#whats baby pep called again

[jesterable]

SEEING THEM ON THE BIG SCREEN SHOT ME DEAD AND TOOK MY WALLET

[freakalot]

“smile for the camera, baby!” ☆

as if you could.

caleb is all too cocky about your inability to do anything but lay beneath him all slack-jawed and shaky as he drills his cock into you despite your overstimulation.

you’re so fucked out that you can’t even muster up the energy or mindpower to regret gifting your boyfriend and polaroid camera for his birthday. you had brought it with romance in mind—he’s away so often for such long periods at a time that you thought a few sweet photos he can carry in the lining of his uniform jacket would be a nice idea.

but caleb, the amalgamation of all things desperate and horny, couldn’t wait five minutes after unwrapping his gift to start unwrapping you as well. each layer of clothing discarded he’d reward with a photo of your revealed skin until he was trying to finesse a way to hold the camera with one hand as the other pumped his fingers mercilessly into your cunt.

now, hours later, you’re laying on a bed of polaroids, each more lewd than the last. one digs into your skin while another is jostled off the bed with the hard thrusts of your boyfriends leaky cock into your (regrettably) still-needy pussy. the effect this man has on you is unreasonable—you’ve cum so many times that you can’t form a coherent thought and still you think you’d cry if he pulled out and denied you the stretch of his cock.

flash. another shot is taken, this one of your glossy eyes and drool-soaked lips.

“you’re so messy,” he teases like his dick isn’t shining with the sweet mixture of your releases—like he’s not spat on your cunt just to rub load after load of cum around your clit in sick circles that make you choke on your breath. what an asshole he is.

“gonna make you cum again, pips,” he grins, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “i want to see if i can catch you squirting in a pic, hm?”

you part your kiss-swollen lips to protest. “cant—“ is all you can manage though, before your boyfriend, your best friend, is squeezing your cheeks between his long fingers and frowning down at you.

“don’t doubt yourself, pretty, you can do anything if you set your mind to it!”

pep talk of the century. you’d laugh at him if you had half your mind left, but all you have the space to think about is how he’s never gotten quite this deep inside of you before. you don’t even process the way he’s driven your hips up with his thighs to feel even more of you around him.

so perfect, he calls you. and even though he’s fucking you erratically, once he feels the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he’s all smiles. sweet glossy eyes brimming with needy tears, flushed cheeks, soft brows… the man with his cock so deep inside of you that you’re seeing stars, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead as you orgasm.

it’s too much. you choke on it, you feel it in every bone in your body and still you crave more of him. you squirt around his cock with a moan made for porn and caleb feels like a hormonal virgin all over again.

click. another pic; one that prints to be fanned out immediately—one hand flapping the print through the air as the other one rubs slow circles on your tummy as he tries to feel himself pushing inside of you.

once it finally develops enough to gift caleb with the sight of your spread legs and the mess of lust between them, you swear he grows even harder inside of you.

“yeah,” your idiot of a man grins. “this one’s going on my wall.”

[starshideurfics]

Omega Steve crying on the bathroom floor next to a positive pregnancy test because he wants this baby so bad, but he never wanted to trap Eddie. He wants Eddie to stay for him.

vs.

Alpha Eddie who has had a ring box in his pocket for a month looking for the perfect opportunity to propose.

💍💍💍

Today’s going to be the day. Eddie’s decided that it has to be since he keeps overthinking it and chickening out. That’s why he went to get a pep talk from Wayne, a little reassurance that anyone with eyes can tell Steve will say yes.

He squeezes the little box in his pocket as he runs up the stairs to his and Steve’s apartment, and squares his shoulders as he opens the door. “Baby!” he calls, “I’m home!”

Normally, Steve would yell back or come to meet him, but the apartment is worryingly quiet. And the sour scent of a distressed omega fills the air.

Steve either can’t, or won’t answer him, so Eddie follows his nose, quickly finding his way to the closed bathroom door. “Baby? What’s wrong?” he asks gently, hand on the knob. He doesn’t turn it, waiting for an invitation, but all he hears are soft whimpers from the other side. His pulse jumps, worry winning out as he works the knob. “Steve?”

The knob stops short. It’s locked.

Steve never locks the bathroom door. He is a firm believer that if they live together, he’s not going to pretend he doesn’t poop. So at least Eddie can rule out Steve suffering through diarrhea.

It doesn’t make him feel much better.

Eddie taps at the door. “Sweetheart, can I please come in?”

Steve just whimpers louder.

“Please, baby,” Eddie begs, his own voice sounding watery, “I just wanna make sure you aren’t hurt.”

He hears a gentle shuffling, followed by a whimpered, “I fucked up, Eddie.”

“Steve, hey-”

“I really fucked up.” Now Steve’s crying hard, the kind of weeping that makes Eddie’s instincts howl. His omega is hurting—is scared—and he just wants to bring Steve to their den, to cuddle in their nest and keep his mate safe. Because that’s what Steve is to him, even if it isn’t official yet. So it hurts all the worse when Steve moans, “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“Steve, baby, it’ll be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Just let me in, please.” Eddie futilely turns the knob again, smacks his palm against the wood of the jamb. He takes a breath. Panicking won’t help anyone. Then he takes a step back, prepares to kick the door open—he can replace a door, he can’t replace Steve—when he hears the lock click.

Eddie fumbles for the knob, his nerves getting the better of him, but he gets the door open, sour distress so much stronger as he moves into Steve’s space. He’s quick to look him over for injuries, hands running up his arms and along his back, up into his hair to make extra sure. At least Steve leans into the touch. At least he hides his face against Eddie’s shoulder as he silently weeps.

“It’ll be okay, baby, I’m here. Not going anywhere.”

That makes Steve cry harder.

Then Eddie sees it: the box in the trash.

Omega’s Choice Pregnancy Test - Results you can trust in only 5 MINUTES

He glances around, easily finds the little plastic stick on the floor near Steve’s feet, sees the pair of blue lines in the window.

“I fucked up,” Steve moans again, his words a little muffled by Eddie’s chest.

“You didn’t fuck up,” Eddie promises, rubbing small circles over Steve’s spine. “You’re perfect, baby.”

“I did! I trapped you!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“But I did!”

“Steve, it isn’t much of a trap when you’ve been very up front about wanting kids. And about quote, ‘I want you to come so deep inside me that it goes back in time and makes me pregnant a week ago,’ unquote.”

Steve blushes, tries to deflect. “That’s just sexy talk. Heat of the moment stuff.”

“We ran out of condoms two months ago and you told me not to buy more.”

Facing crumbling in pain, Steve shouts, “But now you’re only gonna stay for the baby!”

That hurts worse than a slap. But he knows how fucked Steve’s parents’ marriage is, how they made it very clear that they stayed together because of him. Not even *for* him. Trapped.

“I love you, Steve. Us having a baby just means I get to love you both. No one is trapped. I’m pretty damn sure I’m right where I want to be. Almost.”

Steve sniffles, finally looking at Eddie with red, puffy eyes. “Almost?”

Smiling, Eddie goes down on one knee, keeping hold of Steve’s hand. “Marry me, Steve.”

“No. Nononono. Eddie, see, I trapped you! You can’t ask me to marry you just because I’m pregnant!” Steve moans, feebly pulling his hand back.

Eddie holds on tight with one hand, reaches into his pocket with the other and pulls out the ring box. He flicks it open, revealing a simple platinum band with a single star-incised diamond. “I’ve been trying to find the perfect time to ask you since your birthday. You can ask Robin; she helped pick the ring. Or ask Wayne! He told me I’d better ask you today, or he’d do it for me!” Eddie smiles one of his crooked little grins up at Steve and places the ring box in his palm. “I’ve been planning to marry you ever since our first kiss. And I’ve been planning to give you babies just about as long, because you will be such a great mom. I can’t imagine a more perfect person for me, Steve, than you. I want *everything* with you, so please, marry me.”

Steve’s lower lip quivers. “Everything?”

“Everything and always.”

“Okay,” Steve says with a nod and—finally—some happy tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Eddie.”

Steve has Eddie slide the ring into his finger before he allows the alpha to stand, happily melting into a kiss when he does. “I love you,” he whispers against Steve’s lips. “Now how about we go try to get you pregnant again to celebrate?”

[wonderjanga]

I feel like that, whenever Billy needs a break from heroing, Freddy will sit on Mary’s shoulders and somehow convince everyone that they are Captain Marvel

The JL have noticed something recently when it comes to Cap. Recently, he’s been looking younger? Like Junior level young, and the boy looks twelve. Eventually, someone decided to ask about it,

GL: “Hey, uh… Cap?”

Junior: “Ye-” *clears throat to make his voice sound deeper* “Yes?”

GL: “We wanted to ask, why do you suddenly look normal, then young, then normal, then young again?”

Junior: “Uh…”

GL: “I mean, we know you aren’t human so is that apart of your biology or something?”

Mary: *doesn’t even want to dissect that statement and whispers something to Freddy*

GL: “What was that?”

Junior: “Nothing. Listen, to answer your question, it’s from a babyface spell.”

GL: “A what?”

Junior: “A baby face spell. It makes you look young.”

GL: “You get hit with that a lot, huh?”

Junior: *nods* “Unfortunately.”

GL: “Huh. …well, cool!” *is about to walk away* “Nice trench coat by the way!” *walks off with a pep in his step*

Junior: “Thanks!”

Later…

Junior: *making himself a sandwich cause Mary went to go piss*

GL: “Oh, hey, Junior!”

Junior: “Hey.” *takes a nice big bite of the sandwich*

GL: *stares* “You know, you know, you really look like your father? Right?”

Junior: *pauses mid-bite* “What?”

GL: “Well, he’s been hit with a Babyface spell a bunch of times apparently, and you look a lot like him when he has a babyface.”

Junior: “Oh really…?”

GL: “Yeah! Though I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. I mean, he is your dad.”

Junior: “Right… yup. Like father like son I guess.”

Then, there came the inevitable day. Mary lost her balance.

Mary and Junior: *tumble and sprawl out on the floor*

JL: *gasps*

Junior: *still sprawled, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how fucked they are*

Mary:*most bored, monotonous voice* “Ah… Ah… I’ve been cut in half! Oh no!”

*silence*

Junior: “YOU WEREN’T EVEN THE ONE ON TOP, MARY!”

Mary, Freddy, AND Billy, who had to be called in even though he was sick, were chewed out for nearly 3 hours because of this.

[gamblersdoll]

drunk! bakugou, ex! bakugou , masturbation (m received)

it had been hell without you.

many months that you both broken up, damn near a year since the day you both argued like wolves and you both threw your hands up, saying you were done.

bakugou had liked to think that he broke up with you, not the other way around. he always told his people or the media, “i broke up with her, she just wasnt working for me.” and in reality? neither one of you broke up with each other. it was simple: you both separated, not one separate from each other.

but he couldnt let you have the last laugh.

he hated how much his friends would come to your defense— he knew they would, the countless talks of how he was wrong about some things. in pretense, he got mad that you didnt answer your phone on your way home from work (i mean, how could you? youre driving, for fucks sake), and he blew you off just to try and show you a lesson.

boy, did he get an earfull from kirishima.

he hated it. he hated you.

he hated how you moved out and post your pictures like with no flaw, no matter what. you were smiling. he hated how you look so good, and youre back on the platforms of dating.

he hated how he let you go.

he hated how he was somewhat insecure with his masculinity and thought that he was just some plaything you had— also matched with his flowing ego, it was a mental battle with himself.

the burn of the hennessy breached his lips, his adams apple bobbing after he tossed his head back. “fuck..”

“not you bein’ an alcoholic.” kaminari giggled, elbowing him. “the breakup that bad?”

