#this spot still makes me laugh every time

[orangeblossomsintheair]

Got anymore dad thoughts for any cod characters? Would love to see something with Price (the man was meant to be a father)

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU | JOHN PRICE

an : ur so right anon he was absolutely meant to be a dad i love him sm. this is pre-dad john more than anything.. 😔

“Have you been pregnant before?” you ask suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

John pauses, hands still wrapped around your foot, his thumbs mid-press into a spot that’s been aching all day.

He lifts his head, eyes narrowing at you. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief as his hands resume their firm, steady motion. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but biologically speaking, I’m not exactly built for that kind of thing.”

You squint at him, undeterred. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, then what the hell did you mean?” His tone is gruff, but there’s a hint of amusement under the surface.

He always has that undercurrent with you. A softness he tries to disguise with his bark.

“You know.”

“No, I don’t,” he counters, glancing up at you briefly before turning his attention back to your foot. “But I’m dying to find out.”

“You always know what I need,” you accuse, pointing a finger at him.

“Like this.” You wiggle your toes for emphasis. “You knew I needed a foot massage before I even said anything. How do you do that?”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “You’ve been limping around all day and groaning every time you sit down. Wasn’t exactly a tough call.”

You cross your arms, refusing to let him brush it off. “It’s not just this. It’s everything. You always know what I’m craving, or when I’m upset, or when I’m about to cry, even when I’m trying to hide it. It’s weird.”

“Weird,” he repeats, his tone dry. “So I’m weird because I pay attention to you?”

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Exactly! How do you always know?”

John lets out a slow breath, sitting back a little as his hands leave your foot. “Because I love you.”

The way he says it, calm, steady, like it’s the simplest truth in the world, makes your heart stutter.

“That’s not an answer,” you say, your voice quieter now.

“Yes, it is,” John says, his gaze steady, unreadable, but something softer lingers in the corners of his eyes. His hands never stop working over your foot, kneading away the ache with practiced care. “I just… know, alright?”

“Know what?” you prod, narrowing your eyes at him.

He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening like he’s weighing the words in his head. Finally, he mutters, “How you are.”

“That’s vague,” you counter, lips quirking.

He sighs, shaking his head. “I know because I pay attention . Like how you always chew on your lip when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your hands shake when you’re upset, even if you’re smiling. I know the difference between your happy sighs and your tired sighs. I know the exact moment you’re about to ask me to grab you a snack but you’re too stubborn to say it out loud. I know because I’ve made it my business to know.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet certainty in his tone. “That’s… weirdly sweet.”

His brows pull together, and he huffs a short laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Weirdly sweet? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Well, yeah.” You grin, sensing his discomfort and leaning into it. “I mean, you’re supposed to be this big, gruff guy, right? You bark orders, fix broken things, intimidate anyone who looks at me wrong-”

“I don’t bark,” he interrupts, giving you a pointed look.

“Oh, you bark,” you tease, deepening your voice in a poor imitation of his. “‘Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Let me carry that for you, ma’am.’”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but he just shakes his head and resumes working on your foot. “That’s the worst impression I’ve ever heard.”

“Rude,” you shoot back.

“Honest,” he counters. His thumb presses into a particularly tight spot, and you let out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“You’re dodging,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes at him again.

“I’m not dodging. I’m sitting here rubbing your feet after a long day, and this is the thanks I get? You calling me weird and making fun of my voice?”

“Oh, so you’re playing the martyr now?”

“If the shoe fits,” he mutters, smirking when you swat at his arm.

You glance down at him, trying to hide the way his words make you feel all soft and warm inside.

“Okay, sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of yoy. You make it sound so.. simple.”

“Because it is,” he says matter-of-factly.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just keeps his hands moving, his touch firm and grounding. He's silent in that way that tells you he's thinking so you let him stew.

When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m supposed to notice. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head, watching him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He hesitates, his hands stilling briefly. Then he looks up, meeting your eyes with that quiet intensity of his. “If I don’t notice, who will?”

Your breath catches, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.

He smirks, like he knows he’s thrown you off balance. “What? No smart remark?”

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it.

“And you’re a pain in my ass,” he shoots back, but his hand brushes over your ankle in a gesture so gentle it makes your chest ache.

“Admit it,” you say softly, the words more of a dare than a request. “You love me.”

His smirk fades, replaced by something quieter, something real. “You already know the answer to that.”

“Say it anyway,” you whisper, your voice catching.

He leans forward, his hand cradling your foot, his gaze steady and unflinching. “I love you,” he says, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Even when you’re being impossible.”

You smile, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Damn it, John.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He squeezes your foot one last time before setting it down and shifting closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you in. “Come here, you sap.”

And when his lips press against yours, it’s not rough or hurried, it’s steady, grounding, and full of all the things he doesn’t say out loud.

You laugh, breaking from the kisss, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect,” he counters without hesitation.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he challenges, and before you can come up with a retort, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek.

When he pulls back, his expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it. “You’re everything to me,” he says quietly, and the weight of his words settles over you like a blanket, warm and comforting.

“You’re going to make me cry," you whisper, voice thick.

“Don’t cry,” he says, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ll just give yourself a headache, and then I’ll have to deal with that too.”

You laugh through the tears threatening to spill, leaning into his touch. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are,” he says, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Here I am,” you agree, and for once, you don’t feel the need to say anything else.

[daryltwdixon]

hii! i dont know if you are still taking requests or not, but if you are, you think you could write something fluff with daryl at the prison era, where reader always give him kisses before he or she left the place and daryl always acts nonchalant (but he secretly loves it) and one day she forgots to do that and he acts grumpy all day?

Daryl x Reader request

fluff, established relationship, prison era

a/n: thank you for the request! I always love an angsty Daryl who is secretly a big softie

Every morning, like clockwork, it happened. No matter the chaos, no matter how many things needed to be done, you always made time for him. A quick, soft kiss on the lips before heading out to handle the day. It wasn’t anything grand or dramatic—it didn’t need to be. It was your little thing, a moment of connection that seemed to ground him in ways he couldn’t quite put into words.

And every time, Daryl would react the same way. A quiet grunt, a half-hearted roll of his eyes, like it was no big deal. Like it didn’t make his chest feel lighter or his head swim for a second longer than he cared to admit. But it wasn’t just routine for him—it had become something he looked forward to, a bright spot in an otherwise bleak world.

This morning, though, something was different.

You were busy, running around with Glenn and Maggie, prepping for a supply run. You gave him a quick wave and a distracted smile before hopping into the truck, and then you were gone.

No kiss.

Daryl blinked, standing there like an idiot, his lips still tingling from the ghost of something that didn’t happen.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That he wasn’t some lovesick puppy pining for affection like a teenager. But as the day dragged on, he couldn’t shake the nagging irritation.

Everything seemed to piss him off more than usual. The way Carl left his tools scattered around, how Rick kept asking for updates on the fence, even the way the damn wind wouldn’t stop blowing dust into his face. Carol caught on fast, as she always did.

“You’ve been stomping around all day,” she said, leaning against the fence. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothin’,” he grumbled, refusing to look at her.

Carol smirked knowingly. “You’re a terrible liar. Did your girlfriend not kiss you goodbye or somethin'?”

His shoulders stiffened for a split second—a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment—but it was all the confirmation she needed.

“Oh my god, you’re serious!” Carol burst into laughter, her voice echoing through the yard. “I can’t believe it! Poor Daryl, all grumpy ‘cause he didn’t get his smooch.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, his ears turning red. He tried to play it cool, scowling as he resumed working, but he knew he’d been caught.

Carol wasn’t letting it go. “I’ll give you a kiss if it makes you feel better, pookie!” she teased, puckering her lips dramatically.

“Pfft...nah,” Daryl shot back, dropping the wire cutter and practically bolting from the fence line.

Carol chuckled in amusement, watching him stalk off toward the other side of the yard.

He didn’t stop or turn around, but the faintest mutter of “crazy woman” drifted back in response.

By the time the truck rolled back into the yard, dusk was settling over the prison. Daryl was back crouched near the gates, his gloved hands fidgeting with the wire of the fence, pretending to be engrossed in his task. He wasn’t waiting for you—not deliberately, anyway.

When you hopped out of the truck, laughing softly at something Maggie said, his eyes flickered up, but he quickly looked away, focusing harder on his work.

“Hey,” you said softly, walking up to him.

He barely grunted in response, his grip tightening around the wire. His body language screamed irritation, but his gaze refused to meet yours.

“Daryl,” you said again, your tone gentler this time. When he didn’t respond, you knelt down beside him, your voice coaxing. “Baby, look at me, please.”

He sighed heavily, begrudgingly shifting his attention to you. His stormy blue eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the tension between you hung thick in the air. He wasn’t mad at you—he could never be mad at you. He was mad at himself, frustrated that something so small, so seemingly insignificant, could gnaw at him all day. It was ridiculous. How could the absence of one fleeting kiss turn his mood so sour?

But then your hand cupped his cheek, and the roughness of his expression softened under your touch. Before he could think of something gruff to say, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. The kiss was slow, sweet, and deliberate—an unspoken apology wrapped in warmth.

It was like flipping a switch. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by a low heat that spread through his chest. He kissed you back, his gloved hand tentatively rising to rest on your arm, as if grounding himself in the moment.

When you pulled away, your cheeks were flushed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry—I should’ve known.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Known what?” he rasped, his voice rougher than usual.

“That I forgot to give you a kiss goodbye this morning,” you said, your lips curving into a faint, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for that.”

Daryl didn’t respond right away. Instead, he threw off his gloves and his hands shot out, curling around yours with a firm grip. Without another word, he tugged you to your feet and led you toward the prison’s interior. His steps were purposeful, his silence heavy but charged.

“Daryl, where are we—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish the question. The moment he found an empty, shadowed room, he pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. Before you could ask again, his lips were on yours, his movements urgent and unrestrained.

Your back hit the wall as he caged you in with his body, his hands sliding to your waist, tugging you closer. His breath was hot against your mouth as he growled, “Ain’t lettin’ you forget again.”

The kiss deepened, his lips and hands telling you everything he couldn’t put into words. You clung to him, matching his intensity, feeling the fervent need behind his touch. The world outside that room ceased to exist as he lost himself in you, determined to make up for the day’s earlier frustration in a way only he could.

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x READER WHO WEARS GLASSES

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: totally didn't write this just because i wear glasses lol.. anyways, my requests for hyun-ju are open, but check this out if you wanna request for other squid game characters. if you don't see the character you want to request for send me an ask!

▸ hyun-ju herself has a sharp eye, we've all seen it. how she manages to target each guard with very little struggle & how she spots and hits! every security cam in the room with ease.

▸ her sight is precise, like an eagle. different from you, yours is more like a... woodpecker.

▸ it makes for a subtle dynamic in your relationship. like how she's the one that reads directions from afar when you aren't wearing your glasses, or how she always carries lens wipes in her purse or pocket.

▸ if you were in the games with her, she would be more protective over your glasses than you are. "just leave it, i'll buy a new one. eventually." you shrug, "are you joking? you're just gonna continue blind?" — "hyun-ju, i can still see!"

▸ she wouldn't be the type to joke about it, but she would definitely tease from time to time. like after you just woke up, she'll laugh while holding her fingers up, "how many fingers do you see?" just to get a laugh out of you.

▸she thinks its cute that you have glasses, she 100% would be type to say "it's adorable how you have your gorgeous eyes framed." while pushing your glasses up so they don't slip.

▸ if you ever bring up the fact that you want to change to just wearing contacts or if you do switch to contacts, she would bring your glasses everywhere just in case.

▸ oh and, when i say her sight is sharp, i also mean it in a way where she also notices everything. and not only when it comes to your glasses too. if you need something, she'll know right away. if your body language feels off, she'll ask if everything is okay. if you feel cold or let out a tiny cough, she'll immediately lend whatever jacket or coat she has on.

▸ oh and if it's raining, she'll wipe the raindrops from your glasses, softly of course, so they don't blur your lenses.

▸ i think her acts of service-ness really plays a part in your relationship. to summarize it all up, she would be really caring and protective, her purse filled with your eyedrops, glasses case, and everything you would ever need.

[thef1diary]

“the idea of an audience seemed to spur him on” from your dirtbag daniel blurb 👀 can you write something to expand on this idea? anything goes really, I know you’ll come up with something good

— nonnieeee this idea 🥵 he would love to tease you (and make you cum) while his friends are around. 18+ content below

The dining table buzzed with conversation and clinking glasses, but the sound barely registered over the pounding of your pulse. You were perched in Daniel’s lap, your thighs spread just enough to take him deep, his cock buried inside you. It had been his idea to share a chair—he’d laughed it off, telling the crowd it was charming—but you knew the truth. He knew you weren’t wearing panties so he swiftly took his cock out as your seat for the night.

Now, his fingers toyed lazily with the hem of your dress, brushing over your skin as if nothing at all was amiss. “You’re doing so good,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a low, teasing drawl meant for your ears alone. “Sitting all pretty with my cock inside you, like the dirty girl you are.”

Your nails dug into the edge of the table, knuckles white, as you tried to stay still. Every subtle shift of your hips sent sparks shooting through your body, and Daniel wasn’t making it any easier. His hand slipped beneath the fabric, fingers trailing higher until he found where you were stretched tight around him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, almost reverently. “You’re so wet. You’re dripping for me, sweetheart.”

The wet sounds were audible now, slick and obscene beneath the table, and your cheeks burned with humiliation. You bit down hard on your lip to keep quiet, but Daniel wasn’t about to let you off that easy.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Grind on me,” he instructed, his tone calm and commanding. “Slow, like you’re just getting comfortable.”

Your breath hitched, your thighs trembling as you obeyed, shifting your weight ever so slightly. The movement dragged his cock against that perfect spot inside you, and you had to choke back a whimper.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice dark and silky. “Don’t stop now. Make yourself feel good.”

Your hips rolled in tiny circles, each movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible—almost. The wet slide of your arousal made it harder to disguise, and you swore the hum of conversation around the table faltered for a moment.

Daniel’s lips brushed your temple, a mockery of tenderness. “You’re so close to getting caught,” he murmured. “One wrong move and they’ll all see you like this—spread open on my cock, making a fucking mess of yourself.”

Your head turned sharply, panic flashing in your eyes, but Daniel only smirked. His hand moved lower, his fingers finding your clit and pinching it lightly. The sensation was too much, too sharp, and a strangled moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

Conversation at the table came to a halt, heads turning in your direction.

“You okay?” one of his friends asked, brows furrowing in concern.

“She’s fine,” Daniel said smoothly, his hand never leaving you. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nodded quickly, your face burning, but you couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Especially not with Daniel’s fingers still rubbing slow, devastating circles over your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

He leaned in again, his voice a low growl. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Right here, in front of all my friends.”

You shook your head desperately, but your body betrayed you, hips jerking against his hand as your orgasm barreled toward you.

“That’s okay,” he whispered, his tone dripping with mockery. “I don’t mind if they see. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

The pressure inside you snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you with a force that stole your breath. A loud, uncontrollable moan tore from your throat, and this time, there was no hiding it.

“Daniel,” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips like a confession.

The table fell silent. Every pair of eyes was on you now, their expressions shifting from confusion to dawning realization.

Daniel’s grin was smug as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand smoothing over your back. “Good girl,” he murmured, too low for anyone else to hear.

You buried your face in his shoulder, humiliation burning hot in your chest as the aftershocks of your release left you trembling. But Daniel wasn’t done.

He shifted slightly, his cock still hard inside you, and whispered, “Time to get up now, sweetheart.”

Your head shot up, eyes wide with panic. “I can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” he interrupted, his grin widening. “I want them to see the mess you’ve made. Feel it drip down your thighs when you stand up, let them hear it.”

Your heart pounded as he shifted his chair back slightly, his hands guiding you to your feet. And as you moved, the unmistakable wet sound of your release sliding down your thighs filled the silent room.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[cherryxbooo]

PLSSSSS MAKE ANOTHER TIM BRADFORD X READER PLSSS. maybe pregnant reader????

You’re everything to me

Summary: A day in the life with baby Bradford on the way.

Note: First of all my apologies, this is a very short one, but I hope you guys enjoy it! 🤍

Reader x Tim Bradford

Genre: fluff

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains as I lay in bed, one hand on my belly and the other scrolling lazily through my phone.

Tim had already been up for an hour, starting his usual workout routine.

I smiled as I heard faint grunts and the rhythmic clinking of weights coming from the garage.

