#hold me just a minute can you hold me just a minute now

[classyrbf]

dad bod!toji who’s still the big, muscular man he is but you can tell he’s gotten older and his metabolism has slowed down a little bit. He’s gotten chubbier in his arms, thighs, tummy. Not to mention, he’s started to gray and grow stubble on his face, the perfect salt and pepper mix. Toji says he hates it, always moaning and groaning about needing to hit the gym but you…? You fucking love it. It takes everything in you not to ravish his right then and there, wanting to pounce on him every second of the day. You’re always kissing up on him, grabbing on him, dragging him to the laundry room while the kids watching tv so you could have a quickie. And he’s so confused on where all this extra energy and affection has sprouted from, but he loves it. You’re always so eager for him, fucking your self on his cock, him waking up to you kissing his neck and stroking his dick, dropping to your knees and giving him head without his asking. He wonders what he’s done to deserve all of it.

He’s standing in the mirror one late night with his shirt off, examining just how chubby he’s gotten. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little insecure, thinking how gorgeous you are and how you shouldn’t settle for him. “I’m losing myself,” he grumbles. “What’s going on, baby?” You walk in the room, a smile immediately on your face when you see his shirt is off, definitely a sight to see. “I need to head to the gym is what’s going on.” He flexes his muscles in the mirror. You giggle and walk up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist. “I think you look so handsome with a little weight on you,” you whisper in his ear. “Does something to me.” You nibble on his ear before trailing kisses along his jaw, and that’s when Toji realizes why you’ve been so affectionate with him, like a lightbulb going off in his head.

Just mere minutes later, you’re riding him like your life depends on it, slamming your hips down on his, creating a sticky mess between you two. “S-shit,” he pants, “slow down, mama—fuck!” His bruising grips on your hips only tighten the faster you ride him. Your pussy sucks him in with each thrust, clenching around his throbbing cock. “I can’t…you get so me so hot and bothered, baby.” You grin, running your hands down his chest.

He swears he could cum right then and there, with the way you were riding him and that look in your eye, he was ready to give you another kid. And now you were kissing his neck, moaning and whimpering in his ear. “You’re so perfect, Toji,” you mewl. “Fuck me.” His eyes roll back before fluttering shut. “Keep going, yes, yes, just like that, mama. You’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he groans. You keep that same rhythm, squeezing your pussy around him, milking him. He suddenly wraps his arms around you, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Ah, fuck!” You cry out, your cum dripping down his shaft. His thrusts grow sloppier and harder and next thing you know he’s filling you up, pushing his cum deeper inside of you with slow thrusts. Laughter erupts from your chest as you catch your breath, kissing him slowly and passionately.

“Mmm, goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you to his chest. “Now I finally know why you’re so goddamn horny all the time,” he chuckles. You blink up at him with a small smirk. “Can you blame me?” You trace patterns on his skin. He can see the look in your eye, that hungry stare you’re giving him, wanting more. “What are you thinking about, hm?” He caresses your cheek. “Oh nothing…just how badly I wanna give you some head right now, but I’ll wait.”

[nanaslutt]

roommates!gojo & geto jerking each other off while thinking abt their cute neighbor they both want soooo bad

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔

“do it harder.” geto groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he laid back against satoru’s pillows. said man currently had his hand wrapped around his cock, albeit poorly. his hand was soft as fuck, but he was touching him like he had never touched a dick before. “jerk me off how you jerk yourself off.”

gojo snorted, his words breathy as he spoke, “what if i like it soft?” geto shook his head and curled his toes when gojo wrapped his hand around him tighter. “these walls are thin, i’ve heard you having sex and i know you don’t like it soft. those poor girls.”

gojo laughed, “they love it, i think she would love it too.” he said. geto licked his lips, starting to paint an image in his head. “what would you do to her?” he asked tentatively, his eyebrows furrowing together when gojo focused on his cock head like the bastard he was.

“mmm i think id start with fingering her.” gojo said. “i’ve seen her a couple times in the laundry room bend over in those tiny shorts—you know the ones. and her-“ he stopped talking to groan when geto stroked over a particularly sensitive vein. “they don’t cover much.”

geto nodded, seeing you bent over in his head. “you think she’s sensitive?” geto asked, cracking his eyes open to peek at gojo. his eyes were lidded and focused on the hand around his cock. geto tried not to shy away when he felt his pre cum drip into his hand. he’d never jerked anyone off before—besides himself.

“oh yeah,” gojo responded, biting his plush lip. for some reason it made geto’s mouth water. “i think… fuck, i think i could make her squirt with just my fingers.” gojo’s face was getting flushed now. it made geto want to tease him. “yeah?” he asked, squeezing his hand tighter around his shaft and relishing in his reaction when he sucked in a breath through his teeth and arched his back. “would you make her squirt all over our couch?”

gojo moaned at his filthy words and nodded, his head tipping back against the headboard. “yeah.” geto nodded, looking at his roommate even though his eyes were closed. “what would you do if i walked in when you were making her cum?” he asked, paying attention to the head of his cock.

“i-id let you suck my fingers clean.” he groaned, making geto’s balls throb at the visual. “god, she’d probably get so hot… trying to press her thighs together watching me suck your fingers.” gojo nodded, his mouth falling open in a small O.

“would you want her pussy or her ass?” geto asked, his breath coming more quickly. “ass, i know it’s so tight and warm. god. would you want her at the same time?” geto nodded despite him being unable to see. “yeah, just think about how good she would look with tears down her face trying to take us both.”

suddenly, a hand way being wrapped around his wrist. geto opened his eyes fully and watched with rapt attention as gojo cursed before his back arched. he continued stroking him, despite knowing what was gonna happen. he cringed when hot ropes of cum spilled from his dick, coating his hand and his cock and making a lewd sound from the stroking.

gojo gripped geto’s wrist to stop him, and geto pulled it away and made a face at the mess on his hand. gojo also had stopped jerking him off, just weakly holding his throbbing cock. “that did it for you huh?” he teased. gojo laughed before removing his hand from geto’s cock.

gojo crawled off the edge of the bed and bent down to grab a towel to wipe his cock clean with. geto gripped his cock and languidly started stroking, waiting for gojo to help him get off. “your turn, one minute man. come keep this fantasy going so i can blow all over your hand and pretend it’s hers.”

a cruel smile twisted on gojo’s face before he dropped the towel and zipped his pants back up. “i’m sure you can finish yourself off.” getos mouth opened in disbelief. “if you need some help, i have porn from last night still up on my laptop, feel free to check it out. it’s really good stuff.” with a wink, he left geto gaping and alone in HIS room with his stiff cock in his hand.

fucking biiiitch.

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact.

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fucks you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

[beloveds-embrace]

The Sandman clip/ tiktok audio of "you came" "you called" just screams ex boyfriend/husband TF141 when you call them late at night because some creep is following you home or you're in trouble

WAIT YES YOU ARE RIGHT

It’s almost an instinct to call him first before anyone else, even after breaking up/divorcing. You tell yourself you can’t be blamed- he is a military man and despite all the hurdles that left your relationship in shambles, he was dependable when it came to safety.

And right now, walking slowly to your home with a fan following you- that man had to be kicked out of your workplace, you can remember him- you need his safety.

Something in your heart twinges when he accepts your call on the first ring. Some things truly never change, do they?

“He- hey,” you whisper immediately, and now that someone is here to hear you, the fearful tears build up in your eyes and you are sure he can hear the shakiness in your voice. You don’t give him a chance to say anything for now, though. “I- I know that we- we are not together anymore but… god, I’m so sorry, someone is following me and I didn’t know who else to call, I’m so sorry-”

“Where are you?”

You tell him where you are right now, steps carefully slow but not too slow so your stalker doesn’t know that you are aware of him.

“Stay on the phone for me, yeah?”

“Okay,” you are still whispering, gulping. “Okay. Thank you. I’m so sorry again-“

“Stop apologizing.” His voice is softer now, compared to before. “I don’t mind. Never will. I’ll be right with you in a minute, alright?”

And true to his words, he does come to you soon, throwing his arm over your shoulder and glaring right at your stalker. You can’t see his face, but you know his glare has always made him look so scary. But once the stalker is gone, and you two are left alone while he leads you home, you can’t help but break the silence.

“…you came.”

He looks at you, the glare softening immediately. So many things unsaid, so much that had gone wrong and right in your relationship…

“You called.” Is all he says in reply, still holding you right against him.

No other words are needed at this moment. Though your heart, traitorous thing it is, wonders if it’s not too late to try again. Your mind vehemently disagrees and states he likely holds no feelings for you anymore.

His arm remains wrapped around you and he even covers you in his jacket.

…perhaps it doesn’t have to end this way.

[katiascraft]

“If I define her I limit her” | CL16

Parings: Charles Leclerc x Actrees!Gf!Reader.

Summary: you go together to the Gladiator || premier because your best friend Paul Mescal invited you. You didn’t expect Charles being so sweet talking about you on interviews.

Word count: +1k.

Warnings: none! Just fluff and more fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: I HAD TO DO IT. so I was inspired not only by Charles looking breathtakingly beautiful but from Chino Darin I LOVE THAT MAN 🫦 now I gotta go back to study UNLIVE ME Don’t forget to like, reblog, comment! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You were so excited to assist at the premier of the movie your fav person alive aka your bestie aka paul mescal was starring in. He invented the ferrari boys alongside you. Everything was so elegant - you were lucky enough to be wearing a high fashion valentino black dress - you felt a little intimidated like every time you stepped on a red carpet. Of course, you are an actress but still couldn't get used to this side that is part of your job.

Charles holded your hand gently at the red carpet while you were walking into the people circulating there. Behind you were Carlos and rebecca. But when you say Gracie - paul´s girlfriend - you part ways to say hi. Unfortunately Charles couldn't go with you because a reporter asked him and Carlos to join for a brief interview.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Looking good as ever i can see” the reporter said causing charles to giggle a little.

“What can I say ? We sweat all year so it's good to smell good once in a while,” Charles said, making the reporter laugh along with carlos. He asked a few generic questions about the break until the last three races of the championships and the invitation and expectations for the movie.

“So Charles, what's your favorite thing about london?” the reporter asked, making Charles smile but he didn't have to think about it.

“To be honest, my wife” he said grinning, making Carlos giggle a little looking at him. He has love written all over his face.

“How romantic, is she your wife already?” The reporter moved the microphone closer thinking he had breaking news. Charles laughed, nodding.

“I mean , not yet but she will, of course” he answered nervously and blushing like a little kid in love. That's the effect you had on him.

“How wonderful it is for you to say your favorite thing about London is your girlfriend. How would you define her as a person or professional?” the reporter was just as in love with him probably as you were.

“Oh well, if i define her i limit her to be honest. She is amazing at everything she does. As a person and as a professional” Charles answered without thinking. He couldn't define you, how could he? You were this huge force that made him feel things he didn't even know he could feel. You were so powerful in his eyes. Magical. He couldn't define you because defying you would be an actual crime. You're bigger than everything.

“Oh mate” Carlos expressed, making Charles giggle.

“What a lovebird, did y/n come with you?” the reporter continued.

“yeah yeah i don't know exactly where she is now but somewhere around here. We were invited thanks to her to be honest,” Charles explained.

“Lets see if we can find her in a minute.so carlos…” the interviewer followed with some questions around Carlos now. Charles listened to him but his mind was on you. He looked around looking for you just to see you. He spotted you after a few minutes talking lively with Grace and he smiled to himself. You looked so beautiful and happy.

You started going your way after a little chat with Gracie and found charles and carlos along with rebecca on a corner waiting for you. You walked across the carpet straight to them. When Charles saw you coming his face lightened up in adoration.

“Hey gang, let's go” you said happily, taking Charles hand in yours. So you found your way into the carpet. Flashes met you when you entered the photo section. You posed with Charles smiling for the cameras. Everyone screaming your names for your attention so they could get a picture of you. You still got nervous with this. But having him next to you just made everything better. You felt more relaxed. More secure and confident.

When you finished the photo section another round of reporters was set. This time you knew you couldn't escape. A reporter a few feet away from you called you so you looked at Charles to check if he wanted to join or wait but he confidently followed you along.

“Good evening guys, how are you feeling about tonight?” she asked firstly. You smiled. Charles let you answer he knew you were the star tonight. And also, this was not his element.

“We're excited. I'm anxious to watch the movie already. I know it's gonna be amazing” you said sweetly gently stroking charles hand with you to calm your nerves and his. It's probably the first time you are being interviewed together.

“y/n i dont know if you heard but charles” she started talking to you but then directed to charles “ you mentioned she was your wife and couldn't define her because i quote if i define her i limit her. She is just amazing in everything she does. y/n what do you have to say?” she asked you. You looked at Charles in a sweet simple surprise but flustered. Your thoughts all over the place and your cheeks turned red.

