#i know jean is a big personality and anyone put up against him will feel like stale bread but kevin and renee and neil held their own

[dayurno]

one thing though that i thought was very interesting in tsc was how jeremy and kevin swapped some key personality traits the fanon associated with them. kevin being a grounded, stable pilar vs jeremy being (though well-intentioned & kindly) pushy and falling into codependency with jean like many of us assumed would be the inevitable outcome of kevin and jean reconciling. quite surprising!

[plutowon]

[out of your league]

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst, vent, comfort post

warnings: insecurity, body dysmorphia, depression, feelings of worthlessness, wanting to disappear, very graphic depictions of eating disorders (ednos) please do not read this if you are recovering from an eating disorder, internalized fatphobia, questioning reality to a certain extent

synopsis: your perfect boyfriend couldn’t possibly think you’re even slightly attractive, could he ?

2.2k words

꒪ □ ◌⠀۰ ⠀۰ ⏜⃞☁️⠀⊹⠀ ָ࣪ ⠀• ❒

you assume everybody views you the same way.

ugly, to put it very bluntly.

you assume when people see you on the street they feel a wave of sympathy wash over them. when people meet you, they don’t meet you, they meet pity to a new extent. suddenly, they meet pity on a very very personal level.

such a shame, your face, your body as well.

you’re not even given the comfort and contentment of being average. for you, you are very much below average. not even something to settle for you are simply unwanted, another’s worse nightmare.

you assume everyone sees you like this because thats how you see you.

you feel like a pig. you can feel every inch of space you take up in the world, space you’re very much undeserving of. you can feel the fat on your thigh bounce as it absorbs the shock of your movements, you can feel it in your stomach as well. you hate the way it feels when you wear jeans. the denim squeezes against your fat and your legs are itching to burst out, as if they’re saying “you know we’re too big for this, let us out or lose the weight!”. and even when you are so sure you’re eating in a deficit, the fact that you’re eating at all means you’re not trying enough.

you’ve spent countless months crying. you’ve been stagnant for about a year. you lose and gain the same five to ten pounds. it seems to cling to you like a toxic friend, like a parasite feeding off of you, it’s making you sick. you can’t seem to lose weight, which is laughable, really. that’s the one thing you should be good at, isn’t that what an eating disorder is ? perhaps you’re not trying hard enough. perhaps you’re not sick.

and no one seems to notice your struggles. your friends haven’t even noticed. and you can tell, the way they say nothing when you eat nothing around them, when you constantly deny their offers for food because you mostly give in and eat a couple of fries anyways, despite attempting a thirty-six hour fast. you give up like you always do. even when you’re too obvious, when you mention the calories in a product, when you make a small joke about losing weight, they simply laugh it off, even telling you that losing a couple of pounds couldn’t hurt. you can’t expect them to notice you’re sick when you’re basically not. you feel lost, you feel stuck, you feel like you’re running out of time but you don’t try any harder.

at this rate, you’ll never be able to fix yourself. you’ll be stuck in this never-ending purgatory for the rest of your pathetic life as people look at you wondering how something like you could’ve crawled out of the ground and have the gall to pass yourself off as human.

your family is struggling because of your weight. because you’re eating everything in site like a raccoon trying to survive. your boyfriend is probably gonna start pulling away from you because how could he be seen with you ? i mean, you’re bigger than him and he’s one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters tall—are you not embarrassed ? you feel bad for him because he has to lug around his big girlfriend that all his skinny friends probably make fun of when you’re not around. you’re sure your friends feel bad for you—everybody does. you’re sure that they comment on your selfies to make you feel better. that they call you pretty because they know if they don’t, nobody else will. they’re just being nice. that’s the only reason you’re worth talking to,

out of pity.

how could anyone ever love you ?

how could anyone truly enjoy your company ? and your lack of eye candy isn’t even made up for in personality. you’re annoying, you’re loud, and your jokes fall flat on their face like a four year old learning to bike without training wheels for the first time. you’re nothing of value, nothing people seek out or look forward to.

this is just the way things are.

until you get your act together, you’ll simply be stuck like this. pathetic, and gross, and subhuman.

you assume eveyone sees you this way.

and when you’re with your boyfriend sunghoon, laying down in his bed while he changed his top to a simple hoodie to cuddle you in, you don’t think twice about what you say.

“sometimes i don’t understand why you’re my boyfriend. like, you’re so pretty and out of my league you could get any girl you want but you settled for me”

you laugh because it’s funny. your situation is a bit silly, is it not ? and you expect sunghoon to laugh along, tell you you’re an amazing girlfriend and you dont need to be pretty, but he looks at you in shock, almost angry. he doesn’t even know how to formulate words because he simply can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, and what’s even more unbelievable is how calmly you’ve said them, this egregious belief of yours. it makes his blood run cold. it’s appalling how you think what you’ve said is okay, and what’s most terrifying is you expect him to agree with you.

“…what?” you ask when you realize your laughter isn’t kissing his. you don’t understand how he doesn’t find it all as humorous as you do.

“what the hell are you talking about?” he looks at you mortified. he runs up beside you on the bed and you sit up and look at him confused.

“how could you say that…?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes are tearing up and you don’t know how, but you can sense you’ve fucked up.

“…well, i mean, everybody thinks it, so-”

“what? who told you that…nobody thinks this- who told you this? was it a friend? was it that dickhead at work? i swear i’ll fuck him up-”

“nobody had to tell me, sunghoon, it’s just common knowledge…i’m not exactly pretty”

sunghoon feels like crying.

how could you say something like this? how could you say you’re not pretty? objectively, you’re a very attractive person. you’re very very beautiful. so beautiful, sunghoon was almost convinced you were a long lost princess. he even made up a storyline where perhaps you had run away from your home somewhere in a european kingdom to get away from the hustle and bustle of the royal life that you had decided wasn’t made for you and ended up here in his.

he feels like crying so he does.

“what- i don’t-” he says it in between his tears as he tries to gather his bearings.

“is this why you don’t wanna go out for dates anymore…and why you’ve been eating less…?”

you’re shocked, to say the least. you had been avoiding been seen in public in general, but especially with your perfect boyfriend knowing people would be embarrassed for him. you didn’t think he would notice though, and you especially didn’t think he would notice you eating less.

“…what are you talking about?”

“i’m not dumb, y/n. you started eating less and all of a sudden you loss like twenty pounds in a month i noticed it last year, but jungwon told me not to say anything because that could make it worse. he told me to just watch you”

you don’t know how to feel.

a myriad of emotions falls over you, but one shows it’s face in the crowd more clearly than the others.

embarrassment.

how embarrassing this is, for your boyfriend to have noticed your eating disorder meant he also noticed you not losing any more weight. he noticed your failure before anyone else.

you want to deny him. you want to tell him he’s wrong, but the look in his eye is not one of question. he’s not looking at you for confirmation, he’s looking at you because he’s pieced everything together and he knows you know that.

you begin to cry. how dare you? inconvenience him like this. not only are you his ugly pigglet girlfriend, you’ve made your failure of an eating disorder his problem? how dare you?

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would notice”

sunghoon is even more shocked now. your words have stricken his core in such a bone-chilling way, worse than anything hes ever felt before.

“why the hell are you apologizing to me?”

“because it’s bothering you-”

“NO no, don’t even think like that”

he sniffles and wipes his tears before holding your hand tightly and pulling it towards himself

“you are never an inconvenience to me, okay? i love you so much. and i love you because you are you. not because you were available, and not because no one else was. i don’t love you because it’s convenient or because i have to, i love you because i want to. because my heart aches and pounds for you on it’s own. you’re my beautiful little angel—how could you ever even think i would find you anything less than gorgeous and heavensent?”

you want to believe him, you do. and you almost believe him cause his eyes are boring into yours with such a bold intensity, laced with devotion and desperation, but it doesn’t make sense.

because how could he see you like this? you’re jaw dropping heartthrob boyfriend that’s out of your league? the most average of people would never see you like this, so why would he?

“i wish you could see yourself through everyone else’s eyes, because my love, you are amazing”

what is he even saying? everyone’s eyes? last you checked,

“everyone would think i’m hideous”

he looks at you with aching pain, like you’ve taken the sharpest spear to his chest and you’re killing him, slowly and painfully.

“no baby, that’s not true. why would you say that? you’re genuinely so beautiful everyone thinks that i don’t understand why you see yourself so negatively. nobody thinks you’re ugly”

had it truly all been in your head? of course not. no, this is how it’s always been you’ve always been below average.

“you know when we first started talking, my friends laughed and said i was too much of a loser to pull someone like you” sunghoon laughs at the fond memory of his drop dead gorgeous crush smiling at him and his asshole friends punching him, telling him to lower his bar a little bit.

“if anything, you’re out of my league” you’re aggressively wiping your eyes as an excuse to not listen to these fabricated fibs he’s telling you.

“listen, we’re gonna go at your pace and i won’t push you or force anything on you, but we’re gonna start slow, okay? you’re so much more than just how much you eat or how much you don’t eat. no matter what, i’ll still be head over heels for you. you’ll always be my princess”

kissing the back of your hand and holding it to him like he’s scared you’ll wither away. scared you’ll leave him here all alone with nothing but the stardust that once danced around that pretty head of yours that just coats the floor now that you’re gone.

“you’re amazing. i know it’s not easy, and it’s so hard for you to see yourself for all that you are, but i’m here, baby. i’ll always be here”

as you sob into the sleeves of your hoodie, sunghoon pulls your hands away from your face and pulls you to fall into his arms, his warm embrace and his hipnotizing kisses.

you’re not sure if you believe him, that you really are beautiful to him and to everyone else, but you know that you want to.

and you know that you’re tired.

you’ve been chasing this perfection that doesn’t even exist for so so so long and your legs are tired. they’re aching and so is your heart. you’ve tried so hard to please yourself because you’re so certain you’re not enough for the world when you have always been more than enough. you realize that you’re wasting your life away. wasting time away just for beauty. for control. for something to hold on to when everything falls. when you’re insecure about everything, there’s always one thing that can be “fixed”.

you are running away from yourself. you’re trying so hard to be somebody different. you’ve tried everything to be happy except turn to yourself, take your hand and embrace yourself. come to terms with yourself. you’ve ran all your life but you’ve never thought to turn around and face yourself,

and you don’t know if you’re ready for that.

and sunghoon knows that. that it’s comforting to keep running. but now that the seed’s been planted in your brain and he can see the cogs turning and stopping on a cycle, he’s certain that one day, you will be able to stop running and turn around and holding yourself and welcome yourself with open arms.

but for now, sunghoon will run with his hand in yours to make sure you dont trip and fall.

“it’s okay to not be ready. we’ll take our time”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Rooftop Date | Seo Changbin

-> Pairing: Seo Changbin x GF!Reader

-> Request: No. I wasn't going to post again today but it's Changbin and he's my SKZ bias so why not?

-> Synopsis: Changbin surprises reader with a rooftop date

-> Warnings: None

-> Word Count: 465

-> Requests: Closed. I will make a post when they are open again.

Changbin Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 

‘Meet me on the roof,’ Is the cryptic message Y/N receives from her boyfriend. Confused and overly curious, she leaves the apartment she shares with Changbin.  

Trying to picture what Changbin has called her to the roof for, she’s surprised when it isn’t anything she imagined. In the middle of the rooftop courtyard, is a table set up with candles and rose petals and two gift boxes. Seeing the gift boxes, she feels bad that she left his gift back in their apartment. It still laid unwrapped in her closet. A string of lights that frames the roof top patio were on, giving it some more light than the moon and surrounding buildings brought. There’s a tabletop gas stove sitting on another table and a bag of food next to it waiting to be cooked up.   

“Binnie?” she calls his name looking for him. He’s the only thing missing from this picturesque moment.   

“I’m here,” he says from behind her. She turns around seeing him standing at the top of the steps that she just climbed, holding a bag. He’s dressed up in a nice shirt and jeans. “Do you like it?” he asks, moving to put the bag on the table before gathering her up in his arms.   

“Did you plan all this for us?” She asks, pleasantly surprised by the effort he put in to surprising her. Especially the keeping it a surprise part. Changbin can be a good secret keeper. But Y/N is the person he tells everything too, no matter how big or small it is. There are no secrets between the two of them. 

“I wanted us to have our own little anniversary celebration before I get busy with tour and schedules again,” he puffs out his chest as he looks proud of himself. Their anniversary is in a week and he will be in Japan during it, so he wanted to do something before he leaves instead of trying to figure out when and where to do it after their anniversary. His face falters a little as he notices she looks like she’s about to cry. He wraps her up in his strong arms, hugging her tightly. “Baby, don’t cry.”  

“But I’m so happy that I can’t express it with words,” she pouts against his shoulder. “What did I do to deserve such a beautiful, wonderful, loving, caring and thoughtful boyfriend?”   

“I don’t know but I’m glad you did it because I can’t imagine myself with anyone else,” he smiles, pulling away enough to look at her. His hands move to her cheeks, and he presses his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’m sorry we don’t get to spend our anniversary together.”  

“I am too,” she says, pecking his lips. “But this definitely makes up for it.”  

Changbin Tag List: @staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups -

@tinyelfperson - @laylasbunbunny - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @oddracha -

@kayleefriedchicken - @everythingboutkpop - @kpopsstuffs - @beefcakebarnes - @summergirlsmj -

@katsukis1wife - @armystay89 -

Unable to tag (at all or properly - please let me know if you get the notification or not): @instabull

[trybeforeyoudeny]

It all happened so fast.

Eddie had been checking him out from across the bar and before he knew what was happening he was being pressed against the bathroom stall door, hot kisses being pressed into his neck.

He had been six, maybe seven shots deep, but even through blurry eyes he could tell that this man is the most beautiful person he's ever laid his cynical eyes on.

"W-wait, slow down," Eddie moans out, looking down at the man whose now on his knees in front of him, one hand trailing underneath his shirt while the other dips below the top of his jeans, fingers toying with his boxers. He's looking at him with desperation, like he wants to worship him. Devour him.

"What's wrong?" The man pouts, and oh. That damn mouth. Those lips. Eddie curses under his breath.

"What's your name?" Eddie can't continue without having a name to moan.

"Steve," the man chuckles, leaving a wet, sloppy kiss on Eddie's hip. "Steve Harrington."

Eddie freezes.

"Harrington?" The disbelief is evident in his voice and he immediately feels himself sobering up. This cannot be happening.

Steve must sense the shift in the atmosphere because he leans back, looking up at him with confusion. Suddenly his eyes begin to widen as he stares into Eddie's, everything clicking together.

"Eddie-" he breathes out his name softly, not moving from his spot on the floor, not removing his hands from his body.

"I... I should go," Eddie begins to panic, trying to back away but realizing very quickly that he's cornered in the small stall.

"Wait-" Steve stands up, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. "Why are you trying to leave?"

He's taken aback, to say the least. He figured as soon as Steve realized it was him he'd run out of the bathroom faster than they had gotten here. Hell- he's still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Steve Harrington is even here at this gay bar to begin with.

"Because you're you and I'm... well, I'm me," he lets out a self-deprecating laugh but Steve only frowns and brushes Eddie's hair away from his face and begins peppering kisses along his jaw, eliciting a feral noise out of Eddie.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Steve mumbles with his lips still pressed greedily into Eddie's skin.

"God. Please don't," Eddie pleads, every ounce of dignity leaving his body at once.

"You know," Steve bites the sensitive flesh behind Eddie's ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine. "I always had a thing for you back in high school."

Just like that Eddie feels his blood run cold and his body heat up in one fell swoop. "W-what?" He gasps, unable to grasp what he's hearing. Steve the hair Harrington liked him?! And he never noticed?!

"Well, duh," Steve laughs softly. He's made his way back down to his knees, looking up at him with big doe eyes practically begging to take off his pants, and who is Eddie to deny the king of what he wants?

"Go ahead, big boy."

Steve fucking whimpers at that and begins to expertly undo his belt as he continues talking. "How could I not have a thing for you? You were so badass and outspoken. You never let anyone bring you down. I wanted to be like you." He finished the sentence with a happy little noise as he pulls down Eddie's jeans and boxers, freeing Eddie's cock and putting it in full display.

"Trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't have wanted to be me back then," he inhales sharply as Steve bobs his head down his full length without warning. Jesus, this guy knows what he's doing. He's never had anyone take him so well. Steve's got him quivering like a fucking virgin and he has to stick his arms straight out, pressing against the wall opposite of him to keep himself from collapsing.

