupid and not worth her time.

The call of your first and middle name made the breath choke in your throat.

“For your sake, I hope my ears just need a good cleanin’ and I didn’t just hear those words come from your mouth!”

Aunt Mavis was bounding her way across the yard, wearing her signature yellow sunhat. You cringed, a memory of the woman flushing soap into your mouth as a child for calling your brother a beach -- you hadn’t heard the word correctly -- flashing through your mind.

“Watch your mouth, doll.” Ben mumbled to you, teasing you with your earlier words. You grumbled out a warning to him.

Lina took the distraction as a chance to get the hell out of there.

“Look at you!” Mavis beamed, throwing her arms out like she hadn’t been ready to lock you in the potato cellar just a moment earlier. “My great-niece, the most beautiful girl in the world!”

Nevermind the fact that she called everyone the most beautiful. It was one of the things you loved about her. Sure, she may be old-fashioned in her childhood punishments, but she loved her family wholly.

You inched toward her, biting down on your tongue to keep from gasping at the subtle slide of Ben’s hand to your ass.

Mavis engulfed you in her rose-scented perfume, squeezing you tight enough to juice you like a lemon. Her eyes must have caught onto the tall frame of the man behind you, because, in an instant, she was standing toe-to-toe with him. You blinked.

C’mon, Mav, you thought, silently urging the woman to say something, anything.

On the spectrum of intensity, she was quite tame. If she didn’t like Ben, there was no hope.

“You’re trouble.” Mavis waggled a finger at him, a teasing smirk tilting onto her face.

It wasn’t a hardcore stamp of approval, but it wasn’t a dismissal, either. You took it as a win, letting out the breath you had sucked in the moment you laid eyes on your aunt.

“Only if you’re askin’ for it.” Ben responded, winking.

Oh my God.

You dropped your jaw, heart stuttering as you thought of all the ways Mavis would berate him.

Only, Mavis didn’t look offended.

She let out a hearty laugh, wrapping her arms around Ben’s torso.

“I like you.” She announced, pulling him in tight.

Ben drifted his eyes to you, smirking.

I told you so, they said.

Not my mom, yours responded.

He had won over one aunt, albeit a very influential aunt, but the real work would begin with the others.

With the intent to officially introduce him to her, you opened your mouth. A pang of sweet drifted to your nose, making your eyes flutter shut.

“Cherry rolls?” You breathed out, sighing slightly. It was an unconscious thing, something you had to thank her for Pavloving you into stopping at the first scent of the baked good.

“This one is practically a bloodhound when it comes to dessert.” Mavis tutted, jabbing her thumb at you.

“You made cherry rolls?” You were getting impatient with her teasing.

“Well, yes.” Mavis answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re your favorite.”

It had been years since you had one of Mavis’ cherry rolls. She’d come up with the recipe herself, quickly using it as a tool to get the kids’ energy out on long days. She would send you and your siblings out with baskets, tasking you all with plucking cherries from the trees. It was long work, especially when the three of you could only reach the bottom branches.

The end result?

Heaven.

You would gorge yourself on the sweet if it didn't mean being bloated for the rest of the week.

Once you moved to the city, your opportunities for eating it were, well, zero. You didn’t have the skill to make it, and every family event was missing either you or her. It broke your heart some days, not just because you missed the taste; you missed the memories it brought back.

The fact that Mavis had so obviously made them with you in mind -- though you were sure the other nieces and nephews had begged for them as well -- had tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Aurora sprung up like a weed, you’ll never believe it’s her.” Mavis babbled, grabbing your hand to guide you to the house. You, not wanting to leave behind the reason this get-together was happening, looped your pinkie around Ben’s, dragging him along.

“And Betsy is on this health-kick, but I swear on dear Rufus’ grave,” Rufus the dog, “that she’s swiping cookies from the jar.”

The worn-wood steps of the wrap-around porch creaked a complaint when you three ascended, as they had for as long as you could walk. Every year, Uncle Jerry promised he would find a way to fix them. And every year, he would be passed out on the porch swing, a beer in one hand, a hammer in the other, the steps remaining untouched.

Deep down you hoped they would always make a noise. It was the soundtrack to your dreams; creaking porches, leaves fluttering in the wind, the creek water’s constant flow.

“Oh. My. God.”

You knew the voice without even looking. Your cousin, Evie, who had nudged her way into the aunts’ circle after turning thirty.

Her words triggered the mob, pulling them from their juices and shit talking to swarm your man. They crowded around him like a flock of chickens -- clucked about just like them as well.

“Look at his hair-”

“Nice facial structure-”

“Thought he’d be taller-”

The poking at his arms and chest was when you stepped in, shooing them off. If you were less kind, or if Ben had made another smart-ass remark, you would have left him to the rolls.

He should feel honored, really, that you were choosing to save him instead of diving into the still-steaming plate of rolls on the counter.

“Back off, ladies. He’s mine.” The words were teasing, knowing that these women loved a good piece of eye candy around.

Ben made a show of throwing his arms over two of your aunts, hugging them in close.

“Aww, c’mon, doll,” you swore they all swooned at the pet name, “there’s enough of me to go around.”

“There certainly is.” A voice in the group murmured suggestively, making the others giggle.

You cut a glare over them, trying your best to be intimidating. Everyone in the room knew it didn’t work. Where your siblings were compared to wolves, growing up everyone called you a bunny. Not even a fully-grown rabbit. A bunny, you know, cute and fluffy and unable to scare even a fly away. Yeah, that was you.

Ben watched over your attempts, an amused smile and raised eyebrow making you frown. He chuckled and stepped over to you, pulling you into his arms.

“Aww…” The chorus cooed from behind him.

He bent his neck down to kiss you, lips moving against yours with a stifled passion.

“Aww!” This was practically a squeal. In your mind, you saw your Aunt Hilly pull out her phone, snapping pictures of the scene. She was a self-proclaimed photographer, though her equipment consisted of a beat down iPhone and the occasional flashlight.

“I know my girl doesn’t share,” Ben mumbled to you when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. You smiled up at him.

“That is disgusting.”

You spun on your heel to face your little brother, Peter. Not that he was little anymore. The boy -- he’s a year younger than you -- stood taller than you, the same height he had sprung to in middle school seemingly overnight. You scowled at the stupid bunch of hair on his upper lip.

“You’re the one with a caterpillar on your face.” You poked a finger in his face. A noise of surprise came out when he moved to bite at it. There had been a time when he really did bite your finger, leading to an early morning trip to the emergency room for stitches. You still had a little scar running across the knuckle.

“Ladies love this caterpillar, Buggy.”

You frowned at the nickname. Buggy. It made you feel like a little kid again, but you also couldn’t ignore the spark of warmth that came with the familiarity of it all.

“I promise you, they do not. And don’t call me that!”

“They do-,”

“Can you two stop bickering and set the dang table?” Your mother’s voice cut your brother off before he could dig himself deeper into your irritation. It was all in good fun, you would go from yelling in each other’s faces to laughter-filled bike rides in a matter of minutes while growing up.

“Momma!” You ran to her, nearly knocking the older woman over with your hug. You ignored the new wrinkles at her eyes and the peek-through of grey hairs. She wasn’t allowed to get older.

“No makeouts in the kitchen, honey.” It wasn’t the first time she had said it, and you doubted it would be the last -- whoever Lina was spending her time with would learn soon enough.

“We weren’t making out.” You defended, sounding all too much like that teenager that your mother had to drive to college.

A smile crinkled the edges of her eyes again and she smoothed down your hair.

“I love you.” She mumbled. Her eyes flicked behind you, where Ben was being examined by Peter. It was a wordless thing, simply eyes scanning your boyfriend like he was an alien that had been beamed down.

“This is Ben.” You explained, lacing your fingers into his. With all the chaos, you hadn’t noticed his silence.

While he had made his occasional comments, he was more watching it all go down. You bouncing around the place, so happy and free. Your family teasing you with warmth and love in their words.

It was the kind of place he had dreamed of being in as a child -- not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“Mmm, right…,” Your mother hummed, looking him up and down. She knew Soldier Boy -- everyone did -- but she was more interested in knowing how Ben acted, how he treated you.

You could tell her a million times he’s perfect, so nice and she would never believe you. You were too kind -- maybe her fault for raising you to be as such -- and you would let love cloud your judgements.

When you called to say that her favorite supe from her childhood was your new boyfriend, she felt that ache come on. Vought tried their best to cover the scandal Soldier Boy would get into, but as she grew, your mother reflected on both his words and actions, finding them to be less respectful than she had once thought.

