#is it really that hard??? i haven't even met him yet and i get it

[beanghostprincess]

i haven't met yamato yet but i can't believe the discourse about his gender is something real like... as far as i know, he says he's a boy in specific, right? then what's the fucking issue!!!!

[egophiliac]

don't think I'm not still obsessing over 7-12

[milkmily]

Together

ᝰ.ᐟ❣️⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr.Scarletella x fem Reader

Smut I Saw like a theory in tik tok where it said (something like this not quite sure) that MC would leave bodies right and Mr Scarletella would think that she'd do all of that for him so he would be super interested in them. So imma use that :D also reader Is in college because I don't like using the term “school” cuz its uncomfortable and i'm writing smut.

Ahead: Unprotected Sex(stay safe:p) and biting also sorry it's super short 😔

“Me want your name.”

This had always happened. Well, like maybe 2 times. But now, he won't leave you alone after you have found out what you have done. What you really are. You just aren't some cute woman who goes to college. You were a murder. Why? Just to get that adrenaline that would come with it.

As you took their lives, you had always had this feeling as if someone was looking at you. Eyes. Always, always, Always on you. At everything you did. But you'd turn and check every corner and nothing. No one would be there. Maybe you were just paranoid. You haven't even been caught yet. So it wouldn't matter. And now here you are, face to face with what has been looking at everything you have ever done. Mr. Scarletella.

“You give your name?”

He asks. You had two options. Try to beat him, even though you knew that wouldn't work, or finally give your damn name to him. You remembered the telephone had told you to not give your name. Mr. Crawling had protected you the first time you had met Mr Scarletella. You threw your crowbar at him and he started to glitch. He asks again and you didn't answer, attacking him but again, it went right through him. And everything changes. You open your eyes and see him face to face with you. You hold your crowbar high and your eyes go wide at what he said.

“You like me? Me like you.” He says and you give him a puzzled look. “What?” You asked as you lowered your crowbar. “Let us go together. You teach name?” You groan and throw the crowbar at him again. And you start to speak back to him. And finally.

“like you.” You say and everything is back to normal. You open your eyes to see an umbrella. You picked it up and looked up at it. It's a normal umbrella. It isn't red. You looked down and saw a hand on top of yours, you screamed and threw the umbrella. You looked around and saw Mr Scarletella looking back at you. “Together.” He says as he is now in front of you. You gulped and took some steps back. You blinked and he's gone, but you feel warm breathing behind you. You felt his hands on your arm as he said again, “Together.”

“W-What?!” You ask and feel his warm breathing on your neck, goosebumps all over your body. “Together.” He says again and you feel small kisses on your neck. You gasp and feel your body heat up. “W-Wait-” you felt his hands start to go all over your body. they'd move from your arms down to your hands and move to your stomach. He'd gently and softly move them up and his hands bumped onto your breast. You softly gasp as his lips meet your neck. “You give.” He says. “You give. Grateful.” He says as he keeps kissing your neck, making you moan. “Grateful.” He whispers on to your neck as his hands move under your shirt.

Oh. You remembered now. The bodies. The things you'd say while killing them. “If someone is here watching, these are all for you.” Oh. “You're returning the favor?” You ask but his hands continue to move higher and his kisses move to your shoulder. You shiver and hold your arms up as the shirt is lifted up to reveal your breast, your nipples hard from being turned on. You should Be scared but…you aren't. You've always been interested in Mr Scarletella. You just never could get close to him or else he will keep asking about your damn name.

And now here he is. His hands cupping your breast as he kissed your neck. Your moan and gasp. You pulled his hands away and he stopped kissing your neck. “Why?” He asks and you turn to look at him. You smiled at him and he gave you his wide smile. “Me like you. You like me?” He asks again. “Me like you.” You say to him as you try to reach up to him. He lowers himself to your height and you cup his face. “You like me.” He says and you nod. He tilts his head to the side as he grins and holds your hand.

“Together.” He says. he moved his hands to cup your breast again, moaning. He knew you were feeling good with the sound you made. The expression on your face. He hummed and looked at you. You were perfect. You may not give him your name, but that can be for later. You were his now. You are his now. No one else's. You are his either way.

He pins you on the floor, straddling you. The floor is so cold against your bare back. You yelp and look up at him who was on top of you, his hands on the floor as he was on top of you, Grinning. His red hair still somehow covered one of his eyes as He looked down at you. You looked at him and tilted your head. “Together.” He says again as he moves his hand to cup your face. His hands are so big compared to yours. He only really only needs one hand to perfectly fit your face. His face got closer To yours, his breathing on your face.

You couldn't help but whimper at how close he Is. You could already feel how wet you were. Your pussy is aching for him already. He grins down and looks down at the clothes you were wearing. He slowly lifted up the coat you had on and pulled your pants with your panties down. You lift your hips up to help him. You continue to look at him as he keeps looking at you. The way he looked at you had your body reacting. And then you asked yourself: He knows what to do already? Maybe he had seen a lot of incidents where people would Go where he is to ya know, just have sex. Or who knows. All you know is he already knows what he is doing.

He looks at you and grins as his fingers rub between your wet pussy lips. You softly gasp and look at his hand. He closed your lips together, making You jump. “Like?” He asks and you nod. He greatly presses his finger to your clit and starts to rub. You open your legs more as he keeps rubbing. He lowers his head as he brings your nipple in his mouth. You whimper and look down at him. He picked and gently bit down on your nipple. “Ouch.” You whine and look up at you. He grins and continues to suck on it.

He brings his hand back up and Teases your other nipple. He starts to rub himself on you. You felt how big he was though his pants already. You gulp and moan.

You suddenly felt something warm and wet rub up and down your clit. You looked down and saw his cock out, rubbing between your folds to get his tip wet with your arousal. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He was still sucking your nipple and It was starting to get sore. You pull his head away and he looks at you. He grins and presses his tip at your cunt. You open your legs a bit more and your hips closer to him. He lifts your hips Up, making you yelp. You looked up at him and he gently pushed Himself in your cunt. “Together.” He says and groans. You rolled your eyes back quickly as you felt how he stretched you out. You moaned and looked at him.

He starts to move his hips as he looks down at how your pussy would suck him in. He brings His thumb to your flit and starts to rub it. You moan and hold on to your hair as he keeps thrusting.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

You were on the cold concert floor, your face on the floor, ass up as Mr Scarletella moved his hips, he was panting fast and groaning as he kept pushing his cock in so deep and fast. “Ah! I can't!” You moan but you knew you wanted more. How many times have you come already? Jesus. He kept making you switch positions every time you came. He First had you laying down as he held your hips up. The next one was you riding him but you soon gave up so he simply grabs your hips and pushes you up and down. He's really strong. He had you laying down again but he held both of your legs just to go deeper inside of you.

Now he has your ass up as he keeps pushing in and out of you. His thrusting became harsher. “Mr Scarletellaaaa- ah! There!” You moan. You could feel how his cock came in and out of you, how warm and wet he felt. You whine and moan as his cock brushes your g-spot. “Together.” He kept saying and moaning. He really loved that word a lot.

You hold onto his hand that was on your hips. You turn to look at him, teary eyes As you moan. You were close again. You needed to cum on his cock again. You whimper and whine as he keeps thrusting into you, this time even faster. You scream and your toes curl as you bury your face on the floor, eyes rolling back as you cum on his cock. You hear him groan and feel something warm dripping out of your pussy.

You pant and whine trying to catch your breath but he quickly makes you turn around and lifts up your right leg. You whine and shake your head. “No-” You say and moan as he pushes his cock in again, slipping in so easily. He buried his face in your neck and groaned. “Together.” He says again and he thrusted. His thrust is a bit slow and more softer now. you wrapped your arms around him as he keeps moving his hips. You could hear a short whine coming from him as you tug at his hair. You whimper and whine. Every thrust Made you so sensitive and feel everything.

Mr Scarletella kisses your neck and whimpers. He's sensitive too. He could feel everything about you. But he just loved that he was finally with you, be with you, be in you. Be together.

A couple of more thrusts and he cums inside of you. He pulls out and pants as he looks down at your pussy that dripped out his cum. He groans and rubs his cum between your folds. He pressed his cock inside your entrance and said, “Together, again…” as he pushed his cock in, making you whine.

Hey @kita-01 and @misaamanekinnie21 , patiently waiting 🫡

[mwphisto]

I’m not sensitive!

Pairings include: Xavier x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Sylus x Reader | Caleb x Reader

Warning, this post includes: breast play, nipple play, breast kissing, nipple kissing / licking / and biting

A/N: as a girlie that was convinced her boobs we’re not sensitive, I present you this lmao. Of course, it is totally normal for your breasts to not be sensitive and for you to not be into breast play!!!! I am just writing based on my own experiences, and even then, it can be a 50/50 for me lol. Bigger chest = less sensitivity from what I've heard, but it's different for everyone! Much love!!

Moving Banners from @cafekitsune | LaDs men banner by me!

Xavier

A lazy weekend afternoon, comfy clothes, lots of snacks, and some cheesy horror movies playing on Xavier's TV screen. You were more engulfed in each other than anything else, the conversation flowing naturally as you lounged against the armrest of his couch.

"I'm serious, they're not sensitive." Your feet rest on his lap, his long fingers gently stroking up and down the skin of your calf. "I highly doubt it." Xavier countered with ease, blue eyes sparkling as a smirk curled his lips. "I just think you haven't met the right person."

Some way, somehow, the conversation had turned towards intimacy. What parts of you were sensitive, what parts weren't, the whole nine. Tension had been growing, but neither of you were willing to bite just yet. Even as you fought the urge to squeeze your thighs.

"The right person, huh? You're saying you can prove me wrong?"

You boldly proclaimed your breasts were not sensitive, your nipples not all that appealing to yourself when you had time alone. You didn't really touch them, like ever, even when masturbating.

"I believe I can give it my best shot..." Xavier started, using one finger to trail up towards your knee. "... that way, we can be positive that it's not... user error." He grins, something boyish and full of mischief and dammit you're a goner. "Well, you have my permission, Xavi."

Just like that, he's tugging your legs as he lunges. Crushing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. The hand that had been playing with your ankles and calves now splayed over your exposed thigh. Sneaking under your lounge shorts and reaching up towards your underwear.

His other hand snuck under your hoodie - one you had stolen from him - and didn't stop until he cupped one bare breast. "No bra?" a murmur against your lips, he didn't give you a chance to answer before his tongue was slipping into your mouth.

You arched into his touch, the warmth of his hand against your skin making your lips tremble as you tried to keep up with Xavier's needy kisses. He squeezes, not hard enough to hurt but enough to elicit a gasp, a triumphant smirk already curling his lips.

"See... you needed the right person." Saliva keeps you connected as he pulls away, blue irises nearly devoured by his dilated pupils. "The right person with the best touch..." His thumb and pointer finger find your nipple, squeezing it a few times experimentally.

A gasp flees you, body jerking away from the shock of pleasure that zapped up your spine. You'd tried this before, when you had been so convinced that playing with a woman's chest was a key part of her arousal, and you had been so disappointed when nothing really... happened.

Now, Xavier was doing all the things you had tried and quickly given up on, and he was getting the reactions you craved. "Xavier h-how... oh!" You're panting as he rolls the bud between his fingers, adding more stimulation by sucking along your jaw. "You just needed the right person to prove you wrong." it's muffled against your skin, a sigh of annoyance leaving him a second later.

"Take this off." All at once, he leaves you. Just long enough to yank the hoodie up and over your head.

“Let’s try this…” Xavier wasted no time, not bothering to tease you by lingering his kisses. The cool air of his apartment caused your nipples to harden, and Xavier was quick to pull one of the buds into his awaiting mouth.

Your head fell back, hands shooting to grab his head as a feeble cry of his name fled your lips. Heat pooled deep in your belly, leaking slowly and ruining your underwear. You didn’t think it was possible for your breasts to feel this way, never mind for it to cause such a reaction to the rest of you.

“X-Xavier, fuck me, please.”

“Someone’s eager.” He lets go of your nipple with a slick pop, a cocky grin now sneaking up his lips. “I’ve barely got to have my fun, you need to be patient Ms. I’m not sensitive.” You want to punch him and kiss him all at once.

Rafayel

A study of anatomy, sketching various bodies in various shapes, colors, and sizes. You couldn't even pinpoint how or when the conversation switched to personal weak spots, but... "What about your chest? Most people list their chest as a sensitive spot."

"Not me." You pout a bit, hands coming up to cup your chest before meeting Rafayel's eyes. "Maybe I'm just broken."

Your chest had never been all that sensitive from what you could tell. You'd tried a handful of times to make it feel as good as it looks, books, movies, and even porn videos put so much focus on stimulating a woman's breast that you assumed it had to feel good.

And when it fell flat? You had concluded your breasts were simply less sensitive than others. "You're certainly not broken." Rafayel sets his sketchpad down, pushing up from his seat on the floor to stalk towards where you had been lounging on his bed.

"Your body is way more responsive to someone else's touch opposed to your own." You feel your eyebrows raise, glancing between where he towered above you and where his hand was heading. "Can I show you? Or perhaps, prove my theory?" Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip, nodding a little to fast for your liking.

Rafayel sits himself down on the edge of his bed, a hand sliding over the thin material of your tank top. "You get too lost in your own head, of course, you won't be able to focus on how good it can feel." And your breathing stutters as his hand gingerly cups your right breast.

"Just relax, I've got you." As Rafayel speaks, he gently kneads the pliant flesh, silently noting that your nipples harden under his touch. "I-I just see these girls that can't go braless because their nipples are so sensitive and it just doesn't ma-oh!" Rafayel cuts you off by using his pointer and middle finger to squish the prominent bud.

"Ah-ah, what did I say about relaxing? Just enjoy..." Heat is starting to seep into your cheeks, your hand coming up instinctively to clutch Rafayel's wrist as he toys with your breast.

"They're so pretty, can I lift this up?" he's using his free hand to tug at the elastic material of your tank top, smirking when you nod your approval. "Atta girl, let me see these beauties...shit." His cheeks are turning pink, pupils dilating wide as he uses his other hand to cup your neglected left breast. "Fuck, they're so perfect."

You want to open your mouth and retaliate, but you think they are far from perfect. But you swallow it, knowing better than to dare contradict him when it comes to statements about your beauty. "And so responsive, see what happens when you listen to me?"

He seals the deal with a pinch, tugging both of your perked nipples between his thumb and pointer fingers before leaning down to kiss your sternum. "So damn beautiful." Another kiss, one closer to your right breast. "And so not broken, don't ever say that again."

This time, the kiss lands on your nipple, and you're mewling, cheeks burning hot as you clutch his wrist just a little tighter. Rafayel doesn't pull away this time, instead he removes his hand completely so he can suck the now-sensitive bud between his lips.