It was comforting, knowing he’d never miss a beat, whether it was his job, his routine, or doting on me.

The flutter in my belly drew my attention back to the life growing inside me.

I couldn’t help but talk to the baby sometimes.

“Your daddy’s so tough, isn’t he? But don’t let him fool you, he’s a big softie for us.”

As if summoned by my words, Tim appeared in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder, his face glistening with sweat.

“Morning beautiful,” he said, a grin spreading across his face as he noticed me still curled up in bed.

“Morning, hotshot,” I teased, propping myself up on an elbow.

“Did you win your battle with the weights today?”

“They never stood a chance,” he replied, walking over to kiss my forehead.

His hand instinctively found its way to my bump, resting there gently.

“How’s my team doing this morning?”

“We’re hungry,” I said with mock seriousness.

“Say less,” Tim said, smirking. “Pancakes again?”

“Pancakes are always the answer,” I replied, grinning.

After breakfast, Tim got ready for work.

As he buttoned up his uniform shirt, I couldn’t help but admire him.

Even after all these years, there was something undeniably comforting and attractive about the way he carried himself.

“Don’t work too hard today,” I said, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he stood by the mirror.

He turned, his eyes softening.

“I’ll try, but you know how it is.” He leaned down to kiss me, lingering for a moment.

“Promise me you’ll rest today?”

“I promise,” I said, though we both knew I had a hard time sitting still.

The precinct was bustling when Tim arrived.

Officers were briefing each other on cases, phones were ringing, and the coffee machine in the corner had a line of tired officers waiting.

As Tim made his way to his desk, Angela intercepted him with a knowing smirk.

“How’s Y/n?” she asked, leaning against his desk as he set down his gear.

“She’s good,” Tim replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Still craving pancakes every morning, though.”

Angela laughed.

“That baby’s already got good taste. How’s she holding up with you being at work all day?”

Tim chuckled. “She says she’s fine, but I know she gets bored. She’s been texting me baby name ideas all week.”

Angela raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Any winners yet?”

He shrugged, but his grin gave him away.

“We’ll figure it out together. She’s got some good ones.”

Angela patted his arm.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Tim. Just don’t turn the kid into a mini drill sergeant, okay?”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “No promises.”

By mid-afternoon, I found myself restless.

The baby’s kicks were getting more frequent, and while I loved our home, it felt too quiet without Tim.

On a whim, I decided to visit him at the station.

When I walked in, the familiar hum of activity greeted me.

Officers walking about, some deep in conversation, others typing furiously at their desks.

I spotted Lucy first. Her face lit up as she saw me.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” she asked, hurrying over to hug me.

“I got bored,” I admitted, laughing.

“And I missed Tim.”

“Well, you’re in luck. He’s over there pretending to be grumpy about paperwork,” she said, pointing to his desk.

Tim looked up just as I approached, his expression softening immediately.

“Hey,” he said, standing up to greet me.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were resting.”

“I was,” I replied, smiling.

“But I needed a change of scenery. Plus, I figured you might need some moral support with all that paperwork.”

He smirked, pulling out his chair and motioning for me to sit.

“You’re the best distraction I could ask for.”

As we chatted, more of his colleagues came by to say hello.

Angela joked about how I was keeping Tim in line, and Lucy started quizzing me about baby names.

“You guys are going to have the cutest kid,” Lucy gushed, her excitement contagious.

Tim, who had been standing protectively close to me, placed a hand on my shoulder.

“As long as they don’t take after Lucy’s sense of humor, we’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” Lucy protested, laughing.

That evening, the soft glow of the living room lamp bathed the room in warmth as we settled on the couch together.

Tim had pulled me close, his arm draped protectively around my shoulders while his free hand rested on my growing belly.

The rhythmic motion of his fingers tracing gentle circles on my skin sent a wave of calm through me.

It was as if, without even trying, he could communicate love and reassurance in the simplest ways.

I tilted my head to rest against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his aftershave mixed with the faint hint of coffee from his shift.

“Today was nice,” I said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

His hand stilled for a moment, and I felt his head turn slightly toward me.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice warm with curiosity.

“Mmhmm,” I murmured.

“It felt good to see you in your element, and to remind your colleagues how lucky they are to work with you.”

Tim chuckled, a deep sound that reverberated through his chest.

“Lucky to work with me? You sure we were talking about the same group of people? Because they spend half their time teasing me about being a grump.”

I smirked, reaching up to run my fingers along his jawline.

“That’s just because they don’t know you the way I do.”

He turned his head fully to look at me now, his lips curving into that rare, unguarded smile that he reserved for moments like this.

“Oh yeah? And how do you know me, exactly?”

I raised an eyebrow, playing along.

“Well, for starters, I know the grumpy act is just that, an act. Underneath it all, you’re nothing but a big softie.”

Tim scoffed in mock offense, though the smile never left his face.

“Softie? You’re pushing it, sweetheart.”

“Oh, come on,” I teased, sitting up slightly so I could look him directly in the eye.

“Who was it that stayed up all night reading parenting books last week because he wanted to be prepared for every possible scenario?”

“That’s just called being responsible,” he argued, though his ears turned pink, betraying his embarrassment.

“And who bought three different brands of prenatal vitamins because he wasn’t sure which one was the best?”

I pressed, my grin widening.

“I was being thorough,” he muttered, trying to look annoyed but failing miserably.

“And who talks to the baby every morning before work?"

I added, my voice softening as I placed my hand over his where it rested on my belly.

Tim’s eyes flickered to mine, and his expression shifted into something tender.

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” he conceded, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

“But for the record, I’m not the only one completely wrapped around this kid’s finger already.”

I laughed, leaning into him again.

“Fair enough. We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“The best,”

he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

For a while, we sat in companionable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the heater and the occasional creak of the couch as we adjusted.

Tim’s hand resumed its gentle circles on my belly, and I couldn’t resist placing my hand over his again, lacing our fingers together.

“I can’t wait for this little one to join us,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

I tilted my head up to look at him, my heart swelling at the way his blue eyes shone with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

“Me too,” I whispered, my own voice trembling slightly.

Tim leaned down to kiss me, his lips lingering on mine in a way that felt like a promise, a promise of love, of commitment, of a future we were building together.

When he pulled back, I saw the faintest hint of moisture in his eyes, though he quickly blinked it away.

“You’re everything to me, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tears prickled my own eyes as I smiled up at him, my hormones coming through.

“And you’re everything to me.”

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet comfort of our home and the palpable anticipation of the life we were about to bring into the world.

I knew this was what happiness felt like, simple, messy, and filled with more love than I ever thought possible.

The end

[clarkeyshill]

deeply still in love

arthur hill x fem reader

summary: two exes who find their way back to each other

navigation | masterlist | lyric masterlist

𝄞 Well, hey there, lover, I heard you're sober now, It must be easier without me around 𝄞

you stood in the bar with a water in your hand watching as your group of friends yapped drunkenly with each other making you laugh from a distance. you had been sober for just over 6 months now, at first coming to clubs and bars was hard because you felt obliged to drink so you stopped spending nights with your closest friends but eventually you got over it and know you were the permanent designated driver.

you swigged the final drop of water from your cup handing back to the bartender with a smile before deciding to go get some fresh air. you made your way outside wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold december air sent goosebumps over your exposed skin.

“y/n?” a familiar voice called from behind you making you whip around, a few feet away you spotted chris, george and arthur frederick and your eyes quickly scanned for another but couldn’t find him.

the three boys rushed towards you in their drunken states tackling you into a bear hug making you laugh happily, “hello!”

george bounced around like a golden retriever wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “we’ve missed you! we haven’t seen you in ages!” he drew out each word look at his mates who nodded in agreement, “you should come drink with us! let me buy you a drink!”

you reluctantly agreed allowing the three boys to guide you back to the bar, “what you drinking y/n/n?”

“just a water for me please.” you smiled kindly at the bartender, who nodded turning to make the four of them their drinks.

“you wankers! where the fuck did you go?” a voice called towards the three boys and you froze at the familiarity of it, the voice that used to calm your every thoughts and that brought you so much comfort, “you’re a bunch of twats!”

george, arthur and chris looked between yourself and arthur hill sheepishly.

arthur’s ranting quickly paused when he laid his eyes on you, drinking in all of your features he had missed so deeply over the past year and a half. his eyes scanned your face adoring how your eyes still looked at him with a certain softness that was saved specifically for him.

“hi.”

“hi.”

you smiled at him, and he smiled back making the three boys beside the pair cough awkwardly as arthurtv handed you your drink and you thanked him softly, “no vodka and cranberry?” your ex questioned looking at the clear liquid in your hands.

“i don’t drink anymore.” you told him and he nodded with a proud smile on his face, “i haven’t drank in half a year.”

george pulled at chris’ arm gesturing for them to leave you and arthur alone which arthurtv and chris agreed to making their way towards a random empty table. you twirled on your seat at the bar looking at arthur through your eyelashes as he took the stool next to you.

“half a year?”

you nodded sipping your water, “well done,” he congratulated you squeezing your free hand softly, “must be easier without me forcing you to go out every weekend.”

you hummed pursing your lips, “you could say that.” you smirked teasing him slightly making him laugh.

𝄞 Go tell your mother that she did nothing wrong cause you seem happier ever since I've been gone 𝄞

you sat on your sofa cuddled under a thick throw with your laptop on your lap scrolling through your youtube explore page to watch something as you got cosy for the night. since you and arthur broke up broke up a year ago, you had spent most of your nights sleeping on the couch not used to the emptiness of your bed quite yet.

as you scrolled, your eyes landed on a thumbnail that held arthur and his mum on their podcast and you smiled lightly seeing his smile. he looked happy, happier than he had in the last months of your relationship.

you had seen his social media posts many times over the past months - not seeing the use of unfollowing each other - and he was genuinely happy, focusing on himself and his music, it made your heart simultaneously melt and break.

you clicked on the video watching the mother-son duo joke and laugh with eachother as they always did making tears prick in your eyes as a lump formed in your throat, it was strange seeing two of the people you held closer to your heart become more distant as time went on. you knew deep down that eventually, arthur would find a new, better, girlfriend who lisa would take in just like she had with you and you’d be forgotten.

it was normal, a part of life.

as long as he’s happy, is all you thought watching the pod with a haze of memories for your years spent together.

𝄞 Well, I heard you might've found somebody new I still can't swallow it 𝄞

yourusername

21.2k likes | 648 comments

yourusername happy girl 🩶

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miaxmon so happy for you beaut 🥹

┃ yourusername love you mi 😘

shannonlangdon ill cry 😭

┃ yourusername 🥰🥰

userone someone check on arthur please

┃ usertwo im sure he’s fine 🙄

usertwo cuties 🤧

faithlouisak happiness looks good on you chicky 💕💕

┃ yourusername love you miss kelly payne 🫶🏻🫶🏻

arthur sat in the kitchen with george and chris scrolling through his feed mindlessly as he chewed down on the meal chris had made for the three of them. he scrolled until he stopped on your recent post and his throat closed as his stomach dropped, arthur quickly dropped his fork making a b-line to the bathroom and his food came straight back out as he gagged.

chris and george looked at each other in confusion as arthur came back into the kitchen as if nothing had just happened but his mates could tell something was up by his moody attitude towards them.

but george and chris brushed it off with a shrug letting their friend come to them whenever he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

𝄞 But I think I'm proud of you 𝄞

arthurnfhill

19.3k likes | 297 comments

arthurnfhill hey guys no biggie just taking a break from tour to tell you that my first EP ‘in the middle of somewhere’ is coming out on the 14th of february. oh and a song called lily will also be all yours at midnight tonight. in other words its all bloody happening and i am VERY excited. if your feeling generous you can presave the EP from the link in my bio. love ya.

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eleanorneale WOWWW this artwork is insane 🤩 so excited for the EP yaaay!!!!!!

┃ arthurnfhill me too!!!

arthurhillhq MAJOR!! so so proud

┃ arthurnfhill thank you arthur hill

userone screaming omg 😭😭

yourusername so so unbelievably proud of you art ❤️

┃ arthurnfhill thank you ❤️

┃ userone oh my gosh

┃ usertwo not our parents interacting 🥲

𝄞 And I went out tonight Shit don't feel the same, I try and bury it 'til I called her by your name 𝄞

arthur stumbled into his flat knocking things over as he made his way to the livingroom shushing himself as he did so trying not to wake up his flatmates, which failed. george came out of his room looking at his best friend, who was slumped against the wall, in concern, “how much did you drink?” he questioned, helping arthur to the living room.

“i didn’t even wanna drink.” arthur shook his head, plopping down on the sofa pulling the throw over him, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about her.”

the sadness in arthur’s voice made george look down at his friend with sympathy, “it’s okay, mate.” george comforted high, rubbing his shoulder softly.

“i miss her, george.”

george nodded letting arthur drop his head into his chest with a sigh, “i called the girl i was with by her name as well, and then i looked like a loser drinking by myself.”

“what do you wanna do?” george asked, making arthur shrug in defeat, “are you going to talk to y/n?”

arthur shot up almost falling back into the cushions, “i can’t do that, she has a new boyfriend, and she’s happy.”

george pressed his lips together hiding what he knew but arthur didn’t let it go unnoticed, even in his drunken state he knew when his friend was hiding something! “you know something.”

george chewed at his cheek before nodding, “y/n told becky that she isn’t happy with her boyfriend.”

george had paraphrased what you had said to becky leaving out the parts where you had confessed to still being in love with arthur.

“really?” arthur elbows rested on his knees as his head fell forward, “i have to speak to her.”

“in the morning, yeah?”

𝄞 I'm sorry, but I'm deeply still in love, In love with you 𝄞

it was 3 a.m. and your phone buzzed violently next to you on the coffee table making you groan as you rolled over on your couch reaching out for it not looking at the contact before you answered it, “hello?”

“y/n…”

the voice rang through your years sending shivers down your spine as you sat up straight, “arthur? w-what, are you okay?”

a hum came from the other end of the line as well as a laugh, “this is so stupid,” he grumbled, kicking what sounded like a bin, “i’m outside.”

you hung up instantly racing out of your flat and down the stairs to the main entrance spotting a dishevelled arthur sat leaning against the wall, “arthur…” you said, walking over to him and he stood up quickly rushing over to you pulling you close to his body. you laid your head on his chest inhaling carefully letting your sense flood with the scent of his cologne and the beer had been drinking, “are you still drunk?”

he shook his head dropping his chin onto your head closing his eyes, “no, i stopped drinking hours ago and george was feeding me water.”

“good.”

you pulled away from him looking up at him with a soft smile, “i broke up with my boyfriend.”

“good.”

you nodded and arthur’s hands moved from your waist to cup your jaw, you leaned up standing on your toes letting your lips touch as you melted into each other finding peace in each others touch.

“i’m so in love with you.” arthur mumbled against your lips before following you back into your apartment building.

[thanosscross]

Fake Girlfriend, Fake Boyfriend, Silly! - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 2

Summary: Taking a day off from tour, the boys and you make the most of it, going out to party Seung Hyun ends up saying more than what he means too

Warnings: A very drunk and sensitive Seung Hyun

In between shows were always your favorite, it gave you time to enjoy whatever town you were in, this time, it allowed you to relax with your favorite guys, too worn out to really want to do anything other than lay around. As you walked into the shared hotel room you noticed the messy empty room, not a single person to be found.

The boys sat on the couch in the conference room laughing as they answered another question "So, T.o.p, You're now officially on tour with your girlfriend, Y/n, that's got to be exciting, where is she?" The woman asked kindly watching as the boys started to coo at their older friend causing his cheeks up "Y-Yea, it's amazing, Y/n's a really talented artist and being able to work with her has definitely been a change of pace from these weirdos" Seung Hyun teased before glancing at the small clock mounted to the wall, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed it was almost noon and you still hadn't tried messaging or calling any of the boys yet. "As for where she is...She is sleeping upstairs, waking her up is harder than any tour" Ji-Yong added on, leaning over as Seung Hyun checked his phone, Dae-Sung laughing loudly as he saw a message come through

'I swear if you boys left me here alone, I will shave each and every head of hair while you sleep'

"She's so violent!" He laughed loudly as the others leaned over laughing and giggling as they read your message, Finishing up the interview the boys raced to their hotel room, the boys wanting to tell you all the sweet things Seung Hyun said about you, Seung Hyun wanting to get to you before them. You stood cluelessly in your own hotel room, trying to get your hair to lay flat "Y/n!!" You heard their shouts before you saw them all trying to rush through the doorway together "Seung Hyun said you're very talented!" Dae-Sung "He also said he loves his girl!!" Tae-Yang shouted, Seung Hyun stood behind them, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck "I was just acting like a boyfriend" He mumbled following the others into your hotel room "You're very sweet, Aein" You smiled softly, turning to face them all, they all just chose different spots to sit as they sighed "So, what're the plans for today?" You asked sweetly, sitting down next to Ji-Yong on the bed "I would say club, but last time darling over here almost got herself and Seung Hyun in a scandal getting caught grinding on a different guy one night, in reality there wasn't really an issue other than Seung Hyun's jealousy, but to the fans who genuinely thought you and Top were together, they saw it as cheating.

