#his cover was so nice too i’m gonna miss him !! :(

[translatemunson]

save the date

top gun pilots x female!reader blurb cw: mentions of a dress. i believe this can be read as any of the daggers, minus nat (i'm writing something special just for our girl); lmk if i forgot anything.

You’ve gotten the ‘save the date’ months ago. The invitation only came through the mail a few weeks back, but it was 100% set in stone: you were attending your best friend’s wedding with your aviator boyfriend as your plus one. What you forgot to take into consideration was deployment.

It was like playing in a casino: you could get lucky and he wouldn’t be called for a mission until the wedding, or he would be god knows where doing whatever mission the Navy had for him, and you’d be missing him during the wedding.

And since you were never the luckiest person in the room, he got deployed. For six weeks. One month before the wedding date. Good luck telling all your friends you didn’t get dumped, it was just that your boyfriend was government property and they needed him overseas doing some good for the country. It was honorable, but still: you wanted to walk around the venue with a pretty aviator by your side.

It didn’t help that his internet access was limited, nor that you were having second thoughts about attending. Well, if not having someone with you was a problem, he told you he could get one of his friends to take care of you — just so other guys wouldn’t take a chance on his hot girlfriend. But it wasn’t just the lack of your boyfriend that was undermining your presence at the wedding.

One week the dress wasn’t good enough. The next one, just before his deployment, you weren’t sure about the tickets and hotel you booked — he said to keep them, even if he wasn’t going anymore, because you could use the extra space on the plane and the bigger bed. Your first email to him, while deployed, was about how nerve wrecked you were feeling now that your bestie asked you to do a speech. A few days later, you went through it with him, and he reassured you were doing amazing. 

“Gosh, this would be so much easier if you were here,” you admitted on your phone call.

“I know, baby. I promise to take you to a fancy event as soon as I’m back so I can have the chance to see you in that pretty dress.” He was trying his best to cheer you up.

But a phone call across the ocean wasn’t enough. You needed him there, with you, saying you look pretty even though your make up is nowhere near as done. Or telling you look like those old Hollywood stars when your hair was still on the hair curlers. Or saying you need to hurry up before it’s too late to get a nice parking spot at the venue. Or checking if you need a drink or something else during the reception.

You looked down at your phone, hitting “send” on another email, with pictures you took from the party. The whole place is covered with flowers and fairy lights hanging from the trees and ceiling, and you miss him so much it hurts more than your high heels.

You gave your speech minutes ago, and had one of your friends filming it for you. It was a nice piece about your best friend, how she was always the one saying you were gonna be married first but hey, look at you, alone at her wedding. Of course you made fun of the lack of a plus one, but it was fine. You brought back a few embarrassing memories, also spilled some tea on the fact that she had a list with the names for all of their babies. And if one of those names was not inspired by yours, you would be seeing her in court.

“Hey, do you wanna grab another drink with me?” Your friend nudged your arm. “I hate seeing you down.”

“Can you call the Navy and file an official complaint for me? I’ll give you his full name and call sign, so then later I can show up to the courtroom and use those as proof.” You threw your cell phone inside your bag. “Sorry, I’ve been under the weather since the news broke.”

“I know, babe, and I don’t blame you.” She gave you a soft smile. “I think a drink might help you. And maybe I can convince that waiter I’ve told you about to sneak a few sweets for us.”

“Just one more drink, then I’m going back to the hotel.”

“You’re no fun, you know? Maybe something good is happening tonight.”

“Unless you have a teletransportation machine here somewhere to bring me my boyfriend, you can’t trap me for another hour with the promise of good booze alone.”

At the bar, you got yourself your favorite drink. It would be better if he was there, his hand on your waist, making comments about the party or asking you the little details about the people there. It would be his first time in your hometown, getting to know the place you were born and raised. You loved San Diego, but a piece of you would always love your hometown.

“I just wished they had decent Wi-Fi at the ship,” you murmured. “I’ve sent like a hundred pics since I’ve arrived, but still no reply. I can’t believe my own boyfriend is going MIA on me.”

“Hey, maybe it’s just bad connection. And based on what you’ve told me, I bet he’s pissed he’s somewhere in the ocean instead of by the side of his gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Please plan a wedding in the next few weeks so I can attend one with him.”

“Why don’t you plan your own wedding?” She turned the idea around.

“And throw a surprise wedding? I’m crazy, but even I have limits.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t take him too many deployments to pop the big question.”

“I might have to ask him to divorce the Navy before we can get married. Sorry, but I won’t be the mistress in this,” you laughed.

Halfway through your drink, your friend ended up going to talk to one of your colleagues from high school, and you went back to your table, staying up and trying to swing your body in the rhythm of the song — just to get your mind off of things.

You checked your phone, one notification from your email’s app. You clicked on it as fast as you could, blowing out in frustration when you saw it was just a marketing email.

You saw someone approaching from your peripheral vision, and you heard “Tough night?”

“Don’t even get me started.” You pushed your face into your hand.

“Try me, honey.”

You turned your face. And, magically, your boyfriend was there. You blinked a few times, not believing he was really sitting next to you, in a suit. You held tight into his arm, and he said “Did she let you have way too many drinks?”

“No. I mean, are you real?”

“Yes, baby, I’m real.”

“How?”

“Finished the mission early, called in for a few favors, got on the first plane here, and asked your friends to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my, you’re really here.” You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. The last time you were this close, it was the morning before his deployment. You always took the days up to the deployment as a chance to spend all the time together. Ok, you had to work, and the house chores wouldn’t magically disappear, but as soon as you were both at home, you’d stick to his side as glue.

“Sorry I missed your speech,” he hugged you back. “I’ll watch the footage later.”

“That’s ok. I’m so happy that you’re here,” you kissed his cheek.

“C’mon, let me take a look at my stunning girlfriend,” he took a step back and, with your hand in his, made you spin on your toes. The flowy dress and high heels were far from your daily clothes. “You look better than in the pictures, honey.”

Your cheeks blushed, and you could bet even the make up wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Thanks.” You took a look at him, finally noticing how good he looked in a normal suit. The color suited him like a glove, and you were considering finding a good excuse to see him wearing it again. You kinda begged him to attend in those pretty white suits the Navy had, but he was always saying those were only for special occasions.

“Should we take a picture?” He rested his hands on your waist.

“Sure!”

Now that you officially had your arm candy with you, it was time to walk around the party introducing your boyfriend to your friends. They were all very friendly and excited to meet him, but also kept the Navy related questions to a minimum. He was all smiles and handsy, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

You got your picture, on the balcony, with the gardens as a background to your affection. Your friend convinced one of the photographers to take a few official pictures — she used the “He’s Navy and flew all the way here to be with her!” card. On the first pic, you were close, side by side, smiling but keeping your hands to yourself.

And then the photographer asked you to look each other in the eyes, and it was like your lips had a magnet of some sorts. He pulled you closer, and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Hold her like that!” the photographer said.

Once you had the pictures taken also on our phone, he took you to the dance floor. A slow song, something your parents would play in the car when you were younger, was telling the steps you were taking. Swaying slowly in the middle of the small crowd, soaking in that moment. You snuggled in closer to his chest, leaving him to lead you. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything before.” He pressed his lips on the side of your head.

“That’s ok. You know I like surprises when they come from you.”

“I know. And I like being with you.” Another kiss on the side of your face. “And I love you.”

You  tilted your head back, connecting your eyes, “I love you too."

[paperwalwal]

parasocial relationship’s hitting a little too hard, why am i so sad

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-�� his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Rafehub.com - Rafe Cameron Plink Library

+18 Minor DNI

Pornstar!Rafe Cameron - P🔗 Library

Welcome to RafeHub.com

This p!link library was made with my lover @rafesthroatbaby

if you love pornstar!Rafe check out the sexy au created by our baby @starkeyisthelastname

The titles were “written by Rafe” to give it a typical porn-esque vibe. The white text is a little backstory 💋

⭐️ Back shots 💦💦💦 🍑Your first video with Rafe

⭐️ stretching u like only i can let me ruin you 4 everyone else

⭐️ i love teasing what’s mine let me play with your pussy while daddy gets you ready for his cock Rafe easing you into it after making you sore from your last shoot

⭐️ Am i too rough? I’m sorry. I’ll take it nice n easy 4 you baby. I’m gonna try to make it all fit i promise. 🤡 cum back for part 2 where i fuck this slut into the mattress

⭐️ two girls one rafe 😈 After a night of partying, you and Rafe bring another actress back to his house to play

⭐️ they love to share me i guess i’ll keep them both

⭐️ Making a mess on the couch. How many times do i make her squirt?? 😜 Rafe’s been stalking your videos since. He didn’t know you could squirt. Now he’s desperate to make you squirt multiple times on camera.

⭐️ Messy girl ❤️‍🔥 gonna need a shower after this shit 🥵

⭐️ Let The Pussy Destroyer satisfy your breeding kink ♥️ The only actress Rafe finishes in unprotected is you. He can’t help but whisper the dirtiest shit in your ear about how he’s gonna end your career because he fucked a baby into you. But what he gets off on the most is how he’ll never have to watch you fuck anyone else again.

⭐️ daddy dicking her ⬇️

⭐️ Let me destroy you - size kink king 🍆 she’s takin this dick like a champ Rafe is clearly obsessed with you and his followers are getting jealous

⭐️ I love using your tight pussy such a perfect fucktoy for me

⭐ What Rafe sends to you after you send him your nudes 📸

⭐️ had to sneak away from her boyfriend to get fucked by daddy. Do you think he’s doin this shit like me?? 😂Shooting with Rafe after he tells you that you can fuck whoever… You mean nothing to him. He didn’t realize how wrong he was ‘til it happened. His jealousy also went into overdrive after he found out that the other actor was an ex of yours. Of course he keeps that shit to himself.

⭐️ you just don’t stop cummin do you?

⭐ mine 📸 Rafe’s petty-ass posting this GIF online and sending it to your ex

⭐️ cum give daddy a hand and stroke me til I’m emptyDenying Rafe pussy because he won’t use his words and tell you how he feels when you can tell he’s annoyed

⭐ covering her with my load

⭐️ atta girl swallow daddy’s dick

⭐️ not gonna lie this chick fucked me look at her creamin on my big dick Fucking Rafe on camera after rumors circulate about him and another mattress actress. He put in an extra effort after getting his feelings hurt and now he regrets it completely

⭐️ she says she hates me… turns out she just needed some good dick

⭐️ she loves gettin slapped and fucked dumb Getting fucked rough after ignoring Rafe’s calls

⭐️ keep screaming for me. You think I’m gonna stop? 😂

⭐️ Babygirl couldn’t wait until the movie ended so i fucked her like the impatient slut she is Rafe invites you over for a movie. When you ask him if it’s a date he brushes you off because he’s too scared to get attached. “Nah, princess. We’re just hanging out. Thought we could relax and shoot some shit when we got bored.”

⭐️ my little anal queen’s so good 💦🍑 clenching and tightening around my dick

⭐️ 🩷My tongue and fingers are magic princess lay back and let daddy Rafe make you feel like a pretty little slut🩷 First video after Rafe finally tells you how he feels

⭐️ Trying new angles while I stretch out that perfect pussy 💯

⭐️ she came 2 play 🥵 little promo 4 you filthy slut. comment below it u want some more ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ You both love money and sex. You don’t want to stop shooting, so you make a couples OnlyFans account instead, putting out a few promos on Twitter

⭐️ 🎀little miss innocent before she met me🎀

⭐️ U got me stroking my shit… can’t stop thinking about you Leaving Rafe for the weekend while you go on vacation with your friends. He’s so pussy whipped you have him playing with himself

⭐ Her 🤍📸 Rafe posting and watching some softer GIFs when you’re gone because he misses his babygirl

⭐️ Had to pull over cause she looked too fuckin good Rafe picking you up from the airport and he couldn’t even wait til you got home

⭐️ she loves that cameron cum 👑 think she’s the one

⭐️ think she likes her new gift ⛓️‍💥😈 Shooting content for your OnlyFans - switching it up with cuffs and masks

⭐️ heard you sluts liked masks

⭐️ look at you all tied up with your legs wide open and your dripping wet pussy throbbing waiting for some cameron cock

⭐️ Be a good girl and cum with Daddy while he plays with your toys 😈

Like, reblog, and comment to show us some love 🤍 @rafesthroatbaby inbox is open for any love you want to send her way as well!!

[oceantornadoo]

ch4 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: some mild dubcon groping but reader is into it she just hates him. (or does she????)

masterlist | next

Your mother doesn’t come to your wedding, understandably so. Her lack of presence makes the day seem less real. However, one Johnny MacTavish decides to become the Scottish mother hen you’ve been missing.

“Everyone decent in ‘ere?” A chorus of yeses ring out. Johnny opens the door to the bridal dressing room with a smile, looking suave in his tuxedo. “Shite, was hopin’ to sneak a look.” He winks at your nearest cousin and she flutters her eyes. Even as a married man, Johnny likes to flirt and fluster women. It helps hide his marriage to Simon and provides you with much entertainment.

“How’s the blushin’ bride?”

He walks over to your vanity, taking in your bridal makeup and hairdo. Johnny whistles low, reaching out to ruffle your hair, which you stop by smacking him. “The bride is hungover and not in the mood.” He shrugs, then takes a sip of your champagne on the vanity desk. “Y’r fault fer doin’ a hen do the night before. Nice job slippin’ the hag, though.” It’s your codename for Aunt Riley. She’s always been suspicious of him and Simon, making little comments here and there that have put her on his shitlist over the years.

“Thanks. I can say, the London nightlife didn’t disappoint. I might throw up at the altar though.” He snorts and takes a seat in the empty chair next to you. “Price was pissed last night. Called Simon while we were mid-” You cover his mouth with your hand. “Don’t finish that sentence. As far as I’m concerned, you guys haven’t even kissed.” Johnny licks your hand, making you squeal. “Can’t believe he called Simon like I’m a little kid and not a grown woman.”

Johnny doesn’t answer, instead popping a chocolate-covered strawberry offered by a passing waitress into his mouth. She’s been the one supplying you with Gatorade until you switched the champagne half an hour ago. Can’t believe the bridal suite has a waitress. John Price is too rich for his own good.

“The Shepherd family’s gettin’ bolder. Can’t blame ‘im fer not wantin’ ya to die before the weddin’. Would be bad publicity.” You scoff. It might be true, but John has never seemed too concerned about your health. Except that night in the park, when- never mind.

“Ya nervous?” Johnny asks. You shake your head. “Trying not to think about it. I’m more focused on not tripping in front of multiple mafia families. I’d never live it down.” He smiles, then squeezes your knee over your white dressing gown. The look he gives you is too knowing and you hate it. Instead of holding his gaze, you turn to the mirror and will any stray tears away. “You probably need to go soon. I think they’re putting me in my dress in a few minutes.” He nods, dark eyes full of understanding.

“Ya look real bonnie, doe. Gonna make a beautiful bride.” You nod, swallowing down the thickness in your throat. “Thanks, Johnny. You look handsome in your pink bowtie.” It’s the same color as the bridesmaid dresses, a horrid shade your aunt insisted on. He winks, then rises out of his chair. Johnny squeezes your shoulder, then kisses the crown of your hair like Tommy used to do. “Simon’ll walk ya down the aisle. I’ll see ya on the other side.” And just like that, he’s gone.