"Hmm," Steve hums with Eddie's tip pressed to his lips, the vibration driving him even further into madness. "That may be true, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing. Doodling hearts in my notebooks with our initials. Imagining your hand replacing mine when I pleasured myself late at night," he continues to spew filthy words at him but Eddie nearly comes undone at just the mere thought of pretty boy Stevie writing his name in the margins on his pages, twirling his hair and biting the end of his pencil.

"Fuck, Steve I'm close," he brings one hand down to run his fingers through Steve's infamous hair, gripping it firmly before letting go of the last thread of restraint he had been holding onto.

“Your turn, Harrington,” Eddie slides his fingers through Steve’s belt loops, pulling him back to his feet.

“Nuh-uh,” Steve presses a hand firmly into his chest, abruptly stopping him before he can drop to his knees. “How about you take me to dinner first?” He cracks a wide smile and Eddie feels his heart skip a beat.

“It’s a date.”

[ericsprincess]

feel it, a sigh in the rythm

Jung Wooyoung/Reader, nc-17, strangers-to-lovers, fingering, penetrative sex,

~~~

You pick up a stranger in a club.

~~~

2023, hot summer night, probably somewhere in Sao Paulo

~~~

"I think I'm gonna die," you wheeze, and snatch the cold drink straight from your bartender's hand, before he can even put it in front of you at the bar. It almost slips, condensation already forming on the glass surface, but you can't wait and take a few big gulps, too big for something served in a highball. The bartender rolls his eyes and turns away to wipe the counter, clearly judging your life choices. But you can't even care. Tonight, the summer air is too hot and humid and it's even worse inside of the club - the air is stale and barely breathable, smelling of alcohol and sweaty bodies, but that's exactly why you're here today. 

You chug the rest of your drink and smash the glass back on the counter. You are already starting to feel the alcohol so you wipe the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand and push yourself off the counter heading off to the dancefloor. It’s already full of dancing people and you let yourself get swallowed by the mass of hot bodies and you just dance with your eyes closed, enjoying the loud music and blinking lights. 

You are alone and dancing just for yourself, not with anyone else, but now there is enough alcohol in your bloodstream to prevent you from startling when you suddenly feel hands on your hips and warm body pressed against your back. All your normal senses and alerts are dulled, and lured by the daring touch and a scent of nice cologne, you lean back into the person whose arms you’re in, dancing, or more like just swaying to the rhythm along with you. You don’t feel like looking back at the man, not yet, in case he’s ugly or not to your taste - you want to keep the illusion at least for a little bit before you inevitably end up disappointed. 

Your bodies move to the sound of music together and he lets his hands roam over your body, slowly touching over your waist and belly, daring to dip his fingertips just a little bit under the waist of your jeans, just to tease you or provoke you. You rest one of your hands on top of his and the other on his hip, prompting him to get even closer and he doesn’t hesitate. 

He lets his face rest in the crook of your neck, not kissing or biting you, just lets his lips linger in gentle contact with your sweaty skin. You can feel him getting hard against your ass and you know you’re wet from all the touching too. The situation is getting too hot for your horny drunk brain and you need to decide now - and for that you need to see his face, so you can only bite the bullet and take a swift spin in his arms and - wow. He’s really handsome. Black, longish hair parted in the middle, falling in strands framing his face, either sweaty or probably rather greasy. Big eyes, hook nose and high cheekbones with wide jawline. Dressed only in ripped black jeans and patterned black and white shirt, unbuttoned almost down his entire chest, showing his tanned skin, glistening with sweat. He’s really hot and you are not letting him go. 

You grab him by the neck and give him a cursory second to reject you just in case, and then you’re smashing your mouths together, not wasting a moment to push your tongue in his mouth. He lets you and grabs you closer by your waist and you’re barely dancing anymore, just standing and making out, touching him wherever your hands can reach and him doing the same. 

You’re standing flush against each other and you try to sneak a hand under his shirt to touch his belly while he’s doing the same on your back, both feeling the other’s hot sweaty skin as you kiss. He’s so hot, not only his face and body, but he also smells good and tastes good, even though you mostly taste alcohol. You like his tongue licking into your mouth too, it’s too dirty and shameless and it should feel disgusting, to have another drunk stranger kiss you so sloppily like that, but it somewhat isn’t, rather the opposite - you feel so light and relaxed but strung up at the same time. 

Everything, even his body temperature is hot, he feels like his skin is on fire to you, but also, you feel like you’re on fire yourself. It’s like you don’t know where to touch first or what to do with yourself, but you can tell for sure you’re getting wet and horny and you definitely want to do something about it. Preferably with him. 

You need to escalate, you need to let him know that you don’t want to let the night end at just a makeout session, however nice it is, so you slide your hand from under his shirt downwards, relying on how pressed against each other your bodies are and no one can see, and find his cock so you can grab it. You already knew he was hard from how he was rubbing against your thigh, but it’s different to know and to know. You touch along it, feeling around, mindlessly checking out his size and girth over his pants. You’re not really trying to stimulate him any further, you can’t do that very well over pants, rather enjoying the touching for the sake of itself. It makes you think how odd, but erotic is to get to know a complete stranger so intimately. You don’t even know his name, yet you are already familiar with how his cock feels in your hand. 

He seems to get the hint and grabs your hand, pulling you off the dancefloor, through the mass of dancing people and flashing lights, looking back every few seconds as if to make sure you’re still with him even though he’s holding your hand. He leads you out of the club and the moment you step on the street you feel the night breeze cooling a little the warmth of the summer night. 

You turn to him. “Mine or yours?” you ask. 

He stops in his step for a second and briefly looks around. “Here.” he replies, pulling you into a back alley next to the club, pressing you against the wall right behind the dumpsters. You’re mostly hidden from any passers-by, but it’s still so public and quite undignified. Which only speaks about how horny you are, because despite all of that, all you can think is how great an idea it is, since now you won’t have to wait until you get home.

He kisses you again, leaning on the cold wall with one hand and with the other one trying to unbutton your pants. The moment he succeeds he forces his hand right into your panties. You’re disgustingly wet, your panties are completely soaked and you feel him smile into the kiss. 

“Nice,” he whispers as he rubs along your folds, spreads the slick more so everything is even more wet and sticky, pressing in, until he finds you clit and starts circling it with his fingers. 

He’s doing it without any hesitation, as if it were something he’s done a million times, and maybe he did, maybe he picks up a new girl every night - you have no way of knowing. But it doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters now is how good he is at quickly figuring out how much pressure he should apply, what tempo he should use. And he does all that while kissing you and sucking on your neck, completely ignoring his own erection that’s pressing into your thigh. 

It doesn’t take you long - you’re relaxed from the alcohol, you have been aroused for a long time already and he’s hot. You have barely time to grasp his shoulder, bring him even closer and remind yourself to be silent as you’re coming, burying your face into the crook of his neck to muffle any sounds. 

HIs fingers slow down, letting you ride out your orgasm, but the moment he hears your breath slow down, he pulls out his hand out of your pants and quickly flips you so you’re facing the wall, pressed in, only instinctively putting your hands up between the wall and your face so you don't get scratched. 

You haven’t quite gotten ahold of yourself yet and you’re already scrambling to find balance as you can hear him fumbling with his belt and a zipper. Once he has this out of the way, he pulls down your pants and underwear, just barely under your ass. 

“Can I?” he breathes out impatiently.

“Yeah, but..condom?” you answer, mildly confused. 

“No need,” he replies, already pushing in and you don’t have any time to protest or even think about it because from then on it’s just a whirlwind of getting your brains thoroughly fucked out. He doesn’t bother starting slow, he’s fucking you hard and fast from the beginning - no wonder, since he must have been hard for a long time and he clearly can’t stand it anymore. 

He’s holding you by your hips, keeping you firmly wedged between him and the wall so you can’t do anything else. Just hold on for your dear life and listen to his heavy breathing in your ear and the disgusting slapping sound resonating in the back alley you’re hiding in. 

You can tell he’s close by how quickly he’s losing the rhythm and soon he’s thrusting so deep into you, letting out one single “Ah..” and he grinds deep, filling you with his cum. 

He lets himself enjoy the moment for a second and he kisses the nape of your neck as he pulls out. You both quickly pull up your pants, you wincing at the mess you have to ignore for now and deal with later. 

IYou’ve sobered up a bit and you feel kinda awkward now. Not because of him, but - right behind dumpsters? Really, Y/N? you scold yourself. Like an animal. Or worse - a teenager. Probably broke some laws too, jesus. 

Thankfully, he interrupts your thoughts. He pulls at your belt loop to get your attention. 

"I would ask you for your number but I liked this a lot, so… Same time next week?" he tilts his head smiling, waiting for your reply. 

“I’ll be there.” you throw all the worries away and smile back. 

~~~

A/N: You meet up with him four more times to fuck, and then he catches feelings and takes you home, but “home” is actually an old rusty smelly van where he lives with his bro.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

connected ch 7

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, maybe a tiny little splash of angst

word count: ~2.3k

warnings: attempted SA (it’s not real), knife attack (also not real), crying, pet names

masterlist * previous chapter * next chapter

an: this is the most wattpad coded thing i think i have ever written, and im kinda here for it tbh.

the elevator ride up to chans hotel room was long and awkward. you still felt a little shaken up and panicky about the whole situation and chan was being too quiet. you’ve only met him in person for the first time today, but you knew this amount of silence was unlike him. something was rattling around in his brain. you felt bad. they were here on a schedule and you messed it all up. chan has so much on his plate and all you did was add to it. you sighed as the elevator doors opened. you followed chan down the long hallway until he stopped in front of a door. he pulled his plastic key card from his pocket and the door swung open. he gestured for you to go first.

his room was nice. this was probably the nicest hotel room you had ever been in. it was like a small apartment. there was a living area with a tv, couch and coffee table. and then past that down a small hallway was what you assumed to be the bedroom and bathroom, though you couldn’t tell from where you were standing.

"the bed is down that little hallway." chan pointed. "the bathroom is there too." he gently took your injured hand in his own. "felix’s room is right next door, okay? if you need anything you have my number or you can always knock." you took a breath to say something but chan cut you off. "i promise you’re not going to bother anyone if you knock. please don’t hesitate if you need something." he said. he knows you so well already.

you gave him a small smile. "that’s not what i was going to say. though it definitely sounds like something i would say."

"oh." he looked embarrassed. "what were you going to say?"

now it was your turn to be embarrassed. you weren’t sure if you were going to regret what you were about to ask, but you didn’t think you really had a choice.

"uhm.." you pulled your hand free of chans grasp and fiddled with your sweater sleeves, unable to look at him when you asked. "would it be totally weird and wrong of me to ask you to stay here tonight?" you asked. the room was silent for a moment and you started to panic. you looked up at him. "not— not like in the same bed or anything! just like in the same room! i just don’t know if i can be alone right now. i would feel much safer if you were here with me. if that’s okay.." you slowly trailed off.

"hey.." chan soothed. he put his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. "i don’t mind to stay here. i’ll sleep on the couch. does that work?"

you nodded. "thank you, channie." you said quietly. he smiled down at you. he wouldn’t say it out loud at this moment, but that was the first time you had called him channie in person and he definitely took note of it. he loved it. it made him want to jump up and down and clap his hands, but he refrained.

"well.. um.. goodnight." you mumbled, awkward and embarrassed, and headed toward the bedroom.

"wait." chan said. you turned to face him. he walked over to the couch and unzipped his suitcase. he pulled out a black t shirt and some black athletic shorts and tossed them at you. "here. you can sleep in these. i bet sleeping in jeans wouldn’t be all that comfortable." he said.

you completely missed the clothes and they fell to the floor. you scrambled to pick them up quickly and stuttered out your thanks before escaping to the bathroom.

——

you crawled into the bed. it felt much too big for you. but the sheets were warm and inviting. chans clothes were soft against your skin and they smelled like him. that same musky vanilla smell that you noticed at the coffee shop. you pulled the neckline up to your nose and breathed deep. damn he smelled so good. breathing him in, it wasn’t long before you’re eyes became heavy and you drifted off to sleep.

you could feel the cold metal pressed against your skin again. the point poking a hole into your shirt, threatening to break the skin. you were panicking, hyperventilating. "be good and just let me take it, okay?" the man’s voice said in your ear, his foul breath ghosting over your face and filling you nostrils, turning your stomach. let him take what? he removed the knife from your skin and used his hands to grab your hips. you could feel the hilt poking into you. he pulled you flush against his body, your back to his front. he took his free hand and slid it up your shirt, running his fingers across your stomach. you knew in this moment what he wanted to take and you couldn’t let it happen. "yn?" you could hear chans voice from behind you. "let her go!" he yelled. and the man didn’t hesitate for even a moment before he turned around and shoved the knife into chans stomach. he gasped and reached for his now bleeding wound. the man ran in the opposite direction as chan fell to his knees in front of you. tears streamed down your cheeks as you fell with him, cradling his head. "yn.." he said, his voice weak. "i’m here." you comforted him. "yn." he said again, a little firmer this time. "YN" he yelled.

you gasped awake, clutching your chest, frantically trying to gather your surroundings. "hey, hey, it’s okay." chan grabbed your hand. "you were having a bad dream. you’re okay." he wiped your tears away with the pads of his fingers. "i’m here, yeah?"

finally taking him in, he was fine. healthy, not stabbed or bleeding. your bottom lip quivered. you threw yourself into his arms and sobbed. he was stunned at first, but he caught you with no problems, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you close. "shhh, baby it’s okay. it’s over now. i promise you’re safe." your body shook in his arms as he soothed you. "do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly against your hair.

you pulled away from him and met his gaze with glassy eyes. it broke his heart to see you like that. he wiped your falling tears with his thumbs. "the- uhm.." you sniffled. "the attacker was in my dream. but this time when you came to save me, you got hurt." you said, voice breaking, fresh hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

"hey, don’t cry. i’m okay." he smiled. "i’m right here, see?" he gestured to himself. he gently took your hand in his and placed your palm against his chest. you could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. "i’m fine, yeah?"

you nodded, sniffling, your tears finally having stopped. your eyes now heavy with exhaustion. you wanted to lay back down. "i’m sorry i woke you up." you told him.

"oh you didn’t. you know me.." he pointed to himself. "insomnia." he chuckled. "i’m feeling pretty sleepy right now though."

"oh yeah. i forgot i bore you to sleep." you laughed.

"hey, you do not." his accent so thick, and he laughed. "i’m just comfortable with you."

"well.. i don’t mind if you stay here to sleep.." you told him. "you need your rest. and i honestly think you keep the nightmares away.." you added quietly.

he looked a little surprised. "are you sure? i don’t want you to feel like im trying anything. i swear im not."

"no, no channie. i don’t think that. we’re just helping each other sleep."

there it was again, channie. it sounded so good coming out of your mouth. it sounded so sweet. he softened at the sound of it. he smiled. "okay. as long as you’re sure it’s okay."

"i’m sure." you reclined back on the bed, snuggling under the cover. you lifted the edge so he could slide underneath as well. he slid in beside you, pulling your body flush with his. his fingertips making contact with a sliver of bare skin peeking out from under your (his) shirt. you felt that same electric spark course through you.

"is this okay?" he asked, his voice raspy as he whispered in your ear. all you could muster was a nod. all thoughts and words left your brain. you stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing easy, slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms before he broke the silence. "i’m sorry i put you in that situation today." he said.

you tried to roll over to face him, but he held tight. "you didn’t put me in any situation." you said to the open room.

"oh but i did." he said. he sounded so sad. "im the only reason you’re in chicago. i’m the one who had to leave early, forcing you to walk back to your car alone. i should have been there. and i’m sorry."

"chan it’s not your fault. you had no idea a crazy man with a knife would try to attack me. that’s ridiculous."

"ridiculous or not, i’m just… sorry." he squeezed you a little tighter, nuzzling his face into your hair.

"it’s okay." you tell him. "i’m fine, you’re fine, the guy is in jail. everything is okay."

"you’re right." he says. though you can tell he still feels guilty. "get some rest, okay? i’m here to catch all the bad dreams."

and with that, you fell asleep.

— —

the next morning came too soon. you had never slept so good. and it seemed, neither had chan. his alarm was blaring, the morning sunlight peeking through the curtains. he groaned and reached to turn the alarm off. once the room was silent, he pulled you close once more. he took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of your shampoo.