You're not sure how long he stays on you like that, but you know your panties are drenched and your nipple is swollen by the time Rafayel finally eases up. "Can I?" he swallows, chest heaving as he looks at your chest. He needs to mark them first and then sketch them.

"Can I fuck these after I show you how sensitive they can be?"

Zayne

You loved watching him type his reports, finding his meticulous typing to be both adorable and hot. Maybe it was just because you were so deeply in love with him, but dammit you could watch Zayne work all day. So, when he dragged over a human anatomy chart while typing on a patient file, you felt the need to pop the question.

"Zayne?" You sounded hesitant uttering it, so naturally, Zayne's attention was immediately focused on you. "Is something wrong?" Immediately, you wanted to swallow your words. "I-Uh, no, but I just kinda... had a question." You feel like you're going to die.

"Go on." He relaxed a bit, a telling sign that he could see your anxiety and wanted you to feel comfortable. "Ah, well." You look away, swallowing the lump in your throat before trying again. "I was just wondering if it was normal for... for breasts to not be sensitive."

The surgeon's eyebrow twitches upwards at that, and now you really want to melt into the chair you had been lounging in.

"Well, medically speaking, yes. It depends on the person. Sometimes chest size factors into sensitivity; sometimes it really doesn't. But, overall, it's pretty normal and fairly common...why?" Concluding his answer, Zayne seemed to really process what you were asking.

You felt a tad relieved upon hearing that it wasn't a one-in-a-million chance that you deemed your chest to be lacking sensitivity. "Oh, well, my breasts aren't all that sensitive, I kind of worried it wasn't normal, you know?" Zayne nodded, ears turning a shade of red. "Many forms of media have set unrealistic expectations."

"Tell me about it. I really felt self-conscious." You were ready to resume your lounging, but Zayne was still eyeing you.

"Would you like me to perform an exam?"

You swallow, eyes widening in surprise, but your head is moving faster. A nod escapes you before you can stop it, clearing your throat, you add, "That would be great, actually. I'd appreciate it."

Somehow, you're shirtless and braless on Zayne's exam table. The cool air of his office makes your nipples pebble. "They look perfect." He states it plainly, leaving no room for debate, even as your cheeks begin to burn. With skilled hands, the surgeon cups both of your bare breasts in his hands, kneading and squeezing meticulously.

The sensation sends a shrill of arousal straight to your tummy, and you find yourself gripping the edge of the exam table. "It's also quite common for your brain to pick a side. If you squeeze your own breast, your brain may focus more on what your hand is feeling rather than your chest." He squeezes them both to send the point home.

"And..." Zayne's head lowers, a gentle kiss placed on the top of each breast before he squeezes your nipples. "... different forms of stimulation can really shake things up."

In the blink of an eye, your back is against the cool leather of his exam table. The same table is now creaking as Zayne climbs up on it with you. "Z-zayne, what are you-" But his mouth descends on your breasts again, and suddenly all words die on your tongue.

His nose drags along your skin, inhaling your scent before suckling on one of your nipples. His hand comes up to toy with your other breast, determined to not let it go neglected during his exam.

"Some women find breast stimulation to be more effective when..." he swallows, angling himself so his free hand can slide down your stomach and towards the waistband of your pants. "...vaginal stimulation is provided at the same time."

Sylus

"Your chest is pretty sensitive, huh, Sy?" Your fingers dance lazily across his pecs, watching his expression for any signs. Sure enough, his brows pinch together briefly before relaxing again. "I guess you could say that." A gentle murmur, one that is full of exhaustion despite his eyes scanning over the pages of a book.

You were both supposed to be sleeping, but some days this was the only time you two could really spend time together. Snuggled into the crook of his arm, you found your brain wandering.

"Why are you asking, anyway?" his finger marks the spot he left off on, carmine eyes sliding to look down at where you peered up at him. "I just wish my chest was as sensitive as yours." You said it almost dreamily, as if you didn't realize what that statement did to him.

"Your breasts aren't sensitive?" Sylus countered, the book in his hand being tossed onto the nightstand so he could focus everything on you. "No, not really. I've tried but... nothing really works. I don't get how girls get so worked up when their breasts are touched."

He seemed to think it over for a moment, a small smirk curling his lips. "Do you care if I try something before you come to such a conclusion?" He turns towards you, his free hand resting on your shoulder and pushing you to your back. “You know what? Sure, go ahead. I doubt the outcome will change what I said.”

A little bit of defiance, sure. But Sylus caught the hint of sadness too. Now, he was even more determined.

"Don't be so quick..." His hand cups your breast through the silk of your nightgown, eliciting a small gasp. "...to doubt me, kitten." He's warm, hands that are honed to kill are now gentle as they massage your breast tenderly. "Just relax, let me take care of you."

Your lips are wobbling as he tugs the silky material down, letting both of your breasts spill out for his viewing pleasure. "If it doesn't work, if this doesn't feel good..." he pushed upwards, hovering above you slightly so he could lower his head and begin kissing your chest. "...I'll make it up to you in a way I know you love."

He tugs a nipple into his mouth, and you're arching off the mattress, the sudden sensation making your eyes water. The idea of not being sensitive has simply given Sylus the green light to be rougher.

"Sylus!" Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging as he bites down on the pebbled bud. His tongue lathers your nipple a moment later, soothing any pain from his bite. He lets go a second later, saliva connecting him to your breast even with the new distance.

"Let me..." he's tugging at your nightgown again, instead of your neckline, he's shoving the bottom hem up towards your stomach. "...fuck you while I do this. Nothing but the best, right?" Fuck, your head was spinning, legs parting as you welcomed his offer.

"I'll make you feel so good, promise." Sylus' lips are back on your breasts, kneading and sucking as he fishes his cock out with his free hand. "Sylus, I need you, now." dammit, maybe he was right. Your mind was going fuzzy from the attention he was giving you.

"I know, and you have me. Just..." he's nudging your entrance, sending you into a spiral as he bites down on your nipple and pushes himself inside. A shrill cry leaves your lips, hands gripping his biceps in a feeble attempt to remain grounded.

"Stick with me, Kitten. We've got a long night ahead, I need to be thorough with my research."

Caleb

You were lying on Caleb's bed, phone held high as you scrolled mindlessly. Caleb lies beside you, reading through some pilot magazine you had picked up at the convenience store earlier. A video on your feed has your mind going, chewing on on your inner cheek as you ponder your question out loud.

"I wonder what it's like to have a sensitive chest?"

"You uh... You asking me that, pip?" Caleb was caught off guard, one eyebrow twitching upwards as he turned his head just enough to look at you. Realizing your mistake, you can't help but laugh out of embarrassment. "More so talking to myself."

"Your chest isn't... sensitive?" Caleb jumps right to the point, suddenly more intrigued with your answer now that the initial surprise has worn off. "No, not really. I mean, I've tried like everything and it just doesn't... do all that much."

"Like doesn't feel good at all? Or just not what you expected?" The magazine is long forgotten, Caleb is rolling onto his side to really study you. "I guess... not as good as I hoped? I just feel like they're not as sensitive as they could be." You attempt to shrug it off, but Caleb doesn't seem to want to let it go.

"Can I... give it a shot, pip?" And suddenly it all clicked into place. You click your phone off, tossing it to the side and sighing. "By all means, Caleb. Have your fun." Like a dog who just got praised, Caleb is quick to get to work. Not bothering with touching you over your shirt. In one motion, he has tugged the clothing up and over your bare chest.

"Let's see..." calloused fingers are running up your stomach, his eyes focused on the way your nipples harden due to the exposed air. "...it's not odd for breasts to lack sensitivity." Even as he speaks, goosebumps erupt over your skin. "But sometimes, you just need the right touch to prove you wrong."

Gingerly, your right breast is cupped in his warm embrace, earning a sharp inhale as you flicker between his hand and face. "And hands aren't always what is needed." His head is descending on your chest before you can process it, a shrill cry of his name leaving your lips as he nips at the fat of your chest.

"Different sensations invoke different responses." A lick to soothe the bruise he had made. His tongue is wet and warm as it trails up to your nipple. "Some prefer ice..." a lick "...some prefer heat or wax" a kiss directly on top of the pebbling bud. "Others like tickling." His nose nuzzles it before pulling back. "And others like pain."

Caleb's teeth sink into your nipple, and your back arches off the mattress. "It's all up to you, whatever you deem best." You're seeing stars, a whimper leaving your lips as you guide his hand over to your neglected breast. "Just make me feel good, please."

"At your service, pip."

[baby-yongbok]

After Party

Bang Chan x Afab!Reader

⤷ The Fendi after party gets much more interesting after a few margaritas and sneaking away with a stranger. ⤷ Content warning - protected sex ⤷ WC - 1.1k ⤷ A/N - In honor of Chris looking so fine for Milan Fashion week that he broke my writers block. ✧ Masterlist ✧

You met him five minutes ago, not that something like that matters when he looks like a Greek god but it explains why his name doesn't fall from your lips as easily as you want it to. 

The Fendi after party was boring. Your manager asked - actually, begged - you to be on your best behavior and you agreed. 

Then you saw him. 

“Fuck… Chan.” Right, that was his name, yeah. The very hot stranger who you drank too many margaritas with.

“I haven't even gotten started yet and you're already moaning my name? Cute.” His voice caused a sugar rush, a high of heat and a flood between your legs. “Turn around”

His hands grip your waist, turning you to the wall and hiking your dress up. Surely the designer won't be too upset if it rips, right? 

Chan's hands smooth over your ass, landing a smack that's drowned out by the music of the after party coming from the left… or the right. It doesn’t matter. 

“You're gonna fuck a stranger? Are you always this risky?” The smile on your face makes him forge one of his own as he works to free himself. 

“I'm not.” He leans into you, putting one hand on the wall and trapping you beneath him so that your back is to his chest. His dick presses firm into your ass and the feeling makes you want to turn around and take a look. “I figured I should try something new.” 

He kisses over your jaw and takes hold of his drooling cock, rubbing it over your equally needy cunt. “Got a condom?”

“My bag.” He reaches over and opens your bag, holding it out to you instead of going through it himself. You chuckle. “Such a gentleman.”

He blushes, turning a pretty red as you hand him the packaged rubber. “Is that your type?” He rips it open, rolls it on and positions himself. 

“You're my type.” He pushes in just barely. 

“You're mine too.” He hooks his arm around your midsection, pulling your back flush to his chest and pushing inside on one smooth motion.

Your jaw hangs slack, eyes roll back and you stifle a moan. Chan's hand comes up to cover your mouth and your own hand goes out in front of you in an attempt to brace yourself against the wall.

“You’re fucking tight.” He whispers and you notice that his voice is somehow sweeter when he talks dirty.

“And you're fucking big.” His hips shift and you whimper. He plays it off, saying that he's average but there's not an ounce of you that believes him. 

The first thrust feels like you're being split in two. Maybe it's the position. Maybe it's the way he has his hand pressed over the plush of your stomach to make sure you really, really feel him. Or maybe he's just fucking huge.

But the second thrust? Heaven on earth and so was every one of them that followed. 

“God, you take me so well.” Chan groans and you clench around him. “You like when I talk dirty, huh? You like when I tell you how well your cunt takes my cock? 

“Chan…” He presses his hand tighter over your mouth. The drowned out sound of skin on skin is enough to get you two caught, your moans would definitely tip everyone off.

“You can't keep quiet, can you, pretty?”

He presses you up against the wall and moves his hand from your mouth to your neck. He doesn't press, he only holds you. He tilts your head back and meets your lips in a kiss while his hips press hard against your ass. 

You swear that you can feel him in your stomach. It makes you gasp and he shuts you up with his tongue. He slides it over yours, tasting the lingering flavor of the margaritas and humming into you. 

“Please move again.” You mumble against his lips and he groans, letting his own head fall back for a second.

“I'm gonna cum.” Chan's voice is strained as he whispers. “You're gonna make me cum already.”

You reach back, grabbing his hip and trying to get him to move at least a little. You need more. It's only been a minute and you're dizzy with need.

“Then cum for me, please I just want something. Wanna feel you, Chan.” 

He buries his face in your neck for a second, moaning and nipping at the skin a bit before pulling his hips back.

“You're hot when you beg. Such a pretty girl falling apart on my cock.” 

His hand is back over your mouth the second you whimper. His other hand grips your hip while you reach back and is balled into his shirt.

“Rub your clit, cum with me.” Your hand moves from his shirt to between your thighs. The extra stimulation makes you jolt and clench and Chan hisses. 

“C'mon, You're gonna make me fucking bust.” The thought alone makes you moan. Your orgasm is close, so damn close and you know that his is closer. 

“Gonna…” Your fingers rub faster, sloppy circles into your clit but that's not what does it. It's when Chan slides his hand down from your hip and over yours between your thighs. He presses down and bottoms out and you're done for. 

“Holy shit…” You gasp, breath stuck in your chest and your body tenses and writhes from the burning pleasure. 

All of that is enough to get Chan falling apart right after you. His thrusts get sloppy until he pulls out, jerking his cock with a groan and splitting into the condom. 

The two of you try to catch your breath, panting as the sound of the music from the after party catches your attention. You look back at Chan who has his back to the wall next to you and his eyes closed. 

You sneak a peak of his cock… How the hell is that average? Average for who?

While you're gawking he reaches out and grabs your arm, pulling you gently into his chest. The gesture surprises you but you go along with it. 

“You… have made this an unforgettable night.” He laughs, his ears turning even redder if that's even possible. “Thank you.”

“Did you just thank me after fucking me?” It's your turn to laugh and he joins you. 

“I told you that I don't do things like this, okay. I don't know how It goes.” 

You lean up a bit and kiss him, soft but still hot enough to make him hum with renewed want. Your kisses trail from his lips, over his jaw and to his ear where you whisper. 

“Come back to my hotel and I'll show you just how this goes, yeah?” He smiles, his dimples showing through the blush and he nods. 

“I'd like that.”

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[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi going absolutely insane when someone talks shit about you, his one and only girlfriend.

And I'm not saying insane as in "Don't talk about her like that!". I'm saying insane as in "Say her name again with that filthy mouth of yours and I swear I'll cut your fucking tongue off."

He can handle people badmouthing him. It's not that deep, really. He's a football player, so, like every other athlete, he has fans and haters all around the globe (more fans than haters, but anyways). So, he developed the hability to just tune off all the hateful comments. Badmouth him all you want, that ain't changing the fact that he's a sucessful all star player and you're not.

What he can't handle, though, is when someone tries to talk shit about his relationship with you, his favorite person in the whole world.