“you better stop before he becomes an angry drunk.” kirishima warns, reminding kaminari and the past fight he and the blonde had. “lets go, we’ll be back man.”

“awh, where we goin?” kaminari asked, putting some pep in his step and letting the door slam behind him.

bakugou did miss you. he missed finding random coils of hair in his bathroom, he missed finding random bonnets of yours that you lost from months ago. he missed the smell of honey and brown sugar from your skin. he missed the random meals that he came home to.

he took things for granted— no, he didnt take shit for granted. you just didnt respect the fact he was your man.

and yet, he thought about how bad he missed the slick of your creamy slit. he missed his balls slapping against your clit when he tapped that ass. he missed the way youd scream for him. maybe its the drunk getting to his brain, the warm tingles of his skin and hes whipping his dick out from his jeans. he tugs at the tip, a guttural groan from his lips— and he’s scrambling to find his phone.

“hello?” you ask, the ‘unknown number’ on your screen and you hear shuffling. “whos’ this?”

“hey,” katsuki mumbles, you can hear it: hes dark liquor drunk. there was a difference, especially when he drank wine for the first time. “how ya doin?”

“katsuki?” you’re dumbfounded, its been damn near a year. “what do you want? to bother me again? we’re done.” you grit your teeth, really not in the mood for his games. you were just about to hit the fattest joint, (one that mina gave you months ago), and here he was.

“cmon, bruh,” he groans, you hear that damned shuffle again, his hand half hazardly tugging his shaft again. “been thinkin’ bout you, girl.”

“katsuki,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “we. are. done. i dont want shit to do with you.”

“cmon, baby,” he whines, and you hear something wet in the background. you want to question him, but embarrassment flows your veins. “just hear me outtt..”

“im fuckin deaf then. hear no evil, see no evil.” you snip back, and he laughs. “i wont ask again, the fuck you want.”

“been thinkin bout you nd i,” he starts, and you hear it— hes fucking his own fist. “been thinking about what the hell we had and then— god, fuck..” he says lowly, you feel like hes just called for a quick fuck. “then how i ruined it entirely.”

“so.. you call to talk about how you miss me, meanwhile youve got your dick in yer hand?” you ask, and he sucks his teeth. “dont catch an attitude.”

“ ‘m not.. but.” he sighs, fondling his balls and he stutters. “i want you back.”

“youre drunk.”

“i mean that, mama..” he softly says. ‘mama,’ the nickname he gave you and how much you fell in love with it. “miss you like shit, when could i come see you?”

“the next time i post myself.” you say snarky, and he gets really quiet. “i dont know, katsuki. i did move a little further away.”

“thats fine, ill make the commute.” he feels his nipples harden, and he moans a little when he quickens his pace. “fuckfuckfuck—fuck..” he chants, his conscious mind slipping in and out. “want you so bad, baby,” he chokes out, “you hear how fuckin riled you get me?”

you want to pull your panties to the side and help him come, you remember those times youd both walk in on each other and just watch each other play with your nerves.

“ fuck, send me your location.” he says, so close to his tipping point and you can hear it. “lemme see you, baby. miss that pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

“youre drunk, boy.” you mumble, but he groans. “maybe sometime this week?”

“ugh,” he sighs, practically teasing himself with the slow and mean tugs from his dickhead. “at least let me see that pussy over the phone, need it so bad.” he says, a chuckle from his lips, “cant come to any other woman, just that little pretty pussy of yers..”

“im on my period, bakugou.”

“uh uh, thats not my name baby.” he snickers, “what happened to me bein yer’ daddy, huh? did you forget that much?” he feels it coming on him, creeping. that orgasm that was so close and he wanted nothing more than to cover your face white. “shitt.. just call me that, please. want to be your big daddy again— and ill fuck you slow nd’ stupid.”

you ponder on it, your fingertips slowly creeping to your panties. “what do i get in return?”

“me, a fat cock inside that needy pussy, and a redo.” he was borderline pleading, but he needed you so bad.

you hum, pulling your sticky panties away from your cunny. “you like me calling you big daddy, huh?” you tease , hearing his low but obvious growl from his throat. “take that as a yes.”

“fuck, that shouldve been yer face i just came on.” he sighs, moving his hand to wipe the sweat away from his brow. “send me your location tomorrow.” he demands, hearing you chuckle and then the end call tone. “fucking— girl..”

“missed you that badly, didnt he?” hitoshi asks, looking up at you through your thighs. “be a good girl and admit that you miss him.”

“i.. i do.” you mumble, hearing his slurps and suckles at your thighs. “toshi!”

“didnt even have to use my quirk.” he chuckles, his lazy eyes and eyebags bore into you. “fuck, how could he let this pussy free? poor thing.”

“he’s gonna be so pissed.” you groan, covering your eyes. “you know he hates you.”

“so? shouldnt have let me catch you.”

𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅 2024.

[kandlewick]

janitor yuu au! kalim who is finally able to travel back home for the holidays since he wasn't able to during winter break due to... circumstances quite literally out of his control. jamil is also with him and regardless of the twos still rocky relationship, they're both wiling to have some kind of truce while visiting family.

and now kalim finds himself at a loss as everything he's so used to doing for himself is now being done on his behalf. instead of the same few outfits to rotate through, now he has servants waiting at his beck and call to garb him in a brand new outfit every day, each more luxurious then the next. food is now brought to him, fresh and warm and spiced to perfection but he feels selfish now to admit he misses the way you cooked, with the slightly burned ends and the faint taste of plastic from the tupperware. he misses the familiar fabric of his now worn out cardigan. the close weaving had begun to separate and he had just started being able to fit his fingers through the yarn and it wrapped around his fingers so securely it felt like a warm hug.

he felt selfish here, laying on his fancy bed with the canopy and thick comforter, pillows galore, because despite being back in luxury, he missed the familiarity of the ramshackle dorm and the janitor and grim. he missed having choices. he missed having control.

jamil finds him sneaking out in the middle of the night and he reluctantly follows, his footsteps light as the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

everything was quiet now, the servants having been long dismissed, and kalim felt himself let out a sigh of relief. nobody was there to stop him. with an almost excited pep to his step, he made his way in to the heavily stocked pantry and began his search. he felt bad, but the food that was given to him for dinner was too rich, it made his stomach hurt, and he found that his palette wasn't as fond of fancier food now that he's had the simpler things.

"you're not going to find anything like what the janitor has stored away in ramshackle if that's what you're looking for."

the sound of jamil's voice startled kalim enough that he slammed his head against a shelf. his hands immediately flew up to cradle his skull and he let out a sharp whine. he looked up at jamil with tears in his eyes but brightened when he saw him leaving against the door frame, arms crossed with a familiar unamused expression on his face. kalim was quick to straighten himself to his full height and gave his friend(?) a nervous smile. no matter how jamil felt about him, kalim couldn't help but think of him as his closest friend in spite of everything.

"ah, uhm! i figured!" kalim let out a small laugh. his hands reached to nervously fidget at the loose yarn of his cardigan but found nothing, only the silky smooth fabric of a new shawl over his shoulders. the thinness of it left him feeling exposed. "all the food the servants made was really good but i felt it was a bit too much! ever since i've lived in ramshackle, i've gotten so use to eating—"

"you're so use to eating scraps now that you decided to raid the servant's kitchens to see if you could find something to reassure yourself that you weren't 'becoming spoiled' again?" jamil's tone was icy again, like from back when they argued, and kalim felt himself unintentionally shrinking in on himself. jamil continued, "and then, because you dont know the first thing about anything, you were going to get me to make whatever silly thing the janitor could scrounge up with left over tuna and some eggs so you could sit in the kitchen and eat it up and think to yourself 'wow im such a good person, having learned to enjoy the simpler things in life' all while going back to your room and sleeping like a little baby, safe and cuddled up in your several thousand thaumark sheets, spoiled rotten beyond belief—"

"you're right," kalim nodded, "i am spoiled."

"but i've also learned how meaningless a lot of this is." kalim's shoulders slumped, "did you know that there were servants whose entire job was to make sure my bathwater wasn't too hot or too cold? I didn't," he laughed, "i just thought the water came out perfect every time."

he remembered his first cold shower in ramshackle and how he sneezed and sneezed and sneezed. he remembered how the janitor had made him some chalky hot cocoa to help warm himself up and that it was the tastiest thing he had had all day. he remembers them wrapping him up in several ratty blankets and reassuring him that he would get use to it.

"the first cold shower is always the worst. so is the second. and so is the third. but eventually it will be ok."

"is it ok for you?"

the janitor hadn't said anything then, only offered him a small smile and a shrug before grim stole their attention away from him.

kalim blinked. he was back in the present.

"i spent my whole life having someone do everything for me and i thought that it was normal. that it was ok because i didn't know how to do anything properly and i didn't! but nobody would let me try. nobody let me fail. the only person who ever trusted me with my own choices was them."

"if i even so much as picked up a bread knife, you or some other servant would pluck it from my hands. saying things like, 'oh thats too dangerous for you' or 'don't worry kalim i've got it handled.' and i've suffered because of it!" he looked down at his hands and finally felt a sense of comfort in the cheap, colorful band aids that were wrapped around his fingers. burn marks, cuts, bruises, all things he never got to experience here in the palace or even in his own dorm.

his choices, his own choices.

"i am spoiled, jamil, you're right, but unlike you, i want to change. im tired of having everyone do everything for me. i want to cook my meals and make my own bed. i want to study hard and succeed where i let myself fail because i knew i had you to count on. i want to be able to rely on myself, jamil so if you'll excuse me im going to make a tuna and butter sandwich on stale bread."

[witherby]

Everyone immediately folding to mouse is adorable

Omg mousey that’s so cute

Ooooo imagine everyone’s reactions if mouse gets bullied when they’re older

-🪼

That's an excellent thought experiment! Let's play around with that scenario!

What would everyone do if you were being bullied at school?

Featuring: a black eye, a concerned/angry Batfamily, a doting Justice League, and a kid who fucked around and is about to find out.

Alfred:

He's the information collector. He's calling the school. He's asking to see the footage from the incident that sent you home with a black eye. He's firing your body guard. He's reigning in your youngest brother so he won't storm the elementary school and start throwing down with every adult in sight. He's fetching the cold compress and extra blankets. He's prepping your favorite snacks. Anything you require, Flittermouse, you just need ask. Grandpa is livid, but he's also keeping everybody's lids from blowing.

Bruce:

He's walking right out of an important meeting (like, multi-billion with a B dollar investment type of meeting) and driving straight home to assess the damage. Daddy's here, let him see, tell him what happened, Mouse. Bruce stays home for the rest of the day with you, honestly kind of overdoing it with the fussing and babying, but his arms are so secure around you and his heartbeat in your ear is so steady, which you love. In the short bursts of time he lets you go, it's to call Commissioner Gordon to pursue charges against the school and the family of the kid that gave you a shiner. He doesn't need Batman for this; Daddy's got it handled.

Dick:

No worries allowed! No tears allowed! Big Bro Dicky is all smiles and distractions. When Bruce gets too suffocating, he's there to take over and take you someplace fun. You wanna hit up the playground? Done and done, hop in his car. You want ice cream from that one vendor downtown? Sure, get the biggest size and as many flavors as your tummy can fit. Bet that nasty bruise doesn't hurt as bad with all these cool distractions, huh? It's mind over matter, Flitty. You'll be okay, pinky promise.

Tim:

Your cool brother Tim's orchestrating the narrative. What do you want, Mouse? You want that kid expelled? He can do it, say the word. You want him just suspended for a couple days? Done. Easy work. Child's play. You want him to systematically ruin his and his parents' social standings among the Gotham Elite until their names are worth little more than the dirt under the boots of this city? Because he can do that, too. If you want. No biggie. Oh, you just want to be cuddled and marathon Bluey for a while? Hell yeah, M, settle in, we're using the theater room for this. He'll whisper cool facts about the show to you in between the credits while you share the popcorn.

