#i feel like its a hard bite though - like chocolate or something

[helpmyinterestsareverywhere]

Everytime I see Sora's hair I just want to eat it (affectionate <3) - it just looks so edible to me idk

[mariasont]

i have a fic request what about like bimbo assistant reader x hotch and they go for like a team night out or something and ofc reader wears something cute and probably a tad bit too short and maybe she sees one of her friends or just dances with one of the bau girls and hotch just watches from the booth and his jaw is literally on the floor and the guys are trying to have a conversation with him and he’s just completely unaware of what’s happening around him

Red Flags & Pink-Colored Glasses - A.H

summary: hotch shouldn't be at this bar, shouldn't be watching you while you dance in that too-short dress and he definitely shouldn't be the one trying to teach you a lesson about bad men, not when he's fighting every instinct to be one. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warning tags: alcohol consumption (reader is tipsy, hotch is suffering), pre-relationship pining, mentions of past toxic relationships, protective!hotch, jealously/protectiveness, accidental touching, repressed feelings, hotch contemplating murder wc: 2.2k

Hotch could lie to himself and pretend he had no idea how he ended up here, but that would be exactly that, a lie.

He knew.

It was because you had asked him, bright-eyed, voice melting like white chocolate on his tongue, and something long disciplined into obedience had caved. At some point along the path of your employment, he had come to realize he had developed this inexplicable inability to deny you.

He had agreed to one drink. Technically, he was keeping his word. Said first drink was sitting half-full on the table, a thin line of amber liquid sloshing against the sides every time he gripped it too hard. Two hours had passed and he was still here, still planted in this booth, still convincing himself he wasn't waiting for something he shouldn't want.

He knew he should leave. He could leave. He had every capability. His legs worked just fine and his willpower had seen him through worse (I mean, for gods sake, he worked with you everyday). But he also knew there wasn't a chance in hell he was walking out that door when you were still on that dance floor.

Not because he didn't trust you. Of course, he trusted you. He trusted JJ and Emily and Garcia, too, though that didn’t stop his jaw from locking up every time one of them spun you, making your dress rise higher on your thighs. And being a profiler came with its downfalls, one of them the acute, inescapable awareness of how every single man in this bar had their eyes on you.

On your legs. Your thighs. Your hips. Your breasts. Your ass.

He knew how they thought and how they operated and worse than that, he knew he was acting no different. Because his own gaze had been glued to you all night.

And he hated that. Hated that his pulse kicked up whenever you laughed, that his fingers itched to tug that dress a little lower, that he had half a mind to send every single one of those men home in body bags.

Hotch exhaled before tipping his glass against his lips, the drink was barely cold anymore, the bite of alcohol dulled from where the ice had long since melted, not that it mattered, not that he noticed.

You were swaying your hips now, and he shouldn't be watching you, especially not like this. Not with this lump that was screwing up tightly in his throat, with some part of him wanting to abandon reason entirely and just pull you back down into the booth beside him where he could keep you sedentary.

Physics had a rule for this, right? An object in motion stays in motion. Sounds about right.

It took him a second to process a voice piercing through his thoughts. Morgan. Talking. Right. He should probably be listening.

He blinked, refocusing. He could see Morgan’s mouth moving. Could hear the general cadence of a conversation happening, but not a single word was registering.

And then Morgan laughed. "Man, you're not even pretending to listen."

Hotch blinked, forcing himself to look away from you long enough to level them with a stare. "What?"

Rossi gave him a look before leaning back, like he wasn't going to push the subject. "I still don't know how we managed to get you out tonight."

Mogan nodded. "Yeah, I was expecting the usual, grumbling about paperwork, maybe a half-hearted have fun before you disappeared like a ghost."

"I don't disappear," Hotch said flatly.

Rossi scoffed. "You do if we turn out heads for five seconds."

"Batman-style," Morgan agreed, grinning. "One minute you're there, and the next, gone. Poof."

"That's an exaggeration," Reid cut in. "Batman's disappearances rely on strategic misdirection, which, while impressive, aren't—"

"Not the point, kid."

Morgan turned back to Hotch, still grinning. "Point is, you're still here, and that's weird."

Rossi nodded, swirling his drink. "So what's the angle? Trying to prove us wrong? Or just waiting for us to stop paying attention so you can slip out the back?"

"That does seem like the more likely scenario," Reid mused.

Hotch signed, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "Do you all spend this much time keeping tabs on each other's whereabouts, or am I just the lucky one tonight?"

"Oh, this is just for you, old man."

The conversation dissolved into static the second he caught the faintest whiff of your perfume. Some part of him recognized it immediately, sugar and flowers, something that had clung to his suit in phantom traces after too many hours spent near you. His pulse stalled. A fraction of a second where his body froze like it had learned, through painful repetition, to prepare for the inevitable distraction.

And then he saw you. All smiles, all tipsy giggles, flushed and glowing skin moving toward the table like some ridiculous vision, wrapped in pink and glitter with the careless beauty of someone who had never one second-guessed how easily they could command attention.

Hotch swore the rest of the room dimmed, reduced to shadows in his periphery and he had to forcibly remind himself to breathe because Christ, that dress was really that short, wasn't it?

You had a drink in your hand. And you looked happy. And warm. And a little unsteady on your heels.

The second your eyes found him, your whole face transformed, lit up like fireworks. Never mind that he had been here all night. Never mind that you had already waved at him enough times to make it clear you knew he existed. This time, apparently, counted more than the rest.

You waved. The motion sent your drink lurching dangerously in your hand, the liquid kissing the rim in protest, and before you could overcorrect, your heel tipped just enough that you stumbled, swaying too far to the right.

It wasn't much, just a little misstep, but it was enough to make Hotch move on instinct, his hand closing around your elbow guiding you into the booth beside him before either of you could think twice.

And then, because his life could never be easy, your dress slid up.

Just an inch, maybe two, of more thigh than should be visible. Nothing scandalous, just the kind of softness that could undo a man if he let it.

Hotch noticed. But then, so did someone else.

Some nameless stranger's eyes dragged, slow, audacious, a miscalculation he wouldn't be making again because Hotch's stare landed like a blade against his throat. Sharp and completely final. It was immediate that the same man was now finding the ceiling, the wall, the floor, anywhere but you, exceedingly fascinating.

Smart.

The second you're fully seated in the booth, you tip into him, like a magnet pulled to its inevitable counterpart. Your arm burns against his, the warmth of your skin creeping through fabric like a slow, smoldering fuse. He shouldn't let you, but he doesn't move, doesn't stop it, doesn't do anything but let it happen. 

Then as if you had any right to be this careless with him, you smile.

"Hi."

He should say something, should probably acknowledge the absurdity of how close you are, the way your perfume is now thick in his lungs, the way every fleck of light caught on your lashes, the shimmer scattered across your cheekbones like you'd been dipped in gold. He should ask why you wear it, how you do it, this thing where you make the prettiest parts of yourself even prettier.

He wants to do all these things but instead, because he's a coward, he just watches you. And when he finally forces a response, it comes out quieter than he intends.

"...Hi."

You hold your drink up between you. "You should try this. It's so good."

Hotch glanced down at it. It's the kind of drink that shouldn't exist outside of a beach vacation. Something red or pink or maybe orange, hard to tell under the low lights, undeniably fruity, he was sure. The kind that would probably leave him regretting his choices within minutes.

"No, thanks."

"Your loss," you mumble, as if you genuinely feel bad for him, then take a long sip, eyes fluttering shut like you're savoring the best thing you've ever tasted. "S'okay, more for me."

You glance at him, eyes still sparkling from whatever's buzzing in your bloodstream. "Are you having fun? 'Cause I'm having fun."

"I can tell."

You barely noticed how your drink wobbled under the careless placement of your elbow, or how your blinks stretched just a fraction too long, like your thoughts were floating somewhere just beyond your reach.

Hotch, however, did. "Do you want some water?"

Your pout deepened, your voice dipping into something vaguely petulant. "No, Hotch. I don't want water. Why would I want water?"

Before he could counter you, you moved, too loose-limbed, too uncoordinated, and suddenly your hand was on his thigh, gripping just a little too fight, fingers digging in for balance.

Hotch hissed under his breath, hands snapping to your waist before you could push this any further, intentionally or not.

"Okay, honey," he muttered, vocal chords strained. "C'mon."

Hotch kept you steady as he led you to the bar, your weight pressing into his side like you'd entirely abandoned the idea of walking on your own. By the time he handed you a water from the bartender, you squinted at it like it required advanced problem-solving.

"You're too nice to me."

Hotch sighed, rubbing a slow hand down his face. "If this is your definition of too nice, you've been dealing with the wrong men."

"Well, yeah." You took a sip of water then grinned like he had said something funny. "But I thought we'd already covered that."

Hotch's jaw locked. His grip on the bar tightened. Had he blacked out? Had there been a conversation where you casually admitted to dating the worst men alive?

"No." His eye twitched. "We didn't."

You pursed your lips, thinking. "Huh. Maybe I just thought you knew."

"That’s not really something I should just… know."

"I mean, I don't think it's that surprising."

"Why," he asked, each syllable carefully controlled, "would that not be surprising?"

"I don't know, Hotch. I mean, look at me."

He was. That was the problem.

"I'm not, like... super great at spotting red flags. I mostly think oh he's kinda mean but maybe he just had a bad day," you admitted, swirling your water with a little too much focus."You know, things like that."

Hotch inhaled sharply. Things like that. The thought of you sitting across from some guy, smiling, excusing his bullshit, convincing yourself he didn't mean to be cruel, made his stomach churn.

He wanted names. He wanted to know if any man had ever made you feel less than the goddamn sun, and if so, he wanted to make sure they never breathed the same air as you again. He wanted to show you. Show you how a man should look at you, should treat you.

But he wasn't that man.

Instead, he forced out an even voice. "You know that excusing bad behavior only teaches someone they can keep doing it right?" You titled your head, smiling up at him. "Mmm, yeah, that makes sense."

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Noted."

You blinked up at him. "Noted?"

"Yes. As in, we're going to talk about this again when you're sober enough to realize why what you just said was deeply concerning."

"But that doesn't sound fun."

Hotch's lips pressed into a straight line. "Neither does finding out you ignored a red flag because you liked a guy's smile."

Without warning, you reached up and placed a hand on his face, your fingertips pressing against his jaw as you studied him, way too close.

Hotch went completely still. "What are you—,"

"But you have a really great smile," you mumbled, squinting at him like this was some shocking new discovery, despite the fact, that he hadn't done anything remotely resembling a smile in the last ten minutes.

His jaw tensed beneath your touch, but he didn't pull away. His voice sounded different when he finally muttered your name.

You huffed, dragging your fingers down his cheek like he was some sort of sculpture you were admiring.

"You'd be worth it," you sighed dreamily. "I’d ignore so many red flags for you. So many."

Hotch felt like a man standing on a ledge, heart in his throat, knowing the drop was inevitable.

Your fingers were soft against his skin, moving far too slow, too easy, like you knew you could get away with it. All he wanted was to catch your wrist, drag you in, kiss you until you couldn't say things like that anymore. Until you have something real to ignore.

But that would be a mistake. A selfish, unforgivable mistake.

You needed to learn that some men didn't deserve saving, weren't worth the risk. That just because someone looked at you the way he did, ached for you the way he did, didn't mean they were good for you.

His voice came low and rough. "That's not the conclusion you should be coming to."

You pouted up at him, then practically threw yourself against him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. "Hotch, I was joking."

His entire body locked up, his hands hovering, unsurely. "You shouldn't joke about things like that."

You hummed, completely unconcerned, pressing your cheek to his chest. "Mmm, but you know, you don't have any of those."

"Those?"

You sighed and your breath was warm against his shirt.

"Those... bad things I always miss in people." Before he could correct you, you sighed again, breath warm against his shirt, voice nothing but soft, drunken honesty. "You're the best man I've ever known."

Hotch's hands betrayed him, settling against your back, pulling you in, holding you like he had a right to. Like he could protect you from the exact kind of man he was trying to tell you to avoid.

It was a lie. A beautiful, easy one, but a lie nonetheless. And it was dangerous, how easily you fit against him, how naturally your body responded to being his for just a second.

And most of all, it was cruel, how much he wanted to believe you.

His fingers curled against the small of your back before he forced himself to let go.

"Alright," he murmured. "Let's get you home."

Hotch had barely taken two steps past the table when Morgan let out a slow whistle, shaking his head like he’d seen something interesting.