Sadly for the media, you're not a famous singer or model. Yoichi and you met when you were both still little kids, dreaming about monsters, princesses and the world cup trophy. In kindergarten, he thought you were a very great friend. He realized you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen when you were middle schoolers, and, by the time high school came, he had already learned to accept the fact that he was head over heels for you. And so, like a "straight out of a movie" kind of scene, he confessed his love for you all sweaty and smiling in front of the whole world after his winning goal at the Blue Lock XI against Japan U20 match two years ago.

So yeah, you and Isagi had a cute love story. Every video of you together had millions of views and thousands of "couple goals" comments, and people loved you (honestly, how could they not? You're amazing, he's not even sure how he managed to make you fall for his "football rizz" or something, but he's glad you did anyways).

Apparently, not everyone appreciated you as much as he thought.

"Isagi, one minute of your time, please!"

"Isagi, for french press right here!"

"Yoichi, answer my question!"

"Wow. One at a time, guys!" Isagi smiled nervously yet kindly, sitting in a chair in front of the mass of reporters from all across the world who came just to interview him.

Smiling again, Isagi pointed at one of the what seemed like thousands interviewers.

"The lady over there, with the Sae Itoshi shirt"

"Thank you for the opportunity" The room became silent. The woman, seemingly in her late twenties, smiled "I'm Maria, from Brazil's national TV press. I'd like to ask a question you about your relationship with (Name) (Surname)"

Smiling wide like a lovesick fool like he always did when someone mentioned you or your relationship, Yoichi urged the reporter to continue.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"It's a known fact that you and (Name) (Surname) have been in a relationship for a little over two years. And so, your fans are wondering: do you plan on getting married shortly?"

The silence in the room was papable. All the cameras and microphones turned to a now strawberry red Yoichi. But he wasn't embarassed because of all the attention he was getting or from the fact that the whole world was seeing this right now. He was used to this feeling of "pressure" already.

He was red because he knew you were watching this interview. He was the one who asked you to do so, after all.

"Uhm... well" he swallowed hard, eyes avoiding the cameras "We have a healthy and happy relationship. We both love each other very much and spend a lot of time together. So... I guess I'd be lying if I told you I haven't thought about it before, but..."

He couldn't even finish his sentence. The press' reaction was instantaneous. Cameras' flashes everywhere and the reporters voices overlaping eachother filled the room.

"BUT" Isagi tried to continue, but just gave up on shouting since his voice couldn't compete with the voice of the lots of reporters. So, he just said to the mic in front of him, almkst whispering, hoping it would capture his voice "I think it's still a little early. I want to make sure we're both mature and financially secure first!"

Reporters were still talking and trying to get his attention. With a sigh, he realized they wouldn't stop shouting until the next question came.

"T-the guy with the light shirt"

"Argentinian press right here" the man started.

Oh oh. Yoichi didn't sense a good vibe from this man. He doesn't know if it's his smirk or his posture, but something feels off. He looks almost dangerous.

I'm probably going crazy, Yoichi thought.

When the man opened his mouth again, though, Isagi realized his intuition was right all along.

"I know you said you love your girlfriend, but you do realize the fans think your girl is just keeping you from becoming the best version of yourself, right?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"What." Isagi said, the words coming out in a rather forced way.

Unlike before, the silence in the room was not only palpable. It was now suffocating, uncomfortable.

"Well, it's clear as water" the man shrugged, as if what he was saying made a lot of sense "She is stopping you from becoming the number one striker in the world."

All Isagi wanted to do now was jump across the room and send his fist flying straight to the man's face. He wanted it to realize how utterly wrong he was. How your relationship was actually the best thing that had ever happened in his life, and how he would have probably given up on football have you not begged him to go to the Blue Lock program.

And the though of you sweet, caring you watching this made Yoichi give up on his idea of hitting the man straight on the nose, even if his body was trembling just from thinking about it.

I have to keep my cool. For her.

"Why..." he swallowed. Hard. "Why do you think this is truth?"

"You're not using your time wisely. Instead of practicing, your wasting it because you keep giving for futile things like a relationship"

Oh, how much Yoichi wanted to jump this ugly looking clown. How he wished to hit him hundreds of times, over and over again until he swallowed his own words. Until he regretted ever learning how to even speak.

His fist was already trembling. He was taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.

But it seems like the argentinian doesn't know when to stop.

"Also, it gets kinda tiring living with the same person for a long time, no?" The man laughed "I wouldn't blame you if you're actually cheating on her too, I honestly wouldn't have just one girl if I was you. I mean, you're a star and she's just..."

"Shut. the fuck. up."

All the cameras turned to him again. Yoichi was red. But it's not cause he was embarassed, like the other time.

He was red because he was seething with boiling rage.

I'll kill him. I swear I'll fucking kill this dumb shit.

"Never" Yoichi narrowed his eyes "And I mean never say my girlfriend's name with that disgusting voice of yours again. If you as much as look at her, consider yourself fucking dead." He got up from the table, gaze harder than the one he wears on the field "That woman is the source of my happiness, and you have no right to talk about her like that. If you talk with me with respect you have to show respect for her too. Are we clear? Or is your skull too fucking thick for the information to get into it?

"Calm down, amigo! I was just saying what the fans think." The man smirked, gald to get a reaction from Isagi. If looks could kill, he would have been 6 feet under already "They think it would be better if you both break up..."

"You've fucking done it."

Yoichi jumped from the table, ready to kill the man.

He wanted to crush his skull with his bare hands, to show him just how much you mean to him and how mad he gets when someone mentions you in a degrading way.

Gladly, the japanese PR team removed the man from the room before things could get worse, or else Yoichi would realky have done some damage (he was an athlete, after all).

Watching the man leave the room with furrowed brows and a subtle pout (he really wanted to beat him, after all), Iaagu decided to use this moment to make some things clear. So, he turned to the main mic again.

"I hope this serves as a lesson" Yoichi said, somehow managing to look at almost all of the cameras at the same time "To everyone watching this. Don't expect to talk shit about my girlfriend and get out with all of your teeth in place. I fucking dare anyone to badmouth her. I won't let you get away with it." He glared at one of the cameras "This press ends now."

He then quickly got out of the room, ignoring all the reporters who tried to get him to come back.

With a sigh, once he was in the changing room, he grabbed his phone, not surprised to see almost 20 missed calls and 50 missed massages from you.

(My love ❤️)

-> YOICHI???

-> WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

-> (1 missed call)

Don't worry, I'm going home now 😁 <-

Miss you ❤️ <-

-> Typing...

With a smile, he put his phone in his pocket and started to go home.

Man, he just really wanted to see you. Specially since he knew that the next day, the press would want more interviews about what happened.

Whatever. What really matters is that, at the end of the day, you're his and he's yours. And no amount of dumb reporters or media will ever change that.

~ A/N: not proofread. This sucks 💔 I wrote this to stop my growing Aiku obsession LOL

Masterlist

[mydear-corinthian]

while you're interviewing

synopsis: giving cillian a head while he's having an online interview.

pairing: cillian murphy x reader / cillian murphy x wife!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, oral sex (m! receiving), blowjob, domcillian, implied sex, reader is horny as fuck

notes - rushed, a bit short <1500 w.c, divider and gif is mine

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

It's turned out that your husband has a more complicated schedule than you had imagined, partly because of his notable work as a celebrity. You're very proud of him, especially in light of his most recent success—getting the lead in the movie that everyone is calling the best of the year. Along with receiving positive recognition, which his success has attracted a lot of media attention, that has resulted in a ton of interviews and promotions.

Consequently, your partner's days and nights are occupied with continuous responsibilities. Where you both currently reside, in Dublin, it is currently two in the morning. Even though it's late, Cillian remains involved in his work. His face is softly lit by the laptop screen as he sits in his home office, which is a calm yet busy space. Due to the changes of several time zones, he is preparing for an interview that is taking place at this unusual hour, yet he remains focused throughout.

These late-night interviews are a natural component of his schedule due to the nature of his work. The joy you get from his accomplishments and the commitment to his trade make up for the challenge of adjusting to this fast-paced workplace. His dedication is clear in the conversation as he carefully goes over his notes and collects his thoughts, which is a praise to the ability and hard work he has put into this incredible project. 

Although you were always proud of your lover, there was also a hint of melancholy. You two haven't really bonded with each other in a while. sharing a bed, going on a date, or simply staying home.

Cillian's head lifted up when he heard a soft knock. "Baby, why are you still awake?" he asked.

"Can't sleep."

He gave you a little smile and then tapped his thigh to invite you to sit on it. You approached your partner and took a seat on his right thigh. As he did the same to your hips, you put your arms around his neck to support him.

"Is there something on your mind?" Cillian asked, giving you a soft kiss before laying his eyes back at yours.

Sighing, you looked at the screen in front of you. He was already in the logging-in part of the Zoom call, showing how his interview will start in awhile.

"Nothing.. just tired," you lied.

"Hm? What's actually bothering you right now?"

You didn't answer his question, instead you let your lips crash to his, allowing yourself to taste him. Cillian let out a small oh and smirked, knowing what you meant. He kissed you back, deepening it. You moved your position, now sitting on his lap facing him. Your husband gripped your hips and caressed your bare back when he lifted your shirt a bit.

"Need you, Cillian," you moaned in between kisses as the making out session got more heated. Your arms wrapping his neck, grinding your hips to his clothed bulge. Your breath getting ragged.

You felt a familiar spark flare up inside of you after the kiss, awakening the need you'd been craving. His touch, calming and soft, surrounded you with a warmth that only he can give. You got the comfort you were looking for in his hug, and Cillian's hand was a gentle reminder of your strong relationship.

Suddenly, Cillian pulled the kiss out. A short sigh escaped his lips. "Not now, honey. I still have an interview."

"Can't it wait?" you pleaded making him chuckle.

Before turning off the camera and microphone and getting ready for the Zoom conference, his fingers danced across the keyboard as he entered his log-in information. Your lips met Cillian's soft lips in a brief but sweet kiss that held a hint of melancholy. With a trace of remorse, he said, "I'm sorry, honey, it really can't." 

The both of you heard a voice, assuming it was the interviewer, coming out from his Apple laptop. "Okay, Cillian," the interview called his name, "we'll start the interview now."

He looked at you apologetically. His eyes pleaded and his lips curved into a small sad smile. You lifted yourself off of his lap and walked behind his desk so that the interviewer won't see you once Cillian turns on his camera.

Cillian then clicked the camera button, turning it on and his microphone as well. He expected you to leave his office and not you crawling below his desk.

He looked at you below, giving you a gaze of what the hell are you doing? but you didn't stop, instead you chuckled.

"So, Cillian! How are you doing?" the interviewer's voice echoed all over the silent walls of his home office.

"Yeah, everything is great. It's actually three in the morning here."

"Oh! I think your family is asleep now, especially your wife, yeah?"

"My wife definitely is." he laughed a little, looking down at his pants as you slowly unzip them.

"So, tell us about Oppenheimer!"

The tension between you increased as your fingers neatly removed his zipper, and the hope in the air practically sparked. His Calvin Klein briefs' fabric pulled against the hardness below, revealing his erect, pulsating length. You gently touched him, feeling the heat escape through the thin material, and then you shot him a playful glance that caused his breath to hitch.

You slid his boxers down slowly, almost like a tortue to him, revealing his entire erect cock. Your mouth started to moisten at the sight, and you found yourself wanting to lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin. He let out a deep, low moan that echoed across the still room as your thumb slowly moved around the swollen tip. There, a bead of pre-cum accrued that provided resisting impossible.

Cillian grabbed a fist full of your hair, letting you take his whole length; his tip hitting at the back of your throat. He let out a groan but tried to cover it with a cough, not letting the interviewer know what was actually happening.

Cillian took hold of your hair with his fist, allowing you to take his entire length, his tip brushing the back of your throat. He groaned, trying to hide it under a cough to keep the interviewer from realizing what was going on. Every time he gave you a thrust, his breath was labored. He tried not to look suspicious at all, but for a few seconds his eyes were forcibly shut.

"Mmp—!" you moaned at his cock, taking him again and again and again. His grip was getting harsher and harsher but it doesn't hurt you. Your left hand gripped his right thigh, allowing yourself to balance while your other hand massaged his balls—which he absolutely loves.

His silent airy moans are starting to hear not so silent anymore. His other arm gripped his swivel chair tightly.

"Cillian, are you okay?" the interviewer asked.

"A-actually, I think I'm not feeling that well, Jimmy," he lied, looking at his webcam. "Can we perhaps—Jesus— reschedule this meeting?"

You bobbed even faster, letting his cock hit your throat, your cheek, everything inside your mouth.

"Yeah, sure. No problemo! We'll just send you an email later. Get well soon, Cillian!" and that's the last voice that echoed through the laptop before you heard him closing it.

Cillian relaxed his back and continued to gasp and whimper at the way you were feeding him. He was having an incredible amount of pleasure, and he most certainly needed this after all the hectic job he had to accomplish. He smiled and said,

"Fuck— you really can't wait don't you?" he was close, because you felt him twitch inside of you. He let out a loud groan as you swallowed him completely once more.

"Oh honey, that's it—yes."

He leaned in closer and said, "Gonna cum inside your mouth, honey. Take it all, okay?"

It took him a couple more thrusts until he came. Inside your mouth, a white, creamy, and salty liquid spurted out of his cock. You licked your lips clean after swallowing it all, got to your feet in front of him, and then sat back down on his lap.

"Looks like I need to reward my wife, hm? Let's go to our room." Cillian said.

"Oh finally!" you sighed in amusement.

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[valentine-cafe]

May I have a tiramisu please?

Bottom male reader perhaps meeting Alessio at a club or party and being smitten with him and decides to have a one night stand with him

Also is it ok if I am 🖍️anon? (Pronounced like craynon)

˖⁺. “ pretty party boy ! ” : 

﹙ top punkgoth mercenary x bttm male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

 . . . verse 781 alessio x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ punkgoth ˖ mercenary ˖ immortal inhuman  ﹚ 

you found the flirtatious hunk at the club rather cute - and it seems like the both of you can't keep your hands off of each other. might as well head over and get into his pants, right?

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ one night stand ˖ penetrative sex ˖ fingering ˖ size difference ˖ degradation ˖ rough sex ˖ spit ˖ creampie ˖ alcohol consumption ˖ club scenes | wc : 1.6k

﹙ receipts ﹚: oh I had wayyy too much fun with this and yes ! welcome 🖍️<3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

Parties seemed to be his scene. Even moreso when he's got a pretty lil' thing like you grinding up on him on the dance floor. He barely knew your name but he sure as hell knew the taste of your lips. Fuck. You were fun to kiss.

He found that out especially so when you stumbled with him through the hazes of booze and bright lights. His hands were all over you from the crowd to the bar. He bought you a drink, then two. Let you pipe on about how you're so happy you can unwind after exam week. He finds out you're a student at his uni. Well ain't that convenient?