"chan.." you poked his bicep gently. you got no answer. "chaaaannnnn." you sing songed. still no answer. "chan i have to pee." you told him curtly.

"uh uh." he said in a childish tone, squeezing you slightly. you giggled.

"channie i really need to go." you pleaded. though, you didn’t want to ever leave his arms. but nature called.

"only because you called me channie." he said. he placed the softest kiss on the spot where you’re shoulder meets your neck and then he released you. but now you couldn’t move. you lay there in a stunned frozen state until he nudged you. "aren’t you going to go pee?" he asked.

"oh.. right." you chuckled awkwardly before getting up and heading for the bathroom. you changed back into the clothes you were wearing yesterday and brushed your teeth with your finger, before trying your best to flatten your hair with your palms. chan had already gotten dressed for the day, his normal black hoodie and beanie. his curls poking out from under the material.

"are you ready?" he asked. you nodded. "your car is pretty close to here. so i’ll escort you there before i have to leave."

he sounded sad. but you weren’t sure why. maybe sad because you were going home and he was off to whatever schedule they had. he didn’t know when he would see you again. was that too self centered for you to assume? because that’s how you were feeling. you weren’t ready to part ways with him yet. but you didn’t really have a choice.

the walk to your car was short and not as traumatic as you thought it would be. the spot where the attack happened was much less scary in the daytime. the walk was also quiet. chan really wasn’t saying much. maybe that’s just the way he is? maybe he’s naturally quiet, though you didn’t think so. he had something on his mind and that’s why he wasn’t talking. and you weren’t talking because you were thinking about what he might be thinking about. and before you knew it, you arrived at the parking garage. he followed you inside to make sure you got to your car safely.

unlocking the door, you turned to tell him goodbye. he was looking down at his shoes.

"chan, what’s the matter?" you asked. "you’ve been quiet the whole way here."

"i’m just sad to see you go." he said, giving you a small smile.

"i feel the same way. but we can see each other again, hopefully soon, if that’s what you want." maybe that’s not what he wants. maybe this whole mess has been too much for him. maybe you are too much for him.

"i’m not so sure it’s a good idea if we see each other again." he said quietly.

and there it was. that’s what’s been on his mind. how to let you down gently. you were too much for him. too much of a burden, an annoyance. did last night and this morning mean nothing to him? you had said it was just you helping each other sleep, but there was something there. you felt it. you know he did too. he kissed your neck this morning! how could he act like that meant nothing?

"so you were leading me on? and now you’re done having your fun? is that what this is?" you asked, your voice laced with venom. you were embarrassed and hurt and angry. and instead of rolling over and letting him hurt you, you were going to hurt him. and that will make this break easier.

"leading you on? no that’s not—" and he reached for your hand but you pulled it away.

"i understand that im not the typical girl you would go for. but i thought i felt something. but maybe that’s just me being delusional." you opened your car door. "just forget it. " you said, before climbing inside and shutting the door. you started the engine and backed out of the spot, leaving chan in your rear view.

taglist: @thinkingaboutlana @tamlinsfiddle @everythingboutkpop @iknowyouknowminho to be added or removed, just lmk.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

How You Get the Girl (Superstar Chapter 9)

I want you for worse or for better

I would wait for ever and ever

Broke your heart, I'll put it back together

I would wait for ever and ever

Roy and the Reader finally figure out what they want.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.8k words

Warnings: Language, teeny tiny angst at the start, lots of apologies, hard flirting & allusions to smutty activities, adults drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

Thanks for sticking with me through the angst! Hopefully this chapter makes up for it because I made myself giggle and blush from some of the fluff in this chapter 💖

~

Choosing a game day outfit had never been more stressful. Normally, it was quick work: jeans, Greyhounds sweater, comfy shoes, sometimes a cap on sunny days. But most game days didn’t follow a text from Roy Kent asking if we could talk. The first text he’d sent me after our breakup. Five little words that gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe- maybe­- we could fix things.

I hadn’t told anyone about the text; not Keeley, not Rebecca, not my girlfriends, not my mum. What if I was wrong? What if I’d totally misread everything at the ballet and in the car? What if Roy still totally hated my guts and was dating someone new- or worse, Brittany fucking Brett- and was doing the decent thing and telling me first before I saw it online?

But I couldn’t help but feel some non-Roy-related joy as I sorted through my worryingly obsessive amount of Richmond sweaters. Despite my personal anguish, there was something truly exciting happening: the Greyhounds were winning. And today’s match against Chelsea had the potential to do the impossible: put AFC Richmond in first place. There was still plenty of season to go, but everyone couldn’t help but feel hopeful going into this game and what it would mean for the rest of our season. Even with whatever was happening in my personal life, I couldn’t help but skip down to my car, humming “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

For the first time in weeks, I parked my car close to the building; in fact, I parked it right next to Roy’s big stupid car, the sight of which made my heart rate race just a bit faster, especially considering it was way earlier than his usual arrival time. I had to stop myself from rushing into the offices and looking too eager; but, as it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about how I appeared walking into my office. Roy wasn’t there.

Pretending that I wasn’t disappointed, I started on my game day routine, putting things where they belonged and making sure the gaffers would have everything they needed once they arrived. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Roy’s text.

The night before, after I’d read his text for the hundredth time, I’d responded with Yes, of course. I saw those three little dots and then… nothing. It had been a little off-putting, but I somewhat understood; it was Roy after all. He’d find me when he was ready.

“Oi, you busy?”

I turned and saw Jamie standing in the doorway, holding a little orange piece of paper in his hands. He had that bashful look he wore the night he brought me my box of stuff from Roy’s, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye this time.

“Me? Busy before a match? Never.” I grinned at him. “You’re here early. D’you need something?”

“We did this morning’s workout here because Roy said he had business to handle before the match.” He stepped forward and handed me the little piece of paper. “Told me to come give this to you. And to ask you to please go to your assigned seat as soon as possible.” He nodded to the little note I now held. “Then I’ve gotta go run for somethin’ like a thousand hours on the treadmill, but I think he was just jokin’ about that one.” He paused, clearly thinking. “I hope.”

I looked at Jamie quizzically, unable to resist chuckling at his equally confused expression. “Alright Jamie. Thanks for the message.”

Jamie gave me a small salute and sauntered off. As soon as he was gone, I looked carefully at the little orange sticky note in my hand. It simply read the number for a stadium seat. A bit puzzled, I grabbed my tablet- the one thing I was never without on game day- and strolled out of the office, briskly making my way to the stands.

As I walked through the empty seats, I spotted a lone figure in a dark shirt sitting exactly where I was headed. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I saw him, and I did my best to bite back a smile. No matter what this conversation held, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see Roy.

“This seat taken?” I teased as I approached.

He grunted and nodded towards the seat next to him, his mouth twitching in the corner, the way it always did when he was fighting a smile. I sat down and looked out at the field; I’d sat out here many times before with my family or with my mates, seen this view many times before, but somehow the grass seemed greener, the red and blue seats seemed brighter, the white lines seemed crisper. Perhaps it was because Roy Kent wasn’t running down the pitch, but was instead next to me, looking as anxious as I felt.

“This isn’t too fucking dramatic, is it?” he asked with a scowl. “Sitting out here and all?”

I shrugged. “Just dramatic enough for my taste.”

“Hmmf.” He paused for a moment. “Did you enjoy the recital last night?”

I turned back to Roy, who was looking at me with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, um, yeah.” Not the question I was expecting. “Did you?”

He shrugged, his leg shaking a bit. “It was a bunch of eight-year-olds jumping around to instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs. It was fine.” He paused, his gaze shifting down. “But I liked that you were there,” he mumbled.

My eyes fell to my tablet as my finger traced the AFC on one of my stickers. “I… I liked being there too. It was nice to see Phoebe. And your sister.” I paused, letting my eyes flicker to Roy. “And you. Thanks for driving me home, by the way.”

“Couldn’t let you walk,” he grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat. He was silent after that.

I cleared my throat. “So, is that what you wanted to talk about? Phoebe’s ballet?”

“Fuck no,” he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I wanted to talk about… well, you know…” He gestured between us. “This thing.”

“This thing,” I repeated with a slow nod. “You and me, you mean?”

He coughed. “Yeah. You and me.”

Clearly, I would have to be the one to get the ball rolling. “And what about you and me?”

Roy let out one of those giant sighs and looked up at the blue sky. “I fucking miss you,” he mumbled. “Even more than Oscar does.”

I didn’t hide my smile. “Well, I miss you fellas too,” I admitted. “Quite a bit actually.”

With an abruptness, Roy turned and faced me, his eyebrows knitted together. “Listen,” he said, his voice low. “I get now that you didn’t do anything wrong or on purpose, but I’m still really upset about that fucking article. It feels like shit to be talked about that way in print, which I’m sure you get now. Makes you feel like…. Like….” He tapped his fingers on his jiggling knee. “Like that fucking scene in Finding Nemo where the fucking braceface girl is tapping on the aquarium and the fish all freak the fuck out.”

“I guess you could say reporters are piranhas,” I joked, immediately understanding the feeling he was talking about.

My reference was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth tugging upwards in the corners. “Exactly.” He folded his arms and slouched a bit. “But yeah. It fucking sucks. And the idea of trusting someone with all my secrets and knowing that at any moment all of that could be leaked is kind of…” He bobbled his head, his eyes on the sky. “Scary,” he finished in a low voice. “And it makes me feel… exposed.” He looked at me carefully, as if he dared me to laugh at the words coming out of his mouth. When I didn’t, he sighed and continued. “It’s not exactly a secret that I have a bit of a shit track record with the press and my love life.”

I couldn’t argue with that last point; I’d religiously followed his dating history over the years, a fact I suddenly felt embarrassed by. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roy,” I whispered, resisting the urge to grab his hand. “D’you trust me on that?”

Roy let out a deep, growling sigh. “I want to,” he admitted. “But when you’ve been fucked over as much as I have…” He shrugged. “Shit’s fucking hard.”

Knots appeared in my stomach. “Oh.”

As if he could read my mind, he reached over and grabbed my hand. He spoke quickly, as if he wanted to get his next words over with. “So, I’ve made an appointment with Doctor Sharon so I can start working through all that shit and be…” He closed his eyes and let out a deep, growling breath. “A better version of myself,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s really good, Roy,” I assured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at me. “I love you,” he said. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. “I really fucking love you. And I want to make sure that we can give each other what we need.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “What I need is someone I can trust. Someone who isn’t going to turn around and blab all my shit. Someone who’ll protect me.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you need?”

I paused. “Am I allowed to say you?”

The smallest smile graced his face. “No. But thank you.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Come on, tell me what you fucking need.”

“Hmm.” I thought for a moment, ignoring how wonderfully warm Roy’s hand felt in mine. “I need… I need to feel like I’m not something to be embarrassed by. Like I’m not some dirty secret.” I scrunched my face as my voice got small. “Like I’m not some little fangirl with a crush instead of a woman in a relationship. Like I don’t have to compete with models and actresses.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I hear that.” He looked me in the eye intently and gave my hand a squeeze. “But just so you know, in my mind, you never have to compete with anyone, you hear?”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw that adoration return to the eyes I loved so much. “Alright,” I whispered. I looked down at our hands. “So… where does this leave us, Roy?”

With his free hand, Roy lifted my chin so I could look him in the eye. “We keep talking,” he said slowly. “We fucking tell each other what we want and need. We give each other our best, every fucking day. And we see how that goes.” He paused. “Is that alright? For now, I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” I breathed, giving his hand a squeeze. I cleared my throat, realizing that it was about time for the gates to start opening and for the team to get ready to warm up. “We should go get ready for the match, hmm?”

Roy nodded, standing and pulling me up with him, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re still coming to see Oscar today, right?”

“Of course,” I assured him as we made our way out of the stands. “I think I’ve missed him more than I’ve missed you,” I teased, hoping Roy would laugh.

And he did.

~

“Go on, Sam!” I shrieked, bouncing up and down, my knuckles white as I clutched my tablet to my chest.

We were well into stoppage time, somewhere in the ninety-seventh minute, tied 2-2 with Chelsea. I could feel the roar of the crowd vibrating deep in my chest as Sam raced down the field, far, far ahead of the defenders. I didn’t need to check my data, all the numbers on spreadsheets that showed what an amazing season Sam was having, to know he had this. I could see it in the way he carried himself.

My entire body tensed as he inched closer, closer…

And scored.

Almost immediately, the whistle shrieked, signaling the end of the game, and Richmond’s new place at the top of the Premier League standings. I screamed and threw my tablet into an empty dugout seat, knowing Will would be too excited to properly catch it. I followed the gaffers out onto the pitch, joining the team in tackling Sam, whose infectious laugh I could hear somewhere in the crowd. In all the jumping and cheering and laughing, I registered Ted smacking a kiss on my cheek, and Beard ruffling my hair, and the rest of the boys hugging me tight.

Finally, my eyes found Roy, who wore that big smile, the same one he’d worn after our very first kiss at my parents’ house. His smile softened as he made his way to me, shaking off players’ attempts at congratulations, stopping in front of me. I wondered if a hug would be too much to ask for-

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his hands cupping my face. “Really fucking proud of you.” He looked at the celebration raging around us. “And I want all these pricks to know it.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he ducked his head and crashed his lips into mine. His kiss was desperate, hungry, needy. Like he was a dying man with one last request. I smiled against his lips, remembering how much I loved the tickle of his beard against my skin as I laid my hands on his hips, pulling him closer. When I opened my mouth, he let out a small hum of delight, the vibrations rumbling against my chest. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the rowdy shouts and whistles coming from some of the players once they spotted us, the hearty “Well I’ll be!” from Ted, and what sounded like shrieks from Keeley and Rebecca- and was that Higgins too?- in the owner’s box. But all I could truly focus on was Roy. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the sound of his gentle moan against my mouth, the smell of the cologne I’d bought for him in Paris, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, the intense pounding of his heart.

“Oi! Coach! Keep it family-friendly over there!”

With a low growl, Roy removed his lips from mine, instead pressing our foreheads together. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jamie Tartt,” he grumbled, his gentle smile contrasting his violent words.

I couldn’t help but laugh and bury my face in his chest, tightening my grip on him. “What happened to ‘privacy’?” I asked, my voice full of teasing.

Roy shrugged, lifting my face so we were looking at each other. “Fuck privacy. My team’s in first place. I wanted to fucking kiss my girl.” As if to prove his point, he planted a kiss on my lips again, smaller this time, but just as heated. When he released me, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face. “What’re the odds we can get through this party without having a dramatic row?”

I shrugged, fixing the sides of his shirt where I’d been gripping him. “Third time’s the charm, Kent.”

~

Roy insisted on not splitting to go get ready for the team celebration that night. Instead, he drove us both to his place so I could spend some time with Oscar while Roy got ready, then to my place so I could change into the little black dress he liked. When I walked out of my bedroom, transformed from “Game Day” me to “Going to the club with Roy Kent” me, his jaw dropped softly as he eyed me from the couch.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. “Fucking gorgeous,” he purred, planting a kiss on my shoulder. He moved my hair away from my neck and laid a slow kiss there. “Do we have to go? We don’t seem to have the best luck at parties,” he teased, as if his real motivation wasn’t completely obvious.

I shoved him playfully. “Come on, Kent. Let’s go break our curse.”

The celebration was in full swing when we arrived at the swanky club the boys had chosen for to honor the occasion. As we approached the doors, I tightened my grip around Roy’s hand. As if he could feel my anxiety growing, he bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready for the official debut of Roy Kent and his anonymous assistant?” I joked tensely.

With a small smile, Roy shook his head. “Fuck that. I’m ready to make our debut as you and me. Just us.”

My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the affection in his eye. “Just us,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the bustling club, offering nods of acknowledgement to the players who shot us mischievous looks. Roy led me to the bar, where he ordered my usual drink and a beer for himself.

“Cheers,” he murmured, handing me my drink. He leaned on the bar and gazed at me as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes moving slowly down my figure. “You look so damn-”

“You guys!” Keeley squealed, throwing her arms around us and giving a squeeze before letting go, Jamie at her heels. “Holy shit! I have so many questions, you have to tell me everything!”

I glanced at Roy and intertwined our fingers. “Not much to tell,” I said with a shrug, suddenly feeling bashful.