“Oh wow, what can I say? I have the best husband in the world that's for sure” you said proudly making him giggle. “And I can say I love him and I'm so glad he's here with me. But I couldn't define him either. He is everything and more to me” your answer made charles smile so proudly and fondly. His eyes went crystal looking at you. He was so in love with you. Just as you were. He was the love of your life and you loved that you could be yourself with him with no filters and this life that was as complicated as his.

“Oh wow, such lovebirds! You guys need to win couple of the year!” she said excitedly, making you both giggle and thanked her to start walking again.

“Babe you really said that? I want to cry, you can't be so cute. I love you with every fiber on my body. Stop being so perfect it should be a crime” you made him laugh looking at you so enamored.

“Of course, cherie. You are the most amazing person I know and I admire you so much. Im proud of you” he said to lean over you and kissed you gently.

“I love you charlie. You're the best that ever happened to me” you responded in his lips and giggled.

You will need to fix your lipstick before the next interview.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: While Bradley thought it was unfair of the Navy to mess with him while he was still in his honeymoon phase, he certainly did love getting mail from you.

Warnings: fluff, adult language, smut, Bradley being husband material, 18+

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

That autumn....

As soon as you led Bradley inside after he drove the two of you home from Salvatore's, you ran your fingers along his cheek and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You had a lunch picnic with Thai food on the beach. And then you got pasta for dinner. Do you have any other requests?" you asked, using your strict classroom voice which made Bradley's mouth water. 

"I do, actually," he whispered, melting into your touch. "How about some of that lingerie you picked out in Paris?"

The honeymoon was almost three months ago, but not an hour went by where Bradley didn't reminisce about the days he got to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower and the view of your ass while he fucked you. It always left him with a smile on his face. But his smile started to falter when he remembered that he was shipping out tomorrow, and he wouldn't return until after the New Year. At least he would be allowed to communicate with you this time. That was the only thing saving him from almost certain despair.

"I think that can be arranged," you told him with a smile, unbuttoning your top as he stumbled along after you. "But you have to wait out here until I'm ready."

Bradley groaned and leaned on the wall in the hallway, watching you bounce along to the bedroom without him while you laughed. He didn't mind waiting a few minutes, because he was going to love whatever you were about to do. He was also going to miss you desperately. The honeymoon stage was still going strong, and quitting you cold turkey right now was going to be rough. There wasn't a moment when you and he were together that you weren't touching each other.

He hadn't even finished packing his duffle yet, because he didn't want this to feel real. He was planning on doing that tonight with your help, kissing you as you folded up his shirts and lined up his socks on the bed. But that was going to have to wait a few minutes. You opened the door to reveal the sheer nightie hugging your body as you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.

Bradley was pushing away from the wall, heading right for you. "Gorgeous," he murmured, pulling you against him and walking you backwards to the bed. "Baby, I'm going to miss this too much."

His heart was pounding in his ears, hands full of your lace covered ass before you dropped to the bed on your back. "I'm going to have to wear all of my honeymoon goodies for my own entertainment for months," you whispered, tits spilling out of the lace as you arched your back.

"No, no, no," he scolded softly, tossing his shirt aside and unzipping his jeans. "Don't be a tease, Baby." You grinned as you turned your head to the side, and Bradley stepped out of his remaining clothing before he climbed in bed. He was hovering above you, lips pressed to your ear as he whispered, "You'll wear the goodies for me, too. And you'll email me every mouth watering photo that you take of your fingers shoved deep in your pussy."

"Bradley," you whined, bucking your hips up until he had to hold you in place with his big hands on your body.

"I want a little treat every time you touch yourself. And I want to know that you're thinking about me."

"I'm always thinking about you."

Your words were an ego boost. Just the kind of thing that would get him through this work assignment and back into your arms. "When you're alone and thinking about me, I want some pictures, pretty girl. A whole inbox full of them. Some sweet ones," he crooned, kissing his way along your jaw to your lips. "And some dirty ones," he added, mouth teasing your skin until your nipple was between his lips and you were whining. He sucked gently, tugging until his lips popped free, leaving you begging for more with your fingers in his hair.

You stopped taking birth control a few weeks ago. The two of you decided to go with the flow and see what happens next. It felt nice to keep that kind of pressure out of the bedroom, especially when Bradley knew he'd be just as content with six kids or none. It's not like he needed anything besides you, and he told you that every single day.

"I'm going to miss my wife," he crooned, guiding his cock inside your slick perfection as soon as you spread your legs. He rocked in and out of you slowly, enjoying the feel of your body and your voice and your sweet scent. Memorizing everything. Telling himself he could get through the time away from you as long as he could come back to this.

It was so late when Bradley finally left the bed. You and he were wrung out and fucked out. Fingers laced together, barely moving, unable to go for a fourth round. "That was wild," you laughed when he finally rolled away from you, dizzy as he stood and looked at the wrecked bedding around your naked body.

"Shit, Gorgeous." He was laughing, too as he said, "I still need to finish packing in the next five hours."

You eased yourself up and stood next to him, assessing the blankets and his open duffle sitting on the floor against the wall. "What if I told you this was all just a ploy to keep you here with me instead of getting you ready to leave?"

"Then I would say I love you."

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

Waking up for work in a bed that was half cold was not your idea of a good time. You shivered every morning that Bradley was gone, especially when November brought with it a chilly bite to the air. The commute from Coronado to Mira Mesa and back each day felt like a punishment when you knew you weren't going to arrive home to a husband who was excited to see you and hear about your adventures in teaching.

Instead, you did the best you could to make it home to your computer where you could type paragraph after paragraph to him, letting him know what was going on back in California. You sent him a plethora of photos, some of which didn't include your face as a precaution. You even went into detail about how much you missed him at bedtime.

And the best part was, you got just as much, if not more, in return. His days were largely repetitious, but there was always something new he was telling you about. His gym selfies never disappointed, and neither did the paragraphs where he told you in an abundance of detail how much he missed waking up next to you.

While you made it a point to spend time with Natasha, Edith, Ruby and Marty, the loneliness was somehow worse now that you had rings on your finger. The best thing to happen was the arrival of the day when your new fourth grade class started their unit on aviation.

Your students had been anticipating it for weeks, and you had some eager faces looking back at you on the Monday morning when you stood at the front of your classroom and said, "We're about to embark on a flight that will take us through our math, science and language arts classes for weeks to come. As we learn all about aviation, we'll be writing to a naval aviator on an aircraft carrier, and we'll even get to visit a local naval base for a field trip. Let's start out by learning the definitions of a few words that we'll be using frequently."

Later that week, you had a sizable cardboard box packed up with letters and snacks for your husband. Instead of telling him exactly when the first package would arrive, you left it as a surprise for him to stumble upon.

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

Bradley was exhausted. The mechanical crew on this deployment was nowhere near as kind or competent as Marty, and he found himself constantly visiting their shop to work through issues with his aircraft. He missed his friends and his home and his wife. He missed you so fucking much. All of the letters and emails you sent him were fantastic, but he even missed having a bunch of pen pals to converse with at the end of the day.

Every happy thought that entered his mind seemed to be pushed aside when he realized he was still a long way from returning to San Diego. He considered skipping dinner in favor of collapsing in his bunk, but he could tell he was already losing weight. You weren't around to keep him well fed, so when his stomach started to rumble, he made a point to head for the noisy mess hall. 

The cabbage rolls were disgusting, but at least the aircraft carriers were consistent. He picked at his meal and then ate two plates of dessert to make himself feel a little bit better. When he was sorting his dirty dishes and tray into the appropriate place, he was surprised to hear his name being called amongst some others.

"Bradshaw! You've got unclaimed mail!"

He perked up immediately. How did he have something else to claim? He picked up an enormous envelope from you the other day along with a card from Edith. Did you send him a handwritten note again already?

When he went to the small window in front of the mail center and gave his name, a box was thrust into his hands. Bradley's heart leapt when he saw the return address was from Mira Mesa Elementary School. He should have been expecting this, but he was suddenly happy you kept it as a surprise. A smile curled along his lips. He could have some regular pen pals to correspond with again. His smile grew wider when he looked at the way you addressed the box to him in your tidy handwriting.

To MY US Naval Aviator (Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw)

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

Bradley has the ultimate pen pal in his wife. Thanks for reading this series which ended up being so much longer than originally intended! Thanks for all of the love and feedback along the way! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[cheoliehansoliereblogs]

🧸this is a review for @k-fic-collection 🧸

Consider this my live reaction while reading the fic

"no, i was up. are you okay?", he asks you, and that question gets you. you bite your lip in an attempt to not cry, feeling overwhelmed all over again. - so relatable, why is it that I can be fine without crying when I’m dealing with something on my own but I start sobbing the second anyone asks if I’m okay.

my love, - !!!!! The way I had to keep myself from squealing in public, omg

"send me your location and wait in the car, okay. i'm on the way” - swooning over this man rn

you unintentionally dozed off - unrelated (or maybe sort of related), but I was just laying in my dorm watching something last night and I accidentally fell asleep for like 30 minutes and when I woke up I felt so strange. It truly felt like I didn’t know who or where I was

propelling him to rush towards your location on his bike - the description of this literally makes it seem like a movie omg. I can literally imagine the scene in my head

"let's go home" - 😭😭😭😭😭 this is feeding the delusions and I’m going insane, that’s so sweet I can’t 😭😭😭😭

he retrieves another jacket from his bike. - he rides a motorcycle and he’s literally the sweetest man on the planet??? I can’t do this

brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear - this is probably one of the cutest thing a guy can do, I don’t make the rules

guiding them around his waist and you hold onto him now. - oh to be sitting on a motorcycle with my arms wrapped around Wonwoo’s waist. The dream, truly

his tattoed arm that was exposed - he rides a motorcycle and has tattoos???? End me

his hair that had grown into a mullet that was a little long and shaggy and fell over his forehead and eyes - i’m gonna die

he runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, the strands falling in an adorable mess around his face. - ahsjadsheowhfeuwr to witness that irl would kill me. Wonwoo really is just gorgeous and amazing

"i'll pick you up, just wrap your legs around my waist," - !!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wanted this to happen, but I wasn’t sure if it would and now it’s happening!!!!!!!

he lifts your chin up so that you can meet his gaze. - I truly have no words, I just, yeah

the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet intimacy. - that is such a beautiful way to end it, the words are just perfect

Overall, such a fun and cute fic. Like truly amazing and I loved it so much. The ending (both the actual and bonus) were everything and it was such a satisfying read. One of my favorite wonwoo fics for sure

into the night | jeon wonwoo

SUMMARY: when you call wonwoo late at night telling him you're stranded, he drops everything to make his way to you (and bring you home safe)

PAIRING: biker!wonwoo x reader

THEMES: biker au, established relationship, terms of endearment, comfort fluff

WARNINGS: speed, fluff, kissing, a little suggestive (only at the end)

WORDCOUNT: 3.1k

A/N: just another very self-indulgent fic. another biker wonwoo fic here.

the cool wind blows in your hair as you stand next to your car on the verge of tears. you really don't know how you ended up here - well you do actually. you were upset, overwhelmed from work and exhausted. you just wanted to run away for a bit, get away from life. but right now it seemed like life had caught up and was showing you the reality of your situation.

you pull out your phone from your sling bag and unlock it, your hands opening your contacts, your finger hovering over wonwoo's number. it was late, almost going to be midnight and here you were in the middle of nowhere because your car decided to break down. you wonder whether you should bother wonwoo tonight, having second thoughts, but your finger taps on his contact anyway, dialling his number. you don't think he is going to pick up after a few rings and you move your phone from your ear. that's when you hear the line pick up on the other end, wonwoo's voice floating in your ear.

"yn?", he asks, his voice tinged with a little sleepiness. "i-sorry did i wake you up?", you ask softly, looking down at your feet.

"no, i was up. are you okay?", he asks you, and that question gets you. you bite your lip in an attempt to not cry, feeling overwhelmed all over again.

"wonwoo", you say softly, feeling like an idiot for getting yourself in this situation.

"my love, what's wrong?", his voice comes through, concern laced in his voice and you can hear the sound of some shuffle on the other side.

"can you come get me?", you finally manage to choke out, your voice cracking, betraying your composure. "where are you?", he asks, his tone more alert now.

"i'm kind of stranded", you confess softly, and wonwoo catches onto the tremor in your voice, getting worried. "i don't know where i am, i was just driving and the car broke down", you try to explain softly, a lone tear rolling down your cheek.