"Man," he drawled, "and here I assumed you were just deep in thought earlier."

Hotch exhaled through his nose. "Goodnight, Morgan."

Morgan grinned, lifting his drink. "Oh, it already is."

💌 masterlist

taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[mintyys-blog]

Hello! Hope you are having a good day/night!

This is my first time requesting, and gosh this is both exciting and stressfull :,]

So, the request is: can you write a reader who is stress-baking (could be school stress, work stress or worrying about mark when he goes on a mission etc.). And, like, Mark comes home and there's a lot, A LOT of cookies, cakes, cupcakes; on kitchen counters, on tables, some still baking in the oven, and the kitchen is all messy. Then he comforts them of their stress, worries and just, overall cute and fluffy. (Main mark and they are dating)

If you dont feel like writing, its totally fine too!

Love your writings, thank you for sharing them with us ♡

( Take care, and dont forget to drink water! :> )

THE SWEETEST | main mark x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST 2 | WARNINGS: stress, mention of fighting.

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work (AI generated or otherwise) without my permission. @mintyys-blog

You’ve been baking for hours.

The kitchen is a disaster, a testament to your restless mind. There are trays of cookies cooling on the counter, some of them slightly burnt from being forgotten in the oven. Brownies are stacked precariously in the corner, the scent of chocolate heavy in the air. Cupcakes are stuffed into every available space, and yet, somehow, the oven is still on, a fresh batch of something new quietly baking away.

It doesn’t make sense. The oven’s heat is supposed to be oppressive, but you’re not feeling it—not even the smallest bead of sweat on your forehead. Instead, you feel cold. Numb. Like there’s something lodged in your chest that won’t go away, no matter how much sugar you bake into these desserts.

The fight with your mother had been stupid. Trivial. She said you weren’t trying hard enough to fix your career, that you should do more with your life, get a real job instead of this part-time freelance nonsense. And you snapped, yelled at her like you always did, and now she’s furious, calling you selfish and immature.

It was the same argument. Over and over. And no matter how many cookies you make, no matter how many times you shove that batter into the oven and mix the frosting just right, it doesn’t feel like enough.

The sound of the door opening makes you freeze. The familiar voice, Mark’s, carries through the hallway.

“Babe? It smells amazing in here.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you focus on the batter in front of you, scraping the bowl like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Mark steps into the kitchen, breathing in deeply, a small smile on his face at the sight of your chaos.

“Smells like a bakery exploded,” he says, looking at all the trays, the cookies, the frosting smeared across the counters. He takes another deep breath, but when he sees you—really sees you—his smile falters.

You’re standing there in a messy apron, hair frazzled, eyes a little red, though you try to hide it behind the layers of frosting you’re still trying to work on. The kitchen looks like a tornado hit, but it’s not the mess that makes his stomach twist—it’s you.

The way your shoulders are hunched. The way you don’t look at him. The way the air around you feels heavy, almost as if you’re afraid to breathe.

Mark sets his bags down with a soft thud. “Hey,” he calls, stepping closer to you. “What’s going on?”

You shrug, finally lifting your eyes to meet his, but there’s a distant look in them. “Nothing. Just… baking.”

He knows better. Mark reaches out, gently pulling you away from the counter. “This,” he says softly, gesturing to the mountain of treats you’ve made, “this isn’t nothing.”

You bite your lip, a faint tremor in your voice. “I just… I’m fine. Really. I had a fight with my mom again. It’s nothing new. It’s not like I can fix it, Mark.”

His heart sinks. He knows you and your mother’s relationship has been strained for years, but hearing you say it like that—it stings. He steps closer, his hands coming to rest gently on your shoulders. “It’s not nothing. And you can fix it—if that’s what you want. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

You let out a small, shaky breath. “I don’t know how to fix it. She doesn’t understand… and it’s like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Mark’s hands slide to your arms, pulling you into his chest. You resist for a moment, but when he holds you tight, you finally give in, letting him wrap you in his warmth. He rests his chin on top of your head, breathing you in, taking a long, deep breath as if trying to anchor himself to you.

“I don’t have all the answers,” he murmurs, “but I know you’re enough. For me. For anyone who truly matters. You’re not broken, babe. You’re… perfect, even when you’re baking like a madwoman.”

You let out a soft, laugh-sniffle, leaning into him even more. “I don’t even know why I do this. I just… can’t stop. I thought it would help.”

“It helps you, even if you don’t see it,” Mark says, rubbing your back soothingly. “But it’s okay if it’s not enough. You don’t always have to carry everything alone. Let me help.”

You look up at him, your eyes still a little watery, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself relax. The pressure that’s been building in your chest seems to loosen, even if just a little. Mark’s here, and for right now, you don’t have to be anything other than yourself.

“I missed you today,” you admit quietly.

Mark smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I missed you too. Let’s take a break, yeah? We’ll eat all these cookies and brownies and… whatever else you made, and we’ll talk about everything. Just… no more baking for tonight. Deal?”

You nod, finally allowing yourself to lean fully into him. “Deal.”

Mark keeps his arms around you a moment longer, just holding you in that warm, steady way that always makes you feel like you’re not falling apart.

Then he pulls back slightly, reaching for one of the cookies on the counter—a slightly messy chocolate chip one, the kind you hadn’t even bothered shaping properly because your hands had been shaking too much at the time. He takes a huge bite, chewing thoughtfully.

“These taste good though,” he says around a mouthful, smiling like he means it.

You stare at the piles of desserts surrounding you. Cookies, cupcakes, brownies, bars. Rows and rows of sugar and chocolate and frosting.

Your chest tightens again, but this time it’s not just sadness—it’s guilt. You let your hands drop to your sides, feeling small.

“It’s such a waste,” you murmur, voice low. “I doubt we can finish all this.”

Mark swallows his bite and immediately nods, glancing around the kitchen. “Yeah, no way.” He nudges your side gently, coaxing your gaze back to his. “But… maybe we can donate it? There’s that orphanage in the city—the one you’re always talking about. The kids would love this.”

You blink up at him, and slowly, a small, real smile spreads across your lips.

“That sounds lovely,” you whisper, your voice a little thick with emotion.

Before he can say anything else, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He lets out a soft huff of laughter, wrapping you up against him easily, his larger frame enveloping you in warmth and safety.

“Thanks, Mark,” you murmur against his shoulder, feeling some of the weight in your chest finally lift.

He kisses the top of your head, lingering there for a moment, like he’s trying to kiss away the last pieces of doubt clinging to you. His hands rub slow, soothing circles against your back.

“Always, babe,” he whispers. “Always.”

You stay like that for a while—held close in the kitchen, surrounded by the sweet smell of all the things you baked through your pain. But now it feels different. Now it feels like maybe, somehow, something good can still come out of all of this.

And Mark’s right there with you, making sure you don’t have to face any of it alone.

After a long moment, Mark pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting lightly on your waist.

“Alright,” he says with a small, determined smile. “Operation: Save the Kitchen—and Feed Some Kids—is a go.”

You let out a soft, genuine laugh, the sound easing the tightness that had wrapped around your ribs all evening. Mark leans down and gives you one more kiss on your forehead before stepping back, surveying the kitchen with mock seriousness.

“We’re gonna need boxes,” he says thoughtfully, already rummaging through the pantry.

You grab some plastic containers and a few old bakery boxes you’d saved—just in case—and together, the two of you start packing everything up. It’s messy and chaotic, but somehow, it feels lighter now. The tension from earlier fades little by little, replaced by an easy rhythm as you both work side by side.

At one point, Mark sneakily steals a brownie from a cooling rack. You catch him mid-bite, narrowing your eyes.

“Mark Grayson,” you scold, hands on your hips. “We’re supposed to be donating those.”

He shrugs shamelessly, grinning with a crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth. “Quality control,” he says. “Gotta make sure it’s safe for the kids.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. He looks so pleased with himself, and it’s contagious. You shake your head and toss a dish towel at him, which he dodges dramatically, nearly knocking over a tray of cupcakes in the process.

“Careful!” you squeak, grabbing them just in time.

Mark laughs, reaching out to steady the tray with you. His hands brush over yours, lingering just a second too long, and when you look up at him, there’s something tender in his eyes. A reminder—silent but fierce—that he’s here. That he’s yours.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles almost absentmindedly. “Can’t have your hard work go to waste.”

You clear your throat, cheeks warming a little under his gaze, and pull your hand back, focusing on stacking another layer of cookies into the box.

Once you’ve packed most of the treats, you both sink onto the floor, backs resting against the cabinets, a tray of leftover cookies between you. The kitchen is still messy—flour dusts the countertops, and frosting smears cling to the stove—but for once, you don’t mind.

Mark leans his head back and sighs contentedly. “You know,” he says lazily, picking up a cookie and handing it to you, “this turned out to be a pretty good night.”

You take the cookie, nibbling the edge thoughtfully. “Yeah,” you murmur. “It did.”

He bumps his shoulder lightly against yours. “Next time you need to bake out your feelings… maybe warn me first? So I can show up with more Tupperware?”

You laugh quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Deal.”

He smiles, turning his head to kiss the top of yours again, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. And for the first time today, you don’t feel overwhelmed or trapped—you just feel safe. Loved.

You close your eyes, letting yourself savor it.

Tomorrow there would still be things to deal with. Parents, work, life. But right now, here, with Mark beside you and the kitchen smelling like sugar and warmth, it feels like maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

The next morning, after a sleepy breakfast of stolen cupcakes and coffee, you and Mark pile the packed boxes into his car. It’s a little chaotic—some frosting gets smudged onto the seats, and Mark keeps having to steady the towers of cookies every time he takes a turn—but you’re both laughing the whole way there.

The city orphanage is a modest brick building with a bright blue door, a cheerful mural of handprints painted across the front. It’s early, but a few kids are already outside, playing hopscotch and kicking around an old soccer ball.

Mark parks the car and hops out first, grabbing two boxes. You follow, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him struggle slightly under the weight. He insists he’s fine—“super strength, remember?”—but you can see him wobble a little.

When you step onto the sidewalk, one of the younger kids notices the two of you and immediately races over, wide-eyed.

“Whoa! What’s all that?!”

Mark kneels down slightly to show the top box, giving the kid a big, easy grin. “Special delivery. Homemade cookies, cupcakes, and brownies.”

The kid’s eyes get even wider, practically shining. “For us?”

“All for you,” you say warmly, balancing another box in your arms.

Within minutes, the other kids swarm you both, gasping and giggling at the sight of all the sweets. A few of the staff members come out too, offering grateful smiles and hurried help carrying the rest of the boxes inside.

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” one of the staff says, her voice touched with emotion as she peeks into a box filled with perfectly imperfect chocolate chip cookies.

You shrug a little, feeling shy under her praise. “Had a bit of a… baking emergency,” you say with a small laugh, glancing at Mark, who grins back at you.

“Well, it’s our lucky day then,” the woman says, beaming.

You help them set everything up inside, arranging the desserts on a long table while the kids eagerly crowd around, waiting for permission to dig in. The room smells heavenly—like vanilla and chocolate and sugar—and the atmosphere buzzes with excited chatter.

Mark leans in close while you’re arranging cupcakes, whispering near your ear, “Told you they’d love it.”

You glance at the kids’ excited faces, your heart swelling at the pure, honest joy radiating from them.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, smiling so hard your cheeks ache. “You were right.”

Before you can say anything else, a little girl with two messy braids tugs at your sleeve. She’s holding a slightly lopsided brownie, her face absolutely serious.

“These are the best brownies ever,” she declares solemnly. “You should open a bakery.”

You laugh softly, crouching down to her level. “Maybe one day.”

She beams at you, then scampers off to join the others, brownie clutched tightly in her tiny hands.

Mark watches you, his eyes soft and full of something so tender it makes your heart stutter. He reaches out and squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing along the back of it in small, reassuring strokes.

“I’m proud of you,” he says quietly, just for you to hear.

You squeeze back, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes—but this time, they’re good tears. Full tears.

“Thanks for being here,” you murmur.

“Always,” he promises again, squeezing your hand tighter, like he’s anchoring you to the moment.

Together, you stand side by side, watching the kids laugh and eat and make a mess of frosting and crumbs—and for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest finally, finally lifts.