Roy lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. “What she said.”

Jamie tapped his drink to Roy’s beer. “Cheers, Coach.” He smiled. “Guess this means we’ve got some double dates in our future, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scoffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. The squeeze he gave my hand assured me that yes, we would have double dates with these two, no matter what he said with his mouth.

“Well, well, well, would you look at you two!” Ted approached us, his grin wider than I’d ever seen it. “Caught your lip lock after the game. All ya needed was some rain and y’all woulda given Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams a real run for their money. The Notebook, more like the Playbook, ya know?” He winked at Roy. “Went and got ’er, huh?”

Another eye roll from Roy. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the advice.” He turned to me. “Can we go sit down now? My fuckin’ knee is killing me.”

I stifled a giggle as I let him lead me to a secluded couch, away from the curious gazes of the Richmond players and staff. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stared at me with a lazy grin. I turned my body to face him, the gears in my head turning.

“So, Ted gave you advice about us, hmm?”

Roy took a long drink of his beer. “He may have told me some stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Y’know, before I left to go get ready for Phoebe’s recital, I heard Ted and Beard barking and running out of the office. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Kent?”

He let out a low growl and bobbled his head. “I may have asked the fucking Diamond Dogs for advice,” he muttered.

“You must’ve been desperate,” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

His eyes softened. “Guess I was,” he hummed, leaning towards me to steal a brief kiss. “Fucking missed this,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck. “Missed you.”

“So, what advice did the Diamond Dogs give you?” I pressed, not willing to let him distract me from the topic at hand. “Or is it totally confidential?”

He tossed his head back with a defeated sigh. “They told me to fucking communicate with you. And to be willing to be, I dunno, vulnerable and shit.”

“Vulnerable,” I repeated, taking a sip of my drink. “That’s pretty sexy, you know.”

His eyebrows flew up. “So, if I spill all my fucking secrets and cry a bit, you’ll come home with me tonight?” he teased, leaning close.

“Only because I want to see Oscar,” I shot back, bumping his nose with mine.

Before Roy could retort or kiss me, Sam, Dani, and Colin ambled over, shit-eating grins on their faces. Roy scowled at them, while I opted for a smile and wave.

“Hi boys,” I greeted, prepared for the teasing we were about to receive.

Dani raised his eyebrow at us. “So, this is for real, yes?”

Colin nodded emphatically. “Don’t go jerking us ’round. We’ve been waiting for this for months.”

A look of almost revulsion spread across Roy’s face as he scoffed. “Are you pricks fucking serious?”

“Dead serious, boyo,” Colin confirmed. “Er, Coach,” he corrected under Roy’s glare. “We’ve been rooting for you. Even had a pool going about when you two’d get together.”

Sam grinned. “I had bet on the last game of the season. I am a very big fan of a dramatic slow-burn romance.”

As the boys chattered on about the different bets they’d placed and why, Roy leaned close to me. “Should we tell them we first got together fucking months ago?” he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. “Don’t spoil their fun.”

~

I woke up smelling cinnamon. I turned over in bed, finding only Oscar, who’d ditched his own bed for Roy’s at some point.

“Morning, Oscar,” I mumbled, stroking the dog’s fur. “Where’s Roy, hmm?”

When the dog didn’t answer, I rolled myself out of bed and headed downstairs, the pitter-patter of Oscar’s paws following me the whole way. I found Roy in the kitchen, fully dressed, whistling and making French toast. Keeping quiet, I hovered in the doorway, watching him as my heart swelled with joy. He moved with a lightness I didn’t think I’d ever seen. It took me a moment to realize he was whistling “Something Good” from The Sound of Music. Unofficially “our song”.

Doing my best to step silently, I approached and wrapped my arms around his middle. “What’re you up to?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes at him.

He peered down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Making some fucking breakfast.”

“For who?”

“Jamie fucking Tartt,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing the top of my head. “Who d’you fucking think?” He nodded towards the kitchen island. “Sit.”

I made a face at him. “Yes, Coach,” I teased, slipping my arms from around him and taking my usual seat. On the countertop were Roy’s car keys and a cup of tea. I took a sip and glanced up at Roy, who had resumed his whistling. “Did you go to the shop this morning?”

He shrugged. “Needed syrup.” He glanced back at me. “Hope your tea’s still hot.”

“It’s perfect,” I stared at him. “What’s with the production this morning?”

Roy plated a couple slices of French toast and brought it over to me. “Fuck d’you mean?”

I shrugged as I took the plate. “You went to the shop before I was awake to get syrup. Let me sleep in. Made sure my tea was ready. Cooked my favorite breakfast.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re spoiling me, Kent.”

“Ah.” Roy grabbed a fork and the syrup and slid them over to me, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “I… am just glad you’re here,” he said slowly, looking at me intently. “I have mentioned that I fucking missed you, yeah?”

My face warmed as I turned my attention to drowning my French toast in syrup. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He let out a shy chuckle, a sound I didn’t hear too often. “Well, I just wanted to, I don’t fucking know, celebrate getting back together.” He wrinkled his nose, clearly feeling the same nervousness I was feeling. “I know we’re still figuring all this shit out, but it’s nice. It’s fucking nice.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. I took a bite of French toast and felt myself melt at the familiar taste. “Shit. I almost forgot Roy Kent can cook,” I teased.

Rolling his eyes, Roy turned and served himself a plate before joining me back at the island. “Alright. So, I was thinking-”

“A dangerous pastime.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Almost forgot you never fucking shut up.” He took an aggressive bite of his breakfast. “Like I was saying, I was thinking we should swing by your place today.” His eyes flickered up to me. “Pick up that box of stuff Jamie brought you.” The air felt heavy for a moment at the mention of what I thought of as the ‘break-up box’. “Y’know, because you need a toothbrush.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Your morning breath is fucking awful.”

“Prick,” I mumbled, unable to contain my grin.

It felt good to be back.

~

That Monday, after pulling into his usual parking at Nelson Road, Roy turned off the car and eyed me carefully. “What?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What what?”

“You’ve had this fucking… look on your face the whole drive over.” He shrugged. “You thinkin’ about something?”

“Oh.” I looked down at my hands. “Just… everyone knows now,” I huffed, trying to sound casual.

Roy leaned his head back against the headrest. “Don’t fucking tell me you want to go back to keeping things secret?” he asked teasingly. “Because I will drive this car off a fucking cliff.”

I laughed. “No. It’s just going to take some getting used to. I fully expect at least a month of teasing from the guys.”

“Yeah. But at least I can do this whenever I fucking want.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, slowly, tenderly, full of affection.

When he pulled back, I smiled, the butterflies in my stomach now completely gone. “Whenever you want, hmm? I’d love to see you try that during training.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.

I nodded towards the building. “Come on, then. Can’t have you making me late, you menace.”

I had walked into the offices side by side with Roy before. Many times. It wasn’t a secret that we drove to work together sometimes, claiming that I liked to use the carpool time to try to transcribe Roy’s shit handwriting to our digital playbook I’d made.

Now, however, Roy casually threw his arm around my shoulders, making me feel like a teenage girl walking down the hall with the most popular boy in school, my cheeks growing a smidge warmer with every pair of eyes that glanced our way with knowing smiles.

In the changing room, the guys all stood a little taller, mouths open with glee, when we walked in. Before any of them could make one of the million comments they’d probably had prepared for months, Roy cleared his throat, shooting them his most intimidating glare.

“Don’t.”

Quickly, each Greyhound turned and pretended to be very busy in their cubbies. I chuckled and knocked my hip into Roy’s as he led me to the coaching offices, where Ted and Beard sat, sipping coffee.

Beard raised his eyebrows at us. “Well, hello there,” he greeted in a sing-songy voice, tapping the brim of his hat.

Roy nodded with a small grunt in return, speaking the wordless language only the two of them understood.

Ted lit up as he looked us over. “Move over Becks and Posh, there’s a new hot couple in the soccer world!” He lifted his paper cup in our direction. “Seriously, I am very happy for you two. Roy, you are practically glowing.”

The furrow in Roy’s brow at Ted’s comment was almost enough to make me giggle. “Right, I should let you gentlemen get ready for training.” I beamed up at Roy. “You pick lunch today.”

“Fine.” He bent his head and kissed my lips, eliciting little oooohs from Ted and Beard. Roy growled at them, but I could see a playful glimmer in his eye.

I practically skipped to my desk and set my things down, glancing at the to-do list I’d left myself before the weekend. As I opened my laptop and started looking at the week’s schedule, my eyes were drawn to the wall space above my desk- specifically, to the spot formerly taken up by a particular little orange sticky note.

Roy stepped into the office and dropped his duffel on his chair. Apparently, his gaze was drawn to the same spot. “I should write you a new autograph,” he murmured, his voice light.

“I’ll just ask Keeley to give the old one back,” I replied with a shrug.

“Nah.” I heard scribbling behind me. “Here.” Roy leaned over me and stuck a new sticky note on the wall.

To my favourite fan. XOXO Roy

I tilted my head up to see Roy gazing down at me. “How much d’you think I could get for this on eBay?”

“Fuck you.” He kissed the top of my head. “See you later.”

As soon as Roy and the other gaffers were out of the office, I couldn’t help myself; I spun around in my chair, giggling like a schoolgirl in love.

~

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Roy grumbled as we walked arm-in-arm through the building. “I fucking know where her office is.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’m just offering my support. Being a good girlfriend.”

Roy grunted. “Fine. Whatever.” We walked in silence for a bit before he opened his mouth again. “Thanks. For being supportive.”

“Anytime.” I smiled up at him. “I’m really proud of you, y’know.”

Glancing around us at the empty hallway, Roy stopped walking and leaned against the wall, sliding his hand down to hold mine. “And why’s that?”

I pressed myself close to him. “Because. You’re doing something, I dunno, brave. Working through something that’s hard for you. Being vulnerable.” I put a teasing emphasis on the word, knowing Roy hated it.

Sure enough, he growled. “You still find that sexy, right?”

“Very,” I assured him. I kissed his cheek. “I find it so sexy I’m thinking I’ll spend the night at your place again tonight.”

He smirked. “That’s three nights in a row.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve been very vulnerable lately. I can’t resist.”

“Imagine how much you’ll like me after my therapy session.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Which I am going to be fucking late for if I don’t get going.”

“Alright, go, go.” I planted one more kiss on his lips. “You’ve got this. I love you.”

An hour later, Roy returned to our office, where I was working out a schedule to send to Keeley so she could have some of the guys in an advertisement. As soon as I heard the familiar sound of Roy’s heavy footsteps, I whipped my chair around.

“So, how’d it go?” I asked in a cheery tone as Roy plopped into his chair.

He grunted, swiveling his chair from side to side. “Fine.”

I eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” I assured him. “I just hope you found it helpful.”

Roy glanced through the window into Ted’s empty office. “Are they gone?”

I nodded. “Pretty much everyone’s already left for the day.”

“Good.” He pushed his chair closer to mine. “Doctor Sharon was good,” he started. “I, uh, told her about what happened with us. About all the shit the press I’ve had for, like, ever. About how Brittany Brett treated me. About having my watch stolen.” He paused. “Really fucking liked that watch too.”

“And did Doctor Sharon say anything you found helpful?” I asked, trying to get Roy back on track.

“A lot of the same shit the Diamond Dogs said, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Communication, being willing to be vulnerable-”

I pretended to swoon. “My favorite word.”

He smirked. “And she talked about being very honest with you when something makes me uncomfortable or if I need something from you.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “She also reminded me that you were very patient with me when I asked you to keep things quiet. That you have shown over and over that you care about me, just Roy, not about me as a football legend.”

I made a face. “D’you ever feel like a wanker when you call yourself a ‘legend’?”

“Why? Do I sound like one?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Just a bit.”

He chuckled. “Fuck me then. Anyway.” He squeezed my hands. “Doctor Sharon also said that we… should try to forgive each other.” His eyes searched mine. “So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made you feel like a secret or like I was fucking ashamed to be with you. That was never what I wanted. I’m…” He paused, glancing down. “I’m very fucking proud to be with you, actually.” He cleared his throat. “You’re fucking amazing. Fucking smart as hell, and kind, and you’re great with Phoebe, and you love football, and you’re fucking fit.” His eyes flickered back to my face. “And most importantly, I fucking love you.” He took a deep breath. “So I hope you… forgive me.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking in every word Roy had just said. “I forgive you.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “And I’m sorry, Roy. For letting Brittany Brett get to me and not respecting what you had asked about keeping quiet. And for making you uncomfortable by being so pushy that night instead of having an adult conversation.” I offered an unsure smile. “Forgive me?”

“Course I fucking forgive you.” Roy’s ears were a deep red. “Alright, is that enough being vulnerable for today?”

I chuckled. “Sure, Roy.”

“Good.” Without warning he stood and picked me up, one arm under my legs and the other behind my back, smirking at my surprised squeal. “When we get home, you can show me how much you like me being vulnerable.”

~

“You fucking sure you have to go?” Roy had asked me the same question about twenty times on Friday evening from the moment we left work to the moment I tossed my overnight bag into his car.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin as I wrapped my arms around him. “Yes, Roy. Keeley’s gone all out planning this pyjama party and if I cancel on her I’m pretty sure she’ll murder me.”

“I don’t mind planning a funeral,” he muttered, kissing my face. “Might be kind of fun.”

I pretended to be offended. “Really? You’d let someone kill me so I don’t go to a fucking slumber party?”

He shrugged. “I… fucking like waking up with you next to me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes with embarrassment.

“You needy thing,” I mumbled, breaking out of his grip and opening the passenger door. “Come on, you said you’d be my chauffer.”

“Hold on, I've got somethin’ for you.” He disappeared into the house and came back out holding-

“Is that my fucking lucky sweater?” I gasped as he handed it to me. “You had it this whole fucking time?” I thew it on over the t-shirt I was wearing with my leggings. “You prick, I was busting my ass looking for this.”

Roy looked sheepish. “I meant to put it in the box Tartt took over to you,” he admitted. “But I just…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

My annoyance gave way to soft affection. “Roy Kent, you sentimental fool,” I muttered, kissing his cheek. “Still have to take me to Keeley’s though.”

He grunted and helped me into the car. “Was worth a fucking shot.”

Keeley Jones had the perfect house for a good, old-fashioned slumber party. Everything was pink and neon and glittery and covered in feathers. She answered the door in the cutest pink-checkered pyjamas I’d ever seen, with her hair held in pigtails by matching pink pom-poms and fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. “Rebecca’s already inside, she’s making mimosas.”

“Oi!” Roy leaned out the car window, smirking at us. “Take good care of her, alright? I want her back in one piece.”

Keeley stuck out her tongue at him. “No boys allowed! You can have her back tomorrow!”

Roy rolled his eyes, still smirking, and waved before driving off. I turned to Keeley, who squealed excitedly and ushered me inside, where Rebecca greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a glass in my hand. The three of us settled in Keeley’s living room, bubbly pop music blasting from a speaker as we clutched fluffy pillows and dug into the snacks Keeley had put out.

“Alright,” Keeley started, waggling her eyebrows. “Spill.”

I sipped my drink, trying to be casual. “About?”

Rebecca scoffed. “Don’t be coy. Tell us everything about you and Roy.” She made a face. “Shit. Didn’t mean to rhyme.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I brought my knees to my chest, feeling every bit the young girl at a sleepover. “I mean, what’s there to say? We were together, that stupid article happened, we got back together. That’s it.”

“No, not all the drama,” Keeley said, wrinkling her nose. “We want the details.” She leaned in close. “Like, what he’s like when you’re alone. The dates you go on. That sort of thing.” She touched her glass to mine. “Of course, what’s said at pyjama parties, stays at pyjama parties, alright?”

I shot her a thankful smile. “Fine.” Another sip. “Roy’s… wonderful,” I sighed. “He’s so gentle and romantic. So fucking sweet to me.” I thought for a moment. “He cooks. Likes to make me my tea in the morning.” After a pause, I added, “He let me name his dog.”

“Roy has a dog?” Rebecca asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Oscar.” I grinned. “Named him after the Sesame Street character.”

Keeley giggled. “Oh shit, that’s so cute!”

We sat like that for hours, chattering and drinking, giggling and singing along to the songs that Keeley played. Finally, after a particularly spirited rendition of “Wannabe” at around midnight, Keeley perked up.