"driving? why were you driving so late", he presses, to which you don't respond. you bite your lip in hesitation, unsure whether you want to tell wonwoo the truth or not.

you can hear him sigh softly on the other end before he speaks again. "send me your location and wait in the car, okay. i'm on the way", he says before hanging up.

after sending wonwoo your location, you settled into the quiet of the car, exhaustion weighing heavily upon your eyelids. despite your best efforts to stay awake, you unintentionally dozed off, unaware of the passing time and wonwoo's frantic attempts to reach you, the phone on silent.

in wonwoo's mind, each unanswered call heightens his worry, his imagination conjuring the worst-case scenarios, thinking something might have happened to you. it was unlike you to not respond to his calls. you'd usually reassure him with a quick call or text, but right now you were unreachable and panic ignited in his chest, propelling him to rush towards your location on his bike, each passing moment feeling like an eternity.

he finally reaches your location, finding your car on the side of the road with the blinkers flashing. with wonwoo's heart pounding with every step he takes, he approaches your car, his knuckles knocking against the window, startling you awake.

jumping up at the sudden noise, you blinked groggily, confusion clouding your senses. a figure stood outside, casting a silhouette against the darkness. fear momentarily gripped you until clarity dawned, and you recognised the familiar leather jacket that belonged to wonwoo.

with a shaky exhale, you reached for the door handle. as you stepped out into the cool night air you heard wonwoo say something like "thank god" under his breath as you stepped out.

"are you okay?", he asks, worried, his hair a touseled mess, falling over his forehead and eyes, blowing gently with the breeze. he looks you up and down, looking for any signs of injury.

"i'm okay, i just dozed off", you tell and relief seems to flood in his eyes. "you got me worried there, i called you but you weren't picking up", he says, looking at you, relieved to see you safe and sound.

a gush of wind passes, making you shiver. you cross your arms over your chest to offer some sort of warmth to your body. you stand there in front of wonwoo, avoiding wonwoo's gaze, dreading the question he might ask you about why you were driving out so late in the middle of nowhere. but the question never comes.

"let's go home", he says softly, reassuring in a way, holding out his hand for you to take, making you finally look up at him. you take his hand, walking along with him. he holds your hand gently but there's something comforting about his touch.

that's when you finally spot the bike - wonwoo's sports bike parked on the side of the road, making you turn your head to him.

"it's gonna get cold", he remarks, his voice gentle as he retrieves another jacket from his bike. he holds it out to you and waits patiently as you slip your arms into the sleeves, his touch tender as he settles the jacket over your shoulders. though it was slightly oversized, the garment seemed to embrace you in its warmth, a comforting shield against the biting night air. wonwoo's heart swelled with pride at the sight of you wearing his jacket.

"we're going home on this?", you question, apprehension evident in your voice as wonwoo zips up the jacket around you.

"why? are you scared?" he teases lightly. he knew all too well of your unease with riding on his bike, a fear you had yet to conquer since the beginning of your relationship. the whole thing seemed so intimidating to you, but wonwoo never pushed you to overcome it, understanding you and respecting your space. but tonight, it seemed like you were finally going to face your fear.

"it was the fastest way to get to you", he adds softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear as your eyes dart around nervously, still grappling with the idea of riding on his bike.

"do you trust me?", he asks, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. you lift your eyes to meet his, and nod slowly. "then let's go home".

wonwoo sits on the bike, manoeuvring it into position. he extends his hand, helping you to get on the bike and take a seat. once you're settled in the seat, you can't help but notice its height and weight, a realisation sinking on what you were about to embark on.

wonwoo hands you the spare helmet he brought along with him, and you accept it, your fingers tracing the smooth surface nervously.

"okay, some ground rules," he began, his gaze turning serious as he turns back to look at you.

"hold onto me no matter what or else you're gonna fall off", he says, his gaze turning amused when he sees the flash of panic in your eyes.

"woah not like that, i mean, it's better to hold onto me you know", he adds, chuckling softly and you make a face, smacking him lightly.

"tap me once to tell me you're comfortable, tap twice if you want me to slow down and tap thrice if you want me to stop or you don't feel okay", he instructs carefully. you nod at his intrusions.

"okay?", he asks again and you nod again.

"words, i need words my love", he prompts and you finally speak, squeaking out a small yes, still scared about being on the bike and the corners of his mouth tug up in a small smile.

you watch as he puts on his big biker gloves before taking the helmet from your hands and placing it on your head, adjusting as needed. he puts on his helmet too and waits. you're confused and hold onto his jacket to brace yourself. he opens the visor on his helmet before speaking.

"love, you gotta hold onto me", he says, startling you for a second. "i-i-am", you stutter out in surprise.

"that's not going to work", he says and wordlessly reaches out his hands to yours, guiding them around his waist and you hold onto him now. "that's much better", he remarks, satisfied before telling you he was going to start, putting down his visor.

the bike starts and wonwoo pushes off, riding in the direction home. and fuck, you had underestimated the speed that you'd be going at. your grip around wonwoo tightens and he smiles to himself. wonwoo's grateful for the helmet because gosh, he was melting under your touch truly. he finds you cute, so so cute and all his.

he still remembers the day he first met you. it was at the convenience store where he found you feeding a few of the stray cats that he usually feeds. he'd just gone in to buy some food for them and when he came out walking around to the back, he saw you. you were crouched down as you handed the cats some food and watched them eat with a tender smile on your face. it's was only a few seconds later that you had finally noticed his presence, standing up in a rush.

seeing the strange man in front of you all of a sudden, you panicked, taking a step back until wonwoo spoke.

"you feed them too?", he inquired, tilting his head to the side with geunine curiosity. he remembers the way you nodded your head shyly and the way you took him in, your gaze lingering at his tattoed arm that was exposed, the sleeves rolled up a bit.

from that moment on, your paths seemed to cross more frequently. wonwoo found himself drawn to your presence, often finding excuses to linger around the convenience store in hopes of encountering you once more. you'd get so nervous and shy every time he'd come around on that big bike of his, wearing that leather jacket that made him look so cool and his hair that had grown into a mullet that was a little long and shaggy and fell over his forehead and eyes, making him look hot, paired with the tattoos that covered his one arm, he looked irresistible. and not to forget his towering height - oh he was hot.

it had been almost six months into dating and you'd still never ridden on his bike before, until now. wonwoo gestures his hand in a thumbs up, asking you if you are okay and you tap his chest once. he smiles, glad, but really, you were scared, hanging onto wonwoo for dear life. you feel his hand gently intertwine in yours to reassure you as he slows down at a signal. you sit up a little straighter now, allowing your grip around his waist to loosen just a little.

he starts up again, accelerating again. you clutch onto him a little tighter than last time, closing your eyes. the rush of speed and nerves overwhelming you. you tap him twice, indicating you want him to slow down a little and he does, slowing down at a manageable speed for you but still going at a steady pace. as the minutes pass, you find the courage to open your eyes, lifting your head to take in your surroundings. to your surprise, you realized that you were in familiar territory—the neighbourhood where wonwoo lived. with his home now just a mere ten minutes away, a sense of relief washed over you, tempered with a newfound sense of accomplishment for conquering your fears, if only for a moment.

the rest of the ride is smooth. once wonwoo reaches his home, he parks the bike, turns off the engine, mountings his legs on the ground. your arms are still around his waist, gripping him tighter than ever because the bike was now leaning towards the left since he'd put it on the stand. you were somehow convinced that you were going to fall off if you didn't hold onto wonwoo. he takes off his helmet and sets it down in front of him on the gas tank.

"you okay love?", he asks when you haven't let go of him yet. "yeah i'm okay", you manage out softly, your voice muffled through the helmet.

you reluctantly take your hands off wonwoo and move your hands up to take off your helmet. wonwoo gets down first, his height and long legs making it easier for him than for you. he takes both helmets, placing them on the small bench in his yard.

as you remained perched on the bike, a hesitation rushed through you, with the sudden reluctance to dismount the bike. gazing down at the ground beneath you, you tried to steady yourself, despite knowing there was no real risk of falling. with a nervous gulp, you raised your eyes to meet wonwoo's, finding him regarding you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

wonwoo shakes his head a little, letting out a soft exhale, letting his hair breathe finally. he runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, the strands falling in an adorable mess around his face. he continues to look at you, wondering why you haven't gotten off yet.

"need help?", he prompts. "how am i supposed to-", you trail off, feeling embarrassed. you manage to swing your one leg to the other side and now you're settled in a sideways position, holding onto the bike so you don't slide off entirely. wonwoo walks forward and wordlessly holds onto you, his hands finding your waist to steady you as you peer up at him.

"i'll pick you up, just wrap your legs around my waist," he says calmly, and you furrow your brows for a second before nodding in understanding. wonwoo lifts you up effortlessly and you instinctively encircle your legs around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck for support. his one arm supported you, securely wrapped around your waist as he held you up. the proximity made your heart rate rush and you lean more into him so you don't fall off.

he grabs the bike keys before heading to the door, unlocking the door with ease and walking inside with you, holding onto you securely. you admire wonwoo up close and gosh, he was so handsome and pretty.

wonwoo sets you down on the kitchen island countertop, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment as you look at him. as you meet his eyes, you can't help but notice how your height almost matches his towering height now. he gives you a small but comforting smile before his hands move off your waist. he unzips his jacket, taking it off, only to expose his tattoed arm as he slides the jacket off, making you gasp ever so softly at the sight. you'd seen wonwoo's tattoos plenty of times before, but they never failed to leave you in awe every time you saw them. despite wonwoo's intimidating appearance - for someone who looked cold, badass and was so buff, he was so soft, sweet and gentle. it was a contrast that never failed to captivate you, drawing you closer to the enigma that was wonwoo.

wonwoo's wearing a sleeveless compression shirt and as you look at him, it's slowly turning your brain to mush with the way it was hugging his body perfectly at all the right places, showing off his build and muscles. the way the fabric hugged and accentuated every sculpted muscle of his sent your thoughts spiralling in a whirlwind. you have to tear your eyes away, opting to look at your lap instead, feeling the rush of heat flood your cheeks. wonwoo smirks to himself when he catches you checking him out and stealing glances at him, a little boost to his ego.

he takes off the gloves, placing them on the counter and finally, his attention is back on you. he looks at you, stepping forward so that he was closer, standing between your legs as he lifts your chin up so that you can meet his gaze.

"what's going on?", he asks softly, his hand caressing your cheek as he looks at you sweetly. your eyes dart to the side before returning to his unwavering gaze.

"i-i don't know", you confess as you look at him. "i just needed some space i guess, everything got too much", you tell and his gaze softens as he looks at you.

"next time you want to escape, at least call me, i can take you", he murmurs, his words carrying a sense of reassurance and comfort. you gulp at the closeness and his words as he stares into your soul.

"yeah-okay", you mumbled softly, blinking at him, getting nervous again. the way wonwoo could render you a shy nervous mess in mere seconds was something that needed to be studied.

before you can dwell on your response more , wonwoo closes the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and gentle kiss. a rush of warmth floods your body and in that moment, everything seems to stop. he pulls away and you hope he can't hear how loud and fast your heart is beating.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him forward as you bury your face in his chest, engulfing him in a hug. wonwoo's arms instantly wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him, letting you bask in his embrace, the comforting weight of his presence grounding you as he hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. at that moment, amidst the warmth of his embrace, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of quiet intimacy.

bonus: the intrusive thoughts really won here

you riding the bike with wonwoo again, the wind is refreshing as he glides on the roads. after that day, you'd gotten a little more confident and okay with riding on wonwoo's bike. but now, it was like second nature to you. your hands are around wonwoo's waist before you have a little mischievous thought and you smile to yourself. your hands slowly creep up to his chest, your fingers finding the buttons of his shirt as you slowly undo them. wonwoo has no idea what's happening until he glances dow n at the feeling of your hands on his chest, seeing what you are doing.

"what are you doing?", he asks, his voice filling your helmet and you suppress the urge to laugh.

"i'm showing the world how sexy my boyfriend is, though i should be gatekeeping you actually", you tease, undoing another button as wonwoo's shirt now hangs on for dear life. your hands creep up under his shirt and you hear the soft groan he lets out as your hands caress his abs and you grin, satisfied knowing the effect you were having on him.

"oh love, you are so in for it when we get home", he says making you chuckle as you hug him tighter.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @kyeomyun @lvlystars @blue-jisungs @wootify @ihrtboo @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq

@joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @mirxzii @wheeboo @writingmeraki @wqnwoos

[lightseoul]

Hello! For your event can i get #11 ?

hello, sure! this took quite a while for me to get around to doing, but i hope the wait was worth it <3 thank you for playing!

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

warnings. minors dni, please!

