#I feel like I'm the last person to get to this bit

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Somehow the timing was just right, and Bradley's arrival meant he could join you for your appointment. He'd find out if he was having a son or daughter in person, with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget he loved so much.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

"Bradley," you gasped, head tipped back against the pillar that was pressing into your shoulder. "Your duffle is here. I can see it." Actually, it was just going around and around on the conveyor belt while Bradley sucked gently on your neck and slowly bunched the fabric of your dress in his hand over your bump. And just like that, once again, your focus drifted away from the bag as soon as he spoke.

"I'll get it in a minute," he murmured next to your ear. "I'm a little busy."

You were getting side eye from a woman, and a random man was outright gawking at you, but you didn't really care. The airport was busy, but it wasn't enough to make you pull your fingers from Bradley's soft hair or tell him to stop kissing his way back to your lips. His bristly mustache made you sigh when he reached his destination once again, and you let him taste your tongue before you pulled away slightly.

"Roo. We're kind of on a tight schedule." When he just grunted in response and headed for your lips again, you laughed. "Daddy! Let's go see the Nugget."

He seemed to snap out of it a little bit, the desire in his eyes giving way to excitement. "Right. Let's go. I can taste you everywhere at home later."

When he took you by the hand, you had to dig your heels in. "We need your bag!" you said with a smile. Then he led you in the opposite direction and snatched his massive duffle up like it was nothing and tossed it over his shoulder. You had to hustle along next to him as he exited the airport through the sliding doors and headed for the parking garage. It was like he knew you parked near the spot where he totaled your beloved little Honda when he finally got you pregnant on his birthday. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you recalled the details.

He must have seen his blue Bronco in the last row, because he picked up his pace a little bit more. "I don't think we have time for reunion sex yet," he muttered, glancing at you and letting his gaze dip down your body. "But I'll take care of you later. You got along okay without me?"

You let out a little squeak as he tossed his bag in the back and headed for the passenger side door so he could unlock it for you. "Honestly? I haven't been as insatiable since the first trimester ended," you told him, leaning closer to inhale the scent of his deodorant. "At least... I wasn't until right now."

He pulled you close again and tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. "Listen, I'm a little keyed up, and I don't think I can be quick. Can you wait until later?"

"Oh, God," you whined, your skin tingling at the thought of how long he might last for you and how good he would feel. "This is just as exciting as when I felt the baby moving on Halloween."

His brown eyes went wide, and his lips parted in surprise. "You felt the Nugget?!" When you nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

You just gaped at him. "Seriously? You had your mouth all over mine! How was I supposed to tell you anything?"

"Shit," he hissed and handed you the keys before his hands settled on your belly, drifting around, trying to feel something. "You drive," he said, slowly guiding you to the other side of the Bronco. "I need to work on feeling a kick." 

As he buckled you in behind the wheel, you didn't have the heart to tell him that the baby wasn't even moving around much right now, or that it would probably be weeks before he'd be able to feel anything externally. He was too adorable when he was this excited, and you watched him run around the hood and jump inside like an overgrown golden retriever who had been offered a treat. His eyes were wide as he got himself buckled before placing both hands on your belly.

"Okay. I'm ready to go," he informed you with a nod.

"You sure?" you asked, smirking as you put the key in the ignition. "A minute ago, you looked like you were ready to have parking garage sex again, and now you're all over me and the Nugget."

You shifted into gear, and he whispered, "I'm ready, Baby Girl. I'm so fucking ready to learn what we're having, and if I feel a little kick on the way, it'll be like a cherry on top of the best day."

You paid the parking fee and pulled out onto the main road as you realized you only had about twenty minutes to get to Dr. Morris's office on time. "Don't get your hopes up," you said while Bradley felt you all over. "You probably won't be able to feel anything. It's still early for that."

"Hey, not to be rude, Sweetheart, but I'm actually going to need you to stop talking."

"What?" you asked, so startled you laughed a little bit. "Did you just ask me to be quiet?"

He kissed your cheek while you drove and whispered, "It's just that I can't tell if it's the vibrations from your voice or the baby moving. Please? I love you." Now you were laughing even harder as his big hands moved all around on you. "No, no, that's- see you're actually moving more when you laugh though." He kissed your cheek again as you rolled your eyes and smothered your laughter. "That's better."

When you pulled into the parking lot of the medical complex, your husband's fingers were stroking your belly gently, and when you parked again and looked at him, you saw a few tears in his eyes. "You okay?" you asked softly. 

"Yeah. I'm good. Like really fucking good."

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

Bradley was forever wondering when his luck would run out. His life just seemed too good to be true. He was holding hands with his hot, pregnant wife in the waiting room, just buzzing with excitement. In a few short minutes, he was going to find out if he was having a son or a daughter. He wondered if this was how his dad felt in 1984. He wondered if Nick Bradshaw ever wanted to randomly get on his knees for his wife for no reason.

"They called us," you whispered, kissing his cheek before you stood up. Bradley jumped to his feet as well, so deep in thought, he hadn't heard anything. He'd never admit it to you, but this was probably more exciting than the day the two of you got married.

He pressed his sweaty palm to yours and walked past the reception desk at your side. Three short hallways later, and a nurse led you into a large, dimly lit room with huge computer monitors on one wall. "I'm so fucking excited, I might pass out," he said, voice deep and raspy. 

The nurse eyed him cautiously. "Perhaps you should have a seat while Dr. Morris performs the scan?"

He nodded, intercepting the cotton gown before you could take it from her. "That's a great idea. I'll do that."

Once she was gone, Bradley turned to you and started unfolding the gown while you stepped out of your boat shoes. "Are you really going to pass out?" you asked him as you started to pull your sinfully snug dress up your legs.

"Let me do that," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and pushing the fabric up and over your belly. He kissed your tattoo through your underwear, and then he kissed the spot next to your belly button where he always imagined the Nugget was hanging out. "I love you," he whispered before getting to his feet again and pulling the dress up and over your head. You weren't wearing a bra, and your breasts looked so fucking incredible, he wanted them in his mouth.

"You're staring at me," you said, reaching for the gown as you shifted back and forth in place like you were getting cold. "I know I look different. I gained like eight or nine pounds while you were gone once I stopped throwing up all the time."

Bradley let you take the gown from his hands. "Jesus Christ, maybe I really should sit down," he muttered, dragging a chair over next to the table where you'd be sitting in a moment. "And I was just staring at your tits, Baby Girl. You don't look different, you look fucking hot pregnant. God, this is more exciting than when you let me fuck you in the ass."

And that was the exact moment when Dr. Morris entered the room and cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Bradshaw," she said, reaching out to shake his hand as he hovered awkwardly over the chair before standing up again. "It's so nice to have you back with us." You were cradling your head in your hand in embarrassment as he shook hands with your obstetrician.

"Dr. Morris," he murmured. "I only missed the last appointments, because I was deployed. There's nothing else that could have kept me away, I swear."

She laughed and looked between the two of you and said, "Well, we do like a supportive and adventurous partner."

"Roo," you groaned softly as you started to climb up on the table. Bradley turned to help you, and you let him.

"She's a doctor, Sweetheart," he whispered. "She's heard it all."

"That's true," Dr. Morris said as she washed her hands, and you gave Bradley a bland look as you settled back on the table which was bent at an angle that would let you see the monitors. He was so excited, he just kissed your forehead a bunch of times while Dr. Morris asked, "Are we ready to get started?"

"Yes!" he practically shouted while you responded in a much calmer tone. He eased himself down into the chair and looked up at you as he reached for your hand.

"This is it," you told him with a nervous smile. "Any final guesses?"

He shook his head, his attention drawn to the monitors as they came to life. "I don't care one way or the other. I just want to know everything I can about the Nugget." 

Then he took your hand in both of his bigger ones and brought your fingers up to his lips as you said, "Me, too."

Bradley's heart skipped around as Dr. Morris spread the warm gel on your belly, and he had to press his lips together to keep quiet. He'd imagined himself holding a son, and he'd imagined himself holding a daughter. He had thought about names he liked for both. He considered what wild colors he might one day paint the bedroom walls, and he looked forward to it. He thought he'd be good at being a basketball dad or a dance dad or a cheer dad or a soccer dad. And that's why it didn't really matter what Dr. Morris said today. It didn't really matter what his kid was into or not into, because the Nugget was going to be an extension of the two of you. Somehow that equated to perfection in his mind.