“I have a fabulous idea,” she announced, jumping to her feet with a surprising agility for someone who had lost count of her mimosas. We gazed at her expectantly. “What slumber party is complete without some pranks?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’d you have in mind?”

An hour later, we stood in front of Roy’s house, chalk in hand.

“Oh no,” I protested. “Roy’s going to fucking kill us.”

“Come on, we already did Jamie’s house.” Keeley pouted. “We’ve gotta do your boyfriend’s house too.” She lit up like a Christmas tree and held up her piece of chalk. “Let’s get to work!”

Giggling and shushing one another like children, we tiptoed up Roy’s driveway and began drawing all over his driveway and walkway. Keeley, classy as always, drew very detailed anatomical pictures, while Rebecca doodled an exaggerated but sweet caricature of Roy. My vandalism was simple: a giant heart with our names inside.

Right as I was adding smaller hearts around my drawing, the door burst open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

All three of us dropped our chalk.

“Run for it!” Keeley squealed, jumping up. “Looking fit Roy!” she called over her shoulder as she sprinted back to our Uber, Rebecca laughing behind her.

Before I could catch up, Roy’s arms wrapped around me. “Gotcha,” he grumbled, giving me a playful squeeze.

I looked up at him, completely drunk and in love. “Hi there.” Despite the number of times I’d slept next to him, I couldn’t help blushing at the sight of him shirtless.

His tired face softened. “What the fuck were you guys doing?” He stifled a yawn.

“Playing a prank,” I admitted. I pointed to the ground. “I drew that one.”

He looked down. “Cute,” he snorted. He glanced across the driveway, where the girls were clambering into the Uber. “You don’t have to go back with them, do you?” He was practically whining, something I’d never heard before.

I kissed his face. “I’ll see you in the morning. Go cuddle Oscar if you miss me so much.”

“But he doesn’t look nearly as fit as you do in my old kits.” He gave me a squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Go on, then. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

As I sat in the back of the car listening to Keeley and Rebecca howl with laughter, I leaned my head back and smiled, feeling drunk and sleepy and lucky and so in love with Roy Kent, who I knew would pick me up in the morning with a smile on his face and a chocolate muffin in his hand.

~

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @sonyume @djarindroid @reading-blogs @thezimi @benedictscanvasmain @wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff @puckyou-forpuckssake @old-enough-to-know-better73 @ladygrey03 @soundofboots @justsomefunshit @geekgirl1996 @tedssweaters @queen-of-dumbasses @miaalltheway @di-essere-amato @shakespeareanwannabe @hotdoglamp @mal-adaptive-dreams @allthetroubleiveseen @netflix-addict @callmecasey81 @forgetmeaway @royalestrellas @kingleahhh @lemoonandlestars @ghxxxf @jill2629-blog @sunderland-6

[andydrysdalerogers]

Troublemaker ~ Six ~ Becoming Uncle Jeremy

He is one of the best goaltenders in the league. He's also hated by his teammates. He didn't mean to be a troublemaker but why not lean into it? There wasn't anyone to stop him.

Until he met her...

A Jeremy Swayman AU x OFC Stella Williams

Story Warnings: excessive drinking, SMUT!, an asshole Jeremy, angst

A/N: Hello and welcome to a spin-off "Cross-Checked" so plenty of characters from that story are crossing over here! If you want a more detailed story of how we ended up here, read the first store HERE Also! The taglist is open. If you want to be added or removed, please let me know!

A/N 2: This chapter coincides with Chapter 20 of Cross Checked! You can read that HERE

Previous: A Proposition

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Life is going great.  

Stella and I have been having a lot of fun. The sex, god the sex is another level phenomenal.  Not to mention, she, as a person, is great. I haven’t felt like this before. And I don’t hate it.  

“How was practice?” Stella asks as she unbuttons my shirt. I’m working her top off, kissing her skin every chance I get.  

“It was good.  That stretch you showed me is working great. Oh fuck,” as she started to kiss my chest. She nibbles and sucks, making me moan, rolling my head back. 

“You like?” She gives me a mischievous smile and fuck does it make me feral. I bend enough to grasp her thighs and pick her up, wind her legs around my waist and carry her into my bedroom. She squeals and giggles but then cups my face to kiss me hard. I spin and hold her against the wall. 

“Are you being bad, sweetheart?” I press my groin into her pussy. I know she can feel it based on the way she moaned.  

“Maybe?” She gives me a shy grin. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” 

“Oh sweetheart, you are playing with fire.” I kiss her hard and then throw her onto my bed. “You want to be bad, then I’ll have to punish you.” I unbutton her jeans and pull them straight off. And holy fuck, she is wearing black lace. Black lace bra, displaying her perfect tits and hi cut black lace panties. I think I may be drooling.  

Get it together Swayman.  I undo my jeans and stalk towards her. I can see her desire but also a hint of fear of what I will do to her. “Nervous, baby?” 

“A little,” she admits. She up on her elbows and I leaned down, moving a strand of her hair.  

“You tell me to stop, baby, and I will, ok?” I looked into her eyes. “I just want to make you feel good.”  

“I trust you,” she says, and I smile. I start to kiss from her ankle up, feeling her squirm, listening to her gasps at the sensations.  

“I’ve been dreaming of you, this pussy, fuck baby, was so hard when I saw you stretching out.” I bypass her panties and move to her torso. Her back arches when I bite under her breast. It lets me get my hand under and snap her bra off. “Can’t wait to get a taste.”  

“Can I taste you?” she asks, rather timidly.  

I look at her, surprised. She looks nervous, scared. “If you aren’t comfortable Stel...” 

“No I am, I just, she bites the corner of her lip, “you’re big and I don’t know if I could take much.”  

I chuckle and shake my head. “However much you want Stel.” She gets up and stands in front of me. “God, you’re beautiful.”  She reached down and pushed my jeans and boxers in one go.  She pushes me to sit, and she kneels before me. She doesn’t say a word, but I lean back on my elbows. “Whatever you want, baby,” I reassure her.  

She takes my cock in her hand and gives it a soft stroke. I closed my eyes at the sensation and let out a moan. She squeezes harder and I roll my head back. “Uh-uh, eyes on me, goalie.” I snap my head back to meet her eyes and I watch as she licks just the tip.  

“Oh, fuck,” I mumble. She giggles before she sucks the tip. My moan is louder. I put my hand on the back of her head, but I don’t force her.  Not yet at least.  She takes more and more of my cock, and I think I have died. She is sucking my soul out of my body. “Fuck, Stella, baby, slow down.”  

I think she just speeds up more because I can feel the tension at the base of my spine. I wrap my fist with her hair and pull her off.  “If you keep sucking me off like that, the evening ends sweetheart.”  

“Aww, but you like it”, she says in a bratty tone while still stroking my cock.  

Fuck it, I know I have a good refraction period, so I tilt her head back. “You don’t want to stop?” She shakes her head. “Then take me all the way, Stella. “I push her head back on my cock and she gags for a second. I pull back slightly, “get me off sweetheart.”  

She double times, swallowing around me, squeezing my dick in her throat. I’m starting to lose it. “Stel... fuck... Baby... I’m going to cum.”  

Stella is evil.  She starts to pump my shaft as she takes me in her mouth and then she sucks hard, and I’m gone. The rush has my ears roaring, and I empty myself down her throat.  She swallows everything and licks me clean. When she leans back, she licks the corners of her mouth. “Delicious.”  

That sets me off.  I pick her up and wrapper her around me again. I don’t have time for any more foreplay. I pull her panties to the side and let my still half hard cock rub through her pussy. “Aren’t you aroused, baby. So wet.” 

This gets her mewling. “Jeremy, please.”  

I’m not ready but I know how I can be. I spin again and drop her on the bed. “Turn over, hands and knees, gorgeous.”  She is slow to get into position so I help and get her ass in the air. I pull off her panties and moan as I see her pussy is slick and warm. I take a taste and she moans from the sensation.  Oh yeah, this is going to get me up. I tease her clit and then her entrance.  

“Please,” she begs. “I can’t...” 

I let her go and tease her now with my now fully hard cock. “You are perfection, sweetheart,” I tell her before sinking my entire length in her. Her back arch as she took me. “Christ, Stella, fucking tight and so goddamn warm.” I take it easy the first few strokes into her, making sure she is adjusted before I slowly drag my cock out of her. She gasps as she feels every inch of my along her walls.  

“Jer, fuck, what are you...ahh!” She screams as I slam into her and start to fuck her like I hate her. I give her everything. Stella is sobbing as I rail her.  

One cry has me stopping, fuck did I hurt her. “Stel?” 

“No! Don’t stop!” she cries and I restart my movements. But I need to kiss her. I lift her on her toros and throw one arm around her waist and the other to tilt her head to me. I kiss her hard as I continue to move inside her. “Jer, I’m gonna...”  

“Let go, gorgeous, take me with you,” I growl out.  I can feel that I am about to reach my end when the final thrust into her sets her off. Her pussy is squeezing me so tight and I cum so hard I feel like I black out for a moment. I let us fall but, on our sides, so I don’t have to leave her just yet. I kiss her neck and shoulders as she takes her time to come back. “So beautiful,” I whisper.  

“I’m calling the police,” she replies. She turns her head to look at me. “I’m positive that this is attempted murder.” I bark out a loud laugh at my crazy girl.  

Death by orgasm, what a way to go.  

It’s the middle of the second period against Tampa and I’m nursing a shutout. The whole team has been on their game, especially Andy.  He has a deep vendetta against one of their forwards, Craig Bailey. While Andy has found the love of his life in Leia, he had previously been engaged to another woman, Fiona. Together for three years, Andy assumed it was for forever.  Until he found Fiona bouncing on Craig’s dick.  

Needless to say, that shit show ended quickly.  Both relationships were terminated on the spot and Andy moved into the house he bought for Fiona and Leia moved in soon after when her own relationship blew up. I should have taken that as a sign but here we are.  Anyway, Bailey got traded to Tampa, much to Andy’s joy and Fiona dumped Bailey because she didn’t want to leave Boston. She ended up in New York and thank god for that because she is the worst kind of person.  

But Craig, well, we would have to see him twice a season when we play Tampa.  This is our second game against them and luckily, it is at home.  The first time we saw them, Andy was able to give a beautiful check that got Craig sent to the locker room and no penalty. Beauty.  But tonight, I think Bailey is out for blood.  And he chose me. 

I’m watching the play develop with Bailey’s line out on the ice. They try to deke to my right but shot left. Losers, I saw that coming a mile away.  I snatch the puck midair and play stops.  Everyone skates around the net as the referee moves to reset. Bailey skates by. “I heard you were dating Leia.”  

“No, I’m not.  She’s with Andy now.” Fucker is trying to get under my skin, I know it.  

“Saw that coming,” he scoffed.  “What about her friend? Is she still single? I would have tapped that if I could have while I was here.”  He looks at me. “What was her name again?  Stella, I think. Is she single?” 

He couldn’t have known what the reaction was going to be.  Our relationship is ours alone, but it doesn’t stop me from seeing red as he continues working his mouth. 

“Yeah, she has a banging body.  I am here for the night so maybe I’ll look her up.”  He skates away for the faceoff, and it is taking everything in me to focus on the game.  I huff and reset my stance.  

The puck drops and their center passes the puck to Craig who tried to shoot but I poke check it away. The next shot is in the netting, and I stand to get stretched just a bit.  Craig skates back. “Are you going to tell me if Stella is single?” 

“No,” I say in a growl. “Leave our team alone. Besides, I’m pretty sure that you of all people are not welcome here anymore after what you did to my captain. Fuck off.” I shoved him away from me.   

Craig’s face turns another shade of red and moves back to his position.  They drop the puck and Tampa sets up their play.  They get it to Craig, their best shooter, and I think he’s going to let it fly but instead I see him skating in.   He flies around the defense and finds a gap to me. Fuck, this is going to suck but I crouch into position.  But instead of letting the puck go, he keeps moving.  

Into me.  

I’m thrown back from the force of his body into mine and I fall back uncontrollably. And the back of my helmet hits the ice, and everything goes black.  

Why does everything look so bright? 

Why is my head pounding? 

What was I doing? 

I blink and I can see the head trainer, Phil and Stella looking down at me. “Jeremy, can you hear me?” Phil asks. 

“Yeah, but everything hurts,” I mutter. I move to stand but the world spin,  

“Whoa big guy,” Stella says, steadying me. “Jeremy, you have a concussion, so you need to move slow or you’re going to throw up on the ice.”  

  “What happened?” Phil and Stella help me to a sitting position as I hear clapping from the crowd.  

“We’ll explain later.” Stella waived over a couple of my teammates. Andy and Brad moved to help me to my feet and pushed me towards the gate. Linus pats me on the back as he moves to take my spot in the net. I make it to the bench and Stella and Phil guide me to the locker room. I sit as Stella looks into my eyes.  

My eyes move to the monitor to check on the game. A pair of fingers snap twice in my face. “Hey, eyes on me, goalie.” She smiles at me, cheeks flushing a soft pink, because she can remember when she said that to me as she blew me. But I’m having a hard time moving my mouth. “Jeremy, how are you feeling?” 

“Well,” I say slowly, “there are two of you.”  

“Shit,” she mutters. “Okay, big guy, let’s get you out of the pads and to the hospital.”  

I want to joke about the fact that she’s stripping me, but there are really two of her right now and I’m not sure who I need to direct my questions to. Phil and Stella get me out of the pads as the paramedics come in with a wheelchair. I’m left in my compression clothes which is not at all embarrassing since you know I started to sport a semi when I could breathe in Stella as she examined me.  

“Wait!” she yells out.  She has a pair of Bruins sweats I keep in my dry locker. She helps me put the sweats on as Phil talks to the paramedics. “I’ll be by to see you soon, ok?” She whispers to me. “You look a little green.” 

“I’m a little nervous,” I tell her. What if this is worse than she thinks? Suddenly, I’m panicking. I take a shallow breath. 

“Hey, it's gonna be ok. I promise,” she tells me. She looks and sees everyone has their backs to us. She kisses me softly. “I’ll see you soon.”  

A Grade One concussion later and Linus is settling me back in my apartment. No lights, no loud noises and I’m out for 10 days at least.  The double vision is gone but the headache is going strong. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok ?” Linus asks for the tenth time.  

“Dude, the alarms are set for every two hours. I take my pain meds with the next alarm.  I have five different water bottles here. There is only one of you now, so I think I’m ok.” I give him a smile. “Thank you for taking care of me.”  

“You had me scared, Jer. But I’m glad it was just your brain.” I chuckled and shoo him away. I lay back as the silence takes over. I was lucky, it could have been worse.  As I start to allow the darkness of sleep to take over, I hear someone opening the door.  

“Linus, I’m fine,” I call out.  Fuck, too loud. I close my eyes, hoping that if he sees me sleeping he’ll go away.  

“You guys still cuddling,” a voice asks and I smile.  

“Worried about me?”  

Stella crawls into bed and sits against the headboard. I put my head in her lap, and she started to run her fingers through my hair. “You scared me, babe.”  

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I grab her palm and kiss it. “I didn’t mean too.”  

“I know.” She keeps her fingers moving.  “Craig got tossed.  Looks like a suspension.”  

“I don’t care,” I say sleepily.  

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be right here.”  

I’m bored.  

So bored.  

The team, including Stella are on a road trip.  Since day ten is at the end of the trip, I’m alone. Only Linus’s wife comes by to drop off food and make sure I’m not dead.   

I’m watching some television now that my head no longer feels like it wants to fall off. I just want to get to the end of this recovery.  I have three more days. I find a marathon of some talk show when my cell phone rings.  I check and am surprised at the caller.” Leia?” 

“Jeremy, please tell me you’re at home and you can drive?” 

I furrow my brow. “Oh yeah.”  

“Oh good. Because I’m home alone and my water just broke.”  

The fuck did she say? 

“Your water broke?” 

“Yeah, I think I’m in labor and I’m five weeks early.” I can hear the heavy breathing through the phone. “Please help me.”  

I stood up and ran for my keys. “I’m on the way.”  

This was not on my bingo card this year.  

I jump in my car and race to Andy and Leia’s.  I knock but the door opens.  “Leia?” 

“In here,” she calls from upstairs.  The woman is in labor and she’s upstairs.  Can’t be easy right? 