Jason:

Your actually cool brother is gonna ruffle your hair and give you a pep talk about bullies, conflict resolution, and the best ways to handle a situation like this if it ever happens again. He's also gonna teach you how to throw the nastiest right hook anybody's ever seen. With the right technique you could fell a grown fuckin' man, Mousey. Just cause that's your nickname doesn't mean you have to have the matching demeanor. You're gonna come back from this with your chin up and, if need be, your fists clenched. You don't have to pick up the vigilante mantle to avoid becoming a victim. Maybe he'll... also buy you a stuffie and teach you how to milk your injury for extra goodies, whatever. All his tips and tricks don't need to be based in violence!

Damian:

Oh man. This boy's got no chill when it comes to you, for real. He's spent so many years being the baby of the family and that was never a title he wanted. Now here comes you, who used to be an actual, literal baby, growing up faster than anybody wants, and you've come home hurt? Give him the name of the pathetic whelp that dared lay a hand against you, Flit. He'll make them pay dearly. He's your big brother. He's your protector. He's come to love you like a blood sibling, and he won't stand for any injustice committed against you. Damian's hands are rated E for Everyone; he'll punch out a child without hesitation and make them wish they'd never even thought about touching you.

Of course, the Justice League is your family, too! They used to look forward to seeing Bruce bring you to the Watchtower in your little car seat and portable playpen. They come to all your birthday parties. They're your aunties and uncles through and through.

Hal:

Uncle Hal (who eventually becomes your step-dad Hal, or Papa) is sympathetic. He used to get into fights at school, too. His more down-to-earth advice for dealing with the problem — ironic, considering his intergalactic occupation — is really helpful. Sometimes you just need a comforting squeeze, a kiss on the forehead, and a classic everything will be A-okay, kiddo. You just gotta take life one step at a time and don't let it keep you down. 10/10 most reasonable and normal reaction to the whole thing, honestly.

Diana:

Y'know I think she's only slightly more chill about it than Damian. She's infuriated that any mere mortal would dare harm your previous head. She's trying to convince Bruce to grant her temporary custody so she can take you to Themyscira for intensive warrior training. She's offering to end the bloodline of the soul that caused you injury. She's commending your fortitude and the fact that a black eye isn't dissuading you from going back to school tomorrow. She will go to battle about it if you just ask.

Clark:

Baffled that children are this cruel. (<- This motherfucker was getting bullied way harder than you did when he was your age, but his invulnerability made it really easy to deal with and he just pretended to be hurt by his aggressors.) He's offering to fly you to the Kent family farm to hang out with the animals for a day in a nice, quiet environment. He's gonna give you a little pep talk like Hal did, but again, he's invulnerable, so it's going to sound disingenuous coming from Uncle Clark. It's the thought that counts, though. Thanks man.

Long story short: you're getting bullied and injured. It's blown just a little out of proportion, but you feel no less loved for it, and you can rest assured that it won't happen again.

[a-b-riddle]

You're not her...

I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.

Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...

So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?

The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.

Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.

In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.

Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost

John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.

And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.

After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.

You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.

It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.

[sailornymph]

Hihi!!! I would like to request the uchihas as older brothers maybe?? How they would be towards their younger sibling and such,, I hope you get what I mean!! Thank you anyhow💓

dear brother; uchiha men

synopsis — the uchiha men as older brothers

♡︎ madara uchiha

— madara and izuna are both incredibly protective, but with madara being oldest, he’s worst

— you’re stronger than most girls your age, but still weaker than him, meaning you need protection

— he helps you with training and self defense for when he isn’t around

— he’s the type to give you pep talks about how you are capable of being the strongest among your age group, if you work for it

— when izuna dies, he becomes even more protective, you aren’t even allowed to leave the compound without shinobi with you

— hates the idea of you dating, but only because he doesn’t want you with someone who is completely useless

— your outcome could end up being one of the two possibilities: he fakes your death, along with his, taking you with him. or, you get the news that he has died, and you become the next clan leader because other than izuna, you were the next person thought to be worthy enough of the title

— 6/10. he isn’t the worst, but he is too power driven. he knows that he is the best and he wants his youngest sister to be just like him. knowing the strength he and his siblings have, no one will ever be good enough, because they’re all weak

“y/n,” madara called out, making you gasp, pushing hikaki away to run, however izuna was in front of him in a flash, grabbing him.

“izuna, let him go,” you pleaded.

“you’ve been missing all evening, had everyone worried, but you’ve been with this boy,” madara said, glaring at the boy.

“big brother, please,” you pouted.

“don’t look at her, you always give in,” madara said to izuna.

“is this boy uchiha?” izuna asked you, his eyes on the boy, struggling in his arms.

“exactly, he doesn’t look like a uchiha to me, what did i tell you about outsiders?”

“brother-

“what did i tell you?”

“they’re weaker,” you held you head down in defeat.

“it is the truth, how could i trust this imbecile to protect our precious baby sister, when he can’t protect himself from this,” he said, easily putting the boy into a genjutsu.

izuna let the boy go and suddenly he screamed in agony, dropping to his knees. rushing to his aid, you tried to help him, but he held the look of fear in his eyes.

“madara, izuna,” you whined.

“promise you will stop seeing this pathetic little thing,” madara said, the look of disgust on his face.

“i promise, just stop it,” you cried, relieved when hikaki relaxed.

“now your end of the deal,” he said, making you glare at him.

“don’t glare, if you put this much energy into training, you would be the strongest person i knew,” he said, watching as you stormed off.

“you better go easy on the words, or you’ll get the silent treatment again,” izuna said, leaving to catch up with you to apologize.

“silent treatment? y/n, you wouldn’t ignore your dear brother would you? i just want you with a strong uchiha,” he explained, his jaw dropping, realizing you hadn’t turned to him yet, and kept walking with izuna.

“y/n, as your oldest brother, i demand you stop this now,” he called out, trying to catch up with you.

♡︎ itachi uchiha

— the most caring big brother, like the literal best

— he’s the oldest, while sasuke is the youngest, leaving you in the middle, but he is very attentive to you, so you never feel left out as the middle child

— you follow his footsteps of working for the anbu, and he requests that you be placed on his team. when his dangerous mission is brought up, a task that is too big of a burden for a child, he takes it anyway. you overhear everything waiting on him outside of the office. exiting, he looks at you, knowing that you most likely heard, and from your look alone, knows that you will leave with him

— he doesn’t want you to carry the burden, so he tells you, if you plan to leave with him, to wait outside of the compound, while if you want, you could stay with sasuke

— leaving with him means leaving your life as a shinobi behind because he will not allow you to join akatsuki with him, instead he implies that you are weak to tobi, how he hardly let you kill anyone on your missions, so that you seem uninteresting. instead, he helps you get a comfortable home and job to begin building your life someplace new

— he’s not over protective, he knows you can take care of yourself. however, he does not tolerate disrespect towards his baby sister

— visits in between missions, at first it was typical activities, bringing him dangos that you made before his arrival, telling him about your week, while he sulks. as his health declines, it usually involves you taking care of him to some degree

— despite getting sick, he tries to hide it and continue old activities, cooking, piggybacking, or reading

— leading up to his death, he suggests that you make your presence known to sasuke and at least act like he forced you to come along with him

— 8.5/10. even after everything he had to do, he tried to remain that same big brother as before the incident. even as he planned for his death, he wanted you and sasuke to reunite, even if it gave his baby brother a another reason to be mad at him

carefully sitting each dango stick on the plate, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. itachi usually came around this time. pouting, you felt your eyes watering, as you thought of your last conversation.

“i want you to do a favor for me”

“what is it?”

“go back to konoha, or at least that way, to run into sasuke”

“why-

“when you see him, i want you to tell him that i forced you to leave with me, that night,” he said, his head low. this became a regular position for him, since beginning to lose his sight.

“itachi”

“could you do that for your dear brother?”

“and what about you?”

“i knew what i signed up for,” is all he said, he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

it had been over two weeks, since receiving the news that he was now dead. the numbness was settling in, but your brain couldn’t seem to accept the truth. you still continued preparing your home, as if he would show up. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. you couldn’t believe part of you expected to see itachi, waiting with a small gift in his akatsuki cloak, as usual. however, what you didn’t expect to see was sasuke.

opening the door, you stared with widened eyes, unable to believe what you were seeing. he had grown so much taller.

“sasuk-

you were interrupted by him pulling you into his arms. you could feel the wetness on your shoulders from his tears.

“how did you find me?”

“tobi,” he said, making your eyes widened.

“you know the truth”

“even itachi’s plans for you,” he said.

“i couldn’t, you were already so angry with him, i couldn’t give you another reason to hate him, when he loved everyone so much,” you cried.

“i wish i could go back-

“don’t, itachi was at peace, he loved you so much, but he was sick and suffering and he can now rest,” you reassured him.

“and what about you? what was your reason for leaving?”

“after all of the things he had done, he needed someone there for him too, we knew you would have friends, we were always different from everyone, but you were always a likable boy, and we were right,” you lightly smiled, wiping your eyes.

“those are not my friends, they’re uh teammates, is that dango?” he asked, nervously.

“yes, would you like some? come, make yourself at home, tell me how life has been for you, baby brother,” you said, sitting the plate in front of him. maybe you could fulfill itachi’s dying wish.

♡︎ indra ōtsutsuki

— there is a 50/50 chance of how you’re treated, but either way it is toxic

— if you’re closer to asura then he will torment you, so steer clear of his path

— however, if you are closer to him, he will hold on to you, in his eyes, you’re the only person who sees his worth

— he’s practically yandere

— he’s protective, very protective, no one is worthy of your presence or attention, not even friends or family

— father wants you to train, well he will train you, he is the strongest anyway

— don’t even think of dating, everyone is beneath you both. he wouldn’t say it to your face, but he’ll beat them all in fights, he’ll scare them away, all you need is your big brother to love you anyway

— 3/10. he loves you so much, but if you're close to him, he will turn you against your family to side with him and your fate will be the same as his.

“indra, have you seen y/n?” the boy hesitantly backed away, being met with a glare.

“why?”

“i asked him to ask, no need to attack the child,” asura chuckled, patting the boy’s back, watching as he ran off.

“what do you want with y/n?”

“she is my baby sister too, you know,” asura smiled, but he was met with a straight face.

“i was hoping to talk to her, father wants to make sure her training is going well, and for me to-

“don't worry about her training, i will take care of it”

“how is she actually?”

“she hurt father, moving out without a word, and she hasn't said anything to him since,” he continued.

“i’ll bring it up,” indra mumbled, relieved when asura stopped following him, as he entered his home.

“big brother? welcome home,” you smiled, as he softly knocked at your door, letting himself in.

“what did you do today?” he asked, sitting next to you.

“i worked on the garden, it is finally coming together”

“that is great, no one tried talking to you, did they?”

“no, they always stay away, like something is wrong with me”

“nothing is wrong with you, it is them,” he reassured.

“we will start back your training tomorrow, father wants to see how much you’ve grown,” he continued, watching as you squealed excitedly.

“i can’t wait”

“would you ever leave here? i mean, you’re getting so much stronger, any plans for marriage or if your friend-

“oh my dear brother, i told you, i am on your side, through thick and thin,” you reached for his hand, smiling as he gave it a light squeeze.

