#you tie yourself to them and you know that if it doesn't work. if they die. it will feel like your soul has been torn from you

[returnofeternity]

https://www.tumblr.com/returnofeternity/782599019897700352/i-really-think-the-right-butch-could-tie-rhiannon?source=share

this is making me think about being rhiannon’s housebutch

nothing better than watching your femme slowly become more confident with herself!!! so what if it's because she started murdering people? you're so proud of her! seeing her come home from work, complaining about how norman is such a tosser or how nobody took her cookies she baked for them, it always has you upset. but now that she's taking control, and seeing her speak up for herself makes you so happy.

being there for her after she sends a barely coherent text that her dad passed, taking the soonest bus to the hospital and just holding her in the car while she yells it all out. going to the funeral with her and basically being her guard dog (she thinks Tink is better suited for that 🙄), especially when julia shows up. rhiannon who hides behind you when she sees her walking down the hall and drags you away :( trying to stop her from playing with her hair because you know how bad it gets.

moving in with her, which causes you to become her full-time housebutch!!!!!! rhiannon who pops shitty frozen pizza in the oven for dinner while she waits for the moving truck to get here with your things :) telling her to sit her ass down while you bring it all in (it's not a lot), and rhiannon who just enjoys the show and listens to your grunts while you try to carry in your shelf. she sits you down and feeds you pizza after everything. after dinner, you try to make her feel better by offering to put away some of her dads things so she doesn't have to. by the end of the night, you're both so tired that you pass out on the couch, with rhiannon sitting on your lap and wearing her dad's old robe.

Tink lives in this because she deserves her butch and dog!!!

always having her favorite meal ready when she comes home from work. tink greets her at the door, and you slide her the plate when she comes into the kitchen. all she can do is sigh and kiss both of you, feeding some to tink and to you even though you have your own plate.

lazy mornings where she doesnt wanna get up and go to work so you just stay in bed and kiss all day. running your hands along her arms and kissing her pretty face, mumbling if she wants to take a shower with you instead of separately. taking the bus to this cafe you always go to with her and paying for her food and drink, rhiannon who takes her laptop with her so she can write. you always ask her how she's doing and she loves talking about her new chapter that she's working on :)

cleaning up for her when she comes home all bloody and tired, running a hot bath for her, telling her that you can take care of the clothes and blood while she gets herself washed and in bed. making sure to clean up the trails outside too :) sometimes asking her where she killed so you can go back and make sure she didn't leave any evidence !!!!

being the only person in the entire world that is allowed to touch her sylvanian family houses. she trusts and loves you enough to let you clean them, and she's such a rambler when you do.... if you pick one up that interests her, she goes on about its lore and where she found it and all that.

thinking about rhiannon coming home to the house seemingly empty, but when she gets to the bedroom, there's a lingerie set placed on the bed and a note from you that says: "went out to buy lube cos we didn't have any. make yourself all pretty for me for when i get back?"

and even though you planned all this, you're pleasantly surprised when you arrive back home and she's sprawled out for you lmfao. she just looks so gorgeous, it always blows your mind. taking care of her for being such a good femme, because you know she pampers the hell out of you too, and making love to her all night.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

spirk using telepathy to keep each other alive. kirk, desperate, psy-null and untrained, reaching clumsily into spock's dying mind and pulling, dragging spock's essence into himself, wrenching him forceably from the very jaws of death and holding him there through sheer strength of will, saying you can't die, i won't let you, you can't leave me, i need you, and binding him to life and to himself until it's impossible to fully separate them. spock, more skilled, carefully managing each one of kirk's vital signs - keeping his heart beating steady, his lungs drawing breath, his temperature within a safe range, all while suppressing kirk's pain, and at the same trying, vainly, to keep their minds from tying themselves inexorably together, but they're pressed too close and he can't, and he hopes that kirk will forgive him, for bonding them like this (he will, of course he will), but the alternative, letting kirk die, was - unthinkable.

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up Masterlist / Stripclub Owner Sukuna headcanons

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight (final)

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, blow jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, teasing and mafia related violence, some former trauma of reader, lots of smut and also fluff, watch Kuna morph into a softie hehe.- Ties into the Satoru x reader story Losing Control Now

FInished- WC 54k - ao3 link here - Playlist

Headcanons/story preview below!

Stripclub Owner Sukuna- who loves what he does, the money he makes, the women, the entire atmosphere. What more could he really need in life?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna lights up a blunt with his co owner, Toji, as they lounge back on one of the bright red Sofa's, watching their girls dance around them while they hold business meetings. Sukuna certainly doesn't mind beautiful women, nor does he mind snorting coke right off them.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna throws back a shot, when suddenly he sees someone so different, so fucking pretty it makes his heart thud in his chest. He can barely stop himself from yanking you right away from this. He's slicking back pastel hair when Toji introduces you so casually, wearing a pretty silver bikini that shows too much of your sexy body. You look shy? You look nervous?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna takes your hand then, smirking at you, watching the blush decorate your cheeks, when he finds you're going to be a dancer, he immediately wants to say no, dance for just him, a level of possession he's never even felt with his girlfriends. Sukuna's shared plenty of women, but if he got you!?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna smacks Toji for even bringing you here later, and Toji scoffs. 'She has a kid and shit, she'll make top dollar here' Sukuna falters at such news. 'Don't ya think she'll make bank?' 'Tch, of course she will... it's just she's so...' Toji snorts. 'you got the hots for her, huh? Well she ain't some easy girl, I know her'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna knows he must have you, when you're stepping around the stage, and he's eyeing you, sitting right in front of the stage as you get on your knees, crawling toward him and smiling shyly. 'how're you a shy stripper, huh? not gonna work' he huffs, and you tilt your head, hand slipping down his tie. 'No allure in a shy dancer, Mr. Sukuna?'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna loses his mind when he hears his name spilled from your glossy lips, as he thinks of shoving his cock deep inside that mouth, so close to his when you turn. You bend over, ass right in the air, begging for a smack as you look back at him, hair falling over your face. 'Why're you here?' he demands, eyeing the curve of your back, cock hard like he's some pathetic teenager or something.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna tenses when you say - 'I need the money, isn't it why everyone does this?' 'Toji says you got a kid' you tense then, turning toward him nervously, as the stagelights glimmer all over your skin. 'That a problem?' Sukuna shakes his head. "Nah, lots of girls here do...' You exhale. 'I'm a single mom, my friend can watch her at night, why not work while she's asleep? I can spend my time with her'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna admires the fuck out of you as you dance your pretty ass off, but he hates the men that see you, see you in just your little bottoms and tassells, breasts bouncing, ass jiggling as you shake it, as you move. You're a whole star quickly, the few hours a night you come in you make bank, but as soon as you leave, he's in his office, jerking it to you, imagining those nipples, that pussy he sees hints of with your spandex panties.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna On one particular night forgets to lock the door, you're still out there dancing but he can't take it, you're too fucking sexy, he's picturing burying his face in that nice ass of yours as you step inside, shutting the door quickly when you see it, his enormous dick in his hands, covered in precum. You gasp, looking away quickly. 'shit I'm sorry, it's my ex... he's such an ass and I didn't want him to see me...'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna pauses, in shock as you look back down at him, licking your lower lip. 'I'm interrupting...' you come closer though, watching, breath catching in your throat. 'Want me to beat him the fuck up? ruin him?' Sukuna murmurs, voice husky, when you keep walking towards him, and he slowly strokes, from the base to the tip of his veiny length, acting so casual. 'No, you don't have to do all that, you're already so good to me' he laughs then, shaking his head. 'You are, maybe I should... be good to you?'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna can't form a thought when you're stroking his cock, leaning so close, lips just a breath from his, taking two of his fingers and sucking his precum off them, cheeks hollowing. Sukuna loses his control then, using those two fingers to slip so deep you cry out, earning his groan, uncaring if anyone heard. He's curling them up in your walls as you stroke, his eyes laser focused on your pretty face when he grips your hair by the nape of your neck. 'wanna suck me, huh brat?' he tries to keep it together, but when you nod eagerly, on your knees, he can't take how good your throat feels.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has his cock fucking up into your throat, his salty precum against your tongue, and he wonders if it's some dream it has to be, you're too fucking beautiful to just be doing this, you shouldn't even be working, he thinks. He'd like you just naked around his house, to fuck you on every surface, fill you up with so many kids you'd never leave. Sukuna is groaning while you suck him greedily, looking up at him with dilated, beautiful eyes, making him simultaneously want to fuck you and want to make love to you, stupid insane shit that irritates him.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna stutters when you suck harder, and he's cumming deep in your throat, not meaning to. No he wants to fuck your pussy, not this, but you make him cum so fast it's stupid, swallowing him with a pretty smile, as you lean up on shaky legs. He presses a kiss to your lips, desperate and messy, tasting all of his cum all over your mouth. You're gasping, until the door opens, and you pull apart, seeing an amused Toji. You are losing your mind later as you clean up to go home, wondering what's gotten ahold of you, when Sukuna is waiting right outside.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna loves it when you look down so shy and pretty, you're biting your lower lip to death, he releases it from the grip of your teeth. 'you free tonight, brat?' you blink in confusion. 'you want...' 'want you at my place, spread wide f'me, yeah?' you gasp at the thought, shaking your head then. 'I'm not, I have to get home to my kid... but tomorrow night?' he nods, ushering you to your shitty car, picturing you in something so much better soon, leaning over with a smirk as he seatbelts you in.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna now that he's had a taste, he can't stop thinking of you, when you're at work the next day you're quickly in his office again, this time he's got you grinding on his lap, slick arousal pooling in your little outfit. 'I'll fuckin pay you triple, take the day off' "Mr. Sukuna...' 'Take. The. Day. Off.' Sukuna finally gets you home, having you bent over his couch before you can blink, ripping your pretty costume to shreds, pumping you so full of his cock you're trembling, shaking, head falling back as he fills you so good, slamming your cervix.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has never felt anything like you, like your cunt pulsing around his cock, like his balls slapping your twitchy little clit, as you're sobbing it hurts so good, tears streaming down your pretty face while he rails his cock so deep. Sukuna busts deep in you as he wraps a big hand around your throat, fucking into you over and over, feeling you milk his cock for all he's got. 'Gonna fill you the fuck up, huh brat? gonna drip on the goddamn stage'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has your pussy on his mouth when he's busted in you, starting to lap all the gooey white cum from your pretty pussy. 'Sukuna! ah!' you've never felt like this, so fucked out as his tongue scoops all your cum out, he's leaning over you, spitting it right into your mouth, chuckling. 'pathetic, just how I fuckin need you'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna is pathetic for you, he doesn't let you leave, he pays you for another day, fucking you in every position, at some point he's holding you upside down, you're bobbing on his cock as he's gripping your ass, moaning against your hole, you're falling apart, so weak and sore. when you finally have to go home, because you have your kid, Sukuna can't stop thinking about you, about how he wants you to have his babies, to be under him every goddamn night, so excited when you come into work, only to see you devastated.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna demands to know what's wrong, only to see your shady ass ex, who wants to saunter up to him like he's shit, you shake your head, but soon Sukuna is beating the fuck out of him. 'you have no clue who he is, Mr. Sukuna...' you tell him then, earning Sukuna's chuckle, his big grin. 'You don't know who I am, baby'

Buy me a glass of wine🍷 - Gen Masterlist - ©All works by Madamechrissy you may not reproduce

[whisperofwonder]

Continuation of this

fem!reader x Kuroo Tetsurou

You smile at your reflection in the mirror as your maid of honor tucks one wayward strand of hair back into your updo. In less than an hour, you'll be walking down the aisle. You wonder what Tetsurou's face will look like when he sees you. You wonder if he'll cry. He'd insisted he wouldn't, but, well.

"You look so gorgeous!" One of your bridesmaids breathes, and truthfully, you'd have to agree with her. The hair dresser and makeup artist have worked their magic, and you'd found the absolute perfect dress. Now, all that's left is to wait until the ceremony begins.

Your friends' fawning over you is interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Your maid of honor moves to stand by the closed door, hand hovering over the handle.

"Babe," The voice belongs to none other than your soon-to-be husband, and you instinctively cross your arms over your front, even though the door is still firmly closed. He can't see you before the wedding!

"I need you to tie my tie!" You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"You know how to tie a tie," You call back carefully. "Just do it yourself!"

"But you always tie my tie." His voice is the next thing to a whine.

You sigh. "Where's Kenma?" Surely his best man didn't allow this. You wonder how he managed to slip away.

"Kenma is 'sick of my shit'," He intones, and you can practically hear the words in Kenma's voice. You sympathize. "Baby. My love. Please." He's begging now, and you can't help it. You start to soften.

Your maid of honor is looking at you with wide eyes, slashing her hand across her throat in a clear gesture: NO. You love her for that, but still.

"You'll close your eyes?" You ask in your sternest voice. "You can't see me, you know! It's bad luck."

"Yes, I'll close my eyes! Promise."

"Close them TIGHT," You insist, making sure he understands the gravity of the situation.

"They're tight," He promises. "Open the door already."

You nod. Your maid of honor hesitates for a few moments, but slowly swings the door open with a shake of her head.

There he is. Tetsurou. Your fiancé. In less than an hour, your husband. You feel your heart begin to swell in your chest. He wears a suit every day, but he looks especially handsome in this one. The tie in question is draped loosely around his neck.

"Babe?" He has his eyes squeezed shut, that much is obvious. As an added measure, your maid of honor pulls him inside and moves behind him, pressing her fingers across his eyes.

"Go ahead," She sighs. You reach for the tie, carefully straightening it around his neck. You reach for his collar, making sure it's turned up all the way around, and you watch as a smile begins to tug at his lips.

"I'm so excited," He murmurs as you work. "Can't wait to see you." The fingers covering his eyes tighten.

"Me too," You can't help the smile that's stealing across your own face. "I can't wait."

You begin making the knot, enjoying the dopey grin that's now completely filled his face. "There you go," You finally say, giving the knot a pat. "Perfect." Like always, you tug on the tie, just a little. Tilting your chin up, you lean into his kiss, savoring the feeling of it.

"I love you so much," He murmurs as he pulls away. "Thank you."

"I love you too, Tetsu." You take a step back, just drinking him in. "I'll see you soon."

He opens his mouth, but before he can drag the moment out any longer, your maid of honor steps in. "Okay, lovebirds, that's enough." She pulls him back. "Get back to wherever you're supposed to be. I'll kill you if you mess this up," She threatens sweetly.

"Yes ma'am," He murmurs as she shoves him back through the door, slamming it shut nearly in his face.

"You two make me sick," She sighs. The mushy smile on her face doesn't match her words at all. "Come here, let me touch up your lipstick."

[eraserbread]

it's just one of those things... your husband, nanami, likes you close.

but, your husband is actually a very sane individual and decides its best not to keep you leashed down. however, it didn't make it easier when you brought up the idea of visiting your family during the spring.

nanami loves your family, but he loves them in his way. he loves them from far, far away—perhaps not even a phone call away, just a yearly birthday card kind of closeness. It's not an energy he wishes to be around.

but, he wants whatever makes you happy, so he lets you go for a week.

a grueling, seven-day week. one filled with work, overtime, stress and anger, all to an empty house to crawl back to. it's okay -- its all he can tell himself as he tucks into bed lonely as hell.

he wills himself to sleep, begging his mind to leave you alone. let you have your space without his voice in your ear. he thinks you want this -- this... disgusting silence.

little did he know, you were five cities away waiting by the phone.

just waiting. hoping at least a good night text would fall your way. you know he's up thinking about you. he has to be.

so, when you get home a week later. you're pissed and touch starved and nanami starved. you had a mind to let him have it, to spew everything you've been pining over while he's been too busy to text or call.

it also doesn't help that you got home four hours before him, having time to cool down and shower off. a part of you wants to call him -- perhaps he's getting drinks or dinner with a friend, but if he didn't contact you for a week, you'd be sure not to contact him. its the only way you know how to teach him.

he arrives home when you're wrapped in your pajamas, glass of wine in your hand, and waiting for this exact moment.