I take two stairs at a time and see Leia bent over the bed and breathing hard. I come up behind her and rub her back.  “Breathe, Leia.”  After a moment, she tries to stand. “Are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” she huffs. “That was the longest one so far.” She looks at me and I can see the pain in her eyes and the sweat on her brow. “I need to get to the hospital, and I can’t get a hold of Andy or Stella or my brother.” I can see she wants to cry.  

“Ok, I’ll call coach or the GM and get a hold of them. Let’s get you down the stairs and to the car, ok?” She nods before pointing to a bag on the floor.  

“I need that.”  

“I got it.” Then I take her hands and help her down.  Right in the middle, she gets hit with another contraction and withers.  I take hold of her as she grips my shirt. “It hurts,” she cries.  

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. Just breathe it out, ok? In one, two three four, out two, three, four.”  The contraction passes and I get her into the car.  I use the bluetooth and call Coach.  

“Swayman, I’m kinda...” 

“Andy’s girl is in labor. Leia is in labor and I’m taking her to Boston General.” 

“Holy... ok hang on. Barber, Andrews!” I can hear Coach skate towards them.  “Get your shit together and get to the airport.  Leia is in labor.”   

“But she’s early,” I hear Andy say.  

“Just go,” Coach orders. “Jeremy is driving her there.”  I don’t hear anything from the guys.  “Sway, keep us updated.” 

“Will do Coach.”  I hung up and looked at Leia. “You ok?”  

“I’m fine just uncomfortable. Jeremy, please don’t leave me.”  

I take her hand. “I’m right here, every step of the way.” 

I raced to the emergency room and get Leia out of the car.  As we walk, she grasps my hand. “Holy Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as she squeezes the hell out of my hand.  

“I’m sorry,” I hear her squeak.  

“No, Leia, it’s fine. See, if I keep my hand in this shape, maybe it will help me catch better.” I don’t want to tell her I think my hand is broken.  

Once she’s settled in her room, I take a seat by her and take her hand. “Right here, ok?” She nods just as another one hits. Most of her strength is going into her other hand, clutching the hand railing. “Breathe, Leia.” I mimic what I’ve seen on television shows, and she copies me. It passes and she lies back.  

“Jeremy, I never told you that I forgive you.” She looks at me with shiny eyes. “I lied and that hurt you and you hurt me. Stella said she talked to you during lifting sessions, and she said that you regretted hurting me.”  

I swallow. “Every day, Leia. I am still so sorry for hurting you the way I did.”  

“I know,” she says.  She cups my cheek. “Thank you for being here with me. I feel like I can count you as one of my best friends. Is that ok?” 

I smile. “Yeah, that’s ok.” I see another contraction build and she closes her eyes. “It’s ok, breathe in and out. You got this.  One of the strongest woman I know,” I tell her.  

It's a few hours later and I’m sitting with Luke in the waiting room.  Leia had to have an emergency c-section. That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever witnessed.  But after she delivered, they kicked me out so they could finish.  That’s where I found Luke.  We sat in silence.  

“Thank you,” he finally said. “Thank you for taking care of her.”  

“Of course, man.”  Then the doors swung open, and Andy walked out holding a little pink bundle.  “Guys, meet my daughter,” he said with teary pride.  

Luke took the bundle and cooed at his niece. I peeked over his shoulder. “She’s beautiful Andy. Congratulations.”  

“Thanks Jer. Fuck, thanks for being here with her.” He shook my hand before he pulled me into a hug. “I was calm because I knew she was in good hands.”  He wipes the tears from his eyes.  “Wanna hold her, Uncle Jeremy?” 

I take the little miracle in my arms. She’s got her mama’s hair and looks like Leia. I can’t help but smile and kiss her forehead.  

“Welcome to the world, Avery Nora Barber.”  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

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@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

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@peaceinourtime82

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[toxicanonymity]

Laid back (one-shot)

Words: 2.5k | Paring: Corey Cunningham x Reader

EDIT: technically no longer a one-shot: Laid Back 2

Summary: You comfort Corey after a rough day and give him a special HJ in a special position.

Notes: Fun request from @ethanhoewke based on a post by @futurewife about wanting to please Corey in a specific position. My first time writing fluffy good-guy smut. More notes at end.

Thanks for reading!

Explicit Content. 18+ No Minors

Corey is such a sweetheart.  Things got rough for him after the accident, and you worried about him. It was painful seeing him suffer.  You made sure he knew he could always come to you if he needed someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, or  just someone to hang out with. It started out as a friendship between you.  

You watched movies, cooked together, and sometimes just talked for hours.  Your house became another place for him to call home – somewhere without judgment or his mother’s constant badgering.  You started keeping your fridge stocked with his favorite brand of chocolate milk and even tried to learn how to make custard.  Your heart always fluttered around him, and you felt like he might feel it too, but knowing he was okay was the most important thing to you, and you didn’t want to mess that up.  

Eventually though, having spent a lot of time alone together, the inevitable happened.  Soon you were cuddled up together watching movies: first on the sofa, then in your bed.  You kissed and explored each other, and things became intimate.   It feels so right with Corey, like you’re two parts of the same person.  Like you belong together.  

You enjoy being his refuge.  You enjoy the company, too, since you live alone.  He comes over most nights now. When he’s not there, you miss him.  You get the feeling you'd see a lot more of him if it weren't for his mother. 

-

Today, on your way home, you saw Corey get bullied, and it broke your heart.  He has bullies of all ages.  Sometimes it’s adults, sometimes it’s kids who are still in school.  He can’t catch a break.  When you saw him on the side of the road today, dejected, walking his bike, head held low, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as a group of teenagers jeered at him, you knew you wanted to do something special for him. You offered him a ride, but he got back on his bike and said he’d come over later.

When Corey gets to your place, his posture is still dejected, and he’s got an oversized trucker jacket over a cable knit sweater and jeans.  None of it fools you -  there’s a hard, husky body under there and a guy who loves to please.  You always get excited when you see him.  You watch his big hands on the handlebars as he parks his bicycle on your front porch.  You want his hands all over you, but you’ve already decided today isn’t about you.  It’s about making him feel special.  

He perks up a little as he approaches you.  You invite him in with a sweet kiss, your hands around his brawny neck. He smiles against your mouth and it feels like heaven. Even after a day like today, he can’t help but smile.  

You grab him a chocolate milk and cozy up on the couch with your feet folded under you and your knees against Corey’s leg.  He rests a massive hand on your knee and you ask him about his day.  You don’t want to tell him you saw the incident, but you hope he’s comfortable telling you if he wants to talk about it.  He says, “You know, I don’t know what people want sometimes.  I don’t know why they don’t move on.”  He sounds defeated.  

You say, “I know hun,” and rub his back. You listen until he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.  Then you say, “Hey, I’m kinda cold.” 

He starts to take off his jacket to give to you - such a sweetheart.  You love to watch his thick arms emerge from a jacket.  You don’t put it on, though.  “Wanna go upstairs? It’s warmer”

“Wherever you want.  I just wanna be with you,” he says, and you interlace your fingers with his and lead him upstairs.

"See? It's almost too warm up here," you say and he agrees. 

He takes off his shoes and you pile some pillows up on your bed.  You lie back on the pillows and spread your legs with your knees up.  You pat the bed between your legs to show him his seat.   “I’m the big spoon today,” you say. He smiles shyly and pushes up his glasses. 

“K,” he says. “You can be whatever spoon you want.  I’m lucky to even be in the same drawer." He smiles cheesily.

"Oh my god," you laugh. His shy smile makes you glow.  "Get over here." You pull off your jeans.  

He lays back in between your legs with his jeans still on, at first. "Yeah, it's warm up here," he says as he scoots forward and his hands go to his belt. The sound of the leather belt sliding out of his jeans has a pavlovian effect.  Between that and his ass flexing as he takes them off, your underwear moistens. 

He leaves his boxer briefs on and scoots back into you.  Your legs spread wider to make room.  It’s a pleasant stretch for your inner thighs.  His vast torso more than covers yours and you enjoy his weight against you as he leans back.  Corey's back drives you mad.  You long to see his rippling muscles, but today it's enough to have his cozy sweater against you.  

His curly head is leaned against one side of your face, and his hair smells clean.  His sweater smells like a combination of musk, motor oil, and a hint of aftershave.  You inhale his masculinity.  It’s your favorite smell in the world.  Your core is hot with affection and desire. 

You stroke his imposing arms gently through his sweater and he begins to relax more.  You rest your chin on his shoulder, leaning your head against his hardy neck and jaw.   You behold his sturdy thighs bulging out from under his boxer briefs, fading from white to tan.  You slip your hands under his arms and hug his very solid torso. 

Your hands migrate down to his hefty thighs. As you stroke both his thighs, he moans lightly and cranes his head to smell and kiss your neck.  Your lips meet his for a soft kiss.  Your hand slides up his thigh to his groin, lightly massaging his paler, more sensitive skin and feeling fine, curly hair under your fingers.  

His boxer briefs swell, and he adjusts them.  “Why don’t you take those off?” you say.

“Are you sure?” he asks.  He knows you're sure, but he’s always a gentleman.  

“Please”  He removes his boxer briefs so he’s naked from the waist down but still wearing his sweater, black socks, and brown, plastic-framed glasses. Your heart is pounding.   

Before he settles back into you, he pauses and says “Yours?” with a hopeful smirk.  

You smile and pull off your own underwear.  You watch his member over his shoulder. satisfaction is visible as he nestles back between your legs.   You’re throbbing and wonder if he’ll be able to feel your wetness.  With Corey’s expansive back against you, and his curly head in the crook of your neck, you look down over his shoulder and admire his thick manhood against his lower abs.  Everything about him is so meaty. Sometimes it seems like you’re the only one who knows.  He’s a delicious buffet of man, and he’s all yours.  

He adjusts his hardening package as though to acknowledge the elephant in the room.  You say “Allow me. Just sit back and relax."  You hook your legs over his then let yours fall outward a little, spreading his thighs and keeping them open.  Below his thickening member, you can see his balls, and just barely, a bit of his ass. 

First, you hold his warm shaft in your hand and just enjoy the feeling of it growing against you.  You whisper “God I love your cock,” and it swells against your palm.  There’s never been a truer statement, either.  You're very wet, but you'll have to take care of it later.   He puts his lips to your neck, then your mouth.  Your lips meet his hungrily, and your tongues greet each other.  You kiss his neck and tell him, "You can watch." 

He looks you in the eye through his glasses and smiles shyly.  He stops craning his neck and dutifully watches your hand on his cock.  His breath is slow, and he’s a little flushed.  You watch his chest rise and fall. He adjusts his glasses.  He puts his hands on your knees, and massages your thighs.  

Now he’s rock hard and some pre-cum is pearling.  You collect it with your thumb and swirl it around his cock-head as lube as you begin to lightly stroke him.  You’re getting so wet.  You reach between you to your wetness to supply some more lubricant.  He groans as you bring your glistening hand to his cock.  

You gently massage the tip of his cock in short short strokes, moving your fingers over the ledge of the head and back.  His breath grows heavier.  You close your hand at the top and palm the tip.  He whines. Then you curl your thumb and all your fingers around him and gently stroke the shaft.  Your stroke grows a little firmer and his mouth opens.  He closes his eyes in pleasure for a moment, then watches again.

Corey’s hips begin lifting gently, rhythmically, while keeping his legs butterflied with your legs between his.  It’s a soft, slow thrust into your grip.  His knees dip toward the bed each time. You tell him he can just sit back and relax, but he can’t stop his hips moving, at least ever so slightly. 

“You’re so hot,” he says.  He reaches both his huge hands behind you, palms  up, and slides them under your butt.  Each cheek is engulfed by a massive palm.  His meaty fingers squeeze you.  He sighs “Ahh, you feel so good.” 

You stroke the entire length of his cock from the base of the shaft to the tip of the head.  It’s a stretch to reach both your arms around him at once, but you use your other hand to cup his balls as you continue stroking while he continues to thrust gently and relatively slowly.  It’s so hot that he can’t help it.  His cock is so hard.  He brings his hands out from under you and back to your thighs, and you let go of his balls.  His enormous hands look so hot on your thighs. 

God, the width of his fingers.  He massages your thighs as his pelvis keeps moving, his knees dipping toward the bed.  You keep stroking him and bring your other hand under his sweater and undershirt to caress a nipple, which hardens instantly. Yours do, too.  His breath becomes ragged, and you’re throbbing down there.  You find yourself trying to grind into his ass. 

“I want you,” he breathes. “But I dunno if we have time.”  He’s getting close.  

“Later,” you say, and kiss his neck.  That was the answer he needed to stop holding back. He thrusts a little stronger into your hand.  He turns his head to kiss and suck at your throat.  He breathes hotly against your neck, then turns his head again to watch what you’re doing to him.   

A bit more pre-cum seeps from his cockhead.  You slide your hand from his nipple to his lower torso to pull his sweater out of the way.   With your thumb hooked outside the sweater to keep it lifted, you flatten your fingers together and feel his lower abdomen.  You can feel how hard and muscular he is. He moans, “Oh, God.”

He grips your thighs and his pelvis jerks upward.  A milky rope shoots out several inches into the air in slow motion.  You continue stroking for a moment longer, with a light touch. The next rope gushes out more like molten lava.  You hold your hand still.  Two more spurts and his body relaxes.

The feeling of his dead weight against you is like the strongest, most effortless hug. You shift just slightly so you can breathe, but most of his weight is still on you.  Emptying his cock into your hand really turned you on.  You’re twitching, but what’s more important to you is that Corey seems happy and relaxed, and you want to savor this moment. “That was amazing,” he says.  “I don’t deserve you.”  

“Don’t say that,” you remind him.  “You do.  We deserve each other, in the best way.”  

You lie there together and he looks so vulnerable nude from the waist down.  You feel grateful that he opens up to you the way he does. It’s a special feeling to be his safe place.  You clean up with a tissue and pull a blanket over you both.  You wrap your arms under his, around his torso.  He nuzzles his curly hair back into you and takes your hands - they feel so small and safe in his. 

Eventually, he turns over so he’s face-down half on top of you, and one of his legs is between yours. He presses his perfect nose and lips into your neck.  Then he looks you in the eyes and kisses your lips sweetly, almost appreciatively.  He puts his head on your shoulder.  His thigh is in a perfect position for your own needs, but your lovey-dovey hormones win over your “fuck me fuck me” ones, for the moment. You doze off together.   

When the sun sets through the window, you stir half-awake.  You’re in almost the same position you fell asleep in.  You must have dreamt about fucking him, because your whole body aches to be filled with his.  Your skin is humming.  Even your nose and the space between your eyes. You gently grind yourself into his hip bone and find you’re already close to coming.  You rub yourself against his hot, sturdy body, hoping not to wake him or break out of your own horny, hypnagogic state.  

He begins to stir, and his hip and thigh press further into you.  You pulsate your hips quickly but gently and your breath hitches as you reach your climax.  Pleasure shoots through your core.  Your whole body tenses, you ride several waves, and you audibly sigh.  His curls and nose move against you.  He turns his face up toward yours, looks at you with sleepy, watery eyes, and shyly smiles.  He hugs you tight and you hope he never lets go.  

-

More of my Corey Cunningham Smut

[trashbag-baby666]

Kiss Goodnight-Bradley Bradshaw.

Summary: My oneshot for the Love Is In The Air event 🫶🏻. Bradley couldn’t imagine his life any other way without you.

WC: 2,277.

C/W: Arguing and implied sex.

Link To My TGM Masterlist!

Additional Notes: Link To Song Kiss Goodnight by IDKHow But They Found Me.

~No, I don't care

About anything at all

But I still stop and stare

Every time that you call~

Bradley literally couldn't believe he lived a life without you before he met you. Because as soon as he met you as you worked a far too long shift at the Hard Deck.

You assumed he probably would just be a misogynistic pig like most the other men who came in here.

Your long hair in a messy manor held up in a claw clip. As you bustled around the bar.

Bradley waited patiently for it to be settled down, he also needed to brave himself up a bit. You were utterly the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

You smiled and were nice to the people who even gave you a bit of an attitude for being busy. Your denim jean shorts clung to your hips and your tie dye Hard Deck shirt tucked in.

"What can I get ya?" You walked over taking a deep breathe as you leaned against the bar.

"Whatever is on tap is fine," Bradley shrugged taking his wallet out of his pocket.

"Navy huh?" You handed him the glass full of the golden liquid.