-

“You know you’ve turned my life upside down in only a week, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know a small part of me will always blame you for it?”

“I know.” Simon sighs.

It’s five minutes before the ceremony. You’re all dolled up in your poofy dress with perfect makeup and a bouquet in hand. A phantom weight is heavy on your left finger, waiting for the ring you tried on only a few days ago.

“Ya know I’ll always be sorry yer father is mine.” Simon murmurs. You nod stiffly, swallowing down any emotion as you look at the closed church doors in front of you. The ones that will open in a few minutes, leading your path down the aisle and to your new husband.

“I didn’t have to come back. I could have hung up on you all those years ago.”

“I know.”

“I think a small part of me wishes I had.” You whisper, like a confession. He takes your free hand and wraps it in his own. “But I think a bigger part would do it all over again.” Simon squeezes your interlaced fingers.

“Best thing tha’ ever happened t’ me, ya know that?” Your smile is weak, eyes watery as you catch his gaze. “What about Johnny?” He smiles under the mask. “Tha’s a different category, love.” You laugh, small and hollow. 

This feels like goodbye. You know it’s not, you’ll only be 200 miles away, but you’re both aware of the new boundaries around this marriage. London will be your home now, and any visit to Manchester will have to be approved, and probably accompanied, by John. That’s all it’ll be - a visit. A few days at most, doing the rounds and seeing friends and family. You’ll never live there again, never run your bookshop, never chat with regulars, never- you stop that line of thinking before you ruin your makeup.

“If he hurts ya, you call me.” You nod, but that’s not enough for Simon. A gloved hand tips your chin in his direction, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’ll call me. An’ Johnny if I don’t answer.” You nod again, firmly, which finally satisfies Simon.

“C’mere.” You hug your big brother with all your might. He’s careful, turning your face to the side so you don’t ruin your makeup. His hands tighten around your shoulders while yours can barely wrap around his torso. He’s always wearing suits but this one feels different, more structured and finely woven.

“Simon, are you wearing designer?” He stiffens, pushing you off him as you start laughing. “‘M alway wearin’ designer, comes with the job.” You shake your head vehemently. “No, you’re always wearing Fred Perry. This fabric is fancy, it’s like Dolce and Gabbana.” Your brother decidedly does not answer.

“Simon! Are you wearing Dolce to my wedding? Are you trying to upstage the bride?!” Only you, his all-knowing sister, would be able to tell he’s blushing under his mask. In an uncharacteristic move, he scratches the nape of his neck, looking off to the side like he’s suddenly interested in church architecture. “Johnny picked it out.” You slap his arm and he moves to ruffle your hair, before remembering it’s in a fancy wedding do. “You’re an absolute git, this is completely unfair. I demand you go to the nearest mall and pick something off the rack.” That comment finally dismisses the dark cloud that’s been hanging over you, sending you two into a laughing fit. 

“I wish Tommy was here. He’dve torched that suit.” His eyes crinkle in a sad smile. “I know, love. I know.” Simon kisses your forehead and you lean into his shoulder, wishing the moment would never end.

But all good things must.

A frazzled assistant, one of your Aunt Riley’s minions, practically sprints over to you. “Doors,” he wheezes, “doors opening in thirty seconds.” And just like that, he’s gone. Probably a cake emergency or something of the sort.

“Do I look okay?” You take one last glimpse in a nearby mirror. You’re wearing a traditional veil, something Simon turns up over your head to hide your face. Despite the hideous dress, the rest of your look turned out quite nice. The flowers are decent, your makeup looks great, and you were even allowed to pick out your own jewelry. A win is a win.

“Most beautiful bride th’ church’s ever seen.” Simon puts out his arm like a gentleman, letting you wrap your own around it. “I love you, Si.” He takes a second, and you swear he’s holding back tears. “Love ya too, kid.”

-

Most of the ceremony passes in a blur.

Lots of flowery words, preaching about commitments you’d rather not think about. Some scripture or Latin thrown in there, but you’re really not paying attention. You’re more concerned with the man in front of you.

Your veil is a little sheer, allowing you to see him in all his groom glory. His eyes are dark, fixated on yours, and you’d be an idiot not to notice how handsome he looks. His tuxedo is sharp, and he’s got a flower tucked into the pocket. A heliotrope, a purple that matches well with the pink bridesmaid dresses. A half memory comes to you, something about heliotropes and eternal devotion, but you tuck that away under your might be mad box.

Finally, it comes to the vows. You haven’t written any and neither has John, instead deciding to use the olden ones. It frightens you, to have this surly man swear you such promises.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

He takes off your veil and you swear his breath hitches. It’s just a split second, but the muscle of his throat freezes and you’re captivated by how manly he looks. All bitter thoughts of enemies can be paused for a moment, you reason.

“You may now kiss the bride.” And he does.

It is not a polite kiss. You don’t know why you thought it would be.

He’s hungry. He catches the small of your back in one hand and your waist in the other, dipping you back in a picture perfect moment. His lips devour yours, delivering small bites and licks before pulling back so suddenly you think you’ve imagined it. You blink and you’re standing, your hand wrapped in John’s, as you look out at the cheering crowd. Mr. and Mrs. John Price.

-

You try to avoid John during the reception, which takes place in the backyard of the local country club. It’s hard to do when you’re supposed to thank everyone as a couple. You greet mafia and community leaders and business owners and politicians, all with the same sweet smile and John’s hand on your back. Do they know this was arranged? It’s hard to tell from the venomous sincerity dripping from their foaming mouths, eyes scanning the four-carat rock on your hand like it’s a prize to be won.

At least you’ve been allowed to change into a lighter dress. The reception dress is shorter, falling respectably right above your knees with long sleeves and a low back. Not low enough to show off the temporary tramp stamp smudged on your back. You keep the veil in, a cute detail that the inner little girl in you adores. If only this was a wedding you wanted.

Thankfully, champagne is in constant supply. You must have drunk at least four flutes now. That, plus your lack of food due to your hangover, makes you sway. John, who has not spoken to you directly at all since maiming your lips at the altar, notices. He tugs you away from the crowd, finding a secluded bench tucked away behind a tree. It reminds you of the garden you met him in a few nights ago.

“Thank god. One more sweaty handshake and I would have keeled over.” You murmur, mostly to yourself. He grunts, taking a seat next to you on the bench and loosening his tie.

“Who said you could sit next to me?” Uh oh. Drunk you is talking.

“‘S gonna be like that? We’re barely five minutes in, sweetheart.” He drags a hand down his face in an exhausted and adorable manner. No. This is the enemy. You must remind the both of you of that fact.

“You’re the enemy.” You poke him sternly in the shoulder, which sort of ruins the effortless effect you were going for. “You finally gonna tell me wha’ I did t’ you? Or is this our next ten years?” You frown at his words, crossing your hands over your chest. He’s acting like you did something wrong, not him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see John avert his gaze as you inevitably (and accidentally) push up your tits. Interesting.

“You ruined my life.” He barks out a laugh. “‘Ve ruined a lot of people’s lives. Need ya t’ be more specific.” Instead of answering, you slide down awkwardly into the grass beneath you, leaning your head back on the bench. It’s nighttime now and the only thing in the sky is the North Star. John’s star.

“You told my father I was a weakness and,” you hiccup, “and you told him to send me away. And lookwherethatgotme…” You trail off, eyes fluttering. Your eyes feel a thousand times heavier than normal, and everything hits you at once. Your lack of sleep from your night out, the stress of the day, the emotional conversations - they all boil over like a pot on the stove. “Think I’m gonna sleep now…” John hums, still next to you, and you drift off to the sound.

-

When you wake up, your head is throbbing. Why are you sitting on grass? There’s a suit jacket covering your front, keeping you warm from the night’s chill. Your neck throbs from laying back on the stone bench. There’s a stink in the air, a nasty smell, and when you turn to your right, you see your new husband smoking. Jacketless.

“Nice nap?” You nod, embarrassment coursing through your veins like a drug. “How long was I out?” He flicks the ash of his cigar onto the grass. “Long ‘nough people thought we were consummatin’ the marriage.” Oh. That was…not something you needed to think about.

“You feelin’ sober? Remember anythin’ you said?” You shake your head. Unbeknownst to you, John is frowning. The last few hours are a blur, a black spot in your memory. There’s still alcohol in your body, but a headache is starting to form as well. 

“Let’s get some food in ya. Can’t have my new wife droppin’ dead at the weddin’.” You let him help you up, slipping on his jacket to cover the grass stains on your dress. That’s the only reason you don’t take it off.

-

The rest of the night gets easier. Dinner saves you, but then Johnny’s putting drinks in your hands and your cousins are pulling you to the dance floor. You have an emotional dance with Simon, a not-so emotional one with John, and then you’re passed to a slew of people to make nice with. 

It’s 2am when the party finally settles down. People have gone home, thankfully including your aunt, and you say your goodbyes. John takes you back to the Ritz, a silent, quick car ride. You’re thankful for the quiet but confused all the same. The air is charged, like you just had an argument and lost. Is he mad? Regretting this? You don’t know him enough to tell, and that irks you.

The elevator takes you to the penthouse this time. Only the best for the king of London. John stands beside you, no hand on your back. It’s entirely businesslike: the walk to the room, shutting yourself in the bathroom, donning pajamas and a dressing gown. You would shower, but you need to finish your routine at the vanity.

If this were a real wedding, maybe he would have carried you in his arms over the threshold. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands off you, ravishing you in the entryway. Maybe he’d whisper in your ear, “Mrs. Price”.

Instead of that fantasy, you’re tipsy and angry about the fact that you are now Mrs. Price. Maybe that’s why you say it.

“I’m not a virgin.” You’re at the vanity, taking out the mountains of jewelry that pour out of every crevice of your body. It’s the last thing to remove before the weight of your wedding is off your shoulders. The mirror is giant, big enough so you can see John stop unbuttoning his shirt when you say the words. “You’re not?” You shake your head. He frowns. “Might as well send ya back now, get my money, and-,” he stops. Maybe it’s because you’re staring hard at his reflection. You don’t even like him, but the champagne and sting of rejection cut deep.

“Was jokin’, sweetheart. Didn’t expect you t’ be a virgin. Too much pressure, honestly.” Oh. Oh. He’s always called you sweetheart, spit it out like poison designed to kill. This is the first time he’s said it kindly and your heart curls around the word like a sleepy cat. Which will absolutely not do.

“Will make it easier, I reckon. ‘S a tight fit.” He winks jokingly and you scoff at his insinuation. He’s being oddly jovial, a 180 from the car ride, and you need to ruin this truce before it becomes permanent. 

“Sure, that’s probably what your exes have said. It was probably a ‘tight fit’ because they weren’t wet, John. Ever heard of foreplay? F-o-r-e-p-l-a-y, look it up. I expect-”, except you don’t get to tell him your expectations because he’s shut you up with a calloused hand around your throat. It’s not violent and you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but the shock factor hits its target.

“Yer used t’ yer brother an’ his men, crude jokes an’ the like. I get it. But I demand respect an’ you’ll respect your husband now. Got it?” He isn’t blocking your airway, just holding your throat with his hand like a collar around it. He stands behind you with his unbuttoned shirt, giving you a glimpse of his hairy torso, hard with muscle. “The same way you respect me?” You mutter. He straightens in the mirror, his hand loose. A thumb caresses your jawbone, one stroke then two, before he pulls it away completely like it never happened. “I’m tryin’ to. Let’s agree on that, yeah?” You nod stiffly, sobered and treading with cautious feet. Is this how he’ll be? Acting like a military captain, an all-consuming force?

“And, sweetheart.” He grabs your free hand, the one lying on the desk. His large paw engulfs your own, bringing it to the outline of his cock in his boxers. You can feel the weight of him and, against your will, you squeeze. He’s thick, no, girthy. The fabric is thin, allowing you to feel the ridges of his cock, the veins, and its shape. Your hand acts of its own accord, sliding down until your thumb brushes the mushroomed tip. His cock twitches in your hand and you jump in your seat, snatching your hand away like it’s on fire. His chuckle is low and bruising, a damning caress. 

“Thought so.” And your new husband walks away. 

When you toss your silk dressing gown into the hamper for housekeeping, neither of you comment on the wet spot that’s soaked through. That’s the closest you get to consummating your marriage tonight.

-

i dont care if this is in london, im using miles. deal with it

-

@heretoreadanddrinktea

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@sleep101

@ontopofthefridge

@lilynotdilly

@teenagellamaangel

@harperdoodle

@ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

@violetisheresworld

[m4ttslvr]

˳ ៚ Stars

cocky sub!matt x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend matt can’t resist you when you wear those tiny shorts around him, even if his brothers may hear you get devoured by him

warnings: oral fem!receiving, pet names, matt the munch!!

“FUCK!” you scream at the monitor in front of you where someone just shot you and made you lose the game for everyone.

“y/n! i told you he was right behind you!” chris yells through your headset.

“chris don’t yell at her, you literally had the shot and missed it dumbass” nick defends you.

you groan loudly in annoyance at yourself, “sorry guys, can we try again?”

“ok let me get a snack and a drink first” nick says. “get me something too!” chris tells him.

you were about to ask for a snack as well, instead you yelp when you are quickly spun around in your chair.

you are met with your boyfriend matt looking down at you. “matt!” you protest with a giggle, playfully slapping his arm.

he doesn’t react much, his eyes are trained on your exposed thighs which seem to have him in a trance.

“m’sorry, you just look so delicious” matt says in a whisper, his gaze unwavering. your cheeks go red as he spreads your legs with an eager grip, and kneels in front of you. “just want a taste, please?” he looks up at you with puppy eyes that make you melt into his chair.

he places a hot kiss on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh that makes you jump a little and you quickly snap his head up by his hair. “matt we can’t right now, i’m on a game with your brothers” you whisper, covering your mic with your other hand.

he looks up at you with blown out eyes that are glazed over with desire. “don’t care” he whines, his long fingers pulling at the hem of your red booty shorts. “pretty please?” he asks, with a pout.

you really didn’t have the strength to say no when he was looking up at you like that. your body was already hot with desire and your pussy was getting wetter by the second.

"ok" you say softly, with your heart pounding in your chest. a smile spreads across his face and he licks his lips before sucking at your sensitive skin. you softly moan low in your throat. before you get too lost in the pleasure of matt’s touch, you reach to take off your headset.

you’re stopped by matt's tattooed arm, your wrist in his hand. you look at him wide eyed, he calmly shakes his head at you. "you're gonna keep playing" he says, more of a command than a statement. your heart is racing now but you nod anyway.

matt slides his strong hands under your knees pulling you closer to him until the gaming chair is pressed against his chest. he then raises your legs and places them over his shoulders.

“mmm you’re soaking through your shorts baby” he says in a cocky tone, biting his lip to hide his proud smirk.

you jump when his brothers yell something at you through the headset. you forgot they were there.

you feel matt lick you through your shorts as you’re about to answer. “y-yeah, i’m here” your voice more high pitched and shaky than you intended.

nick and matt are complaining about how bad you’re playing but you can’t find it in you to care when your boyfriend is slipping your shorts off agonizingly slow.

your eyes are glued to the veins on his hands and the feeling of his fingertips sliding down your hot thighs is making your breathing ragged.

matt’s biting back a smirk watching you squirm. “patient” he mouths and you might just cry because of how desperate he’s making you.

chris is begging in a really loud voice you on the other line to play as good as you usually do which matt hears. he places your hands on the keyboard signaling for you to play. you’re expression is dumbfounded but you’ll do anything matt wants you to do right now.