“Momma, stop starin’ him down.” You almost whined, stepping further in front of Ben to shield him from her gaze. It didn’t do much -- Ben towered over you.

To make you feel more important, he rested his hands on your shoulder, the one holding your hand never letting go.

“Benjamin-,” your mother started, but you cut her off.

“Ben.”

“You hurt her and you’ll figure out what we hide under those cherry trees.” Your mother hissed lowly, a contradiction to the sweet smile she gave the two of you after them.

You paled.

“I’m keepin’ our girl safe ‘til the end of time, ma’am.” Ben responded. You could hear him holding back a chuckle. You watched her give him a simple nod, like they had come to an agreement, and turn back to whatever task she had pulled herself from.

“She’s joking.” You laughed nervously up at him. I hope, you refrained from adding.

“She’s a spitfire like you, doll.” Ben gave you a chaste kiss. You melted into him.

The onlookers you called family were back to their own stories, chittering coming from all directions. You caught on to a few names and places, noting the tone in which all of them were said.

“Do you like them? Or do I need to redownload Tinder?” You added that last part as a way to mask your anxiety. Ben saw right through it, as he did with most things you did. There wasn’t anything you could get past him, though it worked vice versa.

Ben didn’t know about all the times you sensed his aggression before he even opened his mouth. He didn’t know about the way you would walk an extra block on the way home just to pick up his favorite biscuits because you knew he was having a bad day. He didn’t know because you liked knowing something he didn’t.

“You keep that damned thing gone.” He grumbled, pulling at your hips. You snorted out a laugh, remembering the look on his face when he had stumbled upon a dick pic -- a very unasked for dick pic -- from some guy. It was before you were officially dating, and you hadn’t actually opened the app in months, but that did nothing to stop Ben from reminding you exactly how much of you was his. Spoiler alert, it was all of you, and his actions left the two of you panting and spent.

“They love you. They must be good people.” Ben shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I love them, and I love you, I just want you all to get along.” You sputtered out, playing with the fabric of his shirt under your fingers.

You’d said I love you many times to him, yet it never stopped the bloom of warmth in his stomach.

God, you were turning him into a soft-ass man, pussywhipped beyond belief.

He’d hated it at first, trying to turn you away for who knows how many weeks in the beginning. You’d never stopped coming back, crawling into his lap, and saying the words again and again until you were whimpering them into his ear while he thrust into you. He’d learned to let you care for him, ignore the bubbling hatred for anything lovely in his life.

“I know.” He breathed, soothing you with the familiar gruff of his voice. You curled into him, letting him hold you until your brother yanked at your arm, complaining that he had to do everything and you always get away with not helping.

Dinner skimmed by without much of a problem, aside from Ben’s immediate reaction to your father’s barbecued meats.

“Holy shit.” He had moaned. You were grateful it was somewhat quiet, only catching the attention of the youngest of the cousins at the adult table. The thirteen year old looked at you with wide eyes, a bashful giggle bursting out. You had shushed her and, after some very skillful manipulation -- you had no idea where she had learned how to do it --, you were signed up to bring her dress shopping for her middle school’s fall dance.

Now, you were stuck on dish duty with your sister-in-law, something that was only bearable because you found common ground in complaining about your sister’s odd habits. You were listening to her complain about how your sibling left a full dishwasher without starting it when the boisterous laugh of Ben’s caught your ear.

“She brought home this… guy.” This was your father, who immediately got along with Ben upon meeting him. You tried not to think of things they had in common. You didn’t want to be dating your father.

“He wouldn’t look at us, he kept sticking his hand up her shirt at dinner, and, the worst part, he ate everything with soy sauce. Even Marcie’s,” Marcie was your mom, “mac and cheese.”

Oh God.

He was telling Ben about that horrid boyfriend you had when you were twenty. You, thinking he was the love of your life despite every conversation being about him, brought him home for a family dinner. It was smaller than this whole thing, but still held your immediate family, including your grandfather, who, now, was sitting out on the porch with Ben and your father.

“Sounds like a real asshole.”

You choked on your breath, sending you into a coughing fit. Of course he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. It was the end of the night, you were so close to freedom from your fairly conservative family, yet Ben had to silence the entire house, children and all, with that fucking word.

Everyone stilled, even if they weren’t on the porch, even if they had only caught the ass part.

All eyes pointed in your grandfather’s direction. The old man didn’t take well to swearing, not with the way his parents had raised him. Your father slipped up sometimes, but never so obvious as Ben had. You cringed in preparation for the lecture on why Ben was the worst person alive and why you needed to find a new boyfriend.

You tilted your head to get a better view out of the window just as a smile wrinkled the skin around your grandfather’s eyes. He let out a gravelly laugh, eyes twinkling like Ben was simply an old friend he had lost touch with.

“The biggest.” Your grandfather agreed, raising his glass of whiskey in Ben’s direction before taking a sip.

That was the last blow to your nervous energy, turning that anxiety into mush. You let out a relieved breath. The family went back to their gossiping or bickering or whatever else they had gotten up to.

You rinsed the last dish, leaving it to dry on the towel near the sink before joining the three men on the porch. You silently settled into your favorite seat -- Ben’s lap --, cuddling into his chest while he held you.

It was a good day, all of your family finally becoming familiar with each other.

Ben had thought it before the dinner, but now he knew. This was his family as much as it was yours. He couldn’t imagine a better place to belong to, a better place to raise up a couple of kids, with you by his side.

jensen ackles taglist: @arcannaa @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

soldier boy taglist: @sl33pylilbunny

[ink3dpag3s]

Unexpected siblings AU

Aka Jazz fenton is a certified therapist friend and a tad bit of a gremlin child, but both fenton kids gain a shit ton of siblings.

Everyone knows that Jack and Maddie fenton were deeply in love with two kids when they moved to Amity Park but what wasn't known was the fact that danny was not Jack's son or that jazz wasn't Maddie's daughter. So when shit went down with the GIW, the elder fentons sent their respective kids to their other biological parents for their safety.

Jack had always known his little girls bio mother was most likely someone unsavory and quite honestly pegged them as a possible spy. This made sense to him since Jazz had been left on his doorstep a good year after her mother disappeared from Jack's life, even if that meant he probably didn't know her actual name.

Meanwhile, Maddie always knew who her sons father was afterall she had been born of old money but chose to leave that life behind once she met Jack. Maddie had gotten a bit tipsy at a gala her parents threw alongside one Brucie Wayne, which ended up in a one night stand that gave her Danny.

So, while the two teenagers were on the run from the GIW, they stuck together with Jazz, promising she wouldn't leave her brother behind unless she knew he was going to be ok before going to find her birth mother. Both siblings grew out their hair, Jazz letting her natural brown hair grow in, in order to better hide from the guys in white while danny jist let his hair get shaggy while using some of his ghost energy to change his eye color to green just enough so that his eyes wouldn't glow. It didn't take long for them to run into something they didn't expect...

*The fenton siblings standing in front of the main entrance to Wayne manor.*

Danny: I know mom and dad wanted us to be safe, but are we sure this guy would even believe us?

Jazz: *Giving her brother a small hug.* If he doesn't, you can always come with me while I search for my biological mother.

Bruce & Talia: *Stepping out of the vehicle, they used to discuss damiens safety from the one's who led a coup against Ra's, freezing once they make it to the door because of the teenage doppelganger's standing in front of them.*

Danny: *Being the certified gremlin he was, turning around pretty fast when he heard them approaching and recognizing Bruce Wayne pretty easily.* Surprise, it's a boy! Can we come inside, please?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Can't Have One Without the Other 3

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

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

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

Note: I asked about husbands and all your hoes said Bucky (with a few Sy’s in the middle). I wasn’t intending on a whole series but I thnk it would be fun to have husband!Bucky turn a bit desperate.

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

After you clean up the mess, you stay in your office. Bucky is stubborn. He's not going to run away. No, you hear him searching the house for what doesn't exist.

You finish the panels. You don't feel accomplished. You shut off your tablet but linger at your desk. You find some courage and get up.

You go into the kitchen quietly and do your best not to make noise. It doesn't matter, you know he can hear you. You take out the steak and rub some spice into it. It's easier than the marinade.

You set to quartering potatoes for a max, the starch sticking to your skin. You rinse off and check the green beans. They'll do.

"Is that your apology?" Bucky asks.

You dump the potatoes from the cutting board to the boiling water. You set the board down and face him. You frown.

"You really believe it?" You murmur.

"I don't know what to believe," he tilts his head, leaning on the door frame, a hand on his hip.