"Oh, uh yeah. Naval Aviator." Bradley hummed as he saw you glance at his military ID.

"Nice, place gets filled with plenty of you guys." You sighed finally getting a break as it slowed down. You took the cash from Bradley putting it in the register drawer.

You and Bradley would talk the rest of the night. He was swooning for you hard, his cheeks bright red.

You agreed to go on a date by the time everyone had filed out for the night.

~ See, I know that girls like you

They don't come with guarantees

So if you've got to spend your time

Oh, won't you spend it with me?~

Bradley had found out you were literally the most wonderful person he'd ever met.

Always putting everyone before yourself, not always a good quality but you knew how to handle it.

You guys found spending time on the beach was both a favorite of yours when it came to dates.

You'd set up two lounge chairs for the both of you, big sunglasses perched on your nose, a sundress covering your red bikini Bradley loved so much.

You'd wait for him to come from work to your house on the beach. You'd be sitting on the lounger reading your book. He'd come out the back door in his board shorts and his open Hawaiian shirt. You'd turn and tilt your sunglasses down. Oh, and Bradley would swoon hard. He was falling head over heals he could feel himself tumbling down for you.

Anytime either of you had off of work you'd hang out on the beach, play the piano at the Hard Deck, drink together, you met his friends and would come play Dog Fight football with them.

There wasn't anyone in the entire world he'd rather spend his time with than you.

~I hope we kiss goodnight

It might just end my life

But if you think that it's right, right, right

I hope we kiss goodnight

I hope we kiss goodnight~

Next thing you knew it was Christmas in San Diego. You didn't have family in the area as you'd moved for fun and fell in love with the place.

Bradley invited you to Christmas with his Uncle who was continently married to Penny.

You were more than happy to go, someone to spend the holidays with. Sure, Penny was your boss but she was your first friend in the area as you got the job being the other bar tender at the Hard Deck the week after you moved.

You sat cuddled next to Bradley in Pennys living room as they shared gifts with each others.

"There's one left and it's for y/n." Mav handed the box to you.

"Thank you," you smiled and saw it was from Bradley, "You didn't have to get me anything!"

"You didn't have to get me anything either and you did." Bradley nudged you, "Now open it."

You unwrapped the small box and opened it. Inside it contained a charm bracelet, there was a plane charm, a B charm then a heart then a charm with the first letter of your name on it.

"Oh my god Bradley." You looked at it, "This is beautiful!"

"You can add more to it!" Bradley smiled as you hugged him tight. You peppered his face and neck in kisses.

"Ew," Amelia giggled and threw a ball of wrapping paper at the two of you. You giggled and set the bracelet on the side table and returned the ball of paper.

"Oh this is on!" Amelia jumped up as all of you guys started throwing paper at each other.

Later that night you and Bradley had gone back to your house. He never really had you over as he was living in a bachelor pad that doubled as his gross military base housing. (IFYKYK).

You and Bradley had just been laying in your bed together.

Sending each other stupid tik toks. You let out a loud yawn and set your phone down.

"I'm going to bed Bradley." You snuggled further into the light grey comforter.

"Goodnight darlin'." Bradley kissed your forehead.

"No give me a real Kiss Goodnight!" You pouted.

Bradley giggled and met his lips with yours.

After a moment you pulled away, "Now Goodnight Bradley."

"Goodnight y/n." You felt so safe in his touch, suddenly you couldn't even imagine a life before Bradley.

~Should you invite me in

To spend the night on the floor?

Oh, please believe I'll be a gentleman

Or you can show me the door~

Things can't stay perfect forever, the arguments began. They were stupid, over petty things. How Bradley put things in the dish washer, how'd you never seemed to get your clothes in your laundry basket.

"Fine! Leave then if you don't like it like this! This is my house anyways!" You yelled at him throwing your hands up in the air.

Bradley just scoffed and grabbed his keys off the kitchen island. You sniffed as the tears fell the moment the door shut.

You were so in love with him and you didn't want to fight with him.

But these stupid things kept getting blown out of proportion for both of you.

It started raining as the sunset, April rain was some of your favorite. But it wasn't as enjoyable without Bradley here to enjoy it with.

Sometimes you'd hope for rain so Top Gun would ground the aviators and Bradley could stay with you.

You guys would open the back deck sliding door and shut the screen. You loved the sound of the rain hitting the back patio, the thunder rolling on the sea, you loved it all so much but you loved him more than anything.

You made yourself dinner and ate alone with some company of tik tok. After cleaning dinner up you sighed to yourself and poured yourself a glass of wine and walked to the living room sitting down. You flipped on the TV and opened Netflix. Then there was a loud bang of thunder and flash of lightning. It lit up everything as if it was the middle of the day. Then on cue the power went out.

You jumped as this all happened over mere seconds. The transformer box probably blew in your neighborhood and the power company would have to come in the morning.

You took a long sip from your wine glass and set it on the coffee table. You got up and began lighting candles. Not long was there a knock at your door.

You rolled your eyes and walked to the door peeking through the window by the door.

Why was Bradley back.

"What?" You assert yourself as you opened the door.

"My power went out, I was wondering if yours did to." Bradley sighed looking down as it was obvious it had. His brown hair covered by a baseball hat.

"Yeah," you breathed out.

"Can I uh. Can I sleep on your couch tonight? It's kind of a little of a drive back to base." Bradley began.

"Yeah, sure." You stepped out of the doorway dismissing yourself back to the living room. Bradley sat on the bench in the mud room and removed his dirtied converse and jacket.

He walked in sitting on the other end of the couch setting his hat on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I just. I sometimes just need to vent about my issues instead of taking them out on you." Bradley sighed rubbing his face.

"No I'm sorry for being hard on you sometimes too." You sighed looking over at him.

"I always had a hard time expressing my emotions growing up. With y'know my dad dead and my mom having cancer it was just hard to struggle and stress." He explained.

"No it's okay, I just sometimes get a little too controlling and it's not okay." You got up and sat next to him taking his hand and rubbing it. You knew he had issues with not bottling up his emotions to keep other people happy. Then it resulting in having total blow outs.

You had your own issues, you'd had to take care of your younger siblings growing up. So the stress of everything needing to be clean and done a certain way got to you.

That night you two talked through your issues. You were happy he'd came back and you were able to talk more about everything.

~While all my friends and I

Leaf through the books on your shelves

No, I don't want to spend my life

With anyone else~

Your birthday was coming up, Bradley was at a loss of what to get you. He asked you a few times what you wanted, you insisted he didn't have to get you anything and just his presence was enough.

Bradley didn't buy that for a second he needed to get you something.

Bradley had more or less moved in with you at this point. You were at work and he brought over Hangman, Bob, and Phoenix to kind of help him figure something out.

Phoenix was close with you she knew you loved to read. She didn't know exactly what kind of books you liked but this was perfect.

Phoenix leaned against the white book cases in the living room and looked through them.

Lots of romance, lots of tragedy, lots of classics.

"Get her some books Bradshaw!" Phoenix called from the living room.

"Then you gotta help me," Bradley came from the kitchen.

So Bradley planned out your birthday perfectly as he could. Phoenix helped him pick out a new outfit for you.

Bradley made you coffee and breakfast in bed, suggested his date idea. You had some good morning birthday shower sex. Then he surprised you with said new outfit.

Bradley took you out for coffee and bought you new books at a cute little book store downtown.

You were so happy and excited. He was happy to treat you on what he considered the most important day of the year.

~Why don't we kiss goodnight?

It might just end my life

But I'm pretty sure that it's right, right, right

Why don't we kiss goodnight?

Why don't we kiss goodnight?~

Why don't we kiss goodnight?

It might just end my life

I'm pretty sure that it's right, right, right

Now we can kiss goodnight~

Then it finally came, you and Bradley's many late nights together on the beach watching the sun go down. Bradley felt the little box in his pocket and knew it was almost time.

As both of you stumbled down the beach happy and giddy over just getting to exist together.

You paused for a moment and just looked out as the sun was setting. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

"I don't know how I got lucky," Bradley smiled, "Must've pleased the right gods."

"I'm happy that you were brought to me." You giggled. Bradley knew it was time he reached for the box and got on one knee.

"Y/N Y/L/N...I don't know how we got so lucky to exist in this huge universe at the same time. But I'm so glad we did. I'm so glad I went to the bar that night and had enough courage to ask you out. I couldn't even imagine anyone else that could be as perfect as you are. So will you please, please, please...marry me." Bradley held the box open with one hand your hand in his others.

"Yes," was the only thing you could manage to get out through happy tears. Bradley stood up and picked you up spinning you around. He set you down putting the ring on your finger.

"I love you," Bradley kissed the top of your head.

You guys didn't wait long to get married. Just doing something short and sweet for just your guy's family. It couldn't be more perfect for either of you, it was everything you could ever ask for.

Every night Bradley would kiss you Goodnight and you couldn't imagine it being anyone else. You couldn't imagine living your life anyway else.

Life without Bradley seemed unrealistic and a life not worth living.

He felt the same for you.

~I don't want to spend my life, life

Without your kiss goodnight

Yeah, for the rest of my life, life, life

I need your kiss goodnight

I hope we kiss goodnight~

[mirrorpriest]

cw: yandere, dark content, no explicit violence

Monster-behaviorist Reader who goes out of their way to see the good in everything and everyone. Who is perhaps naive but good-hearted. Perhaps Reader travels around Teyvat, never feeling at home or at peace, studying all the varying unique creatures. Independently publishing research on monsters, asserting that they’re not as simple as people seem to think they are. Particularly defensive of hilichurls and gets flustered when trying to argue with people.

This, of course, leaves them desperate for connection and friends. :)

Aether is quickly taken with your impassioned pleas for lighter treatment of his usual foes. It doesn’t stop him from doing what needs to be done, but after going into the Chasm with Dainsleif, he has a different outlook on Teyvat and the creatures he thought he once understood. Every time he fights all he can think of is your disappointed face, your soft reprimands, your gentle hands. It curbs his more aggressive impulses when it comes to enemies, but eventually he starts to think of you even when he’s not fighting. He thinks about how defenseless you are, so willing to trust, and how you are probably out there somewhere in the countryside putting yourself in danger for your research. Don’t mind him if he ‘runs in’ to you out of nowhere. He wasn’t looking for you, but now that he’s found you Aether might just have to stick close by. He’s willing to share your attention with creatures who could never return your affections, but if anyone else becomes too interested in you he may just have to strong arm them into keeping their distance. You’ve monopolized so much of his attention, the least you could do is give him yours in return.

Kaeya is enamored with your sweet, open demeanor. It’s not often someone is so disarmed. Even the most defenseless person has their guard up some of the time, but you want so badly to see good in the world you’re willing to put yourself in danger for it. He can see the way you mourn the distance between yourself and others, othered by your own soft heart. It’s something Kaeya admires and intends to take full advantage of. While he comes across as sly and opportunistic to those that know him, you are more willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. It makes him want to devour you whole. He will take you along on missions just to have some alone time with you, giving you time to study the creatures you spot along the way and listening patiently to your long-winded, breathless explanations on their behavior. You feel grateful to have someone who will humor your interest, all too willing to put your life in his hands because you trust him. He’s so helpful, willing to go the extra mile for his companions, there’s no reason to be suspicious of him. Kaeya is so good and kind and respected, he would never abuse your trust. He wants you to remain naive and understanding, open to outsiders, just not where other people can partake. Perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he wants your wordy lectures and passionate diatribes all to himself. He wants to swim in your words and feel your arms around him, ever so gentle and benevolent. You’re such a breath of fresh air. Surely, if he sucks up all your time and energy you won’t hold it against him.

Jean feels so incredibly protective of you. Of course, she was born to protect. Blessed to defend the innocent. But you’re particularly special. You’re far too soft and selfless, all tender touch and big heart. At least that’s the way she sees it. Who else would go out of their way to defend even the most wicked of creatures? As she sees it, your heart is full to bursting with love for all. Which is both admirable and annoying. If only you would put your own safety first, stay in Mondstadt where it’s mundane, never leave her line of sight. She doesn’t mind if other Mondstadters don’t appreciate your efforts, in fact it’s better for her. The more space between you and others, the safer you are. No one else can influence you if they can’t even understand you. Jean makes it a point to mention the library is always open to you, no matter the time of day. She doesn’t mean to push and pry, but she’s anxious to have you near her at all times. It’s safer, she reasons to herself, and she trusts Lisa to take care of you and report every move you make to her. She tries not to spend too much time seeing you personally, though, because Jean can’t keep the flush off her face and the affection out of her voice. You’ve affected her so intensely. It’s only right that she might be a bit overprotective of her future spouse. <3

Amber thought you were fussy and high-strung at first. Why should she care to spare hilichurls when they’re so aggressive and wild? She’s not cruel by any means, but Amber thinks everything you advocate for is just to be contrary. It takes her but a short time to warm up to you, seeing the way you so painstakingly wait and watch even the most ordinary of hydro slime go about their day. You look so comfortable observing Teyvat’s creatures, so nurturing as you note even the smallest of differences between the hilichurls you see today versus the ones you saw yesterday. You might be a quack but there’s something so warm and compassionate in your expression, the barest of smiles upon your lips. Amber is suddenly overcome with the desire to run her fingers over your smile. It only gets worse from there. Your research is at least helpful when it comes to keeping citizens safe, helping the Knights predict where hilichurls will move next and what to routes are safest to traverse. Amber can’t help wanting to be just a bit… uncomfortably close to the nutty researcher keeping Mondstadt safe. As an Outrider it’s certainly not weird if she hangs around your apartment balcony, checking for easy access. Your room overwhelmingly smells of you, your desk covered in half-finished documents and wilderness journals. She’s so tempted to visit at night and crawl into bed with you, if only to see your peaceful sleeping face up close.

Lisa finds you rather cute. Not many people in Mondstadt can keep her interest, they’re admittedly not educated enough for her, but you are well-versed enough in all her favorite topics. Speaking with you just comes easy and it helps that you are of a sympathetic nature. It’s easy to waste hours with you simply talking, her tired eyes soaking up your soft face in the evening sun. Your compassionate position towards monsters is rather troublesome, but that’s what makes you so endearing. Oftentimes, she comes across as more patronizing than anything, but she’s one of the few Mondstadters to give you the time of day. In fact, when it comes to you, Lisa is more than willing to give up all the free time she has. She’s unafraid of laying a friendly hand around your arm at lunch, letting the pointed toe of her high-heel skim your ankle. She’s friendly with everyone, flirtatious even when it comes to her closest friends, but there’s something truly salacious when she looks at you. Like you’re a delicate mille-feuille presented to be picked apart and devoured. When it comes to your pursuers, Lisa is rather bold and quickly dip into immoral practices for you. You’re just so adorable, she may even have to dig up an amatory potion recipe just to keep you by her side. She and Jean often team up to keep you close to Mondstadt, promising you that she can give you just a peek of private documents regarding the nature of elemental beings and their origins. Not open to the public, but you have permission from the Acting Grand Master. Aren’t you lucky? Lisa is more than ready to remind you of such should you start speaking about traveling to Liyue or Sumeru for your research. Don’t go running off before you can repay Jean for her generosity now.