"Mechanical huh?"

"Yup! First year."

"Well if you need a tutor," his lips smile into the rim of his glass. Glossy emerald eyes flicker over in time for you giggle. Your hand shoves at his arm. Electric. Your touch, your eyes. Everything about you.

So eager too. You just slipped off of his lap after another steamy makeout. Did you even remember his name? "You offerrin' me something, 'essio?" Seems you do. He quite likes it on your tongue.

His hand falls back to your thigh, just as greedy. A calloused thumb strokes along the fabric of your pants. If he could he'd dig in here and now. You'd love the feel of his silver rings clamped round your thighs as he split your pretty little hole open. "Maybe I am. It working?"

What a charmer. His words couple with a grin and a wink. Dangerous. That's the only way to describe. But like most forbidden things, the man donned in silver and black drips with allure.

You are no saint. Indulge, why don't you?

What else were you to do? Pass up on a guy who's so evidently packing something in his ripped black jeans? No way in hell. You snatched him up the second you could. A second make-out, then a third. All the way back to your apartment.

The door shut and the next second he shows you his strength. Wraps large hands round your thighs and hoists you up. Shoves you back into the wall just as his tongue does your mouth. Chills wash over you as a silver piercing graces your pink muscle so graciously. How friendly.

Alessio's far from a patient man. He'll tongue kiss you breathless all while stripping haphazardly at your clothes. Chuckle when you whine and buck at the hand that had just been pre-occupying itself with your pleasure. Another cute thing — your dick in his palm. Especially how it squirts and twitches all over.

"Pobrecito," his tongue clicks beside your ear. His hand returns to your hard cock and squeezes at the head once - twice - as he drops you down into your sheets. Handling you and your furniture as if he owned the damn place. "Too greedy for a man you just met? Or are ya just that pent up?"

The jerky motion of his palm is cruel. You hiccup and he makes sure to kiss on your adam's apple while you grind into the calloused feel. "Please," you quiver. "Please - please please."

Warmth withdraws, you nearly whine and reach for his hair to cling. "Oh baby I haven't even stretched you out yet." Spit streaks your hole, he's got good aim. You can't really appreciate it as his words run rampant through your mind.

Stretch you out? "I can take it - jus' need some lube. I'm not a virgin." So proudly you say it and yet - the shadow of emerald peering down at you renders you nearly timid. He chuckles, deep and dark as his thumb flicks across your tip.

"Aww that's cute."

His free hand circles fingers at your rim. The centre of his brows crease and knit upwards as he croons while you throb around his slowly inching fingers. "That so? Please." Another snicker. Cocky bastard. But maybe he's right, with the way two fingers stuff you up you're suddenly reconsidering what he might be hiding down there.

He'll stretch you out on his fingers more than once. It's slow for the first round. You wonder if that's what he prefers — but the second has you jerking, crying as he fucks his fingers in till the knuckle. So effortless too. Like he's done this multiple times before.

Seems like it. The way he croons and cooes at you tells you he's said these words before. The way he so expertly know where to curl his criminally long and thick fingers only motivates the fact. He'd get you off twice like that. Lean down and kiss your sticky tip so messily before he finally backs off.

What the fuck. Oh that's more than you could have ever imagined. His fat cockhead slaps back into him. Tall and proud with throbs at his tip to match. And that vein that pulses on the underside? You lick your lips to restrain the urge to swoop down and suckle on it. Not that he'd give you a chance with the snatch to your thighs that yanks you to the end of the bed, his cock rests atop your thigh. Fuck — it's heavy too.

He asks if you're ready. What a gentleman. As if he wasn't making you cream on his fingers just a second ago. Caresses your sides and positions. He even made sure to jerk you off a bit while he pushed in. Maybe he's addicted to your pleasure.

Pop! The tip alone has you straining. You squeeze out lube he drizzled all over combined with his saliva. What's Alessio doing? Grinning. As he splits you open on his cock and grips your waist when you try to squirm. Yanks you back down on his dick so that your ass is spread wide as he jams between your legs.

"This the same cock you said you could take hermoso?"

Skin slaps wet and rapid. Plap plap plap! His balls smack against your ass. Strong hands yank you down on every plough of his cock. You're drooling. Loopy. Head limped into the sheets and hands barely gripping anymore.

A mess of your cum stains your thighs and splatters your tummy. Runs down your poor abused ass to mix with Alessio's seed. He's pumped you full who-knows how many times.

And he's still going.

Your dick squirts more when he grabs it with his free hand that's not got your thigh hunched over his muscled shoulder in a tight slot. "Answer me pretty boy." Even his hiss drips with sex appeal.

You try to nod. Try to speak. How can you when he starts bullying a gummy spot so deep inside. Knocking so roughly. Sloshing up your heat with sprays of more cum. How isn't he stopping?

"C-Can - can take it - can take - hngh - 'e-essiiioooooo I can't takkeee iiitttt."

With a shaky hand you pathetically clamp on his bicep. You want him close. And he's so gracious for a man you just met. He drops his weight and squishes you in half. Pours kisses down your neck as he slams all the way. Throbs a few times. Then shallowly fucks you through another orgasm.

You search for his lips. Messy. Just like the kiss he wretches your jaw into. Oh how he suffocates you. How he pumps you full and has your smaller body creaming all over him.

"Tha's what I thought. Yeah. Fucking whore thought he could take me first try huh?" He keeps a grip tight around your jaw when he parts from your lips. Saliva is the only connecting. Strings of slick just like down below where your tight ass spurts messes of cum again and again.

"Right baby? You can take it. Not a virgin after all - fuckk - so take it!"

Another slam. Your body jerks on the bed. You tear nails down his back and sniffle out a sob as you spray his toned abdomen again. The knot in your tummy is tight. Legs tremble on his shoulders. "Please - pleasepleasee-ease-easseeee"

How pathetic. All Alessio can do is chuckle along the crook of your neck as he paints hickies in return of your cum that decorates him.

He thought you were cute at the party alone. But you're fucking adorable when you struggle to take his cock.

  Despite the roughness he'll pepper soft kisses all over your face once it's over. Hoist you up into his big arms and carry you to the bathroom. How the hell isn't he spent? You can barely see straight!

You'd be in and out of consciousness but he'll make sure to clean you up. Get you nice and comfortable in your bed before slotting in beside you.

You're surprised to see he's still there in the morning. In your kitchen - making you food? "An apology for wrecking your ass." He jokes. You could get used to this. . . but it's just a one night stand, right? You're reminded of that once he's out the door.

Well. Until later that night when your phone pings. When did you give him your number??

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[randomshyperson]

hi friend!!!

for your drabble thing, could you do

wanda + kisses + number 56?

i have so many i wanted to see but this one climbed to the top of the list immediately <3

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompts: angry kisses | warnings: arguing, roughly making out, some angst(ish) conversations, takes place during civil war.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

You met Wanda shortly before she joined a neo-Nazi organization in search of power, so you weren't surprised that she could be quite the stubborn and reckless person but that didn't mean you couldn't get annoyed by it.

When all the drama of Steve and Tony's divorce that they called work differences fell upon the Avengers, you expected to escape into a comfortable retirement with your girlfriend like Barton did for his family, but you returned to the tower only to find the two of them packing their bags.

The hole in the building's structure and the robot at the end of it were ignored by you as you joined them in the white secure van Barton got for their escape.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and as the route stretched out into the suburbs of San Francisco in search of yet another hero to help Team America, Wanda began to get equally irritated with the silent treatment.

Barton left you two alone in the van, determined to convince Scott Lang to fight for Cap and almost content to leave the tense atmosphere between you even if only for a few minutes. He practically ran away once he was out of the car, but neither you nor Wanda seemed very willing to break the silence.

Sitting with a seat between you, the distance seemed terribly greater than just a few inches of cotton.

Wanda, being the telepath that she is, suddenly groaned in an attempt to read the mess that was your thoughts and emotions right now.

To her reaction, you snorted softly before muttering; "Unbelievable."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a defensive position at being reprimanded for her bad habits of breaking other people's privacy. "You can't blame me. You haven't said a word in 12 hours." She grumbled irritably, and you felt a migraine forming from the small invasion from before. Or maybe it was the constant stress of dating a witch with such a difficult personality.

Finally, you snapped.

"What exactly do you expect me to say, Wanda?"

Her frown deepens, but you don’t flinch. Now that it’s started, you have a hard time not shouting out the emotions that have been bottled up for the past few hours.

“I leave you alone for five minutes, and you get a government target on your back!”

She snorts in disbelief, turning her face toward you. "Steve needs my help!"

"None of this is your problem!" You immediately contradict.

"I owe him!" She insists and doesn't flinch at your ironic chuckle. "He gave me a second chance after Ultron, you know that."

"I gave you a second chance!" You retort irritably, your tone louder. Wanda swallows hard. "And a third, and a fourth. All I do is give you chances, Wanda. But you never choose me!"

Her eyes fill with tears. From hurt, frustration, or anger you can't tell. But you know the same tears are in your eyes too.

You don't shout again, but the firmness of your tone makes her shiver as if you were.

"I spent months going to congressional meetings and taking care of all the paperwork to make you a legal citizen of this country. I made a normal, civil life possible for us. And you threw it all away because Clint Barton asked you to. And I can't forgive you for that."

Wanda sighs in frustration. "I really wish you were able to understand that things are not that simple."

She uncrosses her arms, to adjust her hair back in a nervous gesture.

You tilt your head gently. The smell of Wanda's shampoo filled the car as she played with her hair, and you feel slightly intoxicated, as if anger was a background in your mind, and your focus was on the pleasant scent of your girlfriend.

She continues speaking as she turns her body towards you. "Of course I value and am grateful for all the effort you put into our relationship, into our future. But I am still someone who can move things with her mind. I am an Avenger. And when they need me, I have to show up."

"What about when I need you?"

She hesitates, frowning. You hurt her with the accusation, but you don't apologize. Neither does she.

"Don't be like that." She says, risking trying to touch your wrist resting on the seat. You huff, pulling your arm away. It’s your turn to cross your arms, shielding yourself from her attempts to get close, to change your mind. “Baby, look at me.” You turn your face further away, toward the window. 

“I’ll tell Rogers to go fuck himself and find someone else. I’m not going to join this nonsense for the ghost of a man he once loved.” 

“No one asked you to” she mutters, and you gasp in indignation. It’s true, of course. The invitation was never extended to you, maybe because the team knew your neutral stance. Or maybe because you would have told them all to fuck off if it meant putting Wanda in danger, or risking the life you planned with her. She tries to fix her words next. “Even though I’m glad you’re here with me—” 

“Oh come on.” You interrupt her in annoyance. "You said the words, now fucking own it. You don't want me here? Fine. I'll leave you to throw punches and energy balls at each other. Maybe you'll find another city or building to blow up around here."

It's too far. There's no healing a wound like the fall of Sokovia, and Lagos is fresh enough that Wanda feels anger take over her actions for a moment.

The slap isn't hard, but it's precise and burns your cheek.

She feels a hot tear run down her face, but she's busy choking on her own breath when you suddenly lunge at her.

There's an attempt to hit you again, but your hands grab her wrists, and instead of moving forward, you pull her body against yours. That's all there is for a moment; a small war of pushing and pulling, because the black widow trained two great fighters but then, Wanda is pressing her mouth to yours with all the conflicting feelings she's feeling at this moment. From anger and resentment to the burning, pulsating love she's felt for you since the first moment you looked at her. You kiss her back with the same intensity. Your experienced tongue doesn't ask for permission, and the kiss is dirty and sloppy, the sounds of your breathless moans mixing as you push your bodies together in a nearly physical fight for dominance.

Wanda ends up completely pressed against the van's seat, your warm body on top of hers pinning her against the cushion. She can't contain the pleading, whimpering sounds she makes as she feels your hands roaming so urgently under her blouse, and under her skirt. She closes her legs to trap your hand where she wants it, but you clamp your other hand over her throat in warning, and she kicks out a submissive whimper that makes you grunt aroused against her mouth.

Your tongue grows hungrier, exploring every corner of her mouth as you turn Wanda into an aroused, impatient mess beneath you. Just when she’s ready to beg for your hands to stop squeezing her tits and move to where she’s burning, you pull away at once.

She protests with a groan, her body vibrating in all the right places and her mind dizzy with arousal. You look equally breathless and affected, but you do a much better job of containing yourself, especially when the door suddenly opens.

It takes Wanda a moment to disguise her state and understand that you only pulled away because you had heard the commotion outside. You weren’t rejecting her, or teasing her. You were trying to keep it PG13 in front of the other two superheroes.

Scott Lang is talkative. A bit clueless, despite seeming intelligent, he’s too excited to realize what was going on, and he’s the perfect distraction to occupy them while you and Wanda normalize your breathing and heartbeats. 

Still, after Lang falls asleep after spending three hours telling her about how awesome it was to help the Avengers and other prison stories, Clint meets her gaze in the rearview mirror and doesn't say out loud: 

"I'm going to assume the guilty faces and torn clothes are because you girls managed to sort things out." 

She's kind of impressed that the entire team, even Clint who's been nearly one hundred percent retired since she joined, has learned to organize their thoughts enough that she can communicate telepathically with them. But she's too embarrassed right now to focus on pride. With a warm face, she steals a glance at your figure before looking at Clint's reflection again and nodding in agreement. 

He smiles wordlessly.

She turns her attention back to your sulking posture on the other side of the car.

Not wanting to wake Scott, her words echo inside your head.

"Are you really leaving?"

You huff softly, and Wanda is ready to give up on pressuring you to talk when she feels your hand on her thigh, her breath labored as you adjust to let your hand rest there on her warm skin, just at the edge of her skirt for what would be appropriate.

It's not a real apology, but it's a start. She bites back a smile, and risks speaking in her mind again:

"I'll make it up to you."

There's a gentle squeeze on her thigh, that brings a deep flush to her neck and spreads heat throughout her body. She looks forward, almost mortified that Clint might have noticed, but lucky he just keeps driving.

"Yes, you will." That's what you mentally assure her.

[heavyhitterheaux]

GQ Couples Quiz

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: You and your favorite person in the world decide to participate in the GQ Couples Quiz

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The two of you were sitting across from one another as the cameras had begun rolling and Joe was all smiles as he stared back at you which made your face instantly heat up and a laugh escaped from your mouth.

“Why are you laughing? We haven't even started yet!” Joe asked you as he also started laughing.

“Because you're staring at me!”

“So, I can’t look at my wife anymore? Where do you want me to look? The floor?”

“I didn't say that!”

“Are you going to laugh the entire time? How are we supposed to get through the questions?”