Your cheek twitches and you touch it, stilling the nervous tic. You repeal your hand and hide it behind you.

"I didn't. I know you know I'm telling the truth. You can hear it." 

He narrows his eyes, "maybe you didn't follow through, but you know, going out, flirting, it's all the same--"

"I wasn't flirting," you insist. "I'm not that type. Bucky," you set your feet. "Shouldn't I be mad you ignored my calls?"

"While I'm out there fighting off the bad guys? I can't always get to the phone," he struts across the kitchen.

"You could text me between all that," you insist.

"Got a lot on my mind when I'm out there. Now I'm gonna be worried about you and the bike jockey--"

"Really?" You grimace.

"I married you for a reason, didn't I? Why wouldn't another guy try it? Seeing you without your ring on..."

"I told you, I forgot."

"Yeah, forgot about me," he accuses.

You shake your head. You show your palms in exasperation and turn away. There's nothing you can say, nothing but what he wants to hear.

"I'm sorry about the rings. I really am. It wasn't on purpose but I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I didn't kiss you, I'm sorry I'm out of it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm... sorry I'm not good enough," You drop your arms and shrug. "I'm sorry I'm not patient or strong."

You turn your back to him and grab a wooden spoon to stir the potatoes. He sighs. It blows over you like a winter draft.

"I never said any of that--"

"You accused me of cheating," you tense. "You thought all of it."

"Christ, I'm trying to talk to you."

"Then say it, Bucky. Say what you want from me because I can't read your mind," you put the spoon down and grab the waiting skillet. "I haven't talked to you in over a month and I'm supposed to just act like nothing. I'm supposed to be okay." You slam the pan down, "I'm not okay."

"Baby--"

"Don't baby, me," you warn as you move down the counter to toss the beans in seasoning.

He nears and you go rigid. You ignore him as he gets close. He stretches his arm past you and grips the counter. He pushes himself against your back.

He nuzzles the back of your head, "I missed you. I really did. Can you blame me for getting... jealous? I got the greatest gal in the world waiting for me and I come back to see her with another guy--"

"I wasn't with him," you drone.

"Please, I'm sorry," he coaxes as his breath puffs over your scalp.

You inhale and stare at the wall, "for what?"

"For... for hurting you."

"How?" You rasp. "Tell me how you hurt me."

"Why are you doing this? I'm apologising," he clucks.

You frown, "alright, Bucky. I gotta finish up here."

He's quiet. He drags his hands off the counter and grips your hips. You wince and stop him, wavering on your feet.

"It's just nice to touch you," he growls.

"Bucky," you cringe as he kneads the extra flesh.

"You feel so good," he pushes against your ass.

"I can't. The potatoes," you shove his wrists.

"Let them burn," he slithers.

There's something there. That flicker inside. The one that wants him. It's dulled by the thought of him seeing you. The reality of what you've become. The idea of him seeing all of you makes you sick.

"That's..." you touch his hand. "Let me," you face him and force a smile. "Alright?"

"Baby, I wanna--"

"Shhh," you press a finger to his lips. His eyes flash. How can he look at you like that? Like you're not repulsive.

Because it's been a month. Because he's desperate. It's not you he wants, he just needs relief.

You slip your hand to his chest, your other along his pants. You taste pile as you unzip him. He shivers. You push your hand down his boxers and grip him. He squeezes your hip and grabs your head. He pulls you closer and presses his lips to your forehead.

He puffs as you stroke him. You stare at the top of his chest. 

It doesn't take long. He quakes and grunts, and spills inside his pants. It spears onto your fingers and palm. 

You pull your hand free as he cups your chin. He brings your head up and kisses you on the lips. You move your mouth with his, mimicking him, and he hums.

He parts and smiles. He pets your cheek and clears his throat as he backs away. You quickly turn away, your hand growing sticky.

"So, I'll finish dinner..." you say as you wash him off.

"I'm more concerned with dessert," he chuckles.

You wonder if he can hear your disgust. Not with him, but yourself. Can he sense your apathy even? Does he care? Why should he? He always gets what he wants.

[ggukgoldensoul]

travel

pairing; idol!jk x reader

summary; reader has wanted to go to japan since she started watching anime when she was a child… good thing her boyfriend wants to make her happy whatever it takes.

warnings; nothing!!! pure fluff, jk loves so so so so much reader he would d!e for her and k!ll for her, and reader also loves jk so much she would kll for him.

a/n; i have started one piece and my anime root has started again (it never disappeared) i dont know why i didn’t started it earlier, such a good masterpiece!!! 

laying on the couch of the living room with the chill air of the air-conditioning wrapping around her like a second skin, the 5 episode of the second season of jujutsu kaisen was playing on the tv, a tray of food next to her. she knew she told jungkook she would wait for him to come back from the agency, but the need to continue the shibuya arc was stronger than any feeling. 

the front door opened and jungkook came in, leaving behind his shoes and jacket in the wardrobe. he heard the voice of gojo coming from the tv and froze. she stopped the episode and slowly turned towards him. 

“i can explain it” her hands up, trying to protect herself. against what? she didn’t know.

“yah, we were supposed to watch it together” he said while walking to the couch and sat beside her, arms crossed and a pout on his face, clearly annoyed and a little sad. she looked at him and grabbed his arm, shaking it a bit. “jungkook-ah, look at me, please, im sorry” still shaking his arm, jungkook let escape a hmm. “pleaseeeeeee…”

he wasn't going to give in. 

 sitting on his lap, she took his face in her hands so he was looking at her. they looked into each other's eyes, her doe eyes and pout melted something in him. damn, he couldn't stay mad at her. with a sigh, he hugged her and placed his face on her chest. laughing a bit, she hugged him back. “missed you kook” “missed you too sweetheart”

“would you mind if we start it again? i really want to watch it from the start” he said, excitement filled in his voice. she nodded and was about to sit beside him but jungkook’s arm tightened around her waist, not letting her go, and she was more than happy about it. 

jungkook took the control remote and played the first episode. she snuggled into him a little more and he placed a kiss on her cheek. 

time passed, night came, they finished the entire second season and then decided to continue with one piece. 

“do you know there’s a one piece theme park in japan? i really want to go, and also the jujutsu kaizen theme park and the nintendo one too, and then visit tokyo and buy things there” sighed “maybe one day i'll go.”

he listened to her rambling and noticed the sadness in her voice. he knew her financial situation wasn’t good, sometimes she would cancel their plans not wanting him to pay for everything, but he didn’t mind that a bit. he payed for her things because he wanted to, not because he was bound to it, he really loved to pamper her with love and things he knew would make her happy. 

“oh, we have runned out of food, im going to the kitchen to take more snacks”

jungkook stopped the episode and took his phone while she was in the kitchen. her head peeked out from the kitchen door. “we have runned out of snacks, do you want to order food?”

“ok!”

half hour passed and they were both eating and watching the series, enjoying a peaceful summer night with each other. 

___________________________________

the sun was peeking through the curtains as if wanting to catch the lovers in their sleep. jungkook was the first one to wake up, admiring his lover by his side, the curve of her lip, the softness of her cheek, everything that made her being herself was something to admire. slowly, he got up and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. he was making the toasts and the coffee when he felt her arms around his waist. 

“good morning, gorgeous”

“good morning, gguk”

she sat at the kitchen island looking at her boyfriend moving around the kitchen. “anyway, why are you up this early? its barely 8 in the morning”

“we are going to travel”

“oh, travel? where?”

he placed the breakfast on the island “its a surprise”

“yah! it's this about yesterday? are you mad?”

“of course not! why would i be mad with you about that?” he placed a kiss to her forehead. “eat, we have to prepare luggage”

“okay” she said with a singsong voice

they finished their breakfast and went to prepare the luggage. 

_______________________________________________

the clock hit 11 in the morning, everything was ready, the tickets hid from her, everything was a surprise until they reached the airport. all the suitcases were at the front door, all the lights were off, the only thing left was a quick check of the things they needed for the journey.

“sneakers?”

“yes”

“coat?”

“yes”

“jungkook, we have everything, this isn’t necessary.”

“i know, but i don't want you to complain later about not having something”

she rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, even though she didn’t know where they were going to travel, she felt excited and happy about it.  

“okay! let's gooo!”

________________________

the airport was buzzing with people going and coming, airplanes landing and flying. they entered the airport when a call was made through the speakers.

“dear passengers of the airplane 06132013, with destination tokyo, japan, its going to take flight in 10 minutes”

“oh thats our flight lets go, come on”

“wait- what? jungkook wait!” she yelled at him while running behind him, trying to catch him.

“come on!”