"Let's count some little toes," Dr. Morris said, and then Bradley squeezed your hand as two tiny feet appeared on the screen.

"Holy shit," he whispered. There were ten perfect toes on his perfect baby, and he had to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand as you laughed softly in awe. The Nugget would be smart and confident just like you were. Bradley would get the attic taken care of, and he'd put together the jungle gym. He would do every single thing that needed to be done to make a perfect home for this child. He would take care of you every day right now until he was taking care of both of you.

"Now let's check on the fingers."

Ten tiny fingers, attached to the cutest baby he'd ever seen in his life. Bradley took a deep breath and let his forehead rest against your arm as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh my God," he whispered, knowing he'd be able to count those toes and fingers in person next year. He could tickle them and send piggies to the market. He could kiss them and watch them toddle across the living room floor after Tramp.

"Let's just get a look at the heartbeat and a few other things here." Dr. Morris was taking her time, which Bradley appreciated. He liked a thorough doctor, but the anticipation was killing him. 

The heartbeat on the screen had you mesmerized when he looked at your beautiful face, but then you turned to look at him. Once again, he had no idea how he ended up this lucky. "I love you, Roo."

His already blurry vision just got worse as he sucked in a deep breath. "I love you so much." 

This time you brought his fingers up to your lips and kissed him as Dr. Morris added a little more gel to your belly and smashed it down with the ultrasound paddle. "Are you sure you want to find out the sex?"

"Yes!" you said, smiling at Bradley like you fucking knew you were his whole world. Like you didn't mind sharing him with the Nugget from now on. "We want to know!"

Bradley watched your face as you watched the monitor. His fingers on your wrist told him your heart was racing just like his was, and you were licking your lips in anticipation. You were perfect. His life was perfect. His baby was going to follow suit, no doubt about that. A smile found its way to his lips, and his shoulders relaxed, knowing that the next words he heard were going to be perfect, too. How could they not be?

"Congratulations. It's a girl."

The feeling inside his body was something he never knew before. He felt as much love as he had when he listened to you read your wedding vows, but this was something more. He was going to have a perfect little girl. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he was going to get to love and take responsibility for raising a daughter.

"Roo!" you sobbed, reaching for him, and then he was on his feet and kissing you.

"A girl," he said even as he mashed his lips to yours. "A daughter."

He wasn't sure if he felt his own tears or yours on his cheeks as you pressed your forehead to his and asked, "Are you happy?"

It took him a few seconds to get control of his voice as he held your face in his hands. "I'm living the life of my dreams."

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

Bradley had tears in his eyes and ultrasound images clutched to his chest as you led him outside to the Bronco. His free hand was clasped tight with yours, and you'd never seen him look so happy in your life. "A little girl," he said, handing you his keys once again, and you already knew what he was going to do when he buckled you into the driver's seat. "We're having a girl," he whispered, brown eyes wide as he kissed your wedding rings.

You nodded and wiped your thumb along his cheek. "It just makes sense somehow."

"It does," he agreed, kissing your lips before leaning down to kiss your bump through your dress. "I love this Nugget," he whispered. "My daughter."

You whined his name as he said those words, and when he looked up at you, all you could say was, "You're going to be the best Daddy, Roo." You thought about it all the time. The way he'd carry the baby around and read bedtime stories. The way he'd always be patient and sweet. You weren't sure if you'd always imagined a little girl or not, but it made so much sense right now.

"Let's go home," he rasped, kissing his way up from your belly until he got to your tender breasts. Technically you were supposed to work this afternoon, at least that's what you'd told Bickel. As Bradley ran around to the passenger side, you dug your phone out and texted your boss, letting him know that the baby was fine, and you'd see him on Monday. 

"What's wrong?" Bradley asked as you tossed your phone aside and started the engine.

"Nothing. Everything is right. I'm taking the rest of the day off so we can spend it together," you replied softly as his hands found their way back to your belly. It had been too many weeks since you'd been touched, and it felt so good, you had to press your lips together to keep from moaning. "I want to spend it with you."

He grunted and kissed the side of your neck as you pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm not letting my girls out of my sight all weekend."

"Bradley," you whined, feeling so much desire for him. The two of you could start talking about nursery decor and girl names and when you wanted to break the news to everyone else. You could do all of those things this weekend now that he was home. But you were also just needy for him.

You made a little noise as you tried your best to go the speed limit, and you knew that your husband knew what you needed. "I'll take care of you, Sweetheart. Don't worry about that. I'll take care of everything." 

He was tracing hearts along your belly, and you turned to look at his slightly lovesick eyes when you stopped at an intersection. "I know you will." You delighted in the fact that you were having a little girl who would get to share all of his love with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget, and pretty soon she would be showered in it too.

When you pulled into the driveway and parked in the tight spot next to your red Bronco, Bradley eyed the pallets of jungle gym pieces. "I can't fucking wait to build that thing. I've been dreaming about it for so long." Then he was jumping out the door as you shifted into park, and he was around to your side in an instant. "Been dreaming about this day for ages," he whispered as you climbed down and into his arms. His hands found your lower back as he added, "Been thinking about you and the Nugget since I left."

You smiled up at him. "You know what might be fun, Daddy?"

"What?" he asked, keeping his eyes on yours as he started to lead you up to the porch.

"If you start building the Nugget's playset tomorrow, and you get all sweaty and let me watch," you said, your voice turning into a soft whimper at the end. 

Bradley jammed the house key into the lock, and shoved the door open. He hooked one arm around your waist and pulled you inside with him as Tramp started jumping around like a maniac. "Hey, buddy," Bradley told him with a smile. "I missed you, too. But I need some time with my girls first."

"It's okay," you said as you closed the door behind you. "He probably won't calm down until you play with him a little bit."

But Bradley was pushing you back against the door even as Tramp ran around in circles. "Wait right here," he commanded softly, and lust rippled through you at the sight of his pupils blown wide. "Don't move an inch." 

You felt like you were barely even breathing as you stood very still and watched Bradley lead Tramp past the piano and out the back sliding glass door. "I promise I'll play with you next. I just desperately need to fuck my wife." Then he made his way back to you, his lips set in a determined smirk, and his movements beyond sexy. "I promised I wouldn't leave you hanging."

You closed your eyes as his palm came to rest on the wooden door just next to your head. His warmth was so close, but he wasn't touching you yet as you whispered, "You always take care of me."

His fingers started to pull up the hem of your dress as he crooned, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me how much you missed me."

You tipped your head back until it met the door, and you kept your eyes squeezed closed as you whined, "Couldn't go another day without you." When his lips met your cleavage, your eyes flew open. His lips grazed your nipple through the thin fabric as he slowly knelt in front of you, and you told him, "Your daughter and I missed you terribly."

When he looked up at your face, he pulled your dress up and said, "I'm so in love with you." He ran his lips along your bare belly. "And you." Then he pressed the bunched up fabric against your ribs, and when he said, "Hold this for me, Baby Girl," you did exactly as you were told.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Fuck," he grunted, rough hands on your thighs as he kissed your belly button. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" His eyes met yours again. "You asked me if I was happy. I've been happy since I met you. Since you gave me a purpose. Since you let me love you." His hands found the scrap of your white lace underwear and started to pull it down your thighs. "God, I missed this," he murmured, pressing his lips to your pussy as soon as you were free of the lace which slipped all the way down until your panties hit your boat shoes.

"Bradley," you croaked, the second syllable sounding much longer than the first as he licked his way up your slit to the patch of hair that you kept neatly trimmed. He licked along this same path again, this time pressing deeper with his tongue. The third time, he separated you a little more, and then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently. All the while he kept his big hands on the swell of your belly. "I really missed you."

He responded by kissing your dainty rooster tattoo and burying his face in your pussy. Bradley gently nudged your legs further apart so he could taste you everywhere, and each time you started to buck, he pushed your hips back. You were gripping your dress so tight in both hands, you were afraid you might rip the fabric, but he just kept going in a smooth up and down stripe until you could tell you were dripping wet.

"Yeah, you missed me," he grunted, kissing your tattoo one more time. "I can taste how much."

"Roo."

He got to his feet and cupped your pussy below the swell of your belly, circling your opening with the tip of one finger as he leaned in close. "Will you let me take you to bed and show you how much I missed you?"

Your voice shook as he pushed his finger inside you, just a promise of what was to come if you agreed. "Please!"