11. "IS THAT MY SHIRT?" (1.4k)

under other circumstances, today would’ve been filed under the non-descript mornings with which you start your unremarkable days.

the sun is barely peeking through the curtains, the temperature is not too cold but not too hot, and you’re buried in freshly washed bedding that smells divine.

and so it’s not really your fault for thinking for a modicum of a second that today was just like any other day.

if it weren’t for the muscled arm slung across your bare waist.

you’re yanked from your half-asleep stupor the second you see it, and you jolt in shock before you can stop yourself. the man beside you, thankfully, doesn’t stir awake.

with wide eyes, you chance a glance at the decidedly naked person next to you (if your sense of touch wasn’t betraying you), and the sight that greets you nearly makes you faint.

because what the fuck are you doing in bed—naked—with the bakugou katsuki?

suddenly the areas where your skin meets his are becoming way too hot, and you’re hit with the visceral urge to get away from the man.

and so as discreetly and quietly as you can, you lift the arm that’s wrapped around your midriff, but freeze when his grip tightens and he shifts every so minutely. sneaking a peek again, now at his face, you study the man with caution as his eyebrows furrow for a beat before they relax along with the rest of his features.

you don’t allow yourself to revel in how peaceful he looks, or dwell on the fact that you may have just fucked this man last night, choosing to try again and wrestle yourself out of his hold. to your relief, he doesn’t resist, even in slumber, and you’re able to slide out of the bed with minimal noise and motion, thanks to his firm, exquisite mattress.

you wonder how firm it proved to be last night…

you mentally slap yourself.

now is not the time to be horny.

it instantly dawns on you how naked you are, standing in this man’s bedroom fully bare, and so you scan the room for any sign of your undergarments and clothing. it doesn’t take you a while to spot your panties, and then your bra a few seconds later—both of which are notably plain and not at all sexy. you try to fight the cringe as you shimmy into them—obviously, you didn’t anticipate getting any action yesterday—eyes darting across the area in search of your shirt. they finally land on the black article that’s unceremoniously sprawled across near the foot of the bed, and you waste no time putting it on.

and as you find your trousers and squeeze yourself into them, you let your brain wander to what got you here in the first place.

you remember being strung along by your girlfriends into that exclusive bar that’s said to be frequented by many pro-heroes. you don’t know how your designated planner friend managed to get you guys entry, but you didn’t question it, choosing to just enjoy the atmosphere and drink good booze with good company.

in fact, you may have drunk too much good booze because your memory drifts in and out a few hours into settling into a booth in the bar. you recall one friend pointing to a group of three men who looked suspiciously like pro-heroes cellophane, red riot, and dynamight, as well as you laughing at how it couldn’t be.

you wince at the memory of said friend, who knows about the big, fat, embarrassing crush you have on the ash-blonde hero, dragging you to where they sat and introducing yourselves to the men.

at that point, you were tipsy and bordering on drunk, and dead convinced that they were just wannabes who wanted to look like their hero idols. but the guy with the crimson eyes that were notably boring into you looked too much like bakugou that you threw all caution to the wind and just went along with it, too curious about the person in front of you.

but now, as you stand smack dab in the middle of this pristine bedroom that can only belong to a very highly-paid, famously all-might-loving hero, you’re flooded by a wave of dizzying nausea.

dizzying nausea that doubles up when your eyes catch the ridiculously sculpted arms of the man who’s still lying on his stomach, seemingly fast asleep.

you can relive and fact-check your fantasies later, when you’re alone and in the safety of your much more modest apartment unit, but not now.

and so with a slightly heavy heart, you turn around and silently twist the knob, ready to tiptoe the hell out of his room with your purse in tow.

but all hopes of making a quiet exit get thrown out of his bougie-ass windows when the door fucking creaks so loud, that you don’t have to look behind you to know that the man just shot awake.

you stand there, frozen with your back turned against him, for what feels like forever, before ultimately deciding that you can’t just walk out the door now like nothing happened lest you come off as a fucking lunatic.

and so with a deep inhale, you steel yourself for the incoming shitshow, and turn.

you try not to stare at his crazy, stupid, built torso or his beautiful face that’s looking all too stunned as you awkwardly gesture to the door.

“you ought to lubricate this door of yours,” you quip, capping it with a laugh, although it comes out stilted.

and when he doesn’t say anything, “…sorry i woke you up.”

that must’ve been enough to sober him up, because he finally speaks up. “shit—no, i—”

he cuts himself off as he scrambles to get up, and you turn around just in time to not see his dick dangle as he searched for his boxers. you hear rustling and things being turned upside down as you wait for him to get dressed.

“just a sec,” he calls out, before: “have you seen my—is that my shirt?”

before you can think better against it, you whip around to look at where he’s gesturing, only to be met with him, now in his boxer shorts, staring straight at you.

“wha—?”

you look down to where his gaze is fixed, and sure enough, the shirt you’re wearing is decisively not yours.

“fuck—” you start, flaming in embarrassment, “i’m sorry, i thought it was mine. i—let me just—” you trail off just as your eyes land on another black shirt near your feet, and you’re about to scoop it up and turn and hurriedly strip off his shirt when he speaks up.

“no, it’s okay.” you freeze, bent over and hand just barely having grasped the shirt off the floor. and when he doesn’t say anything, you slowly straighten up, fighting to maintain eye contact.

he’s scowling now.

“you don’t have to scurry like a fucking rat, dumbass,” he spits, although there’s not much bite to it. he’s looking a tad bit embarrassed, too. hesitating for a second, he diverts his gaze, before: “can’t i at least cook you breakfast?”

you pick up your jaw that just dropped to the floor as fast as you can. “you—you mean you don’t want me to leave just yet?”

at that, he scoffs. “what do you take me for, a fuckboy?”

he says it so incredulously you almost snort. instead, you cock your head a bit to the right, not entirely able to deny your impressions of him.

“seriously?” he splutters for a beat, before sighing in resignation. shaking his head, he finally shifts to meet your eyes and regard you, the switch in the air to that of palpable seriousness so potent.

“i don’t normally do this,” he states, gaze remaining fixed on yours, as if he’s trying to communicate the rest with just his eyes.

you don’t have to ask him what ‘this’ means.

and so you reply just as honestly. “me, neither.”

neither of you says anything for a brief moment, the revelations from both of you taking up the small space between.

“so,” bakugou breaks the silence eventually, “breakfast?”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Birdie's Halloween

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: The fifteenth of my Halloween-centric fics

"Listen, Mum," Mary says as she weaves through the aisles of the store," I'd love to chat but I'm really quite busy right now."

"Oh yes, I'll let you get back to what you're doing," Mary's mother says on the other end of the phone," But just remember to send me her Christmas list, alright? And maybe that list of-"

"Mum," Mary says again," Seriously, I have to go."

"I know, I know but- Oh! I didn't tell you. Mrs Todds - you remember Mrs Todds, right? Anyway, Mrs Todds from next door said-"

"Mum. Me, go. Have to. Alright?"

"Oh, fine, Mary. You go. I'll call tonight. We can finish this then."

"Great," Mary mutters, looking down at her phone impassively," I'll look forward to it." She sighs, shaking her head and slipping the device back into her pocket with the startlingly discovery that she's lost you.

Again.

It's actually kind of incredible how she can lose an eight year old and her puppy in such a small store.

"Birdie!" She calls out," Birdie!"

There's no answer.

Mary sighs. "Y/n! I mean it, come here!"

Your head pops around one of the aisles and Newton's golden fur moves in speedy circles as he waits for Mary to get closer.

"You can't keep wandering off," Mary tells you, taking your hand," What happens if I lose you?"

Ever practical, you reply," Well, if I get lost then I have to go to the nearest shop worker or mother and tell them I'm lost. I have your number on my ID necklace so I get them to call that."

You beam up at her and Mary laughs despite herself.

"You know, I think Tooney was right when she called you a little smartass."

You keep beaming. "Ella's just jealous she's not as smart as me."

"But at least she knows not to wander off in a store."

"I have Newton with me."

Mary gives you a pointed look, staring down at your very dopey dog who's only now growing into his service dog vest. He's great for your emotional regulation and anticipating meltdowns but for your physical protection, not so much.

"Still," Mary says," Let's just stay close, alright?"

You huff, muttering," Just because you don't speak French," but still keep close as Mary looks through the racks of costumes.

"And you're absolutely certain you want to match?"

"Yes."

"Alright then."

It's nowhere near your first Halloween with Mary but it's your first with Newton, your adorable service pup who enjoys things like sleeping on a heated blanket and accidentally treading on his own ears.

Usually, you choose something to match with Mary but you don't want Newton to feel left out, especially because of everything he does for you.

Newton's your best friend in the whole world, even more than the horses at the barn you go to for your lessons.

So this year, you're foregoing a matching outfit with Mary in favour of one with Newton which is what led to Mary spending hours looking for a shop in Paris that sold human costumes and dog costumes.

"What about this one?"

You wrinkle your nose up at the cheap ghost costume Mary holds up for you.

"That's basic," You complain, "Newton deserves better."

Newton seems to whine in agreement, sitting up on his haunches in the same way he begs for scraps when he's off duty.

"Fine," Mary grumbles," Fine. We'll find something better."

"Newton's a gentlemen," You continue," That's why he deserves a better costume."

Mary smiles fondly as you go look through the racks yourself.

Newton whines a little ten minutes later, wedging his body between you and the costumes when he notices how distressed you're getting.

Mary notices too, guiding you away from the dog section to ones more your size.

"Let's choose yours first," She says gently," Are we going scary or cute?"

"Cute," You mumble, running your hand through Newton's soft fur.

"How about these?"

Mary lets you be for the most part, taking items off the rack to show you the choices.

"That one," You mumble, already halfway to non-verbal as you repeatedly run a hand through Newton's fur," Please."

"Good choice, Birdie," Mary says," Shall we choose one for Newton today or-?"

You nod your head, shuffling back to the dog aisle as Mary throws your Belle dress into the basket.

You rifle through the racks quickly, though one hand remains rooted around Newton's leash.

"This one?" Mary checks as you pull one out for her to take. "You're going to be Belle and Newton's going to be the Beast."

You nod.

"Good choice," She says," Let's pay for these and we'll head home. There's some chocolate milk with your name on it."

[seulw0nz]

` ꣑꣒‎ ONE WIN, ONE DATE : 심재윤 ─── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

ʬʬ. football player!jake x cheerleader!reader 𖥔 ݁ ARCHiVE 7OO wordcount fluff . . . skinship, kisses ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ happy bday to jakey, && for my juni bby

YOU'RE STANDING ON THE SIDELINES, pom-poms in hand, watching jake tear through the field like he owns it. he’s got this intensity in his eyes, the kind that makes your pulse pick up because you know he’s giving it his all—just to win this game. all for one reason: he bet you that if he wins, he gets to ask you out.

it’s been a fun, flirty thing between you two for weeks now, but this? this is new. he made sure the whole team knew about his little bet, which has them teasing him endlessly about finally "making a move on his dream girl." you catch a few of his teammates smirking and nudging him before the game starts, and jake just rolls his eyes with a lopsided grin, eyes glancing at you every now and then. you swear you can feel his gaze even from across the field.

the game is close, way too close for your liking. you’re on edge, practically jumping each time he gets the ball, and maybe you’re clapping a little louder than anyone else (not that you liked him, or maybe you did). in the final minutes, it’s tied, and jake’s team has the ball. you watch as he gets the ball, weaving through the opposing team with an ease.

the crowd holds its breath, and so do you.

with a swift, clean kick, jake scores, sealing the win. the stadium erupts, but jake’s eyes find you instantly, a smug, triumphant smile on his face as he’s mobbed by his teammates. when they finally let him go, he sprints over to you, his eyes lighting up with joy.

“so…” he starts, leaning over, hands on his knees, slightly out of breath but still managing to look cocky. “still gonna pretend you’re not into me?”

you roll your eyes, though your cheeks are definitely giving you away. “who said i was ever into you?”

“i could tell.” jake flashes that heart-melting smile, moving closer. you’re aware of the other cheerleaders watching, and you’re definitely aware of his hand grazing your waist, lingering just long enough to make your heart race.

“oh, yeah? you’re that confident?” you ask, trying to sound unaffected, but your voice betrays you.

“confident enough to win a game for you,” he says with a smirk. “and i did say i’d ask you out if i won.”

“so ask away, sim,” you challenge, folding your arms.

he lets out a chuckle, his fingers brushing yours as if testing the waters. “okay, let me ask properly, then.” jake clears his throat dramatically, taking your hand in his. “y/n, would you do me the honor of going out with me?”

you’re pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach are doing somersaults, but you manage to keep your cool—sort of. “hmm… maybe. depends. what kind of date are we talking about?”

jake grins, squeezing your hand gently. “whatever you want. something fun. something that’ll make you smile like that.” he nods at you, obviously noticing the way your lips are curving, despite your attempt to stay composed.

“fine,” you say, relenting with a playful eye roll. “but only because you tried so hard.”

he leans in, closer than before, his voice just above a whisper. “only the best for you.”

your heart skips, and you glance down, trying to hide the way his words affect you. but jake isn’t done; he tilts your chin up, meeting your gaze. "guess you’re stuck with me now.”

“guess so,” you whisper, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you realize he’s not moving back. his hand is still at your waist, his thumb gently tracing circles on your hip. the stadium is still loud around you, but it feels like it’s just the two of you here, his face inches from yours.

“think i can get a ‘good game’ kiss?” he asks with a wink, his voice teasing but hopeful. you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way you’re smiling now.

“don’t push your luck, sim.” but before he can respond, you lean up, giving him the quickest, softest peck on the lips. it’s barely there, but it’s enough to make his eyes widen in surprise and a smile spread across his face.