“you're too fast! slow down!”

people looked at them while they ran to the door. they arrived sweating and panting, but they were living their best moment right now, but it wasn't until then that it hit her, they were flying to japan, they were going to tokyo, her dream since she was a child was going to come true in that moment, when their feet where on the plain and all because she had by her side the most wonderful person someone could ever met. 

“hey, dont cry bae”

she didn't even knew she was crying “its just that” a sob stopped her from talking “i really love you jungkook, im so glad to have you with me”

he took her by the waist and pressed her to his side, leaving soft and loving kisses to her face, head and neck. 

“lets go sweetheart, japan is waiting for us!”

all rights reserved to ©ggukgoldensoul. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

[ksdarou]

My best friend's mother is my fuck buddy

Words: 2289

Tags : Big tits, Handjob, risky sex

In the quiet, tree-lined streets of our small town, there lived a woman named Yeji. She was a creature of simple beauty, with dark hair that cascaded down her back like a moonlit river and skin that seemed to glow with the warmth of a thousand distant suns. Her eyes, a deep brown, held the kind of secrets that could make a man's heart skip a beat. But Yeji wasn't just any woman; she was the mother of my childhood friend, Minho.

Minho and I had been thick as thieves since we could barely walk, our friendship a pattern of shared scrapes, whispered secrets, and stolen moments of pure, unbridled mischief. Yeji had always been there, a silent sentinel watching over us, her eyes often filled with a knowing smile. As we grew older, her teasing nature grew bolder, yet she remained the epitome of grace and poise, a constant source of both admiration and confusion for me.

One particularly hot summer afternoon, as we lazed in the shade of the large oak in Minho's backyard, Yeji brought us tall glasses of iced tea, the condensation beading up and running down the sides. "Drink up, my little soldiers," she said, her accent thick and playful. As she handed me my glass, her hand lingered just a fraction too long, her thumb grazing the back of my hand. It was innocent enough, but the way she looked at me made my cheeks burn.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hwang," I mumbled, taking a hasty sip to hide my nerves.

"Oh, please," she said, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes. "Call me Yeji." She winked, the gesture sending a shiver down my spine. Little did I know, that small act of familiarity was the opening note of a symphony that would soon engulf me in a world of forbidden desires and unspoken agreements.

The days grew longer, the heat more oppressive, and Yeji's teasing more intense. Her clothes seemed to shrink, revealing more and more of her lithe body. The way she'd bend over to pick up a towel or the way her shirt clung to her when she walked by the pool, leaving wet trails on her skin, had me swallowing hard. I couldn't help but steal glances, my eyes drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Then came the night that changed everything. I was staying over, and after Minho had gone to bed, Yeji and I found ourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. She sat close, our legs brushing together. The air grew thick with tension, and when she leaned over, her breath hot against my ear, she whispered, "Do you know what I want?" My heart hammered in my chest.

Her hand slid up my thigh, her touch featherlight yet firm, until it reached the unmistakable bulge in my shorts. "I've wanted to do this for so long," she murmured, her voice a siren's song. Before I could protest or even process what was happening, she had unzipped my shorts and was stroking me gently, her eyes never leaving mine. I was lost in a sea of sensation, drowning in the warmth of her touch.

The next day, the house was a minefield of anticipation. Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle of a curtain seemed to echo with the promise of what was to come. Yeji had set the rules, and today, she had granted me the privilege of touching her breasts. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, my every move calculated, my every breath shallow.

When the moment finally arrived, she led me to her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind us like a gunshot. She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me. "You can touch them," she said, her voice a smoky whisper. "But only if you're gentle."

My hands trembled as I reached out, the fabric of her shirt cool under my fingertips. As I slid it off her shoulders, revealing her bare skin, she leaned back, offering herself to me. Her breasts were firm, the nipples already pebbled with desire. I cupped them, feeling their weight, my thumbs circling the sensitive peaks. She sighed, the sound a sweet symphony in the stillness of the room.

Yet, as my thumbs brushed over her nipples, I felt a strange mix of guilt and exhilaration. This was my best friend's mother, and here I was, exploring her body as if it was a treasure map leading to uncharted territories. But the way she arched her back, the soft moans she couldn't hold back, they were an undeniable invitation to delve deeper into this secret world we had unlocked together.

The final day, my birthday, dawned with a sense of excitement tinged with a hint of apprehension. Yeji had promised that tonight, she would allow me to take her fully. The thought made my head spin, my pulse race, my heart thump in my chest like a drum. It was a gift I never dared hope for, one that seemed too good to be true.

That evening, as we sat at the dinner table, Yeji's eyes never left mine, a silent promise passing between us. Minho was oblivious, chattering away about his school day, the innocence of his words a stark contrast to the heated thoughts racing through my mind. When he finally excused himself to go to bed, Yeji's gaze grew more intense, a silent countdown to the moment we had both been waiting for.

As I approached her room, I heard the faint sound of jazz drifting through the hallway. I knocked softly, and she called for me to enter. The room was bathed in a soft, warm light, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Yeji lay on the bed, wearing nothing but a sultry smile.

"You've been such a good boy," she purred, her voice a seductive whisper. "Now it's time for your reward."

Her legs parted, revealing the slick folds of her sex, glistening in the soft glow. I knew what she expected, what she wanted, but as

 I approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. Yet, the allure of her was too great, and I found myself kneeling before her, my hands trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

I leaned in, my tongue tentative at first, tracing the delicate line of her outer labia before venturing further. She tasted sweet and salty, a cocktail of arousal that made my own need throb in response. Yeji's thighs quivered, and she let out a soft gasp as I found her clit, flicking it gently before taking it into my mouth. The sounds of her pleasure grew louder, urging me on, until she was bucking against me, her hands in my hair, guiding me as I pleasured her.

The tension grew, the room thick with it, until she was panting and begging for more. I stood, my erection painfully obvious, and she took me in her hand, stroking me with the same expertise she had shown the day before. Then, with a mischievous smile, she turned over, presenting her ass to me. "Take me," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "But remember, only outside."

I positioned myself behind her, my cock nudging at her entrance, and she was wet, so wet that she took me in with ease. I began to thrust, slow at first, savoring the feel of her tightness, her heat enveloping me like a glove. She was tight around me, and each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me ache for release.

The rhythm grew more urgent, our bodies moving together in a silent dance of lust. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure building in my balls, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I reached around, my hand finding her clit again, and I rubbed it in time with my thrusts. Her breathing grew ragged, and she began to moan louder, her body taut with the approaching climax.

As she came, her muscles clamping down on me, I could hold back no longer. I pulled out, and with a few more strokes, I painted her ass with ropes of hot semen. The release was unlike anything I had ever experienced, a crescendo of pleasure that left me breathless and dizzy. Yeji collapsed onto the bed, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

We lay there, panting and sticky, the room filled with the sound of our harsh breathing. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated carnality, a secret we would share forever. Our friendship had been forever altered, the invisible line between us erased in a whirlwind of passion.

In the days that followed, our encounters grew more frequent, more intense. Yeji became insatiable, her appetite for our secret rendezvous an addiction that I found myself eagerly feeding. Each time was different, each time a new exploration of her body, a new revelation of her desires. And through it all, she remained the same warm, caring woman I had known since childhood, her smile never dimming, her teasing never ceasing.

Yet, the weight of our secret grew heavier with each passing day. The fear of being caught, the guilt of betraying my friend's trust, it was a burden that I carried with me, a constant reminder of the fine line we were treading. But as Yeji's nails dug into my back, her voice crying out my name in the throes of passion, I knew I was in too deep to turn back now. This was a path that, once chosen, could only lead to a future fraught with both ecstasy and despair.

One afternoon, as the sun blazed outside and the house was still, Yeji and I found ourselves locked in a passionate embrace on the couch. Her skirt was hiked up, and I was buried deep inside her, our hips moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrored our racing hearts. We were lost in the moment, our breaths mingling in a silent symphony of lust.

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, and we froze. "Mom, I'm home!" Minho's voice echoed through the house, shattering the illusion of our clandestine world. Panic flooded me as I hastily pulled out, tucking my shirt back into my pants. Yeji, ever the composed woman, straightened her clothes with a practiced ease, her eyes never leaving mine as she whispered, "Don't worry, I'll handle this."

We waited, the air thick with unspoken tension, as Minho's footsteps grew closer. When he entered the room, he looked at us with a puzzled expression before shrugging it off and tossing his backpack on the floor. "You guys okay?" he asked, his gaze bouncing between us. Yeji's laugh was light, airy, the picture of nonchalance. "We're just catching up on some TV," she said, her voice as smooth as silk.