"I didn't mean to!" You shouted throwing yourself onto the bed "Listen! I learned my limit that night!" You added on in protest causing the boys to laugh loudly at your defensiveness "Dalkomi, if you want to go out, I'll go with" Seung Hyun offered.

Which is how you ended up tipsy with a drunk Seung Hyun, you weren't sure how he was so drunk until you noticed one of the V.I.P waitresses refilling his glass anytime it got low. You were having fun though, the boys somewhere on the dance floor other than Ji-Yong, who volunteered to help you make sure nobody went to extreme tonight considering you had a show tomorrow night. "Seung Hyun! You can't grab her like that!" Ji-Yong laughed out watching as his friend very easily moved you around him as he danced, his hands planted firmly on your waist. You just blushed giggling loudly, you liked drunk Seung Hyun, it wasn't often you saw him, but whenever you did, it was always fun, it was always so silly and even flirtier, all while being incredibly sensitive. You squealed as Seung Hyun lifted you into the air, smacking your ass, if it weren't for the fact you were so comfortable with him, you most likely would've smacked him square across the face. "Seung Hyun! Put her down!" Ji-Yong laughed rushing over to you both to keep his hands over Seung Hyun's not wanting to see you get hurt. Placing you on your feet Seung Hyun shot a glare to his friend "She's myyy girl, I would never hurt her!" He slurred, protectively hugging you as he pulled you closer by your hips. You were a flustered mess, between your own alcohol consumption and the high you got just from being around Seung Hyun you were a mess, and Ji-Yong noticed. "Y/n! You want to take him home?" He asked, leaning closer to your ear so you could hear him closely, you nodded in agreement turning your attention to Seung Hyun "You're so pretty" He mumbled admiring the way your eyes were shining under the club lights "Thank you, handsome...Why don't we go back to the hotel?" You asked, taking his hand in yours "I don't want to leave yet, though" He frowned, you just giggled in reply taking his hand into yours gently before leading him to the car that sat waiting outside "I love you, y/n" He slurred as you helped him into the car "Awe, I love you too, you're my best friend" You smiled, squeezing his hand, frowning whenever you watched his face fall "No. I love you, y/n, you're so pretty..and nice..and you always take care of us whenever we need it" He emphasized, turning his head to look at you, you couldn't help but blush, reminding yourself he was always flirty when he was drunk. "You're very sweet, Aein..But let's worry about getting you inside" You offered, taking his hand slowly scooting out of the car as it came to a stop outside of your hotel, getting him inside was nothing, it was getting him to stay in his room.

It had been a good three minutes of not seeing or hearing Seung Hyun which made you worried, as you walked into the connecting room, your heart broke, Seung Hyun drunkenly cried into Ji-Yong's arms who just rubbed his friend's back "She loves you, Seung hyun, but you are drunk, so now is not the time to try and tell her-" He was cut off by his friend "She's just...so nice to me" He sniffled, holding his friends shoulders as Ji-yong laughed softly, remembering an almost similar between you and him a few months after coming out with your fake relationship "I understand that, and she is very nice, but you are going to regret not shutting up in the morning" He replied, trying to help his friend lay down, Seung Hyun just let out another flood of tears fall "Ji-yong..I've got this, love" You said softly making your way to your friend taking his hand in yours before offering him a sympathetic smile "Come on, you can crash with me" You offered helping him to his feet as he smiled at you "See? She's so nice!" Seung hyun cried out as you pulled him to your hotel room, shutting the door so the others could go to sleep as well. "Dalkomi" Seung Hyun called as he fell back onto the bed "Yes?" You asked walking over to help him take off his belt and shoes "Do you want to change?" Your voice was soft, forcing Seung Hyun's attention to it as he took in every little feature of your face like he had done plenty of times before.

Seung Hyun stopped thinking for a moment, even drunk he wasn't sure about taking his clothes off, he knew you'd never be rude towards him or his body, but his mind couldn't stop throwing different situations at him. He was pulled from his racing thoughts by your soft hand cupping his cheek "Seung hyun...You don't have too...or I can step out for a moment?" You offered softly, Seung Hyun wished you'd just stop, stop being so nice to him and making him fall in love you, but you just kept going, even whenever you were grumpy and angry at him, he still liked it. "I love you" He said, holding your hand in both of his, pressing it against his lips gently "Seung Hyun..why don't we talk about this..in the morning?" You hesitated, were you really about to have this conversation with him? "I love you too, more than you know...but Ji-Yong is right, now is not the time" You explained, watching his eyes glisten with excitement for a moment before he nodded "I'll change" He stated after a moment, standing up making his way to your bathroom, pulling his shirt off as he turned to enter the room. It took a few moments, but once Seung Hyun got his night clothes on, he looked in the mirror, taking in his state.

You nervously let your knuckles hit against the bathroom door softly "Aein..Are you okay?.." You called, worried something might've happened, instead the door just slowly opened, you cheeks Immediately heated up with a blush as you noticed his bare chest right in front of you "Yea..yea, I'm okay" He smiled, you took his hand helping him walk properly back to the bed, helping him lay down before going to get changed yourself. It wasn't long before Seung Hyun saw you shyly emerge from the bathroom "U-Um I can't get this..undone, will you?" You asked walking over to him, before sitting down in front of you friend, showing him the dress zipper that was caught in the fabric. You felt a shiver run down your back as your felt his hands brush against your skin, feeling him struggle with the fabric before you felt the dress start to slide down your body, the zipper finally giving up it's hold on the dress fabric setting you free. You quickly caught the fabric holding it to your chest as you rushed back into the bathroom to finish changing, as Seung Hyun laid back down he couldn't push the image of you sitting in front of him with your dress half way down, out of his head, the way your beauty just sucked all of his attention amazed him in the best ways.

You made your way back to the bed, wearing only a pair of night shorts and Seung Hyun's hoodie as you crawled underneath the covers next to Seung Hyun. Glancing over taking in his lost in thought expression, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him to closer to lay his head on your shoulder "I promise..We'll talk in the morning, if you still want too" You assured, resting your head on the top of his as you started to doze off.

The next morning you woke up hopeful, but as the day passed on, the more you got a nerve wracking feeling in your chest, Seung Hyun was acting as if nothing had happened the night before, you knew he was drunk, but he couldn't of been that drunk, right? You stood back stage, waiting for the cue to begin you looked at Seung Hyun, he was joking around pushing Dae-sung off of his mark, getting pushed back in return. Hearing that you'd be delayed by five minutes you took your chance to step towards your friend looking up at him "Seung Hyun..what are we?" you asked quietly, hoping the others wouldn't hear, but unfortunately for everybody, they saw exactly what was happening. "What're you talking about? We're fake girlfriend and boyfriend, silly" He chuckled, his face dropping whenever the props started to move suddenly, the screams of the fans getting louder, panicking knowing neither of you were on your marks, Seung Hyun quickly wrapped his arms around your waist dipping you down as he pressed his lips to your cheek, holding you there until the music started.

You'd all be lying if you said this performance wasn't different than the others, there was something between you and Seung Hyun and everybody could see it, you tried to keep your feelings shoved down as you preformed, as soon as your show ended you were quick to go to your hotel room, locking yourself in not wanting to do anything other than sleep and mentally kick yourself for being so hopeful and stupid.

--

You like? Also per requests, Up next on the posting schedule is part four of in my club! And then possibly part two of There all along! So keep your eyes peeled for those! <3 Excited to hear from you lovelies!

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

@lilou-0401

[g1rld1ary]

lifeguard!james potter x reader 6

prev

wc: 1785

cw: r thirsting over james, someone almost drowns (but doesn't)

me: i have a bunch of lockwood requests in the drafts and yet this is all I've been able to write lately... if anyone has any lifeguard!james requests pleaseeee send them over bc he is my favourite boy <3 ALSO just realised the last part was posted in AUGUST!! no wonder i wrote this so fast i have been missing him!!!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

it was stupidly hot. you weren’t usually one to complain about warm weather given england got so little, but the whole summer had been one big heatwave and it was becoming a little overwhelming. english girls weren’t made for the heat!

still, at least you had the public pool to make up for the sweltering sun, and that same underfunded public pool brought you james, so maybe everything did happen for a reason.

that brought you to the present moment, lounging on a sun chair, feeling the tan appear on your skin. lily was next to you flicking through a magazine you’d brought her from the supermarket and you were enjoying the sight of james in all his glory on duty.

you really needed to ask yourself why you could stare at him for hours doing, quite literally, nothing. you’d already seen him up in his chair plenty of times, observing the water below him, flirting with you, passing the time. and yet every time he was on shift you noticed something new. a new muscle that tantalised you, a new spot of highlight that glittered under the sun. james was simultaneously an enigma you chipped away at every day and an open book you didn’t need to; it was maddening.

you were torn from your daydreams by the lifeguard whistle piercing the air. you propped yourself up with a start, deadly curious as to what could have happened. in all your years coming to the same pool, you didn’t think you’d ever heard the whistle sound so aggressively. the most dangerous thing that had ever happened there was a few kids running around when the sign on the gate specifically prohibited it.

and yet, there was a little girl, flailing around because one of her armband floaties had popped and she was simultaneously being dragged under while one arm was stuck on the surface. you and lily watched on in horror as she struggled, hand over your mouths and reading material long forgotten.

luckily, james was onto it. in one surprisingly graceful dive, he was in the water, shooting across the pool to where the girl was struggling, all the witnesses frozen in shock or fear. he was there in an instant, scooping the girl up and bringing her to the side of the pool, hoisting her up to sit on the edge. when they were both on dry land, your surprise was doubled to see the girl was tiny, maybe five at the oldest.

james sat with her on the edge of the pool as she coughed and spluttered and spat out a bit of water, then walked her over to the tiny medical room on the edge of the facility. stillness and silence weighed over the pool for a moment before a few kids resumed their game of marco polo and life returned to normal.

“i know it’s awful that something could have happened to that girl, but now she’s safe am i wrong in saying that was super hot?” you asked lily and furrowed your brow when she laughed.

“you are so gone,” she shook her head with a smile, “but you’re not necessarily wrong.” in your defence, if you were looking strictly at james and not at the surrounding scenario, it was a pretty spectacular display. despite all his muscles, of which there were many, james was apparently light on his feet, making a dive even the olympians would respect, muscles shifting under his skin as his arms raised above his head. and then when he came up for oxygen, curls flying through the air as he shook the water off him and sparkling chlorine droplets adorned his skin. he truly looked godly; not of the same universe that everyone around you was created in.

plus, of course he was good with kids. as if that didn’t make your ovaries want to explode. james was so gentle with the little girl, rubbing her back as she got the water out of her lungs and holding her little hand as they plodded down to the medical room.

you went back to daydreaming under the sun fuelled by the new experiences you’d had, images of james and his muscles doing all sorts of nasty, delightful things. you were blissfully tanning until the squawking, rage-filled voice of an adult woman pierced through your ears up to your brain. had anyone seen her daughter? five years old, small, brown hair, pink swimsuit? you propped yourself up on your arms to watch the commotion, cringing silently as old hilda glowered, reluctantly explaining the situation.

it felt like the whole pool was silently waiting as james and the little girl emerged from inside the medical room. and while the girl waddled across to her mother like a puddle of sunshine, james was the grey cloud hovering over her.

you watched with keen interest as james and the girl’s mother engaged in a very heated discussion you couldn’t quite hear, all flailing arms and stern glares. you took advantage of the moment of his distraction, admiring the way his brow hardened as he got angry, something you’d never seen before. the glitter in his eyes was no longer mischief but rage, and his jaw clenched and unclenched like it was the only thing keeping him from yelling. maybe it was. while the whole situation was obviously very scary and tragic, your thighs were clenched for dear life as you watched the veins in his arms appear while his fists clenched. you were not going to tell lily what you were imagining about james’ hands but you were sure she could already tell.

the spat ended with the woman turning on her heel and dragging her daughter out of the facility as james stared them down, anger still radiating off of him. he stood aimlessly for a few moments and you got the impression he didn’t know what to do with all the angry energy he’d amassed. and while you had a couple of ideas, you figured hilda probably wouldn’t appreciate it on the ancient pool tiles. groaning softly, you swung yourself up and out of the plastic sun lounger, treading lightly towards him.

“hey there, baywatch. think it’s time for your lunch break yet?” james broke from his reverie to look at you, frustration still evident on his features.

“that was so — she was so —” he paused for a moment to self-soothe, “yeah, i think a break is a good idea.”

“okay,” you laughed a little, taking james’ cap off his head and putting it on your own, “you go sit with lily for a bit and i’ll be right back.” with that you took off out of the pool grounds, legging it to the supermarket down the street. nothing worth having was ever cold at the dismal pool bar.

you returned only a few minutes later with drinks in hand, approaching lily and james from behind. you could tell from their impassioned gestures they were still rehashing the earlier situation.

“an angel returns,” you announced in a sing-song voice, setting your hands on james’ shoulders. he looked up at you, visibly relaxing as he smiled. you couldn’t help but return it.

lily got the first choice of the three different beverages you’d chosen as you knew james would never complain. she took the iced tea while james chose a coca cola, leaving you with the lemonade. james reached forward to take the can as you came to sit on the edge of his lounger but you wagged your finger, cracking the top open and taking a sip.

“favour tax,” you explained, handing the drink over with a grin. james stumbled over his words as he took it, settling on just taking a sip to avoid having to come up with something witty. you hoped the red in his cheeks wasn’t just sunburn.

“so do you wanna keep talking it out or shall we distract you with our theatrics?” lily asked, clipping her hair up and off the back of her neck. james thought for a moment, head tilted to the side like a puppy.

“entertain me,” he commanded in good humour, “if i keep talking about it i’ll just stay angry all day, and who’d waste a day like that when accompanied by two beautiful ladies?” you and lily both rolled your eyes at his playful flirting, carrying on a conversation you’d started earlier in the day about neighbourhood gossip.

james’ shift ended just before sunset, when orange was just beginning to paint the sky. lily had left a half-hour earlier on household dinner duty, but you had nothing to do and knew james would be off soon enough.

you wandered down the town’s streets together, only half dressed from a day at the pool and admiring the multicoloured sunset.

“y’know everyone’ll really love you now, if they didn’t already,” you said, kicking a rock unfortunate enough to cross paths with you, “i mean, saving a little girl from drowning? that’s overachieving, even for you.” you studied james’ reaction, making sure it wasn’t too soon and you weren’t crossing lines. james, ever the ray of sunshine, just laughed heartily.

“what can i say? new kid in town has to make a good impression, especially when there are always such pretty girls hanging around to watch me on duty.”

“and who would those pretty girls be?” you asked with faux-innocence, looking up at james through your eyelashes. he looked at you as if to say you know, but then retorted anyway.

“hilda and edith are quite the silver foxes, don’t you think?”

“sure!” you laughed, “if you like wrinkly boobs down to your hips.”

“as opposed to yours!” james retaliated instantly, the widening of his eyes making it abundantly clear that he had not thought it through, but you weren’t letting him go that easily.

“which are…” you prompted, satisfied when james’ hazel eyes began flicking between your eyes and your bikini-clad chest, almost as if he couldn’t control it.

“which are… great! good? perfect? please let me stop talking,” he begged, only serving to make you giggle.

“come on, baywatch, let’s get you home. you’ve had a big day.”

“you know, sometimes i think you might even have a heart in there somewhere, pretty girl.” james slung an arm around your shoulder and you faltered under his weight, the two of you stumbling home in a mass of limbs and laughter.

would just like to clarify that there is nothing wrong with wrinkly boobs down to ur hips! all boobs r good boobs <3

[kinardsevan]

this love will take my everything

(aka the follow-up to maybe, someday, love) part 1 cw: hospitalization, helicopter crash, related injuries; word count: 2069 (not cross-posted to ao3...yet)

“Can I go up with you?” 