“go on baby, play nice” matt says with an encouraging wink while he slides a finger down the witness of your panties. his touch tickles your clit ever so softly and he adds a bit of pressure at your entrance— the air in the room heavy.

you can only nod as you try to play the game. you’re trying to concentrate on chris’ instructions and when you’re finally starting to shoot straight, matt pulls your panties to the side and blows on your exposed cunt, making you gasp into the mic.

“what?” chris asks, thinking it’s a reaction to the game. “answer” matt commands steadily, his eyes trained on your leaking and pulsating pussy.

you try to come up with something on the spot “a shooter behind the—“ you’re cut off by matt’s mouth attacking your pussy without warning. “oh!” you squeal in surprise and pleasure.

“behind what?” both nick and chris ask into the your ears. your hands pressed random buttons on the keyboard making your avatar run towards a random bush. matt digs his tongue into your entrance, your walls instantly clenching around it desperate to be filled with it.

“there mm— there” your mind short circuiting and muscle memory kicking in, you are encouraging matt going down on you but his brothers think you’re telling them there’s a shooter behind a bush.

“there’s nobody here” nick says confused. matt is now licking up and down between your folds, brushing your clit and your hole with every glide of his tongue. you were now biting your hand trying to muffle your moans.

“focus y/n, take it and come on” chris says into your ears and your brain short circuits again, taking what chris said as a sexual command instead of what he actually meant, which was him handing your avatar a gun. before you can register what you’re doing you moan an “mhmm” as a reply.

your eyes go wide when you realize what you did and there’s silence on the other line, you feel embarrassment wash over you in a wave of heat down your entire body. matt doesn’t stop working his mouth on you, he is lost in your taste.

you hear someone clear their throat on your headset and then they start having a conversation about strategies for the game.

you’re thankful they don’t address it and they’re not questioning you anymore because matt has just started pumping two of his long fingers into you— all coherent thoughts gone and your back arched in pleasure.

matt was relentless shaking his head side to side, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth. you are grinding down on his fingers now, your jaw slack, desperately chasing your high.

the hand that was over your mouth goes to hold onto the armrest of the chair so you don’t fall off the chair. but that was a mistake since another flounder escaped your lips, this time louder than before.

you try to disguise it as a reaction to the game, coughing and gasping as if something shocking happened in the game. “you good y/n?” chris voice says into your ears.

“fuck! s-someone’s shooting— at— me” you manage to say, while your boobs are bouncing from the strength in which matt is fucking you with his tongue. you watch matt’s low lidded eyes follow your breasts up and down.

“…what? where?” chris asks.

you’re breathing hard through your nose, so you don’t pant all over the mic and into matt’s brother’s ears.

“you’re way behind or something, we don’t see you?” nick says.

you try your hardest to click the right buttons and get it together, “m’good now” you manage to say.

“..okay” nick says, clearly worried about my playing skills.

matt reaches for your tank top with his free hand and tugs at it. you’re lost in the feeling of his lips on you that you don’t register what he’s asking. he stops devouring you pulling a sound of protest form you, “off” he says tugging at your shirt.

you get it this time and quickly strip, your boobs jiggling as they’re released from your tight tank top. matt’s hand immediately starts playing with your breast, squeezing and playing with your nipples. the stimulation becoming overwhelming, you felt your orgasm close.

with your vision blurry due to your low eyelids, you barely saw on the screen that his brothers had lost this round making you sigh in relief.

“wanna go another round y/n?,” chris asks immediately. you can’t form words at the moment with matt abusing your pussy so you can only make a noise of disapproval.

“pleaseeee?” chris begs. you can’t help that his words go straight to your pussy, making it throb even harder against matt’s lips.

you pulled at matt’s curls, the chair rocking back and forth. you were staring to feel like you were being too rough, but your worry is discarded when matt grips you from your waist and grinds you down even harder onto his face.

“you can do it, come on y/n” chris encourages you, his words having a whole different meaning for you at the moment.

his voice sounds almost identical to matt’s through the headset and it’s turning you on impossibly more.

“please please please please” chris goes on in a whiny voice.

you can’t take it anymore and you reach for the mute button. you’re lucky that you did because a second later matt curves his tongue and fingers inside you, making you moan matt’s name loudly and release all into his mouth.

matt wastes no time sucking up your juices, the feeling overstimulating your spent cunt making you see stars.

a/n: in honor of streamer matt making a comeback! ;3

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀·

[koishiro]

# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 ����𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Kento Nanami

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

Satoru Gojo

Gojo has no shame, you should know this. It’s no surprise to anyone when they see the jujutsu teacher just waltz over in his usual long strides and (quite aggressively) places his head on your lap. And if you ignore him? Ohohoho he’d be a menace. From nudging his head on your stomach, to biting the soft plush of your thighs, all for you to run your fingers through his hair.

He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.

“Satu, I have to get up”

“‘M? Later”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“They can wait”

Suguru Geto

Suguru would be slightly more subtle than Gojo, but still pretty affectionate. You’d often find him reading a book or two later followed by a complaint of how stiff and achy his back and neck were which led you to now, sitting down on your shared couch and contentedly scrolling through your phone until you felt an unfamiliar weight weigh down on your lap.

Temporarily turning your attention to the man now taking place on your lap, a book in one hand while the other absentmindedly toyed with the fabric of your shirt, you stared at him for a moment until your burning gaze tore his attention away from his book, as if you were the one to invade his personal bubble.

“Hm? Yes darling? Are you not considering the pain and backache I’ve been going through for this book? Have some sympathy, I thought this would be better for my posture.”

Yuji Itadori

This boy would be so oblivious, not even realising the effect he had on you. He would be in the middle of talking about Human Earthworm 4 and would first start to lean his body weight on your shoulder before gradually moving down to your lap, even going as far as to readjust you and your position just like a pillow.

It would only occur to him what position he’s actually in when his one sided conversation starts to die off, now realising how his head and hands are tucked between your plush thighs - skin on skin contact.

“O-Oh uhm - I’m so sorry!

Megumi Fushiguro

Don’t expect this to ever happen in public but in the privacy of your own home? Megumi would be severely more touchy when he’s tired so when he’s exhausted? He’ll have no shame. Dragging his feet through the threshold of his dorm, his bag being dragged not too far behind he makes a beeline towards his bed where the outline of non other than his lover was hidden beneath the covers.

Leaving his bag behind, Megumi navigates his way towards the warmth of your body before toeing off his shoes and slipping his way between your legs, arms tucked beneath the plush of your thighs. Asking about his day you had to strain your ears to hear his response

“‘missed you. Wanted to come home earlier but Gojo was an ass. R’lly missed your warmth.”

Toji Fushiguro

This man has no shame. If you’d be sitting a centimetre too far for his liking you best know he’s gonna clamp his large hands down on you and drag you to where he likes. He’d even go as far as to lift your legs over his own thighs and (like a cat) paw at the skin of your thighs.

So when you happen to pass by his chair while he’s in the middle of a slightly less than exciting conversation he was having with a name he couldn’t even remember of course his first instinct is to reach out and pull you down, caging you between his two arms - his hands nicely warmed between your two thighs before they ventured and groped at any available skin.

“Stay nice ‘n pretty f’me kay? Don’t wanna make this guy uncomfortable do ya? ‘N keep your pretty mewls to yaself until we get home hm?”

Toge Inumaki

Bby boy just wants to be comforted okay? Is that too much to ask for? He’d already be so comfortable around you that he wouldn’t think twice about what he was doing.

You both could be lying down outside, one or both reading a book and after a while of resting in the same spot for hours on end he’d struggle to find a comfortable spot and the next best thing to a patch of grass? His lover of course. Toge would slowly shift his way towards you so you’d end up as a mesh of bodies resembling a ‘T’. A few squeezes to your thighs every now and then followed by a series of onigri ingredients,

“I should do this more often, you’re much more comfy than any pillow I’ve owned. My own portable neck pillow.”

Kento Nanami

This wouldn’t happen often at the start of your relationship with Kento considering he’s never had to (quite literally) lean on anyone before but it never bothered you, you knew before you threw yourself into the relationship that he’d take some time to warm up and you were right because slowly after months of quick pecks and fleeting touches - the unfamiliar weight of your boyfriends head leaned on your shoulder. The tired eyes and dark bags beneath his eyes said all you needed to know.

“Tired?” With a grunt of agreement, clearly too tired to even lift his head, you lead him down to rest on your lap where he stayed without complaint until hours later when the sun shone through the living room curtains and the blanket you managed to reach and place over top you both before swiftly joining him lay on the floor long forgotten. Nanami would all but bury his face deeper between your thighs - chasing the warmth they emanated while his hands found closure beneath them.

“Please, don’t move. At least not yet.”

[buuniebaby]

receiving and giving head 👅👅

IN THE BACKSEAT - PT1

showing how greatful you are for the way your boyfriend cares about you.

notes: I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH. before I left I had an idea based on this ask + another ask to make a fic about hamzah giving u head, receiving, and giving him a handjob, and I was gonna make them 3 lil short blurbs but i kinda got carried away and decided to just make 3 fics.

contains: kinda dubious consent, road head, the sloppiest toppy you’ve ever seen

wc: 2k 🎀

it’s not uncommon for your boyfriend to get sick of being indoors. it’s almost like an itch, driving him to get out, move, go do something to keep him from bed-rotting.

it’s a feeling becoming far too familiar this morning, creeping up into hamzah’s head because he’s just so suffocated by the house around him. his bed doesn’t feel comforting anymore, just messy and overwhelming. it stresses him out.

the feeling starts to get visible when you watch as he starts doing that thing where he bounces his leg up and down as fast as he can.

“you good?” you ask, looking up at him from your side of the bed. you’ve known him for long enough to know that something’s up - now you just need to go through the 3-4 things that could actually be wrong and figure out what’s bothering him.

“just.. bored.” he says, shrugging to himself. it’s a surface level response, not letting you in as deep as you’d like to be, but it gives you all the information you need.

“y’wanna go for a drive?” you ask, first solution coming to mind. it shocks him for a second, how you’ve come up with the perfect solution given nothing to work with, before he remembers that you know him better than anyone. of course you can guess that he’s restless.

“how did you-“ he says, cutting himself off because he really doesn’t need to argue with you. “yeah, I do.”

“I’ll go with you.” you say, shrugging the blanket you were nicely tucked into off of you in one swift movement. he jerks a little, noticing the way you seemed comfortable under the covers.

“you don’t have to-“ he stutters, but you’ve already made your way out of the bed to get ready.

“want to. it’s fine.” you mutter as you walk to the bathroom. “plus, i’m hungry. this is like, the perfect opportunity to force you to take me through a drive thru.”

not much time passes before you’re hamzah’s passenger princess, dropping to the side of your boyfriend and cranking the seat back to whatever makes you comfortable. as if it’s an instinct, one of his hands creeps it’s way to your thigh, slowly rubbing the flesh. you’ve noticed that physical touch seems to comfort him, even if it’s as small as just having a hand on you.

you tap your fingers on the dash in a rhythmic pattern as he drives, subconsciously trying to pass the time. he looks over at you, noticing your restlessness, and shooting a quick smile at you before focusing himself back onto the road. it makes your heart thump a little harder for a second, and you melt back into your seat.

“have to go to the gas station,” he mumbles, eyes still locked in on the road. “pick up some stuff.“ all you can do is just reply with a soft “mhmm,” knowing from his tone that he’s probably got a lot on his mind.

it’s not long before he’s pulling into a parking lot, tapping your thigh with his hand before he pulls it away to open the door. “be right back, love you.” he mutters; a small comment, but it means the world to you. it’s the way he goes out of his way to make sure you’re safe, knowing he’s not going to be gone long - it’s a sweet gesture.

you’re finding yourself staring out the window into space for a few minutes, before you flinch at the sound of the door opening again. suddenly, you’re melting into your seat again - this time, with a warm smile.

there hamzah is, few things in hand - most notably, an arizona tea can in your favorite flavor. something you didn’t even have to ask for, but he still thought of. your stomach flips and it hits you;

he really cares.

he shoves himself back into his seat, nonchalantly handing you the tea and cracking open an energy drink for himself. you just keep staring at him while he gets comfortable, a adoring glare in your eyes. he doesn’t notice it until he buckles his seatbelt and looks over at you, doing a double take when he realizes how intensely you’re staring.

“what?” he chuckles, searching your face.

“you’re so sweet.” you say, a mix between a smile and a frown on your face forming as you hold your drink in your hands. he looks back at you like you’re crazy.

“it’s just like, a drink-“ he replies back, confused at your demeanor. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t get it.” you sigh, lovingly. “like, I didn’t even have to ask. you just.. thought of me.” you duck your head, softly smiling while rubbing your fingers together.

“i guess.” he replies back as the engine of your car revs, still not understanding why you’re so amused by a simple act. “just wanted to see you smile.”

you think you can feel yourself melting.

he places his hand back on your thigh again as he gets back on the road, and you come to a realization.

you want to give this man the sloppiest, most earth-shattering head he’ll ever experience.

“hamzahhh..” you mumble, looking up at him with those big, glossy eyes, because you know it’ll get it to him. he looks over at you, staggering his attention between your face and the road. he lets out a little “hm?” in response to the sound of his name, making sure you’re okay.

this time, you move a hand over to his thigh, gently tracing the fabric of his shorts with your fingers while you contemplate your next move. his thighs are so fucking beefy and bulky and you think your panties are completely soaked.

“can i-“ you start, cutting yourself off when you realize what you’re about to say. you decide to move your hands a little higher before you say what’s on your mind, ever-so-slightly palming him through his shorts. he lets out a small whine, eyes losing focus on the road.

“what are you-“ he cuts himself off, nearly gasping at the impetuous feeling of your hands creeping up on him. you can tell he’s trying to keep himself from giving in to your touch.

“i wanna suck your dick like, so bad right now.”

hamzah grips the steering wheel as tight as he possibly can.

“yeah- t-that’s- yeah. okay.” he manages to get out, gasping for air. his hips rock upwards, pressing himself into your hands. “fuck- please.”

you give yourself a sly smile, celebrating your success as you reach a hand into his pants. you have to pull his shirt up a little for full access, revealing the hair of his happy trail peeking out - a sight that always gets you going. he’s already letting out a breathy moan the second your hand comes in contact with his cock, pulling it out of his boxers.

“love you s’much hamzah.” you mumble, voice drunken with bliss as you watch him grow in your hand. there’s already precum dribbling over the tip, which you swipe away with your thumb, causing him to shiver and choke on his breath a bit.

as you start to move your hands up and down the length in front of you, a tension builds. you can tell he’s struggling to focus on the road, taking desperate peeks down at the sight below him. you click your tongue.