“good”

♡︎ obito uchiha

— it was always just the two of you, even when your grandmother took you both in. when she passed away, it was just as it was before

— he becomes a shinobi, but wants you to live a normal life. everything is fine until you receive news that obito is dead

— for months, you’re grieving, kakashi stopping by, when he can, until one night obito returns. he’s here to take you away from this village. naturally you go with him, he’s all you have after all

— over the years, obito gets even stronger and you are suspicious of his line of work, but you don’t question it because he has never changed the way that he treated you

— he has always encouraged you to chase your dreams, despite being unable to fulfill his own. you want to open a small cafe, he is doing everything in his power to make that happen

— you find him very annoying as tobi. he explained partially why he had to wear a disguise, but you hated how he acted. so goofy and unserious, you preferred the very serious obito, you could come to about anything

— he’s very protective, he doesn’t want the world to hurt you, like it did to him

— please don’t date, you’re just a kid to him in his eyes. he will whine and nag about how you’re too young, no matter how old you get. he just wants you to be content being his baby sister, although, he knows it’s selfish

— 8.7/10.despite being the sibling of a criminal, he does a very good job at concealing that life from you, continuing to love you as hard as before. after his death, kakashi finds you personally explaining everything and how in the end, obito had a change of heart. which makes you smile because you always knew what kind of person he was on the inside

entering the small cafe, in a unusual disguise, his eyes widened, seeing itachi uchiha, sitting at a table, eating dango. he watched as you approached him with another small plate.

“hi sir, these are on the house”

“i couldn’t”

“i insist, you’re one of my regulars and i am appreciative,” you blushed as he thanked you, accepting the plate. walking back to the counter, you tried biting back your smile.

“have you decided what you want sir?” you asked, nodding as he shook his head. he stood waiting, watching as you blushed, repeatedly glancing at itachi. he was too old for you. well, he actually wasn’t, you were a few years older, but still.

hearing the chair pull out, you glanced over, bowing and thanking him for coming, before you went to get the plates. with the cafe now empty, he removed his disguise.

“obito?” you widened your eyes at him, as you walked to the small kitchen, as he followed you.

“you are attracted to that man”

“you make it sound like something weird. he’s nice and really cute. he looks like he could be a uchiha too,” you blushed, making him roll his eyes.

“he could be a mass murder for all you know, and why are you giving him free dango? you need all the money you can get,” he told you, crossing his arms.

“he likes dango, and he always leaves extra money. if you were upset about that dear brother, i can make you a batch of dango,” you began to walk away, when he reached for you arm.

“just wait until i am dead to date anyone, it stresses me out too much to know my baby sister is growing to longer be a baby any more, it hurts me,” he said, making you hug him.

“aww obito, i have no plans on dating right now, not when i have a business to run and i said he was cute, not that i wanted to marry him. also, i’ll always be your baby sister, no matter how old we get,” you said, smiling as his tense body relaxed at your words.

♡︎ sasuke uchiha

— probably the most normal out of the group

— itachi kills the clan and leaves the two of you alive

— despite his wild emotions, he tries his best to maintain normality with you. joking around, piggyback rides, making treats together

— younger sasuke is convinced you both are better than everyone else and when he’s free, he teaches you a few things he learned from kakashi

— early on, he kind of expects you to stay under his wing. kids are asking you to play with them, he’ll say let’s leave and kind of expects you to come with him. he can’t risk losing you too

— he is super protective, he doesn’t even like if someone implies something distasteful about you, however, it changes as he changes

— when he leaves the hidden leaf, he leaves you, telling you to let go, as you hold onto him, crying begging him to stay, or at least take you with him, he says no and reassures you that you can go to sakura or kakashi for anything

— while he may have had a problem with you having a crush as a child, by the time you are teenagers, he doesn’t care anymore because he has more important things to worry about

— once he is on his road to redemption, he feels guilty about how he was towards you. he was so focused on getting revenge, that he neglected his last relative alive

— 9/10. he has made mistakes in his life, but despite what he thinks, he has been a great brother. with a bit of reassurance, you can restore your bond

slipping on your shoes, just as you opened the door, you were surprised to see sasuke, his hand up about to knock.

“sasuke, when did you get back?” you said, as his shoulders relaxed.

“this morning, i was with sarada,” he explained.

“did you get to see her in action, she wants to be hokage, doesn’t that remind you of someone?” you smirked.

“yes,” he agreed.

“would you like to join me for lunch? i’m having onigiri,” you asked, as his cheeks reddened, shyly nodding his head.

“how-how have you been?” he asked, turning his head.

“i’m okay, i spend my weekends with sakura and sarada and my b-friend,” you stuttered, catching his attention.

“a friend from the academy?”

“no, he’s from another village,” you shook your head.

“he? how long have you been friends with him?”

“well, we’ve been together for about four months-

“together?”

“he's-he is my boyfriend, i wanted to let you meet him, to make sure he was sasuke approved, but i wasn't sure you'd want to do such a thing”

“i-i don't mind y/n, is my opinion important to you?”

“of course, it is, if my dear brother thinks he is terrible, then i have my answer because you're the coolest guy i know,” you said, lightly bumping his shoulder.

“then i will meet him,” he nodded.

“great, i'll tell him tomorrow, try not to scare him too much”

“how can he be the one, if he is scared easily?”

“you have a point, so will you eat some cake with him today,” you nearly laughed at the frown appearing on his face. he hated sweets.

“don't be gross”

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: During your shift you overhear a conversation that kind of sends you spiraling.

Warnings: Language, angst, self-esteem issues, hurt with MAJOR comfort, and protective Steve.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,924

A/N: Just a little something, cause’ I’m on my period and feeling it…

You aren’t acting like your usual self - zero pep in your step, no smiles from anything or for anyone. Steve doesn’t expect that from you all of the time, but he can sense something is majorly wrong. You simply give him a whispered hey as you climb into the beemer’s passenger, buckling your seatbelt and lowering your gaze to the small wallet you’d brought with you today. It’s when he leans across the console, leather creaking under his movements, to kiss you - that he is for surely locked in on something being up with you. You’re pulling yourself away from his lips before they can even touch your cheek.

At the start of your relationship, Steve was always doing checklists, to see if you were unnerved about, even the smallest of things (which never had anything to do with him, half the time, as he found out). He tried to go over what he could’ve done wrong, how he needed to fix that. But as the trust with the new stage of your relationship grew, the romance had cemented itself - Steve felt like he had to do this less and less with you. You were a team - secure and honest.

You, however, are caught into the expanse of your head, strangled by those vines that are always undoing themselves from their silence to torment you. Copious, self-negative, berating thoughts that are meant to tear you apart. You manage to see Steve frown in your peripheral, which makes your lips part in an attempt to start your explanation. He’s more than ready to receive.

“Hey, Harrington. You have a few minutes?”

That same sugary, sickly sweet voice from minutes prior. You and your boyfriend both look in time to see her blond hair lean into the window, arms propped, pink lined lips speaking, bangles accentuated on her thin wrists, and the overpowering scent of her fruity perfume. Your chest burns with the nerve of her, throat watering with unshed tears — your body feeling as if it’s slipped a flight of stairs for everyone to witness, see your smoldering humiliation as it crackles across your chest. Old Steve might be cocky, might even be rude. But your best-friend turned boyfriend - he is no longer that way.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” He’s a little hesitant, his focus coming back onto you. His knee juts from his foot bouncing on the floor, eager to leave her over bearing interjection into your conversation. He’s pissed at her and her friend standing idly nearby, as you begin to shut down what you were about to open up to him about.

Her friend giggles from beside her and you audibly swallow, using your pinky to play with the newest charm Steve had added to your bracelet (a little baseball glove, because you’re always ‘catching his heart’). It’s your tell-tale nervous sign, he’s aware. The girl in the window starts talking again before he can say anything. She shows off neon pink talons for nails, pearly whites grinning at Steve. “I just got these done about a half an hour ago. And something is wrong with my car, so I obviously need to pop the hood, but I don’t want to ruin them. Like, you know what I mean?”

The eye roll that leaves you, all emotions aside, Steve is amused by. He reaches for your hand, and you let him squeeze. “Do you mind, baby? I’ll just pop the hood and they can call someone if it needs something else done.”

This makes you feel a little better, the girl having to hide her displeasure underneath her smile, which turns into a smirk as Steve exits the car and follows them to her convertible. She makes a show in her tight tube top and jean shorts, not getting to the hood immediately. You only imagine what they’re saying to Steve. But you do remember what they’ve just said about you.

“I mean, he picks her up daily and I don’t even think she offers him gas money.”

You’d stopped organizing the front candy counter to lean around and listen in. Steve picks you up everyday, never asking for anything return - even if you always offer. They have to mean you, right? Your breath had started quickening, focus wavering. The rush of burgundy is within your sights as he pulls up storefront, shades on, head tilted back, arm out the window with a cigarette in hand.

“He’s dating her though, so why would she?”

“Please. He needs to be asked if he is. I don’t buy it, at all. I mean, Nancy Wheeler was a goody two shoes, but at least she was pretty. Buckley is a fucking motor mouth, but she’s also okay.”

Former insecurities when you got together. Even as a friend as you crushed on him, these thoughts had plagued you. You were heated, body light.

“He never dated Buckley.”

A deep sigh. “Obviously, but he clung to her like a puppy. He’s downgraded with this one. She’s been hanging on him for years and I don’t know if he warrants it or just tolerates it.”

Don’t make any noise, don’t say a word. You should stop listening, say something. All things that you didn’t do, just kept listening to them dump on you.

“She’s the real reason Harrington struck out all the time. WHO the fuck wants to date someone that allows a loser like that to be attached to their hip non-stop? I mean, is it a kind, charitable thing to do? Sure. But he needs to draw a line between the good and the bad, babe.”

Your dress had felt to tight on your body - one you wore to surprise Steve today. Excited to be with him for the weekend, casting aside conflicting schedules. Your face became dull, heartbeat slowing, eyes glossing over. You swore you could taste the acidic bile of breakfast on your tongue.

“She’s been that ugly two for one special, kills all of his chances by hanging around him. The real reason he struck out so much.”

You turn your back to the conversation, despite still having been able to hear it. No use in trying to block it out, for it had found you in surround sound.

“Didn’t he ask you on a date, Chelsea? And you turned him down?”

She scoffed. “My point exactly. She makes him less appealing. He’s just with her because he thinks that he should be, and because she’s the one that’s around him too much. He peaked in high school, but she’s certainly holding that fine ass of his back. Can you imagine the sex he’s wasting on that?”

You’re so caught up in your momentary memories, that you don’t even see Steve as he piles back into the car, his entire body lax, but his shoulders tense. His face holds a reserved softness for you. His voice, though, that takes on an entirely different undertone of mixed meanings - somewhere between a raging anger and a featherlight craving to provide solace. He’s saying something that takes you a few seconds to catch up with, your blurred vision noticeable. It confirms his suspicions that he’d accumulated by being hit on at the girl’s car.

“They came from your store, didn’t they? What did they say to you?” He sighs, trying to let that show, so that you don’t mistake it for annoyance.

“It’s… nothing. I’m okay.“

“Baby…” The way it’s practically pled, it makes you look at him. You meet concerned, slightly widened, mossy eyes, sun reflected in the enriching pools. His grown out caramel hair is a mess, shades pushed back to sit atop, his sun kissed skin visible through his white Kenny G shirt, along with overgrown chest hair, his chain length bracelet and neck chain (a gift from you for his latest birthday), and his ripped jeans he’d cut to make capri shorts.

He definitely shouldn’t be yours.

You reach to fiddle with the chain, that nervous habit back again. And Steve settles into your touch as it drums across his jugular. He tilts his head to kiss to the side of your fingers when they brush by. You pause to retreat, but he’s swift to take your hand in his, playing with your bracelet this time. How massive he looks in comparison.