"welcome home, my beautiful wife."

he begins, and it brings a small smile to your face. it's already seeming like he's redeeming himself. "you know I love you."

"really? i don't know... just thought i'd see it more when we're apart," you mumble, chewing on your lip over the rim of your glass. you can't see nanami's expression, but you can feel the quirk in his brow - the tightness in the corner of his lips.

"well, don't be vague. you're mad at me." he knows, yet he's still so calm. you refuse to glance back at him, even when he's taking off his shoes and pulling off his tie. it's something you'd usually help him with. this time, you help yourself to your wine.

"look, a week apart did us both a world of good, I promise you."

"yeah? would your hand agree with you, there?"

he laughs. "not everything's about sex, dear. I'm capable of holding out for a week." another wordless sip of your wine, and he's approaching you. "but, just because I can, doesn't mean I want to go into day eight without it."

it takes every fiber of your soul to say, "'m sorry, nanami. i'm just not in the mood tonight."

if you didn't know him so well, you wouldn't have caught the slight twitch in his brow at the news. however, he takes it well with a small smile on his face. "of course. i'll be in my office."

you sip your wine, cursing him internally for his politeness. he could have anything he wanted from you if he just said it. but, he never will. if its your will to go to bed without giving yourself to him, then so be it. he won't beg at your feet like a child.

but... what if you wanted him to?

you're not keeping track of time anymore, but you feel renewed with a headful of wine and time spent with nothing but thoughts of him. it's genuinely unnerving to you just how in love you are. nanami is so gentle, strong, beautiful and polite. it fucking makes your head spin.

then, you feel like a monster..

the feeling wills one foot in front of the other, all the way to his office door. it's not closed, just cracked. golden desk lamp lighting spills out into the hall in rectangular designs. you find yourself fixating on it in your drunkenness.

the door squeaks as you push it open, and you peek inside to see where he was amongst the organized chaos of books and work papers.

"ken?"

surprisingly, he's not staring right back at you. he's face down over his desk, resting so that you can't see his face—only the back of his head and all his disheveled blonde hair.

when you approach, he stays completely still. worry begins brewing in your chest.

"you know you can come to bed..." you whisper, leaning against the side of his desk. his pretty eyes flutter open at the softness of your voice and touch, quirking a smile.

"didn't think i could lay next to you and keep my hands to myself." he sits up into your hand, shivering as you massage over his scalp. he's like a little orange kitten, nudging your hand with sleepy eyes.

"don't you dare go ghost on me for a week ever again. do you know how obsessed I am with you?"

"i can guess." he chuckles softly, swallowing something down as he looks up at you. "I'm so sorry. just figured you would want your time to yourself."

"that doesn't mean you can't text me."

"then, i'm throwing my hands up and taking my wrongs." there he goes again, not even so much as debating his reasoning; he just wants you. if being the bad guy means he can lay down his gorgeous, tipsy wife, he'll be the worst person in the world.

there's newfound speed behind his actions as he spins his chair around, reaching out to grab you by the hips. it's so fluid and familiar, but it gets your pulse racing, the beat between your thighs mimicking the rhythm of his heart. he's so close to everything -- to you, to all of it.

he kisses your tummy where the hem of your shirt kisses the waistband of your shorts. he's breathing you in, memorizing the sound of you, it seems. your hands find the back of his neck, thumbing circles into the fuzz, there. it's a moment he'd never speak about again, but the ones you cherish the most. he just holds you. like, it's been over five minutes now...

"i'm sorry. i love you so much."

he nods into your stomach, kissing the ticklish sliver of bare skin there. you're dewy with the after-breath of him, but you love the warmth. you want him back when he pulls away.

"i love you." he nods, giving you those eyes when he looks up at you. your heart fucking pummels and rushes through your body, nearly bringing tears to your eyes -- he's so beautiful. "and I love this fabric on you."

"please. please take it off, kento. i love you so fucking... so fucking much." you're breathless already, and all he's done is kiss you. it's a little embarrassing, but neither of you care. tomorrow morning when he kisses you awake, you'll shrug off your demeanor on the alcohol but you weren't that drunk. you just missed him.

"take it off, please. take it off..."

"huh?"

"please, don't fucking tease me i'm so horny right now. nanami kento, i love you so much, please."

"wow, girl." he trails his lips to your waistband, taking it between his teeth shortly. "are you begging for it?"

"fuck my pride, i don't have it with you anymore." you gasp, tightening your fist in his hair to lead him just... down. of course, he's too fucking strong. he doesn't budge. "kentooo-"

he stares up with wide eyes for just a second longer before giving in. he mumbles, "all right, all right." just before yanking your shorts and taking you apart. he drives his chair forward as he slides open your cunt on two fingers, showing you his tongue and diving in. he's done this hundreds of times, but you'll never be used to the feeling.

he knows every inch of your body - how you vibrate when he flicks your clit that one way or dips his tongue the other. he has your orgasm down to a science, but he still takes his time massaging around your labia, kissing the crook between your thighs.

you were already so close, you cuss. "fuck - what ar- what are you doing?!"

"if you would just have some patience," he responds vaguely, holding your thigh and kissing across the inside. with rushing breaths, you try to calm down, swallowing as you watch him. "you were about to finish, I could tell."

"so, you stopped?"

"i know you've been drinking... so you won't last past this round." of course, only he would know that and actually apply logic to it. it hits you dumbfounded. "I'm selfish. just wanted you to cum when I'm inside a'you."

there's absolutely nothing you can say to translate your thoughts, all you can do is breathe out a shaky moan. you were so fucked off of his tongue, right now.

"desk? bedroom? hm?"

or

you want me to fuck you on my desk or in our bed?

bed sounds better, that way you can pass out immediately afterwards. your mind swims thinking about being back in his arms tonight.

it seems you said that out loud, because he gives you a small smile, then carries you all the way to your bedroom.

he fucks you slow and deep tonight, letting you rest on your back as he held your legs over his waist. you're mewling in reaction, biting down on the inside of your wrist to keep the embarrassment at bay. nanami's being so devious, fucking you like this. he knows it'd take you longer to cum, but he wants that.

he wanted to savor this. you. all of it. all he can do as he stares down at you is admire. he loves the way your breasts rise and fall with each shaky breath. he loves the way your neck dips every time he hits that spot or touches you there.

inside of your warmth is home for him. he just loves you so fucking much that you're the only thing on his mind when he cums alongside you.

he even thinks his left eye drops a tear when he collapses in bed with you. though, he'd never, ever admit it.

then, he kisses the top of your head as you drift away into spinning dreams and whispers:

"god, what did i ever do before you?"

[bbokicidal]

skz + cucking

You read the title. Synopsis: Based off of a request asking who SKZ would most want to be cucked by and why.

Genre: Smut Pairing: OT8 x Afab!Reader Warnings: 18+ (MDNI) Notes: None ~

Chan: Minho. Honestly, I think he would be totally fine being cucked by any of the boys; But if it were up to him, and the one that would rile him up the most, is Minho. He's just a little bit younger, and he's the 'uptight, stoic, older brother but somehow mom' of the group - And Chan just thinks Minho deserves a little break and to be able to relax for a while instead of looking out for the Youngers of the group. So, naturally, Chan tells you to ride Minho until he's pink in the ears and near to tears.

Minho: Jeongin. Guy gets off on seeing you with the youngest. He partially likes watching you two get it on because he likes seeing the way Jeongin fumbles with you and is a little surprised that you're so bratty and pushing his patience to see what riles him up and gets him rough. Jeongin expected you to be more submissive, given he figured Minho was the more dominant person in the relationship. Little did he know; This was just what happened when you had two tops who bit at each other and pushed the limits. Jeongin just had to figure out how to handle you.

Changbin: Seungmin. He loves seeing you with Seungmin; Either using his favorite younger to get yourself off, or letting the vocalist take out some of his frustrations on you. Seungmin didn't have a partner of his own so he always came to Changbin if he was needing to blow off some steam, asking if he could borrow you for the night - And Changbin always agreed on the condition that he could be in the room. Seungmin never minded, he actually kind of liked having his favorite Hyung watching. Even if it felt a little dirty using his sweetheart like this...

Hyunjin: Chan. Chan, all the way - but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Hyunjin wants you with Chan and Chan only because he trusts the eldest with everything he has. He trusts Chan to take care of you the way you deserve, to be as romantic as him and to be careful with you when something happens that might be a little more rough. He wants you in good hands and he trusts Chan to be delicate with you. (I'm sure you were hoping I'd say you get devoured and fucked hard the by Red Lights duo and you do, but only when they both need to let off some steam. Otherwise it's usually more romantic and soft.)

Jisung: Hyunjin. Jisung is antsy when it comes to sex; He's touchy, fumbling, rushing ahead of himself and always trying to get the most he can out of the time he has with you - so Hyunjin being with you is perfect because he is the complete opposite. Hyunjin's a romantic and is setting the room up with candles and rose petals, taking you by the hand and kissing you so sweetly while Jisung sits helpless in the corner. Jisung loves watching it all, sitting out and just observing, but because he's so antsy you do have to tie his hands to the armrests of the chair so he can't get up and try to join.

Felix: Changbin. Felix is NOT going to pass up the chance to see you with his favorite Hyung. He isn't super huge on being sucked in general but if it's Changbin, he'll let anything slide. And seeing Changbin being able to manhandle you so easily (not that Felix can't, he just can't toss you and lift you all that easily because of his back) makes Felix determined to work out more often. His favorite part to see is when Changbin literally folds you in half to fuck you easier. He's always learning new positions and techniques from his Hyung. <3

Seungmin: Jisung. Seungmin doesn't trust many of the guys with you because some of them can be so rough in the bedroom and he knows that because he swears he's heard all of them fucking at least once through the years of living together and swapping roommates. He likes listening sometimes, but watching one of his group members with you is so much more exhilarating. And of course he's picking Jisung to ask if he wants to join because he knows the answer will be yes and because he trusts Jisung to not rip you in half in bed. He also finds it a bit amusing how quickly Jisung moves with you, grabbing at your body to try and feel over every inch before his time with you is up.

Jeongin: Felix. His favorite Hyung is always welcome to join the two of you in the bedroom, but Jeongin knows well that he himself isn't interested in a threesome. Not with another guy, at least. So when Felix asks to join in some nights, Jeongin is always happy to say yes and invite him over to the apartment; And Jeongin is never upset about not being able to have sex with you because he's just as happy watching his favorite member taking care of you. Though he always ends up being a bit surprised by how feral Felix can get when it comes to you.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

[moonsaver]

Yanderes who don't care how much you cry .... oughh

Oh, he knows it's so hard to adapt to such a situation, he knows how much you miss your family, your friends, everyone. It's alright. He hushes you, kisses your face, wipes your tears with a thumb, tells you you don't need to miss home anymore, it's right here. And when a heavier fit of crying takes over.. oh, dear.

You can scream if you want. Maybe he's so in love with you he doesn't even mind going deaf. It doesn't matter how loudly you scream, the walls are soundproof anyway. Oh, but your lovely throat is going throb with pain. He can't have you losing your voice, hm?

You can be a brat if you want. He thinks it's alright. You can destroy the furniture, break, throw, smash them to pieces. It's not like he can't replace it. If you get too violent.. well, you'll only hurt yourself that way, dear. He'll tie you down nicely. And he does it so tenderly. With silk ropes and always cooing and chiding at your reddened or bruised skin when you try to resist.

And you can pathetically whine, beg, cry, sob and plead all you want. He'll listen to everything. And when he can tell you're burning out, he hushes you with kisses and softly kneads your sides, massaging and coaxing you to sleep as he softly brushes off all your whining. Perhaps he even works his hands to turn them into moans.

And oh, dear. You're going to be the end of him. He has all the patience in the world for you, though. Until your bones are worn out and he can put them back together when you've made a mess of yourself. He'll always be beside you when you wake up with soft names lovers use for each other. Because, well.. you both are now. And another fit of crying is on it's way. He knows just how to take care of you.

– Sunday, Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Argenti, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Luocha

[ddejavvu]

reader just had a shitty day and the only thing she had to look forward to was her date with spencer but her dress zipper breaks/she has a wardrobe malfunction and that was the last straw for her so she just cries and its just s fuckkkk ton of comfort from spencer? <333

"I'm going to kill myself," You decide, feeling the breeze on your back from your dress that is very much not zipped, "It's over for me, this is my last straw, and-"

"Uh, your- zipper... doesn't close?" Spencer guesses, keen eyes assessing the situation and finding your bare back exposed in the dim lighting of your closet.

"No," You groan, leaning forwards against the wall, all of your weight slumped in defeat, "I was- I was looking forward to wearing this dress all month, and now-" Your voice wobbles dangerously, "And now it's broken, and I don't have anything else that I wanted to wear tonight because this was supposed to be my special dress, and-!"

Whatever the rest of your speech would have been, it's lost in a garbled mess of tears as your shoulders begin shaking. Spencer's there in seconds, and the smooth fabrics of his suit jacket and tie press warmly against the exposed skin that your dress fails to cover. The front sags, and you're surely looking indecent, but pressed up against the wall, you don't care. You just let yourself go, and Spencer's arms snake around your waist to hold you up.

"It's okay." He soothes, his voice calm and kind, "Here's what we're gonna do, okay? Penelope's at home right now, and I know she can fix a broken zipper faster than Derek can bust down a door. And if it doesn't work, we can go shopping for a new one on the way to dinner. We can go to that boutique you were window-shopping at yesterday, and we can get the yellow dress you raved about. Actually, even if Penelope does fix your zipper, we can still get the yellow dress."

You think you know what he's insinuating, but just to be sure, you sniffle and peer cautiously at him from over your shoulder, "Spencer, I can't afford the yellow dress."

He laughs softly, kindly, and kisses a tear off of the apple of your flushed cheek, "I'm buying the yellow dress for you."

"Thanks," You reward him with your own wet, watery laugh, sniffling again as you turn to face him. You've forgotten that your dress has abandoned you, but perhaps that's Spencer's reward for treating you to the yellow dress you'd admired from the window only days prior.

He blushes as though he's never seen them before, reaching out to hike your dress back up onto your chest.

"Change into something a little more- uh, modest for the drive." Spencer suggests, "Otherwise we'll get arrested before we even get to Penelope's, and they're definitely not gonna let us into the restaurant."

[monzabee]

hotch, hotchner and the other hotchner - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: sean meets jack’s nanny. aaron is not happy about it.  

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: girlies are fighting in this one, not much of sean i have to admit, aaron is a little bit of an ass but he comes around, almost crying but not, arguing (duh)

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Family is complicated. That much, at least, you and Aaron agree on. 

“What was I supposed to say?” You ask him, aggressively chopping up the remainder of the carrot in front of you. “‘Sorry, your emotionally unavailable brother doesn’t want to see you, it's because he's so emotionally constipated that he doesn’t know how to speak to you?’” 

Aaron's jaw clenches from where he stands across the kitchen, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and his tie is tugged loose—an unspoken sign that he's not just here as the unit chief tonight. He's here as Jack's father. As Sean's brother. And, apparently, as the man who thinks you're out of line. 

“I'm not emotionally constipated,” Aaron says, slowly and evenly, like he’s trying not to bite. 

You raise an eyebrow, still focused on the chopping board. “Really? Because the last time someone tried to hug you, I swear I saw you glitch like a robot short-circuiting.” 

That gets a flicker of something across his face. Maybe amusement. Maybe guilt. It's hard to tell with Aaron—his expressions are like those security-locked doors at Quantico: hard to crack and probably booby-trapped. 

“You didn’t have to let him in,” he says, quieter now. 

You pause mid-slice and finally look up at him. “He’s your brother. Jack’s uncle. And maybe—just maybe—he was trying to make an effort. You don’t get to be the gatekeeper of someone else's second chance, Aaron.” 