You weren’t alone. You weren’t failing. You were loved. And maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

[stevie-petey]

could we see what a valentine’s day between bug and steve would look like? love your writing sm!!

anon i need u to know that for some reason it never clicked in my brain that steve and bug were happy and together during valentines day ,,, like i gasped when i read this i cannot believe i didnt think about their silly lil first valentines day together </3

enjoy !

"steve?" you set your keys on his banister, the clatter of metal against granite echoes in the empty house.

all the lights are off and you frown. steve had invited you over earlier, calling you while you were catching up on some readings at home. the lazy saturday had been enjoyable and needed, but the ring of your landline always warms your chest with the knowledge of who will be on the other side.

"come over, angel."

and you did.

but steve doesnt greet you at the door like he always does. there isnt anyone to pepper kisses across your nose and cheeks and grab you with warm hands. the house is empty and you call out for steve again.

"hello?"

you saw steves car in the driveway, so you know hes home, but still the house remains quiet. frown deepening, you wander through the hall, confused as to where your boyfriend has gone.

the kitchen is a mess when you walk through it. the counter is streaked with the white powder of flour and the sink is practically overflowing with dishes stained with what you can only imagine is muddy dough.

theres a faint scent of something sweet and familiar that surrounds you. the tension in your face lessens and your lips turn up into a smile when you see a trail of scattered chocolate chips.

the oven is still warm from use and you shake your head fondly when you see globs of glitter and icing smeared all over the appliances knobs.

"oh, honey," a small laugh, fond and loving. "whatd you do to this poor kitchen?"

though steve doesnt answer, and though you dont know where he is and you cant see his face you love so effortlessly, you can feel the shift in the air when he smiles at your honey coated words.

you make your way into the living room and its there that you find a nest of pillows and blankets strewn against the floor. the long leather couch is pressed upon the wall, clearing the way for the excess of soft material and feathered pillows, and in the middle of it all is steve.

he sits on the blankets, wearing an old sweater that he stole from your closet months ago, looking soft and inviting and endearing as he holds up a tray of what you can only imagine are cookies. theyre misshapen and inconsistent in size and covered in glitter and too much icing and youre so infatuatedly in love.

"hi, angel." steves face is red from the heat of the oven and from the heat of your love and his honeyed eyes watch as you slowly sit in front of him.

"and what are these?" you giggle slightly, pointing at the tray he holds.

"world famous y/n henderson cookies, obviously." steve grabs one, brings it to your lips and presses against them gently. "want a bite?"

your lips open and the sweet tart of chocolate and raisins coat your tongue. the cookie is still warm, soft and gooey and tasting of home.

"im impressed, harrington." you say between bites. steve continues to feed you, gazing at you lovingly as he does so, tender and soft and lovely. "i can hardly taste the pound of icing youve drenched my recipe in."

the deep chuckle that arises from his chest sets your skin on fire.

"why dont you take a look at the icing, dummy."

you look at steve curiously, and he nods his head down at the cookies. his eyes are eager, anticipating something from you. taking a final bite, you look down.

be my valentine?

the writing is hard to read and the icing drips obscenely down the sides of the cookies each letter is written on and theres so much glitter that you almost cant see the words before you.

but you do.

and a startled, love sick laugh tumbles from your throat and into the air. "oh my god."

"a work of art, dont you think?" steve is smiling so wide that his cheeks are tinged pink. "i mean, i really think i outdid myself with this one."

"youre-" you have to bite your lip, smiling too much to even speak.

"im...?" steve leans close, tongue poking his cheek as his own excessive smile overtakes his body. "really hoping you say 'valentine' here."

you hiccup a laugh, tears in your eyes and body saturated and in love. "of course youre my valentine, honey."

"thank god," steve pops a cookie into his mouth, chewing loud and crudely like a teenage boy. "otherwise i bought all this glitter for nothing-"

he only has mere seconds to put down the tray of cookies before your lips are on his. sugar laces the kiss. hands clutch steves sweater as you pull him in closer and closer and closer.

"i love you," he sighs against your mouth, and youre drowning again.

"i love you too," and still he isnt close enough, but you have all night.

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[yuyu1024]

Blind date

Pairings: San × y/n

Genre/tags: smut/angst/fluff

Warning: mature content, pet names (noona, baby, babe etc), cursing, make out session, touching, semi public, small age gap, mention of alcohol/drinking, mention of hj/bj, unprotected sex (wrap it upppp)

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: oh gosh. Been mia for more than a month🫠 work is hectic. And we do OT like crazy now so... im 💀 inside.

And its been a while since i've written. So this is just something short and random

Masterlist

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

The date started pretty chill. A normal and typical first date. You both had and enjoyed dinner. Then you got to the stage of getting to know each other. Asking questions here and there and knowing thr basics of each other.

The... usual.

However as the night continues and you two decided to have a few more drinks to relax a bit after dinner; after that one bottle of red wine he got for you two. Getting alcohol added to the mix of this first date is something else. Well... things got quite heated.

"Noona..." he calls you, breathing heavy and whiny. "N-noona..." his voice even broke the second time he calls you.

While you were kissing him, you began stroking his hardness over his pants. Giving it a squeeze from time to time as well. Making sure he can sense that you want this. You need this. That you need HIM.

"Ahh..." he pulls away from the kiss and leans his back to the velvet sofa. "I think I'm going to explode with the way you touch me..."

You blush and then move closer to him. Teasingly brushing your lips over his. "And I think... I want to have... more than kissing..." you whisper.

He smiles, scoops you by the back of your neck and crash his lips hard to your again.

If only you two were not in a VIP room of the bar nor separated by the heavy wooden sliding door, people would feast and enjoy how you two are inseparable and just eating each other out.

"Fuck!" He grunts as he hovers over you, hand on your waist and his lips all over you. He is like a hungry wolf. "What the fuck did you do to me?" He asks, wearing a grin on his lips. "Is it the alcohol or... you just bewitched me with those chocolate eyes and these cherry lips..."

You gaze at the man on top of you. "I should ask you the same thing..." you push the string of your dress back up your shoulder. "I never do this on first dates... especially on my first blind date..." you then cup his face with both your hands and allow your thumb to caress his cheek. "But here I am..."

"Do you want to have sex with me?" He asks. Sounding a bit hopeful.

"I do." You whisper pushing yourself from laying down to seat back up. "Are you sure though?"

"What do you mean?" He fixes your hair. Making sure he can see your face clearly.

"Well... we are not official yet. Remember, we just met three hours ago."

He chuckles. "Then we can know more about each other during sex... and then after you have a taste of how I can make you feel... maybe you'll say yes to dating me after..."

"Really now...?" You giggle. "You are THAT confident?"

He just smiled and kisses the corner of your lips. Which suprisingly made you heart flutter even more. "My place... or... yours...?"

"How soon can we get to your place?"

His cheeks rises making his dimples prominent. "Well... as soon as we get to the elevator in the lobby and tap my key card... we'll be there in a seconds."

You blink twice. "You... live here? In this building?"

He nods. "I didn't expect you to pick this bar by my building..." he smiles biting his lower lip before he pulls you in for an another smooch. "Looks like... Everything is in favor of me tonight..." he whispers, eyes glued to yours

"It sure is..." you rub your core on his knee, letting him know the effect he have on you. "Take me to your room, Sannie. And let's see how can you make noona cry your name." You lure him with your words and the sound you make as you tell him to fuck you.

Breathing heavily, San grabs you one leg and pushes up. "I don't think I can make it up there..."

Then you hear him unbuckle and unzip his pants.

"Oh!" You gasp after hearing him rip your panties off you.

"So wet..." he aligns his length with your entrance and slowly gives you a taste of how thick he is. "Noona... you're sucking me so well... and... ugh... so tight." He groans, pushing further in.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" You hold onto his forearm. He is pounding you so hard that you could feel him from your pussy to your stomach. "S-so big...S-Sa-Sannie!" You moan, mouth open and panting

"Sshhh..." he leans down and kisses you. "Lower your voice noona... we can't risk the waiter coming in to check on us..." he smiles and then runs his tongue over your lips. "They can't see you looking this so fucking hot... this is for me to enjoy only..."

You nod, covering your mouth with your hands.

He continues to slam on you on a steady pace until he reaches his peak. Thats when he slow downs and make sure his length glides inside you and give you more butterflies.

"I'm... close..." you breathe out. "C-close..."

"Let it go, Noona..." he kisses your jaw. "After you... I'll pull out..."

"Why..." you pout

He smirks. "Noona..." he squeezes your boob and kisses the tip of your sweaty nose. "We can't risk you getting pregnant on our first date." He grunts. "We can go on dates and have more sex later for that..." he pauses for a sec. "Well... if you would agree on dating me..."

You bite your lip and hold your breathe as you feel something popping inside your soul. "Fuck!" You cry. You just came.

"Does it feel good noona?"

You nod. Tears building up in your eyes as you pull him by his collar so you can kiss him.

"My turn..." he says pulling away from your kiss and pulling his length out. He grabs your torn panties and comes on it. But since you wore your tiniest and sexiest undies, some got on his hands.

"Maybe next time..its better to take a risk of having that in me than in your hands..." you comment as you straighten up.

"You're such a naughty girl, noona." He looks for a napkin to clean up his cock and his hand.

"Don't you like it?"

He tries to surpress his smile. "Noona... I just came. Don't make me hard again."

You suddenly became confident and a little bit horny again seeing him react with the smallest effort you do to make him like you. You then go down on your knees on the carpted floor in between his legs and grab his dick.

"Let me clean you up a bit more..." you utter before fully putting his semi hard cock in your mouth

"Fucking hell, Noona!" He almost choked at his words when he felt your warm and wet mouth.

You swirl your tongue and suck him so well that it makes him dizzy and just be a whole ass wreck.

And then as he spreads his legs more and you put him deeper in your throat. The door shakes as its about to slide open.

"Someone is coming..." San mumbles as he tries to move you but you stopped him. Pushing him back with your hand and licking his long length from top to buttom. "N-noona..."

"He'll not come in... trust me... he is just.. curious..." you whisper

You continue to bob your head even with a spy, peaking into the thin opening of the door.

"What a slut..." San smiles, relaxing and letting you eat him more. "I like you, Noona."

[tocinoandkamatis]

can you really blame me?

your sat in your office chair, hunched over the same paperwork again and again until someone had offered you a box of chocolates.

it was your boss- your oh so incredibly hot boss. you dont know why but youve always had a thing for him.

so you thank him- taking the chocolate in your hands and popping it in your mouth.

only for a few minutes later, your left feeling uneasy, hot and bothered.. uncomfortably shifting in your seat and biting your lip. sighing, you pick up your mirror and- well your flushed. pink cheeks and lips with neediness written all over your face. your mind wanders- why? what did i do? i was only ever focused on the paperwork- and then it snapped the chocolate.

you stare at the trashcan and dig out the cover plastic of the small treat, you read it and- 'aphrodisiac'...there imprinted with heart dots for the i right on the back of the wrapper.

and to make sure.. you ask your boss.

and thats when it happens. your lying on his desk with your top buttons undone and your trousers slung over your heels. his big fat cock bullying into your cervix in an excruciating pace. you dont really know whats gotten to this- really, you dont. you just knocked on his office to ask about something and the next second you sat on his desk, his greedy hands trying to tug off your clothes as fast as he can.

your crying and moaning clenching down on him, milking him completely dry. his hand cover your face as an attempt to shush you up- not that he doesnt want you to scream his name. its just that his grandfather is outside right now, talking business with other important men.

but my god he cant stop. hes completely drunk in pleasure- maybe due to the aphrodisiac? but you may find he never ate that chocolate and this event is only because of his need for you.

so your clawing at his back, arching yours as he thrust into you as deep as he could. youve came- what, two times? your sure this would be your fourth. your shaking and moaning but he doesnt stop.

"you like that sweetheart? hm? you like the way im fucking ya hard?"

he grunts as he burries his nose into your neck. you cant do anything but let out a string of whines and whimpers. nodding frantically as his movements get sloppy and uncoordinated, a shrill sign of his impending release. a few things had fallen off the desk but at this point, none of you cared.

"fuck- so tight and warm, just 'f me"

he groans, his small noises laced with a small whine and high pitched whimper as he comes. his hot sead spilling inside of you while your eyes roll to the back of your head.

and finally, he manages to catch his breath and pull out.

