#they were my top artist last year too

[idiotmaggot]

[seaofreverie]

By the way the viral marketing campaign just dropped

[silvery-stars]

💪 crane wives top 0.5%

[genzombie]

okay you know the drill. rb with your 2nd and 8th most listened to song of this year.

[noises-of-nothing]

Huh, I guess I really liked this one album.

[aeolianblues]

Budget cuts were real. Looked through the schedules out of curiosity, BBC have really only planned to televise the Saturday and Sunday headliners at Reading. It looks like they've had to make a choice between Reading and Glastonbury, and with factors like the time of year (mid-summer vs. last long weekend of summer), interest and viewership, they chose their flagship Glastonbury coverage while axing a lot of Reading. Sad, but I think they made the right choice on that.

Also, they have had to spell it out in words. Written all over it is one word: budget

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[gentleneko]

[radio-4-is-static]

surprise, surprise

[phagodyke]

top 0.05% for the national btw. if anyone cares

[scribeofmorpheus]

Why Dragon Age Veilguard isn't a "Cathedral"

Concept art by Matt Rhodes

"To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals."

What is inherent with Veilguard that keeps bothering me is the fact that the world's choices truly didn't matter--and it doesn't simply bother me from a player perspective, it's not simply a grievance borne of frustration to what I (as a longtime fan) have lost. It's about the very culture of the arts under capitalism's new media habituation cycle [x][x].

Yes, I spent hours of my life playing and replaying each instalment of Dragon Age. Yes, I painstakingly curated a 'canon' world state by replaying what came before in preparation for Veilguard. Yes, I am even more unsatisfied with the end product--time hasn't helped, it's just widened the divide. But, and I can't stress this enough, these very personal gripes aren't what hit home the most. It's the inherent disregard of legacy. A legacy that the previous writers and game developers were building towards.

In the DAV artbook, "cathedral" is the word used to describe the process of making a game. Matt Rhodes' exact words are: "One artist can make a painting, but it takes a team to build a cathedral." Cathedrals took centuries to build. The architect who drafted the first blueprints would likely never see his work realised, he had to rely on those who came after him, like-minded and passionate, to see it through--for the culture, for the future, for legacy. Painters took on several apprentices for this reason too--giant frescoes were not completed by one man's hand, even if it is one man's name that immortalises them. Similarly, if you weave a narrative around choice, what good does it do to take it away at the final act if not to fall to caricature?

To disinherit the storylines of past games goes directly against the notion of building cathedrals.

Late-stage capitalism and profit-margin-obsessed game producers forcing developers to churn out meager content, to make a known brand into something it's not, to chase a fad or a popular trend... o, how reductive and cliche you've been forced to become Bioware. We have lost the cultural thought patterns relative to Cathedrals. We know only of barn-raised churches--done in a day but unlikely to last the turn of the seasons.

And don't even get me started on the music of Veilguard either. From Origins to World of Warcraft to Everquest to Baldur's Gate to Dungeon Siege, you can hear the intricate interconnected weave of sounds inspired by the Dungeons and Dragons-esque fantasy genre. You hear it in the repeated use of certain instruments, in the harmonic weeping notes of a bard-like singer or the foreboding echoes of drums as if of war. In tavern songs. But then, rather than hire someone who loves these worlds and this genre, who is a hungry artist looking to make a name, a legacy if you will, for themselves with a spectacular score, you hire any already sated composer, one well-into the encroaching years of career fatigue, whose notes repeat in countless projects, who feels less concise and more uninterested with each new project. One who has long since cemented his legacy. Someone in it for a paycheck and nothing else! And, to top it off, you let him compose something so minimalist? I am offended actually.

Cathedrals! We should have witnessed the final tile being placed on the Dragon Age cathedral. Instead, some architects walked up, tore down the interior and installed IKEA furniture and called it authentic before having to call the previous architects to come and fix the "load-bearing issues", forcing them to rush and add a coat of varnish and a few 'aged' details for authenticity.

[fushitoru]

all i want for christmas is you! a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ after a well needed rest from the kids, you and your boyfriend focus on baking christmas cookies for your pta responsibilities. however, it ends up taking a naughty twist when satoru finds out the surprise you've planned out for him.

warnings ⸺ FLUFF, smut in the form of fingering and p i v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, some jealousy, but mostly crack, pta cookie baking for megumi, very domestic, not edited, “good girl,” teasing, use of pet names like “baby,” gojo is a warning in himself

a/n hbd to my husband and loml 😚😚 i hope you guys enjoy this it kind of made me realize only long fics heal my soul but this is anticipation of holidays :33

general masterlist

You sometimes did not know what to do with Satoru.

When he told you to come over to make Christmas cookies that are part of his PTA commitments for Megumi, you really didn’t expect him to come out of his room with that sweater on. It’s an ugly sweater—so he’s got the holiday spirit nailed down—that has printed “BIG PACKAGE JUST FOR YOU.” Below it, a cartoon Santa stood pantsless, strategically holding a neatly wrapped gift box over his crotch.

You give him a look as he comes out to join you in the kitchen. “Please don’t tell me you wore that in front of Tsumiki and Megumi.”

He has the gall to look offended as he puts on his even stupider “Your opinion wasn’t on the recipe” apron. “Of course, what kind of father do you think I am?”

You sigh, moving to put in the last of the dry ingredients. “I saw Megumi watching Breaking Bad on his iPad last week.”

“What?” he gasps dramatically as he pauses while moving for the fridge. “I swear I downloaded Youtube Kids!”

Look, Satoru is a good dad. Foster-dad. Whatever. He’s been taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki for ages now, ever since that incident happened, and he’s been doing his best. But, unfortunately, his adult life and burdens and responsibilities cause him sometimes to be a absent father. He makes up for it—goes shopping with Tsumiki for her clothes, spends quality time with Megumi.

One thing he’d never miss, however, are those PTA meetings.