“As long as you're on your best behavior we shouldn't have a problem.” You told him as you shuffled the cards in your lap.

“I think that you need to take your own advice. Anyway, I'm Joe Burrow and this is my wife….”

“Y/N Chase-Burrow.”

“I… since when is your name hyphenated? That isn't on your driver’s license.” Joe asked you with a confused look on his face.

“It’s not. I just did that for dramatic effect. And to see you make that face.” You answered with a smile as Joe gave you a blank stare.

“See, she’s starting already.”

“I'm definitely asking you all the hard questions.” You told him and he scoffed.

“And I know that I'm going to get them all right.” Joe replied as he winked at you, making your face heat up once more.

“We have to get through this in one sitting so stop looking at me like that! Okay, first question. I'll go easy on you and then they'll get harder.”

“I'm listening…” Joe told you as he sat up straighter in his chair.

“What's my full name?”

“Seriously? Y/N Katherine Chase-Burrow. You're named after your grandmother on your mother's side.”

“I thought you said my name wasn't hyphenated?” You asked as you eyed him.

“I… you said it first so I just repeated it. Next question, please.”

“Okay, where was I born?”

“Harvey, Louisiana. You were born at 3:36 in the morning while your twin was born at 3:39 even though you swear your parents found him in a dumpster behind Popeyes.”

“That’s my story and I'm sticking to it. And look at you trying to get extra brownie points. I didn't even know you knew what time that I was born.”

“I have my sources.”

“The sources being my mother, but moving on. What is my secret hidden talent?” You asked Joe and he was about to say something, but stopped.

“And keep this PG Burrow! I see you over there smirking.”

“I… you know what? I'm not even going to go there. Your hidden talent is that you're a really good baker. You don't do it as much as you did when we were at LSU, so when you do I tend to eat the entire thing.”

“Good job, baby. That's the one that I was thinking about. Okay, what's my favorite meal?”

“You don't really have one. But if I had to choose it's chicken parm. Now if we're talking cheat meals, you love tacos and pizza.”

“My husband knows me like the back of his hand.”

“I told you that I would get each one right.”

“Calm down, we aren't done yet.” You told him and he made a face at you.

“What's my favorite song to dance to around the house?”

“Juvenile, Back That Ass Up. Cash money taking over for the 99 and the 2000's.” Joe replied without hesitation, making you laugh.

“Still remember Erin and Alisha requesting that at our wedding reception.” He added as you went to the next card.

“How many Olympic medals do I have?”

“Four because my wife is amazing.”

“Aww. And what was the music that I used that has been my all time favorite floor routine that I did at LSU?”

“It was between the Prince or Beyoncé medley.”

“What was our first date?”

“Officially or unofficially? I feel like this could be a trick question.”

“Hmm, unofficially.”

“It was the day after we first met and we went on a breakfast date and we talked about how nervous I was going from a backup quarterback to being a starter.” Joe smiled at you as he remembered that day.

“And I told you that you were going to be amazing and look at how what I spoke into existence came true. When did we first tell each other ‘I love you’?”

“It was even before we officially became a couple since we had been friends first. But in a sense, you were actually the one who said it first.”

“Very true and I was scared out of my mind how you were going to take it.”

“But why? You knew that I liked you.” Joe asked as he smiled at you.

“Maybe because I fell so hard and so fast and I was hoping that everything would work out and it did since I now have a ring on my finger.” You told him as you held up your left hand to show the camera.

“You want to know when I knew that I was going to ask you to marry me?”

“I thought I was asking the questions, but yes tell me because I have no idea.”

“That summer after your first year at LSU and you came to visit me in Athens for two weeks. I saw how much my family loved you and how you fit in perfectly with us. When you left, I started designing your ring.”

Hearing him say this, your eyes went wide as your mouth hung open.

“Seriously?” You asked him as tears pricked your eyes.

“And I actually bought it during my rookie season.”

“You love me real bad, don't you?”

“Yes, and that doesn't even begin to cover it.”

“Last one before we switch. How do you know when I'm mad at you?”

“Easy, you call me by my first name. My full first name and give me that look.”

“What look?”

“It’s just a look you do and I know that I'm in trouble.” Joe told you as he finally held up his cards.

“You ready, wifey?”

“I was born ready, thank you.” You replied as you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

“Okay and I'm going easy on you for the first question and that's it. Where was I born?”

“Ames, Iowa. Give me a hard one.”

“What award did I win in my senior year of high school and what year was it?”

“Mr. Football and Gatorade player of the year in 2014. That wasn't hard.”

“Okay, then Mrs. Burrow, how many rushing touchdowns did I get in high school?”

“27.”

“I… I had no idea that you actually knew that.”

“I make it my business to know everything.” You answered as you fixed your necklace.

“Hmm, just like older siblings. But, moving on. Favorite dessert my mom makes me and favorite dessert that you make me?”

“Snickers salad and my strawberry cheesecake. “

“Can you tell me how many awards I got at LSU and name five of them?”

“16 in total. Hmm, only five? The Heisman, Johnny Unitas Golden Arm, Lombardi award, Walter Camp award, and unanimous all american. All of them you won in 2019.”

“Damn. At this rate, you probably know my playbook better than I do too.” Joe told you as he laughed with you joining in right along with him.

“I would definitely agree with that.”

“My favorite nickname for you?”

“Princess or baby doll.” You sweetly said as you twirled the end of your curly hair around your finger.

“What is my biggest fear?”

“Career wise or in general?”

“In general.”

“Now I think this one I actually don't know.”

“You do know and I'll give you a hint. Losing.”

“Losing? I'm still not sure.” You told him as you were trying to think of what he could possibly mean.

“Losing you. We've come close to it, so let's not do that again.” Joe quietly answered as you nodded.

“Promise not to.”

“What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?”

“Kiss me and tell me you love me! And sometimes that wakes me up too.”

“Despite how grumpy you usually are.”

“Well yeah especially when you wake me up at 5 in the morning.”

“Last one, babe. I'll give you two points if you get this right. What was the degree I got at OSU and the degree I got at LSU?”

“At OSU, you finished in 3 years and your degree was in family and consumer financial services. At LSU, your masters is in liberal arts. Actually surprised you got that one since you had been all up on me ever since you got to Baton Rouge. Yall I never saw this man study. Our study sessions would turn into make out sessions every single time.”

“They would not! And I did study!”

“I'll ask my twin for confirmation, but he didn't even graduate so he's probably not the best person to ask.”

“Ask him when we leave. Anyway, you did amazing. You know me pretty well.” Joe told you as you scoffed.

“I would hope so. I'm married to you and we're locked in for life.”

“Yeah, I like you so I guess I'll keep you.” Joe told you as you gave him a blank stare.

“What do you mean you guess?!”

“And there we have it. That concludes our GQ couples quiz. See you guys next time.”

“Joseph! Answer my question!”

“Uh oh.”

[willieverseetheland]

like you mean it (pt. 1)

Dexter Morgan x fem!reader

Summary: You haven't felt very appreciated by your (serial killer) boyfriend recently, so he shows you how much he really cares.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, implied smut, language

Pt. 2

From the moment that you met Dexter, you knew he wasn't like everyone else. He can be a little socially inept at times, as well as insensitive. However, at the same time, he's incredibly loving, charming, and funny. You love him and all his quirks. Compared to the men you’ve been with in the past, he’s a saint. He's respectful, kind, and you actually feel safe with him.

But at the end of the day, he’s still a man.

He has a hard time seeing things from your perspective, which can cause a lot of arguments, that are almost always one-sided. You try not to nag but it's hard feeling like the only one putting in effort. He often forgets the things that you tell him. You figure he doesn't find importance in the same things that you do. Lately you've been feeling a little neglected. Monday you asked him to come over for dinner, but he said he was busy. Wednesday you asked him to go lunch with you on his lunch break, he said he was busy yet again. You had a movie date planned for Friday; he bailed last minute because he was...busy.

You always get excited thinking he’s going to say yes, planning cute outfits, spending time on your makeup and hair, all for him to say no. You end up sitting on your couch in front of the tv, with a pint of ice cream instead.

Finally you convinced him to come over tonight. You would love for it to be a relaxing and romantic night, but you know you need to have a talk with him. You hate having these talks because it can feel like talking to a brick wall at times. You know he means well; he just doesn't see it the same way or doesn't even mean to make these mistakes in the first place. But it is hurting you, and you're tired of feeling like your boyfriend doesn't want you.

Of course, he won't be here until late. He has to "take care of a few things first". You knew blood-spatter analysis was a complicated job, but you didn't think it would require this much overtime...

Even though you're slightly mad at him, you don't want him to starve so you make dinner for the two of you. As you're setting the table you hear your apartment door unlock.

In walks Dexter, with his adorable face and dorky smile. You may be irritated but you can't help but smile at the sight of him.

"I made dinner, would you like a beer?" you ask

"Sure" he says with a soft smile

He comes over to give you a kiss on the forehead. You make a half-ass smile in response. When you don't kiss him back or even look at him, he can tell something is wrong.

"What did I do?" he frowns

You immediately sigh

"Dexter, I...I just feel like you don't care. About me, about us."

"What? That's not true at all, why do you think that?" He exclaims

"You've been so distant recently. Gone all the time, always bailing on our dates, always busy, you hardly call or text! I just wish you would put in a little more effort, that's all." You can feel tears begin to form; you didn't realize you were this upset about it.

"Y/n, you know I'm busy with this case, they just really need me right now." He's looking at you, looking through you. You can't read any emotion or remorse on his face. This only makes you want to cry more.

"It feels like I don't mean anything to you! I feel like you don't want me anymore." You can feel your face getting hot and your chest tightening. "Fuck, do not cry right now" you think.

You bring your hands to your face, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to ward off the tears.

"What do you mean? Of course you matter to me; I've just been busy." he has a look of confusion, like he can't understand why you would feel this way. He's here now, isn't that all that matters?

"Well, it just doesn't feel like you mean that."

"Well I do, you're my girlfriend, of course I want you." he sighs

"Then prove it! Show me that you mean it." You look into his eyes, you think you finally see it, regret, remorse, guilt.

He brings his hand up to your cheek, he finally sees how upset you are. You sink into his touch, stepping closer to him.

"How? Change? How do you want me to show you that I want you? That I care?" He's looking into your eyes, brows furrowed.

Even with all the hurt and anger, all you want to do in this moment is kiss him. Feel his body against yours. Not only has it been long since you've had any quality time or even a deep conversation, but you also haven't had sex in weeks. You feel guilty for thinking that in this moment, but you just want to feel close to him, connected.

You place your hand over his

"Stay the night. Be with me... Fuck me, like you mean it. Like you want me, like you care."

SURPRISE BITCHESSSS! I told y'all I was on my writing GRIND. If you want a part 2 lmk! Someone return the favor and write Dex fics for me please and ty <3

[sannasruins]

you had a choice

mark grayson x reader

type: angst, unrequited feelings, honestly idk

warnings: reader is the one with unrequited feelings, gn!reader but term "other girl" is used

a/n: i made the reader a bit more complicated in this fic, i honestly don't think they are wholly right in their approach, but are acting human and in a way i think many including myself might act. also i tried to keep to the cannon time line of season one but i haven't watched it in a few months and am basing it off the wiki so if there are any mistakes, don't at me

word count: 2.1k

You had known Mark since the two of you were young children, with your mother being a famous superhero, she and omni-man often socialized. You would attend his birthday parties, go on play dates with him, and as the two of you got older, his house would become a refuge for you when yours was empty. The two of you would play Mario Kart and Wii Sports in his living room, ordering pizza and talking about the newest Seance Dog comic that was out.

You were there to watch him grow, and change from the Mark that you had known to the Mark that he is today. There when he had his first crush in middle school, and when your chest weirdly hurt when he told you about her, you assumed you were just jealous at the idea of him spending time with someone more than you, and that it was nothing else.

But, you became more aware of him, flushing red when he leaned in close to you to see what you were holding or to murmur a comment to you under his breath. Blushing when he complimented you on a high score in a game or congratulated you for getting a good grade on a hard test. You would try to look nice around him, wearing pretty clothes and using the expensive perfume you got for your birthday. You would laugh at every joke he made, even if they weren’t especially funny, and you always smiled when you saw him.

He never noticed all your efforts though, poor oblivious Mark.

As the two of you entered high school, you started to notice the way some other girls would look at Mark, they looked at him almost in the same way that you did. But you told yourself that they didn’t know him like you did, they were not justified in their longing gazes.

You were there for Mark, his only peer he could talk to as he struggled with his lack of powers and feelings of letting down his father. Nobody else could support him in the way that you could, and did. You understood his struggle, being the child of a super hero yourself, you had expected that one day you would have powers manifest, but they hadn’t come yet if they were going to come at all.

And you were there to celebrate when he did get his powers, jumping with joy, holding his hands and telling him how proud of him you were, and how you knew he was going to be such a great hero.

When mark met Amber, you felt something form in your stomach, it was hard and it was cold, and every time you saw him looking at her, you were made aware of its freezing presence inside of you.

When you found out that Mark had managed to get a study date with Amber, the thing in your stomach seemed to double in size, filling you with bitter iciness that you didn’t fully understand. You tried to dissuade him from the date, telling him that he doesn’t need to be worrying about dating when he just got his powers, he should be training and starting his hero reputation.

“Thank you for your advice,” he told you, “But I don’t really think you could even understand what you’re talking about, its not like you have powers to speak from experience.”

His words bit at you, and he saw the hurt on your face, and he immediately felt regret for his harsh words.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed running a hand through his dark locks, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that, I really like her, and you trying to dissuade me just isn’t cool with me.”

You nodded and apologized to him too, saying you’ll keep your opinion out of his choice of dates and dating.

You were there when he told you about the kiss he had shared with Amber in his bedroom, talking about how sweet and understanding she was, despite the fact that he had left her for over an hour on their date with no explanation to go save Mt. Rushmore.

You again felt the chill in your stomach spread, reaching up to wrap its way around your chest.

“That’s great Mark, I’m glad it went well.” You smiled and told him, but neither he nor really you noticed that your words weren’t truthful.

You watched as he grew closer to Amber, despite his erratic behavior with being a hero, and he would gush to you all the time about how it was going with her, and how much he liked her, and so on.

And as he went through the trials and tribulations of being both a boyfriend and a superhero, you found yourself, someone who used to spend hours upon hours with him, the person who was once closest to him, being pushed to the side, forgotten, and neglected.

He would cancel the plans the two of you had made to reschedule a date with Amber that he had missed or messed up.  

When Amber dumped him after Mark didn’t show up to volunteer at the community center because he was out saving the world and got severely injured. You were the one at his bedside, holding his hand and tearfully looking at your best friend’s bruised and battered face.