Minho nodded, oblivious to the storm raging just beneath the surface of our calm facades. He grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and we resumed our positions, the tension in the room palpable. Yeji's hand found mine under the couch, and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, a silent promise that she had this under control.

As the days turned into weeks, the guilt grew more pronounced, a constant whisper in my ear. I found myself torn between the friendship that had shaped me and the woman who had come to dominate my thoughts. Yet, when she'd look at me, her eyes filled with a hunger that I couldn't ignore, all rational thought would evaporate, leaving only the primal need to satisfy her.

The culmination of our secret affair came one rainy night when Minho was out with his friends. Yeji and I had the house to ourselves, and the air was charged with electricity. She led me to her bed, her movements deliberate and seductive. "Tonight, my love," she murmured, "you can come inside me."

Her words sent a thrill through me, a mix of excitement and terror. This was it, the ultimate act of betrayal, and I knew there would be no turning back. Yet, as she straddled me, her eyes filled with love and lust, I couldn't resist the siren's call. We moved together, our bodies in perfect harmony, as the rain pattered against the window, providing a rhythmic soundtrack to our illicit passion.

When I finally released inside her, it was as if a dam had broken, flooding me with a mix of relief and dread. Yeji's eyes closed in bliss, her body shuddering with pleasure. But as she collapsed onto my chest, her breath hot against my skin, I couldn't help but wonder what price we would pay for this moment of pure, unbridled desire.

Our secret remained safe, hidden beneath the veneer of our everyday lives. But every time I looked at Minho, every time I heard his laugh, I felt the weight of our transgression pressing down on me. Yeji was careful, always the model mother, her smiles and teasing glances reserved for when we were alone. Yet, the tension grew, a tightrope we danced on, each step more precarious than the last.

And so, we continued, locked in our secret world of pleasure and pain. Each day brought a new challenge, each night a new temptation. The guilt was a constant companion, but the allure of Yeji's touch was stronger. I knew it couldn't last, that eventually, our house of cards would crumble. But for now, we reveled in the sweet, forbidden fruit of our love, each moment stolen, each touch a silent declaration of a bond that defied all boundaries.

[tinythebunni]

blurb for simon and his socially unaware princess who makes him pass out in her cunt every night. for @goodsoup19

DUBCON WARNING: reader drugs simon with sleeping pills and he wakes up handcuffed to the bed. he gave consent prior for her to use him whenever she wanted!! DUBCON WARNING. I REPEAT DUBCON WARNING!!

🩷🧁🫧🎀

It’s not like simon’s never had sex before. I mean he’s a man so of course he has needs. And lord knows he gets what he wants when he wants it. He hasn’t had sex in a bit, due to deployment and the physical therapy in between those. But this? it feels like he’s back in his 17 year old body getting head behind the market.

You took control of him. he was still the one with the upper hand, and he was definitely the dominant one, but it seemed like now you were taking what you wanted. using him for your personal gain. making him your own sex toy, your person dildo. the thought made his cock throb and his tip leak inside of you. The way you’re bouncing on his cock, slipping almost all the way off before forcing it back in had his resolve slipping away ever second.

With his hands cuffed behind him, you slowly started to regret his comment. “can’t keep yer fookin hands off me, can ya bun? desperate little thing.” he could see the fire in your eyes in that moment. and he should’ve known how this would end up.

For him being such a suspicious military man and all, he sure sucked at knowing when a pretty girl was drugging him. God, Price would chew him up and shit him out if he ever found out about this.

Simon is pulled out of his thoughts as your hand slips around his throat to squeeze the sides of his throat, slowing blood flow to his brain. the loss of oxygen making him harder and whinier. it’s everything he’s needed and gosh it’s so good.

You glance down to see tears slipping out the corner of his eyes, arching your back to lean down to lick them off his cheeks, leaving a flush of crimson on his face. he can’t help the way the blush flows down his body, and the musky sweat that starts at behind his knee caps.

you stay like that, tits pressed to his chest as you pick your hips up and down. sliding your arms under his back, right by the cuffs. you cage him in, legs locking in place to keep him inside of you. he fights the urge to cum but he can’t move!

“wait wait! b-bird you gotta ngh fuck fuck you gotta let me up!! m gonna cum in ya please please hold on!! can’t can’t ‘old it.”

He’s scared and it’s evident in his eyes. he’d love to cum in you but he knows you’ve never let him before, scared for your boundaries. he can’t hold it and he doesn’t know if you know that, too stuck in that familiar sexed up haze. but you are aware of what’s happening, almost too much. this is exactly what you want. his cum inside your belly,that warm feeling you keep hearing about. and Simon cums a lot, almost a fountain. it shoots everywhere when u give him a hand job and you want him to cum in you, right now. and simon always does as you say.

you feel him shoot milky ropes inside of you, probably nudging your cervix now. but you don’t stop. not even when he’s wailing right by your ear.

“bun, bun!! baby!!!, p-please… please just… j-just ohh! Ah, fuck, oh fuck oh fuck ! Oh, God, please! Please! too much too much!” you’re ignoring his babbling, not caring about his needs know, only wanting yours.

“aw the big bad military man can’t take it? too overstimulated?” you soothe, faux sympathy dripping with every word, but he’s too fucked out to know that. blissfully unaware, too pussydrunk. what a fucking man.

“yes baby p-please, fuck fuck bun... you you... ya gotta stop... please, c-can't... can't take it... too fucking warm too tight... y-you're killing me... shit shit, please! please, just just gimme a moment g-gimme a moment, need a minute, a a second even, please! you're holding me too tight... like a fucking cage!! needa... f-fuck, shit shit shit! there's so much... so much fucking cum... it’s your fault, fuck, please!!”

[obsessedwithceleste]

bloodonmyhands

(ex)Mattheo Riddle x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ p in v, degradation

word count: 528

A moan escapes your lips as Mattheo slams back into you, fingers digging into your hips, keeping you in place as your back arches in response to his wild thrusts.

“What’s the matter love? Haven’t had a proper fuck since you left me for Potter? Golden boy can’t satisfy you?” Mattheo hisses into your ear, hands now exploring every inch of your body that he already knew so well.

Every touch and brush of his finger tips was like an electric shock on your skin. The ache and anticipation building rapidly with each brutal caress.

“Didn’t leave you, you- told me to go,” you stammer out as the boy continues to pound into your soaking cunt mercilessly.

“Yet here you are, little whore came right back to my cock didn’t you?” Mattheo’s fingers find your sensitive clit, giving it a flick as you let out another moan. “Didn’t you?” He asks again, pulling his throbbing cock out and looking down at the mess he’d made of you.

It was hard to imagine there had been a point where the boy looming over you had begged for your time.

“Yes,” you breathe out, barely able to catch your breath before he’s slamming back into you at a relentless pace, admiring the bulge in your lower abdomen.

“Good girl, you wanted this didn’t you? I saw the way you were out there dancing with Potter,” he sneers, but you can barely register the words coming out of Mattheo’s mouth as the ridges of his cock scrape your walls. “Half drunk, and in that stupid little skirt. Killing me doll.”

You’d known of course, that Mattheo would be here tonight. Maybe a sick part of you had hoped he would see you walking in with Harry. His sworn enemy. Perhaps that’s why you had danced all night like you couldn’t be bothered, pretending you couldn’t feel Mattheo’s eyes boring into you all evening. Just determined to show your ex you had moved on.

“Look at me, when I fuck you,” Mattheo grunts, taking your face in his hand, forcing you to look up into his crazed, starving eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, you watch in a haze as he slowly leans down, taking one of your bare nipples in his mouth, teeth dragging across the soft flesh.

The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself tightening around the boy as he bites down on the sensitive flesh. You feel the familiar wave of euphoria wash over you, eyes rolling back into your head as the breathe is knocked out of you; but that doesn’t stop the boy above you.

“Matty, please,” you try to protest, raising your hands to his chest as he continues his ruthless thrusts, keeping you carefully wavering over the line between pleasure and pain.

Your words fall on deaf ears as Mattheo’s hands find their way to your knees, spreading your legs further and allowing him deeper into your core.

"You fucking thought we were over," he growls over the sound of warm skin slapping together as he pounds your juices back into you. Mattheo shakes his head.

“You can be done when I say you’re done.”