He is the PTA mom final boss. No matter what event is being held, he’s going to go all out. You don’t miss the smirk he gives to Karen everytime he brings an even bigger cookie platter for Megumi’s homeroom than she did for her son Sam’s, nor the sassy pursed lips as he donates artist-grade markers from Michael’s instead of Mia’s cheap ones from Walmart.

Yea, he is just petty like that, but it’s always the moms whose sons have gotten into fights with Megumi that he outdoes everytime. You know better than to question his peculiar form of revenge.

“I think that means he found a way to break through the parental controls. He’s definitely your kid,” you reply with a bit of mirth in your voice. Then, you quickly move to intercept Satoru’s journey to get the eggs as soon as you notice a miniscule movement of his. You were not about to let Satoru force another trip to Whole Foods with the clumsiness you’re all too familiar with in your five years of dating.

Grabbing the eggs before he can, you turn around to find him staring at you, a dazzled look on his face.

“What?” you ask, already smirking. The view of the outfit you’d worn today had been obscured by the apron when he first came in, but when you moved to get the eggs in front of him, he definitely got a view of your ass in your tiny red skirt and fuzzy, festive top.

“Why the hell are you wearing a sexy Mrs. Claus outfit?”

“I was thinking we’d watch Christmas movies and chill today after the cookies!” you exclaim, just as Satoru interrupts with, “We’re baking cookies for children, you freak.”

The room went dead silent.

Your cheerful smile dropped instantly. Meanwhile, Satoru’s face lit up like he’s just won the lottery, full of pure glee.

Both of you shout at the same time, “What?”

You slam the eggs down onto the counter with just enough force to make him flinch, narrowing your eyes at him. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he yelped, backpedaling so fast you were surprised he didn’t trip over his own feet. “It’s just—” He gestured wildly at you. “—that outfit is… is…”

“Is what?” you demand, crossing your arms and daring him to dig himself deeper.

“Babe,” he starts to whine, apologetic like a wet dog and padding his way back over to you while pulling you in for a back hug. “It’s hot, okay? Don’t get me wrong, it’s driving me crazy. I’m trying to focus on cookies, and you’re over here looking like every Christmas fantasy I didn’t know I had.”

“Get off me,” you grumble, shooting him a glare as you try to shake him off. “You are not touching these cookies. Sit on the couch.”

He yelps as you slap his hand. “Babe, but I’ll just be reinforcing the patriarchy if I let you stay and do all the work in the kitchen.” Then, he moves closer to your ear like the chronically online loser he is and whispers, “6’ 3’’ btw.”

“Go away!” you shriek, waving him off. This process would indeed be two times faster if Satoru was on his couch. There wasn’t any rush, but you’d really appreciate getting to the dicking-down part of tonight after much appreciated privacy from the kids for the first time in forever. You take a mental note to thank Yuji’s grandpa and Nobara’s grandmother with extra cookies for the sleepover as you shoo your boyfriend to the couch.

You get back to work on the wet ingredients by cracking the eggs, but not before you hear a “I’ll be reflecting on the systematic oppression women face in the workforce.”

Pulling off the oven mitts on your hands, you wash your hand but not without sneaking a peek over the kitchen counter. You were locked in on the cookies, paying no mind to Satoru’s existential bemoaning, and now that you’re done, you can’t wait for the fun part of tonight.

After waiting a few minutes and checking and rechecking the cookies to make sure they’re done, you set them aside to cool and make sure to turn off the oven. Tonight, you were determined to get that big fucking package Santa owed you, and your boyfriend was going to be the one to deliver it.

As you walk out, you know the strat you’re going to use: innocently suggest a Christmas movie to watch, snuggle close to him, and he’ll fall into the trap you set for him like a bear towards honey. You know your boyfriend all too well, and today, you were feeling coy.

He’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling on his phone, his posture as awful as ever. But the second he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes immediately dart to the movement of your bare legs, lingering on the tiny red skirt you’re still wearing, before slowly traveling back up to your chest. Wow. He really wasn’t making this difficult.

You plop down next to him while grabbing the remote, pulling up Netflix. “What movie should we watch today?”

He blinks, clearly distracted. “We’re watching a movie?”

The Princess Switch catches in the side of your eye as you scroll through the options. Without looking at him, you answer, “Yes? What else were we going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, his voice already dipping into that teasing tone you know so well. “Maybe something that doesn’t involve Vanessa Hudgens playing herself two times.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Don’t knock it till you try it, Mr. Holiday Spirit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave you, though, and when you finally glance at him, his expression has shifted. He’s not teasing anymore. His eyes are a little darker, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a grin. “What?” you ask, already smirking.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice lower now. “Just... you look really good in that outfit.”

Your cheeks heat, but you play it off with a laugh. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Satoru.”

“Won’t it?” he murmurs, leaning a little closer, his hand brushing against your knee. The heat of his palm lingers even after he pulls it away, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to respond—something witty, something to keep the banter going—but then his hand moves again, this time resting firmly on your thigh. “You’re really going to make me sit through a Christmas movie when you look like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help the way your body reacts, leaning just a fraction closer to him. “What would you rather do?” you challenge, your voice softer now.

His gaze dips to your lips, and that’s all the invitation he needs. In a second, he’s closing the distance, his mouth pressing against yours in a kiss that’s anything but sweet. It’s hungry and demanding, like he’s been waiting for this all day, and when his hand slides higher up your thigh, you realize you’ve completely forgotten about the movie and the preview playing. Satoru, clearly a little annoyed judging by the pout on his face, moves to close the preview featuring Vanessa Hudgens’ obnoxious British accent and then the room is silent except for the wet sounds of your sloppy kissing.

When you’ve both made out for a while—now with you on his lap—you both pull back with fastened breaths, looking at each other’s glistening lips. Finally, from Satoru comes out a, “That. I wanted to do that.”

Maybe it’s the attention whore in you always looking to rile up Satoru and get his affection, but you couldn’t refrain from blurting out a “Are you sure you wanted to do this with me, or would Linda have sufficed?”