"such a pretty little pussy..."

he sighs and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

but your left wondering 'what the fuck just happened and what the fuck is happening?' because hes now in a meeting- pointing out the proposal of his company and back to his serious and cold character.

seriously? did he not just wreck me? you wonder how strong this guy is because- well your still sensitive and shaking slightly and he just looked like he just had cake and coffee at his favourite restaurant.

my thoughts are occupied on the past events though... but then again can you really blame me?

kuroo, geto, osamu, aizawa, kyoya ootori, kenma, nanami

[skzartemis]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Pairing: Changbin x F!reader Genre: Romance, fluff Warning: Sexual implication

Masterlist

The afternoon sun bathed the meadow in a golden glow, casting soft, dappled light through the branches of an ancient oak tree. The scent of fresh earth and blooming wildflowers filled the air, carried by a warm breeze that rustled through the grass.

A checkered picnic blanket lay spread beneath the shade, meticulously arranged with a basket full of delicacies—fresh strawberries, chocolates, sandwiches, and a chilled bottle of white wine. The setup was simple yet intimate, perfect for a Valentine's Day escape from the rest of the world.

Y/N sat on the blanket, the fabric of her dress flowing around her like petals caught in the wind. The floral pattern hugged her frame in all the right places, its soft pastel colors accentuating the glow of her skin. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the golden sunlight catching the curve of her neck.

Changbin sat beside her, leaning back on his hands as he admired the view—not of the scenery, but of her. His gaze roamed lazily over her, appreciation evident in the way his lips quirked up in a small, knowing smirk.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky, edged with something deeper.

Y/N turned to him with a soft smile, tilting her head slightly. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true," he countered, reaching out to brush his fingers along the edge of her dress, where fabric met warm skin. His touch was barely there, but it sent a delicious shiver up her spine.

She reached for a strawberry from the basket, rolling it between her fingers before bringing it to her lips. Changbin's dark eyes followed the motion, watching as she bit into the fruit, her lips parting just slightly. The juice glistened on her mouth, and she licked it away, entirely unaware of the effect she had on him.

Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Want some?" she asked innocently, holding up another strawberry.

Changbin chuckled, leaning in until his face was mere inches from hers. "Feed me."

Y/N raised a brow but played along, holding the fruit to his lips. He didn't take it right away. Instead, he let his lips brush against her fingers, his tongue darting out briefly to graze the tips before finally biting into the strawberry. The action was slow, deliberate, sending a wave of heat curling low in her stomach.

"Tease," she whispered, trying to sound unaffected, but he saw the way her breath hitched.

"Only fair," he said smoothly, wiping a drop of juice from his lower lip with his thumb. "You started it."

She scoffed, but before she could retort, he reached out, fingers skimming the inside of her thigh just above where her dress ended. His touch was light, but it set her skin aflame, her body instantly aware of how close he was.

"You know," she murmured, her voice slightly breathless, "you’re making it very hard to focus on the picnic."

Changbin hummed in amusement, his fingers tracing small circles on her thigh. "Do we really need to focus on the picnic?" His tone was low, inviting, the weight of his gaze sending her heart into a frenzied rhythm.

Y/N swallowed, feeling the warmth of his hand, the firm yet gentle pressure of his touch. "I spent a long time picking out the perfect wine and dessert, you know," she said, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed how distracted she was.

"Mm," he mused, his lips hovering near her ear. "I think I found something even sweeter."

Her breath caught as he closed the space between them, his lips grazing along her jaw before finally capturing her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft at first, teasing, testing—but then she melted against him, pressing closer, fingers tangling in his dark hair as he deepened it.

The taste of strawberries and wine lingered on their lips, intoxicating. The world around them faded—no rustling leaves, no distant birdsong—just the warmth of their bodies, the heat pooling between them.

His hand slid up, fingertips dancing along her waist before splaying against her back, pulling her flush against him. 

Y/N sighed into his mouth, the sound making something primal flicker in his dark eyes.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, her lips kiss-swollen, breath uneven. "We should at least have some of the wine first," she murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes.

Changbin exhaled a soft laugh, resting his forehead against hers. "Fine," he conceded, voice husky. "But after that, you're mine for the rest of the afternoon."

Y/N smirked, pouring them each a glass. "Oh, I already was."

The golden afternoon stretched ahead of them, the picnic all but forgotten as passion mingled with the sweet scent of wildflowers, weaving them into their own little world—one of whispered promises and lingering touches, a love story written in stolen kisses beneath the vast, endless sky.

[cheshireliam]

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Kate: Nn… haah… Liam…?

The moment I let Liam in when he visited my room, he started kissing me without warning.

Liam: — Be quiet. 

He pinned both of my hands above my head, holding them tightly in place so I couldn’t move, and continued his attack on my lips.

(What’s gotten into him…?)

I was struggling to breathe, and yet I couldn't stop him.

Liam looked like he was in more pain than I was, so I accepted his kisses without resistance.

And that went on for who knew how long.

After kissing me for so long that I thought my lips might’ve been swollen, Liam finally released my hands and pulled away. 

Kate: Liam… did something happen? 

Liam: …

Liam: Kate… do you like pain? 

Kate: Huh…? 

Liam: If you like pain, I can give you as much pain as you want.

Liam: If you like being bitten, I’ll bite you however much you want… we can even do more dangerous things together.

Liam: … I'll act as kind of man you want me to be, Kate. So please— 

Liam: Please… don’t abandon me… 

This time, Liam started crying into my chest. 

Kate: … Liam. I don’t like pain. 

Liam: Really…?

Kate: Yes. Because the person I love doesn’t want to hurt me… I always want to take good care of my body and make sure I don't get hurt.

Kate: Also, you don’t need to act. I love you just the way you are, Liam. 

Even though I had told him that countless times before, I firmly reassured him once more. 

Liam: Is that really how you feel…? I thought… 

Liam: … I- I’m sorry, Kate. Thanks for telling me you love me.

Liam: I love you too. So… let me love you as you are too from now on.

Liam: … Sorry for being violent with my kisses. 

Liam gave me a gentle kiss, and the two of us tumbled into bed together. 

…

Kate: … Ah!! I almost forgot all about it!! 

After a moment of Liam and I affirming our love for each other, something came to my mind and I immediately bolted up while still in his arms.

Liam: Is something the matter?

Kate: Yes. I’ll be right back, Liam. 

I got up and brought something from the kitchen back to my room. 

Kate: Happy Valentine’s Day, Liam! 

Liam: Is this… for me?

I presented Liam with a moderately sweet chocolate cake.

Kate: Yup. I wanted to make something you’d enjoy eating… so I used a special chocolate that’s especially aromatic. 

Liam: It really does smell good… 

Kate: Fufu. It was hard to obtain, but worth the effort to beg Jude for help. 

Liam: Jude? By any chance… did you pick up the chocolates this morning? 

Kate: Yes, that’s right… did you happen to see me? 

Kate: I tried to make it a surprise by receiving it in secret…

Liam: What… so that’s what it was…

Liam: I saw you smiling so happy when receiving some package from Jude.

Liam: Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I assumed you and Jude might have feelings for each other…

Kate: Eeh!? That’s impossible. I’m fully devoted to you, Liam!

Kate: So that’s why you asked if I liked pain…

Liam: Yeah… I’m sorry for doubting you. 

Liam: … It made me insecure knowing you’re such a wonderful person that anyone would admire. 

Kate: Then please always voice out whenever you feel that way, I can clear those feelings for you. 

Kate: Because my love for you will absolutely never fade. 

Liam: Thanks, Kate. 

Although it was late at night, the two of us shared the chocolate cake. 

Even if our love melts and loses its shape in the heat caused by jealousy, like chocolate, we can always reshape it beautifully.

Because I want to be together with Liam until the end of time.

[sicbaby]

thinking about how fun it would be to bother leon while he’s trying to work!!

you were bugging and pestering him the whole night, and then he announces that he has to finish up some reports for work. you grew even more agitated at the lack of attention, and the pestering grew even worse.

you follow him up to his home office, plopping yourself down on the floor, arms crossed over your chest with a pout on your face. leon smiles at you with a warm, sincere gaze, despite you being a brat. he walks over to where you were sitting on the floor, leaning over and putting his hands on either sides of your face, squeezing your cheeks lightly. it was a gentle warning, you knew that. “listen, i love you and i know you’re needy right now, but i have to do my work.” he said, voice quiet. “you can help.” he suggests with a small laugh.

you roll your eyes at that. “i’m not helping you with your stupid work.” you pout even more.

he takes a deep sigh. “are you seriously gonna act like this right now, princess?” he asks, standing back up. “i’ll make you hot chocolate and we can watch a shitty horror movie after i’m done. deal?”

“i actually had something else in mind..” you say, a devious grin making its way onto your face.

“oh, yeah? what’s that?” he asks, smiling. you could tell he was in a teasing mood, in order to combat your bratiness. it was going to be a long night…

“you feelin’ okay?” he asks, leaning over once more to kiss you on the forehead when you didn’t respond.

you roll your eyes again. “i’m horny, lee…” you reply bluntly.

he laughs softly, still leaning down. “aww, my little girl is horny?” he says with mock admiration. “would you like to talk about it?” he teases.

“babyyyy,” you draw out, pouting again.

leon gives an exaggerated sigh of defeat. you were just so cute to him. he grabs your hand in his before he speaks. “i’ll tell you what. i’ll let you sit in my lap while i do my reports, okay? does that sound good? then we can do whatever you want after.”

you squeal happily, and leon leads you over to his desk. you eagerly wait for leon to sit down in his office chair, and quickly follow him, your back to his chest. leon finds it hard to actually work on his reports, and he finds himself just staring at you. you looked so cute like this, so needy, it was killing him slowly, deciding to do his work instead of you.

you were content in his lap, until around the 10 minute mark. you had no idea what was going on, on the computer in front of you. and you were so bored.

“you’re squirming too much, baby.” leon finally speaks. he leans his head against yours, his breath on your neck. “you’re cute when you fidget, though..” his breath sends shivers down your spine, and goosebumps appear on your skin. you don’t respond to him, and instead rock your hips side to side slowly, against his crotch. he groans breathily at this.

“woah, baby… do that again, please!” he says, half joking.

“you’re such a perv, leon.” you joke back. he just laughs behind you, leaning back into the chair. you take the opportunity and put your elbows on the desk, pressing back, making the chair move. you press your ass harder into leon’s lap this time.

leon bites his lip, his eyes fluttering. “you’re driving me crazy, angel..” he mumbles, his breath shortening. you begin moving your hips back and forth, feeling his length harden slowly. he’s cursing under his breath, and he grips your waist tightly, holding your ass firmly to him.

“you gotta do your reports, leon..” you tease.

“fuck, i know. cant focus with you on my lap, though.” he drags your hips harshly against his clothed dick. “you feel that, baby? that’s your fault..” he says as he leans over into you, kissing down the side of your neck.

you feel your panties soaking against his jeans, but you know he’s not going to give in… not yet. “just, put it in me, baby? i’ll sit here, and i promise i wont move! please, sir?” you beg him.

he laughs at your request, but likes the idea himself. “you’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you? but, who am i to deny my princess, hmm?” he hums, caressing your sides. he taps on the side of your hips, signaling you to get up. you keep your elbows on the table still, and lift yourself up, just hovering over his lap. he unzips his jeans, pulling out his cock from the hole in his boxers. you move your panties to the side, and slowly sit back down on his cock. the two of you groan loudly at the feeling.

once you were fully sat back down, you began to realize that this probably wasn’t the best idea. your juices were dripping all over his cock, and you found it incredibly challenging to not move, not even an inch. you didn’t want to make leon mad, but it hurt like hell, and there was an itch inside of you that needed to be scratched.

he didn’t seem to be phased however, and leaned back over you to resume his typing. at one point, he leaned down to the side to grab something from one of the drawers. once he returned upright, he adjusted himself in the chair, causing his dick to thrust up into your cunt, making you gasp out a loud moan. he just laughed at you, like he did it on purpose. you whimpered out pathetically, gripping the sides of the desk harshly.

it had been only a couple of minutes, but you physically couldn’t take it anymore. you began slowly rocking your hips again, the feeling of his cock filling you up and the feeling of your lips pressing back and forth against his dick sending your eyes rolling. he quickly notices, and brings a firm grip on your right hip, stopping you, making you groan out.

“you just can’t help yourself, can you?” he laughs.