“you’re making me want to win every game now,” he says, looking down at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“i guess you’ll just have to keep scoring, then,” you reply with a grin, stepping back slightly, though your hand stays in his, fingers tangled together.

“oh, trust me, y/n,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on you, “i’ll be scoring a lot.”

[buckevantommy]

Everyone's always telling Buck what he should do. Okay, sometimes he did ask for their advice, but every piece of advice he's followed through on lately has ended badly and everything they tell him to do he doesn't actually want to do.

He should want to do something if it's supposed to make him feel better, if it's supposed to be better for him, right?

Josh told him to bulldoze ahead and tell Tommy what he wanted. Tommy told him to re-enact his Buck 1.0 days and spend time with some indeterminate amount of people until he finds someone forever. Maddie and Chim told him to start dating again and also wait for the universe to bring him someone special; another someone. Hen and Eddie told him not to contact Tommy.

He doesn't want to do any of that! He wants to talk to Tommy, to see him, to get Tommy to talk to him instead of giving up on them and running away because he's scared. He wants to tell Tommy he loves him. He wants Tommy to know first and last aren't mutually exclusive. He wants to yell at Tommy, and kiss him, and hold him. He wants Tommy to apologise for breaking his heart and for being a dumbass. He wants Tommy to believe him when he says he won't do the same; well, he might be a dumbass sometimes - but he would never break Tommy’s heart. He wants to apologise for jumping ahead but also not have to apologise for wanting a life with Tommy or for being too much.

Since that first night Tommy kissed him, he's felt reborn. Not in some starry-eyed way that Tommy seems to think is fake and won't last, but in the way that he's shed the skin of past Buck upgrades and finally grown into his body, become comfortable in who he is instead of trying to fit a facade that other people would accept. Always too big, too much, not enough, never content to just sit in his self and be without his worries and insecurities moulding him into something else, something with a better chance of getting people to like him, love him, stay with him. 

He’s never felt more himself or more at ease in a relationship that meant something to him than he did with Tommy. Never felt more wholly seen - the good, the bad, and the too-much and not enough - by his partner and adored anyway, wanted anyway.

Halfway through making swiss meringue buttercream instead of breakfast, he realises he's thinking about Tommy. His coping skill, as Bobby called it, has stopped working.

There's butter and sugar in the creases of his hands and nailbeds even after he hurriedly wipes them with the dishcloth over his shoulder. He can see it as he scoops up his phone from the charger and thumbs over to his message thread with Tommy, leaving greasy crumby residue on the screen.

i saw you bubbling

After it happened, after the Chief distracted everyone enough for him to grab his phone and retreat somewhere he wouldn't be disturbed, he'd stared at the space where the unsent message had appeared for twenty minutes waiting for the type bubble to reappear. Waiting for Tommy to hit send on whatever he'd backtyped.

Buck's mind had spiralled with all the possibilities and while it spiralled and he stared and waited he never got around to actually calling or texting Tommy himself. And then the bell rang.

He has time, now. He has things he wants to say.

you were going to tell me something an maybe i wont like what it was but just knowing you almost reached out is kinda driving me crazy bc i have a fridge full of baked goods bc everytime i think about calling you i bake and now i havnt cooked a proper meal in my own place in over a week bc i dont have room in my damn fridge to store anything besides chocholate chip bananan bread and baked alaskas

He wants to say: and it's all your fault! but that's not the whole truth. Buck played his part in this, set the wheels in motion that drove Tommy away from him. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? And Tommy should've known by now he doesn't really do 'slow'.

i'm not sorry for being too much bc i shouldnt haveto apologize for being myself

Screw it. Can't get any worse, right? Tommy's getting all of him whether he likes it or not.

i dont see you as some queer life coach or someone to fill space until someon else comes along

thats not who i am

i thought you knew me better than that but whatevr ig

i wanted to live with you bc i want a life with you bc i love you

i love you

i shouldve said that first

Send after send, typing like a man possessed, he gets out everything that's been pent up inside him since the shock wore off a week ago.

His chest is heaving as the adrenaline rushes through his veins. And his eyes sting. He has to blink away tears as he reads over the last message.

He never told Tommy. Tommy doesn't know. Maybe Buck wasn't sure that night Josh asked him, but he knows it now.

i wanted you to be my last

He still does.

i wanna hate you for giving up on us

but i cant seem to hate you

This whole thing would hurt a lot less if he could just hate Tommy for what he did. It would hurt a lot less if they could find a way through this mess, together, and come out the other side stronger because they know each other better and know they want to fight for what they have.

Real love is worth fighting for. Red taught him that. Real love isn’t found, it’s made. Old gay Thomas taught him that.

Well, Buck found Tommy. Or, the universe did. And he’s going to fight, dammit, because he wants to build a future with Tommy. 

His vision has blurred with hot tears. Movement on his screen catches his attention from where his gaze had drifted over to the couch where Tommy had stayed to take care of him through his Billy Boils saga.

Tommy is bubbling him.

Buck’s heart lurches in his chest. His breath catches.

can we talk?

There’s a huff of something like manic laughter as he swipes at his snotty nose.

that’s what i typed

Hope blooms in his chest, sudden and bright and painful in the best way.  

can we?

I think I owe it to you to yell at me in person

There’s a long moment where Buck tries to return his breathing to normal but its bated as he watches three little dots appear, then disappear. 

Then reappear. 

Then disappear.

Then:

I don’t want to give up on us either

Buck’s tears are still making his vision watery, but now they’re tears of joy. He did what he wanted to do - he reached out. And Tommy heard him.

He should take his own advice more often.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 6 – The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad

I will preface this entry with an acknowledgement to my father. He is the most intelligent, quick-witted, and level-headed person I know. He’s also a bit of a bitch and tends to be blatantly honest. Sometimes that honesty hurts but it’s also nice to know he’s the one person in this world who won’t feed me a line of bullshit. He is also the best friend we all need.

On October 16, my father called me – like he does almost every day – to chat about, like usual, absolutely nothing. But, on this day, I was quite distracted (because the Time article about Nicola had just come out), which he called me out on almost immediately. Our conversation went something along the lines of:

Dad: “I can tell you’re not paying attention to me.”

Me: “Oh, I’m just reading an article that came out today. Actually, can I ask you a question about it?”

Dad: “Sure.”

Me: “I just want to read something to you, and I want you to tell me what you think this person is saying.”

Dad: “Okay.”

I then proceeded to read him verbatim the snippet from the Times article where Nicola talks about her relationship with Luke.

Me: “What do you think she is saying?”

Dad: “That this person is her best friend, and she thinks very highly of them.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Dad: “Why?”

Well, he opened the door so I gave him the backstory. I explained who Nicola and Luke were. I explained Bridgerton. I explained their chemistry during the World Tour. During this 15-or-so-minute conversation, my father took to renaming Nicola “Ireland” and Luke “Thang,” because that’s how he remembers things. Then I brought up the Claddagh ring.

Dad: “Wait. Stop – STOP! – STOP!! I said STOP TALKING! Why didn’t you lead off with this ring? I change my answer. She’s saying she’s in love with this guy!”

Me: “What?”

Dad: “Whatever you read earlier – I change my answer. She’s not saying they’re best friends. She’s saying she’s in love with him.”

Me: “Are you being legit?”

Dad: “Absolutely! Now, go back to the beginning because Ireland and Thang are a thing.”

Welcome aboard the USS Lukola, Daddy.

Recently, this conversation with my father got me thinking about how naïve I have been in believing all Lukolas were aware of the significance of Nicola’s Claddagh. I mean, surely, most of us know the term and meaning of “ring truther,” right?

Maybe not.

I’ve always chucked the Jakolas and A-holes up to be Conscientiously Stupid about the ring – disregarding it because it didn’t fit their narrative. But, shit, maybe they just don’t understand the Holy Grail of the Lukola fandom. So, I figured today, I’d dedicate my entry to explaining the ring to those who have no fucking clue what we mean when we say, “we’ll die on that ring!”

If you don’t want a history lesson or my opinion on the significance of the ring, you can move along and wait for my next post. Otherwise, happy reading. Actually, it’s a rather dull read – but informative. You may just need some caffeine to keep your focus up.

GENERAL HISTORY:

The Claddagh originates from Galway – yes, Nicola’s hometown in Ireland – and has been around for over 400 years. The ring typically shows two hands holding a heart which wears a crown, with the hands symbolizing friendship, the heart signifying love, and the crown representing loyalty.

The way a person wears their Claddagh traditionally signifies their relationship status.

On the RIGHT hand, with the HEART FACING OUTWARD away from your body (and towards your fingertips) means you are single, i.e, your heart is available for love.

On the RIGHT hand, with the HEART FACING INWARD towards your body (and towards the back of your hand), suggests you are in a committed relationship, i.e., your heart is taken.

On the LEFT hand, with the HEART FACING OUTWARD away from your body (and towards your fingertips) means you are engaged.

On the LEFT hand, with the HEART FACING INWARD towards your body (and towards the back of your hand), suggests you are married.

This is not gospel so please do not finish reading this post and start running around in circles, jumping up and down, exclaiming Nicola is married.

NICOLA’S CLADDAGH:

In June, Chupi announced it had designed and created a Claddagh for Nicola and noted “Nicola reached out to Chupi recently and requested a bespoke Claddagh Ring to celebrate the third season of Bridgerton.” Nicola’s ring was custom-made and differs from virtually all other Claddagh rings in that the hands of the ring also display rings of their own.

After creating the ring for Nicola, Chupi continued to sell it through its website, noting that the heart-shaped diamond in the ring was “[h]eld in a pair of hands that honor friendship and strength, with the left hand wearing a North Star signet ring.” In its original description, and for four months following this initial announcement, Chupi never explained the meaning of the ring on the right hand holding the diamond. We will speculate on that in a moment. Further, Chupi explained that the three diamonds in the crown “represent the traditional emblem of loyalty and also symbolize the past, present & future, along with a nod to the fact this is the 3rd season of Bridgerton.” There’s that Bridgerton reference again.

Now, let’s break down the hands holding the heart-shaped diamond, starting with the left hand.

The left hand is wearing a signet ring. This one is easy to explain because Chupi described the ring the left hand is wearing for us. It is the North Star signet ring, which Chupi sells through its website as its “North Star Diamond Original Signet Ring.” Chupi explained that the ring represented “True North.” What is “true north?” Besides its literal meaning, the phrase “true north” represents your “internal compass or your personal calling” and “your authentic self.”

The right hand is wearing a ring on its middle finger. This ring has always been a bit of a conundrum. As mentioned above, Chupi never explained this ring in its original description. In fact, it remained silent on its significance until November 1. And, even after it “explained away” the middle finger ring in an Instagram story (which disappeared after 24 hours), Chupi never updated its website to confirm its meaning. Why? Well, you’ll find that most “ring truthers” believe it’s because this middle finger ring represents Luke. Luke often wears a ring on his middle right finger. In fact, in his People spread for Sexiest Man Alive released November 14, he’s seen wearing a ring on his right-hand middle finger. You can also find him wearing a ring on his right-hand middle finger throughout the Bridgerton Season 3 World Tour.

But, let’s pretend for a moment that the rings on the two hands holding the diamond heart have no significance whatsoever. That does not negate the fact the ring was made as a nod to Bridgerton Season 3. Yes, the season that both Nicola and Luke repeatedly described during interviews throughout the World Tour as their “shared experience.”

To round out this little “history lesson,” and just so I am completely up front, on November 1, 2024, Chupi reshared to its IG stories a story shared by Ashley McDonnell explaining that the right-hand middle finger ring on the Chupi-branded Claddagh represented “power” (basically, women’s empowerment). As of that date, Chupi had also removed all mentions of Bridgerton from its Claddagh ring descriptions and left only a reference to the rings being “inspired by” Nicola. However, the Claddagh could still be found under Chupi’s “Engagement” ring section and the articles titled, “Designing a Chupi Claddagh Ring for Nicola Coughlan” and “What Way to Wear a Claddagh Ring” still, to this day, reside under its “News” section. These articles still reference the ring’s ties to the third season of Bridgerton.

A BUNCH OF POINTS I’M TRYING TO MAKE:

Point 1: Nicola had the ring commissioned herself, per Chupi. We can surmise she understands the meaning of the ring based on her Irish (and Galway) heritage; thus, we can also deduce she knows the meaning behind how it is worn.

Point 2: The ring is important to Nicola. I’m not even going to use disclaiming phrases like “may be” or “seems to be;” I’m just flat out stating the “ring IS important” to her. She has been seen wearing it a lot in her personal time. In fact, on September 20, she was photographed wearing the Claddagh during the Gucci afterparty, which means she took off the “workday” jewelry she had been wearing earlier in the day to put the Claddagh back on her finger. She has not been shy about flashing it in public. From her Chupi articles to her Tatcha stories to wearing it in public (at concerts, walking about).