At the scrunch of Satoru’s nose, his face practically spells out a Who the fuck is Linda? “You know, the one that gets really friendly with you when I’m going to the bathroom at those PTA meetings.”

Satoru sometimes did not know what to do with you.

Here he is, trying to make out with you when you’re looking like that, makeup done perfectly and looking beautiful as always. He hasn’t gotten laid with you in a hot minute, and here you are, picking at him. He has no fucking clue who Linda is, but what he does know is that you’re really cute when you get jealous. “Yeah?” he teases, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. His grin is maddeningly smug, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Linda sounds nice. Should I call her up?”

Your jaw drops, but the sharp retort forming in your head is lost when his hand slides from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly along your jawline. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You know,” he continues, his voice a low murmur, “if you’re jealous, you could just say so.”

“I’m not jealous,” you shoot back, your voice unconvincing even to yourself. You shift under his gaze, trying to keep up the façade, but it’s hard when his lips hover so close to yours.

Satoru’s grin widens. “No? Then why are you bringing up some imaginary PTA Linda when I’m clearly only interested in you?” His lips press against the corner of your mouth, a slow, deliberate kiss that makes your breath catch.

“You’re clearly only interested in being annoying,” you quip, but the words lack their usual bite as his hand slips lower, trailing down your side until it rests on your bare thigh. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you.

“Annoying?” he echoes, his tone mock-offended. “That’s a big word for someone who just ruined a perfectly good makeout session to talk about Linda.”

You glare at him, but the effect is ruined when his thumb begins tracing lazy circles on your thigh. “I didn’t ruin anything,” you argue weakly.

“Didn’t you?” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Because now, instead of kissing you like I want to, I’m stuck reassuring you that Linda doesn’t stand a chance against my very sexy, very jealous girlfriend.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, but it turns into a soft gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his tongue soothing the faint sting. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, tangling in his hair and tugging him closer.

“Mm, but you like it,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. His free hand slides higher, skimming under the hem of your skirt, his fingers teasing against the soft skin of your hip. “Admit it.”

“Shut up,” you manage, though your voice is breathless now. He’s too close, his scent overwhelming, his touch setting your nerves on fire. When his hand tightens on your thigh and he pulls you closer, you give in, letting him capture your lips in a kiss that’s all desperation.

Linda, whoever she may be, is long forgotten as Satoru kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every second you’ve spent apart. His hands roam, his touch firm and confident, and when he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re all I want,” you believe him completely.

A breathless “Satoru” leaves your lips as he gently–but hurriedly–lowers you down to lay on the couch while he bends over you, inching down the hem of your top to bury his head in your tits. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “I missed my girls.” He starts to leaves rough kisses, an occasional bite and suck, and then stops. Takes in a deep breath. “Wow, you smell good babe.”

You look at him, flustered. “Stop smelling my tits, oh my god.” For good measure, you grab his hair to bury his face against your breasts once more.

“No,” smooch, “it’s,” smooch, “smelling good. Like the new holiday scents from Bath and Body Works.” He then abandons your chest to kiss his way down your body, sliding your skirt down as he kisses around the edge of your panties. “I’ve missed her, too.”

Despite yourself, you moan, spreading your legs to give him full access. He takes it enthusiastically, giving you a little kiss in your middle. Then, his eyes don’t leave yours as he uses his teeth to pull your panties down, slowly and sultry. Your pussy leaks even more, and the motherfucker notices, because there’s a faint smirk on his face as he hones back in your wetness, running his fingers to spread your slick. “Wow, my girl must have been sooo pent up,” he croons, eyes not leaving your hole and the way it clenched every time he spoke. “My good girl is soo desperate.”

Without missing a beat, you sneakily reply, “Don’t call me that, that’s so corny oh my god—-“ You’re interrupted with your own gasp as he enters a finger in. When he finally curls it, hitting your g-spot dead on, you suck in your breath. You really missed this.

“Oh, really?” He giggles, clearly amused by you trying to rile him up. “If my baby doesn’t like being called a good girl then why is she clenching so hard on my—“ thrust— “fingers?”

And suddenly the feminist in you leaves as his big, thick fingers ram into you faster than ever, and you start squealing like the slut you are for your incredibly hot boyfriend who’s equally as much of a slut for you, judging based on the rock hard erection against your thigh. Take that, Linda.

You’re in a daze of pleasure, too fucked out to notice Gojo wrenching down his sweats to pull out his throbbing cock, to pump it to full mast. It’s only when he rips his finger away from your cavern that you start to whimper, clawing at his arms to continue fingering you.

And he starts cooing, giving you a small kiss on your cheek as he aligns his dick with your pussy. “I know baby, I know,” and he groans as the soft, wet heat of your pussy grips on him hard as he pushes in. It’s not long before he starts thrusting, wiping your tears while driving in even faster. “Wow, good fucking pussy.”

“Satoru,” you whine, but you don’t even know for what. You were close enough when he was fingering you, but now you’re steadily approaching your climax. But Satoru, who’s attuned to what your body needs, readjusts himself to go even deeper.

It’s when you gasp loudly that a glint lights up in his eyes. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” He drives into that spot like a jackhammer, savoring in your little squeals and moans of his name, until finally, he feels you climax.

“Oh my god,” you says breathlessly as your orgasm takes over you, convulsing while Satoru doesn’t let up, continuing his pace until his hips become more sloppy. After a few off rhythm thrusts, he comes in you, collapsing on top of you.

He’s breathing heavily from exertion, and you run your nails on his back and hair gently. You both bask in the glow of your orgasm. Of course, that is until Satoru perks his head up. “Do you think I can eat that kid Martin’s cookie? Megumi told me he doesn’t like him and that he’s annoying—-OWWW, what was that for?”

[yearoftheotpevent]

hello fan creators!