[muqingslover]

hiii, can you please share more goofy habits caleb has while sharing a bed with u 💝

[ By popular demand i'm here to share extra thoughts on Caleb's sleeping habits! Kinda of a part two to this, in case you missed! ]

-----------------------------⁠✿⁠⁠✿⁠⁠✿⁠--------------------------

Oh boy there's so much to unpack here. We all know Caleb has experienced a loooot of bad things and has not worked through them in an actual healthy way at all. He is also a master at hiding it from you, but you can get a glimpse of how damaged he truly is during bedtime.

First of all, you will rarely, if ever, catch him sleeping on an actual bed. Or sleeping at all to be honest. What Caleb does is take power naps whenever he can on his couch at the office or when he's at your place waiting for you to. The one to (partially) blame for this is his chronic insomnia. I like to believe Caleb has always been a very light sleeper and it's only gotten worse throughout the years— The sound of a door opening is enough for him to be wide wake in a matter of seconds. Trust issues anyone?

When he wakes up, if alone, his go-to activity is working out. He'll do push-ups or leave the house for a loooong late night jog, anything that will tire his body out since he's wired up. Then, he takes a freezing cold shower to reboot his system and either starts to work early or sits down to solve some calculus problems to prevent his mind from thinking about anything else since it's 98% of the time never anything good.

To add to that, the main reason as to why his insomnia is so bad is the fact he has nightmares on an almost daily basis. They're often about you in some way and he wakes up panicking about where you are, how you are, if you're with someone else, why you aren't here with him instead and if you plan on leaving him. That's why it's so crucial for Caleb that you stay somewhere he can see you whenever he needs to. Otherwise, his anxiety will gnaw at him until he just shows up unprompted on your front door in the middle of the night.

On the topic of nightmares, next thing on the list is a more...sensitive one: His reactions to nightmares that involves the abuse Caleb himself went through. I say sensitive because this man is a trained soldier and he wakes up in very high alert which, sometimes, means he might hurt you by pure reflex similar to retired war veterans.

The first time you woke up with his hands tightly wrapped around your neck you seriously thought you were a goner. The sound of your voice calling his name was fortunately enough to make him snap out of the haze he was trapped in, believing he was under the threat of the ghosts of his past and had to defend himself before it was him the one who would end up dead. You have always been his anchor, it was not a surprise that you were the only one able to pull him back even in a moment like this.

Regardless if he had been in control or not, Caleb would blame himself until his last day on this world. He wouldn't sleep (Key word being sleep because he will stay in bed with you, he just won't *sleep*) on the same bed as you anymore after this and instead spends his nights on a mattress on the floor next to you. The sight of your bruised neck and the tears in your eyes because of his hands, because of him, only serve as fuel for his nightmares. He doesn't even want to imagine what would've happened if you hadn't been able to speak loudly enough to wake him up.

"Caleb is a big spoon!!" people yell at me and I agree! However! If you want this man to have some peaceful sleep then the only way to achieve that is to have him laying on your chest where he can both listen to your steady heartbeat and feel your warmth as he holds you. Run your fingers through his hair and promise him you'll be right there when he wakes up to soothe his anxieties as much as possible and he might just sleep throughout the entire night.

Moving on to more sweet thoughts so we don't end on a bitter note— He has serious beef with the plushies you own, specifically the ones you hug to sleep. I mean, he's right here? Hello??? Why would you want to hug that fat ass bear of yours. If your plushie goes missing one day through suspicious means don't be sad because you can just cuddle him! He promises he'll behave this time!

Another silly thing is Caleb cannot keep his hands to himself when the two of you are sharing a bed. Literally. His hands have a will of their own and they must be touching you at all times in some way. That also means he will bother you by torturing tickling you non-stop until you're on the verge of tears. He loves the sound of your joyful laughter and how red your face gets while you try to escape the evil tickle monster so I'm afraid there's no way to get him to actually stop.

[be-xkyy]

Hiii! Could you do another yan platonic son imagine pls

𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐 𝑌𝑎𝑛! 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑆𝑜𝑛

Warning: platonic yandere, possessive, jealous, crying, a little cute?, mentions of childbirth, newborn baby, pregnancy symptoms, this is PLATONIC.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Part 1

Yan! Little Son who's become the most clingy to you since he found out about your pregnancy and his new future "little brother" or "little sister."

Yan! Little Son who is always hugging you and kissing your cheeks and telling you how much he loves you soooo much and a bright smile appears on his little face when you tell him you love him back.

Yan! Little Son who always cries and hugs you worriedly when you feel dizzy or vomit because of pregnancy symptoms, his little hands grab your shirt and he looks at you with big tearful eyes.

"Are you going to die, Mommy?! Please don't die!"

"Oh... I'm not going to die my dear, it's just your little brother or little sister being a little fussy with Mommy."

"Why does he do that?! He makes you sick and cry! Tell him to stop!"

Yan! Little Son who tries to help you as much as he can as your belly gets bigger; he brings you juice when you're thirsty, takes the remote from his dad so you can watch TV, and brings you ice cream from the fridge to eat while you watch TV (he ends up eating more than you).

Yan! Little Son who rests his little head against your swollen belly, giving you kisses on your belly (he clarifies that they are for you and not for the baby) while you play with his hair, twirling the strands in your fingers.

Yan! Little Son who, at night when you and his father are asleep, takes the opportunity to talk to the baby; he rests his mouth on your belly, covered by your silk pajama, and speaks in a low murmur so as not to wake you.

"Listen kid, you don't like me and I don't like you, okay? But I promise to tolerate you a little if you stop making mommy sick and if you let her sleep, she's really tired, you know? Oh! Also, stop making her eat ice cream with pickles! It's disgusting"

Yan! Little Son who gets upset when your third trimester approaches and you start preparing your things and the baby's things to take to the hospital, he insists on wanting to go with you to the hospital and pouts when you tell him he can't go with you.

Yan! Little Son who gets excited when his paternal grandmother comes to live at the house (to take care of him when you have to go to the hospital) he eats cookies, watches her knit and enjoys the pampering and gifts she brings him.

Yan! Little Son who wakes up one night when you breathe heavily, inhaling and exhaling forcefully you let out a scream of pain that makes he shouts worriedly at his father, pulling his hair hard, respecting him with a jump.

Yan! Little Son who moves worriedly on the verge of tears when you let out whimpers of pain and his father comforts you before shouting to the grandmother who comes to the room and when she sees the situation she takes him away despite his screams and struggles.

"No! Let me go, Nana! I want to go to my mommy!!! She needs me! Moooommy!"

Yan! Little Son who remains upset and cannot sleep despite his grandmother trying to lull him to sleep, he sobs almost the entire night until he inevitably falls asleep from exhaustion, the next morning his grandmother wakes him up, bathes him and dresses him with a smile telling him that she is going to the hospital to meet his little brother.

Yan! Little Son who when he arrives at the hospital holding his grandmother's hand, impatiently leads her to the reception asking for you and when they give him the room number, he pulls his grandmother telling her to hurry.

Yan! Little Son who when he arrives to your room does not hesitate to take his grandmother's hand and push the door, quickly entering the room, you are lying in bed with his father sitting next to you while you hold a bundle in your arms, he approaches timidly when you call him.

Yan! Little Son who lets his father lift him up and sit him on his lap while you tell him to bend down to see his new little brother, he slowly obeys his eyes scanning the red baby who is vigorously breastfeeding at your breast.

"He's very ugly, he looks like a hairless rat. I don't like him."

"Oh! My son, don't say that about your little brother!"

"You were just as ugly, or I think even uglier than him, when you were born, son. 👀"

"It wasn't! Mommy, tell Dad something!"

Yan! Little Son who starts arguing with his father until you calm them both down and ask him if he wants to hold his brother; he reluctantly agrees, and you take the baby away from your chest and place the tiny bundle in his tiny arms. He looks down at the baby, who smiles happily at him.

"Why are you smiling..? Uhm... maybe it's not so bad to have you around, but be good to mom or we'll give you to another family... okay?"

[kathaelipwse]

You Can Take It, Right? | S.Mingi

MDNI 18+

Song recs: Friends by Chase Atlantic | Take you down by Chris Brown | Say my name by ateez | Red lights by Skz |

Warnings: Heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, mutual pining, teasing, best-friends-to-lovers energy, Mingi being a menace, mild language, hot & messy make-out session.

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Friends Who Flirt Too Much, Slow Burn with a Payoff

WC: 781 words

Synopsis:

What starts as harmless teasing turns into something far more dangerous when Mingi decides he’s done playing around. Trapped between him and the couch, you’re forced to answer the question—will you push him away or pull him closer?

Author’s Note:

I had way too much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy Mingi being an absolute menace with that dirty mouth of his. The tension? Thick. The teasing? Dangerous. And that payoff? Worth the wait. LMK if you want a part two! 😉

You should’ve known better than to challenge Song Mingi.