“please, please, leon… i need you so… bad.” you beg, rocking your hips again, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

he doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re close to tears, he can hear it in your voice. “hey… hey… baby…” he shushes you, sweetly. “shh, it’s okay..” he whispers as he nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses there and up to your chin, all while rubbing circles on your back.

you sniffle. “please, leon… i need it so bad. cant take it anymore..” you beg, beginning to move your hips again. this time, you bring yourself slightly up and down his cock, barely moving, yet feeling the sensations so strongly.

leon groans at your movements. “y/n… shit.” his voice is gentle, but the heat coursing through his body is anything but. he leans back in the chair, lifting your skirt up your back, eyeing your ass bouncing slightly up and down against his hips.

his hands are on your hips, but he’s not stopping you from moving. once you realize this, you begin moving at a faster pace this time, a mixture of rocking back and forth and bouncing up and down.

leon manages to laugh through the pleasure. “so much for finishing these fuckin’ reports…” he mutters under his breath. he can’t bring himself to be upset though, he’s too enthralled in your warmth and the sound of your beautiful moans. you’re moaning loudly, finally getting the pleasure you so desperately needed before, and leon won’t deny you of it.

you lift yourself fully off of his cock, and slam back down, causing the two of you to moan out. his dick is making you feel so good, sending shivers up your spine, and you can’t help but squeeze your cunt every now and then, clamping his hard cock inside of you.

leon groans in satisfaction and leans forward, holding your body close to his. he begins kissing your neck again. "mmm, that's it, baby," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "you like feeling my cock deep inside you, don't you? you’re such a dirty little slut, riding me like this.”

his words were laced with a mix of dominance and adoration, perfectly tailored to ignite a fire within you. he reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. leon's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements and urging you to take him deeper, his dominance taking over fully now.

"you're so fucking tight, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "i love watching you bounce on my cock, taking every inch. you're mine, princess. mine to fuck as i please."

his words were punctuated by passionate kisses, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone. you were getting drunk off of his cock and his dirty words, your brain turning to mush as all you could think about was him and how his cock was rubbing your walls so deliciously.

"you're such a fucking slut for me, aren't you? you need my cock deep inside you. tell me how badly you want it," he growled, his voice dripping with lust.

“i- ah! i- fuck… need it, daddy… need you al-always…” you barely manage to get out, your words slurring as he took control, thrusting up into your throbbing cunt harshly.

“mmm, that’s right, baby. that’s fucking right.” your body convulsed in response, moans filling the room as he pounded into you relentlessly. he brings his hand around to your front, his palm connecting with your clit in sharp, stinging slaps. each slap served as a reminder of your earlier bratty behavior and a punishment for testing his patience. he knew it would also send you over the edge, the mixture of pleasure and pain would push you towards an explosive climax.

“oh, fuck!” you cried out, your body jolting away from his slaps. “no.. daddy, no!” you protested, yet your pussy gave you away, clenching tightly with every slap against your puffy hood.

"fuck, that's it, baby," he groaned, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and desire. "you like it when i punish you, don't you? such a naughty little brat, needing my firm hand to put you in your place."

you could barely talk, panting like a dog while pleasure and pain filled your senses. you nodded your head eagerly at his words. “yes… yes… yes!” you breathed out. he smiles at how quickly he gets you to submit.

the slaps on your clit increased, mixed with harsh pinches that he soothed over with gentle fingers before restarting the cycle over again. your moans grew louder, tongue lolling, whimpering and drooling all over his desk as your body was on the edge of release as he continued his relentless assault.

leon could tell you were close, your sweet little pussy clenching and sucking his cock all the way inside. he could feel his own climax building, but he was determined to push you over the edge first. he brings his wet fingers, covered in your essence up, shoving them into your already open mouth. you whimper around his fingers, and he feels your slobber dripping down his wrist. “dirty girl, dumb fucking baby.” he mutters under his breath.

"cum for me, brat," he said firmly, his voice low and commanding. "let go and show me how good my cock makes you feel.” he shoves his fingers even more down your throat, making you gag as you cry and fuck yourself back on his cock desperately.

he smirks, taking his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva following his hand as he goes down to rub at your clit. you practically scream, your eyes rolling back as you release the desk, your body arching backwards until your head hits his shoulder. your pussy clenches around him harshly as you cum hard on his cock, toes curling as your vision goes black.

the sound of your release, the clenching of your walls around him, pushed leon over the edge as well, his own release washing over him in waves of ecstasy. “good fucking girl.. take my cum… take it,” he chants as his hot seed spills into your pulsating cunt. you whine, feeling his cock pulsate inside of you, a mixture of yours and his cum leaking down your thighs.

you slump against him, trembling and thoroughly fucked out as he holds you to his chest. he presses a sweet kiss to your hair once he calms down himself. “such a good girl, always take me so well..” he presses another kiss to your hair, making you sigh in content.

“mm, but we’re not done yet, princess.” he says meanly, his cock already hardening again inside of you. “gonna show you how much i love breaking dirty little brats like you.”

[yanderefarm]

@yanoverload easter

i feel a lil awkward doing an easter for crows characters but not a full one like this for mine but... they have less characters and like this is the easter content they deserve. i hope i captured them properly... hugos is bad but i tried my best.

general cw;; yandere stuff suggestive stuff

Eliphas

He doesn't understand the holiday almost at all. When you tell him about things like egg hunts he finds it stupid. That doesn't stop him from secretly hiding a bunch of eggs around the area. They're all real eggs so if you don't find them all its going to smell terrible in a few days. If you explained valentine's day to him as well you could make chocolate bunnies together. It'll be a mess.

After the day starts to wind down and the sun sets Eliphas changes his clothes into something more lacey and see through though it's embarrassing. His face is red as he explains to you his own holiday. With spring comes a new cycle of life and birth and he wants to make new life with you. His cheeks burn as he sits on your stomach, his thin negligee slipping off his shoulders. You'll help him bring in the spring won't you?

Ramune

Holy holidays like Easter aren't really a demon's thing. The only way Ramune really celebrates is by dressing up as a girly slutty bunny on stream and making fun of people who donate to him. Every ding of the donation calling him hot or asking him about his tail makes him laugh uproariously. Cruel comments about how do those idiots even realize he's a man or how they're so corny and pathetic. He's especially cruel feeding off all the horny attention from guys who don't have anyone else but him to spend Easter with. When one of his viewers point out that he's the same he flies into a fury screaming at his camera before shutting everything off.

You come home exhausted from your own plans with friends and family expecting to hit your bed and pass out. The demon sitting in your room has different plans. He's dressed head to toe in a sexy bunny costume that leaves nothing to the imagination, his finger twirls around his hair while his little fangs bite at his plump lips. Won't you help him with his fluffy bunny tail? He repeats the same lines he called corny hours before. You're too exhausted. He pushes it again, whining desperately as he spreads his thick thighs for you. You're the only one he has after all.

Beau

Leading up to Easter is an exciting time for a bakery, lots of pastel colored treats and fake grass made of shredded coconut. Beau is always busy this time of year so when it comes to the actual day you prepare all the food for the both of you. A nice wholesome little dinner with him and his granny complimented by delicious cupcakes. Beau gives you a basket full of goodies he picked out just for you and you give him a little basket much the same. What a wholesome holiday.

But again when night comes its hard not to notice how the stress of working so hard has taken such a toll on him. It's even harder not to notice how his swollen and full udders haven't been properly milked in a week. He sits on your shared bed, a blush on his cheeks as what's been building up all spring season finally hits his body hard. Your hands rub circles into his aching shoulders as he lets out a happy moo. It's ok you promise to help take good care of him through his breeding cycle.

Dae-ho

Your Easters used to be normal joyous occasions where you got to spend time with your family and loved ones. It's something you desperately needed now more than ever but the same cruel circumstances that make you desperate for human connection keeps you locked away from it. Instead you're in your law offices going over your upcoming case with a lump in your throat. When will it happen again? Who will he get this time? He's been so quiet since the horrifying Valentine's debacle.

You never expected that when you came home long after the sun had already set to find something so... normal. Relatively speaking. An Easter dinner lovingly crafted and mixed with traditional Korean dishes was set out at a table that was surrounded by large bunny plushies. It looked delicious. You would probably cave and eat it after you changed into your pajamas. However when you opened the bedroom door there he was. The phantom haunting your life was dressed in cute soft bunny pjs and sleeping soundly on your bed. Your fingers gently brushed some of his hair out of his face which caused him to stir. His soft red eyes gazed up at you with utmost adoration.

Mono

Another demon who finds no interest in Easter. Well he didn't until he learned that you were going to take him out to meet your family. At a park!! His tail hadn't stopped wagging since then. He hadn't liked being forced to wear a shirt and he really didn't like being forced to use silverware to eat. But the thing Mono hated the most about Easter? All the other dogs your family members had!! Your relative's dogs would excitedly greet you only for your big guard dog to wrap his arms around your waist and start growling. He growled at every dog, his ears laying flat. One time his bangs even slipped a little bit and the poor dog had to go hide under a bench. But other than all those awful things Mono loved Easter! He loved playing Easter games in the park, he loved eating a bunch of ham (almost half), he loved you petting him and telling him he was being good! He might actually really love Easter!!

When you finally got home was his favorite part. You drew a nice bath and he was sitting by the tub wagging his tail. He was such a good boy today wasn't he? He was!! Your fingers brushed back his hair, his own hand shooting up to stop you from revealing his eyes. Your cute puppy. He definitely deserves a treat for being a good boy. He deserves his collar and a night in your bed doesn't he?

Aiko

Aiko is used to Easter traditions, she's used to the same plans she's had with her husband for years now. But that's not happening anymore, is it? The house feels emptier as the holiday approaches. She's grateful when you agree to stop by after your own celebrations. She's already planning how to keep you there and never let you leave her side. She didn't expect for you to come over with an entire dinner and two extravagant Easter baskets. You explained how the bigger one was from your relatives, how they're big fans of her. Of course she cared more about the slightly smaller one, the one you seemed more embarrassed by. Awkwardly telling her how you hoped it would bring her joy. She pulled out a little white rabbit plush with bright blue horns. Her heart was racing.

You didn't even get the chance to reheat the food before you were pinned to the floor. Your back pressed right against the carpet and your arms pinned above your head. Aiko sat on your stomach, her soft thighs helping her hold you in place. There was a coy smile on her lips as she leaned in close. You should be more careful with a dragon during mating season.

Himmel

Easter as we know it doesn't exist there but there's a similar religious holiday that takes place in the middle of spring. Of course you would expect and respect the saintess to spend the holiday with her god while you prepared things for the spring festival in the capital. Two of you doing completely separate things. It was hard to be pretending to practice a religious holiday that Himmel could not be less interested in. It was hard to pretend like he didn't want to drop everything and run to your side. It was too much.

One night with the week long holiday almost over Himmel found himself drawn from the temple to your room. He was surprised to see you still awake, one hand buried in your hair in frustration as you worked by candle light. His body pressed against the door made it let out a creak as it opened a bit more. Why was he here? He couldn't answer you. He just needed to see you. It was sinful the way you kissed him but neither of you raised any concern. Your limbs quickly becoming tangled.

Hayato

Before for Easter you would have just played a cute cozy game with your girlfriend and eaten dinner with your family. Now? You're not allowed to leave her home. You can't go home for Easter not in the position you're in now. So instead you decide to make the best of it. A small celebration with your boyfriend girlfriend. You ordered a basket with a bunch of cute plushies and new jewelry for him. You figured that and some Chinese takeout would make enough of a celebration. You didn't expect him to start crying at your gifts, though you probably should have.

You also didn't expect her to awkwardly corner you in your shared bedroom. He revealed underneath his clothes was a sexy bunny costume that didn't fit him exactly right. He took in a shaky breath as he tried to read your shocked reaction. She couldn't help but start crying again as she tried in vain to cover her body with her arms. She didn't look cute like the girls in the pictures or the pretty little feminine boys online. She was just ugly she sobbed. You collected yourself and grabbed her arms as you continued to stare in awe at the sexy sight. It was hard to comfort her with the sexy sight of her pinkish nipples peaking out past the too big bra cups. It was easier to reassure her just how sexy she looked with your mouth on hers.

Hugo

How does someone explain a religious holiday to an unholy creation? You don't even have the heart to correct his assumption that Jesus was like him because it just makes him so happy. Though you do have to tell him not to say that in front of other people. Living in a town like this it's important Easter day to go to church and then the Easter lunch afterwards. You are more than welcome to take home some leftovers to your new abomination. And more than leftovers you bring him a few flowers and some bunnies you carved from wood. His eyes light up so cutely when he sees the little hop hops as he calls them. It's even cuter watching him make them hop around and play together. His face goes a dark shade of green in embarrassment when he accidentally drops one bunny in a naughty position with another bunny. It's hard not to laugh at his cute reaction.