Year of the OTP is officially back for 2025 with a new set of prompts!

we've switched some of the prompt categories around in an effort to make the event more inclusive of all kinds of fanworks. we've also included song prompts this year! the playlist is on spotify here.

we want to give a huge thank you to everyone who participated in the last event - it grew so much larger than we ever expected and it's truly amazing how you all took our last set of prompts and made so many wonderful things. keep it up!

a couple housekeeping notes: we will not be reblogging every entry this year. mods will keep an eye on the blog if you have any questions, but the reblogs were too much last time. thank you for your understanding!

we will be closing the 2023 collection on December 31. thank you for your continued participation, but it's time to look forward!

the link for the new collection will be posted here January 1.

we're looking forward to seeing what you create this year!

alt text below the cut.

Year of the OTP 2025

The Rules: the Ao3 collection accepts any /-ship works inspired by a prompt from this sheet The Challenge: make 12 works for one ship in one year, using prompts from each month

*you do not need to do the challenge to post to the AO3 collection, as long as you follow the rules*

January first kiss ♦ “may I have this dance” ♦ sharing clothes ♦ BDSM AU ♦ stockholm syndrome ♦ Strong – One Direction

February Valentine’s Day ♦ “it made me think of you” ♦ bed sharing ♦ multiple penetration ♦ mind control/mind break ♦ Like Real People Do – Hozier

March fresh starts ♦ “what are you doing with that”♦ florist/tattoo artist ♦ phone sex ♦ major character death ♦ Take Care – Drake

April pranks ♦ “right in front of my salad” ♦ running away together ♦ dom bottom/sub top ♦ raised to be a killer ♦ Drops of Jupiter – Train

May hanahaki ♦ “we’re dating? since when?” ♦ body swap ♦ magical sex toys ♦ stalking ♦ Paper Rings – Taylor Swift

June pride ♦ “I can’t get you out of my mind” ♦ relationship reveal ♦ unconventional sex positions ♦ paying a debt with your body ♦ Good Looking – Dixon Dallas

July vacation together ♦ “I like my _ how I like my coffee” ♦ kidfic ♦ mutual masturbation ♦ dehumanization ♦ You May Be Right – Billy Joel

August Sports AU ♦ “you’re thinking too much”♦ cooking together ♦ object insertion/ penetration ♦ becoming a monster ♦ You Shook Me All Night Long – AC/DC

September high school/college sweethearts ♦ “come here” ♦ date night gone wrong ♦ semi-public sex ♦ abduction ♦ Thinking Bout You – Frank Ocean

October costumes ♦ “boo” ♦ online dating ♦ shibari ♦ mutual non-con ♦ Mr. Brightside – The Killers

November camping ♦ “are you sure” ♦ touch-starved ♦ cockwarming ♦ abusive relationship ♦ A Thousand Years – Christina Perri

December holiday traditions ♦ “where are you taking me” ♦ bathing together ♦ food play ♦ tortured for information ♦ Everything Is Alright – Laura Shigihara

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[sweetteainthesummerx]

|◁ II ▷| down bad ! |◁ II ▷|

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: quinn hughes x famous singer! reader

warnings: fluff, smut is implied but not graphic!! use of y/n.

summary: your sister sends you an article of you and quinn being absolutely down bad for each other...

word count: 2.4 k

notes: saw one too many edits of my handsome boy on TikTok and this is the consequence :) also, this is sort of based off of taylor swift and travis kelce. enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're finishing up in the studio, just done tweaking one of your last songs on your new album when your phone dings! with a notification.

it's your sister, who sends a trail of emojis that don't really make sense and a link.

you press on it, confused and assuming it's something she wants for her birthday that's coming up soon.

instead it's an article that reads, TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE.

you laugh, because the cover photo is one of you and quinn from last year when you took him as your plus one to the grammy's. you have to admit, you both look really good, and so, so in love.

so you nestle into your chair to read it.

TOP TEN FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS OF NHL AND THE MUSIC INDUSTRY'S ROYAL COUPLE

one of Hollywood's up and comings, y/n l/n and quinn hughes of canucks and nhl fame have been dating for over three years, and have been public for two. we have complied a list of fan favourite moments of the couple over the span of their relationship that show their deep (and public) affection and love for each other

10. 2023 Grammy's Award Ceremony

picture: you are wearing a light blue floor length gown, hair loose and curled. your makeup is simple and glowy. quinn stands next to you, in a clean, slate grey suit with a hand wrapped around your hip, fingers nestled in the dip of your hipbone.

the award ceremony for the grammy's - where y/n won best album for the second year in a row - was when the famous couple first went public officially, not counting the many paparazzi pictures taken in both vancouver and Los Angeles.

sources show that the two could hardly keep their hands off of each other. they were seen kissing multiple times through out the night.

it was true, quinn had been extra handsy that night, and had all but ripped that dress off of you when you got back to the hotel. you sigh at the memory, stomach warm and a little achy. you can't wait for him to come back from the roadie he left for only two days ago.

9. y/n's tiktoks

despite their massive success in their respective industries, it is easy to forget that they are also part of gen z. y/n's TikTok page features fashion, her music and most popular of all, her boyfriend. here are only some of her most viewed and liked videos:

video one: you smile into the camera, fluffing your hair in a close shot. the subtitles read: fit check with my bf! quinn pulls you against him by your waist, kissing your face over and over as you laugh, pushing at his chest. over the song, you tell him to let go so you can show your outfits. he lets go reluctantly but holds your hand, spinning you around to show off your sundress. then he grabs you and dips you low, hands dangerously close to your ass, as you giggle into his cheek.

video two: the video is taken by one of your friends who took your phone. she's on the couch and you and quinn are in the kitchen cooking for the small get together in your vancouver apartment. you lean up to smile at him, and he bumps his nose with yours. some trending love song plays in the back.

you flush at the comments gushing about how he looks at you, the height difference and how cute you guys are. there's something so sweet at seeing the two of you from an outsiders perspective.