Barely ten seconds later, you were on your back in bed, your dress pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts and belly to him. Your soaked pussy was already clenching as the cool air hit your skin, and you watched Bradley wrench his shirt off and unzip his pants. But he didn't penetrate you yet. He pushed on the backs of your thighs so your knees got a little closer to your shoulders, and you whimpered his name.

His eyes were a little wild as he said, "Yeah, I'll take care of everything, Sweetheart." Bradley wrapped his hands around your thighs and leaned down to kiss at your furled nipples, his mustache leaving you squirming, searching for release. "Your fucking tits are huge. My God. And so warm." 

He nuzzled himself against your breasts which were in fact getting to the point where your bras were fitting a little too tight. He sucked and swiped his tongue along, and you let your fingers sink into his hair as he brought you close with his mouth wrapped around one nipple then the other. "Oh my God," you panted, just spurring him on. Because next, his mouth trailed back down to your belly where he whispered and worshipped you.

"I love my girls," he crooned, spreading your legs open wider as you tugged on his hair to keep yourself grounded. "I love you so much."

"Please," you begged softly, and he finally put that mouth back on your soaking wet core. You were about to come, grinding against his lips and his nose, his name falling from you like a depraved prayer. Eventually he paused before filling you with his cock instead. You cried out as he stretched you fully for the first time in so long, and almost immediately he was fucking you to completion. You came hard, your back arching off the bed as you grabbed at his shoulders, but you knew he wanted his share, too.

Bradley fucked you through your orgasm, lips pressed to your ear so you could hear every word he said and every deep rumble at the back of his throat. "You were made for me, weren't you, Baby Girl? And I was made to worship you."

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

By the time Bradley came, he was sweaty and babbling like a lovesick idiot. Everything he cared about most was right there in his arms as you took him deep, always welcoming him into your sweetness. The relief he felt was incredible as he finally rolled onto his back, pulling you a little closer as he went.

"I'm gonna be a girl dad," he said with a smile as he looked at the ceiling through his post orgasm haze. "I can't wait."

The slick friction from his cum teased at his leg hairs as your pussy rested against his thigh, and you snuggled up against his chest. "Me too, Roo. I'm so excited to meet her." 

Your fingers teased along his abs, lulling him ever closer to an afternoon nap. He knew that one of you needed to let Tramp back inside, and he was going to have to scrape together something for you to eat soon. But right now, he didn't want to move.

"What happened with your deployment?" you asked softly as he yawned. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now when he knew you were carrying his little girl, but he should have known you'd have questions. 

"It fucking sucked. Being away from you gets harder and harder each time now. They kept tacking on more weeks of these random bombing runs, and the weather was miserable. We had to fly in the rain half the time."

He listened to you hum, contemplating what he said. "It was so scary when you got called to action in the middle of talking to me over FaceTime. I couldn't stop crying. And then it was weeks before some random guy in personnel called me to let me know you were on your way home."

It was hard to believe he was on that flight back to San Diego just a few hours ago. "Honestly, in all of the excitement today, that already feels so distant in my mind," he told you, kissing your forehead as he thought about how long he had been away from you. "We didn't really know we were heading home until it was happening. And it was so late here when we got released, they told me they'd have someone reach out so I didn't have to wake you up again. Then there was only one seat left on the first flight home, and once Payback and I were being airlifted to Hong Kong, they told us to decide who was taking that spot. He gave it to me, no questions asked. Told me to get home to you and the Nugget."

You gasped and murmured, "Reuben is the sweetest."

Bradley chuckled as his fingers grazed along the side of your bump. "Yeah, well, you actually owe him three dozen chocolate chip cookies. That was the only stipulation for the deal."

Your laughter made Bradley's smile grow. "Totally worth it. Actually, since you made it home in time for my appointment, I'll make five dozen for him."

"No wonder everyone thinks I'm spoiled," he told you, tugging on you until you were straddling his hips and looking down at him with your hands braced on his chest. "Fuck. Just look at you." 

His sticky cum was matted in your pubic hair, and your tits looked delicious. There was no way he'd be able to keep his hands away from you now that he'd seen and felt your little bump in person. His daughter was growing in there. He smiled and ran his palm gently over your skin, stroking you with his thumb as your pretty gaze stayed transfixed on his.

"I'm happy you're home, Roo."

He nodded, eye lids growing heavy from jet lag and the time zones, and he simply didn't argue when you kissed his cheek and said you were going to let Tramp inside and then take a nap with him. Soon enough, Bradley was snuggled up in bed with his head resting next to your belly and your fingers tangled in his hair. Your sweet voice lulled him to sleep for the best afternoon nap of his life.

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

This has been a very emotional day for Bradley. He's home with his hot wife, and now he gets to start planning for the arrival of their daughter in a few more months! Thank you so much for reading about the Nugget! More to come soon, including the first wedding anniversary! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

[nattblacklupin]

Sleepless nights

Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end

Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep

Masterlist

After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.

Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.

It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.

After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.

"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.

"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.

You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.

You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?

Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.

"Took you long enough, princess"

Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.

Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fluff #eris vanserra #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris fluff #acotar eris

[sturnphilia]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (rewritten og sturnphilia fic)

𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶 𝑿 𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻!𝑭𝑬𝑴 𝑶𝑪

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒; pet names, non established relationship, highschool au, fingering, praising, soft sex elements if you squint

Lily grew up a very sheltered kid. Her parents tried to keep her away from a lot of stuff. Her parents kept her home school all the way up until senior year. Her parents made the decision to let her finally go to public school for her very last year of high school to have a somewhat high school experience. Due to her being sheltered she was also extremely shy. She didn’t really have any intentions on making friends or being social in public school. But of course she did end up befriending one boy. Matt Sturniolo. One of the only other (non weird..) shy kid in her grade. Her science teacher made the bright decision to pair them up for the beginning year project and now at the end of senior year they have been close ever since.

They were each other's person. Obviously, Matt wasn’t as innocent like Lily. They had a lot in common but he definitely wasn’t anywhere as near as sheltered as she was.

Today they were at Lily’s house watching a movie. A Friday tradition they had been doing ever since they first became friends. They would go to each other's house every friday and have a movie night. Each week they’d take turns picking a new movie to watch. Majority of the time they went to Lily’s house since Lily’s parents always worked a late shift and when they went over to Matt’s his triplet brothers would find a way to annoy them.

They decided on watching some movie Matt wanted to watch. A movie Lily had already forgotten the name of.

Neither of them had seen this movie yet so the next scene shocked them both.

A sex scene with the two main characters was plastered on the 40 inch screen. Matt was a lot more calm because he was used to it. A sex scene in a movie was normal for him. But Lily was a blushing mess. Of course, Lily knew what sex was. She was innocent but wasn't stupid. But, she had never thought of anything sexual before let alone watched porn or any sex scenes like this. So this was very new to her to say the least.

It made her face heat up, her heart beat. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling a weird yet tingling feeling. Lily had never felt this way before. She was extremely confused, scared, and a bit excited at this new feeling.

Obviously since she had no idea what was going on with her or her body she tried hiding her movements and body language from Matt.

All of a sudden the scene began to get more intense. The main characters going at it a lot rougher now.

Lily was trying to hide it but it was getting really hard. She felt her panties begin to get wet. Anxiety filling her body. What is happening to me? Is all she could think. Continuing to squeeze her thighs even more a small whimper leaving her lips.

Matt began to notice Lily's actions. He looked over at Lily confused, "You alright?" he asked her. The room was dim, he could see her bright red cheeks, her shocked face, her body movements. "I-i..uhm." she couldn't form a word. she didn't know what to say. Her breath was shaky,

Matt started to get the hint. The hint that she was .. turned on?

He chuckled at her. "God I didn't know you got turned on by this stuff." he confronted with a scoff. "WWhat are you talking about?" Lily stuttered. Matts eyes went wide. "Do you even know what that means?" he asked the girl. She nodded her head no.

Matt's eyes go even wider. "Shit… I knew you were, like, innocent and all but i didn't know you were that innocent." Lily’s face began to get more red. She was so embarrassed. She felt so disgusted in herself. "i'm sorry.." she apologized. Looking down at her shaky legs, embarrassed to look Matt in the eyes.

Matt started to feel bad. He didn’t mean to embarrass her. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked her. She looked back up at him, "there's something wrong with me, isn't there?" She had pure innocence in her brown eyes.