The silence that follows is thick enough to chew on. You don’t break eye contact, and he doesn’t flinch. Typical. It’s been nothing but a war of wills between the two of you ever since he took you to that FBI gala. You’d expect things to be different, and not like this. 

“I trust you with Jack,” he says after a beat, voice gruff. “That doesn't mean I trust you with Sean.” 

The words sting more than you expect them to. Your hand tightens around the knife before you set it down with deliberate care. “Noted,” you say, wiping your hands on a towel. “Next time your brother stops by, I’ll make sure to usher him out with a smile and a cookie. Or better yet—maybe you should actually talk to him yourself instead of having me turn your family members away.” 

Aaron looks away first. 

The sound of Jack's laughter drifts in from the living room—light, effortless, untouched by the adult tension simmering just a room away. You both glance toward the hallway like you’ve been summoned, reminded of the reason you're even standing here, arguing like this. “I'm not trying to come between anything,” you add softly, more to fill the space than anything else. “I just... I care about your kid. That includes the people in his life.” 

Aaron exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. The defenses lower just enough for you to see the man underneath—the tired father, the conflicted brother, the maybe-something-more you haven’t dared to name yet. “I know you do,” he says, finally, but you can see his disapproving expression.  

You pause mid-slice, again, the knife hovering above the cutting board. “He was standing outside your front door with coffee and a damn toy dinosaur, Aaron. What did you want me to do—slam it in his face?” 

“Yes,” he snaps, and it’s the sharpest thing he’s said all night. “If it means protecting Jack from people who only show up when it’s convenient for them? Yeah. I’d rather you close the door.” 

Your hand tightens around the knife before you set it down with more force than necessary. “What is wrong with you?” You ask, eyebrows pulled together in a full-on frown. “He is your brother, and you can’t let him in? What kind of a person turns their own brother away?” 

Aaron’s expression hardens, jaw tightening like he’s grinding down whatever ugly truth is pressing on his tongue. “The kind of person who’s been burned by him more times than he can count,” he says. “The kind of person who doesn’t want his son waiting by the window for someone who doesn’t come back.” 

The words are flat. Final. And they leave no room for argument—but still, you don’t back down. “You really think Jack can’t handle disappointment?” you ask, voice rising now. “He’s a kid, Aaron. He’s going to face a hell of a lot worse in life than a flaky uncle, in fact, he has! What he needs is to see that people can try. That sometimes they come back.” 

“You think I don’t want that?” he shoots back. “You think I don’t wish Sean could be someone Jack can rely on? But he’s not. He never has been. And I won’t risk letting him in just so Jack can watch him walk away again.” 

You cross your arms, the frustration bubbling over. “So what, you just cut him out completely? Pretend he doesn’t exist? That’s not protecting Jack, that’s isolating him.” 

The silence hangs there, dangerous, and just when you think it might settle into something quieter, Aaron speaks again. His jaw clenches before he says, “It’s called setting boundaries,” he bites. “Something you might try sometime, instead of inserting yourself into situations you don’t fully understand.” 

You flinch. Not visibly, but enough that you feel it in your chest—a hitch in your breath, a spike of heat behind your eyes. You open your mouth, then close it again. Because what are you supposed to say to that? He might as well have slapped you. “I wasn’t inserting myself,” you say finally, voice low. “I was trying to help. God forbid someone else in this house give a damn.” 

Aaron exhales harshly, pushing a hand through his hair. “This isn’t about giving a damn. It’s about knowing when to stop hoping someone’s changed just because they showed up with a toy and a smile. You are not Jack’s mother, you don’t get to decide who enters his life for him.” 

You shake your head as the words bitter in your mouth. “You know what, Aaron? You’re not the only one who’s been disappointed by people. You think you cornered the market on pain? On family that lets you down?” He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. The look on his face—tight, unreadable, frustratingly blank—says it all. You wait for something. A flicker of regret. A softening. Anything. It doesn’t come. You blink, once, then again, willing the burn behind your eyes to go away. You won't cry. Not in front of him. Not over this. You turn sharply, wiping your hands on the towel, more of a habit, one last time before tossing it onto the counter. “I’m going to my room, don’t forget to take the lasagna out.” 

Aaron doesn’t stop you. Just watches as you walk away, footsteps brisk and quiet down the hall. The moment your door clicks shut behind you, the tension in your chest snaps like a rubber band stretched too far. You lean against the door for a second, eyes closed, breathing in the silence. It’s thicker in here, somehow. Quieter. Still. 

Family is complicated. That much, at least, you and Aaron agree on. 

The immense need to cry you were feeling moments ago seem to have left its place to anger—it’s an emotion you try bury, but tonight, it claws its way up too quickly, too loudly. You pace the length of your bedroom, fingers curling into fists at your sides, jaw tight. 

Because how dare he. 

You’d stood by him through everything—through the sleepless nights after a case, through Jack’s nightmares, through the moments when he’d forget to eat and you'd wordlessly hand him a plate like it was nothing. You’d been there. Present. Steady. And now suddenly, you were the problem? Just for giving a damn about his family? 

You drop onto the edge of the bed, scrubbing your hands over your face. You don’t cry, but the sting lingers behind your eyes anyway. The thing is—you do understand. Maybe not the full scope of Aaron and Sean’s history, but you know what it means to be disappointed by someone who shares your blood. To want better. To expect worse. To still hold out hope anyway. 

And maybe that’s the difference between you and him. You haven’t yet figured out how to let go of people, even when you should.  

A soft knock interrupts your spiral, softer than you'd assume Aaron would prefer. 

You don’t answer. There’s a pause. 

Then, another knock, and a faint, “Y/N.” You jump up to your feet when you realize it’s Jack at the door.  

“Come in,” you say, your voice softer, hastily wiping at your eyes just in case. 

The door creaks open, and Jack steps in, his tiny arms wrapped awkwardly around a tray that's a little too big for him. There's a plate of lasagna, a fork tucked neatly beside it, and a juice box balancing precariously at the corner. 

“I brought you dinner,” he says, proud and solemn, like he's delivering peace offerings in a war he doesn’t fully understand. 

Your heart clenches. “Hey, bud,” you murmur, crouching down to help him with the tray and setting it aside onto the nearby nightstand. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know,” he says, shrugging a little. “But you didn’t eat. And you always make sure we eat, so I thought… maybe you needed someone to do it for you this time.” 

You don’t trust yourself to speak right away. Instead, you pull him into a hug, holding him tightly against you. His small frame relaxes in your arms without hesitation, and it makes your chest ache. “Oh, Jack,” you whisper, swallowing down the need to cry, “thank you. It means a lot.” 

When you let go, he settles on the bed beside you, legs swinging off the edge. You take a bite of the lasagna, if only to make him smile, and he watches you carefully like he’s checking to make sure you actually eat it. “Uncle Sean and Dad are talking downstairs,” Jack says after a minute, casual, but also not—he sounds like he is testing the waters as he adds, “like… actually talking. Not yelling.” 

You blink. “Really?” 

He nods. “I think it’s your fault.” 

“Jack,” You sigh as you throw him a sideways glance. “That sounds bad.” 

“It’s not,” he says confidently. “It’s like… the kind of trouble people get into when they care too much. You and Dad are good at that.” 

You snort lightly, setting the plate aside. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?” 

Jack shrugs again, then yawns, his head tipping slightly toward your shoulder. You glance at the clock—past his bedtime by now—but you don’t have the heart to send him away. Not when things are so raw. Not when you could both use the company. He shifts a little, curling up closer to your side, and you instinctively reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed, pulling it over both of you.  

“Just for a bit,” you whisper, brushing his hair gently off his forehead. Jack mumbles something into your side that you can’t quite catch. Then he’s still, breathing soft and even. You don’t mean to fall asleep—but exhaustion always has a way of sneaking in when the adrenaline eventually fades with Jack by your side. Downstairs, you can hear the low murmur of voices. You don’t try to make out the words. For once, it’s enough to just know they’re talking. That some part of what you said might have broken through the ice Aaron insists on wearing like armor. 

Maybe tomorrow you’ll talk again. Maybe you’ll yell again. Maybe you won’t. You decide you don’t want to think about it right now—no, you want to fall asleep and just forget that this day ever happened.  

The hallway is dim when Aaron finally climbs the stairs after Sean leaves for the night—with a promise to drop by tomorrow before his train, Aaron doesn’t know what to feel about that. The house is quiet—too quiet—but the kind that makes him hope, not panic. The kind that tells him the storm passed, at least for now. He hesitates outside your door for a moment. Then, carefully, he pushes it open. 

The sight makes him freeze in the doorway. 

You’re fast asleep on the bed, turned slightly on your side. Jack is tucked into the crook of your arm, his head resting against your shoulder, one hand tangled loosely in your sleeve. The blanket’s half-slipped down to your waists, and the tray of now-cold food sits forgotten on the nightstand. 

For the first time that evening, something in Aaron’s chest eases. 

He steps inside quietly, his movements slow and deliberate. He knows he should wake Jack and take him to his own bed. He knows that. 

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he takes the empty tray downstairs and finishes the rest of the dishes. He tells himself that although there is a likely chance that you won’t be forgiving him for all the things he said tonight any time soon, at least you won’t need to deal with dishes tomorrow morning. It’s a peace offering, he decides, though he also decides that there is something therapeutic about doing dishes, so maybe he should consider adding it to his nightly routine. When he eventually makes his way back to your room, the hallway light casts a soft glow behind him, his shadow long and quiet across the floor. He pushes the door open just enough to slip inside again, his gaze immediately drawn to the bed. Nothing's changed. You're still there, curled protectively around Jack, both of you breathing slow and steady. 

He stands there for a moment, unsure of what he’s doing, only that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. The room feels warmer now. Not in temperature, but in something else—something softer. Something that makes his shoulders finally drop from where they’ve been tensed all evening. Carefully, like the movement itself might shatter the fragile peace, he toes off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket. He folds it over the armchair in the corner, glancing once more at the bed before crossing to the other side and easing himself down onto the mattress. 

The space beside Jack is narrow, not quite wide enough for comfort, but he makes it work. He lies on his side, facing the ceiling, his hand resting just inches away from yours. Jack shifts slightly in his sleep, his fingers still tangled in your sleeve, and Aaron watches the way your arm adjusts instinctively, holding the boy a little closer. 

What he doesn’t expect is his eyes to meet yours when they move above. He can see the way you are looking at him sleepily, having just woken up by your slumber. For a moment, neither of you moves. Your eyes are wide, blinking in the dim light of the room, still adjusting. But as they settle on him, there’s something in the way you look at him that makes Aaron’s breath hitch—like you’re not sure what to make of the fact that he’s here, lying beside you, in the quiet space that’s become a little more complicated than it was before. 

He watches the slight curve of your lips, how they seem to want to form a question, but nothing comes out. The silence is heavy, thick with the weight of everything that’s been left unsaid between you two. “Hi,” His voice is low, hushed, as if saying it any louder would disturb the delicate moment. 

You blink a couple of times, your fingers still lightly grazing the edge of the blanket where your arm is draped. “Hi,” you murmur back, your voice hoarse from sleep. Aaron studies you for a beat longer, like he’s trying to memorize the way you look right now, sleepy and soft around the edges, with Jack tucked into your side like he belongs there. 

Maybe he does. Maybe you both do. 

Your eyes flicker down to Jack for a second, then back to Aaron, and you see something flicker across his face—something quieter than regret, gentler than apology. A kind of yearning that doesn’t need words to be understood. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

“You didn’t,” you reply, voice just as soft. “I think I was waiting for you.” That catches him off guard, just slightly, and you catch it. His brows twitch like he’s trying to hide how much that affects him, but he doesn’t look away. He never was good at hiding things from you—not the real things. “Are we going to continue to fight?” 

Aaron doesn’t answer right away, and you don’t push him for an answer either. When he does, it’s almost a whisper. “You’d make a good mother.” 

The words hit you like a punch you weren’t ready for. You blink fast, biting the inside of your cheek. “You don’t get to say things like that,” you murmur. “Not after tonight.” 

“I’m sorry,” his whisper breaks the silence, and you can see he means it—truly, deeply. There’s no defense in his voice, no sharp edges or clipped tone, just regret laced with sincerity. His eyes don’t leave yours, and the quiet honesty and regret in them makes it harder to breathe. 

“I shouldn’t have said the things I did,” he continues, softer now, like even speaking it aloud risks unraveling what little remains between you. “I was angry. Scared, definitely. And that’s no excuse, but…” He trails off, swallowing thickly, the words catching somewhere in his throat. “You didn’t deserve that.” 

You look at him for a long moment, your heart aching with the weight of everything you’ve both carried—what was said, what wasn’t, what hurt more because it came from him. “I’d never want to replace Haley—I've never tried, and I would never.” You glance down at Jack again, his tiny hand still curled into your sleeve, safe and unaware. The sight grounds you. Reminds you that some things, some people, are worth staying soft for, even when it hurts. “You hurt me,” you admit, voice thin with emotion. 

Aaron nods, his jaw clenching like he’s holding back everything else he wants to say. “I know.” 

“And I don’t know if it’s fixable,” you add. “Not all of it. Not overnight.” 

“I’m not asking for overnight,” he says. “Just… the chance to try.” 

There’s something fragile in the way he says it—hope, maybe, or fear—but it’s real. And for once, he’s not trying to control the outcome. He’s just giving you the truth, and waiting to see what you do with it. You let out a slow breath. “Okay.” 

His brow lifts, just a little. “Okay?” 

You nod, brushing your fingers lightly against his under the blanket and hooking your pinky finger against his. “Start here.” 

“Sean and I talked,” he sighs, “I think... I think it went okay.”  

You take a moment to go over his words. You know he’s waiting for you to ask him about it, you can see it in his eyes. You meet his gaze, quiet and steady. There’s a soft beat of silence before you speak again, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Okay,” you say, slow and cautious, “I’m tired. Tell me about it tomorrow?” 

Aaron hesitates, as if weighing your request, before giving a soft nod. “Tomorrow,” he agrees, his voice calm but still thick with emotion. He shifts slightly, trying not to disturb Jack, though the movement feels too large in the quiet room. Aaron shifts again, more carefully this time, and you feel his warmth next to you as he pulls the blanket up just a little higher, wrapping it snugly around all three of you. 

Family is complicated. That much, at least, you and Aaron agree on. 

But his feelings for you don’t need to be—in fact, they shouldn’t be. And he finally realizes that.  

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika HCs with a controversially young girlfriend

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

꩜ .ᐟ "Baby, the lights aren't working again!"

"Fix it yourself I'm busy."

"HOW? *Breakdown*"

And then you throw a tantrum and Sevika gives you your favourite snacks, does the work for you, and has to apologise later albeit a bit grudgingly.

꩜ .ᐟ "No sweets before dinner."

"Lady, you smoke for dinner."

"..."

"..."

"One candy won't hurt a soul." Sevika will groan but allow you one candy, knowing youll manage to get more later but unzipping your top right after.