8. quinn knowing y/n's entire discography

during media days, one interview has elias petterson and quinn hughes guessing songs and the artists. the journalist managed to sneak at least four of y/n's songs in, quinn getting all four correct, with the full name of the song, name of artist and then album, all under 10 seconds of the song playing. now that's a supportive boyfriend!

you watch the video linked, your boyfriend sweaty and hair wet. the media person is impressed, and quinn just shrugs bashfully and offers a crooked smile. you look at the time stamp and bite a grin: it's from before you guys went public. no wonder all of your fans say you guys were obvious.

7. quinn hughes: nhl player and personal bodyguard

fame in hollywood forces many in the industry to have body guards, and y/n is not exempt. for many years before she started dating the canuck's defensemen, she's had many bodyguards following her around. now, it seems like her boyfriend has taken over that job.

video: your body guard, john moves to open the limo door as you and quinn arrive to an event, but your boyfriend crosses from his side of the car to open it himself, patting john on the shoulder and gently pushing him from the entrance and helping you out himself. he helps you balance on your heels as you stand and wave at the cameras, one hand on your waist as he maneuvers you to the other side of the sidewalk so he can block you from the cars. he keeps your hand cradled in his, his other arm around your waist as he shoulders through the paparazzi.

quinn looks so attractive and so masculine in this video. you've never had boyfriends who took princess treatment so seriously, but quinn has always been a defender, on ice and off. it was a little awkward and it took a long a while for him to get you, but ever since he had you, he's made sure he tried his very best to keep and protect you.

6. getaway in hawaii

although the couple hasn't had any announcement of engagement yet, early last year they were sighted in hawaii on a trip eerily like a honeymoon: here are some pictures.

picture one: you're in a tiny pink bikini and he's in board shorts. he's taken off his hat to give to you, and you're pressing on a pair of your too-small sunglasses onto his face while both of you laugh.

picture two: the two of you are standing in the water up to your calves. he's got his fingers tangled in the strings of your bikini bottoms, and yours are on his chest as the two of you look into the horizon.

picture three: quinn has you balanced on his shoulder, smiling as you clutch at his back. one of his forearms is possessively covering your ass from the camera, and his other hand is wrapped fully around your ankle to give you a semblance of balance.

you still smile every time you think of that trip, afternoons playing in the water, romantic dinners and nights with his head between your legs, your fingers tangled in his hair. you silently remind yourself to book a vacation back there the next time both of you are free.

5. the NHL award ceremony

the recent NHL award ceremony when quinn hughes received the James Norris award for his skills as a defenceman gave us another peek into y/n's relationship with hughes family.

video one: you're sitting between quinn and luke in your pretty dark blue gown. your hair is pulled back from your face the way quinn likes. he's got an arm thrown over the back of the seat, fingers rubbing your shoulder as you talk to Luke about his hair routine. quinn murmurs something the camera can't catch into your ear and you laugh, tucking your hand into the his that's resting on his lap. he leans back, stretching his legs as you absentmindedly rub his knee, leaning over his brothers to talk to his mom.

video two: his name is called, and you stand with him, clapping loudly. he hugs you first, and you press a kiss into the corner of his lip, but he plants a firm, real one on yours. your manicured, white nails contrast against the black expanse of his suit and broad back. you push him gently towards luke. when he's finished hugging everyone and comes back down the aisle, you quickly fix his tie and smooth down his lapels. he kisses your cheek again and goes down to the stage.

photo three: the trophy is in the middle, the whole family wrapped together. you're tucked between ellen, the older woman has an arm around your waist and your boyfriend's got is arm slung across you shoulders on you other side, everyone smiling big for the camera.

you still remember ellen and jim insisting that you get in the photo, because "you're practically family anyways," and "it's any day now" that their son proposes to you. the photo is on their fridge, to this day.

4. quinn's y/n shirt

another video from y/n's tiktok. during the christmas season, she spent the holidays with the hughes family. her future brother in law (hopefully), jack hughes got quinn a pretty special present.

video: jack is holding the camera, and it pans to you and quinn. your holding a giant sushi stuffed toy (long story) from luke on your lap as you sit next to your boyfriend.

"here," he extends a hand holding a bag to his older brother.

Quinn smiles in thanks and digs into it, retrieving shirt. but it's no ordinary shirt. it's one of those old, retro looking ones with your face blown out all over it.

pictures from red carpets, your album covers, and in gaudy, shadowy text, it reads: IF LOST, RETURN TO Y/N L/N.

Luke cackles as you bury your face in quinn's shoulder. he's letting out a deep, belly laugh as his parents smile and take pictures of it when he holds it out.

he immediately pulls off his sweatshirt and tugs the shirt on. it fits a little tight.

"merry christmas!" jack yells as he gives you a high-five.

he still wears that stupid shirt around the apartment, just because he knows you like the fit and your face plastered all over his chest.

3. y/n's songs about her boyfriend

through many new releases, we have determined a list of songs about quinn from her new album, lover.

sweet nothing

paper rings

lover

daylight

I think he knows

afterglow

good looking

wow, you think. these people must not have lives if they're rummaging through your digital footprint and media presence with your boyfriend just to link them with your songs.

2. quinn's interview

since the couple has gone public, y/n has been seen at Canuck's games with family and friends. since she's from vancouver, born and raised, she is passionate about hockey and fits right in.

video one: the jumbotron flashes your face an name; you're wearing quinn's canucks jersey, hair loose. you smile and flutter your fingers at the crowd that's going crazy. one the ice, quinn's teammates jostle and holler at him, and you blow him a kiss. he pretends to catch it, and the screaming in the stadium reaches a new level as the screen pans to him: he's pink and all smiley.

video two: the ref makes a call and you stand, throwing your hands up in the air, exasperated. you huff, sitting back down with your head in your hands. your friends watch on with disappointment, and the three of you let out complains.

video three: quinn grins while looking off camera in the middle of an interview, and the journalist laughs.

"your girl?" he asks, and quinn nods shyly.

"yeah, it's real nice to see her here supporting. I mean, she's really busy too with her tours, but it's nice to have her on my turf."

"I saw! she got really riled up for the penalty during the second period. she's wearing your jersey as well."

"yeah," he scratches his neck, scrunching his nose to hide the big ass smile on his face, "she looks great, eh?"