“keep your eyes on the road, baby.” you say, making eye contact with him as you fingers wrap around his cock.

hamzah thinks he might have just died then and there.

he grumbles as he follows your orders, sweating as he locks his eyes on the road in front of him. it’s almost a little funny, knowing how desperate he is to see the scene below him. you giggle at his obedience before you flip your hair over your shoulder, mouth sinking onto his cock.

“fuck-“ hamzah jolts, feeling your lips drag across his length. “you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” he lets out, shuddering.

you let out a laugh around his cock, and he decides he can’t take it anymore. eyes still locked on the road, he moves a hand down from the steering wheel and gathers your hair with it. before you know it, he’s created a makeshift ponytail in his hand, tugging at it and pushing your head down.

you gag a little, his cock being shoved down your throat from the mixture of him pushing your head and thrusting his hips upwards. it’s uncomfortable, but watching him take control like this is so euphoric to you - it cancels out.

you hollow your cheeks, letting out a content hum when you feel your nose make contact with the bushy hair around his cock, buried as deep as it possibly can be inside the warmth of your mouth. hamzah isn’t that mean though, so he uses his grip on your hair to pull you off for a breath.

you use your break to gather the saliva in your mouth from the intrusion of his dick, spitting it straight onto his cock, and using your hand to jerk him off with your self-made lubricant. he stays verbal, moaning as the grip on your hair gets tighter.

“didn’t know you were this much of a fucking slut.”

huh.

you like that-

you like that a lot.

his words motivate you to take control, sinking your head back down onto his cock. he moans, then lets out a low chuckle.

“y’like that, huh?” he asks, taking a glance down as he watches you nod, dick still shoved down your throat.

“such a fucking- god,” he stops himself, rocking his hips against your mouth. “such a whore, can’t have her lips off of my fucking cock for five f-fucking seconds. has to suck me off in the car, couldn’t wait until we got home-“ he rambles as his hips buck into your lips.

“fuck- baby.”

you can feel tears building up in the corners of your eyes as you continue working your tongue around his cock while it stays warm in the deep cavern of your throat. you’re shocked at how hamzah hasn’t given up and just crashed the car at this point, from the way his hips slam up into you, silently begging for stimulation.

“gonna fucking cum- shit.” he warns, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you bob your head up and down his shaft faster - he takes it as a silent invitation.

Before you can process what’s happening, there’s a twitch followed by a warmth hitting the back of your throat. it makes you gag a bit before you’re able to regain control and swallow, pulling off.

you’re immediately met with the sight of a disheveled hamzah, sweaty and fucked-out, blankly staring at the road in front of you. it’s not until you process that you’re on the road, which immediately moves your eyes to the speedometer, going a solid 20 above the speed limit.

“hamzah, holy shit, slow down.” you giggle. he needs to take a breather before he slowly nods and complies, slowing the car.

the next thing you notice is the way his cock is still out in the open, covered in a mix of cum and slobber. you wipe your mouth on your sleeve and then carefully shove his half-hard cock back into his pants; it elicits a small shiver from the boy. it’s kind of cute like this, watching him so fucked out of his mind he can barely communicate.

he fixes his posture as he begins to come back to life, rubbing his furrowed brow with one of his hands.

“holy fuck, baby.” he trails off. it’s what he says next in that blissed-out tone that really gets you.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

now that you’ve cleaned up after him, your only responsibility is to make sure he feels comforted. you rest your head on his shoulder from the passenger seat, snuggling up to his lax arm while watching him drive.

“remind me to buy you shit more often.”

[greg-montgomery]

Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭

Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.

One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.

At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.

It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.

He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.

“My dream boy!”

Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.

Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.

That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.

Tall – check.

Dark hair – check.

Sweet – check, well to you at least.

Brings me flowers – check.

Calls me princess – not check.

Princess, huh? That was new.

He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.

A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.

--

Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.

He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.

“Baby?”

You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”

“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”

Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”

You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”

“You like them, honey?”

“I love them.”

Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”

Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.

“What are the giggles for?”

“Nothing…”

He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.

“Y/N?”

“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.

“To be called what?” he asked.

“Princess…”

“I know.” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I read it in your diary.”

“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I found it through your old stuff.”

“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”

“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”

“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.

The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.

“What else did you read?”

“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”

“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.

“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.

“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”

“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”

“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi there! I’m new to your blog and I love your writing! I wanted to submit a request if that’s okay?

Request: a joel miller x pregnant reader drabble where the reader wakes up Joel all excitedly because the baby is kicking?🥰

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧

Fluff, no outbreak, 1.3k

Pairing Joel Miller x Pregnant Female Reader

A/N Welcome, anon! Thanks for waiting a few days for me to get around to this request. I was in love with it the moment you sent it in.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Magic stirs beneath your skin. That’s the best way to describe the feeling. Something real and near that you still find hard to believe. Nevertheless, you do. 

“Joel? Joel, wake up,” your whispered words carry your smile. 

The first pass of your fingers through his silver-streaked hair doesn’t elicit a response. He remains still, arms tucked beneath the pillow as his breath fans past slightly parted lips. So you do it again, this time letting your nails scratch his scalp. The feeling coaxes him into partial wakefulness, his lips twitching as he shifts beneath the milky sheets.

You’re sitting with your back propped against the headboard, a pillow cushioned behind you so the rustic wood feels kinder. The hem of your shirt is pulled up enough to bare the skin of your rounded stomach, where your free hand makes slow passes. 

“The baby’s kicking,” you say. 

A small sound rises up his throat as you continue stroking through his hair with a practiced gentleness. 

After a week that seemed to stretch forever, with appointments for you and a few double shifts for Joel, the weekend had arrived with the promise of rest. The amount of light streaming into the bedroom attests that it’s well past your usual rising time. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 

Not when you can hear the familiar barks of neighborhood dogs outside, and the muffled sound of Sarah and Ellie laughing downstairs since they’re home for Winter break. All the little things your mind oftentimes tuned out had become precious in the absence of immediate responsibilities. 

After Joel fights off the remaining grasp of sleep, his bleary eyes flutter open to the sunlit room. In the process of turning over to face you, the sheets slip further down and reveal more of his broad, freckled shoulders. 

He blinks up at you with those dark, warm eyes. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rumbles, propping himself on his forearms after shivering through a good stretch. “Everything okay—” 

“Gimme your hand,” you urge, your smile so compelling that his own, sleepier one begins to grow. 

Joel lets you guide his palm to rest over a specific spot on the left side of your stomach even though his long fingers cover way more ground. His touch is warm and steady against your skin, and you settle your smaller hand settle on top of his as you await his reaction. When he feels the first gentle press of the baby’s foot, the fact that it’s actually happening doesn’t quite register. For nearly five months, he’d been awaiting the day he could relish these more palpable signs of life. 

A small, focussed furrow forms between his brows, and it isn’t until the second press that a surprised chuckle escapes him, all breathy and disbelieving. He meets your gaze to confirm he hadn’t imagined it, and your sparkling eyes tell him everything he needs to know. 

“She’s kickin’...” his hand follows the gentle movements of your daughter. 

“I know. Thought I was gonna have to find an air horn to wake you up,” you say lightly.  

Joel’s cheeks warm as he chuckles, and the crinkles that form by his eyes are well worth it. 

“You’re too nice with it. Gotta jostle me next time.” 

A chuckle bubbles up your throat, but you shake your head with a certain sincerity. “I feel bad enough for waking you up,” you say. 

Joel’s hand stills against your stomach, and he looks at you more intently. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he says. 

Especially with it being the first time your baby’s movements are so noticeable. Joel never had moments like this with Sarah.

Her mother got pregnant midway through their senior year of high school, and her family made her cut contact with Joel for her own sake. In their eyes, he was merely the guy who’d knocked up their promising young daughter. They didn’t know the two of them were in love. Or, at least, what Joel had believed was love. 

It had been an accident, he’d given them that. But he never saw it as an unfortunate thing, and quickly learned he was alone in bearing that belief. 

They were able to reconnect after Sarah’s mother was no longer living under her parents’ roof, but even then, that familial strain left a permanent mark. While she attended a four-year college, Joel took up a trade so he could start working as soon as possible to support them. As it became clear that she intended to rack up degrees in hopes of building the career her parents always envisioned for her, Joel stepped up to raise Sarah on his own. 

Scooting closer to you, he withdraws his hand and presses his lips to your skin in its place. They’re pillowy and warm, and the way you look down at him makes him prickle with a lovely, consuming warmth. 

He’d never cared for another person so deeply. Meeting you knocked him off his feet, and he never recovered. Then, on that quiet evening a few months ago, when you told him you were pregnant, the very fabric of his being shifted yet again. 

In roughly four months, he’d have another girl to hold, and just like with Sarah, Ellie, and you, his heart would stretch to accommodate the newness of it all. 

Terrifying is what it is. Terrifying, and wonderful, and something he wouldn’t trade even if the entire universe was up for a bargain. 

“Thank you,” he says against the skin of your stomach.

You comb your fingers through his hair. Even though you offer a soft smile, he can see the hint of curiosity in your gaze. 

“For waking me up,” he clarifies. “And for being so good to me and the girls.” You shake your head because you’d do it all over again if it meant finding your way back to this moment. “You’re gonna be the best mom. Already are.” 

A brief silence passes between the two of you as you chase after what little movements your daughter is willing to give you for the time being. In another life, you’d be able to say you envisioned being here with him back when you first met. When really, you’d been too scared to envision anything in fear you’d jinx an unseeable future. 

You’ve never been attracted to someone as holistically as you were to Joel. His wit is so endlessly funny that you find yourself laughing even when he claims he isn’t trying to be. And he’s the type of kind that never asks for permission but simply shows up and does. He has such a selfless willingness to ease the burdens of those around him that it seems like the rug is surely going to be pulled from under you, but it has yet to be. Being with him is easy.  

After having Sarah and later adopting Ellie, Joel reached a place where he was content in life. He never expected you to come along and enrich it beyond what he ever thought possible. 

“I love you,” Joel says to your belly, then flits his eyes up to you. “And I love you.” The fondness in his gaze makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. 

“I love you more,” you reply softly, stroking his stubbled cheek with your thumb. 

Joel briefly purses his lips, but doesn’t counter like he usually does. Instead, he turns to kiss your hand. “What are you feeling for breakfast?” 

Your eyes take on a sparkle as a stray giggle escapes. Joel catches on immediately, shaking his head and losing the battle against his budding smile. 

“You,” you tease in a playful lilt, just to see the faint color that rises to his cheeks. “Don’t look at me like that, you walked right into that one.” 

“I did,” he admits, his grin widening despite himself. “What am I gonna do with you?” 

“You’ll figure something out.” You let your fingers trail gently along his jaw. 

Joel presses a final kiss to your stomach in hopes of hiding his lovesick smile.

He reckons he’ll figure something out. He always does. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all. ♡

MORE

[missqhughes]

MORE THAN FRIENDS | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem! reader

-> contains: angst (resolved), kissing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual acts, fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: all the alcohol has wore off, and y/n finds herself naked in her best friends bed. things take a turn for the worst when luke starts to hint regret towards what they did the night before; but what does that mean for their friendship?

-> part 2 to get comfortable! i’m sorry i can’t just write pure angst i’ll make myself too sad. but dw it’s gonna be so juicy. also if ur missing someone goooooood fucking luck reading this w dry eyes 🫥alsoloveitasmuchasidothankyouhappyreadingggg!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

the all too well known pounding headache was the first thing y/n woke up to; oh, and also being completely naked in luke’s bed.

her eyes made their best attempt to adjust to the sunlight that poured into his bedroom. she turned over to her side, and there was luke sleeping peacefully, the blanket dangerously low on his waist, revealing hickies littered all over his v-line and stomach.

with a heavy breath, she checks down her own body; chest abused with hickies, trailing all the way down to her inner thighs. a quick look over to her backside reveals a red, unmistakable hand mark on her ass.

there was no denying that she had sex with luke last night.

y/n feels the bed shifting, a groan coming from the boy next to her.

“oh, you’re already up,”

his voice is horse, a combination of his drowsy state and losing it the night before. y/n turns around to face him, lifting up the comforter to cover her chest, any attempt to conceal her bare body to his now sober eyes.

“yeah, i just woke up literally a minute ago,” she says, a small smile to accompany. his eyes scan over her body, taking in all of it, eyes fluttering in an almost of a surprise of what he had done with it.

“do you… do you remember anything of what we did last night?”

y/n started to recount everything of the night before, how she felt with he was thrusting deep into her, his teeth sinking into her skin. how he looked with his head thrown back when she was on her knees in front of him. how he kissed up and down her back, not daring to let go.

“yeah… yeah i do.” she said, mouth twitching into a smile, anything to cure the tension. luke said nothing.

and there it was.

silence.

silence.

silen-

“i think you should go.” his words were a lot colder and harsher than he intended, but he sat up, refusing eye contact with her.

“you know to like… shower and eat and whatnot.”

nice save, she thought.

“no yeah, you’re right, i’m gonna change then be out of here,” she said, collecting her scattered clothing all over the floor. y/n changed into her short pink dress from the night before, ready for the walk-to-the-uber of shame that was ready to greet her.

while she changed, luke also got himself into a pair of boxers. y/n glanced over to him for a second, the image of him in his boxers, tired eyes and his body left with evidence of sex on it being burned into her brain.

“i’ll see you later yeah?” y/n said, opening the door and expecting luke’s usual response of “always,”

he purse his lips before responding, “bye.”

his words weren’t cold, or harsh, but disconnected.

disconnected from her.

y/n looked back at him, and he was already facing away. she wanted to say something, but didn’t let herself. instead she turned around and left.

——————————————————————————

it had been days since luke had spoken to y/n.

a million and one thoughts were racing in her head, each causing more anxiety than the last. they would come up at random times, like a jumpscare any time she let her thoughts travel to luke.

cooking dinner,

did he think it was bad?

studying,

did he regret what they did?

laying in bed, at approximately 3:46am,

did she ruin their friendship?

enough was enough. she needed answers, and she needed them now.

she knew he had practice this day, so in about 20 minutes, y/n found herself stomping into the yost ice arena, on the prowl to find luke. practice had just ended, and she shoved past the other guys and ignored the looks of confusion they gave her each other.

she ripped open the locker room door to a surpised luke, jersey off, but still in gear. his mouth opened, but y/n wasn’t going to let him get the opportunity to speak before her.

“where the hell do you get off on not speaking to me? huh? is it because we fucked? is that it?”

y/n pointed her finger at him accusingly, her face contorted into a look of disgust, but also sadness, and confusion. she was on the guard, but deep down scared shitless of what he was going to say.

luke sighed heavily, facing away from her and shuffling with the things in his section, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

y/n scoffed, “bullshit and you know it. what is it? tell me the truth luke warren. so what, we fucked okay? is that really the only reason you don’t speak to me of all people for days?”

he still had his back away from her, but his with his head dipped down, arms on his side. “it was a mistake. we shouldn’t have done it.”

she felt tears welling up in her eyes, cheeks flushed hot with anger and embarrassment.

“i’m so glad you think that luke,” she paused, making the best effort she could to control the shakyness in her voice, or how her throat burned in an attempt to get the words out. “if this is how you’re going to act after what happened, don’t speak to me now, or ever.”

it stung like hell to say, but she meant it. having enough with the situation, not being able to bear how much it hurt for him to be in her presence, she turned around and walked to the exit.

she didn’t look back. not like last time. but luke did. his body faced her as she slammed the door shut, only catching the last bit of her clothing and hair, her scent lingering where she was standing. his eyes were tinted red from tears, breath caught in his throat from regret with what he said, and even worse, what he didn’t say.