꩜ .ᐟ Height compares a damn lot because she's so big and you're teeny tiny wifey

꩜ .ᐟ Probably doesn't understand modern terms, if you say "SLAYYYY" she'll get on high alert and whip her head around

꩜ .ᐟ Has caught you midnight snacking way too many times

꩜ .ᐟ Reluctantly gives you piggyback rides in public

꩜ .ᐟ Does your hair for you and is surprisingly gentle at it, likes doing your braids, oiling your scalp, washing your hair for you

꩜ .ᐟ Stares a lot when you wear her clothes because of the way they hang loosely from your frame

꩜ .ᐟ If you're smart about something, she'll genuinely be a little shocked but proud regardless, if you do something smart or invent something she'll genuinely be proud and happy

꩜ .ᐟ Covers your eyes when something too gruesome or indecent happens, does the same with your ears if people curse too badly around her but doesn't coddle you

꩜ .ᐟ Loves flexing her knowledge about the world and teaching you stuff but equally loves it when you do the same with her

꩜ .ᐟ Once freaked out when she lost you at Last Drop and got so anxious-mad, she scared the other patrons and henchmen, once she found you, she hugged you and didn't let go of holding your hand in public for the next month

꩜ .ᐟ Too many 'when I was your age' stories to tell though she barely will reminisce. She'll just tell them to you when you say you're bored and want her to share some of her memories

꩜ .ᐟ Likes comforting you but finds it hard to seek comfort or help from you because she feels like it's her duty to be the more mature one always

꩜ .ᐟ Loves intertwining hands, picks you up when kissing, loves sex because she tosses you around with ease

꩜ .ᐟ Once wrapped you up in a blanket like a burrito and used a belt to tie you up like that because you called her old

꩜ .ᐟ Loves helping you reach taller shelves but also loves watching you struggle, she will likely watch you struggle for a while before she taunts you playfully asking if you need help

꩜ .ᐟ Secretly insecure you'll leave her because of her age or if you find someone more attractive, insecure if her hair gets grey, face gets more wrinkles and body changes shapes

Reassure mama bear she needs it :((

[cherry-coffees]

cat hybrid!Caitlyn x bunny hybrid!reader hcs ♡

hybrid!Caitlyn has the cutest cat ears. When she's stressed after coming home from a long council meeting, you sit beside her on the couch and immediately reach up to scratch behind her ears. She goes limp, her whole body relaxing as her eyes slip shut. Her ears and tail are sensitive; thus, she only allows you to touch them.

hybrid!Caitlyn whose senses are enhanced like a cat's. She pulls you into her arms after you get out of the shower, burying her nose into your hair to inhale the scent of your shampoo. Anytime you get up in the middle of the night, detangling yourself from her arms so that you can go to the bathroom, her ears twitch faintly. It's like, even when she's asleep, her senses are attuned to your every movement.

hybrid!Caitlyn who is possessive. She's a cat, after all – they're naturally possessive creatures. She's always been a little possessive, especially growing up as an only child from a prestigious family. She's used to getting what she wants, and you are no exception. When she's able to get free days off of work, the two of you go out into Piltover for cute dates. Make no mistake: her touches are subtle, but they're claiming. She settles a hand on your waist as you walk, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you browse through the aisles of a shop. She'll praise you when you try on a new outfit, turning you this way and that to fully appreciate you. Hugs you from behind – just in case anyone in the dressing room has any questions as to who you belong to. She's just being safe.

hybrid!Caitlyn whose tail has a mind of its own. She curls it around you waist when you're standing beside her, and she doesn't even notice when you sit beside her and her tail wraps around your thigh instinctually. It constantly betrays her emotions, too, swishing behind her when she's annoyed. Her ears pin down to her head and her tail tenses when she's on edge, occasionally pulling giggles from you because gods she's just so cute.

hybrid!Caitlyn who has the same nature of a cat. She doesn't trust easily, but she's extremely loyal towards the few people that have earned her affections. Namely, you. Caitlyn Kiramman is not a clingy person, but she's can't help herself when she's around you. She calls you into her office when she's working from home just so she can pull you into her lap and kiss your shoulder. "Just wanted to hold you," she murmurs, and as she continues to shuffle through papers, you swear that you hear the faintest purr rumbling in her chest.

hybrid!Caitlyn who used to be embarrassed of her purring. She only purrs when she's content and blissful, but she claims it ruins her properly composed image that she presents to the entirety of Piltover. The first time she purrs in front of you, it's the first time you fall asleep together. You're both tangled in the silky sheets of her king-sized bed, exhausted from the intimate activities that had just taken place. When your head lands against her chest, she can't help the purr that rumbles in her chest, though she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to muffle it. But when you sigh in contentment, murmuring something about how you like when she purrs, her embarrassment seems to melt away. From then on, she purrs loudly whenever the two of you are alone and she has you in her arms. She just can't help it.

hybrid!Caitlyn who loves that you're a bunny hybrid. Your floppy ears are the cutest, and her touch is achingly gentle when she traces a single finger over the soft fur. She loves to leave soft kisses behind them – if only to see you squirm. Sometimes, you'll tie soft ribbons around your ears, and Caitlyn can't help but tug on them affectionately throughout the day.

hybrid!Caitlyn who understands that, being a bunny hybrid, you're easily anxious. You just feel things a little more deeply, and it's something that she adores about you. Though, she knows that it's not always fun for you. When you come back home with furrowed eyebrows, shifting on your feet anxiously, Caitlyn easily scoops you up and cradles you in her arms. She doesn't speak at first, gently purring as you lay your head against her chest, letting you feel the soft rumble that always seems to soothe you. "Are you okay, darling?" she murmurs, tracing a hand up and down your back. "Why don't I make you some tea, and then we can talk about your day when you're ready."

hybrid!Caitlyn who cares a lot if you have other scents on you. Since bunnies are prey animals, scents tend to rub off more easily on you, meaning that you often come home smelling like wherever you've been. Occasionally, if you've been hanging out with one of your friends, their personal scent rubs off on you. Caitlyn can smell if you've been hugging your friends, and she doesn't like it. She likes your friends, make no mistake. It's just that, in her mind, you're hers. Her bunny, her mate. So, when you come home smelling like someone that isn't her, she's gently rubbing her face, ears, and tail against your skin. She trails open-mouthed kisses down your throat, leaving a reddening mark that will show anyone and everyone exactly who your mate is.

hybrid!Caitlyn loves showing you off to her friends. Her inner cat preens when you politely introduce yourself, and she stands behind you so she can rest her hands on your shoulders. As if to say: "look, this is my bunny. Isn't she cute?"

hybrid!Caitlyn swears that, one day, you'll have your own little kittens and bunnies around. Gods, would she love to see you with her little ones. She's not picky, though. As long as you're hers for the rest of eternity, she'll be a happy kitty.

Needed a week to recover from Head Over Heels being so long T-T but we're back with some hcs!! I want to write kpop idol!Caitlyn next but I'm a bit worried that no one will read it sooo lmk if anyone is interested!

~Cherry 🍒

[crowdedimagines]

Tailspin - Bradley Bradshaw

summary: Bradley Bradshaw was happy to retire to the small town of Southport with his two children after their mother had passed. He traded in training pilots at Top Gun in San Diego to being a fire chief for a small town of 3,000.  What he doesn't expect in his small town is a new neighbor who captures his attention. She's making the cross country move from New York promising never to fall for a man quickly ever again and then she meets the hot single dad next door. Yeah right. Between the two of them and everything they have going on in their lives on they going to fall out in a Tailspin?

🤭8.7K omg my baby single dad Bradley and neighbor!yn what else could a girl want?Warnings: domestic violence, stalking, use of Y/n

✿

The loud and clunky engine of the moving truck breaks up the usually peaceful houses that sit all in a row this Saturday afternoon in Southport, California. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone once a shiny red sold sign got slapped on the sale sign for the old McCallum property. They knew it would be inevitable that someone new would be joining their neighborhood. 

Y/n is trying to find the driveway to the house that she’s only seen in person once. Yesterday as a matter of fact when she made the deposit and signed all the paperwork. She manages to park and make her way around to the back of the truck when she sees a young girl standing at the end of her driveway, still on the sidewalk. 

“Hi.” The little girl calls out. She has a piece of chalk in one hand and a bucket with twenty different colors in the other. 

“Hi there.” Y/n smiles, she reaches back to swing the lock on the truck and push the large door open to reveal all of her belongings. Thankfully most things look like they made it intact and she didn’t send anything flying around back there. 

“Did you just move here?” The young girl asks. She doesn’t move her feet from where they are planted on the sidewalk, but leans in to look at all of the stuff in the truck.

“I did-”

“Did you know I live next door?” The little girl interrupts, taking a few steps closer onto her driveway. She points to the house sitting to the right of where they stand. 

“No.” The woman pauses to chuckle, “I did not know that.”

“Did you come all by yourself?” The young girl asks another question and smiles brightly at the woman in front of her. 

“Yeah.” The woman continues to smile down at the curious young girl. She sees her golden curls that sit wildly in a ponytail on the top of her head. Most of it is escaping the small pink tie, Y/n can tell she’s spent a fair amount of time today pushing the stray curls back out of her face. 

“That’s pretty cool.” The little girl smiles finally, “My daddy would never let me do that.” 

“No, probably not.” Y/n squats down next to the girl to be at eye level, “Once you’re an adult though, you can do whatever you want. That’s the fun part.” 

“That’s pretty cool.” Her grin grows wider. 

“You must be an artist.” Y/n nods to the chalk still in hand. 

“Yeah, I am.” The girl attempts to push the loose curls back away from her face, streaking a pale line of pink chalk across her face making Y/n bite back a laugh. “I’m starting the sidewalk because I filled up the driveway.” 

“Do your parents know you’re over here?” Y/n asks, looking around to see who the girl could belong to. How far has she strayed to come say hello. 

“My dad is in the backyard with my brother, they’re working on a new swing set. ” 

“Maybe we should get you back over there-”

“Where did you come from?” The young girl asks yet another question before Y/n can finish her question. 

“Sadie!” A voice calls loudly making them both look up. A tall man with a matching set of curls is making his way around the neighboring house up to the front yard. “Bug, what did I say about leaving the yard?”

He holds his hands up outstretched with concern as he makes his way down the driveway to the sidewalk to make his way over to join them.

Truth be told, Bradley had heard the loud vehicle enter the neighborhood and a few minutes later when he looked around and his youngest was out of sight he knew where she was likely exploring. 

“I wanted to come over to meet her.” Sadie explains while she looks back up to the woman standing next to them with an amused smile, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” She looks up to Bradley and reaches out a hand out to introduce herself to the man in front of her,  “Y/n Y/LN, I just moved in. Or at least I'm about to start the move in.” 

She nods to the house behind her and Bradley reaches out to shake her hand.

“Bradley Bradshaw.” His hand is significantly bigger than hers, rough with life from work but still warm. 

“Nice to meet you.” She covers her face from the sun for a second so she can look at the tall man in front of her.

“So someone finally decides to tackle the McCallum house.” Bradley smiles, “It’s a beautiful property.” 

“Thank you.” She pushes her hands in her back pockets and forces herself to look away and admire the view instead. The beachfront property is close enough to the water that they can hear the waves. “It’s going to be quite the project.” 

“You tackling it alone?” He asks, raising a brow.

“Trying to. We’ll see how long until I throw in the towel and hire out. This is my summer project so I’ll be pretty focused on it.”

“Where’d you move from?” He asks, Sadie grows bored with the conversation and plops down on the ground between the two and begins drawing a flower with the same pink chalk in hand. Now that the adults are talking she forgets that she had been the one to ask that question initially. 

“Sadie, this isn’t our driveway. You need to ask first.” Bradley gently reminds. 

“Sorry-”

“It’s okay, Sadie.” Y/n crouches down next to her again. “Maybe I could get some of your beautiful artwork right here.”

She points to the area they stand in and Sadie quickly goes back to work. 

“I’m from New York City actually.” She stands back up to look at him while answering his previous question. 

“Wow, that’s a complete change of pace. You do realize Southport is about as quiet as it gets, right? I think we only have five stop lights.” Bradley chuckles. 

“We’re less than an hour away from San Diego, so if I never need to get my city fix I can head down there.” 

“I know that drive well, I actually moved here to Southport from San Diego. I was a pilot in the Navy and taught at Top Gun down there.”

“Oh wow.” Her face shows how impressed she is, “Are you still in the Navy then?” 

“No, actually I got out right after she was born.” He gestures down to the girl seated below, she’s working on a bee now. “I actually run the fire department here in Southport.”

“How often do you see anything crazy in this town?” She asks, trying not to focus too much on how tight his tee shirt is stretching across his biceps. 

“I will say there are more cats stuck in trees than fires most days, but I’m okay with that.” 

“Good. I’m sure you got your fill of crazy being a pilot.” 

Is there a Mrs. Bradshaw? She finds it hard to believe that a man that looks like this could possibly be single, but the way he’s looking at her makes her think otherwise. Is it really possible he’s sleazy enough to flirt with the new neighbor in front of his daughter if he’s married?

“I could tell some stories, that's for sure. In fact-”

“Dad!” 

They all pick up their heads to see another member of the family standing in the driveway. The boy must be Sadie’s brother, she had mentioned him earlier. Y/n would guess that he’s around ten and Sadie seems around five years old. He is a total copy and paste of his dad standing in front of her. 

“Bud, we’ll be right back over. Why don’t you go ahead and head in and get washed up.” He doesn’t respond to Bradley, but just turns around and takes off for the front door. 

“Well I’m Bradley and you’ve already met my daughter who is going to give me grey hair before I can turn forty.” He grins making Y/n laugh. He’s even more delicious up close, and Y/n gives herself a second to picture him as a silver fox. It still works. 

“Yeah, she was the welcoming party for the neighborhood. It was very much appreciated.” She reaches down to fistbump the girl making her giggle. 

“Yeah, she’s a stray who wanders the neighborhood even though she knows she’s not supposed to.” He scolds, reminding her while she guiltily looks away. “If she ever comes bugging you, feel free to send her in the direction of home!”

“I don’t know, I’ll never turn down free labor.” Y/n jokes, turning back towards the truck to start unloading things. 

“Well, if you ever need any help with anything I’m just next door.” His eyes rake down her figure and she can tell he does it without thinking when his eyes widen. Sadie continues her own grin obliviously standing between the two of them.

“Let’s get you washed up Bug.” Bradley hoists her up onto his shoulder and walks in the direction of his own driveway. “It was great to meet you, Y/n. Welcome to Southport.”

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Sadie echos with giggles from the top of her dads shoulder. 

“Bye guys!” She waves and makes her way back to the truck ready to get started on hauling everything inside. 

✿

 It was early afternoon when she pulled up to the house and it’s dark out by the time she emptied the entire truck. Doing a close walkthrough of everything it’s alarming how much work the house really needs. Most of it is cosmetic, but some things she knows she’ll need more than a Youtube video to accomplish. She doesn’t have a car yet, but Southport is a small enough town she can walk the short distance into town when she needs things. She meets her neighbor on the other side of her house that morning before leaving. Iris is in her seventies and has lived there for the past forty years. She welcomes her onto the porch for some lemonade. 

“So what brings you to Southport?” The lady asks, taking in the younger woman.

“I needed a change of scenery and Southport was the perfect little beach town to settle into. I was looking for something a little quieter than New York.” Y/n admits.

“Well, something tells me there’s more to that story, but we can table it for a rainy day. Here in Southport you definitely found quiet.” Iris rocks her chair looking out to the neighborhood, “Although it’s more exciting now that you’re here!”

“I don’t know about that.” She shakes her head, still reeling over the fact she wants more information. Information Y/n doesn’t need to be handing out to her new neighbors, this is her fresh start. “Trust me, you’ll be the talk of the town! I see that you’ve already met Bradley.” 

“Yes, his daughter was actually first on the scene for the small town gossip.” Y/n teases. 

“Isn’t Bradley something?” Iris wags her eyebrows causing Y/n to roll her eyes, “He’s available.” 

“He is?”

Iris nods and explains the story of the boy next door. Five years ago his wife Anna passed away from cancer. She was pregnant with Sadie and barely made it long enough to deliver. After that happened, Bradley moved their family to the quieter town where he felt he could be a single dad. He’s spent the past five years here in Southport and is now the fire chief for SFD. Y/n never would’ve guessed that Sadie had lost her mom with how bubbly she was. 

Iris continues to tell her more about the town, the things she should know while they finish their lemonade. Y/n decides to return the empty moving truck and pick up some things at the hardware store so she can get started on some of the projects. She makes laps and laps through the hardware store and becomes well acquainted with Hank who runs it. Hank has had the store for several years and she’s asked nearly a dozen questions and he’s walked her through every single one thoroughly. 

The bell chimes as the door swings open to the small shop. She picks up her head only to meet the familiar brown eyes of her neighbor Bradley. Small town indeed. 