Tommy turns in his spot just outside his helicopter, and his eyes fall on that beautiful man. Recent time has been awful in his absence, and even though everything inside of him is telling him he should say no—that they’d gone their separate ways on purpose—the other half of him aches to be closer. 

“How’d you find me here,” he asks before turning back toward the inside of the helicopter, continuing to work through his pre-flight checklist. 

“Had a hunch,” Evan answers, his voice drawing closer with footsteps that suggest he’s crossing the space between them. “Knew you wouldn’t be at work, and your truck wasn’t in your driveway. No lights on. Besides…” He pauses, his voice much closer now, and standing close enough that Tommy can feel his body heat emanating. “Anytime you have a bad shift, you fly.” 

Tommy gulps as he finishes zipping up the first aid bag after checking and rechecking it’s contents. He leans out of the cockpit and Evan is standing so close that he immediately smells mahogany and teakwood with a lingering undercurrent of lavender. It stirs something in his chest and gut simultaneously; the scent that so easily drove him insane anytime he got near the other man, nevermind when they were actually in the shower together. 

This close together, he can see the individual lines of those watermelon-pink lips, the curve of the port wine stain below his eyebrow, and how it’s just the slightest bit darker than its counterpart above the eyebrow. He swallows again as he tugs the bag off the seat and Evan steps aside, allowing him access to the open storage compartment. Tommy shoves he bag in and puts the lid down, locking it in. 

“What’re you doing here, Buck,” he asks, his voice low, weary. He doesn’t have the energy for banter or excuses right now. Because E- Buck is right. He always flies after a bad shift, and the one he’d come off of earlier in the day seemed to be one of those where nothing could go right. Every call he went up for seemed to end in tragedy, and there were too many young people not having good outcomes for his heart to take when it was already so tough to face a world where Evan Buckley wasn’t in his bed at the end of the night. 

“I want to talk to you,” Evan tells him. He gestures towards the helicopter. “Which is why I asked if I could go up with you. Maybe I can finally cash in on those flying lessons.” 

A silent, humorless laugh slips out of Tommy’s mouth before he can stop it. There are so many things they seemed to have talked about doing before the break-up, that he never got around to doing. 

“Look, Buck-..” 

“First and foremost would be that you never call me that again,” Evan states, pointing an index finger at Tommy. “It just feels dirty.” 

Tommy lets out a sigh, staring at him for a long moment. Everything in him is telling him to say no. Being that close to the one person he’s single-handledly sure he’s never loved anyone more than in a cramped space where neither of them can escape feels like a terrible idea; it feels like the simplest way to destroy every ounce of resolve he has to maintain space and let the other man figure things out, move on long enough to realize that Tommy isn’t his endgame. 

And yet. 

He’s weak, and just a man, and…

“Okay.” 

Evan grins at him, and then he’s rushing around the helicopter to the passenger side, climbing into the seat and buckling in, pulling on the headset. Tommy moves slower, but he’s in the other seat fairly quickly still, making his final pre-flight checks before he starts the engine. 

“This is pilot Kinard in Robinson four zero six two four asking for checking clearance for take-off,” he calls out over the line. 

“Good afternoon, pilot. Can you please relay your coordinates? Tower over.” 

Tommy reads them back, and a moment later, they’ve cleared him. He starts to lift the chopper into the air, and then checks in a few times as they gain altitude before switching the line over so it’s just him and Evan in communication inside the helicopter. Plus, for all the things that could be said about the fact that he shouldn’t have let the other man into the chopper with him, he can’t exactly complain. Evan has always understood when he just needs time to be in the air; time to get out of his head. 

He doesn’t have a destination in mind as they move further into airspace. He keeps them at an even altitude, flying further inland over Los Angeles. Roughly twenty minutes pass before Evan finally speaks. 

“So I think you made a mistake,” Evan comments. “Actually, I think you’re an idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.” 

Tommy shoots a glance in his direction, raising his eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?” 

“Yeah,” Evan replies through the headset. “You ended things prematurely. A-and don’t get me wrong, I jumped the gun as I’m prone to do. But you got one taste of a real future with me and bolted like the concept of that future was absolutely impossible.” 

“Evan-..” 

“No, let me finish,” he states, turning more towards Tommy. The other man has no other option or recourse, given that he still has to focus on keeping them in the air. 

“As I was saying. You decided all of these things for the two of us without ever giving me a chance for input. You- you decided that we couldn’t have a future based on… on what? Past experiences with other people? Someone else’s statistical bullshit? What does any of that have to do with how I feel about you?” 

Tommy takes a deep, frustrated breath, glancing over at Evan again. 

“Look, you’re unsure of-..” 

“Okay, seriously? Stop,” Evan states, the lightness in his tone gone. Finally, Tommy thinks. The reality is sinking in. 

“I’m not a fucking child,” Evan growls at him. “Maybe I figured out I was bisexual a few months ago instead of years ago, but I know how it feels to fall in love with someone. A-and okay, maybe I should’ve considered my words more wisely that night, b-but the points were all still there.” 

“Really?” Tommy asks, looking over at him again, eyebrows raised. HIs tone is judgmental, challenging. “They were?” 

“Something else you have to complain about, about what I said,” Evan asks him in an accusatory tone. 

“Oh I don’t know, Evan. You asked me to move into your loft when I own my home,” Tommy tells him. “A house, with a two stall garage and three bedrooms. A car lift, and enough room to spar. Where was all of that going to go?” 

“S-so I jumped the gun!” Evan argues. “Sue me! I was excited, a-and-..” 

“And you were talking about my sexuality like I’m some kind of trailblazer for gay people,” Tommy counters. “You think I sound crazy for telling you that you’re still figuring things out when you were throwing moving in together, engagement and marriage at me ten seconds after telling me that our mutual ex was “transformative” for you.” He pauses for a second, as though the thought only occurs to him afterward. “Oh, at least until me.” 

“And I meant every damn word,” Evan tells him. “I didn’t tell you I wanted those things because I didn’t understand the concept of what I was asking, or because I need to go fuck other people to figure myself out, Tommy. I said the relationship was transformative because it was. A-Abby… Abby made me want to get my shit together and stop making reckless choices to sleep with anything that moved just to get some kind of validation.” 

Tommy’s expression softens just a little as he looks over at Evan, hears him explain his actions. Evan sinks back against the seat slightly, his own resolve folding under the honesty of everything he’s saying. 

“W-when I said until you, it didn’t have a damn thing to do with your gender or my sexuality,” he rasps. “It was because for the first time in my life, I realized that I didn’t want to wake up next to anyone else for the rest of my life. I didn’t- I didn’t-..” 

“You said you admired me,” Tommy tells him, although his tone is much softer. 

Evan nods, inhaling a shaky breath. “You’re right. I did; which is true, by the way. B-but, also be-because historically, saying I love you has not worked out for me very well,” he rasps. Tommy inhales a sharp breath, letting it out in stunted exhales. 

“And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t understand what it means to be in love with someone,” Evan rasps, his voice full of gravel and insistent as his eyelids burn red and brim with tears. “I picked you, and maybe- maybe I didn’t spell it out the right way. B-but the bones of it were there.” 

Tommy gulps, nods at Evan’s statement. He’s not wrong, and there’s a lot to be said in response to it, but doing it in the air when his attention is split doesn’t exactly feel like the right option. He glances around them through the window. They’ve made it out of LA County and into the mountains. He needs to find a place to set them down, or circle back, but that’s going to take another half an hour that he doesn’t really want to wait on. 

“Look, there’s more I want to say on all of this, but I need to get us on the ground,” Tommy states, starting to turn the helicopter. He reaches across the dash, flips the channel back over so there’s communication with air traffic, and asks for an open space to set them down. When he doesn’t get a response back, he sends calls back through again, only to receive silence once more. 

“Something wrong,” Evan asks, trying to keep his concern from being too obvious. 

Tommy glances across the dash, pushing a few buttons for the comms, but nothing changes. He huffs, resolves to just get them closer to home, but that’s when all hell breaks loose. 

Suddenly, the dash lights up across the board, flashing in all different shades and blaring different noises. Evan and Tommy both shoot up straight in their seats. 

“W-what’s happening,” Evan stammers, panic high in his tone now. “Tommy?” 

Tommy waves a hand at him dismissively, trying to go down the troubleshooting checklist in his head. Evan turns in his seat, digging for the manual and finding it behind Tommy’s seat after a moment. He pulls it out and flips over to the troubleshooting list. 

“Rotor blades?” He asks, looking over at Tommy, who shakes his head in response. “Throttle? Battery master switch?” 

Tommy looks over at him, forcing a long breath out of his lungs in a desperate attempt to calm himself. 

“Evan, honey, please. I’m already down to Oil pressure.” 

Evan looks over at him and then back down at the list, realizing that Tommy is far beyond what he even needs him to read based on his own knowledge of the helicopter. 

“Fuck!” Tommy yells over the comms. Evan looks over at him, sees the worry seeping into Tommy’s expression. 

“What?” 

Tommy gulps and looks over at him. “We’re losing altitude.” 

“W-what can I- h-how-..” 

“We need comms,” Tommy says. “The backup-..”

Evan reaches for it in the space between them and turns it on, switching through the channels until he finds the one they usually use while on-shift. 

“T-this is off-duty firefighter Evan Buckley-..” 

“And Pilot Kinard,” Tommy adds. Evan holds out the radio towards him, keeping the button down, hoping they’re being heard on the open line. “We’re somewhere over the county line between Cucamonga Peak and San Bernadino National Forest. We’re losing altitude.” He glances down at the dash quickly and reads off the coordinates. “B-best I can guess is… total engine failure.” 

Voices come back over the line, cutting over one another and trying to ask more questions that neither of them has time to answer. Tommy keeps looking back and forth out of the window, trying to figure out the best option for landing, but neither is good. On his side, they have mountains, and on Evan’s, they have the forest. Both could kill them, whether through fire or just the injuries alone, and he doesn’t love either. 

“We’re under three thousand feet,” he states, his voice tight as he reaches his right hand across the center console and squeezes Evan’s hand tightly. His jaw is tight as he looks over at him, the worry and panic clear in his eyes. “I w-…this isn’t-…” He lifts his hand to the back of Evan’s head, squeezing the back of his neck. “I love you too, Evan.” 

He lets go of him just as quickly and has both hands back on the cyclic, suddenly jerking the helicopter to one side. 

Seconds later, they’re on the ground. 

. . . 

Sal yawns as he walks towards Bobby, some ten feet away from where he’s just come out Tommy’s room. He’s hardly a fan of the older man, even after all the time that has passed, but somehow they’ve found a way to work together when they’ve been forced to work the same scenes. 

“Any change on the kid,” he asks, looking into the room. Inside the room, Eddie and Maddie are both at his bedside, talking quietly from what he can tell. 

Bobby shakes his head, looking across the small circular area toward Tommy’s room where Chimney has gone to take his turn. “What about Tommy?” 

Sal shrugs. “Still struggling to come off sedation. But he’s not seizing, so…” 

Bobby nods, turning and looking back into Buck’s room. Neither man made it out in one piece, but current circumstances certainly seem to be pointing more toward the younger man faring worse. From the intracranial pressure and brain bleeds they’ve been watching like a hawk, to the broken hip, all the internal bleeding, not to mention the myriad of stitches coating his body from head to toe. 

“They said they found them on the forest floor,” Bobby comments. “That it was a miracle neither one of them ended up impaled by tree branches.” 

Sal nods. He glances over at Bobby. “You think they would’ve survived if he’d taken the mountainside?” 

“I mean I’m no pilot,” Bobby responds, his voice tight. “But.” 

Across the room, the sound monitors starting to race emits, and several nurses shoot out of their chairs at the station, rushing into a room they quickly realize is Tommy’s. They both exchange a look and then rush across the semi-circle layout, only to bump into Chimney as he’s pushed from the room. 

“What happened,” Sal practically growls. 

Chimney only shakes his head as he looks at the taller man. 

“I was just talking to him,” he comments. “A- he-…” 

They all stand there, flooded with anxiety, trying to make out what’s happening around the nurses and doctors inside the room, until finally, the monitors go quiet due to someone turning the sound off. Slowly then, they start to dissipate, and the three of them watch with trepidation, until finally enough of them are out of the way or have left the room, and they can see Tommy. 

The ventilator is gone, replaced by an oxygen mask, and his eyes are open. 

“He’s awake.” 

[yelenasdiary]

this might be weirdly specific but would you be able to write a fic where Kate Bishop is (fem)reader's best friend and she comforts reader after a breakup and it leads to romance? Could be fluff or smut, idrc

Take Your Time

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader (Platonic to Romance)

Summary: After dealing with a breakup, your best friend is here to help you get over you ex anyway she can.

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.4K

AC: I missed writing for Kate so much!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy x

It had been weeks since you and your ex-girlfriend broke up, but the heartache still lingered. You took some time for yourself trying to enjoy your hobbies once again, trying to not let the little things remind you of a love you once had. It wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms, but it still didn’t ease the feeling of your heart being broken into a million tiny pieces. 

The night was young, and the city of New York was loud and vibrant with its night life. Even with the light rain that trickled over the city, that didn’t stop the city from becoming a city of magic on a Friday night. While everybody was making it clear they were glad it was Friday, chit chatter from the street floated its way into your apartment by the open window of your bedroom, you were lying on the sofa with another case of red, puffy eyes. 

The throw pillow had a damp spot from your afternoon tears as trashy romantic movies played on the television, you knew it wasn’t going to help you heal but something drove you to just spend the afternoon binge watching the classics. Your phone would light up every now and then only to be ignored, your eyes not even moving from the television to see the who was trying to contact you. 

Your afternoon of self-torture was cut short when your best friend, Kate, let herself into your apartment. “Alright, let’s turn this crap off” she said, reaching for the television's remote and turning the screen black. 

“Kate! I was watching that” you groaned, slowly forcing yourself to sit up. 

“I know but” she paused, dropping her backpack to your feet and taking a seat next to you, making herself comfortable, “I think you forget that having friends around you in a time like this helps. So, here I am and in that bag is plenty of snacks, mostly your favourite ones” she continued with a soft smile. 

You sighed lightly, defeated by your friends kindness, “I guess you’re right” you said before reaching for her backpack. “Of course I am, you know who I am, right?” Kate joked, making you laugh for the first time in what felt like a very long time. “So, you’ve had a break from the world and now you’ve locked yourself away in this apartment. It’s time to have some fun!” She added. 

“Honestly, I’m not really up for… um, fun right now” you replied, your eyes stinging with every blink. 

“Fine,” she said dramatically, “then we’ll just sit here until you realize how amazing you are and how ridiculously terrible your ex was” Kate teasingly smiled.

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, and Kate seized the opportunity as she nudged you with her elbow. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh more than once” she said proudly as you playfully rolled your eyes at your friend before opening up a bag of your favorite potato chips. “Okay, fine, you can stay but under one condition” you replied before munching on a few chips. 

“Go on?” Kate questioned. 

“We don’t talk about her, like ever” you muttered, your mouth still somewhat full. Kate let out a chuckle, “fine by me, I came over here to watch a bulk load of action and comedy movies, eat some pizza and tell you about this thing Clint did on a mission last week!” Your friend smirked as she reached for the television remote again. 

----

As the night went into the early hours of the morning, losing complete track of time as you watched movie after movie with your best friend. Your coffee table littered with rubbish of pizza boxes, empty soda cans and juice boxes, empty bowls of melted leftover sundaes, chop sticks along with the small take-out boxes from the Thai restaurant a few blocks over, it was truly a mess. 

You couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to even for a moment to forget just how much fun you always had with Kate. Each movie you guys watched; she’d have you laughing to the point of tears by her like banter with the different characters. With both your stomachs full, the night life of New York City slowly fades from the chit chatter of pedestrians on the street to loud truck horns and trains on the train line. 

Not only did the city start to calm down but so did your apartment. Tiredness would soon start to hit you, reminding you just how late in the night it was. Gently, you rested your head on Kate’s shoulder, “thank you for making my day” you said softly, your eyes focused on the movie playing on the television. Kate smiled softly to herself, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at your actions. 

“You’re welcome” she replied, “I know break ups suck but you can’t wallow in it forever” she added. 

“I know, I guess…I guess I just hated not knowing what to do. You always hear stories of people growing apart, but I never thought I would relate to that” you admitted, sighing heavily to yourself. 