——————————————————————————

weeks had passed since they last spoke.

y/n was a mess. she refused to go out, turning her nose up at even the thought of drinking. her body ached when her mind wandered to luke; what he was doing, how he was doing, if he was thinking of her.

it hurt like hell.

and there she sat, curled up in the shower, recounting the memories her and luke shared. how they were always the first to wish happy birthday to each other. sharing their first middle school class together. sitting by the firepit, talking for hours at the lake house. crying in each others arms when they both got accepted to their shared dream school. graduation. a picture her parents took of them hugging outside their freshman year dorm building. how they held each other when no one else would understand, how they would still laugh their asses off even when no one would understand the joke but them.

oh, how he understood her. how fiercely they cared for one another, how he was always there, how she loved him, how it was always him. if it was one person she could choose, over and over again, it was luke.

but he was gone. just like that.

y/n had been in there for so long her fingers were wrinkled, and the water had turned a numbing coolness. she forced herself to get out, thanking to god that none of her roommates were home, knowing how pissed they’d be about her water usage.

she changed into sweatpants first, then begrudgingly putting on one of luke’s sweatshirts, a dark blue crewneck that read “michigan hockey” across it. y/n knew it would hurt to wear it, but she wanted any bit of luke left she could have.

about 10 minutes had passed, y/n was combing through her slightly damp hair, when she heard a knock at the door.

she went up to answer it, thinking one of her roommates was back and had just forgotten their key.

instead, y/n was met with a clearly unwell luke. his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, lips resting in a frown, all resting on a somber face to top it all off.

she felt like she was hallucinating. that she was in a dream, that her body was going to twitch and bring her back down to earth, back to reality. back to sitting down combing her hair, luke nowhere in sight.

they said nothing but everything at the same time. their expressions exactly matched, but still not quite knowing what the other was thinking.

“luke,” she breathed out, his name in the air barely above a whisper. y/n’s eyes fluttered, the emotions coming in like they never did before.

“can i come in, please?” his voice cracked, his expression pleading her to come in more than his words did.

she nodded, moving out of the way so he could step in. she sat over to walk on the couch, adding a pillow to her lap, hoping luke wasn’t able to see her body shaking and riddled with anxiety at his presence. but also comfort, and hope.

“why are you here luke?” y/n asked, demanding to know why he randomly showed up, after weeks of silence between them.

he ran his hands through his curls, biting his lip harshly before delivering his answer, “i need to be honest, i needed to tell the truth to you.”

“i thought you did that when we talked in the locker room,” she hissed, “all of that sounded pretty truthful to me.”

she didn’t want to rude, but how could he say that after practically punching her in the gut that day?

“no, you don’t understand,” he kneeled down to her level, unable to control the shaky hands that he brought up to hold his head in.

“then help me understand luke,” y/n voice was much softer this time, chest throbbing with pain seeing luke in more distress than she has ever seen him in.

“i was scared,” he said in a short breath, teardrops painting his cheeks, “i was scared after what we did because i thought it meant nothing to you, that we were just drunk. that you would tell me that you regret what we did, but i didn’t. not once.”

her gaze bounced between his hazel eyes, shocked at the news he was telling her. his face didn’t relax once, as he continued his truth, “i’m so in love with you y/n. i’m so scared you don’t feel the same way. i care about you, i need you, i feel so fucking…so fucking lost when you’re not there. nothing has felt the same.”

“i should’ve told you the truth, and i’m sorry.” his voice cracked again, and now luke was in full on sobs.

y/n could say nothing yet, still in shock, now again feeling like she was hallucinating. she opened her arms, and luke sat down on the couch with her and came crashing in.

he buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms tightly wrapped around her, terrified that if he let go she would be gone again. he cried into her, taking in her scent, her warm skin, her gentle touch, all of which he missed dearly.

“i love you, luke. i love you, i should’ve said it sooner,” y/n felt the pain that had accumulated for weeks begin to disappear in minutes with luke, the only ailment to her sickness. he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers with closed eyes.

“we both should’ve said it sooner, i’m so sorry y/n. i cant let you go. not now, not ever,” he held her tighter than ever, shifting his head to plant a soft kiss on her forhead.

she cupped his face in her hands, seeing him look at her with so much love made her stomach flutter.

“you have me luke, always.”

that’s when he kissed her. it was night and day between the first time their lips met. the first was new, lustful, wavering in its stability. this time, it was familiar, warm and feeling like they both could go on like this forever. their lips moved in perfect harmony, y/n crawling atop luke’s lap to bring herself as close to him as she possibly could.

they just barely pulled away, desperately needing to catch their breaths.

“now you’re never getting rid of me lu,” she giggled,

“wouldn’t even dream of it,” luke said, laying her down on the couch in her fit of giggles, peppering sweet kisses all over her face.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[mmso-notlikethat]

for a fic prompt, what about primary school teacher tommy and single dad buck meet-cute 🥺🫶

you probably forgot about this, but just so you know Alex started here 😶‍🌫️ Also uh it got to more than just a meet-cute

Also on AO3

“Dad, we’re gonna be late!” Alex exclaimed, his small hands tugging at the blanket Buck had pulled over his head. His six-year-old energy was relentless as he hopped on the bed, shaking his dad's shoulder.

Buck groaned dramatically, burrowing further into the covers. “Five more minutes, buddy,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he rolled onto his stomach. “Late for what? School doesn’t even start until next week”

“It starts today!” Alex huffed, climbing onto Buck’s back. “You promised you’d wake up early so I wouldn’t be late! My teacher’s gonna think I’m the kid with the lazy dad!”

That got Buck’s attention. He peeked out from under the blanket, grinning. “Lazy, huh? You’re pretty brave, calling me names when I’m this close to tickling you.”

Alex gasped, trying to back away, but Buck was too fast. With a playful growl, he lunged, wrapping his arms around Alex and tackling him onto the bed. “You think you can just insult me and get away with it?”

“Dad! Nooo!” Alex shrieked between bursts of laughter as Buck’s fingers attacked his sides. “I’m serious! We really are gonna be late!”

Buck finally let him go, sitting up and ruffling Alex’s bedhead. “Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you to school before your teacher thinks your dad’s a total slacker”

Alex hopped off the bed, already halfway to the kitchen. “You better not make me late, Dad!” he called over his shoulder.

I.

Buck knew mornings were a battlefield, but nothing prepared him for the chaos of getting his son, to his new school on time. He prepared almost everything the night before—laid out clothes, packed the lunch, even double-checked Alex’s backpack—but somehow, chaos still found a way. Between trying to locate Alex’s missing sneaker (it had somehow ended up in the fridge) and making sure the snack he packed met the “no nuts, no sugar” rule, Buck was already sweating before 8 a.m.

“See? Right on time,” Buck said triumphantly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Alex, however, was already halfway out of his seat. “Barely,” he muttered, clutching a slightly crumpled drawing of a fire truck—his pride and joy—ready to show off on his first day.

“Hey, cut your old man some slack,” Buck called after him, grabbing Alex’s backpack from the passenger seat and jogging to catch up as his son bolted toward the school entrance.

The chaos didn’t stop at the school gate. As Buck jogged to catch up with Alex, the coffee cup in his hand wobbled dangerously. He didn’t even notice the man walking out of the classroom until it was too late.

Hot coffee sloshed out of the cup as Buck collided with someone tall and solid, soaking the other man’s neatly pressed shirt.

“Oh, crap—sorry, sorry, sorry!” Buck blurted, immediately trying to dab at the man’s chest with the sleeve of his own hoodie.

The man held up a hand, smiling despite the situation. “It’s okay! I’ve survived worse—though maybe not before 9 a.m.”

Buck stopped mid-dab, his apology dying on his lips as he looked up into bright blue eyes. The guy was gorgeous. Clean-cut, tall, and with the kind of easy smile that could probably calm a room full of screaming kids.

“I—uh—sorry again,” Buck stammered. “First day at a new school, and we’re already making enemies.”

The man chuckled, glancing down at his shirt. “It’s just coffee. Nothing a spare shirt won’t fix.” He held out a hand. “I’m Tommy Kinard, the first-grade teacher.”

Buck blinked, taking his hand. “Oh. Wow. Great. Yeah—uh—I’m Buck— Buckley. Uh—Evan... Buckley. Alex’s dad.” he said, pointing over his shoulder toward Alex.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Buck’s flustered demeanor. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Buckley. Alex seems to be settling in just fine—he’s already making friends.”

Buck glanced at Alex, who was already chatting animatedly with another kid across the room. “Well, at least one of us is thriving.”

Tommy smiled. “You’re doing fine. First days are always an adventure. Just maybe avoid coffee collisions next time,” he said, his eyes flicking briefly to their still-clasped hands before meeting Buck’s gaze again.

Buck suddenly realized he was still gripping Tommy’s hand and quickly released it, his ears burning. “Oh! Uh, sorry about that.”

Tommy’s smile widened, clearly amused.

“Fair point—about the coffee! And, uh, if you ever need someone to return the favor and spill coffee on your enemies, I’m your guy,” Buck added, trying to recover.

Tommy tilted his head, his nose scrunching with his smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Tommy turned back toward the classroom, Buck exhaled shakily, his breath hitching as he muttered to himself, Oh boy.

II.

Buck had barely recovered from the coffee incident when he found himself nervously adjusting his shirt in the mirror for Parent-Teacher Night. It wasn’t like him to care this much about his appearance, but something about Tommy—Mr. Kinard, he corrected himself—had stuck with him.

As Buck stepped into the brightly decorated classroom, he immediately spotted Tommy. He was standing by a bulletin board covered in colorful artwork, smiling as he spoke to another parent. Buck’s stomach did a weird little flip.

“Mr. Buckley,” Tommy greeted warmly as he finished up his conversation and approached. “Good to see you again. No coffee this time?”

Buck chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not today. Figured I’d avoid the risk.”

Tommy smiled. “Smart choice. Alex has been settling in really well, by the way. He’s a great kid.”

“Thanks,” Buck said, his chest swelling with pride. “He loves it here—and he won’t stop talking about you, by the way. ‘Mr. Kinard is so cool. Mr. Kinard can draw fire trucks better than me.’”

Tommy laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I’m glad to know I’ve impressed him. Though I think his fire truck skills might outshine mine soon.”

As they chatted, Buck shifted nervously, trying to look relaxed. But in his fidgeting, he bumped into a small table holding a stack of construction paper and art supplies, sending them toppling to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Oh, no,” Buck groaned, crouching down immediately to try and fix the mess. “Sorry—sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Tommy crouched down beside him, biting back a smile as his shoulder brushed against Buck’s. “It’s fine, really. Happens all the time. These tables are magnets for chaos.”

Buck glanced up, meeting Tommy’s amused gaze, his face flushing. “I swear I’m usually more coordinated.”

Tommy chuckled, handing him a pile of papers. “You’re doing fine, Mr. Buckley. Though I might have to ban you from coffee and art supplies.”

They both laughed, the tension easing as they stood. They chatted for a few more minutes after that, Buck feeling more at ease with every word. By the time the evening ended, Buck was walking out of the school with a smile he couldn’t quite shake—and a lingering warmth from the way Tommy’s shoulder had felt against his.

III.

A week later, Buck was rushing back to the school, Alex’s forgotten math worksheet clutched in his hand. He burst into the office, breathless and slightly disheveled, his shirt untucked on one side and his hair sticking up in a way that suggested he’d been running his hands through it all morning.

Tommy was already there, sitting behind the counter with a mug of tea. He looked up, and his smile widened when he saw Buck.

“Mr. Buckley,” Tommy said, his voice tinged with laughter. “In a hurry?”

Buck groaned, straightening his shirt with one hand while clutching the worksheet in the other. Of course it’s you who’ll see me like this, he muttered under his breath, low enough that he thought Tommy wouldn’t hear.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “What was that?”

Buck flushed. “Oh, uh, nothing. Just… Alex forgot his homework,” he said, holding up the crumpled paper as evidence. “I had a long shift last night—barely managed to get him to school on time this morning—and I was about to crash when I noticed the homework on the counter and—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “—you don’t want to hear that. Sorry.”

Tommy stood, taking the worksheet from him. “Actually, I don’t mind,” he said, his voice calm and genuine. “It’s not every day I get to hear about someone pulling off the superhero double shift—saving lives and making sure forgotten homework gets to school. Alex has a pretty awesome dad.”

Buck let out a breathless laugh, his face heating up. “I don’t know about awesome… but thanks.”

Tommy smiled, his tone light as he added, “Seriously, you’re doing great. Alex talks about you all the time—it’s obvious how much he looks up to you. I’ll make sure he gets this.”

The compliment caught Buck off guard, and he found himself stumbling over his words. “Oh, I—I just try not to screw up too much.”

“You’re doing fine,” Tommy said, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Though I have to say, Mr. Buckley, you do have a knack for keeping things interesting.”

Buck blinked, momentarily speechless. Then, with a slightly awkward chuckle, he added, “You can just call me Evan, by the way. ‘Mr. Buckley’ makes me feel old.”

Tommy’s eyes twinkled. “Evan it is.”

As Buck left the school, still red-faced and brushing his hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite the chaos of the morning, there was a lingering warmth in his chest—and a growing determination to get to know Tommy better.

IV.

When the school’s fall fair rolled around, Buck found himself roped into volunteering after Alex came home with a flyer and an excited plea. Buck agreed, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to pitch in—and, if he was being honest (which he wasn’t), he was also hoping to see Tommy again.

Buck signed up to contribute to the bake sale, spending the evening before the fair elbow-deep in flour and sugar. By the time the fair kicked off, his table was piled high with cookies, brownies, and pumpkin bread, all neatly arranged and drawing plenty of attention.

Sure enough, Buck spotted Tommy running the face-painting booth. Alex insisted on getting a firefighter painted on his cheek, and Tommy obliged with steady hands and an artistic flair that left Buck impressed.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Buck said as Tommy finished, his gaze lingering on the neat little firetruck.

Tommy glanced up, smiling. “Multitasking is part of the job. Though I’m not sure my painting skills are gallery-worthy.”

“Well, Alex looks thrilled, so I’d say you’re doing great,” Buck replied, watching his son beam at his reflection in the mirror Tommy handed him.

Later in the afternoon, they crossed paths at the bake sale. Tommy stopped by Buck’s table, raising an eyebrow at the neat array of treats. “Wow. Did you make all of this?” he asked, picking up a cookie.

“Guilty,” Buck said with a grin. “I figured I’d try to help out—and Alex swore my cookies would sell out.”

Tommy took a bite, his eyes widening slightly. “Okay, these are really good. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Buckley.”

“Evan,” Buck corrected, his grin widening. “And thanks. Coming from the guy who paints flawless firetrucks, I’ll take it.”

Tommy chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at the growing line of kids waiting at his booth. “Well, my clients are building up. Better get back before they riot.”

“Good luck,” Buck said with a laugh as Tommy waved and headed off.