Matt looked at her with a sympathetic smile, "No baby, nothing wrong with you, that's normal." he assured her. She began to smile at the little pet name he gave her. "Well then how do i... uhm.. fix it?" she asked him. "Fix what?" "This fuzzy feeling inside me?"

Matt’s face was covered in blush. "Uhm, have you ever, like, gotten off?" he asked. His face is heating up every second. The silence never felt so loud in these walls. She nodded her head no. "Oh well u-uh. I mean I could help you but like I don't wanna make this weird.." he suggested to her. She rested her hand on his. "I promise it won’t, just help me Matt, whatever you have to do."

Matt placed his hands on the rim of her mini skirt. "May I take this off?" he began suddenly. she nodded. He took her little white skirt off, placing it on the ground. "Here lay back." he told her, motioning her to lay on her back. She cooperated, leaning back. "M-may i take this off as well?" he asked shyly, mentioning her pink underwear. "Mmhm." she allowed him. He took her panties off slowly. Revealing all of her. He laid her panties with her skirt on the ground.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked her one more time. Making sure he wasn’t pressuring her into anything. She rolled her eyes. "Yes Matt, just please- do anything." she breathed out- beginning to get more sassier. Matt took his slim fingers and placed them onto her core. His cold fingers making her shiver a bit.

He began to slide his fingers up and down pink slits. She bit her lips, not wanting to make a sound.

"Does this feel nice princess?" he asked her. "Y-Yea." she moaned out. He then slipped one finger inside her, making her gasp a little. "Want me to keep going?" she looked down at him and nodded. He then slipped a second finger in, making her whimper under him. He began to thrust his slim fingers inside her. 

She soo became a moaning mess. "Mmgh matty feels so so good." she praised him. He smirked, going faster. Secretly slipping in a third finger. She yelped. Matt was going at an extremely fast pace, making the girl under him a mess. Her eyes were rolled back and she was holding onto the couch. Soon later her white cum coded Matt’s fingers, making her scream one last time. Her fingers gripping the couch and making her knuckles go pale."F-fuck.." she said under her breath. She looked down at Matt, seeing the mess she made. "Og my god i'm so sorry-" as she began to apologize.

Matt took his tongue and swiped it across her slits, making her shiver. "Why apologize, you taste so good?" he took his fingers out of her and placed them on her lips. "Taste." he said in a low raspy voice. She took his fingers and licked them clean.

-

TAGLIST (ask to be added or unadded!!) : @sturnioloshacker @e1ias3 @gwenlore @iloveneilperry

#𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 (𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍) #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

[heauxvibez]

Goodnight Kiss

warning: nothing too crazy, mentions of lady parts tingling and a moan. But other than that, this is short and sweet : )

"I appreciate you taking me out tonight. That was the most fun I've had in a while," you softly smiled, feeling a giddy warmth as he walked you to your door. His smirk deepened as he glanced down, hands tucked casually into his pockets. His muscular figure towered over yours, if you hadn't known how much of a gentle giant he was, it was easy to feel intimidated.

This was your first date with Leati Joseph Anoa'i, affectionately known as Joe, the person you'd harbored a crush on since the 10th grade. Your accidental reunion at Robeks, your favorite smoothie spot, reignited those old feelings the moment you started chatting. And when he asked you out, you couldn't resist saying yes.

As the years passed, he evolved into a masterpiece, aging like the finest wine, each sip more intoxicating than the last. His once timid demeanor now exuded strength and confidence, drawing you closer with every step. His skin, now kissed by the sun, held a mesmerizing bronze hue, a far cry from the paleness of his youth. And oh, his facial hair, it contoured his face beautifully, emphasized every captivating feature. Perfect then, yes, but now, he was an embodiment of perfection beyond belief. Dressed in a sleek black suit, with a simple white T-shirt underneath, he oozed sophistication, the fabric clinging to his form, teasingly highlighting the muscles that yearned to be explored by your hands.

"I'm just glad I could bring a smile to your face, beautiful. You deserve it," he replied, his perfect smile causing a delightful blush to spread across your cheeks. He was absurdly charming.

"Well, I should probably head inside and get ready for bed. Early start at work tomorrow," you said, extending your arms for a hug.

He embraced you tightly, a playful squeeze making you squeal with laughter and him chuckle. Pulling back just enough, he paused for a bit before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then trailing his lips lower, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline.

Your body tensed, hands still clasped around his neck, caught in a moment of uncertainty and anticipation. The possibility of what he might do left you breathless, your first kiss looming on the horizon. Every beat of your heart echoed in the quiet space between you, something you swore he could hear.

It felt like paralysis. Every fiber of your being yearned to utter his name, to express the handful of sensations running through you, but your body betrayed you, rendered motionless, held captive by the potent spell he cast by his soft, plump lips. The feeling was both daunting and intoxicating, a thin line between fear and excitement.

He planted a sweet kiss on your nose before his fingers delicately lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. There was a silent exchange in his eyes, he paused with a lick of his lips and slightly shook his head in disbelief as his eyes slowly washed over your face.

"You are so damn beautiful, you know that?" he questioned, your heart fluttered at the compliment. You were thanking God that he blessed you with your deep melanin skin because your face would be as red as a cherry tomato. He was making you so nervous, you didn't even know how to respond.

"Think so?" you softly questioned, internally face-palming at your response.

With a nod, his features softened and his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

"Know so." he responded with a breathy chuckle. Little did you know, you were taking away his breath as well.

He leaned in slowly, a hint of hesitation in his movements, silently offering you an opportunity to retreat if you wanted. But you leaned in as well, encouraging him to close the distance. His touch, initially gentle on your chin, migrated to cupping your face, while his left arm drew you nearer, enveloping you in his embrace. As his lips met yours, a wave of warmth surged through you, releasing the tension you had been holding. Your bodies melded seamlessly, and you found yourself swept away in the rhythm of the kiss. Though inexperienced, you gave in to the moment, surprised by the ease with which you followed his lead.

As if you weren't overstimulated enough, he moaned into your mouth, almost setting you ablaze. He made you want to tap out and it was only a kiss.

Sadly, you felt him slowly pull away but not without planting one last tender kiss against your lips. He still lingered close, his lips adorned with a gentle smile that spoke volumes of the connection you shared.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered against your lips.

"Goodnight.." you whispered back, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions as your high school crush had given you your first kiss.

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

Omg okay, I don't want to overwhelm yall, let me know when to stop lololol

Also, anyone who wants to be added to the tag list please DM me!!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #romanreignsoneshot #fanfiction #roman reigns fluff #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x reader

[str4wbaeby]

𝓶𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮 pt.3

ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ ˣ ᵇᵒᵒᵏʷᵒʳᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

⤷ note : pt.1 | pt.2 | moodboard

it has been a week since you've last visited the bookstore and a week since your encounter with Ren. though you two continuously text back and forth throughout the day, with him even ringing you up a few times, you still missed seeing his pretty face. there was just something about him, that made you crave for him more and it was definitely something more than just his beauty; maybe his attractive personality? or the way he carried himself so elegantly or maybe the fact that he was a social success, effortlessly mixing in with people while managing a perfect reputation.

he was completely opposite of you and probably someone you desired to be. you were introverted; always minding your own business on the sidelines with very little to say. you found solace in your own company, often indulging in reading or studying. it's not like you didn't have friends, but you were not someone who was easy to befriend either. keeping that in mind, you were quite shocked at how fast Ren managed to wiggle his way into your small little bubble. and you were not gonna lie, but you did infact enjoy his company a lot, frequently finding yourself coming back to him to share the little bits of your life as Ren eagerly waited for you.

you didn't notice how your thoughts swayed away your attention as you zoned out from reality, until you heard a notification pop up on your phone.

"I was thinking if you wanted to grab coffee at the cafe near the bookstore tomorrow. it's been so long since I saw your lovely little face! it'll be my treat btw </3"

of course, it was none other than Ren. the heart emoticon at the end of the text made your heart beat a little faster as you quickly typed out a response.

"sure, why not! I'm starting to miss you too. let's meet at bookstore tomorrow and then we can grab some coffee"

"alrighty! see you tomorrow then, pretty girl", Ren smiled softly at the screen, looking over at the texts you've sent him throughout the day. how can someone even be this cute? he thought, rolling over on his bed to face the wall as he caught a quick glance of the several pictures of you that decorated his room.