Maybe you two will be like the bunnies? But your teasing doesn't work on him as you notice him grow completely still. He fidgets a little bit before those big eyes are looking up at you. Can we? Oh... Can you?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: november 2024

*arrives halfway through december with a hot chocolate in hand* WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT I READ IN NOVEMBER

this is not going to be my best or most thoroughly written roundup but I want this shit posted so you get what you get

Sharks Don't Sink: Adventures of a Rogue Shark Scientist (Jasmin Graham with Makeba Raisin, 2024) - as a shark enjoyer who was too dumb to go into marine biology, I was really looking forward to Graham's book about her experiences as a Black woman working in this very white field. while the book's a bit dry it's also a fun, quick read, with an infinitely likeable narrator whose passion bursts out of every page and will delight anybody who also loves sharks. Graham's determination to forge her own path and make spaces for herself and other women of color makes for an inspiring story, and though this book isn't specifically targeted at younger readers, I'd happily recommend gifting it to any girls looking at getting into any kind of animal-related field so that they can find a worthy role model in Jasmin Graham.

Bite by Bite: Nourishments and Jamborees (Aimee Nezhukumatathil, 2024) - I feel bad, but I was disappointed! I was so smitten with poet Nezhukumatathill's previous collection of short essays, World of Wonder, in which she extolls the virtues of various animals and plants. while I always enjoy a lush description of a good food, and the illustrations were very charming (the shave ice in particular had me YEARNING to blow my savings on a trip to Hawaii), it Bite by Bite lacked the substance of its predecessor. the connections drawn in each essay felt a bit more contrived this time around, with many feeling like thinly veiled justifications for Nezhukumatathil to pontificate on her sons growing up rather than celebrating the foods she spotlights for their own merits. I ended up feeling as if I was rushing to get it over with, which is always sad.

Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age (Annalee Newtiz, 2021) - this was one of the most unexpect delights of the year. I know borderline nothing about archaeology and anthropology, but Newitz paints such vivid images of their subjects that I found myself getting genuinely emo about disaster relief efforts in Pompeii. idk what it was, man, but they took their right turns stupid just like we did! humans is the same after all this time! it's been a while since I picked up a book about something totally alien to me and got to settle in for the pure joy of learning from a talented writer, and this book hit the spot tremendously. if anyone is planning on doing my 2025 book bingo challenge and needs an idea for the nonfiction about a topic that's new to them, consider this a recommendation!

The Truth According to Ember (Danica Nava, 2024) - maaaaan. I wasn't, like, blown away by the synopsis of this romance novel, in which the titular Ember lies about being white rather than Chickasaw in order to land a job only to immediately find herself crushing hard on a Native coworker, Danuwoa, and getting increasingly wrapped up in a web of lies. while the plot's not exactly original, I was excited to check out a book by a Native author about Native characters getting a pretty big release, something I hadn't yet encountered in romancelandia. but honestly? the biggest disappointment in this book wasn't the unoriginal story or Disney Channel sitcom-levels of hijinks to maintain the various lies, but it's the fact that lying about being white isn't even really the crux of the plot. Ember doesn't get fired for that! that's not actually the thing anyone has an issue with! she gets in trouble for lying about having a degree that she doesn't have to get a job she's wildly underqualified for, which is a significantly bigger issue! but all of the marketing is based on her lying about being Native, which feels... idk, it feels misleading? also the romance takes, like, a loooong time to show up; Danuowa is very secondary for like the first third of the book while we learn about the ins and outs of Ember's life, family drama, and new job. I don't know if I've ever been begging for a romance heroine to interact with love interest more, but this book made it happen.

The MAGA Diaries: My Surreal Adventures Inside the Right-Wing (And How I Got Out) (Tina Nguyen, 2024) - on the one hand, I really fuckin' feel for Tina Nguyen. what started out as a college flirtation with libertarianism spiraled into a deep immersion in the burgeoning alt-right thanks to her then-boyfriend, including a brief stint working under Tucker Carlson himself. Nguyen ultimately comes to realize the extent of batshit insanity the republican party is descending into, jumping ship well before the 2016 election thanks to an increasing sense that something is deeply amiss among the right's journalism core. (one especially chilling anecdote involves Nguyen, the daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, discovering that her longtime mentor, a man she had trusted for years to help advise her career, had been caught discussing a desire to curb America's population of immigrants.) although she spins her firsthand knowledge and exhaustive list of contacts to start reporting on the right for liberal outlets, Nguyen remains skeptical of what she perceives a critical lack of organization among the Democrats, which I can certainly forgive her for. I have a bit more side eye for Nguyen's reluctance to fully condemn some of her old colleagues; in particular, she goes to lengths to emphasize that Carlson was a pretty chill boss. idk, maybe it's hard to cut ties that completely, even with people who turned out to be monsters. overall the memoir is lacking any especially artful prose but is a bitchin' gossip piece with some decent insights into how the right organizes.

Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning (Cathy Park Hong, 2020) - it's always so momentous when a book actually lives up to the hype. Hong blurs memoir and essay for a resonant and painful examination of all the ways Asian American identity gets tangled up in shame, including her own. this book is potent, and by far one of my favorite nonfiction reads of the year. I think @zaricats recommended it like 700 years ago so thank you for that!

Crazy Rich Asians (Kevin Kwan, 2013) - it's. fine. it's literally just fine.

The Nightmare Before Kissmas (Sara Raasch, 2024) - not fine, this one sucked shit so bad it gave me a headache multiple times. how do you squander a premise as silly as "the Christmas Prince and the Halloween Prince are in secret gay love"? how do you make that boring? why was this mostly just a book about workplace politics with a little tinsel on top? unfortunately I WILL be reading the sequel in March, but only to complain.

Doppelganger: A Trip Into the Mirror World (Naomi Klein, 2024) - a dizzying work that ties together an astonishing number of ideas, beginning with Klein's own frustrations with being mistaken for disgraced feminist writer turned vaccine conspiracy hack Naomi Wolf to the chaotic and reactionary political landscape that so many of us find ourselves struggling to make sense of. it's a heavy and heady book, dense with well considered observations and expertly articulated thoughts despite Klein's own acknowledgement that her "research" often veered into unreasonable levels of obsession. despite Klein's long career this was my first time reading her work, and now I am Listening to anything and everything she has to say.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 12 (Ryoko Kui, trans. Taylor Engel, 2023) - I truly genuinely can't say anything about Volume 12 without saying that, by the time I'm posting this, I have also read Volumes 13 and 14 and finished the series and man. man man man. this story is just so GOOD. genuinely I love Dungeon Meshi so much.

Buzz: A Stimulating History of the Sex Toy (Hallie Lieberman, 2017) - a very fun and interesting history of the sale of sex toys in the US, including some very appreciated love for unsung heroes of the sex toy field like Jewish ventriloquist Ted Marche, Black disability activist Gosnell Duncan, and all of the women who pioneered sex stores that prioritized woman as their clientele. granted, that last group of second wave feminists comes with all the accompanying second wave bioessentialism you'd expect, and I'd be remiss not to note that the book also takes a frustratingly cissexist approach in the way it talks about man = penis and woman = vagina. I don't think Lieberman sought out to be deliberately transphobic (there is, briefly, a mention of a trans woman taking over one of the sex toy companies the book follows, and she is recognized as a woman even if her transition is shoehorned in rather awkwardly) but simply out of her depth with knowing how to address trans people in the very binary historical narrative she constructs. it's grating, but also unsurprising for a book published in 2017. if you can handle the cis weirdness and you, like me, are interested in how sexuality and pleasure are litigated, I'd really recommend checking this one out; I've already added it to the official sex witch library. it's worth the read for the surprising history of Adam & Eve alone.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

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

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

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

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

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

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

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

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

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[emma23]

Drunk in love :

Peter parker x reader

If you want to support me, check this out 💕

https://ko-fi.com/settings?tab=profile

The clock struck 11:34 PM as you climbed the stairs to Peter's apartment. The worn-out sneakers on your feet made soft thuds against the steps, the silence of the hallway only amplifying your quiet grumbling. Peter hadn't answered any of your calls all evening, which was odd, considering he was usually glued to his phone like a moth to a flame.

You pushed the key into the lock, a privilege earned after dating for three years, and swung the door open, your irritation brewing into full-blown exasperation.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, where the hell—" you began, only to freeze mid-sentence.

Peter was sprawled in a chair in the middle of the living room, looking like something out of an indie music video. His brown hair was a disheveled mess, sticking out in every direction as if he'd run his hands through it a thousand times. His button-up shirt hung open, exposing his toned chest and stomach, a sight that momentarily distracted you from your frustration. An empty bottle of some cheap-looking whiskey was in his hand, his fingers loosely gripping the neck of the glass as it dangled dangerously close to falling.

And, good God, he was manspreading.

Your face burned instantly, and you blinked rapidly, trying to figure out why your brain short-circuited. Was it the alcohol-induced smirk? The lazy confidence in his posture? The slight flush on his cheeks from being completely wasted?

“You’re home late,” Peter drawled, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“Are you drunk?” you blurted, stepping closer cautiously.

“Nooo,” he slurred, the grin on his face betraying the lie.

“Peter…” You sighed, hands on your hips as you leaned closer to him. “What happened?”

He shrugged, tilting his head back to look at you. “Bad day,” he muttered. “So, I thought… Why not try whiskey? Bad idea, by the way. Tastes like…burnt regret.”

You tried to suppress a giggle but failed miserably. "Burnt regret? Did you come up with that yourself?"

He smiled lazily, the kind of smile that made your knees weak. "Yup. Wanna put it in one of your 'dumb little notebooks'?" he teased, referencing your penchant for jotting down funny things he said.

“Don’t call them dumb. They’re—Peter!” You jumped back as he tried to tug you onto his lap.

“Sit with me,” he insisted, his grin widening.

“Peter, you're drunk and—”

“And you're beautiful,” he interrupted, his tone suddenly softer, the humor melting away.

Your heart did that annoying thing it always did around him—fluttered like it was auditioning to be a bird. “That’s not going to get you out of this,” you replied, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

Peter blinked up at you, his chocolate-brown eyes glassy but sincere. “I’m serious, Y/N. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky with you.”

You bit your lip, torn between scolding him for getting this drunk alone and melting into a puddle of feelings. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know.” He leaned back in the chair, still smirking. "But you love me anyway."

“I tolerate you,” you corrected, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

The tension thickened, the air between you charged with an energy you couldn't quite place. Peter's gaze roamed over you, lingering just a second too long on your lips before trailing down to your exposed collarbone.

“You’re staring,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice deeper now. “Can’t help it.”

“Peter, you’re—”

“I’m drunk,” he finished for you, setting the bottle down on the coffee table with a clumsy thud. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Your breath hitched as he stood, towering over you now. The alcohol had made him bolder, the usual nervousness replaced with a magnetic confidence.

“Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?” he asked, his voice husky.

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling as he closed the distance between you. “Peter…”

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, urgent yet tender, the taste of whiskey faint but not unpleasant. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

“Peter,” you mumbled against his lips, trying to pull away, but he only held you tighter.

“Don’t stop me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“Not fair,” you muttered, giving in as your fingers tangled in his messy hair.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “All’s fair in love and…whatever this is.”

Hours later, after a whirlwind of tangled sheets and whispered confessions, you found yourself lying beside him, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

“You’re never drinking alone again,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed in agreement. “Deal. But only if you promise to always be the one to bring me home.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Deal.”

As sleep began to claim you both, Peter mumbled one last thing:

“Next time, though, let’s try vodka. Whiskey’s for heartbreak, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You snorted. “Deal, Captain Burnt Regret”

[shinestarhwaa]

okay babes for the prompts i got something i think you’d really like🤭

wooyoungie with 2, 3, 17, 22, 25 + 26, 30, 45, + 52, 68

i hope its not too much though

Girl you're such a freak LOL, so many of them :0

^^ this is me pretending to be shocked. I narrowed it down to one line (I used line 30) since they can only be used once but I used similar ones instead for the others! X

anyway, I hope u enjoy it babes

YOU&ME || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Tags/Warnings: Friends to lovers AU, Non-Idol AU, biting kink, marking, hairpulling, lingerie kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), doggy style, missionary, namecalling (slut, whore, but its loving rlly <3), squirting, unprotected sex

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123

ENJOY!