“Hey neighbor.” He pulls his sunglasses off and puts them on top of his head while walking up to her. 

“Hey, how do you feel about a yellow kitchen?” She holds up a paint sample of a bright yellow. The sample shows six shades, but her finger points to a soft butter yellow.

“Your kitchen faces out to the beach, right?” He leans against her shopping cart, looking over her cart and the various things in it. “That’ll be bright with the sun reflecting out on the water.”

“That's kinda the point.” She squints down at the sample still in hand, “I was going for blinding.” 

He snorts and looks up to the color again. The one she’s picked is by far the least horrendous of the options, but he’s still not convinced. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to see it to believe it.” He snorts. 

“Well, I’m afraid I’ll just have to prove you wrong then.” She pushes her cart away, effectively nudging him with the cart. She makes her way up to the counter to order a gallon of that color and grab a gallon of primer as well. Bradley follows her to the counter and waits while she checks out for everything and Hank starts mixing her order. 

“Hey, Hank.” Bradley greets as he steps up to the register. 

“Bradley, I got your order in back! Just a second.” Hank leaves to go grab the order and he’s gone for a minute before he comes back with a large package of sidewalk chalk. Y/n grins while still waiting on her paint, but she knows exactly who the chalk is for. 

“Here ya go!” Hank hands him the box, “Let me know when we need to order some more and I’ll bring it in.” 

“Thanks Hank.” Bradley pays for the chalk before saying goodbye to them, waving to Y/n as he makes his way back out into the blazing California heat. Y/n is waiting for a few minutes for the paint, but Hank gives her extra stir sticks and throws in an edging tool for free to help her out. 

“Where’s your car?” Bradley asks, looking around the parking lot that is vacant save for the Bronco he’s sitting in. She looks up from the sidewalk to see her neighbor has waited for her. The Bronco she’s seen in the driveway next door is running, and he’s sitting inside with the window down. His sunglasses are back on his face. She adjusts her grip with a can in each hand and a bag or two of supplies hooked on various fingers. “You need a ride?” 

“I’m a big girl. I didn’t have a car in New York, but getting one is part of the summer project.” Her voice light and carrying a hint of humor. 

“You’re going to need a car in this town if you’re gonna make it.” Bradley can barely stand it watching the sun beating down on her while she adjusts her grip again. His mother would smack him if she could see him sitting comfortably in the car while she’s beginning to sweat. She just needs to let him give her a ride home. It’s a hot day in Southport and home is at least a mile away. “Even if you city folk are too good for them.” 

“Here I was thinking now that I’m out of the city I can have the luxury of a vehicle.” She teases, “But maybe not, you car people sound kinda judgy.” 

Bradley laughs out an exhale through his nose. He has to give it to her, she’s got a little bite back which makes her even more intriguing. He would struggle to admit it, but the girl next door is the first person to pique his interest in years. He knew it the second he saw her crouched down next to his daughter with a gorgeous smile. This is something new to him, not something he’s felt at all in the past five years. It’s something Bradley didn’t have the time for. Two kids and a busy job kept him more than entertained, even if it meant going home to a cold bed. He watches her wave her hand as best she can with everything she’s holding before throwing a smile over her shoulder and continuing her walk through the parking lot. 

“Let me give you a ride back.” He insists, swinging the door of the Bronco open to get out, he doesn’t want to let her get far. He waited long enough, but his mom seriously would roll over in her grave if he let her walk away. “You’re right on the way and it’s the least I can do for being so judgy. Especially for a neighbor.” 

She pauses her steps and turns to see him already walking around the back to open his trunk. He leans against the back while she debates, her grip on the thin metal handle slips a little. The sun beating straight down on them isn’t helping her case. Her hands are sweating and it’s starting to dig in. He shrugs his shoulders, his mustache can’t block the slight smirk he’s maintained this entire interaction. 

“Alright, I give. My hand is cramping.” She pivots to make her way back in his direction. Bradley meets her halfway to take the gallon of primer from her and load it with everything else into his trunk. He shuts it and quickly makes his way around to the passenger door to pull it open for her. She smiles and thanks him while climbing into the truck. She takes in her surroundings a bit once he shuts the door, the car smells like him. It’s almost overwhelming. There’s a tear in the leather that she runs a finger along on the bench seat, the vehicle is old but very well loved and maintained. She can see a booster seat in the back before Bradley climbs into the car and backs out of their spot. 

Bradley knew the house she had moved into fairly well with it being right next door, he had checked it out when it listed and he was curious. It needed a lot of work. More work needed than the one he settled on next door, but he could argue she had a slightly better view. A larger stretch of beach for the larger house. Both houses back up to the water and sit on a popular stretch of beach for the small town. Houses on the beach needed extra love to stay nice, and with how long it sat on the market it’ll need a lot of it. 

“So lots of plans for the house then?” Bradley asks, the windows are down letting in a breeze. The wind is the only other noise other than the radio that is still playing softly. 

“This is the start really, I’m taking things as they come. I know renovations can be pretty unpredictable so I’m trying to take it one step at a time.” She admits, “I’m starting with the kitchen and first floor since it needs the most work.” 

“You’re experienced in renovating then?” He asks, his eyes peek off the road in front of them to dart to her. He takes in her legs that are on full display in her shorts, her hand rests on the windows ledge wiggling with the breeze. 

“Not at all.” She laughs as his eyes go wide, “I’ve barely picked up a screwdriver unless you count putting together Ikea furniture.” 

“and you’re tackling that entire house by yourself?” 

“You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m quite stubborn when it comes to getting my way-“

“Never would’ve guessed.” He mutters.

“What I mean is-“ she rolls her eyes, “When I set my mind to something I’ll achieve it. I can do this. I’m determined.” 

“I actually have no doubt.” His voice is laced with sincerity and it makes her flush warm inside. She doesn’t know why it suddenly matters what her neighbor thinks of her project, but she’s happy someone else thinks she can do it. 

“Thank you.”

The rest of the short drive is quiet, but it’s comfortable. Bradley wants the drive to last a little longer, but they approach their street faster than he would like. He backs into her driveway to help her unload everything. 

“Thank you, I’m sure I would be sweating my ass off only halfway home by now.” She takes the can of primer from his hand and sets it down on the porch by her front door. 

“Happy to.” He grins, taking a step backwards off her steps back onto the sidewalk while still looking up at her, “You’ll find that I can be very helpful.” 

“You better watch out, I’ll take you up on it.” Her cheeks dust pink from his blatant flirting, but she’s enjoying the butterflies he’s giving her. It’s been a long time since a man has given her butterflies feeling so high school. 

“I’m counting on it.” He nods and continues his walk back to the bronco to move it to his side of the white picket fence. She shakes her head but is unable to wipe the smile from her face even while she carries everything inside. Before she can pull the door shut she hears a voice call her name, she peeks her head out to see Iris is still sitting on her own front porch. 

“Well that was awfully nice for him to give you a ride back.” Iris smiles into her lemonade taking a long sip. 

“Iris, I’m starting to think you’re the cause for all the small town gossip.” She shakes her head with a smile, “I ran into him at the hardware store and I don’t have a car here yet.” 

“Mhm, sure baby.” Iris nods and continues to rock slowly on the porch. 

✿

For days Y/n sets off to work on the house and hit the ground running. She realizes in her research she really shouldn’t paint yet since she wants to resurface the cabinets. She learns how to do that, and after several trips to Hank she manages to sand them down, stain them, change her mind, sand them, restain them and fall in love. It took days but she's happy with the results.

She also spent an afternoon in the front yard cleaning it up. She was joined by Sadie who kept her company while covering her driveway in doodles. 

“What else can I add?” Sadie asks. Today's theme was ocean so she’s managed to fill a lot of the space already with fish, coral, sharks, and everything else they can both think of. 

“How about a sea turtle?” Y/n continues pulling at weeds trying to clean up some from the flower beds. 

“Sea turtle!” Sadie shouts, loving the idea. 

“Hey, ladies.” 

Y/n picks up her head to see Bradley walking out towards them. Over the past week they have interacted a couple times. He had a busy stretch at the station where Y/n really didn’t see him or the Bronco at all for a few days. It was nice however for a couple days not really having to worry about the hot guy next door while being a sweaty mess. So much for that now.

“Hey.” They both call back. 

“I’m embarrassed to say she escaped me long enough to have accomplished this much.” He looks over the expanse of driveway covered in pastel scribbles in vague fish shapes. 

“Daddy, I think Miss Y/n knows more sharks than you.” Sadie doesn’t pick up her focus from the sea turtle she’s working on. 

“No way!” 

“Mhm, she knows what a tiger shark is too.” 

“Wow-”

“Dad, I’m meeting Tanner at the fishing pier.” His son makes another appearance. In all of her interactions with Sadie and Bradley, he’s still a stranger to her. He doesn’t ever leave the beach or his bedroom according to Sadie. 

“Nick, what time do you need to be back?” Bradley asks, turning to watch his son walk down the trail to the beach. 

“Seven, Dad.”

“No later-”

“No later than 7:00pm for dinner. I know, Dad.” He continues his walk and Bradley simply shakes his head. 

“Ten going on twenty.” Bradley jokes, breaking the tension. Sadie hadn’t even picked her head up so it would seem this isn’t out of the ordinary. 

“I don’t even want to picture me talking back to my parents. I’m lucky we made it through my teenage years.” She smiles with a gentle laugh, “What about you? Is this some karmic debt for being a terrible teen?” 

Bradley chuckles before diving into a few stories of his high school years and admits he probably gave his mom a few wrinkles before she passed. He also explains he didn’t know his dad long enough for that. 

“How’d you haul the mulch here?” Bradley questions, changing the subject. He noticed the yard had been cleaned up, but only just noticed the mulch in the flower beds she had been working on before he came over. 

“Iris let me take her car. Apparently she doesn't like driving much anymore.” 

“I could’ve taken you.”

“Wanted to be my knight in shining armor again?” She asks with a confident laugh. 

“Maybe.” He admits, “So, when do I get to see that yellow kitchen of yours?”

“Wanna see?” She takes off the gardening gloves. Sadie jumps to follow, finally setting down the chalk. Bradley wordlessly follows them both up the steps. 

She pulls open the screen door that sits in front of her front door, it squeaks loudly as she pulls it back. Bradley reaches out to push it back and forth a few times. 

“Sorry, I know it’s obnoxious.” She nods her head to invite them in anyway. 

“Hold on, I can fix that.” He leaves the two girls on the porch briefly and walks over to his garage only coming back with a red toolbox. He opens and closes the door a few times again, looking at the hinges. Y/n shrugs to Sadie while they watch him work some magic with WD-40 and a screwdriver. 

“That should do it.” Bradley takes a step back and pulls it back again, this time it’s silent as he moves it open and closed. 

“Okay, you’re definitely getting recruited to help now.” Y/n beams and it makes Bradley smile too. He can’t remember the last time he was this happy to see someone else happy. Sure, he was a good person and liked when people were happy, but something was different about being the cause of her grin. 

He follows her in and immediately Sadie takes off to explore. Bradley has to admit, it does already look nice in here. He’s sure just having furniture in the space helps from when he first saw it. It’s brighter in each room he walks through though, it would seem she’s primed all the walls, but there's a lack of yellow as he walks through the first floor. 

“I haven’t gotten to the yellow quite yet, but it’s not because I’m scared to commit!”

“Yeah right-” Bradley smiles mischievously. 

“No no, it just turns out you shouldn’t start with that if you have a lot else to do. I sanded and stained the cabinets though!”

She proudly poses in front of one and Bradley has to admit it looks nice. She hasn’t changed any of the house's character, but she’s refreshing the space. 

“Okay, I’m impressed.” 

“I would say that now I can start the yellow. In fact-” She grabs the gallon can off the floor and shakes it before cracking it open. Bradley picks Sadie up to rest on his hip and take a peek of the color. 

“What do you think of it, Sadie?” Y/n asks, leaning against the counter eyeing the younger girl. 

“I like it!” She cheers. 

“I do too!” She nods her head to Bradley to prove her point. 

“Congrats on having the same preferences as a five year old.” His voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” She rolls her eyes and focuses her attention on Sadie, “Would you like to do me the honor of the first bit of paint on the wall?” 

It takes a minute to get them set up with paint brushes and rollers. Bradley takes on the higher parts of the walls, working along the entire upper trim. Y/n helps Sadie get set up on a blank wall with a small brush and grabs a roller for herself. It goes fast with the two of them, Sadie also contributing on her wall. 

“Can I hire your guys full time?” Y/n asks, taking a full step back to admire their work. 

“Can’t afford me, babe.” Bradley teases. 

“Yeah, me neither babe.” Sadie mimics her Dad causing everyone to break out in a laugh. 

“Okay.” Y/n dramatically backs up into the archway between the kitchen and the living room. “It’s still drying, but what do we think?” 

Sadie runs over to stand by her and take in the view as well, she waves over Bradley to do the same. He looks at the two girls standing there and how serious they’re both being. With his arms crossed over his chest he walks over to take in the kitchen and the brand new walls. 

The kitchen has a large window that looks out on the deck and beyond to the ocean. The sun is shining bright today, but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t because the room is bright enough on its own. The stain on the cabinets compliment it well and warm up the place. 

“I have to admit, it looks good.” 

“Right?” Y/n cheers, she breaks out a few goofy dance moves before pulling Sadie around to spin with her. 

“You have a lemon kitchen now!” Sadie keeps dancing, letting out a goofy laugh. 

“A lemon kitchen?” Y/n’s jaw drops. 

“What’s next?” Bradley asks, he paces around looking at everything.

“Pretty soon I’m tackling updating that bathroom,” She points to one down the hall, “I had a wonderful idea to open this up and round it off, but I have no idea how to do that. I don’t know if this is load bearing.” 

She reaches up to the large square archway that goes between the kitchen and living room. Bradley reaches up to examine it a little. A rounded arch would look nice, and you would have a better view from the living room. 

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Sadie announces, Y/n points to the same door down the hall and tells her she’s more than welcomed to use it. She comes back to find Bradley inspecting the arch himself. 

“I could help with that. I can’t today because I have to take that one to a dance class in a little bit.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She shakes her head, “That's a big project, helping me paint was already more than enough.” 

“What if we make it a date?” 

“A date?” She asks, laughing with a bit of shock. There have been flirty conversations when they interact, but she’s surprised he’s so forward. 

“Unless you aren’t interested.” Bradley quickly deflects with a nervous laugh, “We haven’t really talked about if we’re both single and-”

“I’m single.” She smirks, it’s fun and so far it’s been rare to see Bradley unsure of anything, “and I’m interested.” 

Bradley sighs in relief at her admission. It would make for an awkward couple of weeks living next door to the first woman he’s hit on since his wife passed. 

“How about this-” He regains confidence now, “You provide beer and pizza, and I’ll bring over everything we need to do this.” 

He points up to the arch and she nods to agree. Sadie comes back out and reminds him her dance class is soon and she still needs to go home to change. Bradley says he can get a babysitter for the next night and it’s a date. 

✿

“Slight change of plans.” Y/n opens the door wider for Bradley and the two children standing in front of him. “My normal sitter got the flu so she couldn’t, so my friend Jake promised to help out, but the open problem is he’s also a firefighter and when I’m not there, he needs to be.”

Jake is one of his Navy buddies, Y/n remembers the name. He retired two years ago and made the move up here to the small town where his god daughter lives.

“That's okay.” Her voice light, “Happy you guys could still make it.” 

“Nick, have you met Y/n?” Bradley asks. 

“Hi.” He barely looks up from the switch in his hands. He couldn’t be less interested. 

“Hey, Nick. Nice to meet you.”

Bradley has to nudge him to reciprocate the sentiment. He mutters a ‘yeah whatever’ before they both launch off to the couch while the couple lingers by the door. 

“These are for you.” Bradley pulls a bouquet of yellow daisies from behind his back. 