Ren Takahashi had everything one could ever desire. he had fame, he had money, a successful career and a respectable image to uphold; well, everything except one thing. and that was his muse. Ren's passion for writing drove from his unsuccessful love life, where he never really got to experience true love from the people he had been with. this resulted in him into resorting to use writing as his only means to express the desires that dwelled deep within his heart. but he was starting to become a little frustrated. he wanted to be loved too, to be cared for, to be held in the arms of his beloved. he wanted to feel what it was like when someone devoted their entire self in just loving him, having eyes for none other. and that would the greatest success in his eyes.

and that's when he met you.

he still remembers the day, the moment he first saw you. it wasn't unusual for one to get stuck in the morning traffic, but amidst the chaos of honking horns and impatient drivers, his gaze found you, and time seemed to stand still. the sun illuminated your features, casting a glow that made you appear almost ethereal. from that moment on, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had stumbled upon something truly special amidst the mundane routine of daily life. you were standing on the sidewalk with a bunch of books in your hands, the gentle breeze moving through your hair, tousling it in the process. and God, you took his breathe away. it was in that moment, he believed "love at first sight" to be true as he profusely thanked the universe to have listened to his wishes.

and something that caught his attention even more was the corner of one of his book peaking out from the bunch you were carrying, a smile making it's way upto his lips subconsciously.

he entered his office in a good mood, that day. he was supposed to start working on the draft of his new novel and let's just say, he found the inspiration for it.

though he knew it could be a bit difficult to get your complete information, but with the connections he had in hand, the task became relatively easier and before he even knew it his obsession with you started to root deep inside his heart.

the more he observed you, the more captivated he got by your presence.

you were just so perfect. how could you not be his?

it bothered him deeply, whenever the thought crossed his mind; not being able to pay attention to anything else as his mind bugged him to take you. he wanted you and he was ready to do anything to have you. you were his since the moment he laid his eyes on you, you just didn't know it yet.

as much as he loved to observe you from the shadows, it was finally time for him to introduce himself. standing in the empty isle, he saw how your small figure reached out to take his book, struggling a bit to get a hold of it. he literally squealed like a little girl inside. you made him feel like a teenager all over again. he waited, until you were so immersed in the book that you failed to notice him creeping up behind you. but when you did notice him though, looking up from the book with your adorable doe eyes and flushed cheeks to see his towering frame, his heart melted right then and there in that very moment, every second he had previously spend yearning for you, begging the Gods to listen to his desperate pleas felt all worth it.

he knew he finally had you in his grasp. and, he's never gonna let go of you

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere prompt #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male oc #yandere insert #yandere fic #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere boyfriend #x reader #x reader insert #x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere #mochiii.writes #divider creds: cafekitsune

[canmargesimpson]

Idk just a weird story I got in the middle of the night

When Robin told Steve they were going to New York to see an old friend, the last thing on his mind was to end up in an underground queer bar with drag queens and prostitutes. I mean he’s not complaining, but why couldn’t they meet over coffee like friends, or just a regular bar, but no. It had to be a basement of a pizza restaurant where glitter and the sticky feeling was all around them. 

“Robin, are you sure this is the place?” he said as she moved through the crowd to a free table, in front of the small yet very illuminated stage “cuz i dont think… these are your type of friends?”

“Hey handsome” a transvestite placed a hand on his shoulder and let her long nail press along making him shiver “Want something to drink?”

Robin smiled, completely pleased with the situation his friend was it

“Give me a rum and coke, and for the gentleman… get him a shirley temple please”

“What?! No!” steve shook his head “ a beer is fine please”

“A rum and coke and shirley temple on their way” she laughs as she walks away

Robin laughs too as she takes her purse and places it on the table. Steve just flips her off and looks around trying to understand where they were. The drinks were eventually served, and thankfully Steve got his beer, but also a phone number.

“Wet Wendy?” Steve reads “Her name is Wet wendy…”

“I have heard worst” robin scruggs, “and come on, have fun, you’re a fresh bisexual, and you're surrounded by everything you might like, no need to stress”

Steve breathes deeply and looks around, and before he can say something a loud music starts. It's a 80s like beat that is quite slow, and the lights started to go down while the stage curtains open

“Steve, it's starting,” Robin says as she hands him a 20 dollar bill. 

On the stage there's a chair and a woman with her back to the audience. She has long, vicious hair that is curly and puffy. The person turns around and starts to sing the song. 

“We broke up on a tuesday, 

kicked me out with the rent paid

Ruined my credit

Stole my cute aesthetic”

And oh boy was Steve hooked. Other than the amazing hair, she was wearing some small yet clear devil horns. On her face was drawn a big white heart on her face, with the rest being red. The face on her though made his jeans tight, but just a bit. I'm talking bright blue eyeshadow, with some jewels and some big lashes that made the eyes pop brighter than ever he thought it was possible. There was a red lip tainted on her lips that were glossy and shiny. And the outfit was the best part of it all. She was wearing black pleather heels with red and black lingerie that fit like a glove. No to add a thigh corset that shaped the body like an hourglass. Steve was drooling.

But when the bridge started steve was pretty sure he was in heaven

It’s hot

When you have a meltdown 

In the front of your house 

And you’re getting kicked out 

It’s hot

When you’re drinking downtown

And you’re getting called out 

Cause you’re running your mouth 

Oh god

The way she crawled on the floor while lip syncing the moans of the song made Steve's ears burn like a fever. She then layed on the floor on her back, to then arch it and show the red wine bra that had black jewels like nippels. She then got on her feet and got off the stage and walked around. People started to hand her dollars and she just grabbed them, stuffed them on her bra and then painties. Steve had to blink twice to make sure he was awake. 

The girl then noticed him. He cracked. He let out a sigh like a moan as she locked eyes with her. Her dark brown almost black eyes looked like those supernovae in Dustin space books. It just got him trapped voluntarily and it made him gulp. She started to strut to him and grabbed him by the jaw to look up at her. 

Ruin your life 

You losing you mind

You dying your hair 

People say I’m jealous but my kink is watching you

crashing your car 

You breaking your heart

You thinking I care

People say I’m jealous but my kink is karma 

She sang those words as she stared at him and smirked while taking a seat on his lap. God he was in trouble now. It took everything in him to stay still and not let his third leg rise up, but sometimes things just happen and it's inevitable. He looked up at her so ashamed and sorry for what he's doing, and for making her uncomfortable. She is trying to do her job and here is Steve with his willy hard. But it was as he looked up in awe at her, as she sang to the audience while dancing on him, that she enjoyed it of sorts. She then looked down at him, smirked and kissed him, hardly leaving a bright red stain on his lips that he would rather die than to take it off. 

She climbed off him and walked back to the stage to dance where she made it very clear that not only she loves the attention but also loves the feeling on the stage. She belongs there, with her hair flowing with her moves. The way she portrays the song made it feel like she was singing to him and only him. Steve felt like he was in a world with only him and her. It was crazy.

He didn't even realize she had left until robin was snapping her finger in front of him. He looked at her and blinked again quickly and looked around

“Where did she go?” 

“Her set finished 10 minutes ago, have you just been imagining her this entire time you perv?” she laughs, but steve just stares at her

“I need to meet her” he says

“Well you will”

“What!?”

“Yeah! In a few so go to the bathroom and get yourself together men, your friend joined the party, and that not really cute when meeting new people”

Steve stood up and ran to the bathroom that thank the lord was empty at the time. He washed his face and removed the lipstick stain from his lips  and tried to calm down whatever was happening with him and his body at the moment. God he's about to meet her! He need to make a great first impression because then he’s fucked. He moved his hair from one side to another till it looked great. He smiled to the mirror and winked hyping himself up. 

“Come on harrington, you got this' ' He said before leaving the bathroom.

Robin and him walked toward the back of the so-called bar to where a room with a star on the door hung where the word “dressing room” was written. Robin knocked twice before opening the door to find a bunch of men in makeup and robes running around changing wig and shoes. But on the very end, the dark curly mane stood up clearly. Steve swallowed and inhaled deeply as they walked into the dressing room towards her. She was wearing one of those 50s womens robes with the edge being fur. It was black with red fur and it was transparent enough for Steve to see some tattoos on her back that he didn't seem to see earlier. 

“Hey!!” Robin said excitedly and she turned around.

Steve’s smiles didn’t fall… but it definitely twitched.

“Hey robs” Eddie munson said with a cig on his lips. 