"glad to see her in her hometown, too."

"right. yeah, I love her so much."

you snicker at how love sick he looks, because early on in the relationship he followed you around like a clingy, lost puppy. he still does sometimes after a roadie or one of your tours. you love it.

1. karma is the guy on the rink, coming straight home to me

the internet broke when y/n changed one of the songs on her song list for her tour last year at rogers arena in vancouver: instead of "karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me", which is a reference to her ex, she changes it to better fix her new romance.

video: you dance through the song, your backup dancers clueless as you reach the line.

"karma is the guy on the rink, comin' straight home to me!" your voice breaks a little in a giggle at the end, your dancers shocked laughter and gasps visible from their faces that even an iPhone camera from 25 meters away can catch.

video two: quinn's in the tent with your parents and some of his teammates and their girlfriends, all of them are vibing to the music and dancing, most holding drinks in their hands.

when the line hits the speakers, everyone is screaming so loud and filming him, and he blushes so red that it spreads to his ears and neck, even in the dim light. his boys are slapping his back, and your dad gives him a high-five. he just smiles at you, dopey and deliriously happy in his shirt of your face and the 20 friendship bracelets your fans had made for him.

you remember that show perfectly, and the night after even better. you barely got any sleep because of his attentions, and your makeup artists spent nearly half an hour covering up the bruises on your neck and chest the next morning.

all in all, we can come to the conclusion that quinn hughes and y/n l/n are completely down bad for each other, like she teased in the song list of her unreleased album. we only hope for good things in the future for this famous couple!

you smile at the closing statement, sending it to quinn to read later in his hotel room.

he facetimes you that night, hair wet and eyes sleepy.

"that article was absolutely right. I am so down bad for you." he tells you seriously, with the promise of lots of love when he comes straight home to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Even though Bradley isn't as nervous this time around, his excitement for the baby overflows at your first appointment with your doctor. After he surprises you with something at work, you get hit by a wave of jealousy.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley sat in the familiar waiting room at Dr. Morris's office. Just like before, your hand was held tight in his with your cheek resting on his shoulder, but now he also had Rose curled up against his chest. She was sound asleep, her tiny body rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm that he was obsessed with. Even her fuzzy hair was starting to get a little longer now that she was over five months old. He couldn't be near her and not kiss the top of her head. It was actually impossible.

"I hope both babies look like you," he whispered.

When you tilted your head back to look at him, you rolled your eyes. "Rose looks like you."

"Nah. She's too cute."

You looked sleepy, like you could close your eyes and drift right off. "You're a DILF, Bradley. It's so annoying that you don't listen when I tell you that."

He was just alternating kissing Rose's head and yours, making you laugh, when a nurse opened the door and called your name. Bradley wasn't as nervous as he had been when you and he were here a year ago, antsy to find out more about Rose. He had the hang of this parenting thing by now, and he was just excited to hear a heartbeat today. The rest would sort itself out. You and he would figure out which room would become the second nursery. He would open a second college savings account even though both kids would get a full ride. He wasn't worried.

But you still were. He did his best to keep his enthusiasm at a normal volume when you started to stress about money or how exhausted you already were, but inside he was elated. Two kids! Two! If you would have asked him five years ago if he thought he'd ever buy a house, he would have told you no. Now he had a whole fucking family and a dog in the Craftsman.

Two kids under two would be a breeze. He just knew it.

"Right this way," the nurse said pleasantly. "You can wait in here. Dr. Morris will just be another minute or two."

Bradley let you get changed and settle onto the exam table while he bounced Rose in the chair. She was fresh from her nap, and she'd start bugging to eat soon enough. "I must admit, Nugget, I'm a bit surprised you're meeting your little sibling while you're still so tiny."

"He's lying, Rose. He planned it out this time," you replied, laying back with your eyes closed while he reached for your hand. "Your dad is a con artist."

The door opened, and Dr. Morris strode in, looking from you to Bradley and back to you. "I thought you were using the pill? What happened?"

You glared at Bradley. "Yeah, Roo. I thought we were using the pill."

He didn't want to point out that you were the one who left the birth control at home over the July Fourth weekend. "Well, you see, we were using the pill, but then plans changed." He cleared his throat and tried not to grin. "Dr. Morris, are you aware that the pullout method is not foolproof?"

She cradled her head in her hands before looking at him. "You know, I've heard that. Which is why I prescribed the pill."

"I missed one when we were away for a weekend," you whispered, drawing her attention your way. "And I'm really nervous that I didn't give my body enough time to heal after the last pregnancy," you added, gesturing to Rose. "And I'm still a little... heavy... from having her. What if I end up with high blood pressure again because of my weight?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "You're worried about that? You're not even heavy, Sweetheart."

You shrugged, barely able to meet his eyes as Dr. Morris placed a soft hand on your arm. "Let's just give you a full exam, okay? There's no reason to assume the worst right now."

"Okay," you whispered, letting Bradley wrap your fingers up with his. He didn't understand how you could think you were anything other than perfect as you answered the doctor's questions while she turned on the ultrasound machine. Your blood pressure and heart rate sounded like they were perfect, and now it was time to find out more about the baby.

"Since you didn't menstruate after your daughter was born, it might be hard to pinpoint the exact due date."

Bradley cleared his throat again as the ultrasound wand disappeared beneath your hospital gown, making you wince as it was inserted. "Uh, actually, I can probably tell you the exact date and time of the... impregnation."

"You're not helping, Roo," you said, but a smile broke out on your lips. "God, I can't believe we fucked this up."

Then the baby was suddenly visible on the screen, and Bradley rocketed to his feet with Rose. "Look, Baby Girl. Another Nugget! There's the heartbeat!"

"Oh," you whispered, tugging him closer by your connected hands as you stared at the monitor. Tears shimmered in your eyes. "Okay, so maybe we didn't fuck up too badly."

"Everything looks great," Dr. Morris said, taking a few measurements. "You're about eleven to twelve weeks along. Let me narrow it down for you."