“You deserve so much better” Kate spoke softly, “I mean, who breaks up with somebody over text? To me, that kinda says they didn’t care too much. You deserve somebody who loves you for you, who’s stomach gets all twisted and full of butterflies whenever you walk into the room, you deserve somebody who’s face feels warm when you la-“Kate stopped herself mid-sentence abruptly and quickly reached for her drink. Her sudden shift made you frown ever so slightly. 

“Kate?” You said calmly, “are you okay?” You asked. 

Kate turned to you and smiled softly, “I’m good, I guess I just missed hanging out with you” she replied, feeling her stomach turn on her. Her eyes quickly moved back to the television, leaving you to watch her become slightly nervous. 

Gently, you placed a hang on top of her knee, allowing yourself to sit up right again. “Kate, come on, what’s going on?” You asked her. She took a sip of her soda to give herself that short extra seconds to panic on the inside before she nervously swallowed the mouthful of soda and looking at you once again, this time struggling to keep eye contact. 

“Please don’t freak out, I know things at too soon and look at me go, good one Kate! About to mess things up!” She rolled her eyes at her own frustration, “I never really liked you being with her becau-“ she paused once again as she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but care and patience as you gave her the time she needed to gather her words. “because I think you’re incredible and they never deserved you in the first place….and I think if anybody is going to spoil you and love you for who you are….I want it to be me” she continued. Her eyes dropped once again; this time worried for any form of rejection. 

Carefully you cupped her face with one hand, wanting her to look at you. She looked at you like a lost puppy who’d thought they had done something wrong. Her eyes making you smile softly at her as you crushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you didn’t mess anything up Katie” you started, “I’ve always been in awe of you but in all honesty, I didn’t think you would ever look at me more than just a friend” you added, making Kate smile softly at you.

“Would it be awful of me to say that I’m so glad a broken heart pushed a confession out of me?” The archer asked nervously. Her words made you chuckle, “I’m starting to think of it more a of a bless of some kind. Maybe it this was exactly how things were supposed to go” you replied, your eyes sparkled from the glow from the television giving Kate another reason to admire your beauty without the worry of being caught. 

Kate took a deep breath, “so, what now?” She asked.

“We take our time, enjoy this new chapter... and see where it leads us,” you replied, “if that is something you’d be interest in of course” you quickly added, your own fear of rejection suddenly creeping in. Kate gently took a hold of your hand, removing it from her cheek “I’d like that, one moment at a time” she spoke softly. “Maybe next week I could take you out on an actual date?” Kate asked, feeling the warmth of your comfort embracing her as you gave her a soft nod, “it’s a date, Katie” you said before placing a kiss on her warm cheek.

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[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: A Stroke of Intimacy - One Shot

Author’s Note:

I’ve been seeing some set pictures pop up again, and it’s made me miss Hank, so here’s a piece I’ve had sitting in drafts for a while.

Word Count: 5,304

Masterlist

The attic at my mum’s house smelled like old wood and dust, with just the faintest hint of lavender from the sachets she insisted on hiding in every corner. It had been years since I’d been up here, but it looked almost exactly the same—a time capsule of mismatched furniture, faded holiday decorations, and boxes full of forgotten treasures that Mum had always sworn she’d sort through “one day.” That day had apparently come.

Mum had roped us in to help her with a long-overdue clear-out, claiming she’d finally reached her limit with the clutter. “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is anymore,” she’d said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess. “It’s time to let go.” Whether or not that would actually happen remained to be seen, but Hank, of course, had jumped at the chance to help.

Now, a couple of hours in, I was starting to think he regretted it. From my spot on the landing, I could hear him shuffling around up there, the occasional curse muffled by the beams as he ducked and dodged low-hanging obstacles.

“You alright up there?” I called, grinning to myself.

“Never better,” came his reply, tinged with sarcasm. “Your mum’s got enough Christmas decorations to start a department store, by the way.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Tell me something I don’t know. Did you find the box labelled ‘mystery trinkets’? That’s her favourite.”

There was a pause, followed by a muffled groan of exertion. “If by ‘mystery trinkets’ you mean twenty different snow globes, then yes. Got it covered.”

Mum appeared at the bottom of the stairs just then, holding two mugs of coffee. “Is he still alive up there?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye.

“Barely,” I replied, loud enough for Hank to hear. His exaggerated sigh echoed down to us, making us both laugh.

It had been Hank’s idea to turn this into a full-day event, complete with lunch breaks and frequent coffee runs. “Might as well make it fun,” he’d said with that easy smile of his, already rolling up his sleeves before Mum could even ask for help. It was one of the things I loved most about him—the way he made everything feel lighter, even tedious chores like this.

“I’m almost done!” Hank called down, his voice slightly breathless. A second later, there was the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floorboards, followed by an impressive thud.

“Hank?” I called again, my tone edging toward concern.

“Fine!” he shouted back. “Nothing broken. Except maybe my pride.”

Mum chuckled, shaking her head as she handed me one of the mugs. “He’s a keeper,” she said with a knowing smile before heading back to the kitchen.

By the time Hank finally emerged, hauling the last box down to the landing, he looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a particularly vengeful spider. Cobwebs clung to his hair and shirt, and there was a faint smudge of dust on his cheek. Despite the state of him, his grin was full of smug satisfaction, like he’d just conquered some great feat.

“Last one,” he announced, dropping the box with a dramatic flourish. He wiped his hands on his jeans, glancing at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re welcome.”

I bit back a laugh, stepping closer to brush a stray cobweb from his shoulder. “You look like you just survived a horror movie.”

He swiped a hand through his hair, only managing to make it worse. “Pretty sure your attic’s haunted. I’m half convinced I heard something whispering ‘leave while you still can.’”

“You’re fine, drama queen,” I teased, plucking another cobweb from his shirt before reaching up to brush the smudge of dust from his cheek. “It was probably the lavender sachets.”

His expression softened, and for just a moment, he leaned into my touch, his cheek pressing lightly against my hand. The simple act sent a pang of warmth through me, but before I could dwell on it, he straightened, flashing me a lopsided grin. “Don’t know what you’d do without me.”

“Get the boxes down myself?” I quipped, earning a mock glare.

As I glanced down, my attention caught on the label of the box he’d carried down—my name, scrawled in my teenage handwriting. “Hang on,” I said, crouching beside it. “This one’s mine.”

Hank followed me down, crouching behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his curiosity palpable as he peered over. “What’s in it?”

I shrugged, peeling back the tape. The smell of old paper and charcoal wafted up as I opened the flaps, revealing a stack of sketchbooks, some loose papers, and a few half-empty tins of pencils. “Looks like my old art stuff.”

“You used to draw?” he asked, his voice soft with interest.

I nodded, flipping through one of the sketchbooks. “Yeah, all the time. I took art class in school—actually thought about pursuing it for a while before vet school won out.”

He kissed my shoulder, his lips warm and soft against my skin. “Why’d you stop?”

I hesitated, skimming through the pages. “Life, I guess. Vet school took up all my time, and then… I don’t know. I just kind of fell out of the habit.”

Hank didn’t say anything, just hummed thoughtfully, his breath brushing against my neck as he studied the page I’d turned to. It was an old drawing of a bowl of fruit, complete with the wonky shading I’d never quite mastered. I laughed softly at the memory, tracing a finger over the edge of the paper.

“That one’s not bad,” he offered, his chin nudging my shoulder.

“Not bad,” I echoed with a smirk. “Wait till you see the next one.”

I turned another page, showing him a rough sketch of a model seated on a stool, her pose casual but elegant. “We did a lot of life drawing back then.”

“Life drawing?” he repeated, his brow arching with interest. “Like people?”

“Yeah. We had a different model every week. It was… fun. Relaxing, in a way.”

Hank hummed again, his eyes lingering on the sketch. “You’re really good.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I was okay. It’s been years, though.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still be good.” He pressed another soft kiss to my shoulder, his lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You ever think about picking it up again?”

I shrugged, closing the sketchbook. “Maybe. Life’s been busy.”

Hank didn’t say anything else, just nodded thoughtfully, his arms giving my waist a gentle squeeze before he stood. I could see the gears turning in his head, but at the time, I didn’t think much of it.

A week later, I came home to find the apartment eerily quiet.

“Hank?” I called, stepping into the living room and setting my bag down on the sofa. My voice echoed slightly, the usual hum of music or clatter from the kitchen conspicuously absent. “You here?”

“In the bedroom!” His voice drifted down the hall, warm and inviting, with a trace of something that made me pause. Curiosity piqued, I slipped off my shoes and followed the sound, my steps slowing as I approached the door.

When I opened it, I stopped in my tracks.

The space had been transformed. The bed had been pushed to one side, replaced by a single stool set in the centre of the room. A soft, golden glow came from the table lamp in the corner, bathing the space in warmth, the light catching on a makeshift easel positioned at the perfect angle to the stool. Beside it was a neat stack of fresh paper and an array of pencils and charcoal sticks, all arranged with careful precision.

And then there was Hank, standing by the stool in nothing but a pair of black boxers, his arms crossed over his chest, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He looked like something out of a magazine, the sharp lines of his body softened by the warm light, his posture both casual and confident. My breath caught as I took it all in.

“What… what is all this?” I asked, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind me, the words tumbling out in a mix of awe and disbelief.

He shrugged, the grin widening just a bit. “Thought I’d surprise you. You said you liked life drawing, and I figured… well, I could use a bit of sitting still. Not something I’m particularly good at.”

I blinked, my heart swelling with affection. He wasn’t joking—he’d really gone through all this trouble just to recreate something I’d casually mentioned in passing. My throat tightened as I struggled to find the words. “Hank…”

“It’s no big deal,” he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “Just thought it might be fun. You’ve been working so hard lately, and… well, you deserve a break.”

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, but I managed a small, wobbly smile. “This isn’t just ‘no big deal,’ Hank. This is… really thoughtful. Thank you.”

His grin softened, and he gave a little shrug, suddenly almost shy. “So… you up for it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I crossed the room to run my fingers over the pencils. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

“Yeah, but it’s only fair,” he said, his tone teasing but genuine. “You’ve always got my back. I just wanted to do something for you.”

The warmth in his words settled over me, filling the space between us with something soft and intimate. I reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked up a sheet of paper and placed it on the easel. “Alright,” I said, my voice steadying. “Let’s do this.”

Hank’s grin returned, this time with a playful edge. He stepped over to the stool, dropping onto it with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, coach. How do you want me?”

“Comfortable,” I said, smirking as I selected a pencil. “But… maybe sit a little straighter. Hands on your knees.”

“Bossy,” he muttered, adjusting himself with mock reluctance. Finally, he settled, his posture relaxed but composed, and the sight of him made my breath hitch. The light from the lamp painted soft shadows over his shoulders and chest, highlighting the lean definition of his muscles. There was something about the way he sat there, completely at ease under my gaze.

“Like this?” he asked, his brow arching in a way that made my heart flutter.

“Perfect,” I murmured, swallowing hard as I brought the pencil to the page. My hand trembled slightly, the weight of the moment pressing on me, but before I could make a single mark, Hank spoke again.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.”

The laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it, loud and sudden, and I had to put the pencil down for a second, wiping tears from my eyes. “Oh my God, no talking.”

He winked, leaning back slightly. “Gotta keep it fun.”

Still smiling, I picked up the pencil again, letting the familiar rhythm of sketching take over. At first, it felt awkward, my strokes hesitant, my mind too caught up in the fact that I was sketching him. But as the lines began to take shape, the old familiarity returned, the movements soothing and exhilarating all at once.

Hank stayed still, his eyes soft and steady as they followed my every movement. The quiet stretched between us, comfortable and filled with the sound of pencil on paper. Every now and then, I’d glance up, my gaze lingering on the curve of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks, the way the light played over his collarbone.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured after a while, his voice breaking the spell.

“Hmm?” I glanced at him, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

“Drawing. You’ve got this… focus.” His lips curved into a faint smile. “It’s kind of hot.”

I laughed, shaking my head as heat crept up my neck. “You’re supposed to be still.”

But the longer I worked, the harder it became to focus. The lines blurred as my mind wandered, and I found myself watching him more than the page. There was something intoxicating about the way he sat there, so open and vulnerable, he looked so effortlessly beautiful it made my chest ache.

I set the pencil down and stepped around the easel, my feet carrying me to him without a second thought.

Hank’s eyes met mine, a spark of curiosity lighting up his gaze as I stopped in front of him, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Finished already?”

“Not quite,” I said softly, reaching out to brush my fingers along the curve of his shoulder. His skin was warm, his muscles taut beneath my touch, and the way he leaned into it made my breath catch.

“You’re supposed to be drawing me,” he murmured, but his voice lacked any real conviction.

“I think I’m done with that for now.”

I closed the distance between us, my hands finding their way to his jaw as I tilted his face up to meet mine. His breath hitched, and then his hands were on me, sliding around my waist, pulling me into his lap in one fluid motion. The warmth of his skin seeped through my clothes as our bodies pressed together, and I couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped my lips.

His gaze flickered to my mouth before meeting my eyes again, I leaned in, my lips finding his in a kiss that was soft and tentative, a gentle exploration, slow and full of promise.

Hank’s lips parted under mine, the soft brush of his tongue coaxing me further, drawing me into the warmth of him. My hands slid up from his jaw to thread through his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as I tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His grip on my waist tightened, anchoring me against him, the heat of his bare skin beneath my palms sending a shiver down my spine.

He kissed me like he had all the time in the world—slow, deliberate, his lips and tongue exploring mine with a precision that made me forget everything else. The makeshift studio, the forgotten sketch on the easel—it all faded away, leaving only the quiet, electric intimacy between us.

I shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his hands as they slid lower, settling just above the curve of my hips. His thumbs brushed against the hem of my shirt, teasing the skin there, and I felt his breath hitch as I broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Hank,” I murmured, my voice catching as his hands moved, slipping beneath the fabric to rest fully against my skin. There was something about the way he touched me—like he couldn’t bear to be separated by even a thin layer of clothing—that made my heart ache.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then another to the line of my jaw. His lips trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot just beneath my ear, and I felt myself melt, my fingers tightening in his hair as a soft sigh escaped me.

“Every time,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and rough. “Every time, you undo me.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, my chest tightening with the overwhelming need to show him just how much he meant to me. My fingers slipped from his hair to cradle his face, gently guiding him to look at me. His eyes searched mine, softening as they held my gaze.

“Do you even realise what you do to me?” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. My thumb brushed over his cheek, tracing the faint stubble there. “It’s not just the way you touch me or kiss me—it’s everything. The way you care, the way you make me feel seen, the way you make me laugh when I need it most.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as though my words caught him off guard, but the corner of his mouth lifted in that lopsided smile I loved so much. “You know that goes both ways, right?” he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something vulnerable. “You’ve changed everything for me, Y/N. You make me feel… whole. In a way I didn’t even know I was missing.”

Hank’s lips curved into a soft smile, his blue eyes holding mine as his hand brushed lightly over my back. “You know, I still think about that night you walked into Paul’s,” he said, his voice quieter now, reflective.

I tilted my head, my fingers idly tracing a line along his collarbone. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” he replied, his tone gentle but insistent. “It’s not every night someone like you walks into a place like that. You… stood out.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t feel like I stood out. I felt completely out of place. I wasn’t even sure why I went in. I just…” I hesitated, the memory of that night still vivid. “I couldn’t face another night of being alone. I needed to do something different.”

His hand stilled against my back, and I glanced up to find him watching me, his gaze soft and unguarded. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad you did. That night… it felt different the second you walked in.”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Different, huh? What, you don’t get random women walking into your bar all the time, asking you to surprise them with a drink?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not like you.” His voice dropped slightly, taking on a more serious note. “You weren’t there to impress anyone. You didn’t try to be something you weren’t. You just… were. And I don’t know, it caught me off guard. In the best way.”

I felt my cheeks flush, the sincerity in his words making my chest ache. “I remember seeing you as soon as I walked in. You were leaning against the bar, looking like you owned the place.”

His grin widened. “What can I say? It’s my natural state.”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed softly. “You looked so at ease, like you belonged there. And then you caught me looking, and… I don’t know. It felt like you could see right through me.”

“That’s because I could,” he said simply, his hand sliding up to cup my face. “You walked in looking like you’d rather be anywhere else but there. But at the same time, you stayed. You didn’t turn around. You sat down, and you let me surprise you.”