You feel a calloused finger brush beneath your chin, bringing it up. His eyes are darting back and forth across your face. “Tell me what they said to you. I know that’s why you’re upset.”

“Were they talking about me?” Immediate humiliation settles in.

He’s quick to correct. “No, no. I just mean that when they started in with the flirting after I opened the hood, I was uncomfortable and I know you were. And I also remember that they did come from the video store, too.”

Your voice breaks and he slides his spare hand to your neck’s nape, bringing your forehead to his as you begin to tell him everything that was said. Safe to say, he’s NOT happy by the time that you’re finished, and he does a double take to look for their car. It’s already gone and he curses. “Shit. That’s fucking bullshit!”

He can’t fathom the process that he went through as you told him each and every single word heard. His tongue is tied, he wants to plead with you to know that it’s not true, that all of those things have NEVER been like that. There’s only one truth. And so, he tries with all his heart to explain it to you.

“God, honey, you have to know that when I’m with you, I don’t see anything else, can’t see anyone else. For years, it’s always just been you. I don’t care about who I was before. The man I am now, he wants his life to be with yours. He’s pretty gone on you, like in a stupid, I’ll almost die for you again, even when you tell me not to - kind of way, and probably more.”

Your heart rate has started speeding up again, caught beneath your breastbone, trying to find your throat, but can’t get through its tightness. You’re openly crying now, to which Steve solves by thumbing away, the bridge of his nose nudging yours, mouth laying his next statement in to cross. “Words, they’re not my strong point, you know that. But I want you to know that I’d learn a fucking dictionary in every single language if it meant I could tell you in better terms, how much you mean to me, how perfect you are, how beautiful, funny, and smart, how sexy, how tough, how loyal, how honest, how creative, how strong, and so much fuckin’ more... How what they said was the farthest thing from the truth, that they’re just jealous, airheaded bimbos.”

You let your palms find his face, the ache in your body causing a prickling in your toes. You’re pliant against his chest as he unbuckles your belt and his, pinching your waist and using his forearm to halfway hoist you middle way over the console to meet his mouth, all the while he’s whispering between every kiss, “I love you. I love you. So fucking much. I love you, honey.”

You don’t have to stop kissing to tell him that you love him back. Steve can feel it in the way that you hold onto him, tears changing, rolling from your cheeks and dripping onto his lips. I love you.

[luveline]

Ok but can you imagine if bombshell!reader who is pregnant does fall down somewhere?? Everyone, Spencer very much so, freaks out and she tries to play it off cool even though she’s really sore. She and baby are ok but she and Spencer are definitely shaken up by this and he’s even more hover-y from this 😭🥲

ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader falling and panicking lovely bf spencer, 1.3k

“We’re like, the dream team,” you say, sewing your arm through the crook of Spencer’s. He’s trying to zip up your jacket, which is difficult given the ever-growing curve of your stomach. With one arm, it’s hopeless. 

“We are,” he murmurs obligingly, thinking about how cold it is outside and how you’ve yet to give in to the ‘ugly-fest’ of maternity clothes at work. It’s a shame. You look adorable in them at home. “Maybe you should put on your hoodie.” 

“It’s fine, it’s like, three steps between the station and the hotel.” You smile at him. He loves your eyes, your lashes, and he forgets to be stern. 

“Let’s go, then.” He waves at Emily where she’s chatting with an officer. “You ready?” he asks. 

Penelope pops her head out of the office with her laptop bag tucked under her arm. “Let’s go home, my chickens.” 

You and Spencer devolve into one of your murmured conversations, giggling, pressed arm to arm as you and the team emerge from the warmth of the police station and into the cold winter air. It’s sub zero outside, Spencer’s sure, wanting to get you back out of the elements as quickly as possible. 

He takes the steps first and holds out his hand a few beneath. Emily laughs, says, “He’s so chivalrous,” to Penelope’s delight. 

“He’s always been our gentleman,” Penelope says. 

You look eager to agree. “He’s my prince,” you tease gently, taking his hand, leaning just a little too far forward. 

Your foot slips out from underneath you with a sound like a knife scraping the snow. You fall hard and fast, and the horror is that your one leg trips more than the other and you end up slamming flat on your side. 

Spencer has you up again before the slush can so much as wet your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes go wider than he’s ever seen them and your lips struggle down into an immediate frown, a wobbly expression, alarm in your voice as you say, “Oh, woah.” 

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” Penelope asks, she and Spencer rushing down to the bottom of the steps to meet you. 

“Sit her down, Spencer,” Emily says quickly, not scornful or anything but her concern turning her tone hard. 

“It’s wet,” he says, as his head bubbles up with horrible statistics. 

“Spencer,” you say tightly, “I’m fine.” 

You don’t look fine. He yanks his suit jacket off and drops it to the floor, a write off, he and Penelope encouraging you to sit on the bottom step. Your eyes are filled with tears, he suspects from panic and pain at once, and he doesn’t really know what to do in this situation for a second, he has to think back. It’s hard to think and hold your hands at the same time. 

“It’s okay,” he says, enthusing his voice with false pep. 

“What should we do?” Penelope asks, quicker to panic than the rest of you. 

Spencer bends down in front of you. You’re the only person that matters in that moment. “What hurts?” he asks, hand hovering over your side. “Does anything hurt?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, before shaking your head, “What about–” You cut yourself off. “Yeah.” 

Spencer takes your wrist. “I’m gonna call Dr. Cordell right now. Okay? Just as a precaution. That’s what you’re supposed to do, okay?” 

“I think I hurt my hip,” you say smally. 

With some help from the girls, Spencer gets you back to the hotel. He calls your doctor, and they decide to get you an emergency check up with an antenatal doctor he knows while you’re still out of state. It feels less panicky and more dread while you wait, but the appointment goes well, and you’re given the all clear a few hours after your fall. 

You’re uncharacteristically quiet at the hotel. Spencer asks if you’re alright and you say, “Of course,” while he spends the rest of the evening watching you wince. 

It’s getting ready for bed where he finally gets you to crack for him. You’re not expecting to be sore, that much is clear, and you’re bashful asking for his help. “I can’t get my shirt over my head,” you say from the bathroom, with no need to shout. He can hear you from his not so casual seat at the foot of the bed. 

He lost his tie a few hours ago, and his suit jacket lays soggy in a plastic bag on top of his suitcase. He rolls his sleeves up as he eases into the small bathroom, eyes dropping to the naked bump of your stomach where your shirt is pooled. You have a yellowy bruise taking form on your hip. Another on your bump, like the lines of the stone steps. 

“Angel,” he murmurs, fingers glancing over the bruise gently. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” 

“You don’t have to lie.” 

You poke him. “Help me get changed, handsome.” You laugh at your demanding. “Please help me get changed.” 

“So rude,” he says. 

He grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it up your back and over the back of your head so as to not agitate your cut up elbow again. You sigh as he pulls it clean, leaving you shirtless and gorgeous in the bathroom, despite all your worrying. He should tell you. He can’t not tell you, really. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, taking your shoulders into his hands. 

“Even with the baby weight?” you ask. 

He rubs your arm. “You’ve never been this beautiful.” 

“Oh, no, don’t say that.” You cover his arm with yours, hand over his, fingers intertwining loosely. 

“You’re always…” He leans down. He’d been about to stop himself, but he continues, lips just an inch from yours, the two of you eye to eye. “Beautiful. I’m sorry about today, it was my fault.” 

“It was my fault.” 

“I should’ve been more careful, I knew it was cold enough for frost.” 

“I should’ve been more careful,” you say, frowning at him indignantly, “I know how fragile I am right now and I’m not being careful enough.” 

“You slipped,” he argues. It could only be an accident.

“What if she felt it?” you whisper. 

Spencer was trying to assuage your fears and he’d been planning on a kiss, but a hug feels more important in that moment, a careful loop of his arms under yours. His few inches of height over you are especially helpful in steering clear of your stomach. “She didn’t feel it, Y/N, I promise. You took the fall for her, and the doctor said everything is just fine. She didn’t even know it was happening, I swear.” 

You let out a long, slow breath. You nod into his should after a few moments. “Okay. Thank you for picking me back up, Spence.” 

“That was impressive, right?” 

You poke him some more as you let the entirety of your weight slouch into his front. “You’re quite impressive, Reid. I felt the muscle.” You kiss his neck, voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m okay.” He hasn’t realised how badly he needed reassurance too. 

“I know.” 

“Sorry if I was dramatic,” you say. 

“Dramatic?” he laughs, thumb on your neck drawing shapes. “You tried to tell me you were fine. That’s the opposite of dramatic.” 

“…Maybe I should slow down some. Maybe. Take some days off.” 

Spencer kisses the top of your head. “That could be nice. You’ve been bouncing around for months. We could just spend a couple of days laying down, right? You can try out some of those maternity pyjamas you’re so reluctant to wear.” 

“Why’d you buy so many?” 

“I’m trying to take care of you. I thought I’d finally be allowed,” he says. 

Your voice turns to a whisper. “You always take care of me, Spence. You really do.” 

[princessbellecerise]

Unexpected

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you take control on your wedding night

warnings | smut, oral (m. and f. receiving), f!dominate

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

When Jacaerys is first introduced to you, he thinks the absolute world of you

He adores you and believes you to be the epitome of a lady with your sweet smile and giggles that melt his heart

Absolutely nothing, nothing could have prepared the prince for your wedding night, when all of a sudden your innocent act is dropped and Jacaerys gets to see the real you, the one you’ve been dying to show him ever since your marriage was announced

And as soon as you get the prince alone, you pounce

Jacaerys had the entire room set up for the two of you and he even called off the bedding ceremony, thinking that someone as innocent as you should have privacy for their first time

Little did he know though, you were anything but innocent though you did still appreciate the gesture

You weren’t exactly as…pure as a lady should have been, and it was evident in the way you jumped on your new husband and immediately got to work

Hot, heavy kisses that you initiate nearly have Jace fainting on the spot, shocked when you take control and seemingly know exactly what to do

You’re shedding your clothes in no time, and along the way you’re barking out orders for Jace to undress, to touch you in places only a husband should, and the prince is so stunned that he can’t even react

His thoughts of you being this shy, innocent girl are immediately shattered the minute you wrap your mouth around him, pleasing him like a professional which has Jace moaning in no time

You love the way his face scrunches up, a mixture of confusion and desire clouding his features as you go down on him

You can tell your dominance and knowledge on what exactly to do in the bedroom shocks the hell out him, but honestly Jacaerys isn’t complaining

He quickly finds himself fascinated with you all over again, looking at you with stars in his eyes when he cums and you swallow every last drop

And as if the sight of you swallowing his seed wasn’t enough to rile him up again, Jace quickly becomes hard when you grab his cock and whisper how much you can’t wait to ride him

You take the poor, flustered prince’s hand and swipe his fingers between your folds, showing him how wet you are for him and Jace swears he’s in heaven

He’s not sure how the hell he completely missed this side of his new wife, but he’s certainly not complaining—not one bit

Lucerys Velaryon

Poor baby Luke is absolutely TERRIFIED for your wedding night and most of all he’s terrified of not being able to please you, his new wife

We all know he has severe anxiety so despite reading up on the topic of coupling and having one very long, very painful talk with Daemon before the wedding, Luke is still very much anxious and honestly has no clue what to do

You’re a couple years older than him which only makes his desire to please you even greater

He hypes himself up, gets a pep talk from Jace…and it turns out that Luke needs none of it because you’re on him the minute the bedroom door shuts

There is no bedding ceremony and no witness so you’re free to let loose and have fun with your new husband, who completely freezes when you pull him into kiss and press your (barely clothed) body against his

Poor Luke—all that stressing and he’s got absolutely nothing to worry about because you take reigns, talking him up and guiding him to do exactly what he wanted to do

He can’t lie, he’s a little shocked that you’re so good at this and it’s obviously not the first time you’ve done this. But honestly, Luke is just so relieved that one of you knows what you’re doing that he doesn’t even care. He just relaxes like you tell him to and enjoys the ride—literally

Poor boys is redder than a tomato when you first get naked for him, showing him your body and teasing the young prince

He’s a stuttering mess when your hands get to work undressing him, trying to form a coherent sentence but he can’t because he’s too excited and too nervous

He only nods and does the things you ask without question, but you can tell he’s absolutely losing it by the way he moans and turns to putty under your touch

You think it’s cute really to see him so eager to be with you, and Luke is such a sweetheart that he stops you from going down on his and offers to get you off instead

You’re so touched because even the older men you’ve been with have never been as gentle and kind as Luke. And with a little guidance, the young prince blows you away by exceeding your expectations

You never in a million years expected to come from just his tongue alone, but when you do, you’re shook to your core

And Lucerys (when he finally comes up for air) is looking at you with worried eyes wondering if he’s done something wrong, not knowing that he’s the first ever to make you orgasm

And just for that, you decide to finally give your husband the night of his life

Thanks to his tongue, it’s easy to slide yourself down onto his cock, smiling when the young prince can’t contain himself

He nearly dies and goes to heaven when you start riding him, and you know he’s not going to last long so you savor his sweet face and whisper in his ear how lucky you are to be married to him—and you’d be willing to bet anything that Lucerys absolutely feels the same

[spookysanta]

Chapter 5: Permission to Ruin Me.