But Bradley already knew. He'd already done the math in his head. He was not at all surprised when she said the due date was April Fool's Day.

"That's not funny," you told Dr. Morris, gasping before bursting out laughing.

"I'm not joking," she replied. "Next year, April first. That's your due date. I'll see you back here in a few more weeks."

"Thanks," you whispered, holding tight to the ultrasound images that had been printed out for you. Dr. Morris gave Bradley a stern look as she walked past, and he had to fight the urge to salute in response. He was probably on thin ice with several people right now.

"I have to call my parents later. I wonder if we should tell them now?" you mused.

Oh, shit. He hadn't even thought about how your mom and dad might feel. They would love another grandchild, of course, but two so close together?

"Whenever you want to tell them is fine with me," he replied, taking the ultrasounds in his hand. The fridge at home was still covered in Rose's, so now there would be more to add to it. He examined the little nugget shape before showing it to his daughter. "Do you think it's a brother or a sister? Daddy doesn't care either way. I just love Nuggets."

She held the photo in her tiny hand as Bradley helped you get dressed again. He thought maybe it looked like you already had a bump growing, but he wasn't about to comment on your size, even if it did look cute.

"We have so much to do," you sighed. "You've got your new recruits turning up at work soon, and I'm about to start a fourth quarter project next month." A yawn overtook your sentence. "I don't know how we're going to handle things."

He didn't know what else to say, so he said what was becoming his new motto. "We'll figure it out, Sweetheart."

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

Jake was perceptive, but Cat made you feel like you were transparent. Entering code while sitting next to her in the lab was tedious. Every time you breathed, it felt like she was going to figure out you were pregnant again. You swore she already knew.

You were past twelve weeks along. It wasn't like you couldn't start telling people, but you were still apprehensive to do so. But why? It wasn't like you were going to get smaller instead of bigger. Your pants were already fitting a little tighter, and you were absolutely dreading wearing that sad excuse for a maternity uniform again.

"Not the tent," you groaned softly, picturing the hideous, khaki monstrosity in the back of your closet.

"What did you say?" Cat asked, and your fingers froze on the keyboard.

"I said, I am intent on finishing this up today."

"Same," she agreed, her engagement ring sparkling in the fluorescent lighting. "I'm sick of looking at this project. We've been working on the same thing for months. You ready to get lunch?"

You were about to agree when you glanced at your phone and saw a text from your husband. "Um, actually, Bradley asked me to stop by and check something out."

"No worries," she replied, closing her laptop. "I'll see you in an hour."

"Right," you agreed, reading the text again as she walked away.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: can you meet me in the outbuilding next to the tower? wanna show you something

"This better be good." 

It was hot outside, and the asphalt smelled like it was burning before you got to the tarmac. The sun beat down on your back as you power walked your way to the building in question. It was just a bunch of offices, nothing else, so you weren't sure why he wanted you to come all the way over here. When you ducked inside the air conditioning again, you were sweaty and even more tired than before.

But then you saw it. A staff member was changing the names on the directory in the front foyer. One of them jumped out at you immediately, and your belly swooped with excitement.

LCDR Bradley Bradshaw (Room 117)

You rushed along the hallway, going nearly to the end before turning a corner. Room 117 was on the left, but the door was closed. When you knocked, it opened a few inches, and you saw his smiling face.

"You got an office!" you shouted, and the door swung all the way open to reveal a nice, quiet space a little bigger than your own. "Oh, Roo! It's swanky!"

"Swanky?" he asked with a laugh as your boots squeaked across the tile floor. "I wouldn't go right to swanky."

"You have a window! And a little couch!" you exclaimed, peeking out through the blinds to the tarmac. You spun around and looked at everything stacked up on his desk. There were aircraft manuals and clipboards, but there was also a framed wedding photo which was taken in the beach parking lot. And there was a photo of Rose trying to crawl next to Tramp which must have come from his locker. "I'm so proud of you."

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him while he chuckled, but his hand slid lower on your back to your butt, giving you a little squeeze. "Not gonna lie, the first thing I thought of this morning when Mav told me was how cool my dad would have found this."

"Oh, Roo," you whispered, heart clenching.

"The second thing I thought of was fucking you senseless on my desk."

"Bradley!" Your voice was a needy whine, surprising even you. It had been at least a week since you had enough energy for sex, simply passing out in bed as soon as Rose fell asleep each night. But right now, your head tipped back, teeth sinking into your lip as you thought about how good he could make you feel if you let him.

One eyebrow was raised as he asked, "Do you want to? I have thirty minutes until I need to show my new pilots around."

Your hands were already on the fly of his khaki pants. "Yes." You didn't know what came over you, but you were horny as hell and absolutely needed this.

"Yeah?" he grunted, sucking in a deep breath as your hand delved into his underwear to wrap around his heavy cock. "Shit, Sweetheart."

You staggered backwards when he pushed you toward his desk, but he was gentle as your rear end met the edge. He'd be careful with you, that much was certain, but you were so horny, you wanted him immediately.

Bradley's fingers fumbled with your zipper as he said, "You know, this would be a lot easier if you were wearing your maternity tent."

"I was just thinking about that thing earlier!" you replied, laughing as you kissed him. 

"Ugly but functional," he whispered, mustache rough against your skin when he mashed his mouth to yours. 

You were left a moaning mess as his fingers stroked your tattoo before yanking your pants down to your knees. Then he was on his knees in front of you, looking up as he kissed your chubby belly, pushing your shirt out of his way. His lips were so soft, but his voice was raspy.

"The first quickie in my new office. Hopefully the first of many."

"Once upon a time, you promised you'd keep your hands off me at work," you whispered, his lips kissing along until his nose was rubbing your clit. "Pretty sure you lied about that one, Roo."

When his tongue dragged the length of your slit, his fingers tightened on your hips, digging in until you gasped. "You know when to take me seriously and when I'm full of shit. And right now, I'm so serious about making you scream."