I smiled, leaning into his touch. “It was a good drink.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “It was an Old Fashioned, not exactly revolutionary.”

“Yeah, but it was exactly what I needed,” I said, my voice softening. “And so were you.”

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the steady hum of the city beyond the window. Hank’s thumb brushed over my cheek, his gaze searching mine. “You know,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful, “sometimes it feels like… fate.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Fate?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. “I mean, think about it. You could’ve walked past Paul’s that night. You almost did. But you didn’t. You came in. And I just happened to be there. It feels like… like we were supposed to meet.”

I blinked, his words settling over me like a warm blanket. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic,” he said with a shrug, though his eyes betrayed the depth of his belief.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You might be right. Maybe it was fate. Maybe I was meant to walk into that bar, and you were meant to be there, leaning against the counter, looking at me like you already knew me.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was slow and full of unspoken emotion. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, his hands steady against my back. “Whatever it was, I’m glad it brought you to me.”

“Me too,” I whispered, my heart swelling in my chest.

I smiled, brushing my fingers along the curve of his jaw, my heart aching with how much I loved him. “It’s funny,” I said softly. “Sometimes I think I’m the one who’s got it all figured out. Then you go and do something like this—set up an easel in the middle of our bedroom just because I mentioned I used to draw. You always know exactly what I need, even when I don’t.”

Hank’s hands tightened on my waist, his grip grounding me as his gaze held mine. “It’s not hard,” he said simply, his tone filled with quiet sincerity. “Loving you? It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

The way he said it—not as a grand declaration but as an unshakable truth—made my chest tighten, my throat burning with the weight of my emotions. I kissed him, my lips brushing over his in a soft, lingering caress. His hands moved, sliding up my back as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss until I was completely lost in him.

I broke away just enough to rest my forehead against his, my fingers tracing light patterns along the back of his neck. “I don’t say it enough,” I murmured. “But I hope you know how much I love you.”

The corners of his mouth curved into a soft smile, and he brushed his lips over mine again, the kiss tender and unhurried. “You show me every day,” he replied, his voice steady and full of quiet conviction. “And I’ll never stop showing you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I let out a shaky laugh, resting my hands on his shoulders as I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Hank let out a quiet chuckle, his hands moving to cradle my face. “Funny,” he said, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing since the moment I met you.”

I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I felt for him into it, and his response was immediate, his arms wrapping around me like he couldn’t bear to let me go. The kiss deepened, his lips and tongue coaxing me into a slow, deliberate rhythm that made the world fade away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—just full of quiet, unspoken promises, every touch and caress saying what words never could.

And in that moment, with his hands steadying me, his warmth grounding me, and his love surrounding me, I knew with absolute certainty that he was it for me, just as I was for him.

Hank’s hands slid up my sides, his thumbs brushing over my ribs before they settled on the buttons of my shirt. His gaze met mine, quiet and intent, as if asking for permission without words. I gave a small nod, my breath catching as his fingers deftly undid the first button, then the next, his movements slow and deliberate.

He leaned forward as he worked, his lips pressing soft kisses to my skin with each button he freed. The hollow of my throat, the curve between my ribs—his mouth left a trail of warmth that sent shivers cascading through me. By the time he reached the last button, my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

The shirt slipped from my shoulders, pooling behind me, but Hank didn’t rush. His hands came to rest at my waist, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin there as his lips found the swell of my chest. He kissed me slowly, unhurried, his mouth lingering as though he wanted to savour every inch of me.

“Stand for me,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with need.

I did as he asked, my knees trembling slightly as I rose to my feet. Hank followed the movement with his hands, sliding them down to the waistband of my trousers. He knelt in front of me, his fingers hooking into the fabric as he began to ease them down. His lips brushed along my hip as he worked, his touch sending sparks dancing over my skin.

When the trousers pooled at my feet, he held onto my hands lightly for balance as I stepped out of them. His hands lingered, steadying me before trailing back up my legs. His lips followed, brushing kisses along the bare skin of my thighs, his gaze never leaving mine.

Once I was free of the last layer of clothing, Hank rose to his feet, his hands finding their place on my hips again. The heat of his skin against mine sent a rush of warmth through me, and when his mouth captured mine, it was slow and deliberate, his lips moving against mine with the kind of unspoken devotion that made my chest ache.

We didn’t speak as we shed the final barriers between us. My hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, my fingers trembling slightly as I pushed them down. He stepped out of them easily, his hands steady on my waist as though he could sense my nerves and wanted to ground me.

Together, we made our way to the bed, the world narrowing to just the two of us. Hank lay me back against the sheets, his body following mine as he settled over me. His hands moved with a tenderness that felt all-encompassing, tracing the curve of my waist, the line of my thigh, as though committing every part of me to memory.

His lips found mine again, their movements slow and deliberate, a quiet exploration that deepened with each passing second. He kissed me as though we had all the time in the world, his touch reverent, his body pressing into mine with a warmth that left me breathless.

When he finally aligned himself, the tip of him pressing at my entrance, he paused, his eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver through me. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed inside, the stretch of him filling me completely, stealing the air from my lungs. A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, his jaw tightening as he stilled, letting me adjust, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.

The warmth of his breath fanned over my lips as he exhaled shakily, his hands tightening on my hips as if grounding himself. His voice was low and rough when he finally spoke, the words barely audible. “Perfect,” he murmured, his tone filled with reverence.

He began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, every thrust deliberate and precise, the pressure of his body against mine igniting a fire that spread through every nerve. My fingers found their way to his back, tracing the hard planes of muscle as they flexed beneath my touch. His movements were unhurried, each one coaxing a soft sound from deep in my throat, a sound that only seemed to spur him on.

I gasped softly as his lips found the curve of my shoulder, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed his way up my neck. His hips pressed forward again, a little more insistent, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped me, my head tipping back to give him more access.

His lips traveled down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, pausing to suck gently at the sensitive skin there. Each touch of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I could feel the way his breath caught against my skin whenever I moved beneath him. My fingers dug into the broad expanse of his shoulders, holding onto him as the slow, steady rhythm of his hips began to build.

“God,” he groaned, his voice low and gravelly, the sound making my stomach tighten. His hands shifted, one sliding up to cup the side of my neck, his thumb brushing over my jaw as he tilted my face toward his. His other hand gripped my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist, anchoring me closer as he moved. The sounds he made—soft groans and low, broken murmurs—wrapped around me, adding to the symphony of the moment: the creak of the bed, the rustle of sheets, the whispered breaths that passed between us.

I couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping me—the soft cries, the whispered breaths of his name. His hips pressed deeper, the angle sending a rush of sensation through me that made my toes curl. His mouth captured mine in a kiss that was all-consuming, his tongue sliding against mine with a deliberate slowness that made my entire body tremble. The air between us was thick with heat, each shared breath feeding the fire that burned between us.

His pace quickened slightly, his movements growing more insistent, the tension building with every roll of his hips. My body arched into his, chasing the friction, the heat, the undeniable connection that bound us. His groans grew louder, mingling with the broken whimpers that spilled from my lips, the sound of us filling the room, raw and unfiltered.

When we finally reached the peak together, it was like the world stopped for a moment. His body tensed, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he buried himself deep, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against me. My own release followed, a wave of heat and light that left me gasping, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as my body trembled beneath his.

He stayed there, his weight a comforting pressure against me, as we both caught our breath, our bodies still entwined. The room was quiet save for the sound of our breathing, the stillness wrapping around us like a cocoon, the steady beat of our hearts slowly evening out as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. His hand brushed along my side, his thumb tracing idle patterns over my skin, grounding me in the warmth of him.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his lips curving into a soft, almost shy smile. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I love you sweetheart,” he murmured, the words carrying the same quiet sincerity as every touch and kiss that had come before.

I smiled, my hand sliding up to cup his face as I leaned in to kiss him again, slow and tender. “I love you too,” I whispered against his lips, the words a quiet promise, an anchor in the aftermath of the moment we’d just shared.

“Can we stay like this?” he murmured, his voice hushed and filled with quiet wonder.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around him, holding him close as we sank into the stillness together. My fingers traced light patterns along his back, a quiet rhythm that mirrored the way we moved moments before. The world outside faded into nothingness, and I found myself wishing I could capture this feeling somehow—every curve, every line, every breath—like a sketch I’d never forget.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 3: Focus on Us

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: "you're important"

Welcome to chapter 3 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀��📸

It was late, and my tiny dorm desk was cluttered with camera equipment, SD cards, and a cup of lukewarm coffee I’d forgotten to drink. The incident in the gym with Paige lingered in my mind as I sat editing footage for my final project. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I debated whether to open the file labeled “Gym Footage – Paige.”

Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked play.

The screen flickered to life, showing Paige’s face as she fumbled with my camera. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she adjusted the angle, murmuring to herself, “How does she make this look so easy?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the way she treated my camera like it was something sacred. Then her tone turned serious.

“Hey, Y/N,” she began, her voice soft but sincere. “I know you’re probably still upset about what happened, and honestly, you have every right to be. But I hope you know how much I admire you—your work, your passion, everything. You’re incredible, and I hate that I hurt you.”

My chest tightened as I listened, her words more heartfelt than I expected.

The video continued, capturing the moment I returned from the bathroom. Paige must have thought she’d turned the camera off, but it kept rolling as we talked, laughed, and shared pieces of ourselves on that cold gym floor.

By the time the video ended, I felt a mix of emotions—touched by Paige’s honesty, but also incredibly awkward knowing it had been recorded. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to delete it. Instead, I duplicated the footage onto a hard drive, labeling it simply as For Paige.

At the next practice, I made my way to the gym, the hard drive tucked securely in my bag. I was nervous to hand it over, unsure how Paige would react.

She spotted me as soon as I walked in, her face lighting up with a grin. “Hey, stranger! Decided to stop avoiding me?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide my smile. “I was never avoiding you.”

“Sure,” she teased, jogging over to meet me. “What’s that?”

I pulled the hard drive from my bag, holding it out to her. “It’s… the footage from the gym. I thought you might want a copy.”

Her smile softened as she took it from me, her fingers brushing against mine. “Thanks, Y/N. I didn’t think you kept it.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s good footage. And, well… I think it’s important.”

Paige’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “You’re important.”

The words hung in the air between us, making my heart skip a beat. Before I could respond, Coach blew his whistle, calling the team to start drills.

Over the next few weeks, Paige and I grew closer. At games—both home and away—she made a point to check in on me, making sure I had a good spot to shoot from and subtly positioning herself during warm-ups to shield me from stray balls.

“Protecting your camera,” she’d say with a smirk, though the warmth in her eyes told me it was more than that.

At home games, her attentiveness didn’t go unnoticed by the team—or the fans. KK and Azzi teased us relentlessly, while fans on social media began speculating about our dynamic, tagging us in posts with captions like, “Paige’s photographer girlfriend?”

One particular home game, as I set up my equipment during warm-ups, Paige jogged over, her usual grin in place.

“Let me try,” she said, gesturing to my camera.

I raised an eyebrow. “Try what?”

“Taking pictures,” she said, her tone playful. “You make it look easy, but I bet it’s harder than it seems.”

I hesitated, glancing at the camera in my hands. “Paige, this is expensive equipment. What if you drop it?”

She placed a hand over her heart, feigning offense. “Y/N, I’m an athlete. I have excellent hand-eye coordination.”

I laughed despite myself, eventually handing her the camera. “Fine, but if you break this one, you’re buying me a new one.”

“Deal,” she said with a wink, taking the camera from me.

She spent the next ten minutes snapping pictures of her teammates—some candid, some posed—and even turned the lens on me a few times.

“Paige!” I protested, holding up my hand to block her view.

“Come on, you’re the star of this project,” she teased. “Let me get one good shot.”

Reluctantly, I lowered my hand, letting her capture a few photos. She grinned at the screen, clearly proud of her work.

“You’re a natural,” I admitted as she handed the camera back.

“Only because I have the best teacher,” she replied, her tone soft.

Later, as the game began, I couldn’t help but notice how Paige glanced my way after every big play, her smile brighter than usual. When she made a block that sent the ball flying dangerously close to my corner, she immediately looked over, mouthing, “You okay?”

I nodded, giving her a thumbs-up, and she grinned before returning to the game.

By the time the night ended, I had more than enough photos for my project—and a growing collection of memories with Paige that I knew I’d treasure.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

[somerandomguybr]

Short story #4

You really are the perfect wife. Every time I get home, it’s a surprise waiting to happen. I never know what kind of mood — or mess — you’ll be in.

Sometimes, you’re completely sober, your sweet little ass swaying in the shower, singing like no one’s listening. Then you spot me, give me that look, and ask me to join you. I step in, and your body’s all slippery and warm against mine, pressing closer and closer. We make out and tease each other under the water, locking the world outside.

Then there are those nights when I find you tipsy in the kitchen. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips taste like wine, and your words spill out so fast I can barely keep up. You tell me about your day, giggling between sips, while I keep your glass full like the good husband I am. Most nights, I let you finish cooking, but sometimes… sometimes I can’t help myself. I hoist you up onto the counter, yank down those cute little panties, and bury my face between your thighs. You gasp and claw at my hair, the bottle still in your hand as you finish it off while I eat you good.

But my favorite? The nights when I come home to the sound of your drunk-ass laughter echoing through the house. I find you on the couch watching tv, a half-empty glass in one hand, your head wobbling. And I can’t never tell if it’s the show or your buzz that’s so damn funny. You try to stand up, but you flop right back down, laughing even harder.

I pick you up, and your body melts against mine, all warm and tipsy. Your breath reeks of booze, and fuck, you’ve never looked hotter. You half-heartedly push me, mumbling something about finishing your show, but your arms are useless. I pin you down on the couch, and the moment I’m inside you, all your drunken protests turn into desperate, needy moans. "Don’t stop" you whimper, legs wrapped around me, pulling me deeper as you scratch at my back like you’re trying to keep me there forever.

And then… there are those quiet nights. The ones where I come home to find the house dark, except for the glow of our bedroom light. I open the door, and there you are — passed out naked on the bed, hair a fucking mess, a bottle still clutched in your hand. The hum of your toy buzzes faintly as I pull it out and slide myself in. You’re already soaking, your body ready for me even if your mind’s too drunk to catch up. Your eyes flutter open just enough to see me, and you slur "I’m drunk" before you moan, legs spreading wider.

I fuck you hard and fast, and even in your haze, I know you're enjoying it as much as me. ________________________________

So tell me — what state will I find you in tonight?

[cloacacarnage]

[classyrbf]

you find it so funny how people think your husband, nanami, is the sweetest, most innocent and romantic man they’ve ever laid eyes on, such a gentleman. Which, they are correct in some ways. Gentleman. Check. Sweet. Check. Romantic. Check. He’s always buying you flowers, opening doors for you, kissing your hand, taking you out on spontaneous dates, calling you ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘love’, and treating you like some porcelain doll. But innocent? Oh no, no. You almost laugh because it may seem like your husband is ‘innocent’ or ‘vanilla’ whichever term they may use, but he is anything but that. While he may treat you like a princess in public, he absolutely sluts you out behind closed doors.

You don’t blame people for thinking he may look and act soft because that was your first impression of him too. So, imagine the surprise when you first had sex and he was pounding you in a mating press, tears streaming down your face. Yeah, best night of your life. And now that you’re married? God, it makes the sex one hundreds times better than before. He’s go you on your side, one arm hooked under your leg, reaching so far that he’s able to wrap his hand around your throat. The other wrapped around your waist, rubbing your clit while he fucks his cum into you. He’s forcing you to look him in the eyes, faces inches away from each other, because he wants to watch your pretty face when you cum. So innocent, right?

“Oh my god! Fuck!” You cry out, your breathing labored. He’s so deep inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over again to the point it makes your head spin especially when he’s toying with your swollen clit. “I can’t! I can’t, Ken! You’re too fucking deep! Ah!” You grip onto the ruffled sheets below, bucking your hips as you attempt to make his cock not feel so good, but the bruising grip he has on your throat and waist puts you right back in your place.

“You can take it, sweetheart. I know you can. You know why?” He pulls you in closer, pressing his lips to your ear. “Cause you’re a fucking slut for this dick.” He thrusts his hips faster, skin slapping against skin and the mixture of your juices and his cum create a sticky mess between your thighs. “Awe, is that gonna make you cum? Being degraded? I can feel your pussy clenching me,” he darkly smiled, heavy breaths fanning against your damp skin. He rubbed your clit faster, carefully watching the way you threw your head back in pure bliss.