He looked better than Steve remembered from high school. He looked…. Amazing actually. The way his jaw was sharp and fine, his smirk was wider and flirtier than ever. He looked…. Even better than the stage.

“How are you feeling harrington?” he smirked “didn’t know you were one for underground bars, i thought you were more of a… 3 star michelin kind of guy”

The way he smoothed talked and slithered into Steve’s head made him literally stutter with his words

“I-i-i  I mean- You- wha- li-” he then gave up trying to speak and just nodded subtly “yep”

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #modern steddie

[foundheavenly]

Hello I wanted to ask about a fic with a dying SO in the arms of Geto,Gojo and Nanami?

If that's too much characters then I choose Gojo.

Thank you in advance

Slipping through my fingers

Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so please be nice

Words:

Pairing: gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader

Theme: heavy angst

Masterlist

Thank you for this requet but who hurt you??? I guessed I'm relieved that I like writing angst because I would have been a complete mess right now. <3

Nanami -

You were weak and battered, every breath feeling like a struggle against an invisible force. Kento held you in his arms, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"You can't leave me" Kento pleaded, his voice breaking. "I can't do this without you."

His heart was heavy with fear.

Right at that moment, his mind brought him back years ago. He saw himself back when he lost his only friend, the only person who had ever been his solace. He saw himself back when he lost Haibara. And right after this tragedy, he promised himself to protect those around him. He promised himself to protect you, to prevent anything from happening to you.

Yet here he was. His hands shaking and covered in fresh blood.

Your blood.

You reached up, cupping his cheek with a trembling hand. "You're strong, Kento. Stronger than you know. You'll carry on, and you'll make the world a safer place, just like we always dreamed."

Tears welled in Kento's eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling in the cold air of the room. "I can't imagine a world without you in it" he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heart breaking.

"Remember when we first met?" you whispered, a faint smile tugging at your quiver and cold lips. "You were so determined to save the world from curses, and I was just a stubborn girl with too much curiosity for her own good."

Kento chuckled softly, the memory of your first meeting flooding back to him. "You were always getting yourself into trouble" he recalled fondly. "But you had a heart of gold, and I knew from that moment that I couldn't let you face the dangers of this world alone."

Your tired and dull eyes met his and you took a sharp breath. "Kento.." you whispered, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Don't talk." He said firmly and choked back tears, his hands trembling a bit as they pressed against the wounds, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

You managed a weak smile, feeling a surge of warmth from his voice.

His thick fingers gently moved to your face and brushed against your cheek, his touch tender yet laden with sorrow. "You're going to be okay. You have to be."

You shook your head faintly and a faint chuckle escaped your lips, knowing the truth even as you clung to the last vestiges of hope. You weren't ready yet. You didn't want to leave him, not right now. Not when you were close to get married.

"You always were the optimist." You said, your voice barely a whisper. "But even you can't deny the truth forever, my love."

Your words got him.

Simply.

Quickly.

Terribly.

Tears spilled over his lashes, trailing down his cheeks in shimmering rivulets. "Nonsense." Kento insisted even though he was in pure panic, his voice cracking with anguish. "We will find a way. We always do."

It was the very first time his stern mask was breaking.

Your eyes fluttered open, the light within them dimming with each passing moment. "I don't want you to blame yourself." You murmured, voice slurred with deep pain. "This was my choice, my burden to bear."

You acted wtihout thinking. Wave of curses was attacking you over and over. Not sparring you nor him. You just shielded him with your body as he was getting exhausted.

"You are not leaving me." He said, desperation lacing his words. "I won't let you."

Your hand suddenly lost its grip on his cheek, the touch growing weaker with each passing second. "Remember me" You whispered, labored breathing. "Remember us."

"Always." Kento promised. "I will never forget you."

Gojo -

In the dimly lit room of an abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with tension and the scent of blood. Satoru, his normally blue vibrant eyes covered by his blindfold were now filled with worry, cradled you, his best friend, whose life was slipping away with each passing moment. The mission against the curses had taken a disastrous turn, leaving both of them battered and broken.

He was repeating himself that he couldn't lose you. No, he couldn't. Not you. Not after losing his best friend a few months ago.

With trembling hands, Satoru pressed down on the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood. "Hang in there," he whispered. His voice choked with emotion. He was trying hard to keep in control. "We will get you to Shoko."

You managed a weak smile, the effort visibly draining you. "I'm not sure I can hold on much longer, Toru" You rasped, each breath a struggle.

"Don't talk like that" The white haired man pleaded, his heart clenching at the sight of your pain. "You're stronger than this. You've survived worse. Way worse."

A faint chuckle escaped the your quiver lips, tinged with bitter irony. "Guess I used up all my luck on those past missions, huh?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head. "No, you're not allowed to give up. I won't let you."

In the distance, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse. Satoru's grip tightened around you, a mixture of fear and determination etched on his face.

"I wish I could have protected you better. I let my guard down." Satoru murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

You reached out, weak fingers brushing against his cheek. "You've always been there for me. That's more than enough."

Your conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shoko, rushing to your side. Satoru watched helplessly as she worked frantically to stabilize you, her efforts a blur against the backdrop of your fading consciousness.

Shoko looked at Satoru and he understood.

Darkness closed in around him, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I won't leave your side" he vowed, his voice trembling with unspoken emotions. "I promise."

And in that heartbreaking moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, Satoru whispered words of love to the one person who had always meant everything to him, even if he had never found the courage to say it aloud before.

Geto -

"I'm sorry, my love" whispered Geto, his voice trembling with sorrow as he pressed his lips to your forehead. "I never should have let you take that risk."

Lying on the cold stone floor, gasping for breath, a weak smile graced your lips as you struggled to speak. "It was our job, Suguru. Our job to protect the world from the darkness that lurks in the shadows."

Tears welled in his eyes as he held you tighter, as if trying to defy the inevitable. "But at what cost, my love? At what cost?"

He couldn't lose you. Oh, he could be selfish and cursed you so you could stay by his side. But he won't do this. Not to you.

Your breaths grew shallow, each one a painful reminder of your condition "Some sacrifices are necessary. For the greater good."

His heart clenched at the words, a mixture of pride and despair flooding his soul. "I cannot bear to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I have much time left." You said.

"Don't say that.” He murmured, his hands trembling as he tried to stop the blood. "We will get you out of here."

"It might be too late for that." You whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "The pain...is too powerful. It's consuming me from the inside."

Geto's heart clenched with despair as he realized the gravity of the situation. They had embarked on this mission together, determined to rid the world of the malevolent curses that threatened to engulf it. But now, faced with the prospect of losing you, his resolve wavered.

He was going to lose his mind.

He won't be able to live without you.

He can't lose you.

"We should never have taken this mission." Suguru murmured, his voice choked with regret. "I should have protected you."

You winced and reached out, grasping his hand with a strength born of sheer willpower. "Don't blame yourself. We knew the risks when we got to this school. And besides, we've met each other and I am happy I got to spend time with the love of my life."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed down at you, his heart heavy with sorrow. "I love you. I can't bear to lose you."

"I love you too, my love" You replied with a genuine smile, her voice barely audible now. You were close to the end. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything," Suguru vowed, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Promise me that you'll keep going." You whispered, your grip on his hand weakening with each passing moment. "Promise me that you'll never give up and lose yourself, no matter what."

Suguru gulped and nodded.

"I promise" He vowed, his voice filled with determination.

You smiled faintly, your strength fading with each heartbeat.

Your eyes fluttered closed, Geto pressed his lips to your forehead, whispering a silent prayer to whatever gods he didn't really believe in might be listening.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo #geto #nanami #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader

[ghostwnby]

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

----

The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it. 

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists. 

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering. 

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady. 

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction. 

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against. 

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.) 

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office. 

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record. 

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.” 

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there. 

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up. 

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.” 

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard. 

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man. 

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?” 

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. 

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before. 

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.” 

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss. 

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months. 

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit. 

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a  summer vacation, he would be pissed too. 

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four. 

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more. 

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested. 

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.” 

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?” 

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head. 

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold. 

“Whatever.” 

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

#f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #maxiel #formula 1 #red bull f1 #mclaren #lando norris

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Little Girl Gone- Emily X GN!Reader/BAU X GN!Reader.

Synopsis: Being back in your old town, it’s no surprise you’d have to see a person you never wanted to see again, the only difference is this time is that you can handle yourself.