Some time later, a commotion near the tug-of-war game caught Buck’s attention. Tommy was helping referee, holding the rope as a group of kids giggled and yanked on the other end. It was clear he wasn’t pulling too hard, letting the kids think they had the upper hand.

But then, with an enthusiastic pull, the rope slipped from his grasp, snapping against his hand. Tommy winced, letting out a soft “Ow,” as he instinctively shook his hand.

“Everything okay over there?” Buck asked, already making his way over.

Tommy looked up, his ears pink. “Just a little mishap. I didn’t want to yank too hard and send them flying, but they got a little too into it.”

“Let me see,” Buck said, reaching for Tommy’s hand. When Tommy hesitated, Buck raised an eyebrow. “Come on. Let the firefighter take a look.”

Tommy sighed but extended his hand. “It’s really nothing—just another day surviving the battlefield of a school fair.”

Buck smirked, gently turning Tommy’s hand over. There was a faint red mark on his palm, and Buck’s thumb brushed over it lightly. “You’re gonna live, but I think you’ll survive this with your reputation intact.”

Tommy’s lips quirked into a dry smile. “Good to know, Doctor Buckley. Should I get a lollipop for being brave?”

Buck laughed, releasing Tommy’s hand. “Depends—do you want me to write you a note to get out of face-painting duty too?”

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “Tempting, but I think I’ll soldier on.”

Before Buck could reply, a small voice interrupted them. One of the kids from the tug-of-war group had approached, his big eyes teary as he looked up at Tommy. “Mr. Kinard? Are you okay? We’re sorry.”

Tommy’s expression softened immediately. He crouched down, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I’m fine, kiddo. Just be careful, okay? And watch out for your friends, too.”

The boy nodded, sniffling as Tommy smiled warmly. Buck stood back, quietly observing the moment, a small smile tugging at his lips.

As Tommy stood up, brushing his hands off, he gave Buck a look. “I think that officially makes me a tug-of-war casualty. Should I get a medal?”

Buck chuckled. “How about some hot choco instead? Seems like a safer bet.”

By the end of the day, Buck and Alex found themselves at the hot chocolate stand, where Tommy offered them steaming cups. Tommy handed Alex’s cup over first, crouching slightly to meet the boy’s excited grin. “For the hardest-working kid at the fair,” Tommy said with a wink.

“Thanks, Mr. Kinard!” Alex chirped, taking the cup carefully with both hands.

Tommy straightened and handed Buck his cup next. “And for the guy who apparently doubles as my personal first responder,” he added lightly, their fingers brushing briefly as Buck took the cup.

“Thanks,” Buck said, feeling a warmth spread through him—not just from the hot chocolate. For a moment, their eyes met, and Buck thought he saw something unspoken in Tommy’s gaze.

Alex interrupted the moment, taking a careful sip and humming in approval. “This is the best hot chocolate, Dad! Right?”

“It’s pretty great,” Buck agreed, smiling down at Alex before glancing back at Tommy.

As they lingered there for a moment longer, Buck decided the fall fair had been well worth the effort.

V.

A month later, during pick-up, Buck arrived at the school later than usual, his steps hurried as he made his way to the playground. A call at work had held him up unexpectedly, and he hadn’t been able to send anyone else to get Alex. He spotted Alex and Tommy laughing together near the swings, and the tension in his chest eased slightly.

As Buck approached, Alex looked up and ran toward him. “Dad! You’re late!” he said, crossing his arms in exaggerated frustration.

Buck crouched down, ruffling Alex’s hair as he unbuckled his backpack from the fence. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry. I got caught up at work.”

Alex huffed but let himself be buckled into the car seat, his earlier frustration giving way to excitement as he started rambling about his day. Buck sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to Tommy.

“I keep messing things up with him,” Buck said, shaking his head. “Sorry about this.”

Tommy shook his head quickly, his expression soft. “Don’t worry, Evan,” he said, then hesitated, glancing at Alex. “You were working. I got yo—him.” He corrected himself with a small smile, his ears turning slightly pink.

Buck chuckled softly, the apology and correction taking the edge off his guilt. Tommy must have noticed, and he leaned against the side of the fence, trying to lighten the mood.

“Alex was just telling me about your firehouse,” Tommy said, his tone casual. “It sounds like you’ve got some pretty cool stories.”

“Oh, plenty,” Buck said, grinning. “Maybe I’ll share a few someday.”

Tommy tilted his head, his expression playful. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Buck stood there for a moment, shifting on his feet, reluctant to leave. Finally, he mustered the courage to ask, “Hey, would you want to grab coffee sometime? You know, somewhere that doesn’t involve spilling it all over you?”

Tommy’s smile widened. “Only if you promise to stop calling me ‘Mr. Kinard. It’s Tommy—and yeah, I’d like that.”

[phant0mth1ef]

now i’m in exile seeing you out. pt. 3

-

you didn’t show up to the spot bakugou had wanted you to meet him at, although you had made it to the city, but the moment you actually saw him sitting inside with a cup of hot chocolate, his large hands covering both sides of the mug as he stared into it.

the girls from ua highschool had befriended you during the licensing exam, seeking you out in the anteroom after you’d saved them from shindo at the start, shooting pieces of terrain up to catch them so they wouldn’t hit the earth as hard before you’d ran off to go deal with the source of the vibrations.

since then, you’d all grown much closer to each other, and they started inviting you over to their dorm so that you could all hang out and gossip, of course, they didn’t know about your history with their resident class hothead.

“what about you, y/n? have you got a boyfriend back at shiketsu? we heard that bald boy saying someone liked you at the exam!” hagakure may have been invisible, but that doesn’t mean she missed anything when she was at the exam.

“sorry to disappoint, but no, shiketsu has a no fraternizing policy. i can’t even go to inasa or shishikura’s dorm.” you spoke with a small smile on your face as the girls groaned, itching for some romance.

almost as if on cue, the fridge in the kitchen shut to reveal a blonde boy in a skull t-shirt, grabbing a variety of different vegetables and a cutting baord before the quiet sounds of chopping were heard in the next room.

“it sucks that bakugou’s so mean! he’s hot.” once again, hagakure chose to speak up silently as the other girls quietly agreed, even you nodded.

“say, y/n. why don’t we set you up with someone in our class?” mina had a naturally loud voice, so bakugou couldn’t help but raise his head up once he caught a portion of your conversation.

“no thank you. i’m not really looking for anyone at the moment.” he could almost picture the embarassed smile on your features, afraid to admit to them that you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

“come onn, i’m sure you’d be great with someone like todoroki or iida.” his knuckles were beginning to turn white as he almost cut himself with the knife, no way was half n’ half getting to you before he did.

when he start thinking sappy shit like that?

“they’re both really nice and sweet, but honestly i’m not really looking for anyone.” the blush on your face just grew redder, exposing your true feelings to the girls as they all shared a knowing grin with one another.

the topic was eventually dropped and you all begun to watch a movie, the silent sounds of someone rummaging around the kitchen were accompanying the sounds coming from the tv screen.

halfway through, a head was popped through the doorway.

“dinner’s ready! get it while it’s hot. or don’t. i don’t care.” you’d never really seen this side of katsuki before, the side that’s always angry at the world no matter what.

you were used to the katsuki that would calmly tell you about his day as you both either studied or did homework, the katsuki that would hold doors open for you, the katsuki that would always prioritize your safety over his.

the girls quickly pulled you into the kitchen, much to your dismay as you tried to tell them that it was okay and you really should’ve been going by now.

“this all looks so yummy! what’re you gonna get, y/n?” uraraka turned to you with a bowl in her hand as you politely waved the bowl away.

“oh no thank you, i’m not hungry right now.” you were hungry. matter of fact you hadn’t eaten all day, but you weren’t trying to overstay your welcome, nor were you trying to stay in the same place as bakugou for too long.

you could feel his eyes glaring daggers into the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to telepathically talk to you.

“you need to eat, dumbass.”

it was like his voice kept playing on repeat in your mind ever since the day you and him had talked at the training session. or well since the day you talked and he just stood frozen like a statue.

“i should get going now before it gets too dark. thank you for inviting me over!” you spoke hurriedly as you quickly left to grab your shoes and leave, a part of your excuse was true, it was getting dark.

“you forgot this!” you froze in your spot where you stood just outside of the ua dorm building, what could you have possibly forgotten?

bakugou stood there, a small smile on his face as his whole body relaxed, he knew he could be himself around you. even if you were currently mad at him.

he held out your sweater.

“seriously? that’s what you have to say to me? keep the damn sweater.” you scoffed before quickly turning on your heels, walking away as he stood there holding the bundle of polyester in his hands.

the next time you’d hung out with the girls from ua, you had invited them over to your dorm for a change, although you didn’t have a common room, so you were all forced to huddle together in your room which thankfully was not small and had sufficient space.

the girls took a few minutes to glance at things, rummaging through your drawers to see what your style was, looking at the books you had, and it seemed as if they all stopped once they’d seen a photo frame hidden behind a few stacks of paper.

the most ill-tempered guy they knew was smiling, a genuine smile as he held up a peace sign with one arm around you, your expression mirroring his face.

they chose to ignore it, because to be fair, if you wanted them to know that you and bakugou were friends, you would’ve told them.

asui was a bit oblivious though, and rather blunt so when she spoke up, you tried to not take any offense.

“you know bakugou?” the rest of the girls looked at her, almost if they were trying to tell her to shut up.

“yes. we grew up together.” you smiled, although you weren’t really feeling like talking about how you don’t talk anymore.

“do you still talk?” and there was the winning question.

you sighed and explained to them what had happened between you both, opting to just tell them because the truth would come out soon anyway.

“and he hasn’t apologized??” momo was the first to start talking again.

“no. and i don’t know what to do because if i reach out now it’s basically telling him that it doesn’t matter what he does and that i’ll just automatically forgive him.”

mina was on her phone, simultaneously texting kirishima about what was happening as he did the same.

“okay wait, so if he had like wanted to apologize, would you listen?” mina got serious out of nowhere, stuffing her phone into her back pocket.

“i mean he tried to talk with me a week ago, but i couldn’t like do that yet, like emotionally.” they just nodded as you sat in silence for a bit.

“i think i’m ready to try and forgive him now. i hope i’m ready. i miss him.”

once they’d gone home and you’d gotten ready for bed, you laid down to begin your mindless scrolls through social media, not realizing the hour it was.

[2:42 AM]

[kats💥🫂] you awake?

[you] what

[kats💥🫂] i want to talk. like an actual conversation where we sit down and talk like adults.

normally you wouldn’t give him the time of day, but the boy was usually lights out by 8:30 pm everyday, so you decided to hear him out.

[you] okay. when?

[kats💥🫂] tomorrow? please. um we’re sort of training till 6 pm-ish. can you stop by the dorms?

[you] ok.

tags: @itgetzweird08 @ch3rryjampi3 @riverozada @lechilankikyou-blog @lupitalove

[aakeysmash]

bakugou taking care of you when you're on your period but not in a "omg my cramps hurt so bad" way but in a "i am literally gonna throw up" way

thought i’d change it up and make him the one who gags lol. thank you for this ask bb, even if it is indeed from MONTHS ago……..

he enters the bathroom and gags. you’re changing your pad with the door open, because it’s nothing he didn’t already see a million times.

“hello to you too, boyfriend,” you huff annoyed. your cramps have been killing you all night, and seeing a man (even if it is the boyfriend you have been living with the past three years) makes you feel an indescribable rage. these are the only moments you truly wish you had a dick instead of an uterus.

he clears his throat, but his scowl stays. he knows you tend to be a little bit more moody the first few days of your period, but the sight of your blood outside of your body makes him feel nauseous.

“hi. i’m gonna go. catch ya later,” he rushes out before bolting out of the door towards your kitchen. you sigh, shaking your head. you think by now he’d understand you’re not being brutally killed even if he sees a little red on you, but the pro hero in him doesn’t want to acknowledge this.

you get back to the living room and cover yourself with your soft blanket, trying to sleep a little. it’s your day off from the office, so it’s not like you’re missing anything: being your boyfriend’s assistant has its perks. you feel a warm hand softly caressing your forehead, which is the only thing peeking out from the giant blanket.

“tea?” katsuki asks. you know this is his way of caring. you hum.

“hurts?” he asks again, and you hum for the second time.

you hear him walking away and pouring the hot water he already prepared in advance in case you wanted to drink something warm. you hear the gentle pit-pat of his slippers coming back to the sofa, and you sit up to reach for the cup in his hand.

“i want to curl up in a ball and die,” you mutter before taking a sip.

“you always say this,” he responds, sitting down next to you.

“and i mean it,” you sassily say, looking at him with your brows furrowed. he kisses your forehead, smirking.

“no you don’t,” he chuckles. you playfully shove him.

“i’m sorry for staining the sheets. i promise i’ll wash them once the ibuprofen kicks in,” you sheepishly say, laying your head on his shoulder.

you feel the shiver that runs up his spine. “no use. sleep, i’ll make lunch. i asked eijirou to cover for me today,” he answers before kissing your forehead again and getting up.

“you know i love you, right?” you sigh, laying down and managing to fall asleep in 30 seconds.

you wake up because you feel a big thud in the bathroom. you groggily walk toward it and you find katsuki kneeling down in front of your bathtub. he's the palest you've ever seen him be.

"are you okay?" you ask him, worried he might have hurt himself, maybe by slipping on one of the many puddles of water across the floor.

"i'm fine, fuck. it's just a little blood, why am i acting like such a pussy," he snaps. you're confused, before realizing he's holding onto the sheets from last night. a laugh bubbles inside you and you try to force it down, but he notices it and scowls.

"i did this for you and you're laughing at me?" he looks down at the slightly bloody water in front of him and sits down on the wet floor. "i feel like i might pass the fuck out, no joke," he grunts, closing his eyes and taking big breaths.

you burst out laughing. "i could've done this, you know?" you say between chuckles, kneeling down to take over. he grunts again, muttering something alongside "i wanted to do something nice for you."

the day after you finish your period, you're sitting next to each other on your bed.

"so you find me disgusting, huh?" you tease him, still remembering how he had to lay down for 30 minutes to regain color in his face.

he rolls his eyes, flicking your forehead. "looking at your blood is one of the few things that makes me want to gauge my eyes out. apart from tasting that stupid egg mix my mom gave us the other day," he barks out. you laugh.

"y'know, there's a way to end this," he says in your ear.

you look up with a questioning gaze.

"isn't it time to have a baby?"

[miniwheat77]

Smash. (dbf!Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, heeeeeefty age gap (reader is 21, Price is 47), teasing, daddy kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining, this is filthy age gap Smut and you’ve been warned. (Sorry if I missed any.)

Summary: Captain Price is your dads best friend and you’ve been crushing on him since you were a little girl.

I know this isn’t a request but I’m procrastinating :)

“Oh come on sweet pea, you haven’t been home for a family barbecue in three years now!” Your dad begs you on the phone. You’ve been off at college for three whole years. You haven’t made too much time to come visit, but there’s a reason for that.

Your step mom.