It started off the way it always did—banter, teasing, stolen glances that lasted too long to be friendly. You were used to pushing each other’s buttons, toeing the line but never quite stepping over it. Until tonight.

It was just the two of you, sprawled out on his couch after a movie, the soft glow of the screen flickering over his face. The teasing had started when he caught you staring.

"Like what you see?" he’d smirked, stretching his arms over his head, his hoodie riding up just enough to show a glimpse of his toned stomach.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. "Please. You’re all talk."

That was the mistake.

Because the second those words left your mouth, Mingi shifted—his lazy smirk sharpening into something darker, something unreadable.

"All talk, huh?" His voice was lower now, dipping into that deep, husky register that made your stomach tighten.

Before you could react, he moved—one arm bracing against the back of the couch, the other pressing into the cushion beside your hip, caging you in effortlessly.

The air changed.

Mingi wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes dragged over your face, slow and deliberate, lingering on the way your lips parted, your breath suddenly uneven.

"You can take it, right?" he murmured, and fuck. The way he said it—like a challenge, like a promise—sent a shiver straight through you.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mingi—"

He hummed, dipping his head until his lips hovered just above your ear. His breath was warm against your skin, his voice a deep rasp that made your stomach flip.

"Look at you," he mused. "All quiet now. Wasn’t so cocky a second ago."

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to squirm. "Shut up."

Mingi chuckled, the sound low and smug. "Make me."

Your breath caught.

He was still so close, his body heat sinking into you, his scent—clean, warm, Mingi—wrapping around you like a trap. But it wasn’t just his presence. It was his voice—the way he was dragging this out, letting his words settle over your skin, heavy and thick.

"If I touched you right now," he murmured, his lips just barely grazing your jaw, "would you push me away… or pull me closer?"

You should’ve pushed him away.

You should’ve.

But instead, your fingers twitched, itching to grab the front of his hoodie and pull. And Mingi saw. His smirk widened, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he let out a low chuckle.

"That’s what I thought."

Your patience snapped.

With one sharp tug, you fisted his hoodie and yanked him down.

Mingi barely had time to react before your lips crashed into his. And for a second, he froze—like he hadn’t actually expected you to cross the line first. But then he moved.

A groan rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back, deep and hungry, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. The shift sent you sprawling back onto the couch, Mingi following without hesitation, pressing you into the cushions as his weight settled over you.

His mouth was hot, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to brush against yours, slow and teasing. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you pinned beneath him, his body pressing into yours like he needed to be closer.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, breathless. "You taste better than I imagined."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. "You imagined this?"

Mingi grinned against your mouth, his teeth grazing your lower lip before sucking it between his teeth, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Baby, you have no idea."

The way he said it—low, rough, possessive—sent a full-body shiver through you.

And then he was everywhere. His lips trailed along your jaw, down the column of your neck, each kiss punctuated by a hushed whisper, a dirty little confession. "Been thinking about this for so long." A slow, open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. "The way you look at me? Drives me insane." His teeth scraped against your skin, making your fingers tighten in his hair.

"Mingi—"

He groaned, his hands tightening around your hips as he rocked against you, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale. "Say my name like that again, and I swear I won’t stop at just kissing you."

Heat flooded through you.

But before you could respond, his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

The sudden noise snapped you both back to reality, your heaving breaths the only sound filling the room. Mingi didn’t move right away—his forehead still resting against yours, his fingers still gripping your hips like he was this close to saying screw it and going all the way.

You let out a shaky laugh. "Guess we got a little carried away."

Mingi groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. "Worst timing ever."

You nudged him playfully. "You gonna check that?"

"Absolutely not."

You giggled, finally pushing at his chest until he let you sit up. But when you looked at him, his dark, hooded eyes were still locked on you, his lips kiss-swollen, his breathing uneven.

"This isn’t over," he murmured, tilting your chin up with his fingers.

You swallowed hard. "No?"

His smirk returned, slow and dangerous. "Oh, baby… I’ve barely even started."

---

[ssweetreveries]

friends | l.hc

🎧 friends . chase atlantic

✩ haechan x reader

• 18+ mdni!

• word count! 2.7k

oneshot, nonidol!haechan, afab!reader, bsf!haechan, softdom!haechan, sub!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, cumming inside, begging, haechan is a bit desperate, friends to lovers, they’re both a bit stupid, love confessions, lots of kissing, smut, fluff, use of petnames (baby)

synopsis . seeing your disappointment from yet another failed date, haechan swears he can do better than any of those other guys you’ve been going out with.

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

i apologize if there's any mistakes, this isn't proof read and english isn't my first language. please bare with me!! enjoy! ><

You arrive at his house for your usual hangout and plop down next to him on the couch, making yourself comfortable. He takes the time to silently appreciate your appearance before speaking up. “So, how was your date?” he asks, unable to contain his curiosity.

You shrug. “Hmm? It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“He was nice, i guess, not really my type.”

“I see..” Haechan can’t help but feel a flicker of satisfaction knowing you wouldn’t be seeing that guy again. “Something happened or..?”

“It’s not something that happened, he just has too many girls on his roster. Yeah, okay, he’s good in bed and he’s attractive, but..”

“Sounds like he’s a player,” he comments.

“Yeah, basically.”

Haechan hums, “You deserve better.”

“I know..”

“You knew he was like that and still slept with him?” he interrogates.

You shrug, “Mhm, gotta keep my love life interesting. Wanted to see what the hype was about.”

Haechan shakes his head with an exasperated laugh, “Of course you did.”

“Hey- What’s that supposed to mean!”

“You’re so impulsive sometimes.”

“C’mon Hyuck, can you really blame me, a single woman, for wanting the touch of a man?” you say, half dramatically.

His jaw clenches for a moment, and he has to hold himself back from confessing something he’d regret. “I guess not.” he reluctantly agrees.

He shifts closer to you, facing you to meet your eyes. “But, seriously, aren’t you getting tired of that kind of thing?—Don’t you want something more meaningful?” he asks a bit more serious.

You hum, “That’s kind of hard to find these days.”

“I guess that’s true..”

A comfortable silence settles between you too before Haechan speaks up again. “I could give you the touch of a man, you know. And more.” He suddenly says.

You laugh it off, taking it for another one of his usual jokes but when you meet his eyes there’s no sight of his cheeky grin.

“W-wait, Hyuck? You’re not joking.” You observe.

He remains silent.

“What- What did you say..?” you ask again.

He takes a deep breath, as if grounding himself and finding the words. “I said, I can give you the touch of a man, and much more.” he repeats.

“Fuck, I like you, okay? And I don’t know if you’re just too damn oblivious to notice or pretending you don’t know on purpose, but i’ve dropped countless of hints (Y/N). I don’t want you to go on dates with those shitty men anymore, can’t you see me?” He pauses for a moment, his heart racing as he confesses his feelings. “Fuck ‘like’, i’m in love with you even. Just give me a chance. One chance to prove i’m worth it.”

“Please,” he adds.

Your eyes widen at your best friend’s revelation. Unsure of what to say, “H-hyuck..” you manage out in a hushed tone.

“Please say something,” He urges, wanting to know if he’s completely ruined your friendship.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you whisper under your breath.

He tries to hide his dissapointment, but it’s evident. He looks away, unable to maintain eye contact with you any longer. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything.” he mutters.

He pulls back, creating a bit of distance between you two.

“N-no, wait, hyuck-” You reach out for his hand, stopping him from moving any further.

He tenses up at your touch but meets your eyes with his own, waiting for you to continue.

“That’s not what i meant..” you say quietly.

He frowns, not quite understanding what you mean by that. “Then what did you mean?” He asks hesitantly, holding to that last thread of hope and silently praying that he didn’t entirely ruin everything.

You’re not sure how to express your feelings so you ask him one simple thing, “do you trust me?’

He pauses for a moment before meeting your eyes and answering,

“With my life.”

You soften a bit at his words and coo, “Close your eyes.”

He listens, closing his eyes at your request.

You lean in, hovering over him, and he can feel your warm breath on his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now,” you whisper above him before pressing your lips to his.

He’s surprised at your boldness but immediately relaxes and gets lost in the feeling of your lips on his. His hand flies up to the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he kisses you back.

The kiss starts off soft and tentative before gradually growing more desperate. His body presses against yours, wanting to close any gaps between you, needing to feel your body on his. He starts to move his lips more urgently against yours, unable to get enough of you. When you pull back for air, he lets out a low whine, already missing the contact.