Warnings: Insinuations of past abuse but no details given, misuse of reader's pronouns by abuser not the team, talks of not handling past trauma but Emily is there for us, we’re really just a badass.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: THIS MAY HAVE A TRIGGER FOR ANYONE WITH PAST TRAUMA AND I DIDNT INCLUDE ANY DETAILS FOR THAT REASON, IF THAT MAY BE TOO MUCH FOR YOU PLEASE SKIP THIS ONESHOT. Other than that, yes this is based off a song leave me alone 🥰 You guys have no idea how long I’ve wanted to get something out for you guys, hopefully more will come soon!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

You had heard he's back in town, and clearly, he hasn't changed a bit.

He was sitting there, appearing clueless, with you staring at him behind the glass. Your anger was boiling to the surface, and while it was clear to the team you were upset, they had no idea.

Your attention snapped back when a mention of your name was heard, the reason was beyond you, "That's what this is about? That bitch Y/n?" He chuckled and it made you sick. "Please, that little girl has nothing on me."

Hearing the way he said your name brought back some unfriendly memories you tried so hard to forget.

But when he muttered your name again, seeing how much it pissed Derek off, you knew you needed to do something. You have heard enough, it's not about you. It's about the 3 murdered girls.

You opened the door of the observation room to see Hotch standing there, "I'm going in there."

"That's not a good idea, you know that. He's trying to get under your skin."

"Hotch, with all due respect, I wasn't asking. Besides, I'm not the small child he last saw me as. I'm going in the there."

Hotch just quietly stood back, maybe a familiar face would get him to give them something they could use.

You walked into a familiar scene, Derek towering over the unsub shouting at the top of his voice, and the unsub pretending it's doing nothing to them.

"YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS-"

"Derek!"

With your interruption, both men stopped and looked towards you. Derek knew it was up to you, but he didn't like that idea. 

And him. Oh, him. 

He looked like he thought he'd finally got something he wanted if only he knew. Well, he would soon enough.

"Derek, I've got this. Go take a breather, I think Garcia has something she wanted to go over with you."

"I'm not leaving you in here with him." He stood tall in protest.

The man stood, suddenly filled with some form of faux confidence, "Yeah, little girl, you don't wanna be left here with me, unless you do?" His sadistic simper took over his face, his arm reaching out to touch you.

You grabbed his wrist and instantly snapped it back, flipping his arm behind him and then slamming him into the metal interrogation table.

"Oh, you wanna fight me now?" You pulled his arm further. "That little girl is gone. So tell me, are you big enough?"

"Fucking bitch!" His pain filled his voice and you tried to hide the joy it brought you.

"Do you feel that? Me twisting your arm until it breaks? Do you see how much stronger I've gotten?" He was struggling under you, and you were handling him with ease.

Derek was proud watching you, knowing the things that happened to you.

But the rest of the team was behind the glass watching carefully, they knew about him but not the things he'd done. But they did know your strength.

But now, he was groaning and mumbling something.

"Say that again, I didn't quite hear ya! You messed with the wrong 'bitch' in the wrong era!" You pulled him up off the table and shoved his face into the wall in a quick move, moving closer to him, "Honey, I changed so much since I last saw ya."

"I'm gonna say it, I'm proud of them." Rossi wasn't hiding his proud smile either as he watched you move him around like a rag doll.

You once again pulled him from the wall and slammed him back into the table.

"You know, maybe I will leave. I think I'd grab a cup of coffee, want some L/n?" Derek asked, knowing you definitely could handle yourself.

"I'm good, I'm awake now."

"NO NO NO! She'll kill me! You can't leave me alone with her!" He pleaded, as much as he could with his face smashed into metal.

"You know, I don't really think that's a bad thing. Do you, L/n?"

"Not at all."

He tried moving from your grasp, "No!"

"Then tell me where the girl is!" Derek slammed his hands on the table in his face, though he was still firmly pinned to the table all thanks to you, you could still feel the way he flinched.

Within the moments you walked into that room, the man finally showed how scared he actually was, realizing that now he truly is nothing.

"BOAT!"

You pull him off the table, holding him to face Derek and the team behind the mirror. 

"What was that?" You asked, hearing what he said but needing more details.

"The girl. She's on a boat. Down at the marina, slip 7."

"Ah, so you do know what's good for you." Derek said as he left the room.

"No! Wait!"

A smirk came to your face, and you knew that if you weren't an active agent you'd definitely get your revenge.

In a swift move, you had him pinned to the wall by his throat.

You took a split second to look at the man that robbed you of so much.

My god did he look like shit.

Years didn't do him good, and the illegal things he tried to hide likely didn't help.

"You. You got lucky. I've got too damn much to lose if I go after you now," You were practically seething. "But know this, you are nothing. You are shit. I took all of what happened to me, and I made something of myself. I did. Me. So don't you think for one second that you ever had an effect on me." He definitely had an effect on you, years worth of effects. But he wasn't going to know that. He didn't need that. 

He may have ruined the child you were, but he doesn't get to even be near the person you grew into.

You simply released him, part of the child that's still inside you wanted to do more but the other part of that child was so proud of how far you came.

You left him for the uniformed officer to take, walking out of the interrogation room to get some air or a drink, only there was something in your path.

Or rather, some people.

Half the team to be precise. David, Emily, and Reid were still in the precinct. And they just witnessed basically everything.

"I'm proud of you kiddo," Rossi spoke first, and only then did you release the breath you were holding.

"Thanks."

"I think this calls for a celebration, tonight. Your pick." He spoke with a head nod and walked out.

Reid just did his smile thing, and you knew you'd both likely have a conversation later.

But Emily, she stayed put, letting you go to her.

"You know you can let it out now, only if you want of course." She said finally as you walked up to her.

A shaky breath left you and you attempted to hide it with a faux chuckle.

She did know you the best.

"Come on, out with it. You know you can talk to me." Her damn eyebrow raise had you wanted to spill everything like always.

"I was so scared, Em." Another unstable breath came from your lips.

Emily reached up to wipe a tear you hadn't felt escape.

"God, I'd be worried if you weren't. You're only human." Her hand went to cup your cheeks, and for a second you simply looked into her eyes.

You didn't really know what to say, so you said nothing. You feared the only thing that would come out would be a sob.

"You handled that so well, and I speak for the team when I say I'm proud of you. It was hot the way you handled him." A small chuckle left you, she always knew how to get you to laugh.

"It just, brought back so many things I've tried for so long to forget." You looked to the floor with shame, ashamed it still got to you.

"Hey, look at me," She pointed your chin so you'd look at her. "Don't think that there's ever a right time to just 'get over it' because there's not. Everyone has their own timeline, and their own way of coping, that makes us human. And the fact that you didn't give in to the revenge you know you were thinking of, just shows how much you've grown."

She was right. Of course she was, when wasn't she? She knew the ins and outs of you. Every curve and every line. She knew your soul better than your body did.

"Come on, the team will finish the paperwork and we can go back to the hotel, you can shower and we'll meet them after for drinks." Your head rested against her shoulder as she put her arm around you while you both walked out of the precinct.

While you both arrived at your hotel room, the team safely got the girl from the boat, though she was a bit shaken up, she was unharmed. Physically, at least.

While the shower helped relax your tense body, it didn't help much with the resurfacing memories. You were simply disassociating at a cracked shower tile until Emily took it upon herself to be your distraction in the shower.

And of course, it certainly helped.

And later on, the team did their best to talk about pretty much anything but the case. Not like you were really upset about that honestly.

Having the people who you cared about around you, that's what helped the most. Having your love by your side and having your family around you.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @bigolgay @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @hxzxrdous @sgelessoanddoveykissing

I feel like I’m forgetting a few people on my tag list so comment if you want to be a part of my updated tag list!

#emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #bau team #criminal minds #badass reader #fanfic #oneshot #sapphic #fluff #bau x reader

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?

I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.

The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.

Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.

The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.

Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.

I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.

PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.

#am i the asshole #aita

[cheianimatez]

Doubts (Gaming x GN!Reader) (SAGAU IMPOSTER AU)

(Might be a bit OOC, pls correct me 🥲)

"G-Gaming...?"

Gaming's body froze, you knew his name. He lowered his weapon, his doubts coming back to his mind. Ever since everyone was given an order to kill the "imposter" by their "Divine Creator", he thought "Why the heck would we hunt someone just because they have the same face as them, that's a bit cliche 🫤", but he can't defy his god, for he fears punishment.