"I'm just saying, I'm pretty good as sex. I give you orgasms, you know," Wooyoung grinned. You threw your head back as you laughed, hair falling back.

Wooyoung watched your every move, feeling mesmerized by the way you looked. You knew Wooyoung had a thing for you by the way he always flirted with you and looked at you, but you always told him to just be friends. You knew there was no harm intended in his flirtations, so you let him.

Yet tonight the chocolate strawberries and the champagne started to sound like "I want you to fuck me all day, like every day."

"Excuse me?" He muttered. You gasped and covered your mouth. You did not just say that out loud. "Well, well, well, so that means you're finally giving in, Y/N?" "N-no, I just-"

His finger rested against your lips, shushing you. "You're not getting out of this one, Y/N, if you want me to fuck you all day long, every day, I'll be glad to do so."

Seconds later you were stumbling through his apartment, hands and lips everywhere. Suddenly he was like all you ever needed; you were a bee addicted to his nectar; the way his lips tasted drove you crazy. There was still a hint of the rich chocolate and fresh strawberry on his tongue.

''Feel what you are doing to me,'' he grunted out against your lips as he took your hand and made you palm the growing erection in his jeans. You moaned into his mouth as you kissed him again. Clothes flew off left and right and soon enough the both of you were half naked, standing in front of each other.

Wooyoung licked his lips as he looked at you in your red lingerie and many filthy thoughts played his mind. ''I cannot wait to fucking taste you, I want you coming all over my face,'' Wooyoung panted as he kissed your neck and collarbones, biting your skin. You winced and dug your nails into the flesh on his hips. ''Fuck, Wooyoung,'' you moaned. "You sound so hot moaning my name baby," he grunted.

He kissed your chest, the exposed part of your breast above your bra, biting down on it again, leaving a darkred mark. ''Fuck, bite me baby,'' you moaned as he got on his knees, facing your soft thighs. He left marks over your thighs, just biting down on them, nibbling slightly every now and then. "Is that a tattoo?" "Now's not the time Wooyoung, fuck, get a move on it."

Wooyoung got up again and removed his underwear His hard cock was nearly leaking with how horny he was, the tip red and angry. It was bigger than you would've expected it to be. You would be lying if you said you hadn't ever thought about it before, what would be inside his pants and now it was right in front of you.

His length was big, veiny and somehow gorgeous, something you had never expected yourself to think about a penis. You expected him to grab you and make you suck him off (you wanted to tho) but he laid on the bed and gestured you to come to him.

"Come on princess, I want you to sit on my face."

Your heart nearly stopped beating as he said that but you didn't waste another second. You took off your lingerie and got on top of him, hovering your wet pussy above his face.

''When I tell you to sit on my face, I do not mean hover. Sit the fuck down,'' Wooyoung complained from underneath you. His hands grabbed the flesh of your thighs and he pulled you closer to him. You didn't let yourself go for 100% but you relaxed as you felt his tongue slide through your slit.

You moaned out his name as his tongue zigzagged through your folds and circled around your clit, collecting all your wetness. Wooyoung fucked you with his tongue, reaching sweet spots inside you that you didn't know you even had. He licked your clit and sucked on it roughly, earning loud moans from you.

In a matter of minutes your body was trembling, coming undone on Wooyoung's tongue. He rode out your orgasm and he laid you down gently as you came down from your high.

"You're such a dirty whore, aren't you? You came pretty quickly." A blush creeped up on your cheeks as you watched him smirk at you. "Only your dirty whore..."

Wooyoungs fingers slid between your thighs, playing with your sensitive clit. "W-Wooyoung!" You moaned out. He bit in your soft skin again, attacking your breasts. "Y-you fucking like that biting thing, huh?" You panted out. He grunted as he kept abusing your clit with his fingers. "Don't fucking kink shame me," he joked.

"You're so wet baby, so slick," he smirked as he pumped 2 fingers into you, "so fucking smooth." You were moaning uncontrollably as he picked up his pace, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he curled his fingers just right.

"Harder," you moaned out. Wooyoung laughed and smirked, tongue poking into his cheek as he did so. He couldn't get the smirk of his face as he felt your arousal drip down his hand onto the sheets.

"Are you a squirter baby? Is my darling gonna squirt for me?" "Yes! Yes, fuck I can do that for you, Woo, I promise, I'll be good, I'll do it for you!" "Good girl, go ahead then, squirt all over my hand for me angel."

You let go and did as you were told, squirting over Wooyoung's hand as he got you through another orgasm. You panted loudly, trying to recover but Wooyoung never stopped moving his fingers. "You take my fingers so well, don't you babygirl? Look at that, keep on going angel, that's it, fuck, yeah that's it."

You couldn't stop, arousal kept leaking from your abused pussy, body shaking and tears forming in your eyes. "I love the way you look with my fingers inside you, angel."

"P-please I can't anymore!" You cried out, so fucked out from the overstimulation. ''Give me one more baby, one more, cum for me, be a good girl and say thank you,'' Wooyoung smirked as he fucked you hard with his fingers. ''Yes! Yes, thank you thank you thank you-'' you cried out as you felt fireworks in your body and you came so hard you swore you saw stars.

Wooyoung helped you calm down from your sweet relief but he was quick to slide his leaking cock in immediately. "W-Woo!" You whined out as he filled you up completely. You clenched around him as he fucked you hard and rough, hands gripping at your thighs and hips.

"O-oh God, fuck!"

"Such a needy fucking little thing, aren't you?" He grunted as he kept thrusting into you, slowly losing himself in the motion as well. Soon enough you were putty in each other's hands, bodies melting together as the moonlight shone on you, highlighting your beautiful teary eyes.

''Wooyoung it feels so good!''you screamed out as he pounded his hard slick cock into you. ''Yeah, baby, I know, I fucking know, it's so good!''

He suddenly pulled out of you and before you could protest he had you flipped over with your ass up. He slid into your cunt from behind and thrusted hard. "Fuck!" You screamed out.

Wooyoung's hand gathered your hair, turning it into a ponytail and he pulled it, hard, making you scream out his name. He pulled you up against his chest as he pounded into you, one arm around your waist, holding him against your body, the other still pulling your hair back.

"Yes! Pull my hair, pull my fucking hair, make me your slut, fuck, I'm your slut," you cried out.

"Yes you are, my fucking slut, you're my fucking cockslut, taking me so well. And you're gonna cum for me, okay? You're gonna fucking cum for me."

"Yes, Yes I'm cumming, I'm cumming for you! All for you! F-For your cock only!" You moaned loudly. "Good girl, that's it baby, that's it, you and me, you and me," he growled in your ear.

For the last time your body trembled as you came around him, a tear falling down your cheek as the pleasure became too much. Soon enough Wooyoung released inside you too, moaning your name as he did so.

"Good... you're so good," he panted as he laid you down, in his arms. He held you for what felt like an eternity before he spoke up again. "Maybe I'm a bit selfish... but I don't want anyone else to touch you. Only me. Only you and me."

You nodded and caressed his cheek gently. "I love you and me," you smiled. ''Next time you're sucking my cock tho, okay?''

[crowandmousewritingco]

🇹​🇭​🇪​ 🇲​🇺​🇸​🇪​🇺​🇲​ 🇫​🇪​🇮​🇱​🇩​🇹​🇷​🇮​🇵​

Paring: Mr. Ben x trans!reader

Words: 1.8k

Rating: R to P

Author: Mod Crow

Author's Note: This was originally a Kinktober prompt, but I couldn't get it finish it in time. Soooo instead, I present to you what I'm going to try to post all of my unfinished Kinktober fics, and I'm going to call them the "Post Nut November" fics. I'm aware the gif isn't Mr. Ben (let's use our imaginations gurlies) but there aren't many good gifs of that man out there. Besides, we know Mr. Ben wears glasses thanks to one of the sexy fancams that one of those students made.

Summary: What was supposed to be a normal field trip with your daughter’s class turns out to be anything but that. You end up talking to your daughter’s teacher -Mr. Ben- while on the bus ride to the museum. Once at the museum Mr. Ben drags you off to an “Employees Only’ area, and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Language, sexual content (obviously lol), you do have a daughter in this (Dahlia), pet names (sir and puppy) MDNI 18+

When you had agreed to help your daughter -Dahlia’s- ninth grade history class with their Smithsonian trips, you had been expecting the constant screaming of kids and constantly telling them to stay close and to not touch anything. You even came prepared with your little travel first-aid kit (you could never be too prepared when it comes to kids.) What you didn’t take into account was their teacher. You thought you knew what you were agreeing to, but as the bus made its way to D.C. the two of you had a chance to get to know each other. What you didn’t plan was the thing the two of you were currently doing.

Slapping one hand over your mouth, attempts to muffle the unholy hymns of pleasure that want to leave through your kiss plumped lips. Looking down to Mr. Ben -or Ben as he kept insisting you call him- your eyes instantly finding his, the welcoming warm chocolate eyes replaced with pupils blown wide with want and need. 

Gripping Ben’s hair tighter, you threw your head back as your hips took on a mind of their own. As you stood there, in some side hallway that extended past an ‘Employee Only’ sign, you could feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your once rhythmic  grinding soon becomes feverish, the silence you had tried so hard to preserve now filled with the wet sounds of Ben’s handwork and the soft pants as you need the edge.

“F-Fuck…Ben. I-I’m gonna…ahhh…I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” Your voice came out as a pleading whine, and that seemed to spur him on. Without warning you felt the knot in your stomach snap, your legs -or rather leg- held Ben closer to you, as you came, a silent scream had your face in this contorted look of pleasure and surprise. Your grinding slowed as your high raked through your body, till you were nothing more than a shaky mess.

Feeling Ben pull away, you gasp slightly, the cool air of the museum hitting your sensitive cock. Swallowing dryly, you watch as Ben gives your cock one final long slow lick, the action earning him a few breathless whimpers. Standing up right you study him, the way his messy hair laid on top of his head, the way his facial hair comes in patchy and is colored almost as if with salt and pepper, but one of the many things you liked about Ben was his aquiline nose, and the way it was constantly bumping your cock while he was paying attention to your entrance.

With your brain still foggy from the orgasm, you turn to face the wall, hands bracing yourself for what was about to happen. Looking over your shoulder, you put on your best puppy face, “Mr. Ben sir,” You bite your lip, pressing your ass to the noticeable tent in his khakis. This time you were the one rewarded with beautiful sounds. Though they weren’t whimpers. They were the next best thing, groans and growl like sounds. “I need help with something. Do you think you can help me?” As the question fell from your lips you slowly grinded against him. 

Feeling Ben grab your hips harshly caused a gasp to escape your lips, before pressing himself to you harder. Feeling him let go of you with one hand, you go to look to see what he has planned. The sound of a zipper giving it away. It didn’t take long before you felt the head of Ben’s cock rubbing your own before sliding his length to your needy hole.

“I think I can actually help you with that. The real question is,” Feeling his clothed chest press into your back, his hushed tone causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin, “Do you think you can stay quiet? I’d hate for us to get found.” Feeling heat spreads across your face and your brain begins to swim, all you can do is nod. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you were using your words earlier. What happened to that pretty voice of yours now?” Trying to process the question just presented to you, you push yourself off the wall slightly. Looking over your shoulder, a quizzical look on your face, you saw Ben’s. A smirk, one that spelled trouble for you. Before you had a chance to ask him anything, you felt him bury himself in you in one fluid snap of the hips. The action causes your jaw to go lax as a silent scream is forced out of your body. 

As Ben continued to fuck you up against the wall, he was quick to wrap his warm lithe fingers around your neck. As a sound behinds to bubble from your chest, Ben squeezes just hard enough that it causes you to hiccup in the middle of your exhale. The smirk on Ben’s face growing more playfully, but you could still see his lust blown pupils. Loosening the squeeze just enough to feel the blood come flooding back to your brain, causing your brain to grow foggy and spacey. And unbeknownst to you, that feeling of your head floating and the rhythm and speed of Ben’s hips snapping into you, was enough to topple you over the edge. 

“Oh you look so pretty cumming on my cock like that.” You feel the hand around your neck slide up your face just enough for his fingers to set over your lips. Without even needing to be told, you opened your mouth. Feeling his fingers slip into your mouth, you couldn’t help but run your tongue over Ben’s fingers. “Fuck…I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum puppy?” You could feel Ben losing his rhythm, but the speed never changed once.