“Thank you.” She can’t help but smile widely. The yellow is perfect, and she’s pretty sure she’s unpacked a vase she can use for them. Bradley looks her over, scanning for any hint of irritation at his plus two for the night. 

It wasn’t his plan at all, and he’s interested enough he was genuinely scared of scaring her off by doing this. She’s already been so good with Sadie. Deep down he knows that if she had a big reaction to this, she wouldn’t be the one for him. His children are a priority to him, it can’t hurt to know that from day one. She doesn’t seem upset at all. 

Bradley heads back outside to get some of his tools needed and Y/n gets Sadie set up with Moana on the TV and Nick focuses on his switch still glued to his hands. She called for a pizza delivery one for them and adding a cheese too for the kids, Bradley didn’t even have to ask. 

“So, Navy pilot turned fire chief?” She asks, reaching out for her bottle of beer. They’ve got everything set up and he told her the game plan for how they’ll do everything. She knows things about him, but they don’t know a lot about each other. Y/n has gotten more from Iris about him than himself other than cheeky comments. 

“Yeah, I wanted to stay active. It would’ve been a big shift to go from that to a desk job.” He pulls down the piece of drywall he just cut off. 

“Trust me, the muscles are appreciated.” She blatantly ogles him, causing him a rare blush. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He nods in his spot, “Yeah, I started off volunteering, which turned into working full time, which turned into the old chief retiring last year.” 

“Was the stache a requirement for the position?” She teases, he snorts out a laugh. 

“No, I had it before, believe it or not.” He grins. 

Building out the rounded arch is a little more extensive as a project and she’s glad she’s got Bradley’s help as he walks her through everything they're doing. It takes a few hours, a few different movies for the kids, but eventually they get almost done. The kids are both completely asleep on the couch by now, it’s gotten dark out. 

“Okay, I think we need to cut this.” Y/n holds up the last piece of trim “You wanna cut this, please?”

She bats her eyelashes looking up at him, leaning in holding out the board. He’s already taught her how to make the cuts on the saw in his garage. She's on her fourth beer, and he’s on his third. He has to admit, renovating was never a good date idea but he’s pleasantly surprised at how well they work together. 

“I can take care of it, but only if you promise to be impressed with my skills.”

“When can I see your other skills?” She teases, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. 

“God, you sure know how to make a project hard.” He sighs, taking a deep breath. 

“Hard? I haven’t even gotten started w-” Bradley cuts her off with a single finger pressed to her lip. 

“My children are in the next room.” He reminds. 

“Oh my god.” She cowers into his chest, hiding from embarrassment causing him to shake around her in a laugh. “That’s not funny.” 

“I’m gonna go cut this.” He presses an affectionate kiss to her forehead before heading outside to his garage for the saw. By the time he comes back with everything cut to size her cheeks aren’t on fire anymore. He can see that she cleaned up the area for him to frame it out. He hits it with the nail gun quickly and the job is done. 

He sits on her large island with her looking at the work they’ve completed. 

“Hell of a job.” She reaches out to cheers her beer with his. 

“This has to be one of the most unconventional dates I’ve ever been on.” Bradley admits, “That’s gotta be up there.” 

“What? You mean you don't typically bring your whole family on first dates while you’re helping them remodel?”

She leans in to bump her shoulder into his teasing him. 

“If my mom could see me now, she’d be kicking my ass.” He laughs with a shake of his head. He breaks his stare on the two kids sleeping on the couch to look over to her, “A lady deserves your full attention on a date.” 

“I happened to very much like this date.” She bravely reaches out to connect their hands. His warm and enveloping hers as he runs his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand. 

“I wanna go home dad.” 

Both their heads snap up to see Nick is very much awake now. His glare focused on their intertwined hands, which Y/n slowly drops. 

“Yeah, bud. Why don’t you head home and I’ll be right behind you with the princess there.” 

Y/n smiles looking at the tiara on Sadie’s head while Nick makes his way out the front door. 

“Ahh, I’m sorry about him.” Bradley sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gets up from the counter, “He’s just-”

“Ten going on twenty.” Y/n smiles repeating his phrase from last week. Patting his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t wanna push any boundaries.” 

“You aren’t. I can’t even explain how happy you’re making Sadie.” He rests his arms on the counter around where she’s still sitting. It's an intimate position but it’s comfortable, “I think she’s almost as obsessed with you as I am.”

Y/n fights the urge and fails to stop herself from running her fingers through his hair. He sighs in relief and leans in closer. 

“I’m kind of obsessed with you too.” She whispers, leaning to brush her lips against his ear.

“You’re something else.” He mutters. 

Bradley scoops Sadie up from her spot on the couch while Y/n cleans up the bottles they’ve littered all over her kitchen. 

“Have a good night.” He smiles, pausing by the front door. 

“You too.” She takes a few steps closer to them to say goodbye and open her front door. 

“We do a movie night every Friday night. Do you want to come over tomorrow?” Bradley asks, hoping to continue his trend of seeing her everyday. 

“I’ll be there.” 

She didn’t let it be known that she was shocked he invited them over for a movie night. Y/n would say she’s gotten to know Bradley pretty well over the last couple of weeks, Sadie almost more so. Nick however has been a different story. Y/n hasn’t crossed the fence over to their house at all so far. Each of their interactions getting stronger than the last.

Bradley gets up early to work a twelve hour shift before coming home at 6 to get the house ready for her to come over and join them. Sadie was thrilled to find out about the special guest for the night.

“Why is she coming?” Nick asks from where he’s glued to the stairs. 

“Because I invited her, Nicky.” Bradley makes another lap through the living room picking up miscellaneous toys off the ground. A soft knock on the door has him whipping around to face it. 

“Y/n!” Sadie yells and leaps off the couch to open the front door. Bradley walks up to stand behind his daughter and greet Y/n. 

“Hi, you guys.” She smiles warmly at the kids. Bradley drinks in the yellow sundress she has on. Her hair is laying down air dried like she recently showered and he’s dreaming of her shampoo already. He opens the door wider so she can come in and he can see that she’s brought something over. “I made cookies too, it feels fitting for a movie night.”

“What kind are they?” Sadie already reaching up to take the container right out of her hands. 

“Chocolate chip.”

“Sadie, after dinner.” Bradley warns and she gives him her best pout to give in. She simply shakes her head and she releases her grip. Nick stands up abruptly from the stairs and turns to go up them. 

“Nicky, where ya going? We’re about to start something.”

“I’m not watching tonight.” Nick shouts back as he continues going upstairs. Y/n’s face goes pale and she looks at Bradley. She knows that the likely reason is her presence.

“Maybe I should go.” She takes a half step back toward the door. 

“No, please don’t go.” Bradley places a hand on her arm holding her there, “Let me just talk with him for a second.”

Bradley takes off up the stairs and Sadie simply pulls Y/n further into the house. They talk about dinner and what movie to watch and by the time they’ve decided something Bradley has convinced him to come back down. 

They eat together at the table, Nick is still quiet but Y/n catches him smile a couple times. She doesn’t wanna push it and address him directly, but he does answer a few of her questions about fishing. 

Nick ends up picking Transformers for his movie, Y/n learns that that take turns in a rotation each week for who picks the movie. Sadie whines for a minute, but settles into a spot right next to Y/n for the movie. Bradley and Y/n share a grin while they both watch her inch closer and closer before Y/n just extends an arm to let her lean in. By the time the movie is finished its bedtime.

The kids make their way to bed, Bradley reminding them to brush their teeth. Sadie insists that Y/n help her pick out her pajamas. Bradley picks up stray laundry from Nick’s floor, listening to the girls giggle in the other room. Nick is already under the covers, his switch on and pulled up close to his face.

“Is it so bad having her around?” Bradley asks quietly, giving Nick a chance to talk about the woman in the next room. Tonight was the longest stretch she's been with both of the kids, and it wasn't perfect but it was better than any previous interaction.

“I don’t want a new mom.” 

Nick doesn’t dare pick up his head to look at his dad.

“No one said anything about her being a new mom. Mom was mom, and that’ll never change. Y/n is kind and she might not be a bad friend to have, buddy.” 

Bradley is met with silence. 

“Did you know she used to go fishing with her dad?” Nick picks up his head to look at his dad now. 

“Really? Why was she asking me how to do stuff then?” 

“Hmm, maybe she wanted to connect with you on something. She knows you love fishing. Maybe you can help her get back into it this summer. You’re good at teaching, Nicky.” Bradley reaches out to ruffle his hair up causing them both to laugh. 

“Ok Daddy, I’m ready for my bedtime story.” 

Y/n is standing in the doorway with his mini me standing next to her. It would seem they settled on the pink striped pajamas. Bradley gives Nick a loud smooch kissing him on the forehead before leaving his room to move to his daughters.

“I’m gonna wait downstairs.”

“Goodnight Y/n!” Sadie reaches out arms to hug her, “Goodnight Sadie.” 

She leans her head back towards Nick’s door.

“Goodnight, Nick.” She calls, he responds with a simple ‘night’ but she’ll take anything at this point. Bradley watches her make her way back downstairs and she smiles back at him over her shoulder feeling his eyes on her. 

Bradley reads her a story and manages to drag out one long enough for her eyes to be heavy by the end of it. He softly shuts her door and peeks in on Nick before shutting his too. He makes his way downstairs and notices the absence of the person he’s looking for. 

He scans the kitchen and living room before he sees the back of her head out on the back patio. He slides open the sliding glass door and she turns to see him, a grin blooming on her face. He joins her on the outdoor couch, kicking up his feet next to hers. 

“These past few weeks have been amazing.” Bradley admits, they both lookout towards the water, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her in closer. 

“They have been.” She admits, “I have to say, you have been quite the surprise. This is one of the last things I could’ve expected with moving here.”

“You weren’t looking for a relationship?” He asks. 

“Not at all.” 

His heart stills for a second. They’ve never really had a conversation about what they’re both looking for, but she’s in his life already. In Sadie’s life already too. It's only been a couple weeks, but he's already felt such a strong connection.

“Pleasantly surprised though.” She clarifies. 

She pauses to clear her throat and lean back a little to really look at him. 

“I need to tell you something.” She admits, her heart is racing with anticipation knowing she can’t go back now. She doesn’t want to have this conversation either, but knows that she needs to with the relationship heading where it is. It’s serious and she can’t let him let her all the way in without knowing why she’s actually here. 

“Don’t tell me you just wanna be friends” He jokes. 

“No, trust me I could not be just your friend.” She presses a hand to his chest, “I just wanted to talk about how I ended up here.” 

“Fresh start, right?” He reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. He’s radiating warmth and it makes her want to lean back in closer and drop the conversation all together.

“Exactly. I needed a fresh start, but I didn’t tell you what it was from.” Y/n takes a breath and Bradley gives her all the time in the world, “I had a relationship with a man named Matt for four years. We were pretty serious, but I ended things when I had to get seventeen stitches and this arm was in a cast for two months.”

Bradley completely stills and his eyes dart between hers while he takes in all the new information. 

“Oh, Y/n.” He sighs. She’s got tears in her eyes, but she knows she needs to get through this. Bradley gives her the time to gather her thoughts completely. 

“I ended things and got my own apartment in a different burrow. I had to get a temporary restraining order, but he kept waiting outside of my office. He broke into my apartment a month before I moved in next door.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Bradley admits. “I was in a total tailspin.” She admits, “So, I took his ass to court and went back and forth for weeks before we reached a settlement. His parents were the ones who arranged a deal and convinced him to leave me alone. In return for dropping the charges I was paid off. It was enough to get away and start a new life.” 

He leans over to pull her in close to his chest, her head resting against it. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and lets his hand run down the back of her head a few times before he can really gather his words. 

“I’m so proud of you.” His lips murmur into her hair. She can’t help but pick her head up to pull back and look at him. 

“Proud?”

“Of course. That’s an impossible situation to be put in and you were able to get yourself away and start a new life. It’s brave to pick up and move away. Change your life.”

“You of all people think I’m brave?” She questions with a grin. “Mr. I literally run into buildings that are on fire and I used to fly planes on impossible missions?”

“I do, which is saying something.” He chuckles, “But seriously. I don’t think you understand how strong you actually are.”

She reaches out so her fingers brush the curls on the back of his neck. She can feel the goosebumps she’s raising as her fingers dust over the back of his neck. 

“Y/n.’ He says her name softly, but something tells her it would come out horse if he tried to say it any louder. 

Just with that little whisper she tilts her chin up with her eyes locked on his to kiss him. Slow at first, still smiling but tasting the warmth of his lips and the faint salt from the sea clinging to him. She’s sure she tastes like it too, not very sweet. 

He loves the salt, it tastes like home. He responds with his hands gripping her waist to pull her onto his lap while deepening the kiss. It’s raw and honest, pulling them into each other and forgetting the whole ocean behind them. The waves and the world fade out for a few minutes while they just focus on each other and what feels good. 

They break apart, both needing a full breath of air. His fingers are still holding her dress bunched up at her hips, revealing the white lacy thong she had on underneath. 

They don’t speak for a minute still catching their breaths, the sound of waves curling against the beach come back into focus. Her lips are swollen and Bradley is sure he couldn’t be any better off. He reaches out to let his thumb brush against her cheek, she leans into the touch. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

PART TWO!

YOU GUYS! this has been my baby that i have been sitting on for so long, and i have so many ideas where i want to take it i had to split it up.

please let me know if you want more to this series!!! this is heavily inspired by the Safe Haven by Nicolas sparks

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡

warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.

when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.

"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.

it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.

when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.

but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.

"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.

"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.

"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.

dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.

"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.

"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."

you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.

"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.

"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.

his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.

"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.

"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.

"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."

you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.

"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.

he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.

dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."

he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.

dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.

"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.

dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @https--roman, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite ִ ꒱

[iamthatonefangirl]

miss possessive - congressman bucky barnes

okay not my best work, i swear i have like nine drafts i've come up with in a week, none of them good enough to post.

this is inspired by miss possessive by tate mcrae even though i completely lost sight of the song really quickly

part 2

part 3

~~~

you really had no right to be so jealous.

you watched him from across the floor, sipping on your flute of champagne. you'd grabbed it off of one of those waiters' trays as they were walking about the room.

it tasted like shit. you didn't like the taste of wine, and it wasn't even enough to get you drunk.

you knew this kind of event was difficult for him to sit through, but hey, he made his choice going into politics.

you watched as he made his rounds, speaking to various donors and attempting to charm them. you watched as all their wives fawned over your-

no.

you watched as all their wives fawned over him, bringing him in for a hug instead of a handshake. of course they were interested; he was the best looking man here. yes, he was the oldest man in the room, but appeared to be the youngest and was, regardless, easily the most attractive. and all the thirty-some wives of the cranky old rich white men wanted him.

it pissed you off. not that you had the right to be pissed, but. oh well. you're just a girl.

after two flutes of champagne, you watch as one of the donors receives a phone call, leaving his wife with Bucky. ever the gentleman, he would never leave a woman all by herself in a room full of sharks who might try to snatch her up. 

Bucky was very much a different man than he was in the forties, of course. doesn't mean he lost the ability to attract every woman in the room.

you can't stand idly by as she puts his hands all over him, and he can't take his eyes off of her. no, of course he would never go for a married woman. what he did know, though, was that if he pissed her off, her husband wouldn't donate to his campaign.

you roll your eyes and decide it's time for some hard liquor.

you hide in the corner of the room, drinking your much stronger beverage as fast as possible. no, getting drunk at a professional event isn't the best idea, but what do you care. you're not the star of the show.

he is.

he's the brilliant ex-POW who's turned his entire life around in a whole new century. he's the gorgeous soldier who not only survived, but is also electing to do something meaningful with his life. 

he's the star tonight.

he's the star of every thought you have of your future, but that can't possibly come to surface now. it's not the time or place. 

watching him entertain this woman truly boils your blood, but at least you have some actual alcohol in your system now. you no longer feel the need to justify why her hands on his pristine suit makes you want to grab her by the diamonds around her neck and yank her off of him. you can justify your desire to grab him by the tie to pull him away from her and yell at him for not focusing on what's important. 

you bite your tongue. you knew it was all a ploy.

doesn't mean you had to like it. 