“Fuckkkk! You’re gonna make me cum again!” Your toes curled the closer you got to your orgasm, whimpering as you took in every feeling of pleasure coursing through you.

“Squirt all over this dick, baby. Be a good girl for me and show me how good I make you feel.” He felt your walls tightening with each passing second, sweat trailing down his forehead as he kept his pace. Your legs began to shake as you writhed under him, cursing and screaming as you squirted all over, soaking the blankets below you. “Messy fucking slut. Look at you, you’re still fucking going.”

“Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!” Your brows furrowed as you watched him fuck you through your orgasm. “It’s too much, Ken!” You pulled his hand away from your clit, holding onto his wrist tightly while he slowed down his thrusts, now going deep and slow. You laid there in a dazed state, trying to catch your breath. His hand gently caressed your stomach slowly inching up towards your tits, cupping them in his hand while he placed sloppy kisses down your neck and to your collarbone.

So yes, while your husband may be such a gentleman, such a sweetheart, such an angel to others, in the back of your head, you think of those moments behind closed doors when he makes you cum your brains out, praising you and degrading you all within the same breath, choking you and treating you like some common whore. But after all that’s over, he’s back to treating you like the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

[tonycries]

I-T G-I-R-L!

Synopsis. Making big, powerful boys break beg and follow your every whim? Easy!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, NÉEDY boys, making them whine, bondagé, creampíes, GOJO’S POWERS, chokíng Geto, use of “good boy”, cúmplay, spítting, making them CRY, MAJOR overstím, bégging (THEM), pússy-slappíng, oraI (fem receiving), face-ríding, matíng presses, dry húmping, overspill, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (whew)

A/N. Woke up n’ decided I wanna bully them so here we are. Have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - MR. AND MRS.

“P-please.”

“What was that?”

“Fuck you-”

It was low - begging - and for the first time, you have that syrupy sweet privilege of hearing Toji’s husky baritone break with such a whiny crack at the end. 

Smugly, you swipe an index right across where your puffy pussy was straddling his poor, overworked cock. Collecting the saturated mess along his furious length - still so swollen with the sheer volume he’d been gushing out tonight. All the way up, up, up to that messy puddle of seed glistening all over his flinching abs. “Then…I guess m’not letting you cum inside, Toji. Again.”

“No! No no no- oh.” Toji’s burst of pained moans are cut off when you shove your fingers between his bruised lips. Dewy, green eyes rolling to the back of his head with each suck and slurp at their milky white sheen. “Fuck- you little-” And despite how furious he sounds, you could feel the very tip of his fat head thicken, twitching a jagged pattern along your cervix. With a low growl, Toji narrows his gaze, biting down on your now-clean digits with his sharp canines, “I said- please, my girl.”

Just that simple plea has your boyfriend’s jaw clenching, teeth gritted so viciously at the way you’ve been oh-so-coyly denying him the one thing he’s wanted for what feels like hours now. 

“Louder.” your lips curl into a devilish grin, back arching in that perfect bow Toji loved so much. Only deepening the lingering rolls of your hips down his needy tip. “Didn’t hear ya.”

“F-fuck.” Toji’s throwing his head back, thick fingers coming down to splay out across your bent thighs. “Can you- please-” You could feel every minute flex of his muscled thighs when he efforts to buck your sloppy hips deeper - faster - down his fat cock. Only to be halted by ten mean fingernails of yours pinning him down by his curving pecs, “-please. Wan’ cum inside- let me cum inside goddammit, woman.”

Of course, you decide to tease him by slowing down your pace even more. Letting your sloppy pussy just stroll down every greedy inch of his dick. Trying to hold back your content giggle, “I dunno…”

And Toji thinks he could yell out in frustration, he thinks he could sob, “Fuck- I said please. Pretty please? What more do you fucking want?”

He sounded so devastated. And you swear you could spy wet, bulbous tears at the corners of his long lashes, the familiar scar along his lips wobbling with such precious need. 

“Hmm–” you’re letting out such a sultry drag of your voice, taking so much of your sweet sweet time that Toji thinks he’s about to lose his mind. About to just flip your bratty self over and shove his thoroughly teased cock into you until you forget about that looming threat of not letting him paint your insides white. Fuck, the things he does for you-

“Call me your wife.”

Shit - Toji’s darkened eyes widen at your little request, jaw hanging open in disbelief and-

“That’s it?” he laughs - laughs. Rumbling out of his broad chest in a hoarse rasp, and those two strong arms of his tug down your limp body to kiss teasingly at your jutted-out lips. Slipping his hot tongue between the seams, “S’all because my hah- baby wanted to be my- my pretty lil’ wife. Well-” Any and every retort is fucked out of your mind when Toji’s spearheading into your mushy g-spot with a harsh rut of his hips. “-what my wife wants, my wife gets.”

The bed is creaking with every riotous slam, smearing the velvety pool of cum even farther between your bodies. Sticking to you like a sloppy second skin, strings of lewd juices form and snap when his massive cock stretches your gummy walls until they gape. 

“Shit- shit shit shit, if I knew that was all you wanted-” you’re feeling the languid drag of Toji’s happy trail scratch your throbbing clit. “Please- I would’ve been fucking my wife for s-so long now. Silly girl, s’all I’ve ever wanted- would’ve begged, gotten on my knees-”

“Hngh! Fuck-” you’re squealing when you feel him drip with even more saturated precum to coat your snug channel. One calloused palm of his coming between the two of your slick bodies to smear across the mess from his sweet highs, deftly angling them so that the rounded tips of his fingers are stuffing your leaky pussy with sloppy globs of his seed every time you’re slamming down. 

“Now now–”  It’s all you can do to gulp in heaving breaths to make your tone sound warning, but even that sounds too breathless - and both of you know it. Babbling away, “-don’t get so cocky- might just- hah, change my mind, husband.”

And fuck. Oh fuck. 

Your poor cunt just throbs when in a split-second, Toji’s mouth slacks even further, wrenching out a guttural groan. 

And then your gushing walls are milking out every ribbon of velvety cum that splurges into your tight pussy. It’s so much - too much, painting your insides all white with his seed. Toji’s gasping at the feeling of it sloshing around your elastic walls in slow, clingy swivels coating the both of you. 

His breath hitches when he spies down at the obscenely white mess below, globs of his cum slobbering messily down your inner thigh. Fuck, he’s never - never - came before you. This was-

“This better be a proposal, y’know.” you hum in amusement. “Or it would be interesting that you came early just becaus-”

“The fuck else would it be?” Toji’s gruffing out, two warm hands gliding to grip onto the globes of your ass. Still irritated. Still embarrassed. 

Ignoring your titter, he rams your teasing hips down with a sharp smack! like he was branding all five fingers onto your skin. Plugging your ravaged entrance shut with his weepy dick to stop even more of that thick, gushing cum from trickling out. You mewl when you feel his swelteringly wet tip quirk at the very bottom of your spongy cervix in interest, “Now be quiet and let me fuck you properly as my wife.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hands-on intervention…

“You really are trying to get us fired, huh, my love?” he’s murmuring gently, “What do you think you’re doing this late, hm?”

Now, Nanami knew he shouldn’t have taken on those extra documents, he knew he should’ve been back home by now. Wrapped up in you and your cute gossip about what happened in your department today.

But here he was, sitting at his empty office. With you - stubborn as you are - straddling him like such a slut on top of his heavily manspread, muscular thighs, his favorite late-night snack. His coworker. His wife. 

“I should hah- ask you the same thing, Ken.” you’re grinning, the sinfully tight satin of your skirt hiking up with each slow, teasing roll of your drooly cunt against his clothed erection. It’s so messy. Your syrupy saturated slick mixing in with Nanami’s steadily beading precum. “Didn’t we both agree to no more late nights?”

He’s heaving out a shaky sigh, running a warm hand up and down your arched spine, “I know, I know. I apologize.”

That frantically achy little pulse of your slick-glossed cunt on top of him told him that he wasn’t forgiven just yet. And Nanami gulps - loosening that yellow, speckled tie of his with the tight bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Rich tone shaky - shuddering, even, “How- how do you want me to make it up to you, darling?”

You’re batting your lashes at his expansive mahogany desk. “Well…”

Of course he should’ve seen where this was going - with your high-heel-clad feet swiveling high in the air, digging into his broad shoulders. Stitches in your poor skirt popping and tearing with each bullying thrust your husband’s planting on your ravaged in this tight mating press. 

“K-Ken—” you’re letting out such a sickly sweet moan when his fat, weepy tip collides with the very bullseye of your sensitive g-spot. Your fingers work deftly to reach into your skirt pocket - pulling out that familiar tiny hot-pink bullet vibrator.

“Walkin’ around with that during work?” Nanami gasps, barely tearing his eyes away from that heavenly sight of your swollen pussy entrance wrapped around his girthy shaft. “Such a dirty girl you-” 

“Oh s’not for me.” 

And fuck, Nanami can only watch - can only gape his clenched jaw open when your devious fingers dip the feverishly shaky vibrator down, down, down to kiss so delicately at his thick hilt. 

“Oh!” His towering body wracks with a shiver, full, heavy balls clenching so tightly. Hammering his rawly aching cock so thoroughly into you, hips pistoning forwards with the carnal need for more more more- “Wait- Fuck! M-my love?”

“Yes–?” you’re humming, low and sultry and oh Nanami already knows he’s gone. He can only pray he leaves with his sanity intact. 

Splaying out two large hands on the sides of your head, the documents on top rustle in sync with those saturatedly hypnotic squelches echoing from your ravishing cunt. “Is this- s’this oh, fuck- please.” Nanami screws his eyes shut when you’re holding down the device even harder onto his glistening shaft. “S’this- is it- because I broke our hah- promise?”

“Maybe.” you’re breathing out into his panting mouth. So enveloped by his weighty figure that it was almost difficult to work your little magic. “Maybe I just got tired of waitin’ around for you to finish overtime, Ken.”

“Please!”

Over and over. That tiny spark is enough to have him barrelling back into your dripping wetness with reckless abandon. 

He’s so utterly ruined - glasses sliding down his high nose-bridge, thighs quivering with sensitive need. And you could just feel every fresh wave of heated precum painting your cunt in a glossy new coat. “Fuck- tell me please. Please, darling, m’begging.”

“Promise me no more overtime.” You’re grinning, fingers still steady tracing his most sensitive spots. 

“P-promise…”

“N’ to always hurry home to me?”

“I promise! I promise- promise to always come home- to you- always. Please-” he’s startling you with a soft pad of his thumb rolling over your neglected clit. Such a low, broken keen leaving him at when you start drawing harsh, methodical circles on the sensitive spots along his length. “N-no more overtime. Please please please- feels too good- what do I do- what-”

Ah, success looked so pretty.

Nanami’s eyes were already so watery, stern lips trembling with little apologies about “never workin’ overtime again.” So uncharacteristically disheveled in a way that makes your mouth water.

“Shit-” you hiss when that pointed nub of the vibrator accidentally hits your widely stretched-out pussy. The velvety cling of your walls making him hiss furiously. Disrupting, fat tip nudging all those crevices along your snug channel. “Hah- don’t think I’d let you off so-”

Before you can react, he’s hiking a long leg up on the desk to angle his crashes with scary accuracy. Just colliding against your bulbous g-spot with no hesitation. Pushing, with the very edge of his weepy tip - far, so far that you could scream.

Over and over and over- So elastically stretching out your snug hole to your limits to take him in all his long, throbbing entirety. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck I know, I know.” He’s alternating between long, rough strokes to shove you further and further up the cool desk, and shallow lingering grinds to mold your pretty walls to the exact form of his swollen shaft. “I’ll do anything- anything, please just- cum.”

It only takes a few more calculated pistons of his hips, and a touchy, teasing smack! onto your weepy cunt before you’re crashing headfirst into your orgasm. Cumming all around his wildly twitching shaft, your velvety walls just mending all around the shape of his pretty cock. Your toes curl, back arching into such a bowing bend. And in the split-second your grip weakens, Nanami’s seizing that hot pink devil in your hand.

“F-fuck wait-” you squeal at at familiar bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt echoing across the filled-out walls of your cunt. Squeezing inside the tight fit where Nanami’s fat shaft was nestling, tremoring so deliciously against each and every one of your sweet spots. Stuffing you full. “What-”

“Don’t forget - you’re working overtime, too, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - No need for air

“F-fuuuck, gorgeous.” Geto’s melodic moan makes your cunt throb, a fresh gush of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down to where he was slapping your puffed-up clit with his fat head. The angry divot of his tip smacking up once, twice onto the too-sensitive nub. 

“So fuckin’ wet f’me-” he whispers from behind, gliding a thumb across the glossy sheen trickling down from the corners of your slit. The sight of his glistening fingers makes him bare you with such a crazed, feral grin, feeding you inch by fucking in languid, bullying rams. “-almost makes me forget the hand around my throat.”

At this, your nails are digging in even deeper around the pale, long column of his throat. Leaving neat, red indents that stand out. And you swear you could spy his leering grin grow even wider at that sinful sting. 

“What about it, Sugu?” you’re grinning over your shoulder. Gasping for air at how relentlessly he was trying to squeeze his fat shaft through that tight, glossy ring of muscle. 

Each drag of his throbbing shaft has your fingers tightening more around his throat. Making Geto feel so woozy and lightheaded with each little grind into the glistening channel past your puffy folds. “Heh, really like fuck- it rough like this, huh?” A low groan drags at the back of his throat when you start pushing your limp hips back in a jerky little cadence to try and meet his. “Shit- shit shit shit s’too good. You’re suckin’ me up so tight s’almost hard to fuck into ya. Almost makes me wanna-”

“Cum inside?” 

This earns you a punishing smack! on your bulging cunt, cool metallic rings of his burning into your skin. So sopping wet and struggling to expand your gummy walls around his expanding girth. Drawing out a dark chuckle from the depths of his chest, “Real funny, gorgeous. You and I both hah- know s’jus’ your hngh! cockdrunk mind talking.”

“Nooo—” you’re tugging him in a desperate, vice-like grip to crash your lips against his. Whining against his lips, “S’not. Really really want you to cum inside, Sugu. F’me - please? Like a good boy?” 

It was a little slip of your tongue - really - and you didn’t expect anything more than another teasing slap to your cunt, maybe even a joke at your expense.

But what you didn’t expect was for the sloppy cadence of Geto’s hips to falter just a bit. You’re turning your head just in time to catch that glassy, far-away look in his eyes, jaw slacking open to let out a shocked gasp. You hear a sharp pop! from his toned hips before they’re surging forwards to barrel your poor cunt with every weighty inch of his girth. 

Over- and over and over- One large hand of his is catching around yours to squeeze - warningly. Letting out a strangled, “G-gorgeous…”

Oh? 

Brows quirking, you’re batting your lashes so syrupy slow, “Are you gonna be my good boy, Sugu? Make me a momma?”

Another lewd push and pull, having you bouncing back on Geto’s sharp hipbones with such loud smacks! of skin-on-skin. Ringing into the humid, heady air and wracking his body with almost-painful shivers. 

“F-fuck–” He’s struggling to find the words - to even think with his melty mess of a mind. Such a delicate blush burns at Geto’s scowling cheeks when you’re facing him with a surprised grin - one he hides by latching his lips onto the crook of your neck, hiding away the smile threatening at his plump lips. “God- you’re gonna be the death of me. Don’t you fuckin-”

Your firm grip grows even firmer, resolving to him choking in large, breathy exhales. “Good boy.” Craning your arm around deftly to cup his pretty cheek. “You’re gonna do what I say, right?”

Shit, he was a goner.

It has the same effect, and once again, your big bad boyfriend is reduced back into a whiny mess. He’s planting two strong legs on the drenched silken sheets to fully fuck his bullying cock all the way into the back of your plushy pussy. 

Usually sharp tongue so heavy and slurring. Babbling out little pleas into the rhymically jiggling valley of your breasts - “Ohhh yes- yes yes yes please let me- wanna- m’your good boy, right? Let me cum inside, hngh shit! Wan’ you to take it- ah- a-all, make you a momma.” 

He lets out wet, feverish pants when you drag him close enough to moan that dangerous little word into his mouth. “Please? Please let me?” Geto nuzzles his cheek into your soft palm, heady movements so slow. Syrupy - like he was moving through molasses. And it’s like he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he’s popping one of your fingers into his mouth. Delicate pink lips looking so pretty - depraved - wrapped around your ring finger. “Wanna knock you up- hah marry you.” His eyes roll to the back of his head, “Put a ring on this finger- n’ a baby in ya pretty pussy.”