“Mouth.” The word being distorted by his fingers. It was obvious that Ben liked your idea based on the way his cock twitched inside of you. Pulling out, you can’t help but let the soft whimper leave you, at the emptiness. Your sorrow was short lived because in what felt like a blink of an eye, you felt Ben turn you to face him and then gently persuade you to your knees with a gentle push.

On your knees you look up to Ben as he strokes himself. Opening your mouth, you allow your tongue to lull out of your mouth; the simple action causing Ben to groan. As you close your eyes you feel Ben grab a handful of your hair before guiding his cock into your mouth. Moaning at the taste of yourself on him you reached and gently cupped his balls, taking him further into your mouth. Bobbing your head you can feel Ben twitch against your tongue, the feeling spurring you to relax your throat and swallow around him. 

“F-Fuck, puppy I-I’m going to-” Ben’s words being cut off by a growl like groan vibrating his entire chest. You felt him grip a handful of your hair and hold you in place while he came -quite literally- down your throat. Squeezing your eyes shut, you focused on remaining relaxed so as to not start gagging around Ben. As Ben pulled out you couldn’t stop the one single gag that escaped. With his cock out of your mouth, you took sharp ragged breaths in. Tucking his cock back into his boxers, he makes quick work of fixing his pants. Squatting in front of you, Ben tucks a few strands of sweat slicked hair from your forehead. “You okay? I-I wasn’t too rough was I? I didn’t hurt you did I?” You could hear the worry lacing Ben’s words. Shaking your head, you reach up and plant a hand on his chest.

“You didn’t hurt me. I would have stopped if you did.” Your voice hoarse from its rough treatment. Your words helped soothe him only a bit. “I’ll be fine. Honest. All I need is some water and maybe a cough drop or two.” You nudged him playfully, earning a soft chuckle from the older man. 

“Okay, I’ll believe you.” Standing up, Ben offered you a hand and you happily took it. Standing up, you felt Ben pull you into his chest almost instantly. The feeling of the tug causing you to gasp softly. “We should do this again, though let me take you to dinner first.” His words finished with a soft chuckle. 

“Mr. Ben, are you asking one of your student’s parents on a date?” You playfully joke. You wiggle from his grasp so that you can redress your lower half.

“I most certainly am.” You can hear the playfully tone in his voice. “So what do you say? Is it a date?” Looking over at him, you can see a faint blush spread across his tanned face. Buttoning your pants, you reach up to his face. Holding his heated face in your hands, staring into his dark chocolate colored eyes through his black framed glasses, you smile softly.

“It’s a date.” Pulling his face to yours you press your lips to his gently. The kiss short lived at the sound of voices growing louder just before the door swung open. 

“What did Margaret need for Koch’s Deep Time exhib-” The woman's voice stopping as soon as she looked at the two of you. “Excuse me, what are you doing back here? This is a restricted area.” The taller of the two women reaching for the microphone clipped to her folded collar. 

“I told you that this wasn’t the way to the bathroom love.” Ben nudges you. For a moment you’re confused, but then it clicks.

“O-Oh! I told you I wasn’t any good at reading these maps babe.” You grab Ben’s hand and gently pull him along. You look at the two women. “Sorry about this, it was my mistake.” Walking past the two of them you push open the doors and step back into the loud main gallery of the museum. The voices substantially louder than they were only moments ago. 

Looking around, you search for your daughter and her class among the swarms of people. When your eyes landed on the assistant teacher and the class, you sighed softly. With Ben’s hand still in yours, you snake the two of you between bodies. Once closer to the group you gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go of his hand.

“Dad, where were you? And why is Mr. Ben's face all red? AND why is staring over here at us?” You look down at your daughter before looking over to Mr. Ben who, in fact, is staring at you.

“I ran off to the bathroom and bumped into your teacher while going in.” Hearing the museum’s tour guide speak up you nudge your daughter -Dahlia- as a way to say ‘pay attention’.  Your eyes slipping back to Ben, the words said earlier echoing in your head. “It’s a date”

credit: @inklore

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[bookishcatcafe]

Goetian Skating (a Stolitz Winter One Shot)

“It’s so fucking cold out! Ffff fuck!” Blitz exclaimed as he shivered in the sidewalk. Stolas wore a blue beret, light lavender scarf, a deep purple overcoat, and tan leggings. He had short heels on, his makeup was subtle but fitting with his natural coat— deep purple eyeshadow, black mascara, and deep red lipstick on his black beak.

Blitz wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and a beanie which also covered his horns. Stolas put a hand over his shoulder, bringing him close, before putting his scarf off his neck and onto Blitz’s. “Does this help?” Stolas asked.

Blitz wiggles as he adjusted the scarf, walking with Stolas by his side, shrugging lightly before replying, “Kinda. Still cold as Lucifer’s balls.”

Stolas giggled and waved away at Blitz, a sign of enjoyment. “You’re so silly, dear.” He sniffed the air and looked toward the end of the street, on the corner was a small cart, with a sign that read ‘warm coffee, cocoa, and more. 3$.’

Stolas’s eyes widened and he hooted. “Oh! Blitzy!” He paused and fixed his slip-up. “Blitz! Let’s get something warm to drink.”

Blitz noticed his correction, rubbing Stolas’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. It took him a while to get over him calling him Blitzy, having reminded him of the beginning of their relationship.

Despite the moments that struck him. The night at Ozzie’s. The full moon. Going back to the carnival. Ending up chasing Stolas to the train from Pride. That night had rained hard, and him calling for his Stolas, defying the odds not just of the other Goetians but also of being born an imp—their love shone past any darkened night.

He still remembered that kiss. It felt like a short while since that happened, as if he could still feel the rain drops on his horns. Blitz held his hand out to feel the rain, only to feel snow trickling down in slow waltzes. He blinked to see Stolas standing over him. They were feet away from the drink stand, his boyfriend was staring at his face, his eyes narrowed and mouth clenched: concerned.

“Blitz? Are you okay?” Stolas asked.

“I…yeah. I’m okay. I’m fuckin okay.” He smiled in reassurance, squeezing Stoles’s shoulder before giving him a peck on the lips. “Just was lost in thought.” Blitz pointed to the stand and smiles.

Stolas nods, slowly smiling back, shivering gently. “Let’s get something to drink. Then maybe we could go ice skating?” He asked as he pointed to the rink that was past the stand, its entrance on the right of the corner, an imp standing there by the ticket booth.

Blitz gulps and nods. “Sure thing. We can do that.”

The barista smiled and greeted the pair. “Happy Sinsmas! May I offer you a complimentary peppermint bark?” She points to a small metal tray which had a stack of thin squares of dark chocolate covered in shredded peppermint. Stolas hooted happily, clapping his hands together as he nods, grabbing two pieces: one for himself and one for Blitz.

Blitz sniffs it and eats it quickly, Stolas on the other hand ate it in two small bites. The mint was both soothing and a sharp, yet pleasant cleanliness to it.

‘Like chocolate toothpaste.’ Blitz noted mentally.

“Mmm. Delicious!” Stolas exclaimed. He eyed at the menu, his finger floating around at the options. Blitz found his little habits so cute, and awfully gay, but then again he’s gay too. Albeit, Stolas fit a lot of stereotypes, not that Blitz complained.

“I’ll have a peppermint mocha, with white chocolate though if you have it!” Stolas said excitedly.

Blitz eyed the menu. “Just a coffee.”

Stolas looked at him. “Comeon dear, don’t you wanna have a cocoa? I bet you’d like it.”

Blitz looked back, pausing, before sighing with a smirk. “Fine. I’ll get a cocoa.”

Stolas paid the barista, who smiled as she began working on their drinks. While she worked on the pair’s drinks, Stolas was rubbing Blitz’s back. He lowered his hand down to hold Blitz’s left hand, which after slight hesitation, the imp held back.

“Have a happy Sinsmas!” The barista interrupted as she held out two drinks. Blitz gave Stolas his and kept his own. With a free hand, they waved goodbye before walking toward the skate rink entrance.

Stolas sipped and let out a moan, which caused Blitz to smirk and take a sip of his own drink, groaning and moaning back, partly to mock him but also in genuine interest of the cocoa.

Stolas blushed hard as he covered his lips. “Stahpp. You’re embarrassing me.” He giggled and hooted before sipping again. With his magic he levitated a few dollars to the ticket booth man as they walked past the gate. He nodded back at them and smiled, thanking them.

Stolas sat down on the bench, taking off his heels, while with his levitation magic continued to sip on his mint mocha. Blitz followed and sat beside him on the other side of the bench, holding his drink with his tail. He began to take off his boots and put on his skates, pulling hard as he struggled a bit with the skate.

Stolas leaned down and helped push the first boot onto Blitz’s foot, tying his skate’s laces. Blitz felt into his sweater pocket, fingering at the small box at the bottom of the pocket. Meanwhile, Stolas switched to the other boot and finished tying it.

Stolas looked up at Blitz, tapping the top of his skate boot and giggling.

“Ready, hun?” He asked, standing tall over his boyfriend and offering a hand to Blitz to hold. Blitz nodded and held his hand, beginning to walk over to the beginning of the ice rink, every step unbalanced and wiggling. Stolas hooted and wiggled too as he walked, until the crack of the ice could be heard in every new step.

Soon they were in the middle of the rink, which was empty for the early morning. Stolas began to skate around Blitz, his line uneven and slow. Blitz caught Stolas as he had lined toward him, his arms aching with the sudden weight of his bigger partner.

“You ever ice skate before?” Blitz asked

“Not since I was a child. I’m not really good.” Stolas replied, his voice in his high cheery tone despite his face in a slight half-frown, his beak pointing down. Blitz held his cheek in his hand and rubbed his chin with a thumb.

“Hey. It’s okay. You’re doing good.” Blitz reassured him, before giving him a peck on the cheek.

Stolas began to smile before pecking back.

“How about you? Could…you skate for me? Please.” Stolas held his hands together, begging, as he rubbed a idle hand on his own chest.

Blitz huffed in the chilly air and smirked, skating away from Stolas before skating swiftly toward him. Stolas’s eyes suddenly flashed and he held a hand to his mouth, the imp skating past him and going into a twirl around Stolas, before suddenly grabbing his hand and skating with Stolas trailed behind him.

The owl gasped and hooted loudly in shock as he was following Blitz, who moved the owl’s hands to hold his hips as they skated around. He felt he could fall any moment, but even if his legs felt wobbly, he felt a sense of safety being in the surprise expertise of Blitz’s skating abilities.

The air felt light as they skated, snowflakes gently drifting around as they continued. Blitz felt like the king of the world, guiding Stolas like this, a small imp as himself just showing off while providing him with something exciting.

He felt a lump in his chest when he heard a thunk against the ice, his sweater feeling slightly lighter, the black box lay on the ice, gently stained white with snow. Blitz huffed as he stopped skating suddenly, Stolas eyeing at the box, seeing it fall out so quickly.

Blitz was huffing as he tried to find the words. Stolas quiet as he stopped behind him, slipping and falling to his knees on the ice, the momentum sending him down. Blitz turned back and held Stolas’s hand, while Stolas used his magic to bring the box toward them.

“Stolas—I.” Blitz began, his voice cracking as the lump in his throat fell past his Adam’s apple. He didn’t want this to happen this way. He had a plan. He PLANNED this.

Stolas rubbed Blitz’s fingers as he gave him the box. His face was flushed with blush, under his eyes tears formed and snowflakes subtly painted his feathers. Despite the cold making his eyes ache with every new tear formed, he looked beautiful. He was silent too, except for a little nod.

Blitz adjusted himself, feeling the cold stab his knee as he opened the box, revealing a shimmering silver ring, adorned on top with a diamond that glimmered with subtle hints of purples and reds.

“Stolas. We’ve gone through some fucking horrible times together—I mean. We’ve just gone through so much. Together. We grew despite them. What I’m trying to ask…Stolas…I don’t think I can imagine Hell without you. Will you be my prince?” He held out the open box, Stolas just was quiet and nodding.

Blitz put the ring onto Stolas’s finger, and felt a force push him into Stolas, kissing him deeply, a warmth growing from in his chest. In the kiss he felt like he could imagine the rest of his life, in that minute motionless moment, all starting over with their embrace, like it began before with their fingers, overlapped as water rolls over in the rippling waves.