Ongoing tags: [Modern Romance] [Slow Burn] to [Fireworks [Black!Reader] [Younger!Reader] [Reader is That Girl] [Obsessed Michael™] [So Much Eye Contact] [Vacation Fling] turns into [Something Real]

Potential TW/CW: [Swearing] [Light Sexual Tension] to [Eventual Smut]

Read Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

and now.. it is time. everybody make sure you got fresh draws on. all my heathens and sluts come to the front! chapter 6 is also done so i might - MIGHT - publish again tomorrow. tryna keep y'all waiting bc.. i love validationnnnn. anyway! enjoy my babies. don't forget to send me some asks, gonna be drafting some requests this week ;)

The next morning, there was a knock. The knock came just after breakfast – almost jarring, the sharpness of a fist against polished wood.

Before, you were still in the oversized tee you’d slept in, lazily brushing your teeth and half-scrolling your messages when the suite phone rang.

You heard Tati answer the phone from the common room. “Room 904.”

A pause.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let her know.”

You’d heard her hang up the phone, and before you could come out of the bathroom, she met you in the hallway.

“Just got off the phone with the concierge,” she said, not even bothering to greet you with a “good morning”, nor hide her suspicious smile. “There’s something coming for you.”

When the knock came, you met the bellhop at the door.

He handed you a white matte box, tied in black ribbon. It was minimal, with no branding. Just your name, handwritten, and a note tucked beneath the bow. The moment you closed the door, and meandered to the couch, the girls surrounded you like sharks in the water.

“Open it,” Lex said, already filming on her phone.

“What is it? What is it??” nagged Tati.

“He did not…”

“OH, he did.”

Inside the box were a stack of things that almost made the air leave your chest: a glass perfume bottle, a soft floral fragrance with a heat-heavy dry-down; a pair of gold hoop earrings – lightweight, diamond-cut, a gleam that caught the light like water; and nestled in satin paper, a handwritten note:

I want to take you out again. If the answer’s yes – wear the earrings. I’ll know. I want to listen to you. And if you’ll let me… I want to touch you. — M

You sat back against the couch’s cushion, your heart pounding in your ears.

Tati read it over your shoulder, shaking you with excitement. “Yes! Baby girl, he’s ready to worship. Get your mind right.”

–

You carefully pulled out your gifts to show to the girls. You felt like you were in school and it was your turn to do Show and Tell, and by the way your friends gasped in excitement, passing around the perfume to smell, this was a presentation for the ages. And of course, Tati made you read the note out loud. 

“You have to say yes,” Kris said immediately.

“I mean,” Nas added, “look at you right now. You’re already glowing and he hasn’t even seen you today.”

Lex spun her phone around. “Say the word and I’m curling your hair.”

Tati whispered, “If you don’t wear those earrings and get dicked down respectfully tonight, I will personally seduce him. I don’t even care that I’m married – that’s how serious I am.”

You tried to fight back a smile, failing miserably. But your voice was quiet. “I don’t think this is just a fling for him.”

They all went still.

“You really like him?” Nas asked gently.

You nodded once. “I.. I do. I really feel him.”

And suddenly, they weren’t screaming anymore. You could feel their gazes soften.

Tati took your hand and kissed the back of your palm, in the way that only she has since you were eight-years-old. “Then we got you.”

After a group pep talk, coupled with Kris reminding you to take your birth control – you did – and Nas calling her partner to fill her in on the drama, you got ready for another night out with Michael. Lex made good on her promise, styling your hair with a hairdresser’s precision, loose curls framing your collar. 

Tati picked your outfit – a copper-toned backless satin dress with gold lace-up stilettos to match the earrings that you were definitely wearing tonight. The dress had a draped collar, fabric ruched perfectly to show off your chocolate legs, and was completely backless. Tati dressed you with the intention of providing Michael with an “appetizer” of what was to come later.

Once you were fully dressed, you admired yourself in the mirror. And as much as you thought you were nervous about tonight, you found yourself buzzing all over with excitement. Though you’d only seen him a couple days ago, your hands were itching to be held. Your lips were begging to be kissed. 

He met you in the lobby, grinning like a schoolboy when you approached him. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he whispered “you wore them” in your ear like a vow. If nothing else didn’t lit a fire in your belly, that was the thing that did it. He ushered you in front of him, a hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you out front where a sleek, blacked out Cadillac Escalade was waiting.

The ride wasn’t long, but it felt like time slowed down when you pulled out of the lot. He filled you in on the last couple days of work, some new projects he’s planning, and most importantly, how excited he was to see you. 

The dinner spot was tucked down an alley. There was no signage – it was just a steel door and a man who nodded when Michael approached. The space had one table, one server, and a private chef’s tasting menu. 

The restaurant – if you could even call it that, you weren’t sure – was super intimate. The lights were dim and there was an R&B playlist that buzzed softly through the speakers that  accentuated the way his voice shifted when he got comfortable.

As you dined together, he didn’t work overtime to impress. Instead, he asked what made you laugh. How you learned to protect your joy. When the last time was that someone gave you the kind of attention that didn’t ask for anything back.

And honestly, you weren’t even sure how long the two of you sat there, but you were sure you didn’t want to leave.

–

As you pulled into the hotel’s carousel, he leaned over to peck your jaw, mumbling against your skin, “I already asked,” 

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled sneakily, showing you his phone.

You laughed sheepishly. “My friends are crazy.”

He nodded in agreement, with a chuckle, opening the door and helping you out of the truck. “I’ve gathered that.” 

Upstairs, the suite was quiet. It seemed the others were suspiciously gone – or hiding. And,  knowing your friends, they’re more likely to be doing the latter.

You guided him through your suite and to your room. You entered first, eyes set on his, the room lit low and soft with your perfume lingering in the air.

He began to follow you in, but stopped at the doorway. “You sure about this?”

You nodded quickly, probably having made the easiest decision of the whole trip thus far. “I want you to touch me.”

And without hesitation, you pulled your dress up over your head teasingly, tossing it elsewhere in the room. There, you stood before him, braless, thin black lace panties riding low on your hips, the middle soft and sheer.

His jaw clenched, eyes scanning your frame. He shut the  door and locked it with a swift motion, eyes not leaving your body. “Jesus,” he muttered, stepping forward.

You turned your back to him and climbed slowly onto the bed, looking over your shoulder, eyes beckoning him to you.

He didn’t hesitate to move forward. He approached the edge of the bed, previous softness and gentle care completely leaving the room as he ripped your panties down, dropping to his knees and pulling your lower half closer to him so your ass hung over the edge of the bed.

Then he spit right on your pussy. And as if he already knew how to work your body, he dragged his tongue through your slick before you could even register what he’d done. He ate you from behind in a way that you could’ve only dreamed of. His mouth was wet with a warmth that reached parts of your core that no one had ever tried to. He planted full-mouth kisses against your clit – slow at first, then focused, sucking your nub into his mouth and licking the mess back up with reverence, groaning at your taste.

He dragged two fingers through your wetness, “That for me?” he asked, clearly having known he’d gotten you in his clutches. “All this?”

You nodded, dazed, your “Mhm” sounding more like a moan than an actual response.

He hummed simply, gripping the back of your thighs and spreading you open, fully devouring you. It was sloppy and messy in the absolute best way, with lips sucking at full force and flicks of his tongue that made you clench the pillow under your chest like it owed you money.

You came without warning, fast and loud, your moans and his slurps being the only sounds in the room. He moaned gruffly against your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face, already eager to make you cum again.

“You’re shaking,” he said, using his thumbs to spread your hole open more, warm breath against your cunt. “You want more?”

You whimpered.

“Then beg.”

“I want it,” you whined out. “Yes, Michael – I want it, I need it, please.”

He stood, stripping down to nothing, pulling the condom out of his wallet’s fold. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, smirking when he saw your pussy clench at the sound. “I got you.”

He lined himself up behind you, dragged his mushroom head through your soaked folds – and thrusted in, filling you to the hilt in one stroke. And though you tried to fight it, a moan escaped your throat at the stretch, a sound that easily echoed through the walls of the room.

And outside the door, there was, in fact, an audience. But a silent audience – one that did their screaming in your group chat.

It was downright nasty the way he fucked you. Aggravatingly slow and mean – he was gripping your waist, slapping your ass, rubbing pressured circles along your clit with his thumb, all while he whispered filth into your neck. “This pussy is mine now. All mine. You understand me?” he grunted, chest to your back.

“Mhmm,” was all you could let out in between moans and gasps.

“Nuh-uh.” he replied, smacking your asscheek again, “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, “Oh fuck, Michael, I–I’m yours!”

He used his free hand to brush your curls behind your back, enwrapping it into a makeshift ponytail, and pulling your head back to look at him as he towered over you. “Open.”

And of course, you obliged, mouth agape. And as if he couldn’t fuck you filthier, he spat in your mouth. And because he was fucking you absolutely stupid, you swallowed, opening your mouth again eagerly in hopes for more of him.

He leaned over instead, kissing you sloppily while your arms lost strength from yet another orgasm. But just when you thought it was over, he flipped you onto your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and fucked you deep, whispering “eyes on me, baby” when your eyes rolled back.

Kissing your swollen lips, his tongue burying into your mouth. He pressed his forehead to yours as you came again, this time, him following being you, your walls clenching around him like you were crying for it. He let out a groan from deep in his chest at the tightness, muttering, “Goddamn, you’re perfect,” as he spilled into the condom.

He eased out of you, peeling the soiled condom off and tying it closed, setting it hastily on the floor next to the bed. He pulled you into his arms, your bodies still twitching slightly from the aftershocks. And when you finally passed out, still damp with sweat and thighs covered in your slick, he kissed your temple tenderly. “Mine,” he murmured. “All mine.”

And you laid like that for a while. At least, until he heard your quiet snores against his chest. He gently slid out of bed, tucking you snugly under the covers. Then, he pulled on his boxers, throwing away the trash in the bin across the room.

When he opened the door, still scantily clad in his grey boxers, sweat still cooling on his skin, the girls were there.