Meeting that increasingly ruthless cadence by fucking back to memorize each thumping ridge, each prominent vein along his girthy shaft. Twitching. Angry. He’s nodding - nodding so feverishly - tears crinkling glisteningly at the corners of his lids. “Please- please call me that again. Let me make you a momma, please.”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence, because it only takes a few more solid, thorough swallows of his rummaging cock before he’s speechless. So fucking pussydrunk he can’t piece together anything but your name followed by a slurred-out string of profanities. Close. Too close. 

Staring into Geto’s heavy, half-lidded gaze, you whisper such a saccharine sweet, “Then, cum inside f’me like a good boy, Sugu.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Crybaby.”

It’s by the second orgasm that Choso feels a bit jittery, thighs quivering uncontrollably, chest heaving up and down in pained, ragged little gasps. 

It’s by the fourth that Choso feels nervous, he trusts you - of course, he does, you’re his sweet girl after all - and yet he can’t help that churning heat in his pulse. Heavy balls squeezing weakly with each glide of your soft palm down his red, achingly stimulated length. 

It’s only by the fifth that Choso is sobbing, big fat tears trailing down to his glossy lips. Such a rosy red and bitten in worry, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Oh, it takes everything in Choso to not cling on desperately to your feverish hand right now - dwarfed by his sheer girth, so glossy with a thick sheen of precum - yet still dragging up and down relentlessly. Treating him like some toy. 

“Baby–” your beloved boyfriend’s wet gasp catches in his throat when you swivel a curious thumb underneath his sensitive slit. Letting a fresh gush of his saturated precum glisten down to your wrist. “Baby baby baby- please. P-please, I don’t think I can- ngh- give y’anymore.”

“I think you can.” your leveled hum cuts through his frantic pleas. “Don’t you think? After all, you were so happy getting off to my panties like this, weren’t you? Ruining them?”

It’s like the very memory of his shameful act has Choso fucking his jerky hips up into your soft touch, arching his muscled back into a beautiful curve on your soaked bedsheets. Oh, how embarrassed he felt - how shameful, being caught in the very act by you, fingers deep in your panty drawer. 

Despite his very obvious need, he’s shaking his barely-lucid head. Damp, dark tresses sticking to his sweat-glossed forehead, curtaining those glassy eyes. Slurring out, “Fuck! Please m’sorry m’sorry I don’t think- can’t-”

So deceivingly innocently, you’re batting your lashes in a way that has his massive girth jolting ferally in your hand, “But that’s all I really want, Cho~?”

“...”

Leaning down, Choso could feel your mean smirk against his hotly flushed skin. Dragging up his salty trail of tears, kissing so gently meanwhile your next words made him think he’d pass out. Sultry, and whispered right against the shell of his ear, “Then we better make this last one count, right?”

“Ah!” he’s yelping, large hands scrambling for the sheets - the headboard - you when you seat yourself so prettily on his splayed-out lap. Greedy cunt feeding into every long, solid inch of his achy cock in an easy glide. It felt so good - it hurt so good. Fuck, he thinks he’s gonna-  “-die.” Choso rasps, jittery hands coming to rest at your waist. “Think m’gonna die- gonna- fuck fuck fuck-”

You didn’t even have to think of moving, yet - because all it takes is for Choso’s gushy tip to be swallowed up by your snug channel - the slightest taste of heaven, the slightest squeeze - before you’re being slammed down onto the plush mattress.

Breath puffing out of your lungs, gasping at the sheer stretch when your dangling legs are being thrown over Choso’s broad shoulders. Wrapping tight into a vice-like grip when he folds you in half, down, down, down into the meanest mating press you didn’t think either of you capable of.

But rationality was the last thing on Choso’s mind, right now. 

“Baby—” he’s hissing, fully sheathed inside your dripping cunt to that thick hilt of his. He gulps at the stars bursting behind his lids with each slow, lingering grind. Nuzzling into your touch, “Baby, can’t b-believe you’ve ahh- brought me to this state. M’sorry hah- please forgive me.”

And you almost feel bad - that is, until Choso’s swiping his fat tip against your spongy cervix. Still feeling every single pads of your fingers burning down his raw shaft every time your puffy cunt milks him tight. He’s jutting in jerky, unmethodical little humps - feeling less human than just sheer need. 

“W-well-” you’re gasping, when he gives such a ruthless smash into your bruisingly bulging g-spot. Bonelessly, you wrap your arms around his pale neck, tugging him in so close. A full-body shudder wracks through his entire body when you crane your glossy lips up to bite down on his ear lobe, “-how about you cum f’me again to make up for those three limited edition panties you stole.”

His jaw falls even more slack at your little sentence, a shiny trail of drool dripping from the corners of his ravaged lips. 

“Baby, please.” he’s hissing, moving pistoning even sloppier into you as if on autopilot. A cracking ah! ah! ah! leaves Choso’s mouth at every bullying crash against your g-spot, every dizzying thrust. “Anything else. Please please-”

Through his blurry vision, the blood roaring in his ears, Choso could make out your soft suckling kiss against his slack lips. “Cum f’me, Cho.”

Maybe it’s that honeyed little nickname, maybe the way the curve of your thumb glides away his mess of syrupy saliva. Or maybe it was the way your velvety walls come to form around him so tight - squeezing almost meanly. Once. Twice. 

Choso doesn’t know - nor does he fucking care right now.

“F-fuck I can’t believe-” his eyes snap so comically wide open, letting out such a long, drawn-out drawl of your name. Hips stuttering to smack forwards, “-m’cumming- shit, it hurts- it feels so good. M’cumming m’cumming-”

Choso cums - in ghosting, wispy streams of almost-translucent fluid. Withering out into nothing, until his poor, overworked cock is spurting out just blank heavals. Cumming dry, the only signs of him fucking you through his high being that shaking in his thighs, that frantic twitching of his shaft - flinching to nudge into each dripping sweet spot inside you. 

And his broken, pleading cries, “Fuck- m’buying you the hah- wh-whole store. Fuck- please, baby just-” Nudging his sobbing cock even deeper to brand at your cervix, “-just one more.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - TASTE

“You little-”

“What?” you’re leering down at the great Ryomen Sukuna. Pink locks splayed out across the decadent silk sheets, pretty face framed so perfectly by your thighs. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Not quite.” his long, rosy tongue licks a strip up your exposed skin. All the way up from about midway at your inner thigh to just the edges of your drippingly wet panties. Syrupy sweet, and see-through with all your juices. “You really think this is gonna make me say sorry for uh-”

You have to stifle a low laugh when Sukuna cuts himself off with a ragged hitch of his breath. Sharp, cursed eyes widening - just a fraction - honing in to let his greedy tongue loll out. It takes him only a split-second to catch that droopy ooze of your slick, beading through your sopping slit and right onto the middle of his tastebuds. 

“Mmm-” he’s licking that lewd little gloss all over his lips without even a shred of abashedness. “Where- uh where were we, brat?”

Without warning, you’re lacing your fingers through his surprisingly soft strands. Pulling - hard enough to make him groan - until the tip of Sukuna’s nose was just kissing at the lacy mound of your cunt. 

“I believe…” you’re smirking at the way that’s all it takes for him to slide the thick seam of his tongue between the thin fabric of your panties. Red - to match his eyes. Not wasting even a second when he lets your honeyed sweet cunt drool all the way down to the back of his throat. “Not gonnna make him say sorry” your ass. “-you were in the middle of apologizing for forgetting our little dinner date.”

You don’t think he hears you - you don’t even think he breathes. Because with one, final shuddering breath puffed out onto your quivering pussy, Sukuna is meshing his lips with yours in such a messy kiss. Fast, thirsty. Clashing against your swollen folds, slurping past your flimsy excuse of panties to latch around your throbbing clit. He’s hollowing out his cheeks to give them harsh, methodical little sucks. 

“Shit- mmpf- fuck I always forget how sweet you are.” he’s rasping, two large hands coming up to spread the globes of your ass. Pushing you up, up, up to slobber all your saturated slick down the lower half of his face - his cheekbones. “C’mon now, ride my nose- hah, use me with this cute cunt like you always do.”

Fuck, was it tempting. And it takes everything in you to tug away his salivating mouth with a loud squelch! And if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that the infamous king of curses let out a whine - a whine - watching those delicate strings of spit and slick snap away when you hoist yourself off his greedy mouth.  

“What the fuck, woman?”

“I told you, Kuna.” you whine out, as scoldingly as you can. Wrangling against those big beefy arms trying to desperately pull you back down, “You hafta apologize.”

You’re teetering precariously when Sukuna’s entire chest rumbles with a groan, eyes rolling so sassily. “What did you want me to do?” he clicks his tongue. Baring you with such dangerous fangs that glisten with your juices in the dim light. “Had to kill off some scum curses, s’not my fault. M’not apologizing for- shit-”

Any and every retort is knocked out of his mean mouth at that heavenly sight of you running your trembly fingers between your puffed-up pussy lips. Pushing past your panties to run them up and down where your dripping wet cunt needed you most. 

“Oh?” you’re quirking a brow at how transfixed he was. Following that shuddering gulp when you roll your neglected clit between two fingers. “Cat got your tongue now?”

His jaw slacks open when you’re teasing your winking hole, glossed-up and already so pliant with where Sukuna had just dipped the edge of his soft tongue inside. His mouth waters at the memory, “I–”

“Or is it that you just don’t hah-” you’re arching your back even more to give him the perfect view. Fingers getting a bit more frenzied, circling around the very edge of that ring of muscle the way you knew he loved to do. “-want this-” Whining out, “-Kuna–?”

That was it.

“Fuck, sit-” Sukuna’s gritting out through clenched teeth. And when you’re only stagnating and hovering tempestuously in front of him, he wraps all four large arms around the small of your waist. “-fucking sit, woman.” 

You’re squealing at the force of his inhuman strength, dragging you down unceremoniously onto his awaiting mouth. With this, he’s spitting on your cunt. Once. Twice. Three whole times to add to the glistening gloss that collected down your folds. 

“M’sorry, see?” he goads pridefully. Oh, if anyone heard the cruel king of curses apologizing like this, they’d faint. Giving the fat of your ass a branding smack! Hard enough that he could feel all five bumps of his sweltering fingers on your skin. “Fuckin’ little- oh- spoiled little-” But Sukuna can’t even finish his sentence - can’t even think about it with his mind so saturated. Hot tongue mashing in to swerve and drag across those sweet spots hidden at your plushy walls. “Said m’sorry, s’this good enough for you?”

Your pussy such a sopping wet mess that Sukuna can’t help but kiss again. And again. And again and again and- “See m’sorry. M’so, so sorry- fuck just never take this pretty pussy away from me, little brat.” 

And now you’re sure he lets out a whimper - raspy, and a few octaves higher than his usual baritone. So deep now that he was just cinching your pulsing clit across his sharp nose. Murmuring, “Stop laughing- can feel ya shaking- before I cancel our dinner reservation for tomorrow. M’renting out the whole fuckin’ restaurant, so ya better give me my fill.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Bed chem.

“It won’t-” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the great Gojo Satoru was pleading right now. Praying. Voice shot, pretty pink lips wobbly, pale hand raw and red from tugging on those fluffy handcuffs. He’s pouting, “Won’t work.”

He was so picture-perfect, restrained tight to the headboard with those customized handcuffs you’d ordered. Blinking his weepy, blue eyes droopily, slurring words that were all bark and no bite. 

You’re rolling your eyes, giving his spit-glossed lips a lingering little peck, “Didn’t think you were such a pussy, Toru?”

“F-fuck who are you calling a-” It makes your cunt absolutely drip with a fresh wave of honeyed juices when you give his sensitively overworked shaft another thorough glide of your drooling walls. Meshing your pussy lips with the very hilt of his angry, red cock. “Please- fuck when you’re riding me like that, sweetheart.” he’s yanking frantically on those restraints as if to hold onto your feverishly gliding body. “Think- hngh! Think I really will explode-”

“Oh?” you’re cutting through his babbles, eyes flitting over his powerful arms, those glassy eyes that just seemed to glow in the dim bedroom lighting. “I knew I wasn’t seeing things, so you do think that- ah- your powers are linked to you-”

Your thoughts are spiraling into a gooey mess when Gojo’s uncontrollably strengthened thighs leverage themselves on the silken mattress to just rut up into your squelching pussy. 

“Jus’ wanna see, Toru.” you’re huffing, reaching a hand behind your ruthless hips to palm at his painfully squeezing balls. Rolling the soft pad of your thumb over the curve of their straining texture - just the way he liked it, “Wan’ you to cum f’me. Just wanna see.”

“Using all your dirty tricks-” he’s spitting, mouth sagging open to let you plant a few somewhat apologetic kisses down Gojo’s face. “I can’t-” Another harsh buck of his hips, and with such a loudly pornographic mewl he’s bullying his overwhelmed cock up, up, up to swerve into your neverendingly sloppy staccato - right into your sweet spots. “Fine- fucking fine- hah- use me. Use me for whatever- just, please. Fuck I just wanna cum- please—”

You’re very quickly realizing that those handcuffs can do nothing to restrain Gojo Satoru. In fact, the only reason they’re still on him unscathed was purely out of indulging in your cute little play. 

Gifting you with such a sexily cocksure grin he tries to mask away his furious flush, his trembling voice with, “N-no, m’not a- hngh! M’not some grade 4 sorcerer. I’m the fuuuck- strongest, why would my powers go out of control when I cum- fuck-

Gojo’s blabbering mouth is cut off with each gripping slide down his achy cock. Molding your plushy walls to each of his eager twitches, so fucking massive that you had to balance your hands on your boyfriend’s broad deltoids to even have him reach each hidden deep spot inside you. 

It makes him throw his head back, it makes him cry out, it makes him whine. 

And it only takes a few more churning strokes of Gojo’s hips, a few more critical mashes into the spongy bullseye of your g-spot before you’re cumming. So hard that you don’t even realize it at first. 

Gojo does, though - of course, he does - fighting back against the velvety cling of your cunt to fuck you into the desk so deeply. So purposefully that he can almost feel every indented bruise of his fat tip hitting against your slick cervix, your bouncy g-spot. Wave after wave having you milking the fucking soul out of him and-

“Fuck m’gonna-” he’s whining, hips stuttering upwards like they’re pained to pull back from your heavenly pussy. If even just to thrust his greedy length all the way back in. Gojo’s breaths come out in ragged pants, chest heaving up and down. Somehow, the hairs on your body raise, and you can feel that familiar tension of pressurized atoms. “Can’t hah- last much longer. Fuck- please. M’close- gonna cum gonna-”

That sobbing little divot at the end of his angry, thick head just bursts with thick, long ribbons upon ribbons of sloshing white cum. Gliding across every inch of your tight pussy, coating all your insides in a creamy color that was so Gojo. 

It’s so much - dripping down the corners of your bulging slit in oozing little dredges, making such a mess of your rapidly overfilling cunt. Almost too much - it felt like you could explode. 

You’re almost missing that familiar little flash of blue lightning at the corner of Gojo’s pussydrunk eyes. Glowing and almost falling shut with just how fucking good it felt to have your milky cunt sloshing full of his seed. The thought- the thought makes him-

You’re gasping when the lamp by your sloppy bed starts flickering so dangerously, once. Twice. Before bursting into tiny shards that flick at the both of you - only to be stopped, falling to the surrounding blankets just a few centimeters short like they were hit by an invisible wall.

“T-Toru–” the sound of your voice makes something in Gojo’s heating body raise its dark, feral head. And he only wrenches out of those pathetic handcuffs to wrap two big, strong arms around your waist. Face burying into your skin, fucking up into you over and over and-

CREAK! 

The bed groans at his rough cadence, so loud even over the dragging wooden noises of some of the furniture nearby inching forward like they were briefly tugged by some magnetizing force - Gojo. 

Bingo.

And it’s like something snaps because you’re jolted with a sharp spark of electricity. White-hot pleasure blissing down your entire limp body, and suddenly your high feels like it’s being repeated over and over and-

“Hey- hey, sweetheart?” Gojo’s voice sounds so far away. Lazily, your heavy lids blink back your vision - when did it even become hazy? “...y’know how every science experiment has about five trials?”

“...”

A/N. I don’t want to write a longer version of Gojo’s but the demons in me want to write a longer version of Gojo’s…

Plagiarism not authorized.