~~~

while you stand at the bar waiting for your second beverage of the evening, a man comes up next to you, and the bartender takes his drink order. 

you give him a small, awkward smile as you briefly make eye contact. you're kind of shocked: he's definitely the only man in this room who appears to be younger than 60, Bucky excluded.

you almost startle when he speaks up, introducing himself. Michael, he says his name is.

you turn to actually face him this time. roughly 40, plenty taller than you, and brown hair sprinkled with some greys in there. your perfect type. you quietly tell yourself you're done drinking–no way you're gonna fuck this up. if you weren't so mad about Bucky's new admirer, you might be a tad less inclined to speak to him, but… 

you step closer as you give him a real smile and introduce yourself.

"so, correct me if I'm wrong, but something tells me you're here alone tonight," he begins, indicating to your left hand. no ring. 

you laugh a little. 

"you would be correct," you tell him. "I could say the same about you."

he smiles back at you. it's so beautiful you forget all about your boss and the woman he's now got on his arm as he continues to walk around–

well. you almost forget. good enough.

"you would also be correct."

you explain why you're here, you work for one of the candidates. although, you don't tell him who, exactly. he explains why he's here, one of the patrons. you have to pry the information out of him, but you appreciate it: he's trying to talk to you without flashing his money in your face. it's noble, you think.

you eventually learn he's interested in actually getting to know the candidates' campaigns, not just what they think they can offer him in return for his money.

"you know, I would be happy to learn more about your boss' campaign. from one of the people who probably understands it best," he tells you. you're slightly taken aback for a moment, not aware this was a business interaction. you never even told him who your boss was, so it was confusing, to say the least.

you felt stupid for thinking he was actually interested, for thinking that he was flirting with you.

"oh, of course-" you begin to tell him, but he interjects, "after I take you out, perhaps?"

your smile perks back up subconsciously. so you didn't have it wrong.

"I would love that," you tell him, carefully taking the lapels of his jacket into your hands. you feel his hands come to your waist, and it's like a jolt of energy runs up your spine.

you look closer and almost flip your shit as you see his eyes up close. they're Bucky's eyes. he's not Bucky, sadly, but. 

you're fucked.

"maybe dinner can happen... another time?" you offer, hoping he gets the hint. you realize you probably look like a whore throwing yourself at him like this.

he chuckles. "I've got a room upstairs, if you'd like to come have drinks instead of dinner."

hell yes. you're gonna score tonight, even if it's not with the man you dream about with your hands between your legs every night-

"I would," you say, and bite your tongue. "I just... have to stick around until this thing is over. yeah?"

he nods and steps back. "I suppose I should also do what I came here for," he chuckles. "I'll come find you later?"

you smile and you feel your face go pink. "sounds good."

you can't help the fact that your gaze reverts immediately back to your boss the second the man walks off. Bucky hasn't spared you a single glance all evening, but the second you look back at him this time, you're suddenly staring into his beautiful eyes. 

he holds eye contact with you for what feels like an eternity. his expression is muted, no real emotion showing. maybe... curiosity?

of course he's not going to look mad, or upset, or jealous. you have to stop thinking he'd ever look at you with anything other than pure professionalism.

because he's everything. and you're just a kid, lost in the world, desperately in love with your boss, and everything is fucking falling apart around you.

at least you've got a rich, hot, older man ready to fuck you tonight.

~~~

you kept to your word to yourself and didn't drink for the rest of the night, although you continued hovering at the bar for the semblance of safety it provided.

you continued staring at Bucky for the next two hours. the clingy woman's husband had, in fact, returned and took her away from Bucky. clearly, she was pissed, but tried to hide it. you had to bite back a smirk.

he didn't look back at you once for the rest of the evening.

eventually, the crowd dies down. you realize that now, you have to explain to your boss that you won't be riding back to the office with him, effectively telling him your exact plans for the rest of the night. embarrassing!

you're almost ready to bite the bullet and bid Bucky a good night, scanning the room for him, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

"we still on for drinks?"

you plaster a smile on your face as you turn around to the man standing behind you.

"absolutely," you say, taking his hands. "lead the way."

you begin to follow the man, telling yourself to try and remember to shoot your boss a text to 'not worry about you' before getting your clothes torn off by this man who's currently whisking you away.

you get into the elevator with him, what's his name, you think? oh, Michael, and yank him in hard, crashing your mouths together, putting all of your energy into how badly you need this.

you're startled by the sound of a clanging of metal, ripping your mouth away from the man's and turning to face the noise.

well, apparently, you were too eager and stupid enough to not wait for the elevator doors to entirely shut, because you see now that the noise was a result of Bucky's vibranium arm grabbing the elevator door. he pushes it open and steps inside, eyes piercing daggers through you the whole time.

you stand there, appalled. the man gently pulls away from you, reaching out a hand to attempt to shake Bucky's hand.

"Mr. Barnes, it's a pleasure," he begins. "my apologies for this... less than ideal meeting."

Bucky doesn't even look at the man, eyeing you up and down, taking in your smudged lipstick and the way your dress is slightly out of place.

the man attempts once more to interject. "Mr. Barnes, please, don't worry about her. why don't us men go back downstairs and have a real discussion? I'd love to hear more about your campaign."

wait. why do his words sound like they're throwing you under the bus, almost?

Bucky notices it, too, you realize. he tilts his head in the man's direction before actually averting his gaze to look at him.

"and leave the lady all by herself?" he asks.

"don't worry about that. she's... inconsequential. if you and I can just go back downstairs and–"

"what did you just say?" Bucky asks. you swear he doesn't look like your boss anymore, but someone... else.

the man is taken aback by Bucky's demeanor. his mouth gapes like an idiot.

"you do know this is my assistant, right?" Bucky asks him. the man's face goes pale as the pieces slot together in his head.

"Mr. Barnes, my apologies, truly," he says.

you just stand there feeling more stupid than ever. inconsequential? wow, okay. you almost don't even care that he's dismissing your entire existence, but you can't stand the fact that he's doing it in front of Bucky. you care more about what Bucky thinks of you than literally anyone else, and now? now he's going to see you as a fucking slut who isn't even good enough for a man to commit to for one night.

god, you're pathetic.

"shouldn't you be apologizing to her?" Bucky grits.

the elevator doors open to the man's floor, and he mumbles a sorry under his breath as he runs out.

great. not only do you look pathetic in front of your boss, but you're not getting fucked tonight, either. just great.

the doors shut behind Bucky, who has now returned his gaze to you. you wonder if he's going to press the button to go back to the lobby.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Barnes," you say, swallowing your embarrassment as you stand up straight and adjust your dress.

he just stares at you.

"what?" you ask.

"are you okay?" he asks, and he looks genuinely concerned.

you know he cares about you, you're his assistant, after all. but that's it.

"fine," you assure him, and begin to reach behind him to press the button to take you back down to the lobby.

he gently grabs your wrist before you can.

you look at him, confused. you know your face says it all.

"Mr.–" you begin.

"Bucky," he corrects.

"can I press the button, Mr. Barnes?"

he still hasn't let go of your wrist. you feel stupid for enjoying the feel of his metal hand against your skin, for getting to feel a part of him that's real.

"you know, you clearly picked out the worst of the men here tonight," he observes.

you roll your eyes and pull your wrist away from him before you do something stupid.

"are you kidding? this place was riddled with capitalist billionaires and politicians. like you," you say, smirking.

he chuckles a little.

you can't help yourself, though. can't let it go unsaid.

"clearly you had some interested parties of your own tonight."

he rolls his eyes and finally turns away from you, pressing the button for the lobby. you let out a quiet sigh of relief. being in this elevator any longer, with him? that would just about kill you.

"you noticed that, huh?" he asks.

"who didn't?" you mumble. but of course, he's not just a politician, he's an enhanced, so he hears it.

"look, I knew she was married, I was never going to-" he begins to explain, but you cut him off.

"oh, I don't care what she does in her own fucked-up marriage."

oh my god. what did you just say? did you just admit to the fact that the only reason you did care was because she was fawning over Bucky?

fuck.

the elevator doors open, and you rush out.

you can hear the smirk on his face as he trails after you.

"so, you were really going to sleep with that guy, huh?" he teases.

you stop in your tracks. most everyone has left by now, leaving only you and Bucky in the room aside from the clean-up crew. you turn back to face him.

"can we just go?"

he nods and calls for the car to come around.

~~~

twenty minutes, you remind yourself.

in twenty minutes, you'll have made it back to the office, and you can go get in your own car and take yourself back to your own place and you won't have to be sitting thigh to thigh with your boss in the back of a limo that would totally be hot to fuck in-

he clears his throat, and you turn your head to face him.

"what that guy said..." he begins. you roll your eyes in anger at the reminder. you didn't even care he said it, you just wish he hadn't said it in front of Bucky.

you wave your hand as though waving off the thought, and waving off Bucky's concern. but it doesn't quite work like that.

"you're not inconsequential."

he says it with such a conviction you feel it deep in your bones, in the very core of your being. he sounds so authentic that it almost hurts.

a million thoughts swirl in your head. you could say i know, you could get defensive, you could say thanks, Bucky...

a better one pops in your head.

"how did you know where I was? you didn't see me all evening."

the limo stops moving. the driver rolls down the divider to grumble something about traffic at this hour? before rolling it back up again.

great. now it's going to take even longer to get home to your vibrator.

Bucky sees the interruption as a way to drop the matter. you press it.

"Mr. Barnes?"

"god, would you stop calling me that?"

you see him turn away from you to look out the window, biting his lip and rubbing his forehead. you've now frustrated him, and he's mad at you. this is good. it's easier for you to deal with him being angry at you than him being nice to you.

you know he just wants you to call him Bucky, but you're a smartass.

"yeah, okay, sorry. Sergeant Barnes," you mumble, smirking to yourself.

he about flips his shit. why is he getting so worked up?

"seriously?" he asks, turning back to you. his eyes are blown back, in anger, probably. not lust, like you wish they were. because you're just a stupid kid, and he's just your boss with a lifetime of trauma. you could never understand him the way you wanted to.

"what?" you say, biting your lip as you smile, continuing to tease him.

you swear that for a second, he glances down to your lips.

SHIT!

in that embarrassing moment, you realize your lipstick is still smudged across your face from the moment in the elevator. your heart rate shoots up as you bury your head in your chest, bringing your hand to wipe away the mess of your face, before turning to face the opposite way from him.

you are, well and truly, stuck in traffic. some concert, or sports game, or whatever...

which means you're stuck, pressed up against your boss, in the back of this tiny limo right now, for only god knows how much longer.

you're pulling your phone out of your clutch when he says your name.

you want to lean into the feeling, how smooth it is. how crisp his voice is, how pretty it sounds saying your name, as though he's genuinely paying you any attention whatsoever.

"you're not inconsequential."

it flares your anger, all of it coming up from your gut and into your throat, as you respond.

"god, would you forget it already?" you snap.

shit, shit, shit. you fucked up. you just snapped at your boss, of all people. you try to backtrack, throw out a million comments of "sorry," but that's it, you're getting fired.

you finally look back at him, and he's actually looking at you. like, it feels like he's staring into your soul, seeing all the pieces of you that you're trying to keep hidden from him.

the car begins moving again.

~~~

he watches you, trying to figure you out, as always.

he can't think of a better word for it than the fact that you genuinely amuse him.

he sees the look in your eyes, the way you're desperately trying to cover up the shame you feel over what happened in the elevator. he's trying to be gentle about it, trying to assure you that what the man said was utter bullshit, but you keep shutting him down.

god, and you look so...

no. you're, like, 80-plus years younger than him (he rubs his temples every time he remembers his age) and employed by him. any interest on his part would be purely inappropriate, a gross misuse of his position of power.

and god, his fucking age, man. he shouldn't even be around anymore-

anyways.

you look at him with those fucking doe eyes, going back and forth between anger, and shame, and something else he can't quite pinpoint.

this is probably the worst part of what happened. you're always so unapologetically yourself, but he can tell this man has gotten under your skin.

even if it's not his job to comfort you, he doesn't want you to feel like that. because who you are is perfect. 

~~~

one minute, you're staring into his eyes, trying to read the look on his face. 

the next, you're bracing yourself as the car spins out of control, feeling hit after hit of various cars all crashing into you sequentially.

you don't register it until after it's all over. the way he's wrapped himself around you as though to protect you. his flesh arm cradles your head to his chest and his vibranium hand wraps itself around the back of your neck.

you take a few deep breaths and begin to pull away from him, looking up to his face as you do. his eyes widen in shock as he looks at you. what? what is it?