All of them. Stunned. Eyes the size of saucers.

He blinked.

Then, without missing a beat, he nodded. “Evening.” Before sliding past them like he hadn’t just turned your body into gospel, strutting to the suite’s bathroom in search of a cloth to clean you up.

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[demie90s]

can you write spoiled!nika x rich!reader where reader is upset with nika and nika is trying to make it up to reader

ɴɪᴋᴀ ᴍüʜʟ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀɪᴄʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Still Mad. Still Yours.

MASTERLIST | MORE | Part 2

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Nika messed up. Nothing unforgivable—but enough to leave you quiet, closed-off, and ice-cold in your own penthouse. What she doesn’t know is you forgave her the minute she apologized.

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Angst with a spoiled fluff ending, tension turned soft

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Cursing, past argument, spoiled girlfriend behavior, soft begging

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~0.9k

𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙚: Drama queen meets sugar baby, rich girl silence, love in the effort

We lost. Bad. And nobody was saying anything. The locker room was quiet, heavy, tired. The kind of loss that didn’t need a coach’s speech or a teammate’s pep talk. We all knew it was ugly. I was sitting near my locker, still in uniform, towel in my lap, eyes low. Just trying to breathe through the sting.

And then Nika said it.

“You know what?” Her voice was sharp—tired, but louder than it needed to be. “This is your fault.”

I looked up at her, slow, confused. “What?”

She was standing there, sweaty, frustrated, and deadass looking at me like I was the reason we lost.

“You’ve been distracting me,” she snapped. “Us. Everyone. You walk around like you have to be in everything—practice, strategy, conversations with Geno, team events. Like you know everything. Like you’re perfect.”

My heart was already pounding, but she wasn’t done.

“Your attitude, your outfits, your whole damn energy. You’re not helping anymore. You’re making it worse.” Her eyes were wild now, glassy and too honest. “You think you’re keeping me focused? You’ve been in my head.”

It was quiet again for a second. Just long enough to feel that sting settle.

Then she gave me the final blow. “Just back off. Leave me alone.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at her.

Then I stood. Walked over calmly, gently placed a kiss on her forehead, and whispered, “Okay.”

I grabbed my stuff and walked out. No drama. No yelling. No explanation. She said leave her alone, so I did.

And this time? I didn’t come back.

⸻

No texts. No calls. No presence. The group chat buzzed and I didn’t answer. Paige called seven times. KK texted me, asking if I was good. I left her on delivered. Azzi never reached out, but she was probably watching from the sidelines like she always did—quiet, observant, knowing something bigger was going on.

I didn’t show up for film. Missed two practices. Ignored a team dinner. I stopped sitting in the front during meetings. I stopped showing up for her.

And Nika? She didn’t text me either.

The only thing louder than what she said was what she didn’t say after.

By the fourth day, I walked back into practice like I wasn’t gone. Hoodie on, face blank, ready to work. No greetings. No eye contact. Just drills. Geno didn’t even wait for me to warm up.

“You think you can disappear and just stroll in like that?”

“It won’t happen again,” I said flatly.

“Damn right it won’t,” he barked. “You’re running. Now.”

So I ran.

Suicides until my lungs gave out. Full-court sprints until my legs trembled. No water. No breaks. No glances at her.

But I felt her watching. The entire time. I felt her stare burning a hole through the court while I broke myself down to earn back something I didn’t even lose.

After practice, the locker room felt smaller than usual. I sat in the corner, hair damp, tying it back again when Paige’s voice cut through the room like a whip.

“You haven’t spoken to her?” she asked Nika, loud. “You told her to leave you alone and she actually did. Now you wanna act surprised?”

Nika didn’t answer.

“She’s never missed practice in her life,” Paige said, slamming her locker. “She’s been solid since the minute she got here. And now she’s showing up like a damn ghost and you’re acting like this is normal?”

“I told her she was the reason we lost,” Nika said softly.

Paige froze. Even Azzi looked up.

“I said she was a distraction,” Nika admitted. “I was pissed. I didn’t mean it—I just… I needed someone to blame and she was there.”

Azzi stood slowly, shook her head once, and walked out.

Paige didn’t say another word. She just gave Nika a look that said you’re lucky she hasn’t broken your heart out loud.

I stayed silent through all of it. Sitting in the corner. Tying my laces. Not saying a single thing.

Because the truth is… she told me to leave.

So I did.

⸻

That night, a note slid under my door. Her handwriting. I didn’t open it at first. I just stared at it for a while, like it might explain itself if I waited long enough. But eventually, I picked it up.

I didn’t mean it. I was overwhelmed. I was scared. I blamed you because you were the only part of my life I couldn’t control. You were never the problem. You were the reason I was holding on. Please don’t let this be the last time we’re us.

I folded it and tucked it into my drawer without a word. No reply. No calls.

She’s gonna have to do more than write a letter.

Because if she wants me back—if she wants us back—she’s gonna have to earn every inch of the space she created between us.

You want me gone?

You got it.

Now let’s see how long you can take your own silence.

The first day back after I ran suicides like my lungs didn’t matter, she tried to walk beside me.

I didn’t let her.

She followed me all the way down the hallway. I could hear her breathing like she was rehearsing something in her head. When I stopped at my locker, she stopped too. Close. But not close enough to touch me.

“I was wrong,” she said. I didn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t thinking. I was tired. I was angry at myself, and I took it out on you.”

Still, I didn’t look at her. I folded my jersey like I always do—neat, clean, emotionless.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the locker room.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I finally replied, voice low. “You said it.”

She stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to break us.”

I paused.

“You didn’t break us, Nika,” I said, still not facing her. “You broke me.”

⸻

Day two.

She brought my favorite matcha to the gym before morning shootaround. It was exactly how I liked it—light ice, not too sweet, stainless steel straw. She even scribbled a heart on the cup. It sat there on the bench next to me while I tied my shoes.

I didn’t drink it.

But I didn’t throw it away either.

⸻

Day three.

She talked to Geno.

I didn’t hear the full conversation, but I caught the end of it from across the court when he said, “You better fix it. You lost more than a teammate.”

After practice, she waited for me again. I walked right past her.

That night, I found a little box on my dorm bed. No note. Just one of the chain bracelets I mentioned months ago—the kind I said I liked but never bought.

It had my number engraved on the inside. And hers.

I wore it to bed.

⸻

Day four.

She finally broke in front of everyone.

We were running half-court sets. Geno was going off about defensive rotations. I wasn’t even trying to prove anything anymore—I just wanted to finish and leave. But she kept glancing over, missing her cues. Paige shouted her name twice. She didn’t respond.

Then she dropped the ball mid-drill and just said it, loud enough for the whole gym to hear:

“I fucked up.”

Everyone stopped.

Azzi’s brows lifted. KK looked over slowly. Geno turned around with a scowl until Nika kept going.

“I said something I didn’t mean. I hurt someone who’s never done anything but love me. And I told her to leave me alone when she was the only person holding me together.”

My throat tightened. My hands stayed at my sides.

She looked at me.

“I didn’t just lose her. I pushed her out.”

She was crying now. Not the kind of crying you could cover with a sleeve. The kind that poured out when there was nothing left to hold back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, eyes locked on mine. “And I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll say it every day until you believe it.”

I blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Geno.

“Can I run?” I asked.

He stared at me, then gave a slow nod. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

So I ran.

Not because I needed to be punished. Because I needed to move through the ache. She watched me the entire time. And when I finished, chest heaving, dripping in sweat, I didn’t look at her.

I just said, “I know you’re sorry.”

Then I walked out.

⸻

That night, she texted me.

I know you forgave me already. I just want to prove I deserve it.

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then typed.

You’ll never have to earn my love, Nika. But you do have to earn your place beside it again.

I didn’t send anything else. The next morning, there was another matcha waiting. And a single sticky note:

Day five.

Still yours. Still trying.

And for the first time since she told me to leave… I smiled. Just a little.

[alotofpockets]

Long distance date night | Mary Earps x ManUnited!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "I was having a bad day until I heard your voice."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Four goal opportunities. Four chances you missed. When the final whistle blew you looked around the pitch for your girlfriend, like you had always done, but she wasn’t there. It hit a little harder today, your girlfriend no longer stood between the goalposts at United. 

Maya was by your side first, noticing the way you were staring at the goal where Fallon was sitting. She wrapped her arms around you in quiet understanding. You let her hold you for a moment. “Sorry I messed up,” you say barely above a whisper.

Your captain leans back out of the hug and puts her hands on your shoulders. “You didn’t mess up, you were one of our best players today. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You wanted to believe her, but if you had just finished one of the goal opportunities you would have been able to at least tie the game.

She noticed that you weren’t fully believing her words, so she tried a different route. Looking back at your goal where your eyes had gone to again. “I know she is proud of your performance. I’m sure Mary was watching along and cheering you on every step of the way.”

You give her a small smile, “Thank you.” She nodded and patted your shoulders before moving on to the next teammate who looked like they could use a pep talk. She was good at the whole captain thing. 

While you still weren’t happy with your own performance and beating yourself up over the missed opportunities and the loss, you walked around the pitch to thank the fans for their support.

There was only one thing you were looking forward to though. Date night with Mary. Date nights had become a little different now that you were doing your relationship long distance, but you made it work. Tonight’s plan was to call and cook dinner together, the same meal so it really felt like you were having a dinner date.

On the way home from the match, you picked up all the ingredients that you would need for the recipe that you had picked out together. You weren’t totally present on the trip, your mind still a bit clouded with thoughts and replays of the match, but you managed to get everything on your list.

After a quick shower you put your laptop on the counter and got the video call with Mary ready. The moment you saw her, your face lit up. “Hi baby.” She smiled back, “Hi love. How was your day?”

“I was having a bad day until I heard your voice." Mary smiled softly. “Do you want to talk about it?” With a shake of your head you say, “Just the match, nothing to worry about.”

Mary didn’t just want to leave it at that. “Love, I watched your match start to finish. You played incredibly, player of the match for me for sure.” You roll your eyes at her jokingly, “You’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

Your girlfriend shakes your head, “I might be biased, but I think everyone would agree with me in saying you were the team’s best player today. What did Maya say to you after the game? I’m sure she agreed with me.” Of course she stayed to watch the post-match coverage as well. You sigh deeply, “That I was one of the best players, and shouldn’t be so hard on myself.” You look up at the screen again, “And that you would be proud of me if you were watching.”

Her smile grew, “See, not biased, just speaking facts.” She got you laughing again. “Okay, enough about me now. How was your day?” She talked about her day while you both started chopping your vegetables, and soon the distance didn’t seem to be so much. 

With all the veggies chopped, showing Mary you cut them just the way she liked it, it was time to put them into the pan and really start cooking. You felt Mary’s eyes on you as you transferred the veggies from the cutting board into the pan. “What?”

“I wish I could hug you right now. You look like you need it.” Mary’s words hit a little harder than usual after the day you’ve had, and her words bring tears to your eyes. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry.” You smile through the tears, “I know you didn’t. I just miss you so much. I looked back at the goal today, you know like I always used to do, but you weren’t there. I know we’ve got this whole long distance thing down, but in moments like that it just hits a little harder that you’re no longer right there.”

Mary nodded, she knew moving away was going to be hard, and moments like this were going to be tough. You had built up a routine together, a different one for whichever way a match would go, and now she wasn’t there to do that with you. 

Your girlfriend being her usual self, thought it was best to lighten the mood with a joke. “Make sure your tears don’t end up in the pan, we don’t want the food getting too salty.” You look at the screen with a blank expression before busting out laughing. “Good one.” You comment as you wipe away your tears. 