You were called by Debbie and told that he had woken up, you rushed to his side, relief flooding over you as your eyes met his, and you smiled at him and sat down on his hospital bed.

The first thing he asked you however, brought back the freezing pit that you had forgotten since he had been so badly injured.

“How’s Amber?”

Your face morphed from smile to something between shock and disgust, before you quickly fixed it back into a now forced and small smile.

“She said she dumped you for ghosting.” You answered his inquiry, not trying to sugar coat your words at all.

“What?” he asked, and his face fell.

“Mark,” you told him, your voice softening for the boy who you care so deeply for, for your best friend who you love and only want the best for, “I think maybe you should let it be. You can’t keep doing this where you’re dating someone who doesn’t understand that you have a greater purpose, and more important commitments than just them. You can’t date someone who doesn’t know that you’re Invincible.”

He looked at you angrily, “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t comment on my relationship anymore.”

“…yeah.” You responded quietly and left his hospital room. Watching him go through this off and on, riding the seas of emotional turmoil over some high school relationship, hurt you. You didn’t want to see him struggle or be sad, he was still your best friend, at least in your eyes.

Once Mark was able to, he went to Amber and begged for forgiveness, which she for some reason granted to him. And to top it off, he then went on a weekend trip to a see a college with his once again newly reinstated girlfriend and Willaim, leaving you behind because you didn’t want to watch the two of them being together all weekend. You just told Mark that you didn’t want to fifth wheel when he invited you.

You were there when he came for you after that weekend, in incredible emotional distress, and told you about the fight he had with Amber, and that she had broken up with him again. Worst of all, he told you that he had revealed to her that he was Invincible to try to get her to understand him, in a last-ditch effort to win her back. And still after having that closely held secret told to her, and still having her turn him away.

You sat by him as he poured his heart out to you with watery eyes. But as you watched him, you felt the frigid cold in your stomach and chest spread even further, up into your throat, out into your arms, and down your legs.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He said to you weepily, “I thought she would understand if I told her, if I explained everything to her. I thought it would be alright.”

You didn’t respond and just looked at him, you didn’t know what you were feeling but it was a foreign feeling that you have never had before while looking at Mark. You felt tired, and almost apathetic.  

“I don’t know Mark.”

He continued on, rambling about how he thought he could fix it, and now how he can’t think of anything to make things better.

He turned to you after you hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, the only sound in the room being your slow breathing and his occasional sniffle.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked

“I don’t know Mark,” you said once again.

And then you got up, and walked out of your bedroom, leaving a confused Mark Grayson behind you.

You knelt frozen in front of your tv as you and most of the world watched the fight between Omni-Man and Invincible destroyed Chicago. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched your best friend and his father, a man you had been close to since childhood, fought, causing death and destruction through out their super powered path. You felt horror, and selfishly, feared for Mark’s life more than anything.

You were there, when Mark awoke at the GDA hospital, sleeping on top of your folded arms that lay on his bed as you sat by his side.

You had been there for days, sitting sometimes with others who would come see him, but most of the time it was just you and Debbie, watching his swollen sleeping face, and wishing for him to wake up.

Mark looked at you, and around the room, and then back to you, with bags under your closed eyes, messy hair and most likely days old clothes.

It suddenly clicked for him, that you alone had always been there. Since a time before he could fully recall, you had been there. And here you were once again, by his side. He began to weep. Feelings of gratefulness and adoration flooded him.

You awoke slowly to the quiet sounds of Mark crying, but once you realized what the sound you were heard as, you jumped to your feet and looked at Mark. Worry morphing your face.

“Are you in pain?” you asked, quickly looking over him, as if you could find the source of his tears and presumed pain, and make them stop.

Mark reached out and grabbed your hand, and your eyes drew to his face. He shook his head.

“No, I’m not,” then he winced when you sat on the bed, shifting its weight and causing him to also shift, and added, “well maybe a little sore but that’s not what’s wrong.”

You watched him expectantly, still holding his hand, waiting for him to go on, wanting to know what was going on and how you could help fix it.

“I…” he started and stopped, clearing his throat that was rough from its lack of use and nerves, “I think I am in love with you.”

Your blood ran cold. The freeze made itself known once more, settling deep inside of you, in a place you could never take it out. It took over torso, and quickly seeped into your limbs, before finally it made its way to your head.

You pulled your hand away from his.

“What?” you asked, and though it just one word, the question came out harsh and sharp.

“I just realized now,” he explained to you, “that you’re the one that’s always been here. You’re the one who understands me. You’re the one who I need in my life, the only one able.”

You frowned at him, “So, I’m the most convenient? The one who is content with being push to the side, so you can prioritize other things? Who already knows who you are, what you are, so you don’t have to explain to the next girl you date?”

“No no no,” he shook his head, looking desperate to get his point across, “that’s not what I mean at all.”

“Forget it Mark,” you told him, standing up from his bed and taking a step back. “You were too busy loving another girl to notice that I was there, loving you.”

He looked at you, distress showed on his damaged face.

“I didn’t know,” he half whispered dejectedly.

“I’m pretty sure it was obvious Mark, if you ever once looked my way and actually truly saw me, and the way that I looked at you.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“It’s too late Mark. You had a choice, and you chose wrong.”

[uravitypng]

bird creature/hybrid keigo takami x chubby reader

KINKTOBER: breeding (+praise)

word count: 3.0k words / mdni ! 18+ / this turned into a full on fic and is pretty fluffy tbh <3 it has more plot than porn sdfgjhbmfbxfvcbsxn and i haven't read it through properly but ssshhhh

being kicked out of your party sucks, 'you don't fill the roll of beast tamer' or something, they've found someone more skilled and experienced so now you're stuck alone in the middle of a forest after accepting a quest which you currently regret taking.

it should be a simple herb collection quest but it's being more of a hassle than it's worth, you shred off the top layers of your clothes and tie it around your waist, dropping your sheep hide bag and gulping down some of your water. after a while you stumble across a clearing with a lake and it looks like you'll finally be able to have room to properly set up your tent.

you don't realise but you're being watched. golden brown eyes piercing down at you, watching you with hawk-eyed vision on high alert to his surroundings. you met him the following morning, as you were leaving your tent something suddenly blocked out the sunlight before landing next to you. a bird creature was in front of you or maybe he was a hybrid, you weren't sure but he was rather intimidating. this man has bright red feather wings with a huge wing span and sandy blonde and white small fluffy parts on his arms and chest covered with a brown flimsy tunic with a handsome human face with golden eyes and blonde windswept hair. you're already quite fearful but after you spot his talons that look like they could slice you in half you really start panicking.

you were able to calm down when he smiled and held out his hand, you flinched first but in his palms where berries. you know those berries, they were edible, very rare and very tasty. later you found out his name was keigo but everyone call him hawks, when he told you this he also told you that he wanted you to call him keigo. he has limited human speech and it was hard to communicate with each other but you both tried your best.

you don't know this but when you accepted the berries he gave you in his mind that made you his mate, it solidified it in his mind and he was very happy that you accepted his advances. he's your provider and he has to look after you. you don't know that he thinks like that though.

you should of left the forest weeks ago, there was no reason for you to stay... well apart from keigo. you knew he would stay in the forest it's his home, you couldn't ask him to go with you and why would he? 'i probably care about him a lot more than he does me, which is fine! he likely has plenty of friends and his own kind in the forest, i just miss company after what happened with my old party... i like his company.' you can't bring yourself to leave, not yet, even if that means you're getting close to the rainy season, and it's always dangerous to be out in the wild in the rainy season. it's so easy to wind up dead, your body never found either downstream or at the bottom of cliffs that people can't access.

"shit!" you were foresting for some berries when you felt a drop of rain fall on your head, that drop turned into ten, then twenty, then fifty, all in a matter of seconds. you nearly fell as you tried to turn back to the somewhat safer option of your tent but the ground below you quickly became mud and slippy causing you to trip, luckily you were able to catch yourself on a nearby tree before falling face first and getting back as fast but safely as you can.

you're soaked to the bone and as the tent finally meets your eyeline it's getting you to walk quicker. you hear something above and you look up the best you can, covering your eyes with your hand but still somehow some water gets in your eyes, looking above you see hawks flying to you. "keigo, what are you doing?! go home, get in the tent, get anywhere. i know it might be different for you, i know you're less fragile than me but it's still raining heavily. what if there's lightning!" you shout at him to the sky.

keigo lands down, water slashing you in the process and getting mud on your trousers. he's careful as he pulls you towards him, making sure his talons won't hurt you and you're pressed against his body, "come." you're confused and you try to move so you can reach your tent but as you look behind you your back straightens as you see your tent. you don't even know if you could call it a tent anymore. the wind has blown it so much that it's just broken cut up fabric tied down by one singular peg, the others already blown away. "come," he repeats himself and pulls you closer towards his warm body before flying away, you can't help but scream as you lift up off the ground and you swear over the rain you can hear keigo laugh. you always wondered what it would be like if he took you up in his wings to fly, you've always thought they were so majestic but you never envisioned it going like this.

it's hard to hear and talk over the heavy patter of the rain but you try anyway. "keigo where are we going?"

"home," he replies and you hear him loud and clear, you don't know if that's because he's louder than the rain or leaning close to you or if you hear it loud and clear because your heart is just beating out of your chest at the answer.

it seemed like a long while of flying but when you finally reached the floor keigo carefully landed and put you down. looking around to where you are you see that you're outside a cave but you don't know that you can call it a cave anymore. at a quick glance from the outside it looks like it was originally a cave but the opening is covered by rocks, wood and other building materials, keeping the inside warm and dry. there's a wooden door to the side and you think you can see a lock on it. the outside reminded you a lot of your childhood home but you can't pinpoint why. "come," he grabs your wrist cautiously with his talons and leads you inside.

a blast of heat hits you when you enter and you immediately warm up, even if it's just a little bit through your wet clothes. it looks pretty barren apart from some small trinkets along the wall and the bed is covered in blankets and other fluffy comfortable things, definitely more comfortable than anything you've been sleeping recently. you stay where you are not moving from the door, not wanting to get everything wet. keigo leaves but comes back a minute or so after with a towel for you and second one in his hand for him.

"thank you," you say quietly and shyly taking the towel from him. after doing your best to dry your hair and dry the rest of your clothes keigo leans down to your neck and nuzzles you while cooing, heat quickly rises to your cheeks and he pulls back and takes you further into his home before dropping your hand and he goes back into one of his back rooms.

you miss his hand in yours but when he returns he's holding a shirt, "for you."

"me?" you point to yourself and he nods. "i don't know if it will fit, i might be a bit small." you tell him but he looks back at you with an easygoing smile that puts you at ease. you know it probably won't fit right, you're not exactly small but you don't have much choice with how wet your clothes are. "thank you," you return his smile. you feel small under his gaze as he looks at you, it seems like he has no plan to leave you alone to get changed or look away. "um, okay, i'll-" you turn away from him and lift up your top. when you take it off and start to fold it keigo holds you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, his wings softly fluttering. you get flustered and wonder what you should do, this isn't normal human behaviour but keigo isn't human maybe this is completely normal for him, although he's never done this before, but maybe he knows how cold you are.

"k-keigo i need to put this on, i'll get cold." he's slow as he takes his hands off you, making you shiver in the process. you quickly get changed pulling on the top that you've been given and pulling down your trousers. you were right about how it doesn't fit you but at least you're dry. the top is thin and covers up to your mid-thigh, the fabric tight along your waist, stomach and breasts but it's still comfortable. you turn round to look at him and twiddle with your thumbs, he smiles at you again and rubs his face against yours, making your cheeks heat up.

"drink?"

"huh?" you ask slightly distracted by how intimate this is.

"drink? keep you warm." he gestures to you and then gestures to another room. you nod your head, not knowing what drink you're saying yes to but happy to be warm and experience what drinks keigo likes and drinks, it might just be tea you'll have to wait and see.

you feel a bit uncomfortable just standing around and you don't notice any chairs so you perch yourself on the bed, hoping keigo won't mind. when keigo comes back he's wearing different clothes and he's holding two mugs, you smile at him and you notice he doesn't smile back. 'did i do something wrong? he's not smiling. maybe i was wrong about him not minding about me sitting down on the bed, i should of just stayed standing up.' keigo is holding onto the mugs so tightly that his hands are turning white. "i'm really sorry keigo, i didn't mean to make you angry," you rush out as quick as you can, hurrying to get up but as you start lifting off the bed two feathers rapidly leave keigo's wings and pins you down to the bed by the top you're wearing. you've never seen him do that before so part of you is thinking about how impressive it is, the other part of you worried and confused hoping he'll forgive you for whatever accidental mistake you made.

keigo places the cups down on the side. "i'm sor-" before you can finish your sentence, he moves on top of you, making your eyes widen, at that moment you see his eyes, heavily dilated looking down at you tenderly but hungrily.

"do you like?" he asks stroking your chubby cheeks.

"like?" you ask confused.

"nest." he kisses your nose.

you're not one hundred percent sure what you're saying yes to but you think he's talking about what you're laying on and you do like it, it's warm and cosy and you could stay here for ever. "i like it very much. i could stay here forever."

keigo trills when he hears you say that, "did a good job?"

you never thought keigo would be one for seeking approval but you suppose everyone does. "amazing job." you nod your head and lift your hands up to his wings and run your hands through them making him shiver. after all that's happened you're still surprised as he gently bites your lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth and you grant him access, parting your lips, keigo taking the lead controlling the movement as your tongues intertwine and you kiss. you have no idea how much time goes by, so caught up in the moment, it could of been three minutes or thirty for all you know, all you know is how good everything feels.

as you move apart you open up your eyes to see him smirking at you, your cheeks are hot. he kisses the corner of your mouth and squeezes your plush thighs before gently trailing his knuckle up and down your inner thigh, slowly inching up your, his, top. keigo brings both his hands to your outer thighs and slivers up the rest of the top until he sees your hips, eyes practically glowing as he nuzzles your neck again.

at some point while all of this was happening he started rubbing his hard dick along your thigh, getting precum everywhere, you had no idea when was able to take off his clothes.

this time he uses his talons as he rips up your underwear leaving you bare and maybe you should be scared of how close his talons were to you but you weren't. he uses his knuckles again and brushes along your opening, he thrills when he feels how wet you are and before you even realise it he's slowly pushing himself into you. he sees you wince and kisses all along your neck and pauses for a second, then continues just as slow as he was before not wanting to hurt you. when he's fully in he waits and kisses you all over, touching all over your body, your hips and stomach especially, groping and squeezing. keigo feels you start relaxing around him and starts moving, slow thrusts in and out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

keigo's thrusts start to speed up uncontrollable as he kept feeling you clench around him and how wet you are, almost feral, animalistic. a white creamy ring forms at the bottom of his dick and he becomes more and more feral. you moan loudly and bury your head into the soft blankets and materials. "feel so good!" you cry out mumbled against the pillows. you ball your fists up into the covers, holding onto them tight and keigo goes harder.