"fuck, we gotta get you to a hospital." 

~~~

part 2

part 3

masterlist

tag list

tagged: @clavedelune

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: hey guys :) this is actually my first time ever writing something so this is lowkey kinda scary. BUT, I really really wanted to write a slow burn between Rafe and his best friend, cause I can see that happening, who doesn't want that anyways? If it works, this'll deffo be a series cause I have a whole concept behind it, guess we're going to have to wait and see. The pictures are taken off pinterest so credit to whoever's they are.

(may have suggested bi!reader, see if you can spot it)

warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of drugs, sexual innuendo's, someone throwing up, just Rafe being whipped for his bsf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The classroom was bright, colourful colouring cladded the walls, the blue-tack melting slowly in the sticky heat. Rafe sat by himself, struggling to tie his shoes, his father insisted he wore them and learnt to do them himself, his mother however sceptical complied, trying to teach her sweet boy how to do them before they left the house. His face was scrunched in concentration, but no matter how hard he tried, the laces wouldn’t cooperate. 

“Do you need help?” The quiet voice rang out from across the boy, the young girl kneeling beside him. He looked up, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“I can’t do it,” he muttered angrily, glancing at the messy knot he’d made on his shoe. She smiled, her pigtails bouncing as she leaned closer. 

“It’s okay. I can show you.” Gently, she untangled the laces, her fingers tugging at the blue strings as they came apart. Explaining each step as she worked she focused on the shoe.

 “First, you make bunny ears…” She continued telling the story her babysitter taught her as she learnt to tie up the strings into little bows.

“Thanks,” Rafe said sheepishly, looking at her with a small smile on her face, the girl reminded him of his mom, she was... nice.

“You’re welcome,”  she replied cheerfully, standing up, clasping her hands in front of her as she rocked back and forth on her heels, her red gingham dress swaying along with her movement.

“Wanna play blocks with me now?” He nodded eagerly, taking her hand. Together, they walked over to the small table, the awkwardness of moments ago replaced with a newfound connection. 

“I'm Y/n” she chirped out as she stacked the pink bricks into a little house, the boy looked up from where he’d built his wall of blue blocks. 

“Rafe.” He mumbled out, she peered over at him as he worked, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly in concentration. She reached her finger out pushing the wall playfully, the blue bricks bashing brutally to the table, the boy looked up to her. 

“Whoopsies..” she smiled out cheekily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n and Rafe, the names often not heard separately, weaved through the thick crowd of teens, every corner of the house filled, whilst the music thumped loudly against the walls, making their way into the kitchen of the beachside villa.

"You know, I’m kind of a big deal round here" He playfully murmured to her, the girl looking at him with a mocked serious expression on her face as she poured the liqueur into the red plastic cup, trying to scout out any kind of mixer within the rubbish on the counter.  "Oh yeah? In what universe?" She pressed as she leant over, grabbing the half empty sprite bottle of the counter.

"This one. I mean, you’re talking to me, so clearly, I’m doing something right." With a grin that only grew wider, the boy shrugged, clearly enjoying the banter between them. Y/n rolled her eyes trying to stifle her laugh, "You’re so full of yourself." He grinned clearly unfazed; "And yet, here you are, still listening."

She shook her head at his bad attempt of flirting with her, hand reaching out to shove his shoulder. That’s just the kind of dynamic their relationship had and she couldn't help the sweet warming feeling in her chest that appeared whenever they joked around like this. He chuckled and took a sip of his beer as he raised an eyebrow and took a step closer.

"You love it." 

“You’re right.” 

She shrugged as she turned to him, the boy standing behind her, now leaning back against the counter as he looked at her. The small kitchen was buzzing full of Kooks and Pogues alike, however no one interrupted them, who would be stupid enough to get between the Kook Princess and her best friend. He smirked as he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes darted around the room at all the people, but rested back on the girl.

"I tend to be right a lot of the time." He spoke out as he looked down at her studying her face, her cheeks were slightly flushed, he could tell it was from the alcohol, the girl now nursing her second cup, when did she even finish her first?

“Yeah I think 14 years of friendship has taught me that.” she rolled her eyes playfully at the boy, their friendship never wavering in all the years they’d known each other, he was her favourite person- that was for sure. He nodded his head in amusement at her; “And I think it also taught you that I’m the smartest person you know.” He leaned down closer to her while a smirk slipped its way slyly onto her lips.

“I don’t know bout that...” She raised her brow at him teasingly. He shook his head, chuckle slipping past his lips, “Oh yeah? Name someone smarter than me.” She tapped her cup against the bottom of her lip, the pink gloss transferring onto the plastic causing it to sparkle in the lights of the kitchen, “Let’s see... me?” He let out another laugh at her response.

“Nice try. But that’s not true.” He pushed his body off the counter and stood up straight, looking y/n up and down, with a cocky grin

“Hey!” She defended as she placed her empty cup down onto the counter. “Last time I checked it was me who knew how to tie laces first, so can I get a little credit here Cameron!?” He put his hands up in defence, laughter tumbling past his lips again, “Whoa Whoa Whoa! I’m not questioning your mobility skills, cause rumour has it your fingers work pretty well…” He took a step closer to the girl, “But in the brains department, I’m much smarter than you, princess.” She rolled her eyes at his subtle comment about her sexcapades as she shoved his shoulder, “Whateverrrr asshole.” She sings songs out as she turns around to refill her cup.

He shook his head at the girl's attitude, one that he's found comforting over the years. He walked up so he was standing next to her leaning in close to her ear and spoke in a quiet voice, “There’s no shame in admitting that I’m smarter than you, y’know.” He smirked as he looked down at her, and tried to ignore how good her perfume smelled to him, was it new? It definitely was.

“Mmhmm” she hummed out refusing to accept his statement, she enjoyed pushing his buttons anyways. 

He sighed amused at y/n’s stubbornness, even though it annoyed him a bit, “Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn huh?” He leaned in a bit closer so his arms were holding him up, placed against the counter right next to the girl's hand which was wrapped around her now full cup.

“So you do think I’m a brat!” She exclaimed eyes wide, gasping in mock offence with a smile pulling at the corners of her lips as their conversation from earlier resurfaced, the argument raising between her, Rafe, Toper and Kelce a few days ago. He couldn’t help but smile at her response,

“Yeah you are. The most spoiled, bitchiest, brattiest princess to ever curse Figure 8.” 

“The fuck, am I a witch or something, why am I cursing?” She laughed out loudly, the alcohol in her bloodstream affecting her humour. She rested her head against his shoulder as she tried to regain her composure, giggles passing her lips. He smiled amused at her response, a shiver going down his spine as she leaned against him. He was a weak man, but only when it came to y/n, and even the simple touch of her head on his shoulder made him want to pull her closer.

…what the fuck are you thinking?

"I take it the alcohol is getting to you huh?” He asked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” She shook her head as she lifted it upright away from his shoulder. He looked down at the girl, noticing her rosy cheeks, "Uh huh, that's why your face's red then?" He teased her, knowing she hated when people pointed out when she was drunk, even back when they used to sneak out to drink the stolen bottle of whiskey from y/n’s father’s office on the beach in the late hours of the night. 

“Yeah well you’re high!” she spoke out defensively in a matter of fact tone as she pointed to his pupils, blown wide from the line he’d taken in the bathroom not all that long ago. The boy knew she didn’t necessarily approve of his so-called ‘habit’, always droning on about how it was bad for him. He rolled his eyes at her snarky comment, “I’m barely even that high anymore. Just a little buzzed now.” She placed her hand on her chest as she spoke, as though she was making a sincere oath, “Well I’m perfectly fine.” He couldn't help but find her dramatic nature endearing, it must’ve been why they'd managed to stay friends for so long, she never took any of his shit- as she liked to call it.

“Besides, Rose invited us round to yours tomorrow for dinner, remember..?” She tilted her head as she referred to the joint dinner which was held monthly between both their families, insisted by both their fathers who claimed it was, ‘a great way to keep business natural’. Y/n dreaded the evening every month, the dinner filled with talks of money, success and reputation, if Rafe wasn’t there then she’s sure she’d surely try to gauge her eyes out with Rose’s pristinely polished silver forks. He had to purse his lips to stop himself from smiling at her tipsy state, it entertained him that she was trying so hard to prove that she was sober.

“Yeah I remember princess.” His eyes flicked to the hand on your chest and he swallowed before his eyes went back to her own, “You’re gonna have a hangover tomorrow, you know that?”

Has this top always been so low cut...

“No I won’t” She dismissed as she rolled her eyes at him, lifting her cup again in a cheer towards him finally bringing it to her lips, the liquid burning her throat as it slid down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe pushed past the guy, his gags muffled by the loud music as he bent over throwing up into the potted palm near the front door of the house, sighing out through his nose. Where was this girl? Fucking tequila shots set him up, and now he was stuck in an almost empty house as people flooded out saying their goodbyes, occasional person trying to grab his attention as he walked straight past them.

“Hey Matt!” 

He yelled out grabbing the boys attention who turned to him walking over to meet Rafe who was walking towards him. Hand coming down onto his back to greet him he spoke,

“Hey great party man, have you seen y/n?” 

The boy nodded, slurring his own words, evidently y/n not being the only one who took part in the drinking competition tonight. “Yeah I uh- the dining room man,” was all he managed to mutter out before being called from the other side of the house, his girlfriend coming around the corner yelling something - about how some guy had gotten stuck in his cat's litter box? He let out a loud groan squeezing his eyes shut before turning to Rafe and patting him on the arm in a goodbye. The dining room. He walked through the house pushing past a couple, who he was pretty sure were about to fuck against the hallway wall, muttering a firm ‘move’ as he walked past them. The music still pounded loudly from the speakers littered around the house, walking through hall he called out, 

“Y/n?” 

Walking through the doorway he saw the girl, standing on the table, arm raised above her head happily as she sang out.

Is that a wooden spoon? 

“I just wanna live in this moment foooreverrrr...”

 She sang out, her words were slurred as she swayed her hips around running her hand down her body as she tried to perform the song blasting through the speakers, her limbs uncoordinated causing her to stumble slightly, catching herself before she toppled off the edge of the table. Rafe sucked the air in through his teeth holding his breath, watching the girl teeter on the edge of the table before she stabilized herself. The lights of the room caught on the small crystal sequins of her top, causing glittering sparkles to reflect onto the walls as she swayed around the table. He walked over to her, the girl noticing his footsteps towards her turning towards him, dropping to her knees on the hard dark mahogany wood as she sang out to him now, ever so enthusiastically.

“Started giving up on the word foreverrrrr!!!!” She was so incredibly off tune as she ran her hands through her now messy hair, but he couldn’t help but be entertained as she pointed out to him passionately, gripping the wooden spoon lifting it up to her lips. 

“Until you gave up heaven so we could be toooogetheeerrrr” She wobbled on top of the table, the boy rushing forwards arms out in case she dropped off the edge of the rounded surface. Her hand reached out running down his chest as she sang to him still holding up the wooden spoon to her lips as though she was performing a one woman show.

“You’re my angel, angel baby angel… you’re my angel baby” The girl's hands ran up to his hair as she messed it up, the boy groaning at her actions as she pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, spoon dropping to the floor with a clatter. “Okay y/n.” He spoke rolling his eyes at her drunken antics, trying to coax her down from the table. Standing just in front of her, he looked up, seeing her swaying back and forth, he couldn’t deny the concern that she would lose balance and fall off - wouldn’t be the first time. “Okay angel, you’ve gotta get off of that table before you hurt yourself.” He said as he grabbed her hips as he played along with her singing, what was this song anyways? She complied as she held onto his shoulders, still humming along to the song slowly to herself.

He smiled as she hummed along to the song, he loved this side of her, she was always so reserved and in control of herself but right now she was so free and playful and

Seriously?

It was different from how she held herself usually, her family causing her to always hold herself to such a high standard, he preferred when she'd just relax. He kept his hands on her hips as he let out a small laugh pulling her down, “You’re singing is truly terrible, you know that right?”

“Whatever” she spoke back as she stood up straight swaying slightly. “If Topper and Kelce were here they’d sing with me…” She spoke out slowly, intoxication evident in her movements

“What’s this shitty song anyways? He spoke out hands on the girl's shoulders leading her out the room towards the doors to leave, mumbling a small ‘watch it’ guiding her around a broken vase on the floor. 

“Shitty song!?” she gasped out, offense evident in her tone. “Don’t do Troye Sivan like that!” she said defensively.

“Who?” He continued as he guided her towards the steps of the patio, she stopped turning to him with a frown on her face, he had to stifle his laugh as she tried to defend the song, she was so worked up about it in her drunken state.

“Sorry princess, I didn’t know you were such a hardcore fan of, what was it Trevor?” looking down at her with a smirk, his grip kept on her hips as he waited for her response, guiding her down the stairs slowly, knowing her luck she’d slip and twist her ankle.

“Troye Sivan!" she exclaimed annoyed at him, "He’s so fine.” Y/n slurred out as she stepped down the patio slowly holding onto the handrail and looking down at the steps, he couldn’t hold back his laugh, watching her drunken mind struggle to keep up with what she was saying and doing. 

 “Is that so? I thought you only had eyes for me” He teased, he knew you were just being playful from the alcohol, but deep down a part of him wanted to see how you would respond to his teasing.

What was in that coke today...

“Oh but Rafey- he’s queer.” She spoke out sadly as though someone had ripped her heart out and stomped over it, stumbling slightly on their way to Rafe's car, her hand holding onto his arm for stability. His heart patted faster in his chest at the childhood nickname of his, seeming to have stuck with her from their early days. He held her slightly closer, hand slipping down her back resting on her waist to help keep her steady, as she hummed out at his movement. He let out a breathy chuckle at her saddened response,

“And isn’t that a shame.” He teased as he helped guide her to the passenger door to his car, opening up the door and setting her down onto the seat, her hand reaching out, holding onto his polo shirt to pull him closer to her, the boy moving forwards with his brow raised,

“Yes?” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as she mumbled out almost incoherently, fingers running through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He found himself gritting his teeth slightly at her gentle ministrations, that prickling feeling creeping up his spine as he reached his arm around resting it on her back. 

“Thanks for helping me, my angel baby.” Her hand reached up fingers now brushing against his cheeks, which were subtly flushed. His hand held onto her own, pulling it away as he sighed out, she was ever so touchy when she got drunk, he’d noticed that when they were younger and since then vowed to always be the one to get her after a night out, God forbid someone took advantage of that, his body heated up uncomfortably at the thought. 

“You’re gonna be fucked tomorrow,” he mumbled, more to himself that to her as she slumped back into the seat, still humming along to the tune of the song, fingers fiddling with the buttons on the dash of his car, having to pull his eyes away from her shutting the door. 

what the fuck is going on with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be continued.....?

[hanasnx]

“ WHEN THE NIGHT CALLS ” — jason todd.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content ノ p in v ノ objectification ノ possession ノ roofie mention but not in use ノ gun is involved but no gun play ノ bondage ノ size difference ノ name calling: bitch. NOTES: for @xstarkillerx who drove me wild with one single line.

It takes a lot to please the ARKHAM KNIGHT, most will never know what his approval is like. You are of the few that receive it consistently. Sometimes it's even multiple times a night, frequently.

The HQ is full of bustling militia, passing around beer through strobing lights they crafted from old torches. Their leader was reluctant to let them celebrate, and without several external factors he never would've conceded, but you have a way of persuasion. "If you don't let your men cut loose once in a while, you'll overwork them. They're about to roll into Gotham, let them have this." you believe you had said. Apparently, he'd seen reason through his frighteningly iron grip on this project, or he'd seen your tits in his favorite cami. Either way, you pat yourself on the back.

Your visitation to the keg was met with several hungry men staring you down, offering you compliment atop compliment, one even brave enough to clutch his hand over yours on your cup to bring to the mouth of the nozzle for a refill. They're not stupid, they know you're spoken for—at least in some small way. The most clueless ones may be in denial over the fact you have a special relationship with their boss, but for most it's clear to see that the Arkham Knight stakes a strong claim over you. It's reinforced by your honeyed verbal gratitude towards these desperate men that's immediately followed by your loyal sauntering right over to where the Knight sits. Some deflate with a disappointment knowing you're sweet on them only to return to where you belong, others are smarter than that.

You tilt your head at your disinterested lover, slouched and knees spread in some makeshift throne the boys threw together. The mouth of his heavy handgun strokes up and down his thigh as the digital eyes of his mask watch past you as you approach him. Those gloved fingers tap in a graceful line at the armrest, beginning from his pinky to his thumb in a wave. Despite your hard work in coordinating this, he doesn't seem to be having any fun.

Your thumb swipes at the liquid at the corner of your parted lips, sweeping the bottom one to the side, letting it bob back in place. A motion he takes note of, and finally recognizes you're coming his way, visibly adjusting in his seat to afford you some room. You take the invitation, twirling on your heel to seat on his other thigh, the muscle pressed flush against your sex through your little skirt. A protective arm rounds you, resting the weight of his hand on your bare skin, the tip of his finger toying with your skirt hem. "I don't like that you wore this around them." he speaks into your ear, low and digitally grated. You both know the kind of people he's had to hire, and he's not fucking stupid. His men look at you the way dogs look at fresh red meat.

"I figured it would be alright. You know how to break a jaw, remember?" you reply slyly, an impish grin stretching your smile into something near dazzling. You raise your cup to take a swig, but you glance at him confusedly when the tip of his gun intercepts you, guiding the rim away from your mouth and back onto your lap. With furrowed brows, you inspect the foam of the beer, wondering if he'd seen someone slip you something while they were giving you a refill. Would they be that stupid to do it in front of their boss with eyes like a hawk? You don't know, but you set it off to the side just to be sure.

"Don't like that I'm supervising this thing either. We should be tying up the loose ends." he murmurs, tucking you further into his hard armor. The grip on your thigh suggests he wants to do more than tie up loose ends. A familiar thrill shoots up you, centering in your core, that sensational sting of a memory roots there, making sure you remember what it's like to be filled.

"Why? You wanna tie me up or something?" you suggest playfully.

You didn't think he'd take you seriously. His quarters don't have a headboard, but he didn't seem too worried about that. "Oh—Oh! Jay... Jason, fuck..." you sigh, a dense and gooey pleasure between your legs rolling your pretty eyes into the back of your head. The noises of sex fill the room, skin slapping skin, drenched pussy getting fucked loud and proud.

"Yeah? Yeah, pretty girl, you like that?" he replies with a haughty snicker, peeling your tepid hips off the sheet to meet his own. Big hands grasp the flesh of your backside, lifting and yanking you onto his dick as your tits bounce from the motions. "So wet. You were asking for this, struttin' around in that little outfit—" An obscene groan reverberates from his throat at the memory, throwing his head back as his whole body flexes. Your bound hands lay underneath you, rough rope biting into your skin in a most delicious way. "Fuck, baby, push me off if you don't want me to cum all up in this cunt." You mewl pathetically, squirming in his grip only for him to laugh at you. His gorgeous body rolls under your gaze, deliberate and slow, licking your insides with his fat cock. "Yeah, bitch, take it. Take it just like a fucking fleshlight. Let those cucks know you're cuffed."