With dinner now simmering, you feel into deeper conversations again. You loved how just being on a video call could make it feel like she was right there beside you. Eating together was such a nice way to connect with each other, especially on days where you felt like she was worlds away.

Long distance was new for the both of you, but you were making it work. At the end of the day, Mary would always be one call away. And as you both raised your glasses to the screen, a makeshift toast that was entirely unnecessary but brought a smile to both your faces, it felt like she was home.

-----

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[rafesteddy]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚐𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

📖 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡.

CW | swearing, name-calling, Rafe & reader’s POV, hockey violence, pet names (daddy, doll, baby, babygirl etc, degradation, Rafe talks about the reader in an explicit fashion to her ex without her there, rough oral, throat fucking, cum play, creampie, semipublic sex, unprotected p in v, jealous!rafe, ownership kink, squirting, lots of dirty talk from him

NCAA Men’s Frozen Four Championship Game…

30 seconds remaining in the 3rd Period 1-0:

Rafe’s POV:

The ref’s whistle screams through the arena. The puck drops again. I skirt and push as I look for an opening, waiting for my pass. I charge past the student section, catching her eye as I always do. My number one fan. My girl. Mine.

Easton Lawrence is a bitch. He has been since juniors; y/n’s ex-boyfriend no less. He and I usually both end up ejected from the game without fail. Not today. I promised her I’d play as nice as I could. ‘He’s not worth it. He’s a dick. He’s just trying to get under your skin, baby.’ That’s my girl’s pep talk. But Jesus fuckin’ Christ, three periods of this shit-talkin’ from him has me wanting to toss all that out the window. He loves to fuck with me. And he always has—every damn game.

Easton bumps his stick against the glass, giving her a smile that she doesn’t return. Good girl. We meet at the line, getting ready for puck drop. His silver chain hangs out of his jersey. Of course, I stalked her IG before we dated; I know that pendant was a gift from her. #6 shines in the bright rink lights, making my blood boil.

“Y/n looks good, Cameron. Sweetest fucking pussy I ever had.” He chirps, taking a jab as he has, each one getting more infuriating than the last as he inches closer and closer to my soft spot. Her. He just had to do it.

“Say her name again. Do it, bitch,” I warn.

“I miss her sayin’ mine, that’s for sure,” he sneers as he tightens his stick in his mitts.

“You startin’ shit ‘cause you’re losin’, asshole? This game is almost over. Give it up.” The whistle blows, a false start, leaving him plenty more time to run his mouth. My turn. “Good? Nah, buddy. My girl looks perfect. And I’m man enough to agree with you, perfect fuckin’ pussy. Too bad you weren’t man enough to make her cum. Huh?”

Easton laughs wickedly and shakes his head. “Gonna fucking kill you when I find you in the parkin’ lot, Cameron. I swear to Christ.”

“No, you ain’t. ‘Cause I’m gonna take that sweet pussy to the first locker room I find and rail what’s mine. Gonna make her forget that any man’s name’s ever passed her lips but Rafe Cameron.”

The whistle blasts, and the puck drops. I get an elbow to the gut immediately, Easton prodding and taunting me instantly. There are so many bodies in front of the net, but I catch my opening. The puck hits my stick, a little backhand flick. I watch as she trickles past the goal line.

The siren sounds, and the crowd cheers loudly as the music blares. I skate toward him, getting in his face before my teammates can reach me to celebrate, making the refs rush around us, anticipating a brawl. “Gettin’ her and the win, pussy. Have fun beatin’ your own dick, bitch,” I dig. Easton shoves me hard, and I shove him back, slapping his chest and ripping that cheap-ass Zale’s chain off his chest before hurling it over the glass.

"Break it up!” The refs scream, blowing their whistles again.

My co-captain bumps me with his stick, giving me a broad smile. That was the winning goal. A few boys drag me in for a celebratory hug before skating back to the bench. There are only a few seconds left, and the crowd’s goin’ crazy aleady. Y/n can barely contain her excitement. I give her a wink, and she smiles back, giving me a little finger wave that has me even more eager for the final buzzer.

Sure, they’ll be press after this. A quick interview with ESPNU, maybe a few words from the coaches; a quick speech from us captains. But when I’m done with all that shit, I’m fuckin’ my girl just like I said I would.

My coach smiles at me proudly, not wanting to jinx the next 30 seconds of play. The only thing that would be better is if the puck passed the white ice before the clock hit 0.0.

But I don’t wanna get greedy now, do I? I’ll save that for her.

Reader’s POV:

“Congratulations, captain…” Your lips meet his neck, a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock, rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. Rafe moans deeply, vibrations buzzing against your lips. You work a little lower, kissing and tracing his strong chest and abs, working to the locker room floor.

Your fingers run softly against the deep indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him from your knees, catching your fingers under the band of his boxers, pulling them to his feet, watching as his aching cock springs free, Rafe letting out a sigh of relief.

He meets your eyes, his guide shifting as you pinch the bottom of his jersey you’re wearing. “Keep it on, princess. Just for a bit,” he smiles as he looks down at you at his feet, wanting to see his last name on your shoulders as you suck him off.

“I love your cock, baby,” you laud as you take him in your hands.

“Yeah?” He groans, watching you near his tip; a bead of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly before it falls to the concrete. “Don’t go wastin’ it now,” he teases as you run your tongue along your bottom lip; mouth water, wanting the weight and taste of him on your tongue.

“If I was at the hotel, I’d lick it off the floor. I swear,” you smile as Rafe looks down at you in awe.

“Just a filthy little slut for me. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Mmm… Mhmm.” You hum, preening him up with your tongue. Rafe closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling. He cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly.

“This mouth, baby,” he mumbles.

Rafe’s eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him fully, the warmth of your mouth swathing him. “Shit,” he pants, sexual tension painted all over his handsome face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly as he watches you take him into your mouth. “Fuckkk,” he moans, drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, choking on his big dick each time. He holds your head a little tighter in his hands as you increase your pace.

Rafe starts to trill on your tongue, mumbling praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair, causing you to moan around his cock. Rafe takes control, gliding slower, taking a different grip entirely, holding your cheeks in his large hands. The fat tip of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your mouth.

“This mouth is mine. All fucking mine,” he grunts. “And you’re gonna swallow it all. Yeah?” Rafe asks raspily, stroking your full cheeks with his thumbs. “‘Course you are. Can’t answer with this pretty little mouth full of dick. Can you?”

Rafe thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully, a gasp for air releases from your open lips, drool connecting from the tip of his cock to your kiss-swollen lips. You spit on his dick, getting messy just like he likes, stroking him with your fist. "I’m all yours, Rafe.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Mhmm… That’s right, princess.” You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him moan your name. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass, as you start to stroke him with your mouth again. Lewd noises fill the locker room; Rafe, panting and like a dog; you, slurping and squelching with each bob of your head. Tears leak down your cheeks, eyes locked on him, watching as he starts to near his finish. Rafe’s cock swells on your tongue; his muscular thighs trembling as you squeeze. ”So good, baby… I’m gonna - Fuck.“ Warm, white ropes hit the back of your throat as you take his big load, swallowing it all.

You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along his tip, catching what little remains, flattening your tongue to show him yourself. “My girl,” he smiles, hooking a finger under your chin, leading you to your feet. Rafe spits in your open mouth one moment, kissing you deeply the next, slipping his tongue inside. Your tongues swirl together, Rafe holding onto you tight.

"I need you, baby,” you plead against his lips, and he smiles on yours.

“Yeah? You need this dick, princess?”

“I need it,” you whisper, taking his bottom lips between your teeth.

“She needs it… I wanna fill up this sweet pussy,” he mumbles. “Nobody else gets you but me. No one else knows this cunt like I do. Do they?” He asks, all low and husky against your neck. You respond with a needy uh huh, making him chuckle as you melt into him more, feeling your arousal pool in your panties. “I’m gonna be drippin’ out of you all night.”

“I’m counting on it, Rafe,” you breathe. He strips you out of his jersey quick; your pants already tossed to the side, leaving you in your black lacy bra and panties. Rafe unclasps your bra as he kisses down your neck, holding your breasts in his ringed hands. He reels and flicks his tongue across your sensitive bud, pinching the other between his rough digits. You scratch your fingers into his damp hair, guiding him lower and lower.

“Babygirl,” he chuckles as he snaps your panties at the hip, seeing his #2 embroidered into the fabric. “I fuckin’ love you. You know that.”

“You like it?”

“You know I would. I love ‘em.” He kisses your skin, then the number, working lower and lower, hitching your leg over his shoulder to get better access to your sopping core. Rafe licks the fabric, tasting you, groaning against your clothed cunt at the taste. “M’gonna leave these on… Get ‘em all messy. When we get back to the hotel after the bar, you can take ‘em off. Deal?”

“Deal,” you smile as you brush back his bangs to see his pretty baby blues.

“‘N by you I mean me,” he smiles playfully. “I’m already thinkin’ about later, baby. Got me fuckin’ pussy whipped,” Rafe laughs as he lifts you into his strong arms.

“I’m addicted to you, Cameron. I guess we’re even,” you whisper against his lips as you hook your ankles around his waist, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool brick wall. ”Fuck me?“ You whine, desperation laced in your tone. ”Please.“

“I love when you beg for my cock. Think you could get nice and loud for me, princess?” You bite your lip and nod in reply. “Beautiful.”

Rafe pushes your panties to the side; you tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. ”Shit,“ you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. Rafe moves a little lower, gliding through your folds, teasing your entrance with his pink, swollen tip. You both moan in unison as he fucks up into you.

You gasp and fuss, feeling him split you in two. Your boyfriend wasting no time stroking, hitting that special spot. He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His thrusts are merciless, absolutely intense as you cling to his shoulders. You cry out in pleasure as his toned body claps against your clit, his ruddy head repeatedly striking your g-spot.

“Atta girl. Keep screamin’ like that.”

”Rafe… Oh my god. I’m gonna cum,“ you moan as stars dance in your eyes, white-hot pleasure overtaking you entirely as you cum all over his cock. Rafe works you even quicker, fucking you through your orgasms as your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“Got this pussy creamin’ for me. Think I could make her cry,” he taunts through mumbled words, sucking and biting your skin, marking you up.

Rafe pulls you off the wall, leaving you gasping, his dick still buried deep as he carries you to the bench. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as you kiss. Rafe adjusts slightly, leaning back into the wall, enjoying the view, catching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising fully before spreading your thighs wide again. Rafe grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. ”It’s too much,“ you whine, bottom lip wobbling, as he stretches you out.

“You’re lyin’,” he laughs breathily between jagged breaths. “My baby can take it.”

You throw your head back as you bounce, nailing the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge of Rafe’s dick as your thighs start to burn. Rafe’s thumb presses against your throbbing clit rubbing circles on top. ”Say my name when you cum, princess. Scream my fuckin’ name.“

”Sh-Shit,” you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, baby. Let me have it.”

Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release, toes curling as you’re sent into ecstasy. Before you can come down, he picks you up, pushing you onto the cold bench, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echoes through the locker room. You let out a loud cry, making him smile wildly before your eyes pinch shut, gripping the metal edge, making your knuckles turn white.

“Look at me, princess. Eyes on me. M’almost there. You’re doin’ so good, f’me.” He lifts his hand, pressing two fingers between your lips before bringing them down to your clit, playing with your pussy.

”Yes! Just - Just like that. Fuck. Rafe,“ you squeal. ”Oh shit-“ Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock, wetting your panties and his thighs. Rafe’s hips snap into you, filling you with his warmth. He topples down on top of you, burying himself in your neck, mumbling soft “I love you’s” as he rocks through your shared release. Rafe kisses your cheeks, then your lips, lingering close as you both come down from your bliss.

“Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had.”