She’s awful. Uses your dad for his money, cheats on him constantly. At this point, you think she’s just a cover for something. You sigh, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. But you better keep your hound on a leash.” You groan. “Hey. Be nice Y/N.” He rolls his eyes on the other end of the phone. “She doesn’t show her teeth, I don’t bite.” You smile cheekily. He can’t see it, but he can hear it. “Oh lord. What I would do without you.” He laughs. “Live a happy, stress free life.” You giggle. He laughs on the other end. “I’ll see you on Saturday sweet pea. Don’t forget, we had a pool put in since you last came, don’t forget your bathing suit!” He smiles. “Alright dad, I’ll be there. Love you, bye.” You laugh as you hang up the phone.

“That girl, gonna be the death of me.” Your dad smiles as he hangs up the phone. He’s sitting at a table with his best friend of twenty plus years, Captain John Price. “Is that Y/N?” He smiles. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to get her to come home for the barbecue this weekend. Finally got her to agree.” He laughs. John nods his head, taking a drink of his beer. “Haven’t seen that girl in ages.” He smiles. “You’ll see her this Saturday. She’s been nothing but a pain in my ass for these last few years. Since she was 17, I think.” He laughs. “How so? I don’t have any kids so I don’t really know how they work.” John laughs. “Oh boy. She’s just a young woman. Moody, bossy. The girl has been boy crazy since she was 15.” He laughs. Placing a hand over his face. “Absolutely hates her step mom. Every time they’re both in the same room together I just want to strangle them both.” He rolls his eyes, tipping his beer up. “Although these last couple years she’s been super wild. Going out drinking, getting herself into trouble. I’ve seen more than 2 boys on her stupid Instagram she doesn’t know that I know about.” He sighs. John nods. “You think you were maybe too strict with her?” He asks. “Probably. But you live and you learn I guess.” He laughs. John finishes lthe rest of his beer.

You turn the wheel toward the parking lot of your apartment complex. It’s only about 30 minutes away from where your dad is, but you’ve been busy with school. Your car comes to a halt as you climb out, gathering all of your items and heading upstairs to your room. You pick up your phone, dialing your best friends number. “Hey.” You smile. “Hey Y/N, what’s up?” She asks. “You know how I’ve told you about the family barbecue’s I’ve had in the past?” You say. “Oh. You mean the one day a year you spend ogling at your dads best friend that I’ve heard alllll about?” She chuckles, making you blush. “Yeah, my dad convinced me to go and they installed a pool last year. So.. we need to go bathing suit shopping.” You mumble. “Is this finally the year?” She smirks. “Hopefully. You should come with me, get a good look at him.” You smile. “Alright. I’m down. I’ll come get you in 20 for the mall.” You smile. “Okay.” After saying your goodbye’s, you hang up.

When she arrives, you gather up everything you need, walking down the old metal stairs to your apartment. Feeling them buckle underneath you slightly, yeah the apartment you lived in wasn’t too up to date. But it was nice.

Your dad was really strict, and this time you’d spent away at college had been the most fun you’ve ever had. He wasn’t monitoring your every move, couldn’t tell you what to do 24/7, and you could come and go anytime you wanted. No curfew. Maybe it had to do with your dad being a retired military man. But he was strict and sometimes he could get a little mean. Everyone knew it, and nobody was surprised when you left. You open the door to her car, sitting down and closing the door after you pull your leg in. You put your seatbelt on and start talking about anything random as she pulls out of your apartment complex to head toward the mall. The drive is pretty short, it passes by incredibly quick because of the small talk you’re making. She pulls into the parking lot and the both of you make your way inside to your favorite stores.

When you finish shopping, you make your way into the food court, choosing what you want to eat. Eventually, the both of you are just sitting down at a small table. Listening to everyone else talking around you.

“So what’s so special about this guy anyways Hm? How old is he?” You blush at her question. “Oh god. How old is he?!” She laughs. “47.” You mumble. “Jesus! He’s older than your dad!” She laughs. “Yeah I know. And.. I don’t know. Ever since I was old enough to understand what a crush was, it was always him.” You shrug. She smiles. “Even still?” She asks. “Yeah. I’ve had one boyfriend that lasted like 2 months. That’s it.” You smirk. Taking a bite of your food. She smiles. “Because you’ve been so in love with this guy? Shit. You were legal 3 years ago, why didn’t you try sooner?” She asks. “When I was 18 I got into a big fight with my dad and I haven’t been home since.” You laugh. She nods her head. “Gotcha.”

“Also not to mention he’s a Captain in the Military.” You laugh. Her eyes widen. “Damn. I don’t know him but I’m in love with him too.” She laughs. “You will be.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

—

The day of the Barbecue approached fast, and your best friend canceled on you because she was sick. You were driving alone, nervous. Anxious to see John again. Your stomach was curled up, waves of nervousness shooting through you. You hadn’t gotten over these feelings that you’d had for him for a long time, you thought you would. But now? You were convinced they’d never go away. At this point you knew it was more than just a dumb crush, but admitting that meant defeat and you wouldn’t yet. You wouldn’t cave just yet. As a little girl you dreamt of him day and night. Never boys your age, not even in high school when you hit puberty and had a crush on everyone. Nobody stuck. Nobody but John. Your dads best friend who was completely out of your reach.

You pulled into the driveway and noticed cars already in the driveway, pulling up as close to the car in front of you as possible. You hop out, deep breath leaving your lips as you start for the backyard where you could hear everyone. You open the gate, the loud creak that it makes gives away your arrival and all eyes are on you. There’s nothing but silence for a minute until your dad hollers that you’re here. He rushes over and gives you a hug and a lot of the already tipsy women start commenting on how much you’ve grown up, how you’re a woman now and not just a kid. When you’re done being bombarded by everyone, you spot John sitting in a lawn chair, beer in his hand. “Come on sweetheart. I’ll show you what we got to drink.” Your dad smiles. You dig through the cooler and end up grabbing a beer. You’d need the liquid courage to get you through this entire day. You followed your dad over to where he’s sitting and smile at John. “Hey Kiddo.” John smiles. “Hey John. How are you?” You smile. “I’m good. You?”

“Good. Just going to school.” You blush. He’s so perfect. So fucking attractive. You just want to jump him right in front of everyone here. You talk a little more with him before your dad calls him away from you to talk about something else with the grill.

You get caught up in conversation with a few other women there, avoiding your step-mom like she’s the plague.

—

A sigh leaves your lips. You’re sitting at a table inside, drinking a beer. You’ve had a little too much to drink, feeling a little tipsy. Everyone is already passed out or gone home. Tonight did not go the way you wanted it to go. You wanted to talk to John more. Wanted so badly to get to know him more. You’ve pretty much given up on it. Sure he’s probably already gone home for the night. You hear the sliding glass door open and your step-mom walks in. “Y/N. Will you please go keep John company? Your dad is drunk and I need to take him to bed.” You nod your head. Those are the first words she’s spoken to you all day. You stand up, going out to the back yard. There’s an older woman, her husband, and John left. “Hey sweetheart.” She smiles. “Hey.” You smile. You sit on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water. John is in the pool and she’s laying on the concrete. “Howcome you’re here all alone sweets?” He asks. “Oh.. I don’t know. I invited a friend to come but she wasn’t feeling too good.” You explain. She nods. “You don’t gotta boyfriend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god no.” You laugh. She looks at you. “Why’s that?”

“I’m surrounded by college guys, not exactly a fan.” You smile. John is listening, intrigued. “Your dad keeps talking about the boys on your secret Instagram.” She smiles. “Secret?” You smile. “I don’t have a secret Instagram.” You laugh. “Oh, he talks about it.” She smiles. You look confused. “Weird. The only guys I have on there are friends.” You laugh. “Just friends?” You nod your head. “Yeah. I need to take down those pictures down actually.” You laugh. “Why’s that?” She smiles. “They always pretend to be my friends and than they get weird. Catch feelings or something.” You laugh. “It’s cause you’re a real pretty girl. They probably just want a piece.” She smiles. “It’s always after they find out I’m a Virgin.” You mumble. John almost chokes on his bourbon that he has, eyes widening. His body is rigid. She laughs. “Wow. That’s actually kind’ve impressive.” She smiles.

After talking a little more, she drags her husband home. Leaving you and John alone. Something that makes your stomach flutter. “The advice she was giving you. Don’t take it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You look up at him. “She.. is a little..” he waves his finger by his ear. You giggle. He notices the way you react to him. “You’re a real pretty girl you know? Don’t rush into anything. Find a guy who will treat you right.” He nods. You nod your head. You pull your shirt off, sliding into the water. You give him a good view of your bathing suit. “Can I ask you for some advice?” You bite your bottom lip. He nods his head. “Yeah, Cmere.” He nods his head. You swim closer to him, leaning up against the wall where he’s sitting. “What’s up?” He asks. You sigh. “Do you think I’m immature?” You ask. He narrows his eyes. “No. I don’t think so at all. I think you’re actually pretty mature for your age.” He smiles. You nod your head. “Why?” He asks. “Well.. I like this guy but.. he’s quite a bit older than me.” You blush. “How much older?” He asks.

“I don’t know if I should say..” you blush. “No older than your dad I hope.” He chuckles. You look down, crimson creeping up your cheeks. His eyes widen and he coughs on his liquor. “Jesus- how much older?” He asks, wiping his face. “Few years..” you mumble. “Older than me?” He asks. “Around the same age I think.” You breathe. “Just… don’t tell my dad on me, please?” You bite your lip nervously. He laughs, looking down. “What the hell do you want with a guy my age anyways? Do I know him?” He asks. You blush, looking down. “Yeah. Pretty well actually. I’ve liked him for a while.” You breathe. He laughs. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes. He runs a hand over his facial hair, seeing the way that the water drips off of him has you clenching your thighs together. “You have any advice?” You say nervously. He looks down. “Don’t go for it.” He laughs. “Hm?” You say. “Men my age will only take advantage of you.” You’ve moved closer and closer to him. “Would you take advantage of me?” You swallow hard, looking up at him. The way you look up at him is far from innocent. “I-“ he freezes. “John?” You whisper. “Yeah?”

You swallow hard. “Would you?” You breathe. He looks down. You’ve crept even closer to him, and when you’re right in front of him, he’s losing his mind. You breathe. His eyes widen and he’s silent for a minute. He sets his glass down, reaching his hands out and grasping your hips. He pins you to the concrete wall of the pool, hand resting on your throat. “You’re a good girl. Such a good girl, you don’t need to be with a guy my age.” He breathes. You whimper, tilting your head back. The way that you react to him shows him more than he needs. He moves his hips closer to yours and you clutch his sides for dear life, whimpering out when he ruts his hips into yours. He spins you around, until you’re leant over the pool wall. Crying out when he tugs on your hair. “Who is it darlin?” He breathes. “Because the way you’re reacting to me…” he trails offs. You’re panting out, he’d thrown you for a curveball. Sending you straight into a daze. “Use your words love.” He growls. The feel of his hips pressing into you, his hands on you. “It’s you- since I was a kid-“ you pant. Your eyes are watering, wanting so badly for his hands to be on you. Just as his fingertips graze over your bathing suit between your legs, breath hitching in your throat, he pulls away. “Look at me.” He helps spin you around. “As bad as I want to… Your dad is my best friend.” He breathes. You nod your head, as bad as it hurts you, you understand. You’re still breathing hard, as he creates a few more inches of distance, reaching out to run his finger along your bottom lip, loving the way you react to him, parting your lips even more. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back just slightly. It’s a small gesture but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You swipe your tongue over his thumb. The taste of his skin is amazing, even when it’s mixed with chlorine.

He bites his lip, pulling his hand away. “Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. It’s quiet, you almost miss it. When he says it, your body lights on fire. Having him touch you, his hands on you. It’s almost too much for you to handle. When you finally pull yourself out of the trance like state he’d put you in, he’s moved a couple feet away from you. Which is perfect timing. Your step mom makes her way out of the back door, sending John a smile. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go.” You narrow your eyes at her. “What?” You ask. “It’s nearing nine, you need to head on home.” She crosses her arms. “Uh.. I think she’s been drinking.” John looks at you. “That’s not my problem, she’s not welcome to stay here. Our guest bedroom is my office now anyways.” You roll your eyes and John can see the attitude on your face as you look up at her. “Have a good night John.” She smiles at him. “Remember, the couch is always open.” John expects you to be a little more upset than you are. But you aren’t. You step out of the pool mumbling out a “fucking bitch.” Under your breath. John smiles at your aggression. “I can give you a ride home?” John asks. “I’m sure I’ll be fine John, besides, I think you’ve had more to drink than me.” You laugh, wrapping a towel around you. He smiles, climbing out of the pool. His body is soaked, drips of water sliding down his chest. You want to drool at the sight of him. sliding a t-shirt on. His cargo shorts were soaked but he didn’t care. “Honey, I’ve got twenty plus years of drinking on you.” He laughs. “Takes a lot to get me drunk.” You smile. John is about to offer again, the door opens. This time it’s your dad. “Hey. I didn’t know you guys were still here.” He smiles. “Yeah. I would’ve stayed longer but Y/N caught the wrath of your wife.” John raises his eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“Told Y/N she wasn’t welcome to stay.”

Your dad looks down at his feet. Glancing back at the door. “She’s just.. in her own space. You know? You understand, right Y/N?” He says. Your lips part slightly. “Cmon Y/N. You can stay at my house.” John nods his head. You send your dad a death glare, following after John. “Oh and uh.. it’s not really my place, but letting your daughter who’s been drinking drive home on her own and choosing a woman over your own kid.. dick move.” John shakes his head at him, sliding his hand over your lower back and walking through the wooden gate with you.

He walks you out to a large truck in the driveway, it’s brand new, shiny black with leather seats. He opens the door for you, helping you up inside. He rests his hand on your thigh until you’re settled, closing the door once you’re inside. He makes his way around the front, opening up his side and climbing in. He starts it, backing up out of the driveway. The way his hands grip around the steering wheel, veins popping out on his hands. He’s sexy, it’s hard to ignore. You bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the throbbing between them. John feels bad. He’s upset by the fact that your own dad treats you that way, and allows his wife to treat you like that. What bothers him the most? Is how unbothered you are by it. How you seem so used to it, you don’t even care anymore. “You don’t deserve that, you know?” He mumbles. He reaches his hand across the center console, resting his hand on your bare thigh. His hand is warm against your cold skin, and for once in your life, you could give that stupid bitch a hug for doing what she did. She got you alone with John Price. The guy you’ve been crushing on since you were a kid. “I know, but it’s normal to me. You see why I haven’t showed up for any gatherings?” You smile. He nods his head. “Yeah, definitely. I had a lot of respect for your dad until tonight, can’t believe that.” He rolls his eyes. “Like your little attitude you threw, bet you’ve got more fire in you than that.” A giggle leaves your lips, and he smiles at it. “Oh yeah. She’s brought out the absolute worst in me.” You smile. He gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, not missing the way that you slide down into the seat unintentionally. Your body was begging for his touch, wanting his his hand to creep up just a little bit higher.

John pulls into his driveway, quickly climbing out and making his way around the truck to your side. “Sorry, haven’t got the running boards for it yet. They’re on back order.” He explains. “That’s okay, I can jump.” You giggle. John helps you down from the seat, fingertips lingering a little longer than they should on your hips. John feels his phone vibrate in his hand, ignoring it as he leads you up to the front door. When you step inside, you smile. He’s got a very nice house. “Wow. It’s really pretty in here.” You smile. “Pretty?” He laughs. “Yeah, pretty. I like it.” He passes you a hoodie he’d been wearing earlier that morning. Assuming you had no other clothes to sleep in. You thank him, and he shows you to the bathroom so that you can change. He changes too, finishing before you. He sits down on his couch, finally taking a moment to look at his phone. It’s a message from your dad.