"you feel good too. i'll keep making you feel good," he leans down to your ear and kisses your cheek. you nod your head even though it wasn't a question and keigo's eyes dilate even more than they have been. he touches you very gently, circling against your clit and kisses your pulse point, delicately sucking a mark on your neck. his pace stays the same, still fast. your back arches and you feel the coil in your stomach winding up more and more, so close to snapping. you whine as the coil in you snaps and you cum, body tight in an arch before shaking.

keigo smirks as he watches your body fall and go limp. he picks up your legs and folds you in half, gripping hold of your thighs tightly and his pace increases so fast that it leaves you breathless, your body bounces and he watches you ravenously. "gonna give you my seed, gonna make you a pretty mummy." keigo chokes a groan and holds onto you tighter. you should be trying to move away and tell him no but you don't, instead you clench tighter around him and nod your head rapidly in desire, you've never wanted something so badly. warm ropes of cum spills into you filling you up. keigo smirks and peppers your face with kisses.

"keigo have you seen how messy tsunagu's clothes are! it's a nightmare washing them all the time!" you complain scowling as you pick up your youngest sons shirt.

keigo chuckles and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you behind you ear, "he's such a troublemaker." you shiver as you feel his breath against your skin and his voice so close to you, he smirks.

it's been five years since you first stepped foot in your home, it's been five years since you and keigo first had sex. in those five years a lot has changed, your relationship included. you and keigo have no problem communicating anymore, both now speaking the same language with keigo learning how to write and read everything too. you have two boys together and they're wonderful. you got married and it was one of the happiest days of your life. you've practically abandoned human civilisation, by your own choice. occasionally you'll go into town if you need something but you stay in the forest most of the time. you've met keigo's friend and they all call him hawks, even the ones he's known since children. you asked him why he told you to call him keigo when you first met especially since everyone calls him hawks and he told you it's because he knew as soon as he met you that you were his mate and you would spend the rest of your life together.

"i know a way to calm him down." you hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

you play along, "oh?"

"i think he needs to be a big brother." he pulls you closer to him and rubs your soft stomach.

grinning wide, "really?"

keigo hums and kisses your neck. "yeah birdie, a little one he can help and look after will keep him out of trouble." he nuzzles against you and plays with your stomach. he turns you around to look at him, holding onto your hands and smirking. nonchalantly asking, "what are we aiming for this time? a girl or another boy?" he taps his finger to his chin, "i'm thinking girl."

"i'm thinking a girl too," you smile fondly and kiss his nose. keigo's wings flutter out when you kiss him and you giggle.

"i'll lock the door."

[watchmegetobsessed]

hi babe, how are you? i hope you're fine❤️. idk if you are accepting requests but i really would like to make one. I've been thinking about this a lot and, as I've been following and admiring your stories for a few years, I wanted it to come from you. You could do an imagine where Harry falls in love with a woman who has a very young daughter, around 5 years old. It took him a few months to meet her because Y/N knew that the little girl hadn't yet accepted her parents' breakup and that's why the last two attempts at dating had gone wrong, she had already given up trying until she met Harry. So he tries to win the little girl over from the beginning because he really likes Y/N and won't give up on her so easily. thank you in advance❤️

A/N: i haven't taken any requests in a long while, but i wanted to write something short but sweet so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Sitting on the bottom of the stairs Harry can still hear Y/N’s soft murmur coming from Evie’s room, the bedtime story has been going on for over twenty minutes now, but he doesn’t mind the waiting. If it takes hours, he will still be here, waiting for Y/N to return and even if she asks him to leave, it would still be worth it, just to kiss her goodbye and head home. Any minute he gets to spend with her is worth the wait. 

Tonight has been special, something he’s been looking forward to since their second date when she told him she has a daughter. He still remembers how hesitant and closed-off he seemed when she talked about Evie, because she was scared of his reaction, that he would think of her differently just because she is a mother. 

But it didn’t change a thing. He just realized he had even more respect for her. 

It’s been three months since that conversation and he waited patiently for her to offer him to meet Evie, he wanted it to happen on her terms. Tonight was that time finally. 

He came over to her place and they baked cookies together and watched Frozen, Evie’s favorite movie. Harry came prepared, he brought her a gift and tried his best to win the little girl over, which happened quite fast. 

Or at least the moment he started singing Let It Go with her. 

Y/N has told him about her last two attempts at dating, it took her quite some time to build up the courage to meet new people after his divorce and it was especially hard for her, because Evie was just two at that time. She dated two guys, both of them turned her down because they couldn’t deal with her being a single mother. One of them didn’t even have the gut to tell her straight to her face, he just ghosted her. 

It angers Harry so much that she was treated this way, because she deserves the world. But at least now he gets to be the person to give her it all. 

He hears the door to Evie’s room open and close softly and a moment later she sits beside him on the stairs. Instantly, his arm comes around her figure, tugging her to his side. 

“Sorry it took so long.”

“Don’t apologize.” He places a kiss to the top of her head and his heart skips a beat when she snuggles even closer to him. 

They sit in comfortable silence and Harry knows she is probably overthinking everything that happened tonight, not in the right way.

“Evie is amazing,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for letting me get to know her.”

She lifts her head and looks him in the eyes, that’s when he sees the tears in hers. 

“So it’s not too much?” He takes her face in his hands and then kisses her gently.

“Nothing about you will ever be too much, Y/N.”

She sighs in relief, as if she’s been carrying a weight all along that’s been lifted off her shoulders. 

“Do you want to… stay the night?” she whispers against his lips. 

“I would love to.”

“Even if Evie will barge into my room around six in the morning probably?”

“Now I want to stay even more,” he chuckles lightly. 

***

Y/N wakes slowly and lazily, turning from one side to the other, her hand reaching out on the bed, looking for Harry, but she finds nothing, but the pillow he slept on. His absence wakes her more abruptly, searching for him with her eyes, but she sees no sight of him in the room. With a hammering heart she sits up and holds the sheets to her chest as her thoughts start racing, thinking about Harry sneaking out sometime in the middle of the night. 

Her throat starts to close up as she spirals into the thought of another failed dating attempt, but this one hurts so much more than the previous ones, she trusted him… she loved him… yet he left her. 

Then she hears Evie’s laughter, coming from downstairs. And another voice. 

Harry’s. 

She jumps out of bed and puts on her robe before rushing downstairs, finding her little girl in the kitchen with none other than Harry making… pancakes?

“Mommy!” Evie cheers when she sees her, jumping off the stool she uses to reach the counter. She runs up to Y/N and hugs her tightly.

“Hi Honey, what’s going on?” she asks, but the question is addressed more to Harry rather than to Evie.

“We’re making pancakes!” she answers with excitement. 

“I hope it’s okay,” Harry adds shyly, holding the spatula in his hand. “She came into the bedroom, but you didn’t wake up so I thought… I could let you rest a bit more while we make breakfast.”

It’s such a small gesture, but it’s been quite long since the last time someone did something for her. Being a single parent means doing everything herself and to be honest, her ex-husband wasn’t much of a help around the house in the last year or so in their marriage. 

This was Harry’s first time staying over and he already feels like part of their household. 

As Evie climbs back onto the stool and starts stirring the pancake mixture Y/N can’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist and kissing him. 

“It’s… more than okay. It’s everything,” she whispers against his lips before stealing another quick kiss. 

They finish making breakfast and then eat together. Then Y/N sends Evie to the bathroom to clean herself up while she and Harry clean the table. 

“Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you have to–” she starts, but she is cut off quickly.

“Like I have to do all these extra things for you and Evie?” Harry asks with a tiny smirk as they start loading the washer. “First of all, I did nothing extra. This is pretty much the bare minimum, caring for others, sharing the tasks. This is what partners do.” She lets out an airy chuckle before he continues. “Second… I would do anything for you. And Evie as well. I know I just met her, but…” Taking a deep breath he straightens up and waits for Y/N to do the same. “I love you. Everything about you and everything that’s part of you and Evie is part of you. She is wonderful and I know you’re afraid I might see her as a burden which comes from your experiences with assholes, but it’s not happening with me. Alright?”

“You promise?” she asks in a whisper, tears dwelling in her eyes. He steps closer to her, taking her face between his palms. 

“Promise,” he answers and kisses her softly.

“By the way, I love you too,” she says with a small chuckle. “Yeah, I heard your L bomb.”

“I did drop the L bomb, yeah,” he grins and just when he is about to go in for another kiss Evie runs out to them.

“I’m done! What are we doing today? Harry, are you staying?” 

“Well, do you want me to stay?” he asks, smiling down at her.

“Yes!”

“Then,” he starts, turning his gaze back at Y/N. “Yes. I’m staying.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's hard to go a day without seeing you, but it's impossible to go a day without talking to you. Bradley is trying not to seem too needy for you while you're thinking about making things official with him. Spending some time alone together on his couch might be the perfect opportunity to sort things out.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, mentions of smut and masturbation, Bradley hoping he hasn't fucked up

Length: 4800 words

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

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

"I think I'm in love."

"Excuse me?" Nat asked, nearly dropping her phone as soon as she was seated across from Bradley. "With whom? And if you say Vanessa, I’m going to flip this table over and scream. So choose your words wisely.”

Bradley was trying his best not to laugh too loudly at the slightly unhinged look on his best friend’s face. “Come on, Nat. She emailed me about a cup. Of course it’s not Vanessa.”

He watched her face slowly transform from apprehensive to intrigued. “Are you talking about the teacher? From the elementary school? Bradley, you haven’t even met her yet! She could be catfishing you!”

Once again, he had to try his best to contain his laughter as the waiter came over to tell them about the specials, including the massive steak dinner for two. He was willing to share it with Nat if that’s what she wanted for their very belated birthdays celebration, but he was already thinking about how much he’d really enjoy sharing it with you. You’d pick out the side dishes that you wanted to try, and he’d be more than happy to finish everything you didn’t eat. He was kind of loving this routine that the two of you had after just two dates. He was kind of already obsessed with the way you randomly texted him and sent him photos throughout the day.

“Is that okay with you?” Nat asked, kicking him hard underneath the table as the waiter looked at him.

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Steak dinner for two. Medium rare. Two beers.”

“Sounds good,” he replied before she could do any further damage. When the waiter left them alone, he told her, “Yeah, I was talking about the teacher. What would you say if I told you we already went out on two dates?”

She raised one dark eyebrow at him. “How? It’s Sunday. You just got back on Friday morning.”

Bradley could tell his cheeks were probably growing pink as he said, “I went to her classroom as soon as I got home. We went out Friday night and again last night.”

“So nobody is catfishing you?” she asked, sounding almost disappointed. “I always wanted to know someone who got catfished.”

“Natasha,” he said with a laugh. “Nobody is doing anything untoward.”

“Does that mean you didn’t fuck her yet?”

“Why are you like this?” he groaned, leaning back in his seat as the beers got dropped off. “No, we haven't done that yet.”

“Damn,” she replied before downing half of her drink in one go. “Sounds like you’re in love or something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! She’s perfect for me. And somehow I think I’m perfect for her.” When he noticed her chewing on her lip, he asked, “What’s the problem?”

Nat shrugged. “You barely had any time to yourself after you dumped Vanessa. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken. And I don’t want you to rush into something too soon. And if she’s not an improvement over the last few you’ve been with, then I’m going to dump her for you.”

Bradley smiled across the table. “I appreciate your concern, but I think you’ll actually really like her.” He said your name softly as he thought about the last message you sent to him that said, I can’t wait for you to surprise me tomorrow morning. “She’s very funny. And she sends me messages to see how my day is going, not just to ask me where her overpriced cup is.”

“Wow. So you are capable of attracting someone who isn’t devastatingly awful. Color me surprised,” Nat told him as she grinned.

He was never exactly sure how she could always both irritate and amuse him at the same time. “Just eat your steak.”

—---------------------

You were up absurdly early on Monday morning. You fell asleep while talking to Bradley on the phone until nearly eleven o’clock. He mentioned that he and his best friend went out for a beer and steaks, and then he jumped right into asking you what you did all day. He also asked if you were wearing his sweatshirt. Knowing he was only a thirty minute drive away had you ready to suggest he just come back up to your place and find out for himself, but you bit your tongue.

“It’s the only thing I’m wearing,” is what you’d told him, and he treated you to the prettiest whine in his raspy voice. You were still thinking about how needy he sounded the next morning when you got out of bed to try to make yourself look as good as humanly possible for work. He hadn’t mentioned it again over the phone, but on Saturday night after dinner at Salvatore’s, he said he was going to bring you coffee before work. He made it a point to tell you about it in advance since you didn’t like being surprised.

After the amount of time you spent on your makeup, you were going to be devastated if he didn’t meet you in your school parking lot. Should you text him? Remind him of what he said two nights ago? You could barely keep your own schedule straight half the time, and he just got home from being deployed. You decided to just give him the benefit of the doubt, and you left your apartment without having made a single cup of coffee. If he didn’t follow through on his promise of a caffeine delivery, you’d call him and make sure he still wanted to see you on Wednesday night for burgers.

But you didn’t even need to worry about it, because when you pulled into your school parking lot, his blue Bronco was already there. And he was standing beside it with his arms crossed over his chest. And he was wearing his flight suit. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but that drab looking thing fit him like a glove, and you were starting to sweat as you parked while you thought about that cockpit photo he sent you months ago. The one with his big hand and his thick thighs. It was saved to your phone now, and it was in the regular rotation of photos you liked to look at.

Once you parked, he reached for your door handle, and a split second later, you had your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips on his while he laughed. “Well, this is a nice surprise,” you told him while he juggled the massive Starbucks cup in his hand and tried to pull you closer at the same time.

“This kind of warm welcome makes me feel like maybe you missed me yesterday,” he told you as his free hand wrapped around your waist and settled on your lower back. “Because I know I missed you, Gorgeous.”

The butterflies were on the loose now as you kissed him one more time and let your fingers brush slowly through his beautiful, wavy hair. His flight suit was rough and stiff, but it just added to how soft and sweet he always seemed to be for you. When you pulled your lips away from his, that crooked grin and those pretty brown eyes were aimed right for you. “Yeah, I missed you.” Your whispered admission had his gaze sliding down your face to your lips. “Two dates with you and I’m already always thinking about the next time I’ll get to see you again.”

Bradley looked contemplative, and you hoped you didn’t just sound too needy for your own good. He surprised you when he said, “My next deployment is going to be my hardest one yet.”