He was. You could tell he was. Your husband was ready to go at a moment's notice all the time, and even a few days without fucking made you feel like he had some pent up energy that was going to make this explosive. Your nipples were tender and leaking into your nursing bra, but he didn't let you have a second to yourself before he turned you around and shimmied his pants lower.

"You ready for me?" he grunted, cock tapping your butt with excitement as he stroked your clit. Your hands were braced on his desk, and he nudged your boots further apart before guiding himself to your opening.

"So ready," you whispered. "Fuck me, Daddy."

Your body jerked forward, making you hang onto the desk for dear life as he fucked you hard and deep with one stroke. "If you weren't already pregnant again, you would be after this," he swore, withdrawing before plowing into you again. "Let's have ten kids."

"Bradley!" But he wasn't listening. He was fucking you rough, desk rattling against your knees and hands as he jerked the furniture across the floor a little more with each thrust.

"You look so good when you're pregnant. I wish you could see your ass. My god." He moaned your name. "Go ahead and scream for me."

That's when you realized your gasping breaths had gotten loud enough that they were echoing around the room over the sound of the desk moving. Bradley was relentless, his movements almost too much, but the steady stroke of his fingers on your clit kept you on your feet. A loud, long keen escaped your lips when you tried to breathe.

"That's it," he coaxed, rolling your clit between his thumb and index finger. "Just... a little louder."

His voice was breathless in your ear as his palm landed on your ass, the loud, stinging slap making you scream his name. 

"Perfect," he whispered, cupping you with his palm, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit while you came. "Let me cum in your pretty pussy, and you can wear it to lunch with your friends."

That thought alone had your eyes rolling back in your head. You'd smell like him for the rest of the day, his sticky mess teasing at your thighs whenever you walked around. He did as he promised, fucking you until you were filled up, and then he dragged your underwear up your legs, keeping you full of him.

Bradley was kissing along your sweat-slick neck as he zipped and buttoned his uniform pants. But now you were standing there, so exhausted, you just wanted to curl up on his couch and take a nap.

"You're not eating lunch?" you asked, stifling a yawn as he helped you squeeze into your pants. "I'm starving."

"I don't have time," he replied, kissing you as he tucked your shirt in. "I've got ten new pilots to attend to, and I want them up in the air by the end of the week."

You held back another yawn. "Okay. Do you want to get Rose from daycare later or should I?"

This wasn't the kind of sexy post-fuck discussion the two of you usually had, which made you feel very conscious of the fact that you couldn't stop yawning. Bradley was adding pages to his clipboard as he said, "Can you get her? I'm not sure when I'll be done today. There's so much damn paperwork. I swear to god, the US Navy hates trees."

"Yeah, I can get her."

You started to head for the door when he looked up and asked, "Want me to walk you out?"

Yeah, you kind of did, but he already looked like his focus had moved on. "No, I'm fine on my own. See you at home tonight."

"I love you." He kissed your cheek and patted your butt with one big hand, and you were off in search of lunch. When you walked back along the sidewalk in the bright sunlight you considered just going home and sleeping for the afternoon. Would anyone even miss you? Perhaps you should just turn toward the parking lot.

"Hey!"

When you looked up and actually focused, you realized you were about to run into Cam. "Oh, hey."

"Want to split one of those super cheesy pasta bowls that we always say are bad for us but get anyway?" he asked, guiding you inside to the cafeteria as you laughed. 

"Yeah, why not?" You wanted to tell him you were about to gain a ton more weight anyway, so it wouldn't make much difference. But you didn't.

"Perfect," he replied, loading one tray with enough food for both of you. "Then you can tell me how Rosie is, but first I need to tell you who showed up on one of my dating apps."

"Who?" you asked, covering your mouth as you yawned again.

"Guess!"

You started eating food off the tray before you even got to the table. "I don't want to guess. I'm too tired to guess."

"Fine," he sighed. "Ryan."

"No," you gasped. "From the Academy? Your ex?"

"Yep," Cam replied with a grin. "And he looks terrible."

You got to spend the next fifteen minutes indulging your friend in his gossip session. It helped that Ryan from the Academy did in fact look awful now, and you helped Cam swipe through his app options as you ate more than half of the pasta yourself. You were just finishing things off with a breadstick and telling him about Rose when you saw Bradley walk in.

Your hand was in the air, ready to wave him over and laugh at him for his inability to skip a meal when you realized he wasn't alone. There were several officers with him, none of which you could remember seeing on base before. You assumed they must be his new pilots from Texas. But one of them pushed her way to the front of the group, and your hand slowly lowered back down to your side.

She was beautiful. Young and slim with dark hair and the brightest blue eyes you'd ever seen. And she was walking next to your husband and laughing like he'd just told her the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard in her life. Bradley nodded and smiled down at her, his expression merely polite. At least that's what you thought. Now you weren't so sure. He knew you came to the cafeteria, so why wasn't he looking around for you? Why wasn't he checking to see if you were still here? 

"So is Rose crawling yet?"

You turned to look at Cam in confusion, heart pounding at a sickening rate that made you want to throw up. "Huh?"

"Rose," he repeated, chewing up his breadstick. "Is she crawling?"

"Oh. Um, no. Not yet."

You couldn't look away as the other woman's smile seemed to light up the area around her, and you wanted to cry when Bradley handed her a tray before the whole group got in line for lunch. Maybe you really were going to throw up.

"Hey, Cam, I have to run," you whispered, voice harsh as you stood.

"Brunch on Sunday with Maria?" he asked hopefully, but you could only nod as you headed for the far exit as quickly as you could move. 

You stumbled along, thinking about the way Bradley fucked you against his desk barely thirty minutes ago. He'd made you feel so good, but now you were outrageously jealous over some unknown woman, and you had to get back to work. You couldn't control it. Why were you reacting this way? This wasn't even like you.

But somehow you could just tell that something wasn't right.

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

Why do I have the urge to send Bradley to jail? Someone needs to be locked up for poor behavior, and it's not Rose. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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