I don’t appreciate what you said about what happened today. Involving yourself in our business. What happens between my family is to stay within my family.

John thinks for a while about a reply. But eventually decides to just leave it alone and ignore him. He’s pissed off. You don’t deserve it. This was an entire new side of your dad that he’d never seen before. A side John didn’t like at all, it really made him want to re-evaluate his entire friendship. He no longer had the same respect for the man he did originally. The best thing about him was his daughter. You. John thinks for a minute. Running his fingers over his facial hair. You come back from the bathroom, wearing only his sweatshirt. As you pass by him, he stops you, grasping onto your knee and pulling you in front of him. “John…” you mumble. “What are you doing?” You mumble. “Just.. admiring you sweetheart.” He looks up at you, pulling you into him. Looking at you. You look down at him, biting your lip nervously. He grasps your thighs, tugging you further. You straddle his hips and his fingers slide up your bare thighs. Sliding slightly under the sweatshirt. He expects to feel panties, or your bathing suit, but his eyes widen when he feels nothing. He brings his hand between your legs. “I thought..” you pant, clutching onto his shoulder. “I thought you said you-“ he cuts you off when his fingertips touch your opening for the first time, the first time you’d ever been touched by a man. A gasp leaves your lips and you’re soaking wet. Coating his fingers when he’s barely even touched you. You like him more than he thought. “Yeah, maybe what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirks. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart.” He rubs gentle circles over your clit, making you moan out, rocking your hips into his touch.

“John?” You mewl. He looks at you, a smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Will you have sex with me?” You whimper. He swallows hard. “But you’re a virgin sweet girl.” You nod your head. “I know- but I’ve saved it for you.” You breathe out. “I only want you John. I want you to take it.” You rock your hips into his hand more, body shaking at the intensity of him touching you. Your skin is hot against him. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He bites his lip. He wraps his hands around your waist, lifting you up. He walks down the hallway to his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and laying you down on his bed. “I don’t have condoms or anything.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “I want to feel all of you.” You breathe. Your desperation is turning him on. Nobody has ever shown him anything like this. John hasn’t been with a woman since he was in his mid twenties, and he gave up on relationships and women. Trashed the idea completely. But you.. you came into the picture. Pretty black bathing suit. Smooth skin, innocent eyes that helped conceal such a dirty little secret. So young and pretty, and you wanted him. You were desperate for him. Begging him to take your virginity even. John’s breathing is a little sporadic, he’s nervous too. It’s been so long. He doesn’t even really remember sex. You make him feel young again, and he’s a little worried he might ruin this.

He keeps touching you. Kissing and biting at your skin, running his fingers over your opening and eventually sliding them into your slick hole. Sliding them in and out of you, scissoring them until you’re squirming, begging him for more. The way you say his name. Caught somewhere between a moan and a mewl, it kicks his body into overdrive. His cock is rock hard, throbbing against his leg. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Nothing ever really got to John anymore. Not until now. “Do you think you’re ready for me, princess?” He smiles down at you. You’re completely naked now, tits on full display for him to tease. He’s been toying with them for a while, sucking and swirling his tongue around them. You’re soaked, body begging for him. You nod your head eagerly. He pumps his cock, using your wetness to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your entrance and you keep your legs spread for him. He watches you for any discomfort or any signs that you’re going to stop him, but you don’t. You hold your legs open, biting your lip. Excited that he’s going to take your virginity. Your pussy is wet enough, he doesn’t have to stretch you too much. You feel slight pinching as he inches deeper and deeper into you, but a moan leaves your lips when he bottoms out. Your hands jumping to clutch at his bed sheets. “Are you okay?” You nod your head. “Yes- yes!” You whimper. “I feel so full.” You whimper. Your eyes are watering slightly and it hurts more than you want to admit, he can tell. But you’re so excited to be having sex with him, those fantasies you’ve been having for so many years finally coming true, and they’re so much better than you ever thought they’d be. He rocks his hips back and fourth, hearing you cry out as he does. He smirks. Hoping you don’t notice how much he’s enjoying seeing you such a mess.

You’re crying after a few thrusts, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation you feel. It only took you a few minutes to cum for the first time, his thumb moving back and fourth against your clit until you started crying, and he finally let go. Him giving your body what you had so desperately wanted, for so long. Your body gave into him right away, tightening around him and soaking his cock. He bites his lip, thrusting into you still. “So pretty..” he smirks. “That’s it.. cry for me sweet girl.” He bites his lip, thrusting a bit harder than he had before. Another sob leaves your lips, your body shaking. “I’m gonna cum again!” You cry. He leans down into you. “Look at me sweetheart.” He breathes. You look up at him. “Watch me when you cum.” You lazily nod your head, eyes watery. Your tears are shiny in the moonlight dipping through the curtains and his lower stomach is clenching up tight. Knot wound up in his stomach. A cry leaves your lips, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly as you cum again, this time, he groans out. Hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes inside of you. The feeling of you clenching down around him is too much. And he rests his head on your chest. You run your hands through his hair, something you had dreamt about doing for so long. He’s panting, coming down from his high. “Fuck.. did so good for me sweetheart.” He breathes. He collapses on top of you with a groan. Once he relaxes, he slides out of you with a gasp. He lays next to you, holding onto your hand. You’re panting hard. He stares up at the ceiling, in shock. He just took your virginity, his best friends daughter.

He took it, your virginity.

He blushes hard as he stares up, still in shock. No woman has shown John any attention in years, how lucky is he that a woman as pretty as you likes him? Let him touch you even. He sits up, getting up to clean himself up. He takes a deep breath, drinking the sight of you in. You look so pretty in his bed. When he finishes cleaning up, he cleans you up the best he can. He slides his hoodie onto you, trying not to wake you up. He lays down, pulling a blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him. Your hair smells amazing and he breathes out, feeling an ache in his chest. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he wonders. What happens if he falls in love with you?

The next morning, you wake up to his side of the bed being empty. You sit up, groaning as the muscles in your legs and lower stomach burn. He really did a number on you last night. You rub your eyes tiredly, taking a deep breath. Your cheeks are burning, the thoughts from last night running through your head. You’re going to have to face him again, see him. The man who took your virginity. The man who you’ve had feelings for forever, that you could no longer hide. Just as you’re about to stand up, John walks in. He’s holding a glass of water. “Here.” He smiles, passing it to you. He holds his other hand out, he’s holding something. You open your hand and he places medicine in it. “I know you’re probably sore, baby.” He runs his hand up your thigh. You take the medicine, drinking some of the water. When you’re finished, he takes it from your hand and sets it down. “There’s coffee in the kitchen too. I made it.” You smile. You go to stand up, but your knees buckle underneath you. He catches you before you topple to the ground, a gasp leaving your lips. You can feel his warmth from the night before spilling out of you.

“What? Are you okay?” He asks. “I.. yeah. Just..” you look down. He swallows hard when he sees it. “I tried to clean you up the best I could…” he mumbles. “Fuck that’s so hot baby.. I need to walk away.” He laughs. You look up at him, seeing he’s turned his head. “You don’t have to..” you mumble. He looks at you, eyebrows raised. “You.. want me to fuck you again?” He blushes, trying to hide it. You cover your face with the sleeve of his hoodie, blushing. He smiles, reaching forward and pulling it away from you face. “All you had to do was ask baby.” He smiles, reaching for the buckle on his belt. He’s already dressed. You’re blushing hard, avoiding eye contact. He chuckles at you. “Blush for me princess, makes you so cute.” He leans down, his nose nudging against yours. He grasps your thighs and slides you to the edge of the bed, pushing his jeans down his legs enough to where he can get closer to you. When he slides in, you gasp. It feels much more intense than the night before. He tilts his head back, swallowing hard. His adams apple bobs and you blush even harder, moaning as he rocks his hips into yours. You’re still covering your face with the sleeve and he grasps both of your hands, leaning over you to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me..” he moans. “You’re so fucking pretty baby, such a pretty girl.” He gasps. Hips rocking into yours. He’s trying not to be too rough, he knows you’re sore. Your hair sprawled out on his bed, it’s something he wants to see forever. He knows you’re young and as selfish as it’d be of him. He needs to make you his. No matter what it takes.

—

The cup of coffee in your hand is heavenly, he was a master at making coffee. The seat in his truck is warming up, and you’re comfortable as he drives to your dads house. When he pulls up, you look confused. “Where is my car?” You ask. John shrugs. “Don’t know. That’s weird.” Your growl. Opening the door to his truck. “That fucking bitch.” You mumble. John grasps hold of the column shifter, throws his truck in park and gets out, following after you to the front door. He holds back a smirk when he sees you walking with a slight limp, legs still shaky. So bold yet so weak for him. You knock on the door and tilt one of your hips out, resting your hand on it. He likes it. Angry mom behavior.

Your dad and Step-mom answer the door, giving you a surprised look. “Hey Y/N.” Your dad smiles. “Where is my car?” You ask. He looks at your step-mom. “I thought you said she came and got it earlier?” He asks. She pouts. “I’m sorry, it was in my way so I had it towed.” He laughs. “Oh that’s okay sweetheart. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You’re fuming and John can see it. “No, it’s not fucking okay. Are you kidding me?” You’re seething. “Watch your mouth young lady.” Your dad warns. “Or else what? Huh? What the fuck do you have in mind exactly? Kick me out? Say I’m not welcome? Pick your stupid whore of a wife over me? Oh wait.” You roll your eyes. “You’re paying for these goddamn fees.” You point a finger at her. “Hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I can give you a ride home for now.” John reaches out to grasp your arm. “John..” you groan. “It’s not your responsibility.” You mumble. “It’s my fault for trusting my car over night with a lying, cheating, skank, whore roaming around.” You growl, taking a step toward her. John steps forward, pulling you back. “Come on, I’ll take you home Y/N.” John tries to tug you away but you don’t budge. “She’s a big girl John. Let her fight her own battles.” Your dad looks at him. John crosses his arms, looking unimpressed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t let her fight this one. She looks like she’s about to tear your wife’s face off.” John looks at him. “This is none of your business.”

“Y/N is my business now.”

Your dad looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks. John can see the little devil in your eyes. “You let your daughter go home with a man twice her age, what do you think that means, hm?” You smirk. His eyes move back and fourth between you and John. He shakes his head. “John wouldn’t do that. He respects me too much.”

“No, I don’t respect you at all after last night and today. You treat your own daughter like shit.”

Your dad looks at him. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean that you’d..” the smirk on your lips. The hint of mischief in John’s eyes. “You slept with my daughter?” Your dad is fuming. John swipes his hand off on his jeans. “Yeah. I fucked her. Took her virginity actually. Made her cum all over my cock. And you know what my favorite thing is actually?” He pauses. “When I fuck her again, tonight. I’m gonna make her call me daddy too.” Your dad is still fuming. “You mother-“ your step mom stops him. “It’s okay, just forget about her.” She mumbles. “Cmon John.” You grasp his arm, finally pulling him away. You both get into his truck.

John drives for a minute, pulling off of the road onto a back road, where nobody can see anything. You’re silent for the whole ride, and after he parks, you finally take a deep breath. “Holy fuck I can’t believe that.” You say, eyes wide. “Yeah I know.. I took it too far I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs. “Are you serious?” You look at him. A laugh leaving your lips. “We finally put them in their place.” You laugh. “What you said? Was so fucking hot.” You say, still in shock. John laughs. You look at him, moving over the center console to straddle his hips, smashing your lips to his. He grasps your hips. You rock your hips into his, desperate for his cock again. He shoves his foot into the metal pedal, his seat sliding all of the way back with a cranking noise. He’s kissing you back with just as much force as you’re kissing him with, his hand grasping on your shirt and squeezing you into him as tight as he can. You have your hands wrapped around his neck, and he pushes your shorts down your legs, the ones you had on the day before. He unzips his jeans, pulling his cock through the hole. You hover over him, sinking down onto him with a moan. His mouth muffles it. When you pull away, rocking your hips into him, he relaxes. Letting the pleasure take over. “Oh fuck yeah baby-“ he gasps. You’re bouncing your hips into him faster, leaning in to kiss him as hard as you did before. He’s moaning into your lips, thinking about how dirty this is. However he got himself in this situation, he’s happy. You make him feel young again, so fucking crazy. You pull away, resting your forehead against his. Panting hard as you keep a steady pace. You moan out. Tilting your head back. “Fuck-“ he reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your clit. “Say it.” He mumbles. “Hm?” You ask. “Say it.” He pants. His hand connects with your bare ass in a harsh slap. “Say what I want you to say baby..” he smirks. You blush hard, “Daddy…” you pant. He bites his lip. Tilting his head into the seat behind him. “Fuuuck.. that’s so fucking hot princess.” He groans. You lean into him again. And he looks at you. “Fuck.. I love you.” He breathes. Chest heaving. His eyes widen after he says it, he doesn’t mean to. You kiss him again, steadily rocking your hips into him.

He’s right at his peak, and he knows you are too. “I love you too.” You say it when you pull away and the sparks that shoot through him, it’s too much. He’s right there, so close. He starts to lift his hips up into you, groaning out. “Oh fuck- Daddy!” You cry out. “Yes baby, I know you’re so close. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Cum on my dick again baby-“ he’s breathing so hard, it feels so good. He feels like he’s about to pass out. “Daddy- yes! So close. So so close.” He tears a cry from your throat as you reach your high, eyes shutting tightly and he moans out, jumping back as your pussy milks his cock of everything he has to give you. Flinching as you rock your hips into him once for good measure. You rest your head on his chest, and he runs a soothing hand over your back. The both of you still breathing so hard.

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Hey, look at me.” He mumbles. You lift your head, eyes drowsy. “Do you mean it?” He asks. “What?” You ask. “Do you love me?”

You blush, looking down. “John.. I’ve been in love with you. For years.” You mumble. “You’re sure it’s no crush?” He asks. “No, it’s no crush. I’m in love with you, John. Have been.” You mumble. He pushes your hair behind your ear. “I love you too. And I can take care of you baby. You can come live with me, I’ll make sure you have everything you need.” He breathes. You smile. “John, I can’t leach off of you like that. It’s no fair.” He rolls his eyes, lifting his hips to adjust himself, earning a gasp from you. “Leach? No. I want to take care of you baby. You’re a princess, you deserve nice things. You deserve to be treated with respect. Let me take care of you. Help you get through school.” He smiles. You blush, kissing him again. “I’ll help you get your car back, we can start moving your things this weekend. I want you. Forever. And I’ll never ever let anyone come between you and I. Not ever. I’ll never treat you the way everyone else does.” He holds your head against his. “Promise?” You raise your pinky up and he takes it with a smile. “I promise. Now Cmon.” You smile. “Okay, Daddy.” You smirk. He swats your ass playfully making you jump into him. “Ah!” You giggle, sliding off of him. He groans out as you do. You slide your shorts back on, climbing off of him and back into his passenger seat.

How you went from a shitty family barbecue to this? You’ll never understand.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.