[luffyvace]

Chuuya x gn reader ★

alright so there’s plenty of chuuya x fem reader and ik my males might feel tired of having to deal with gn reader- so i’ll be doing a x male reader version.

it might not come out immediately after this but i’ll try and get it done sometime soon ♡

ps: enjoy ;)

alright so i’m going with a reader that’s in the Port mafia

it’s highly likely your strong (ability or not)

if not very intelligent

so i’m going to make you chuuya’s new work partner

let’s say you got together because you were his ideal partner

with your beautiful (color), (hair type) hair

and your gentle (color) eyes

he also liked your personality as well

he liked the way you presented yourself

whether you spent hours making yourself look good or just threw on some jeans and a fashionable shirt and jacket to match

he likes your style

so with a little liquid confidence he confessed to you

turns out you thought you was handsome and charming

random

but

dont tease him—about anything not just his height.

he doesn’t like to be made fun of and will talk to you like how does dazai

maybe a little less aggressive tho

when you first started dating he’d flirt with you shamelessly

(but never at the wrong times, like a important meeting)

his pick up lines don’t always land but sometimes they’re a complete hit and fluster you, catching you of guard

he’s better with gestures when it comes to flirting

like putting an arm around your waste and bringing you closer

or smirking at you all sly

he really knows how to get your heart beating when he’s not trying too hard

but once you two are official..

he likely was never in a serious relationship with anyone before you so give him the benefit of the doubt on some things

i don’t exactly think he’s a playboy or anything though

probably found a few people attractive here or there

i feel he would avoid having flings because it would total his big bad reputation if they said something

plus if an enemy of the port mafia found out they could potentially use that against him

which is why i feel he prefers to keep your relationship private

he doesn’t want to feel vulnerable in knowing people could use you to get to him

although he’s confident in you

he feels if your strong you could protect yourself

and if your intelligent

you could beat the person trying to harm you psychologically

like with planning and timing

then they fall into your trap :)

just as you predicted 🤓☝️

😋

if your none of these things

he’s confident he’d be able to protect you himself

he’s always bragging about how strong his ability is anyway

”what idiot would wanna mess with gravity”

*insert cocky smirk here*

another thing

his love languages are gift giving, acts of service and quality time when he can

seeing as though your both members of the port mafia your both pretty busy

you guys try to make as much time as you can for each other in your schedules

which usually works since your partners and have a lot of the same missions

you cherish the simply quiet and peaceful times when you share them together

you try to make the night as special as possible

making pancakes together

(hopefully one of you can cook—he’s not the best at it, for the record)

going out for a walk and visiting your favorite places

shopping

lunch at some fancy place

‘he’s got it—it’s on him ;)’

coming home and relaxing, maybe watching a movie

cuddling and falling asleep

whoever gets up first runs the other a hot bath before dinner :)

and the other cooks once they get up

this is what i mean by when he’s not trying too hard

its romantic in itself if you let it come naturally

forget about the traditional roses and chocolates

quality time is the best time

for gift giving he gives you lavish and expensive stuff since your jobs pays well

but he’s still thoughtful enough to make it something you like/care about and use

instead of just shoving shiny jewelry (men’s or women’s) in your face and expecting you to be happy

sometimes you both forget important dates because of your hectic and random schedule

but you both always manage to pull through for your anniversary

you gift him lavish wine packs

and new tailored suits 😋

as for acts of service he’ll do little things for you if you’ve been more busy than him lately

like if you’ve been meaning to go shopping

but your job keeps calling you in

just give him the list and he’ll go for you

or if your having back pains he’ll hire a expensive chiropractor to help you :)

chuuya wasn’t made for boyfriend material or anything

but with time it’ll certainly seem like it ☀︎

i tried to make this something all brackets of people could read- i hope it worked :)

good day folks!

[burtlancster]

Burt Lancaster by Sydney Pollack — for Double Exposure: Take Two compiled and photographed by Roddy McDowall

In 1960 I was what used to be called a dialogue coach on a film entitled The Young Savages, directed by John Frankenheimer. I was twenty-six years old, had never been to Hollywood, and was scared as hell about being on a movie set. The film starred Burt Lancaster, one of the handful of motion picture superstars in the world. I walked on the set the first day (trying to be as inconspicuous as possible) and gathered together the three young actors who were to be my charges, in order to whisper a few last-minute suggestions into their respective ears before the first take. "Hey, kid . . . ," Lancaster shouted commandingly from across the set, ". . . what the hell are you telling those boys?" I turned, probably blushing, and actually tried to answer the question. Without knowing it, that was the first real step I took toward becoming a film director—under Burt's encouragement and prodding.

The first time I ever saw Burt Lancaster in person, he was standing in a doorway. I had an image of him putting his arms out, pushing lightly against the door jamb—and the ceiling and office coming down. He seemed too big for the doorway. When he came into the room he seemed too big for the room.

He is big, but not exceptionally so, certainly not by the standards of today's athletes. This impression comes from something else. From inside—an essence. Burt is a New York street-kid-intellectual. He's a stickball player who reads poetry and sings opera—a Harlem-neighborhood roughneck who devours every intellectual novel he can get his hands on. He loves to discover it all to argue, to work it over. His eyes glow, his gestures punch the air wildly; "Now think about this-here . . . !" he will exclaim, slipping into the New York east side argot of his youth.

When he was just out of high school he ran away from Harlem and joined the circus. No joke—he really ran away and joined the circus! And he "flew through the air with the greatest of ease." In 1967 he was still doing it. I used to go down to the gym on the old Goldwyn lot during lunch hour and watch him do giant-swings. Giant-swings without a safety rope and no one to spot him. He was in his fifties then, and could and did work all of us into the ground.

He taught himself to act. He literally made himself into a dynamic and complex actor. He did it with insatiable curiosity and endless hours of work. He has a singularity of focus and concentration that is like a laser. He's also comfortable in his own skin, enough so that he wastes no time feeling poorly about criticism. He takes from it what is there to be learned and simply gets on with it.

On screen, he was a dynamo. He still is, when he wants to be, but something else has been added; a grace, an elegance, a quietness, a modesty, an understanding about simplicity.

He was always so appealing on screen that most Americans thought he was just a great movie star. In Europe they knew better—the French, the Germans and Scandinavians, the Italians. When Visconti chose him for The Leopard there were a few raised eyebrows here. Not after they saw the picture. Do yourself a favor; if it's ever available—watch it. He is remarkable.

There's nothing devious about him; he leaves that to others. But a word of warning to anyone who tries it on him: he can't be fooled. I mean it.

He doesn't depend on reports—from critics, from agents, from heads of studios—on how he's doing. He knows how he's doing. His fortune doesn't rise or fall on the results of his latest picture. He knows better than the ups and downs. He always has known.

There's a movie by Jean-Luc Goddard, an early one, with Belmondo, where during a love scene Belmondo says to the girl, "Let's go to the movies, there's a picture with"—and he looks directly into the camera and smiles—"Burt Lancaster." It's a kind of renown that can't be explained in the usual terms. It has not much to do with grosses and less to do with blondness of hair or bone structure. And it can't be attributed to a certain picture, one picture that made him.

He made himself.

[ieatkeyboard]

Kinktober 7 - Semi/public sex + mutual masturbation

I was supposed to write this earlier but had no time so I'm writing it at 10 pm after passing tf out, enjoy Asmo x AFAB reader Warnings: Smut, praise, READ THE TITLE HOEEE, headcannon(Demons feel heat in Autumn before they start to hibernate in winter), clothed?-

He slipped the vibrator through your wet lips as you tossed your head back. You got ready to go to a mall in the human world to show Asmo what it was like but now that the trees were losing leaves and halloween decorations began to come out, Asmo need something to keep him tame. "Mmm, Beautiful. I really do love your pussy so so much.." The strawberry blonde spoke, you ran a hand through his hair and he leaned into your touch. "You're such a good boy. You can have me after the mall, that's the whole reason we're going out remember? To get new sex toys." You spoke, voice soft. He nodded as he put his boxers back over your hips, and pulled your skirt back up. "Let's go, before I lose my shit." He spoke, voice deep.

The trip to the mall was rough, his hand glued to your thigh as you drove. You could already smell it, lust radiating off of him. It was sweet, made your head spin, which only urged you to drive a little faster. You knew your boyfriend had no actual care for traffic laws or public eye, when he got serious, really serious, he would have you.

You took him to the food court to get him water and went straight to the store you were looking for. You found it relatively quick and walked in but as you bent down to pick a vibrator off the display, Asmo took a sip of his drink. He knew better than to pull things like this in the human world, so he left the remote to the vibrator in his pocket. After you picked the toys you wanted and paid, you went to another store, a lingerie store specifically. Asmo held a hand on your back, not only was his energy so strong you could probably choke on it, but it was dark. Possesive. You let Asmo engage more in this one, putting hangers to your body and asking what he thought. You walked out with a bag FULL and he took it for you, something he didn't do often. "Darling, I need more water." He whispered, he was beginning to calm down, come back to his usual self, but that wouldn't be for much longer if you didn't act fast. You took his hand and rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand to soothe..Well, you more than anyone. You got so close. It was right there, right in front of you, but it wasn't quick enough. He was now leading you as he headed for the big washroom sign. As you looked you saw they were single person bathrooms, not stalls, and the grip Asmo had on your hand felt shattering as he grinned. He took you in and locked the door, pushing you against the counter and pushing the small pink button. You whimpered and he began to attack your neck in kisses. "Need you. So so bad." He almost growled? You've seen him get like this once, and that was when you wore a bunny costume to Diavolo's costume birthday party. "You have me. Come on, baby, please use me. Use me to get off." You whispered. He desperately humped your thigh, whimpering into your hair as you leaned on his shoulder, panting from your own pleasure. You held his hand and could physically feel his orgasm calming him down, letting him breath a little. "I'm so sorry, Beautiful - haa! - I tried to wait, I-I swear." He apologized, though the pace at which his painfully hard cock grind against your thigh hadn't changed. "I know - Ah! - I know, Honey. It's okay, you did so so goOod for me." You moaned, hearing his moans get higher and higher as his pace began to get uneven. "Fuck I'm gonna!- ahH!" He moaned, watching as he came in his jeans. His orgasm lasted a while, causing his legs to shake as you sat him on the toilet to clean him up. "But, Beautiful..You didn't cum." He whined, moving the floor as he pulled your boxers down. "I can't just leave you unsatisfied." He tongue circled around your entrance, pushing his nose into your clit, making you jolt. He closed his eyes as you played with his hair. He pulled away for a few seconds to turn the vibrator off before pulling it out slowly, giving his tongue more space to fill your aching pussy. He had gotten you pretty sensitive with the vibrator so it didn't take long to cum, actually, in his words it was "record breaking." He stood back up and kissed your soft lips. "Come on, Beautiful, let's go home so I can do this properly."

[positivelybeastly]

"So there are mutant-hunting robots now." Tess rests her chin on her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she fixes the television with a baleful eye. A new episode of VH1: Behind the Music is playing. "Jean was a malevolent space goddess. You found proof of alien life and almost went to war with them." Her brows furrow, revealing a little age line that wasn't there the last time he saw her in person.

"Morph got blown up and brainwashed by some asshole who sounds like he's going to be a real problem--" yeah, no shit--"and I..." She sighs, rubbing a hand across her tired eyes. "I don't know who Jubilee and Bishop are."

A wet sniff.

Tess--the Tess he knew--had a nasty psychosomatic vomit reaction. She's not even lunging for a trash can, just a little green. And looking utterly lost, until she hides her face in her arms. (Get it together, X-Man.) "Good find." Her voice is muffled." Glad to have them on the... on the team."

For everyone else, she's been a g-ddamn trooper. Tess McKay, ready to be back on the job! Tess McKay, who fucking loves being an X-Man and didn't spend the last four years lost in a dimension of shrimp people. Hah-hah! Tess McKay, acerbic as ever!

Hank knows her better. Always did, really.

Having one's life upended while wearing the uniform is a rite of passage. (Hank? He went blue and furry. Morph? Mistaken for dead and brainwashed by an evil scientist. Jean? Apparently possessed by a big psychic space bird.) She'll get past it. Everyone will catch her up on what she's missed. Things won't be the same, but they'll be good, and even if the world's moved on without her, she's so... happy to be back. With everyone. With this ragtag group of weirdos who became her family.

Except--

"Oh, Hank. He's gone."

When the sob comes, it's low and ragged, wringing the breath out of her.

"The Professor's gone..."

"Our government chose to deploy so called 'robot policemen' in one of their more scatter brained and authoritarian breaches of common sense, this is in fact true."

Every now and then, Hank's eyes flick up from the chronometric circuits that Bishop's time band is laced with, the fine point of his laser solder erupting in a brilliant burst of light every now and then.

The episode of VH1: Behind the Music that Tess has elected to leave the television on is all about Fleetwood Mac, and the inter-band conflict is fascinating enough that Hank finds himself sucked in, even as the secrets to time travel literally sit in his hands.

"Well, to be precise, I didn't nearly go to war with anyone. The micro-nation of Henry Philip McCoy would put up a very poor showing in a protracted conflict with an intergalactic super-power, though I thank you for your faith in my abilities, Tess."

The humour comes to an end when the tone shifts and he remembers what happened to Morph, a sad look in his eye. Some days, he wonders what might have happened if he had been the one 'killed' in action that day, and Morph who had been imprisoned. He might have suffered the same fate, and he's . . . ashamed to admit, he isn't sure he would have stood up to Sinister's tampering as well as Morph did.

". . . Lucas and Jubilation are both fine individuals, Tess. You'll like them. I know that you will."

Then comes the wet sniff, and he flips down off the rafters, putting down the time band. His fuzzy blue mitts, warm and strong, come to rest on her arm, and he squeezes gently, offering her the comfort. He's here. He can help her weather any storm, any turbulence, any upset. That's what he does, he helps people. He does his best, at any rate.

But then . . . he's gone. And Hank doesn't have to question for a moment who she means, and his chest goes tight even as he gathers her up into a hug and pulls her against him, resting his chin on her head as he presses a soft kiss to her scalp. It's a gentle gesture, it's loving. It's kind, above all else. It's an attempt to reassure, even as he feels his own lip wobble and he casts his blue eyes upwards, trying to contain the tears he feels welling up in them.

"I know, Tess. I know. It's going to be all right. It will, I promise."

[theninthdoor]

Can you do bad sides/questionnable reading for enhypen as well ? (Like you did for BTS) Thank youuu :)

again... before you read: make sure that you take everything with a grain of salt and put your common sense to good use! no human being is 100% angel; no one is perfect + some of these things we, ourselves, do or think of doing from time to time. still, if anyone is expecting idols to be some sort of perfect demi-gods, the internet might not be for you 💘 also, of course, i’m not claiming anything as facts. feel free to dismiss my interpretations, if you wish.

Heeseung || the devil, page of wands: Uhh… a little manipulative? He knows what to say to push people's buttons. Plus, might take his jokes a little too far sometimes, too. While said joke might be making someone uncomfortable, if he's not yet satisfied with it, he's not gonna stop. What's funny for him often isn't funny for others, and he might fail to notice that. It could also happen that others feels pressured to laugh at those jokes or go along with his antics just so they aren't the next victim. (mind you, I don't think he's malicious with it, necessarily… he may just lack the maturity or self-awareness to recognize what's reaaally happening)

Jay || the temperance, ace of pentacles: Jay might have a hard time stepping out of his comfort zone, and so he tries to mold people into what better fits said comfort zone. If he thinks something is the best of its kind (i.e.: a restaurant or a style of jeans), he will want everybody to have the same opinion or follow his own. Passive-aggressiveness might also be an issue here.

Jake || three of swords, ace of swords: Knows how to hit a raw nerve, and might do it more often than he should. He's the type to remember things/secrets a person has told him and use that against them later on, specially when they have hurt his feelings. Will bring up people's past mistakes, too, for sure… Plus, once you hurt him, he'll make sure you know it and acknowledge it!

Sunghoon || four of wands, eight of cups: Escapism; faking it. Fakes his personality and/or tastes and preferences in order to fit in. Would rather run than confront others over things that have upset him. Might also be the type to say one thing in front of the larger group of people, and then go and say another in private to someone he trusts.

Sunoo || wheel of fortune, ace of wands: Unpredictable. Always looking for the next big thing. He just isn't very commited to stuff, specially if something else more interesting or promising comes up. It may be hard to get him to follow through with an idea or plan - it's a "do it now or you may never actually do it" type of thing. He just loses interest very easily, it seems.

Jungwon || ace of pentacles, eight of swords: I wouldn't necessarily say close minded, but more like… short-sighted? He rejects things/ideas/people too fast upon a first impression, and doesn't give them the opportunity to unravel into something that, perhaps, he'd find really quite interesting. For example, if 7 years ago he found a 12-in-1 shampoo that worked for his needs, in those 7 years he has never accepted any other shampoo suggestion and will shit-talk all other options… you won't get him to change his mind bc, honestly, he doesn't care. It might be better for him and give him better results but, instead of considering that, he's thinking about NOT getting what this 12-in-1 provides for him right now. Besides that, he may also be a little material focused and reject some opportunities in order to focus on work, to save money, or simply because he thinks it's below himself.

Ni-ki || three of swords, king of wands: Lol… he plays the victim very well! Ni-ki knows how to use his acting skills to get what he wants, for sure… Dramatic. Pushy. Hates it when people don't pay attention to him - OR when they don't give him the amount of attention he thinks he deserves. "My way or the highway… unless you wanna hear me whine about it for a month, of course".

(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)