He leans his forehead against yours, panting softly. He opens his eyes and looks at you—a mixture of lust, affection, and disbelief.

“Say you feel the same,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. His hand still playing with the hair at the back of your neck.

You peck his lips and assure him, “I do,”

“Then why-,” he starts, his mind going back to the guys you’ve hooked up with.

You cut him off, deciding to tell him the truth. “I- I was trying to ignore my feelings for you..” You say, and it sounds stupid now, but you continue anyways.

“You’re my bestfriend hyuck. I didn’t want to ruin that..”

“You..” he looks at you for a few moments before scoffing softly.

“You idiot..” He mutters, a hint of fondness in his voice. He tugs you towards him, pulling you in his lap so you’re straddling him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, his fingers brushing against the skin of your lower back exposed by your shirt. He looks at you silently, drinking in every small detail of your face as he thinks to himself how stupid the two of you are for not confessing sooner.

You look down at him, gently threading your fingers through his hair as you look at each other in silence.

He closes his eyes at your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I can’t believe this is real” he whisper, burying his face in your neck, nuzzling your skin and inhaling your scent.

You hum and Haechan starts pressing lazy, wet kisses to the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone.

You tilt your head, giving him more access as he continues nibbling at your skin.

“I don’t want you to go to those guys,” he mutters against your skin.

“I can treat you so much better, make you feel so much better,” He continues, pulling back briefly to meet your eyes.

“Say your mine,” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“I’ll show you how much better I am, just say your mine, please.” He whispers, his lips brushing your earlobe as he speaks.

“I’m yours, hyuck,” you whisper, a bit breathless.

And that’s all he needs before his mouth is back on yours. His lips capturing yours in a deep and possessive kiss. His tongue brushing against your bottom lip, wanting to taste you completely.

You part your lips for him, and he wastes no time delving in, tongue playing with yours as he desperately explores every inch of your mouth.

You let out a small moan in the kiss and that only seems to spur him on, his hands slipping up your shirt in no time.

You shivers at his touch, his cold fingertips a contrast to your warm skin.

His hands run up and down your sides, eventually sliding down to the backside of your pants, resting on your bottom.

He pulls back, and a soft whine escapes your lips at the loss of contact.

His hands massage your ass as he speaks, “I want you,”

“I want you so bad,” he whispers, his lips attaching to your neck once more.

“You have me hyuck-,” you whisper back, breathlessly.

“The problem is..” he starts, his voice now holding a huskier tone, “Once I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

You whine and nod, “I want you too, hyuck, please,”

Hearing you say that, the neediness in your voice.. It’s all he needs to hear for the cord within him to snap. Your small plea breaking the last of his restraints, and within moments you’re flipped onto your back, Haechan hovering above you.

His lips find yours again before leaving a trail down your jaw, to your chest. He tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Can i take this off?”

You nod and he pulls it off you, throwing it on the floor and immediately going to kiss you through the thin fabric of your bra.

As much as you think it’s sweet that he’s taking his time, you need more.

You tug on his hair, earning a groan from him as he reluctantly pulls away to look up at you.

“I need you,” You whine,

His lips quirk into a smirk, “Need me, huh?”

You whine and nod. His hand travels down to your stomach, coming to rest on your lower half, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants.

His hand dips into your pants, softly rubbing circles on your hip bone. And you let out another desperate whine, just wanting him to touch you where you really need him.

He lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head, “You’re just so impatient, hmm?”

“Please-“

He hums and pulls away briefly, tapping your thigh, “up.”

You lift your hips and he tugs your pants down, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments.

He licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your damp panties, His hand travels down to your heat, cupping it as he leans back down to kiss you.

You arch into his touch, aching for more.

He smiles against your lips and his hand dips into your panties, fingers running down your folds and collecting your juices.

He takes his hand away and you whine at the loss, only to be followed by a moan at the sight of Haechan tasting his digits.

He lets a moan of his own, “Fuck.. you taste so good baby, could get addicted to this. To you.”

A soft noise escape your lips at his words, and his hand goes back to your heat. Fingers collecting your arousal, before gently rubbing circle at your entrance. “So wet…” he comments before entering a finger.

You moan and arch into him. “m-more, hyuck, please-,”

He adds another finger, the pad of his thumb coming to rub circles on your clit. The added stimulation causing you to moan in delight.

Your moans only spur him on, and he pumps his fingers faster, making sure to keep that delicious pressure on your clit at the same time.

You can feel yourself getting close and your hips buck against his hand as you feel yourself nearing your release. “Mmhhh- Hyuck, don’t stop, don’t stop-!”

And he listens, his lips attaching to your neck as he keeps fucking you full of his fingers, determined to get you there.

He feels you clenching, indicating that you’re close, and he pulls away from your neck, wanting to see your expression as you come undone on his fingers.

With a particular curl of his fingers, your orgasm reaches you with a breathless gasp. And god, what a sight to see, he thinks.

Your hazy eyes, parted lips, flushed skin.. God, everything about you. He wanted to coax that expression out of you over and over again.

He leans down to press his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. “You’re so pretty..”

You kiss him back, tongues dancing together.

He’s over you, body pressed against yours and you can feel his hard on against your thigh.

“Hyuck…” you whisper, hand coming down to feel him through his pants.

He groans at the contact, “baby- don’t.”

He gently takes your wrist and pulls your hand away from him. “If you touch me, I won’t last” He says, in an almost whiny tone.

You let out a whine of your own and tug him back down to feel his lips on yours again. “Hyuck…”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck me, please”

He groans and speaks in a husky tone. “Mm need me that badly?”

He pulls away to discard his pants. Once they’re off, he catches you shamelessly staring at the outline of his cock through his boxers, a smirk appearing on his lips.

He pulls them down and his length comes to stand tall against his stomach. Your pussy clenches at the sight and you can’t help the moan that leaves your lips.

God, he was so pretty, without doubt the perfect size and girth. And, gosh, you couldn’t wait to find out how he’d feel inside.

His hands come down to the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips for him so he can take them off.

He licks his lips at the sight, his fingers coming back to play with your folds. “Fuck, so pretty, baby..”

“I can’t wait anymore, baby, please,”

You wrap your legs around his waist, efficiently tugging him closer, and Haechan takes that as an answer, hand finding his throbbing dick and giving himself a few tugs before lining himself up to your aching core.

He rubs his tip up and down your folds, the mix of your juices and his pre-cum making him glide smoothly. He taps his dick on your clit a few times before pressing his tip to your entrance.

He looks down at you, hand coming to caress your cheek before slowly pushing in.

The both of you moan in unison at the intrusion, his head coming to fall on your shoulder. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he mutters as he fully bottoms out.

“S-so fucking tight-,” He moans out against your neck.

You moan, his cock so deep, it’s just perfectly touching that one spot that makes you see stars.

He pulls his hips back almost completely, before snapping them back to yours with a hard thrust.

He does that a few times before he finds another rhythm, his thrusts starting to pick up speed as he lets out a series of moans near your ear.

He kisses your cheek before pulling away and changing angles. His hands find your legs and push them back a bit, allowing him to reach even deeper.

“Hyuck!” You scream, his length hitting all the right spots at this new angle.

He only responds with a low moan of his own, his hips moving fast, at a relentless pace as he desperately chases his release, trying to coax your own at the same time.

“A-are you close, baby?” He asks through short breaths. “Can’t h-hold back much longer-”

You nod furiously, moans slipping past your lips as he continues abusing your sweet cunt.

You feel yourself getting there, and your pussy clenches around him.

“Fuck!” he groans at the feeling of you sucking him in, your walls clenching around his length, threatening to make him spill right there.

“H-hyuck!” you scream, letting him know you’re close.

“C-can I cum inside, baby, please, please” He whines.

You nod and that’s all he needs to know, he continues desperately fucking himself in your tight walls and within seconds he spills his load deep into you, the feeling of him triggering your own orgasm.

He falls against you as he reaches his high, arms wrapping around you and burying his face into your chest. Your legs are trembling, pussy desperately clinging onto him, milking him whole, causing him to moan into your chest.

When both of your breathing comes back to normal, Haechan gently pulls out before collapsing back against your chest, your hands coming to run through his hair as you both calm down.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder and looks up at you, “You’re mine, okay?” he says, tone a bit softer.

You hum in response.

He shakes his head, pulling back a bit to cup your cheeks. “I mean it, (Y/N).”

“I want you to be my girlfriend, mine to cherish, mine to love.” he says, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

“Then I’m yours, hyuck..” you whisper back.

He smiles and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, “good.”

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