Point 3: Based on comments made by Chupi on June 25 in its article titled, “Designing a Chupi Claddagh Ring for Nicola Coughlan,” it took four weeks “from a sketch to sparkling reality” to make the ring. This means, at the latest, it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024. However, some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches uploaded by Chupi indicate it was as early as April 26 (don’t even side eye me; I didn’t pull that shit). Based on this information, the ring was likely commissioned during and/or between the World Tour stops in Australia and Italy.

Point 4: Nicola wore the ring publicly as early as June 6 during the Dublin premiere. At that time, she wore it on her right-hand middle finger with the heart facing inwards. The way she wore the ring was also evidenced the following day in Galway by way of pictures in Chupi’s article titled, “What Way to Wear a Claddagh Ring.”

Point 5: Nicola flashed that glittering baby in her June 15 Tatcha IG post (I’m convinced that post holds so many secrets) and continued to wear it throughout the summer months (on her right-hand middle finger) as evidenced by pictures of her at the Taylor Swift Eras tour and in her August 1 Tatcha IG post. And, let’s round out the summer with her displaying the ring in her September 17 Tatcha IG stories, on September 20 during the Gucci afterparty, and in Alex Babsky’s September 25 IG post about Nicola being “in London today.”

Point 6: On October 1, Nicola had seemingly switched her diamond Claddagh from her right hand to her left-hand middle finger as exhibited in her Choose Love IG story. This switch was further indicated (but not confirmed because she conveniently put her caption over it) in her October 5 airplane IG story (deduced from the small gold band switching to her right hand) and in pap pictures of her published on October 8. On October 11, when she posted her Olaplex IG story, it appeared the ring was on her left-hand ring finger. We can also barely see the ring in the October 21 “Polin” picture; however, it cannot be determined if it is on her left-hand middle or ring finger. We haven’t seen her “out in the wild” since so the current status of her ring is not known, but we can probably safely assume she’s still wearing it, with the heart facing in.

Point 7: I believe everyone needs to make their own decision as to whether the right hand of the Claddagh – the one wearing the middle finger ring – represents Luke. Personally, I believe it does, but it is perfectly fine if you disagree. It could very well be a "power move." I’ve always believed the left hand of the Claddagh – the one wearing the North Star signet ring – represented “true north,” or Nicola’s internal compass to choose her own path. But, please do not let my opinion cloud your own.

Point 8: Regardless of your opinion about the hands holding the Claddagh’s heart-shaped diamond, the ring was acknowledged to represent Bridgerton Season 3 and that has Luke all over it.

Point 9: From Day 1, Nicola has worn the Claddagh with the heart facing inwards, meaning her heart is taken. To the best of my knowledge, this has never changed.

MY THOUGHTS:

First and foremost, Nicola has told the world her heart is taken.

Based on the above, why would Nicola wear that ring for anyone but Luke?

My father’s response: “She wouldn’t.”

Why? Because it would be fucking weird if she did.

Let’s play pretend for a moment.

You’re dating Nicola (and, NO, you can’t be Luke in this scenario). You’ve watched Nicola’s Bridgerton press tour for the past, say, six months. You’ve watched her flirt with Luke. You’re fully aware Lukolas ship her with Luke. In fact, you’re aware several of her castmates and crew ship her with Luke. You’re aware that, by the end of the World Tour, interviewers were getting bold enough to ask Nicola and Luke about their “friendship” because they, too, were intrigued by their chemistry. You’re also aware that, “People want [her] to marry Luke.” And, you’re fully aware that Nicola had that Claddagh ring made to, at a minimum, remind her of Bridgerton Season 3, the season she shared with Luke.

Would you be okay with her wearing THAT ring to signify the state of YOUR relationship with her?

If you are, get the fuck off my page.

Now, riddle me this, Batman –

Why was this ring made during the World Tour? And, more importantly, why was it worn during the World Tour?

Why did Luke and Nicola take a special trip to Galway? And (purely speculation here), why did the meeting with Nicola’s mum seem so emotional?

Why did the ring switch hands?

Why, Batman, why?

[muwapsturniolo]

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐟💨 Matt sturniolo

“ did you just?”

✗ Awkward asf but realistic, NSFW, sex, mentions of queefing, secondhand embarrassment, that’s it me thinks.

You wanted the world to swallow you whole, you wanted to disappear.

You knew it was a semi-normal thing to happen, yet you were still embarrassed. It happened to most girls when having sex, although you never thought it would happen to you - It’s never happened to you until now.

Your legs were spread wide open, a pair of rough hands pushing the back of your knees on either side of your head - You were in heaven. “O-oh fuck Matt,'' he groaned in retaliation, his hips driving into you harder, the squelching of your essence filling the room.

Every once in a while, you noticed Matt would make a face, his hips stuttering. You didn’t know why, you figured he was just struggling not to cum quickly and paint your insides that shade of white that you both love.

You didn't think much of it, he always made faces when you two were having sex.

He was very expressive.

You were so lost in the pleasure Matt was providing you, you missed a specific sound that came from your body. When Matt suddenly stopped all movement, you were confused.

Why did he stop?

Did he cum already?

Why is he staring at you with wide eyes?

Did you accidentally call him daddy again?

All you two could do was stare at each other for a solid minute or so, before you finally spoke up.

“W-why did you stop?”

“I uh…d-did you just…”

Your brows furrow in confusion, did you what? What is he talking about?

“Did I what Matt?”

He stares at you silently, the only sound in the room being the both of you breathing harshly from the sexual escapades that had come to a halt.

“N-nothing, never mind.” He shakes his head as he tries to dismiss whatever he was talking about. You didn’t have the chance to interrogate him further, his hips resuming their actions.

However, he only got about five more pumps in before you finally heard it.

You were mortified, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you stare at him with wide eyes. He met your gaze, his eyes equally as big as his actions halted once more.

“Did you just far-No!” You quickly cut him off, your cheeks hot and your heart beating fast.

“It’s ok if you did…I mean, it doesn’t smell - Plus, I know you had dairy, and you’re lactose intolerant, so it makes sense.”

You could not believe the words coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t believe this is happening to you out of all people.

“Matt, I didn’t -'' you wave your hands around, hoping he would get the gist of what you were saying.

You didn’t know why you hated the word fart, maybe it was because your parents raised you to say ‘passed gas’, and the word fart was too cringy for you.

“You didn’t? Then what the hell was that?”

“I-I think I queefed I-I don’t know!" Matt could tell you were flustered, your tone becoming defensive. “Ok, ok! Just calm down!” He lowers your legs and rubs at your thighs for comfort, attempting to calm you down as he remains inside you.

After a few minutes of silence, he speaks up. “D-did you want me to keep going or…?” He trails off, unsure of what you want.

To be honest, the mood for both of you was somewhat ruined. He wouldn't be shocked if you told him to stop. Hell, he was sure you probably would hold off on having sex for a while after this as well.

Much to his surprise, you nodded.

“Y-yeah, yeah you can keep going.” You try to push the awkward tension away, hoping, praying, begging that you wouldn’t queef again.

He nods and begins to thrust softly once more. You were tense, anxious your body would do it again, but it didn’t. You allow yourself to relax, to feel the pleasure once more.

Matt sees this and picks up the pace, drawing out soft moans and mewls from you. Despite your orgasm dwindling from the first two times he had stopped his ministrations, it was quickly rebuilding itself.

Matt could tell, and he was determined to push you over the edge.

He grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, planting his hands on both sides of your head as he drives his cock deeper into your aching cunt. The sexual energy in the room was potent, the previous moment long forgotten as you both explored each other's bodies.

"Oh fuck m'close. Come on ba-"

It happened....Again.

“Ok ok stop!” You basically yell out. He stumbles back as you push him, his cock slipping out of you with a small pop, followed by even more air being released.

It sounded like a deflating balloon, almost like Donald Duck was in the room himself.

You were on the verge of tears, this was too embarrassing. It didn't help that Matt was smirking, biting his lip as he held back laughter.

"D-don't you dare say anything!" Matt raises his hands in surrender, backing up even more and moving to the other side of the room. You sigh and sit up slowly, hoping you wouldn't release anymore more air from your vaginal canal.

It didn't work.

You could feel the air passing through your folds, creating that wet farting noise - thanks to the bodily fluids you secreted- and making your folds ripple softly.

A soft snicker is heard, making your head dart to Matt. "Shut up! Don't laugh, it's not funny!" You shout as you throw a pillow at him. He cackles loudly, dodging the pillow at the same time.

"I'm sorry but it's funny! She's speaking to me!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Mmcht, you're such a fucking boy." You mumble. You want to stand up and rush to the bathroom, but you didn't know if you could handle Matt's laughter at your excessive queefing.

"Get out."

"What? Baby come on, I'm sorry for laughing!"

"No, you're not. Now shut up and get out so I can go to the bathroom!" He holds back another round of laughter and slips on his boxers and sweatpants, quickly leaving the room and leaving you alone.

You waddle awkwardly to the bathroom, cringing every time another gush of air escapes you. As you stand in the bathroom, you quickly search up "How to get rid of queefs."

All you could find were multiple sources telling you there wasn't a way.

"Absolutely not, fuck this."

You try another search, " How to get rid of air down there."

Thankfully, you found an answer.

"Squatting down, especially while peeing, can help trapped air escape."

"This is great, but how the hell do you squat over a toilet without getting pee everywhere?" You mumble to yourself. You won't even deny it, your eyes dart over to the tub but you quickly dismiss that thought.

No way were you going to pop a squat and pee in your boyfriend's tub. You wouldn't hear the end of it.

You end up sitting backward on the toilet, your chest facing the lid as you do your best to squat.

Sure enough, you could feel the excess air release, echoing in the bathroom.

You finish up quickly, making sure to wipe and wash your hands before exiting the bathroom. As you walk out of the bathroom, you see Matt back in the room, sitting on his bed.

"Did you get that.... situated?" You roll your eyes and throw on your pajamas, laying back down on the bed. "You shut your damn mouth...And yes." He snickers softly and begins to situate himself between your legs, just as he always does.

The both of you sit in silence before he looks down at your clothed mound.

"So since you can speak, how do you fee-OW!" He winces as your hand comes down on the back of his head. He watches as you climb off the bed.

"Wait, where are you going?!"

"To Nick's room! At least he won't try to talk to my vagina as if it could talk back!"

He watches as you walk out the room, slamming the door in the process. He lays back down and chuckles to himself,

"I'm definitely changing her name in my phone to queef queen...maybe donald duck."

purrrrr im making this an awkward series! send in stuff that you would want to see!!!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[ellecdc]

Evan's little freak (affectionate)

prompt: There's something oddly comforting to me about how if I was freaking out about something and they were in their blitzed out state they'd help me calm down while sort of thinking I was a weird freak. - @moonstruckme

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who is having some sort of mental breakdown [1k words]

CW: reader is having a quasi-panic attack, rosekiller do their best to help but they truly Don't Get It™, they think she's weird but love her anyway

Evan found himself very much unprepared and ill equipped to handle this right now. 

You’d come flying into the flat in a tizzy rambling on and on about some great injustice or upheaval in your life at a million miles an hour without hardly even sparing him or Barty a glance. 

Granted, the second blunt may have been a little much, but he generally did not know how to handle big emotions. The horrified and uncomfortable expression that Barty was wearing told Evan that he, at least, felt the same. Neither boy grew up exactly encouraged to feel their feelings out loud; pushing down all upset didn’t exactly lend itself well to empathy and compassion.

He wondered if he was simply imagining the heavy smoke in the room or if you were just oblivious to it; either way, you were clearly not on the same level as the two boys.

He’d come to the conclusion about two and a half minutes into your tangent that no one was dead or dying, and when he deduced that those were the only scenarios worth this amount of anxiety, he more or less sort of tuned you out; only registering the panicky quality of your voice.

Barty had tried calling your name a few times which only seemed to spur you on and cause Barty to look over at him in a bemused sort of concern. “What the fuck? Are you seeing this?” Barty seemed to be asking. 

I am seeing this, what the fuck, indeed.

“Sugar,” Evan tried in his most authoritative tone, hoping to hell that his words didn’t sound as slow and languid as the felt on his tongue, “you need to settle down.”

That had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say if the way you turned your body towards him with wild eyes and nearly shaking hands meant anything. 

“I can’t!” You shrieked, causing Barty to actually wince at the pitch your voice took. 

“But…why not?” Barty asked cautiously, and you burst into tears.

“Fuck me.” Evan groaned under his breath as he stamped out the end of his blunt; he was clearly done for the day. “Alright, hold on. Let me get my shit together so I can talk some sense into you. Calm down.” 

“I can’t.” You keened, Evan tsked at you. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re wild today.” He commented as he flung open the windows. Barty was already in the kitchen grabbing bottles of water and some snacks; following proper sober up protocol. 