Your eyes went wide as you tightened your hold on him. “It’s not happening now, is it?” you asked, your voice sounding a little higher than usual as your heart began to thud. There was no way. He just got back. They couldn’t expect him to leave again so soon, could they?

“No. Baby, no,” he replied immediately. “It shouldn’t be happening for months. But my god, you’re going to make it miserable to leave again when the time comes.”

Three days ago, you had no idea what his touch felt like, but right now you were convinced you couldn’t live without it. “Good,” you whispered, and that crooked smile was back.

“I can’t stay long,” he murmured, pulling away from you so you could take your drink from his hand. “I just knew I’d never make it until later in the week without kissing you.”

Before you could respond, he was opening the passenger side door of his Bronco to reveal another massive bouquet of flowers, similar to the ones he gave you on Friday afternoon in front of your class. “You’re too much,” you said, but something told you he was just getting started. You briefly wondered if it was too soon to have a conversation about being exclusive with him, because he was absolutely running circles around every other guy you’d ever gone out with.

You accepted the flowers from him while you sipped your drink which tasted perfect. He probably had a traffic-filled drive back to North Island to contend with, and now you could see school buses pulling into the parking lot, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to him yet. When you offered your drink to him to try, he smiled and said, “I don’t know if I’m going to like it with all the flavored syrup in it and everything.”

You held it a little closer and said, “Well, I like sharing things with you, Bradley.”

He groaned softly as soon as you said his name, and then he took a sip from your cup. “That’s fucking delicious,” he muttered before taking a second one. “Damn.”

“I have excellent taste. Especially in coffee and men,” you managed to say with a laugh before his lips descended on yours again. And for several minutes, all you knew was your favorite coffee, the sweet floral scent of the bouquet, and Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth.

“I really need to go,” he eventually murmured, lips pressed to the side of your neck as he had you pinned against your car door. “Wednesday. Burgers. Text me when and where?”

“I will, Bradley,” you gasped, unable to stop yourself from rubbing gently against him. His immediate response was to press his hips a little harder against you.

He was making you ridiculous, and the deep rumble of his voice when he said, “Good,” had you on the verge of calling out of work for the day and suggesting he do the same. You wanted every inch of him all to yourself somewhere private. You were panting as his lips and mustache dipped down your neck to the top of your cleavage, and then he pulled away from you altogether, cheeks pink as his chest rose and fell.

“Tell me to go to work, Gorgeous.”

“But I really don’t want you to.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, tugging his fingers through his hair. “Text me when you can and call me tonight?”

You pressed your lips together. “Send me another cockpit photo?”

He barked out a laugh that left you smiling, and he leaned in to give you one last soft kiss. “Whatever you want, Baby.”

Without touching you again, he backed away and walked around his Bronco, and he waved to you as he pulled out of the parking lot. Well. Now you were horny and caffeinated, and you carried your flowers to your classroom with you, knowing you’d need to have the relationship conversation with him soon. You’d be an idiot not to.

When you heard your name, you looked up from where you were standing behind your desk in a Bradley induced trance. “You have more flowers?” Jayden asked. “Are they from Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

Violet gasped. “Did you and Lieutenant Bradshaw get married over the weekend?”

“Where’s your wedding ring?” Henry asked, and you could only laugh at the hopeful looks on your students’ faces.

“I promise Lieutenant Bradshaw and I did not get married over the weekend. But he did inform me that he’d love to come back and spend some more time with all of us soon,” you told them, giving your flowers one last look as you headed for the front of the room. “Who wants to skip English for now and work on some more aviation problems instead?”

They all agreed unanimously.

—------------------------

All Bradley could do to keep himself sane until Wednesday evening was fly his Super Hornet and talk to you. Emails, texts and phone calls. As often as possible. He considered driving back up to Costa Mesa on Tuesday, but he really didn’t want to come on too strong. You had your own life and your own schedule, and it wasn’t your fault that he sat on his couch on Tuesday night with a half hard cock while he thought about how good you smell. He was desperate to touch himself, but he was way more desperate for the real thing at this point. Perhaps if Friday evening went well, you and he could move from his couch to his bed. Maybe you’d want to sleep over. Maybe you would stay all weekend.

“God,” he groaned, running his palm along the front of his gym shorts. Had he ever thought about Vanessa this much when he wasn’t with her? He certainly never had a collection of flirtatious selfies of her saved on his phone. And he definitely never got this hard for her when she wasn’t touching him. 

Sleep. He just needed to go to sleep. He tossed and turned for a long time after he called you quickly to hear your voice and say good night. You thanked him again for the cockpit photo, and all he could hear over and over again in his head was the word cock in your pretty, playful voice. Wednesday felt like a chore after that. Nat asked him again to see a picture of you, and he had to find one that hadn't been sent from your bed. That was easier said than done, and it also meant he got to scroll through the folder where he’d begun to save all the images you sent to him.

Bradley scrolled past the photo of you on the beach at sunset and showed Nat one from your classroom instead. “She’s hot,” she mused. “Very pretty face. Are the wholesome vibes doing it for you or something?” He raised his eyebrow, too afraid to actually answer her question. “Actually, she looks kind of familiar,” Nat said, handing his phone back to him.

“Does she?”

He got called to his jet, and the conversation ended there. Just a handful of hours left until he could meet you at the In-N-Out location that was about halfway between your place and his. And then he could kiss you again. He could make it. Just the thought alone kept him going. But even in his excitement on the drive up there, his mind wasn’t ready for what he found when he arrived.

The weather was overcast and a little cool, and you were sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant wearing jeans and his sweatshirt that you never bothered to return to him. And that was fine, because he didn’t want it back if you were going to keep wearing it and teasing him with that smile.

Your gaze was on him as he parked his Bronco and hopped out in his well worn jeans and tropical print shirt. “Gorgeous.” You were up and heading his way with his name on your lips like he belonged to you, and then you were in his arms again. “I missed you.”

When his stomach promptly growled because of his proximity to dinner, you laughed and started to lead him inside. “Missed you, too,” you told him as you patted his muscular abs. “Do you need two burgers or three?”

He glared down at you playfully. “Just two and some fries and a shake. I’m not a complete disaster.” When he pulled out his wallet, you snatched it out of his hand before he knew what happened. Then you ordered for yourself and for him, glancing his way to make sure you ordered what he wanted before pulling your credit card from your pocket to pay.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, feeling a little bad that he cost you almost forty dollars because he ate so much.

“I told you at Salvatore’s that the burgers are on me,” you replied, casually slipping his wallet back into his pocket. Your fingers skimmed along his jeans zipper before you pulled your hand away, and the needy look in your eyes was absolutely intentional.

“So, Friday night,” he said, voice raspy as he reached for you, sliding his hand around your waist. His mind was flooded with absolute filth as you tucked your body against his while the food was being prepared. He needed to buy groceries. He also needed to buy condoms. He really needed to jerk off. “Maybe you should bring whatever you need for a sleepover?”

“I was planning on it,” you replied easily. “I’ll leave work, stop home to grab my overnight bag, and then I’ll drive to your place for the night.”

Bradley could already picture you wearing one of his undershirts while you lounged around his place on Saturday morning. He could cook you breakfast after keeping you in bed as long as possible. “How do you like your eggs? Scrambled? Sunny side up? Over-easy?”

You were too busy burying your laughter against his chest as the order number was called. Being around you was the simplest thing he’d ever done. There were no jitters beyond the constant excitement he felt. Sometimes he could hardly believe he met you while he was deployed thousands of miles away from you. “Just eat your burgers,” you told him, and once again, he didn’t feel self conscious when he finished the first one in about five bites. And he didn’t mind one bit when you ate some of his fries.

When it was time to tell you goodbye, you didn’t hesitate before wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed along his scars like they didn’t bother you at all. Eventually your fingers toyed with the button on his jeans. “Start thinking about which movie you want to watch… or not watch,” he whispered next to your ear, and he was rewarded with the soft sound you made before you said his name. 

“A completely spider-free movie,” you promised, and his hands drifted down your back and along your jeans until he had his hands completely full of your perfect looking rear end.

“You know just how to get me going, Gorgeous,” he murmured, and your smile grew until you were laughing softly. Once again, you and he were on the verge of being indecent in public, and he had to take a step away from you before his excitement was too obvious to everyone else in the parking lot.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, and you were looking up at him with wide eyes. “I know what you’re doing right now, but on Friday, I’m not going to want you to stop.”

Bradley’s blood thrummed with need, and a grunt escaped him as he leaned one hand on your car for support. Technically speaking, Friday would be date number four, even though he’d known your touch for less than a week. Taking it slower than this was simply not an option, especially not when you told him something like that. “I’m not pumping the brakes anymore,” he whispered, swallowing hard as you grinned at him. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Baby?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you pressed your lips together. “You’re doing it to me, too.”

Bradley reached for your door handle and said, “Send me something cute when you get home.”

“I will,” you replied softly before kissing him hard and parting his lips with yours in one last, filthy kiss. “See you on Friday.”

He was still standing there, slowly counting to fifty, trying to get himself under control as you pulled your car out of the parking lot.

—-----------------------

Bradley had a full refrigerator, a brand new box of condoms, and a perfectly clean house, now he just needed you. Everyone had been riding his ass all week at work, but he barely noticed. On Wednesday night after In-N-Out, you sent him a picture of you in the bathtub, your arm strategically draped across your tits. He asked for something cute, and you practically sent him nudes. But then you followed it up with one of you snuggled up in bed with a book. Scrolling through all of your pictures whenever he had a break at work got him through the week with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, and he was the first one out of the locker room on Friday afternoon. 

He was shameless. He’d been thinking about tonight since he first asked you how you’d feel if he wanted to cancel dinner plans with you and just hang out at his place instead. You always made him feel like you were more interested in him than a potential dinner reservation. He zipped home to wait for you like an excited puppy just dying for attention. Going a day without seeing you felt too long. His plan was to order takeout, but after he fixed his hair and made sure his tee shirt and jeans looked okay, he started to skim the delivery options at his favorite pizza place instead. He was sure that as soon as you got here, he wasn’t going to want either of you to leave again anytime soon.

Bradley played around on his phone while he waited. One look at his calendar told him that he really had nothing pressing except for work over the next few weeks, and he wondered if you’d let him ‘surprise’ you with coffee before work on occasion. When he heard a knock on his door, he was up from the couch with his hand on the doorknob faster than it should have been if he was trying to play it cool, but he was past that now with you. When he pulled open his front door, you were standing there in his sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings with a tote bag on one shoulder, and as soon as you looked at him, you were in his arms.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he whispered as your smiling lips met his. He had to kick the door closed as you started trying your best to push him further into the room while kissing him. All he could think about was how nice it would feel to have a girlfriend who greeted him this way all the time. To have you at his house as much as possible. To have you excited to just spend time with him.

You kissed his mustache and pulled away only far enough to meet his eyes as you said, “I’ve been daydreaming about today for months. When Jayden asked me if I was going to do anything fun this weekend, Violet said she wouldn’t be surprised if I was going to get a kiss from Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

He kissed you and murmured, “Kid really knows her stuff.” You continued to push him toward the couch as he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s been a small change of plans.”

“Oh?” you asked, only looking mildly concerned as he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter.

“Yeah. I’m absolutely unwilling to leave to go pick up takeout right now, so we’re getting something delivered.” He let you push his chest until he dropped down onto his couch, legs splayed with you standing above him, hands on your hips.

“More time alone with you? Sounds good to me,” you murmured as you nodded down at him. “And you were absolutely right. You’re too big for your couch. Looks like we’re going to have to get cozy together. ”

You dropped your tote bag to the floor as Bradley reached for you with a smile. "Why don't you come here and show me in an abundance of detail just how cozy we can get." His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs, and you bit your lip. He wasn't going to stop himself tonight. As long as you wanted to mess around, he was absolutely into it. If you wanted to sleep together, he was ready to welcome you into his bed with open arms. He knew what he wanted now. He wanted you in his life.

As you took a step closer, he kissed your thigh through your leggings and then looked up at your face. "I brought a copy of my favorite movie with me," you whispered. "I can't wait to not even watch it tonight."

Bradley groaned softly as you eased yourself down onto his lap so you were straddling him with a little smirk on your face. He let his hands settle on your hips as he rasped, "This is very nice and cozy." Then you took his chin in your hand, gently kissed his scars, and pressed your lips to his as you scooted up so you were snug against his body. "Say my name?" he asked, your body as close to his as you could possibly be.

He realized he was begging. He also realized you'd been in his house for about five minutes, and he didn't even show you around at all, but your soft, sweet moan took all logical thought out of his head. "Bradley."

His arms were around your waist, and he was fighting with himself to slow this down just a tiny bit. Draw it out. Make it last all night. But you were his Gorgeous girl. The one he'd been falling slowly but surely in love with for months. And you had your hands up inside his shirt while you told him how much you wanted him. How you'd been thinking about him longer than you knew what he looked like. How you wanted to spend all your free time with him.

"Gorgeous," he murmured against your lips while you dragged your fingers down to the top of his jeans. Goosebumps ran down his neck and along his arms, and he couldn't remember anyone else ever making him feel this good before. You were still smiling as he kissed down the front of your neck to the top of his sweatshirt which looked way better on you than on him. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do first. You had him so flustered, he said, "I just want to make you mine."

When he heard loud knocking on his front door, you released your hold on him with a surprised laugh. "Did you already order the food?" you asked placing your hands on his where they rested on your thighs.

"No," he whispered, barely able to comprehend anything except how much sense the two of you made together. But he hadn't ordered food yet, and he didn't know who would possibly be knocking on his door, but he decided he would send them packing immediately so he could be alone with you again.

You shifted your weight on his lap, and he chased your lips for another kiss as you said, "Whoever it is needs to get lost."

"I'll take care of it," he groaned, standing a little awkwardly with his erection pressing against the fly of his jeans. "Sit tight, Baby." He leaned down to kiss you once more before straightening and walking backwards toward his door where there was more knocking. You were all curled up against the couch cushions now, eyes glued on his every movement as he watched your teeth sink into your lip again. "Jesus, you're perfect," he murmured, causing you to bury your face in your hands as you laughed.

Suddenly his annoyance snapped into place as he heard a voice through his front door say, "I know you're home, Bradley. I want to talk to you."

He knew that voice. He'd gone many months without hearing it, but he did know it. The sinking feeling in his stomach left him reeling as he yanked open his front door about a foot to reveal the one person he thought he'd never have to see again. Especially not when he was finally about to spend the whole night at home with you all to himself before asking you to be his girlfriend.

"Fuck," he groaned, his face heating up with embarrassment as all of the desire started to recede from his body. "What do you want?"

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

Bradley, I need you to get back on that couch immediately. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Couch, now. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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