Evan took the time to actually move the ashtray to the opposite side of the room, hoping to have as clear a head as he possibly could to deal with his wound tight little minx. Ruining his high by being all adorable and weird.  You were lucky you were so cute. 

“Treasure, you need to go sit down.” Barty murmured then as you seemed to be frozen in some sort of panicky fright in the centre of the kitchen. “Or maybe light up for a minute…” He added sarcastically under his breath. Unfortunately for Evan, you heard him.

“I can’t do that, Barty! I get paranoid!”

“As opposed to whatever you are right now?” Barty asked incredulously then, and you let out a gut wrenching sob. 

“Okay! Okay, fuckin’ hell. Come here.” Evan called as he sat back down in his chair and beckoned you forward with one impatient hand. 

“This is too much, Sugar.” He chided as he pulled you down onto his lap. “You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“But-”

“Enough; your only job is to breathe right now, got it?” 

You sucked in a shuddering breath as you nodded; eyes squeezed shut, forcing a steady stream of tears down your cheeks. You looked pitiful. 

“He didn’t say to hold your breath.” Barty commented gently as he sat on an ottoman in front of Evan’s chair and tried to hand each of you a bottle of water - Evan took both. But the breath that escaped your lips was forceful and left you panting for more. “Oi! Not like that, hey. Deeper breaths, Tres.”

“Y/N. Relax, doll. Relax. You’re fine.” Evan chided; his hand resting on your lower back and his thumb drawing circles at the space between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your shirt gave way to skin.

The flat fell quiet save for the sound of your breathing - at first shuddering, then practised and intentional, and finally settling into a more natural cadence - as Evan drew lines up and down your back with one hand and drew circles with his thumb on your knee with the other, and Barty fiddled distractedly with your fingers. 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered eventually, and both Evan and Barty let out sighs of relief. 

“That was fucking wild, Treasure. Absolutely deranged.” Barty scolded playfully, pulling your fingers to his lips for a kiss.

“Scared the shit out of me, Sugar. I thought someone was dying.” 

“I didn’t mean to worry you…” you offered shyly, shoulders curling in on yourself as if you sort of wanted to disappear. Evan pulled you roughly into his chest and stamped a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m always worried about you, weird little freak.”

“I’m gonna need like, five more blunts after that. Do I have grey hairs? I feel like I have grey hair now. You’re ageing me, Treasure. You’re sending me to an early grave.” Though you clearly accepted Barty’s teasing for what it was when you returned his kiss fervently. 

“No more blunts.” Evan called as Barty moved to put on a record. “Next time she comes in like a bat out of hell, I would like to have our wits about us. Hm? Give us a fighting chance.” 

“So we’re rawdogging our way through life from now on? Alright, Ev; but if I start having meltdowns like our perfect little freak over there, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself!” 

“....Maybe one blunt a day?” Evan asked you when Barty disappeared around the corner; murmuring the question into the slightly damp hairs at your temple.

“Maybe so.” You agreed with a tired chuckle turned sigh. He couldn’t blame you; if he was tired after all of that, you must be exhausted.

[meliciousmel13]

➛ the mess is mine.

paring: Billie Eilish x Reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), fluff, aftercare, dirty names? (billie calls r whore, slut) strap-on sex (r receiving), eating out, fingering, kind of breeding kink, possessive billie

wc: 5,121

SYNOPSIS: billie wakes up at 7am for her photoshoot and you offer to go with her. you were waiting for her to finish and finally go home to cuddle. but.. was that someone flirting with you?

an: was this too much? sorryy

It was 7:31 a.m. Billie was late by a whole 30 minutes. Why? Because of you. She was supposed to be at a photoshoot by now, but every time she tried to sneak out of bed, you’d cling to her as your life depended on it.

Her first attempt to replace her body with a pillow had failed spectacularly. The moment the cool fabric touched your skin instead of her warmth, you whined and mumbled something incoherent about her staying. Each time she tried to move, you tightened your hold, murmuring, “Just five more minutes.”

It’s been 30. Billie was still here, half sitting up and half trapped beneath you, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the nightstand.

“Baby,” she sighed, rubbing slow circles on your back in a last-ditch effort to reason with you, “I really need to go.”

“Why?” you mumbled, your voice muffled against her neck.

“Because I’m late for my photo shoot, angel,” she explained, her voice soft as she kissed the side of your neck. Her hands slid under your pajama shirt, gently rubbing your hips in a way that was meant to coax, but it only made you cling tighter.

“Why are you always leaving me?” you asked, your tone carrying more hurt than you meant to let show. Your arms locked around her like a lifeline, your cheek pressed against the comforting rhythm of her heartbeat.

She froze for a moment, guilt flickering across her face before she softened. “I’m not leaving you, sweetheart,” she murmured, running her fingers through your hair. “I’m just working.”

“You’re always working,” you replied, your voice laced with sleepy frustration.

She groaned, and couldn’t talk back because you were annoyingly right. Unfortunately, she was always working. Sometimes she stays late in your home studio. Sometimes have to remind her it’s 3 am and she needs to go to bed. You have to remind her to sleep. which made sense because she had a horrible sleep schedule.

“I know,” she admitted, pressing another kiss to your temple. “But I’ve got a two-day break after today. I promise I’m all yours.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep as you tilted your head to look at her.

“Yeah,” she said, turning onto her back and pulling you with her so you were sprawled across her chest. “Just let me get through today, and I’m yours, baby. Completely.”

Her hands slid to your thighs, holding them gently as she gave you a pleading look. “Please?”

You sat up slightly, perched on her lap as you eyed her skeptically. “Only if I can come with you.”

Billie blinked, caught off guard. “Sure?” she said, her voice cautious but amused.

You nodded, shifting to straddle her properly, your hands resting on her chest. “I’m serious.”

Her hands slid up your thighs, slightly gripping your upper thighs. Tilting her head, and smirking, almost like she knew what she was doing to you “You sure, baby? It’s going to be boring for you.”

“Maybe not if you keep talking like that,” you mumbled, mimicking her head tilt. She laughed, the sound warm and low, gently nudging you off her. “Alright, alright. But now we really need to go.”

She stretched, her arms reaching above her head as she let out a groan. Then she swung her legs over the side of the bed and hurried to pull on socks, nearly tripping in her rush.

You watched her with half-lidded eyes, still sprawled on the bed. She was barely awake, fumbling with her shirt and brushing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to look presentable. “You know,” you said, your voice teasing, “you’re just going to take that off when you get there.”

She paused to give you a playful glare. “And you’re not helping.”

“I’m keeping you warm,” you retorted, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

“You’re keeping me late,” she corrected, tossing a hoodie over her head before grabbing her phone.

Finally, Billie turned to you, her expression softening as she took in your sleepy pout. “Come on,” she coaxed, holding out a hand. “You said you wanted to come with me, remember?”

Grumbling, you crawled out of the warm cocoon of blankets and took her hand. Billie pulled you to your feet, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist to steady you as you swayed slightly.

“See? Now we’re both late,” she teased, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before tugging you toward the door.

“Whatever,” you replied, leaning into her side as she guided you out of the room.

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting on the edge of a plush couch in the corner of the photo studio, the quiet hum of activity around you. Billie had been whisked away the moment you two walked in, the staff bustling to get everything ready. The sound of camera shutters clicking, mixed with the low murmur of voices, created a backdrop of controlled chaos.

You couldn’t take your eyes off her from across the room. She moved so naturally, so confidently, like she belonged right there in the spotlight. Every pose felt effortless like she wasn’t even trying—just being. The stylist fussed over her outfit again, straightening seams and adjusting details, but Billie barely seemed to notice, too busy flashing the camera that playful, crooked smirk that somehow felt like it was meant just for you.

“She’s stunning,” someone from the crew muttered from nearby, and you couldn’t help but smile, proud to know her so intimately.

Even though she was surrounded by people, Billie’s eyes kept flickering over to you, catching your gaze and holding it for just a moment before she went back to her pose. Each time, there was a hint of a smile, as if reassuring you that despite the work, you were still on her mind.

As the photographer called for a break, Billie wandered over to you, her steps light but purposeful. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before sitting beside you, her body close to yours.

“How’s my angel doing?” she asked, her voice playful, but with an undercurrent of affection that made you melt.

You shrugged, grinning. “I’m surviving. It’s kind of boring without you though.”

She laughed softly, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m almost done, promise. Then it’s just you and me. No more work today.”

You leaned into her, pressing your cheek to her shoulder as you relaxed into the moment, letting the busyness of the shoot fade into the background. Billie’s hand found yours, her thumb gently stroking your skin, grounding you in the peace of this quiet space despite the chaos of the studio.

“Thanks for sticking with me,” she murmured softly, her lips brushing the top of your head. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied with a smile.

Billie was barely out of the room when the guy approached, the sound of his shoes tapping on the floor as he made his way over to you. He flashed you a charming grin that made your skin crawl, leaning in way too close.

“Hey,” he said, his tone too smooth for comfort. “You’re looking a little lonely over here. Why don’t you come hang out with me instead of waiting around?”

You shifted uncomfortably, pulling away from him a little, but he didn’t take the hint. His eyes skimmed over you, lingering in all the wrong places. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you look all… out of it. I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

Before you could even respond, a cold, sharp voice sliced through the air, making the guy freeze mid-sentence.

“Get away from her. Now.”

Billie’s voice was so cold and hard it could’ve cut glass. She stormed toward you, her jaw clenched and her eyes practically burning holes through the guy. Without a moment’s hesitation, she stepped between you, her presence so commanding that the guy instinctively took a step back.

“Billie, come on, I’m just—” The guy started to laugh, clearly not understanding the shift in the air.

Billie’s eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a cruel smile that was anything but friendly. “I said back off,” she snapped, her voice low and full of venom. “You don’t talk to her. You don’t look at her. You don’t even breathe in her direction. Got it?”

The guy hesitated, clearly trying to size up the situation, but he wasn’t fast enough. Billie took a step forward, towering over him, her body language radiating pure menace. “She’s mine. You think you can just come up and flirt with what’s mine, huh? No. Not happening.”

He started to laugh again, trying to brush it off, but Billie didn’t care. “What’s so funny, huh?” she hissed, stepping even closer. “You think this is some joke? You think she’s some kind of toy for you to play with?”

The guy opened his mouth to say something, but Billie didn’t let him get a word out. “Shut up,” she spat, the words cutting him off like a whip. “She doesn’t want you. She’s not interested. I don’t want you near her. Do you understand?”

The guy looked taken aback, the smug expression slipping from his face as he realized Billie wasn’t backing down. He stepped back, trying to regain his composure, but Billie wasn’t finished.

She leaned in closer, her voice dangerously quiet now, but the fury in it was unmistakable. “Right?” Billie said, her eyes flashing darkly. “The mess is mine. All of her—every inch—is mine. And you’ll stay the hell away from her. Understood?”

The guy looked at Billie, his face turning a little pale as he mumbled something, his bravado completely deflated. He took one last glance at you before backing off without another word, clearly realizing he’d just made a very big mistake.

Billie stood there, watching him retreat with a satisfied, icy glare, her chest heaving slightly from the intensity of her anger. When she was sure he was gone, she turned to you, her expression softening just enough to show a hint of concern, but the possessive dominance never left her eyes.

“You okay?” she asked, her tone no longer sharp, but still filled with an unrelenting sense of control.

You nodded, not trusting your voice as you watched her, completely captivated by how fiercely she protected you.

“Good,” she murmured, her hand sliding around your waist as she pulled you into her side, her grip tight, almost like she was afraid someone else might try to get too close. “No one messes with what’s mine. Not while I’m around.”

You couldn’t help but shiver at the possessiveness in her voice, feeling a warmth spread through you as you leaned into her, your eyes meeting hers.

Billie pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual. “You belong to me, sweetheart. Remember that.”

Her words were like a brand on your soul, leaving no room for doubt. You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you whispered, “I remember, Billie. I remember.”

The car ride back home was suffocating in its silence, thick with tension. Billie’s eyes flicked to you every few moments, the corner of her lips curling into a slight, unreadable smile. You could feel the weight of her gaze on you, every passing second drawing you deeper into the pull of her presence.

As soon as the car stopped, Billie was out, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t wait for you, didn’t bother checking if you were right behind her—she knew you were.

The second you closed the car door, she was on you, her hands pulling you toward the front door of the house, fingers digging into your wrist. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Billie’s mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. Her hands pulled at your clothes roughly, almost like she couldn’t stand to have even a second where you weren’t completely hers.

She backed you up against the nearest wall, her lips tracing along your jaw with sharp, possessive kisses. “Bet you like this, huh?” Billie murmured, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm and heavy. “Bet you like when I make you mine, when I remind you who you belong to.” Her voice was low, gritty with lust, and there was no mistaking the authority in it. Every word felt like a brand, a reminder that you were hers.

You gasped, your body responding to her instantly, heat pooling in your stomach. You tried to push her off, just a little, needing a second to breathe, but she wasn’t having it. “No, no, no. You don’t get to push me away.” Her fingers tightened in your hair, forcing your head back to give her more access to your neck.

“You don’t get to stop me, baby. Not when I’m finally gonna remind you just how much you belong to me.” Her teeth scraped against your skin, sharp and possessive, making you shudder under her touch.

You let out a soft moan, the ache inside you becoming unbearable. “Fuck, you’re such a slut,” Billie growled, her hand sliding down your body roughly, squeezing your waist, her thumb brushing dangerously close to the waistband of your pants. “A slut for me, huh?” She smirked, her eyes dark with the kind of intensity that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe without her permission.

You shuddered, but there was no denying it—the heat that rushed through you at the sound of her words. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “Yours.” She froze, her eyes darkening even further as she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, mocking kiss.

“Say it again, baby,” she commanded, her voice dripping with possessive need. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“m’ yours,” you breathed, your chest tightening with both the weight of her words and your own growing desire. Billie’s smirk deepened, satisfied with your response, but she wasn’t done with you yet.

Her hand slid down between your legs, her fingers pressing against the outline of your pants, brushing lightly against your core. “You really think you can walk around looking this fucking cute without me wanting to fuck you stupid?” Billie growled, her other hand sliding up her hoodie, her fingers pinching at your nipples in a way that made you gasp.

“You’re nothing but a little slut for me, and I’m gonna fuck you like one.” Her words hit you like a physical blow, and your whole body flushed with the weight of her command. You could feel yourself tightening under her touch, desperate for her, for her possession, for the way she made you feel like nothing outside of her mattered.

Billie stepped back, just for a moment, her eyes scanning you with dark amusement. “You’ve been teasing me all day, and now, you’re gonna pay for it,” she whispered, her voice low and dangerous. “Come here.” She grabbed your wrist again, pulling you toward the living room, her movements sharp and quick. You couldn’t stop yourself, not when she had you so worked up, so under her thumb.

When she threw you down on the couch, her gaze didn’t soften—it only grew darker. She stood over you for a moment, surveying you like a predator, her hands resting on her hips as she smirked down at you. “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.” Before you could say anything, she was on you again, this time less gentle, her hands finding the waistband of your pants with expert speed, yanking them down roughly, exposing your skin and pretty pink underwear to her hungry gaze.

She didn’t ask for permission, and didn’t need to. Billie’s hands roamed over your body, her grip firm and possessive, and she took a deep breath as if inhaling the very essence of you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect for me,” she muttered, her lips finding your neck once more. Her teeth sank into your skin, marking you, claiming you. “No one else gets to touch you. No one but me, you understand?” You nodded, your breath quickening as her words sank in deeper, the way she was touching you making everything else fade away.

All that mattered now was Billie. Her touch, the way she made you feel like you were hers, and hers alone. “Good,” she whispered against your skin, her hands roaming even more boldly, pushing her hoodie past your chest and making it pool around your collarbones.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” she bit her lip, pinching and rolling your nipple with her thumb and index finger, “hm? You know how fucking pretty and cute you are don’t you? That’s why you were teasin’ me. You fuckin’ know.” she breathed out, leaning down and taking your nipple to her mouth, she looked up with lazy eyes, her pink tongue swirling and sucking your nipple.

“Bill— billie,” you whimper holding the back of her head and softly gripping her hair. Your back arching to press your breast further into her eager mouth.

“Yeah? Can’t even handle something so simple, fuck,” she sighed, looking down and seeing the large, obvious wet spot in your underwear. “Got so wet and I didn’t even do anything yet.” She smiled, rubbing softly with her thumb and pushing the damp fabric to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to her hungry eyes.

“Look at you, all ready for me,” Billie purred, her fingers teasing along your slit. “So eager, so desperate to be touched.”

She pushed a finger inside you, curling it just so, and you cried out, your hips bucking against her hand. “That’s it, baby. Give me those sweet sounds. Let me hear how much you want it.”

Billie added another finger, pumping them in and out, her thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Fuck, you’re tight. I can’t wait to feel this cunt squeezing my dick.”

She picked up the pace, her fingers driving into you harder, faster, the wet squelch of your arousal filling the room. “You like that, hm baby? Like feeling me inside you, stretching you open?”

You could only moan in response, your body tensing as the pressure built inside you. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the brink, Billie withdrew her fingers, leaving you empty and aching.

“Not yet,” she tutted, a wicked grin on her face. “I’m not done playing with you. Need to hear you beg for it first.”

She dipped her head down, her tongue swiping over your clit, and you nearly screamed at the sudden sensation. “Please,” you gasped, fisting your hands in her hair. “Please, Billie, I need…”

“Need what?” she asked, her breath hot against your sensitive flesh. “Tell me what you need, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

Billie’s fingers teased along your slit once more, barely dipping inside, just enough to drive you wild with need. “Tell me what you need,” she demanded, her voice low and commanding. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you,” you whimpered, arching your back, trying to press yourself further into her touch. “I need your fingers, your tongue, anything. Please, Billie, m’ so close.”

She chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “So desperate. So needy for my touch.” Her fingers circled your clit, firm and relentless, pushing you closer to the edge. “Beg for it, baby. Beg for my fingers in your tight little cunt.”

“Please,” you moaned, your hips bucking against her hand. “Please, Billie, I need your fingers inside me. I need you to make me come. Please, please—I’ll do anything.”

“That’s more like it,” she purred, sliding two fingers back inside you, pumping them in and out at a maddeningly slow pace. “Such a good little slut, begging so prettily for me.”

She curled her fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision go white, and you cried out, your walls clenching around her digits. “Fuck, Billie! M’ gonna cum— can’t—”

She didn’t stop, her fingers driving into you harder, faster, the wet squelch of your arousal filling the room. “Come for me,” she commanded, her thumb pressing down on your clit. “Come on my fingers like the desperate little whore you are.”

And you did, your body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of pleasure radiating through your core. You clenched around her fingers, your juices coating her hand as she worked you through it, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed, her fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your climax. “Milk my fingers. Show me how much you needed that.”

You could only moan in response, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm. Billie’s fingers continued their relentless pace, drawing out your pleasure until you thought you couldn’t take anymore.

Finally, she withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her mouth and licking them clean. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good when you come,” she purred, her eyes dark with lust. “I could eat this pretty cunt all day.”

She moved down your body, settling between your legs, and you whimpered at the feeling of her hot breath on your sensitive flesh. “One more,” she promised, her tongue darting out to lap at your clit. “wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

She set to work, her mouth and fingers alternating between teasing and pleasuring, pushing you towards another climax. Your hands fisted in the sheets, your body arching off the bed as she drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Billie, please,” you begged, your voice hoarse from crying out her name. “I need to come. Please— make me come.”

She hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. “Come for me, baby. Let go. I’ve got you.”

And with a final flick of her tongue, you did, your back bowing off the bed as the second orgasm ripped through you. Billie moaned, lapping up your release, prolonging your pleasure until you collapsed back onto the mattress, spent and sated.

She crawled up your body, pressing soft kisses along your neck and jaw. “Such a good girl,” she praised, her fingers carding through your hair. “so proud of you angel.”

You could only nod, too exhausted to form any coherent words. Billie chuckled, pressing one last kiss to your lips before climbing off the couch.

Billie smirked as she climbed off the couch, her fingers still glistening with your juices. “Wait here,” she mumbled.

She sauntered out of the living room, leaving you panting and aching for more. Your mind raced with possibilities of what she might return with - toys, restraints, who knows what else.

Minutes later, Billie reappeared, a mischievous glint in her eye. In her hand, she held a large, strap-on.

“On your hands and knees,” she commanded, her voice low and authoritative.

You scrambled to obey, assuming the position on the couch. Your heart raced with anticipation as you felt Billie’s presence behind you.

“Such a good little whore,” she purred, running the strap-on teasingly along your slit. “So eager to be filled, aren’t you?”

You whimpered and pushed back against the toy, desperate to feel it inside you. Billie chuckled darkly.

“Patience, I’m going to fuck this tight pussy so hard you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

With that promise, she pressed forward, and positioned herself at your entrance, the thick head of the strap-on nudging insistently against your sensitive folds. With a single, powerful thrust, she sheathed herself fully inside you, your slick walls parting to accommodate her girth.

“Fuck yes,” Billie groaned, her hips grinding against yours as she hilted deep. “Love feeling this tight cunt swallowing my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

She set a punishing pace, her thrusts hard and deep, hitting that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and Billie’s grunts of exertion.

“Take it,” she commanded, her fingers digging into the meat of your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Take my fucking cock like the desperate whore you are. Milk it with this greedy little cunt.”

Your body was a livewire of sensation, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of ecstasy poised to crash over you at any moment.

“Billie,” you keened, your hands scrabbling at her sweat-slicked back. “Please, I’m so close. Make me come on your cock. Fill me up, please!”

“That’s it, baby,” she growled, her hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. “Come for me. Come all over my fucking dick.”

And with a few more well-angled thrusts, you did, your cunt clamping down on the strap as wave after wave of pleasure radiated through your core.

Billie carefully pulls out, her movements slow and gentle as she helps you settle back, her hands soothingly stroking your body. She leans down, her breath soft against your skin, whispering, “You did so good for me, baby.”

You’re still a little dazed, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at her, feeling the warmth of her touch and the aftershocks of everything slowly settling in your chest. Billie’s gaze softens as she notices the way you’re still processing, her hand resting lightly on your hip, a grounding presence.

“Just breathe, okay?” she murmurs, her voice low and comforting. Her fingers trace the curve of your jaw, pushing the strands of hair from your face, and she smiles softly as she sees how you melt into her touch.

She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment. “I’ve got you, always. You’re safe with me.”

You nod, finally feeling the tension in your body ease as she holds you, her warmth enveloping you. Billie’s body is close, and she doesn’t let go of you, making sure you feel cared for and cherished. You rest your head against her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat, and feel the weight of her embrace ground you as the world slowly comes back into focus.

Billie smiles softly, her fingers gently brushing over your skin, lingering on the back of your neck. She takes a moment to study you, her eyes filled with affection as she notices the exhaustion settling in your features.

“How about a bath?” she asks, her voice tender like she’s offering you a moment of calm after everything. “I can run one for you, make sure you’re all clean and relaxed.”

You hum softly, the idea of sinking into warm water feels like the perfect way to unwind. Her hand moves to your waist, guiding you gently to sit up, and she stands beside you, already reaching for the blankets to pull them back.

“I’ll take care of you,” Billie promises, her gaze never leaving yours. She leans in and presses another kiss to your forehead, a reassurance of her care. “You deserve to feel good, baby.”

She helps you to your feet, her touch light yet steady, making sure you don’t feel rushed as she leads you toward the bathroom. The soft glow of the dim lights in the room and the sound of water running sets the mood—peaceful, quiet.

You sink deeper into the warmth of the bath, your body still humming from everything that just happened. You take a deep breath, your eyes closing for a moment as you let the heat wash over you.

“That was a lot,” you admit, your voice soft, still coming down from the intensity.

Billie, standing beside the tub, looks down at you with a small smile, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. She crouches down, brushing her hand over your hair, fingers tangling through the wet strands. “I know, baby,” she says, her voice tender, as if she understands exactly what you mean. “But you did so good.”

Without saying much more, Billie undresses quickly, and before you can blink, she’s stepping into the tub behind you. The water splashes around her as she settles in, almost instantly pulling you into her arms. Her presence is solid, grounding you in a calm way after everything.

She guides you to lean back against her chest, your head resting against her shoulder as she envelops you in her warmth. Her hands start running through your hair again, gentle and soothing. “I’ve got you,” she murmurs, her voice soft and calming. “We can just relax here for a while, okay? No rush.”

You let out a breath, the weight of everything finally beginning to melt away. Billie’s arms are around you, keeping you close, and her touch is reassuring and soft. She kisses the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment before she whispers, “Let go, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Billie’s hands slide down your arms, her touch still gentle as she pulls you closer, her body pressed firmly against yours in the warm water. She stays silent for a moment, her breath steady, as if thinking over everything that happened.

After a beat, her voice breaks the quiet, soft but tinged with concern. “Was I too rough with you?” she asks, her tone unexpectedly vulnerable. “Too mean?”

You look up at her, meeting her eyes as she watches you carefully, her fingers now tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Her usual confidence is there, but there’s an underlying softness, a need for reassurance that surprises you.

“I just want to make sure I didn’t push you too far,” she adds, her voice almost hesitant, as if she’s testing the waters for your response.

You let out a small sigh, the warmth of the bath soothing you further, and shake your head. “No… it wasn’t like that,” you whisper, reaching up to touch her face, your fingertips grazing her cheek. “You were just… exactly what I needed.”

Billie’s eyes soften, the tension in her shoulders easing as she absorbs your words. She pulls you closer once more, her embrace wrapping around you like a cocoon, protective and caring.

“I just want to take care of you,” she murmurs, her voice low and sincere. “I’m here, always.”

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