But you, you knew his name, like you personally knew him, unlike the one on the throne.

"You're not going to kill me...?"

His thoughts got interrupted by your voice, sensing fear in it. He sighed.

"Honestly, despite everyone claims you impersonated Our Grace, you never did anything wrong at all. You also knew my name, unlike the one on the throne who didn't knew me at all, or maybe anyone else"

You looked at him, your fear dwindling down but still kept your guard.

"Yeah, probably that. In fact, I literally appeared here, then everyone started hunting me, like bro, do I look like I'm going to do some heinous crimes that they don't think their Grace or whatever the heck they call them would do?"

Gaming tried his best to hold his laugh. Somehow, even in tough times, you surprisingly have humor (even speaking his language /j). Maybe that kept you sane while you're being hunted down or something.

Then they heard voices. It's the Milileth. Gaming looked at the "imposter", suddenly feeling bad for them.

And that's when he decided to be against the order, deciding his own fate by himself

"Hey, what are you- UHH WHAT THE F--"

Gaming them immediately gave you a glare to shut you up.

"Oi, quiet! I'm going to help this time because who the frick would order people to kill someone just because they have the same face as them?!"

You looked at him in disbelief. He's helping you? But I guess you should be grateful this time, the last time someone helped you is Bennett, Fischl, Razor, and Mona helping you to escape Mondstadt, then you got killed by the Acting Grandmaster Jean, returned home to your world, then managed improved your life there until you fell asleep at the end of the day, only to find yourself you respawned in Liyue, and now the Milileth, the Qixing, heck even the Geo broke ahh grandpa Archon started chasing you! And I guess I could say it's enough for you to slowly develop distrust against anyone. Until this guy started to help you.

"I'm going to take you to my house. My father will probably understand my doubts of this... order..."

You stayed silent as Gaming carried you on the back away from the hunters, safely hidden from them.

"You know, I really wanted to go home. I had known these types of events that would happen in this world when I came, but I half didn't expect this sht would happen to me. I don't want godhood, I don't want to become a god higher than the Archon, I don't like how really submissive but blind these people are when it comes to faith on their beloved "Creator". All I wanted is a perfectly normal life, here in Teyvat, and now I wanted to go back home because of what I suffered..."

Okay, now he felt really bad. You didn't deserved this! He felt thankful for following his guts.

"Anyways, Gaming, did you know I actually laughed at your voiceline about your troubles? Like the way you said "How much?!" and "I'm not paying for a few extra wet wipes!" got me rolling! Oh, and your thoughts on Qiqi, it's so wholesome! I'm glad Qiqi gets the respect she deserves..."

To be honest, when he brought you to his house, he is already flustered about how much you knew him, praised him, heck even he heard you said a lot people from your world liked him because of his personality. Gaming could feel like jumping to the atmosphere, he felt being recognized.

Meanwhile, you feel your trust coming back again, and it's directed towards the guy whom everyone in the fandom called him the "sunshine boi".

And you're quite thankful that he's not blind like those rodents (blinder than Dora the Explorer lol 💀)

"You know, I feel... happy about how much you knew me and praised me. I feel recognized unlike Our Grace for not answering our prayers."

ISTG THIS GUY IS MAKING OUR DAYS BETTER 😭😭💖💖💖

"Anyways, want some dim sum? 😃"

Yo, this is my first time writing a one shot in Tumblr. I usually write the stories on my notebook at school, and maybe sometimes post in Wattpad (I'm barely active there anymore, just only used it for reading purposes-)

#sagau impostor au #gaming x reader #can be read as platonic or romantic #genshin sagau #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gaming being a gen z as usual lol

[uponthefantasy]

°○ Missing | Hashira x platonic! Tsuguko! Reader Headcanon| ○°

How the hashiras react to having to fight you as a demon.

Description: It's been weeks since they had last seen you, and they were already worried over their minds. When it is officially declared that you're missing, they look all over for you, only to find you as one of the enemies.

Genre: Angst.

Characters: Giyuu Tomioka and Kyojuro Rengoku.

°○ Giyuu Tomioka ○°

Giyuu already had a bad feeling about you leaving for that mission, and seeing your condition now had proved his suspicions.

You're usually tan body was now as pale as snow, those innocent eyes with round pupils that gave your face just a bit more charm and cuteness were now paled in comparison of the color before, and your rounded pupils were now slits. Fangs had protruding from your gums, giving you the look of a monster. You had become a demon. It hurt him to see you in such a way, knowing that your cheery, sweet soul was dead, replaced with something cold and heartless.

It was his fault anyway.

If he hadn't let you go on the damn mission in the first place, none of this would've happened. Instead, he was now standing in front of a shell of who you truly were, something that was no longer the sweet, cheerful tsuguko that Giyuu had promised to protect, just like he promised for every other person who he still failed to protect in his life. He couldn't protect his sister. He couldn't protect his best friend. And now he failed to protect the last person he was truly able to care and love for, his tsuguko.

He watched as you charged forward, aming for him with nothing but pure, animalistic hunger in your eyes. He had to accept that you were no longer human. No longer the person who had changed his life for the better. Instead of enjoying a peaceful day of your return, he was standing here, getting into a stance and slicing the delicate head off your shoulders, his ocean eyes turning glossy while doing so.

Giyuu stared at your withering body with no emotion. You were gone. For good. He slowly turned around and walked away, his eyes glossy and his heart broken.

"I'm sorry, Y/n.... I couldn't protect you..." He whispered.

°○ Kyojuro Rengoku ○°

For one of the very few times in his life, Rengoku had failed to smile. His usual heart filled with warmth was now full with a mix of shock, guilt, and sorrow. He felt like he couldn't even move when his bright, firey eyes stopped upon your demonic frame. The snow-white skin, sharp claws, and weird markings all over your body told him exactly everything he needed to know.

You were a demon.

Despite the feeling of anguish in his heart, he charged forward, taking a swift slice of his bright red sword towards your pale, delicate neck. Though it hurt him to have to do such a thing to someone so dear to him, he knew it was for the great or good.

He watched as you slowly faded away, his eyes filled with sorrow as you ever so slightly disappeared from the world.

"Goodbye, Y/n. I'll see you again soon." He spoke, his eyes widening once he heard soft words emitting from the remainder of your mouth.

"Goo....dbye....juro..."

Before he could blink, you were gone. Leaving him alone to face the world once again.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu #giyu #kny tomioka #demon slayer tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #tomioka giyū #kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #kny kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyōjurō #kny rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x reader #angst #kny angst #demon slayer #headcanon #imagines

[p00pdev1l]

sour switchblade

A/N: aki hayakawa, the man that you are (insert ash baby reaction here) warnings: i mention smoking, alcohol, and hint suggestive situations. aki hayakawa x gn!reader (no mentions of pronouns), very short, i'm sorry, i just had to get it out of my brain.

“How are you so good at this?” you asked in disbelief. A small smile crept onto his lips, amused by your surprise. He took a moment of silence to answer before simply shrugging in response, his cerulean gaze unwavering as he strategized his next move. 

“Just lucky I guess.” The sweating beer placed beside him was still filled to its top, any carbonation now at a dull simmer. With nimble fingers, he tossed the small hollow ball with barely any effort, making it into the last cup laid out on your side of the table, deftly finishing the game with another win, for the 5th time that night. The players across from you groan in defeat, Aki now turning his attention towards you. 

“I’m going to go outside for a bit.” He announced, but still awaited your acknowledgement, you could tell this setting was becoming overwhelming for him as a homebody. You gave him a quick nod in approval before his taller form carefully made his way past you, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes before disappearing further into the house as he cut through the crowd. Your close friends standing beside you couldn’t help but gawk at your effortlessly cool boyfriend. 

“Your boyfriend is hot.”, “Seriously! I’m jealous!”, “Does he have a brother–or a sister?”, “Where does he work?” You laughed at the series of questions. It was obvious their social filters were entirely subdued by the effects of alcohol. Yours unfortunately, in desperate need of liquid courage to feel even remotely comfortable divulging in such personal questions. “I’m going to need a drink before answering any of this.” you answer honestly with a smile, breaking away from the friendly integration. 

Heading back toward the beer pong table, you grabbed Aki’s untouched beer for your own. And upon your short return, your friends remained too distracted by their own discussion about your love life to acknowledge your company. You took this moment to break away, your eyes falling onto a familiar figure outside. Aki stood out on the patio, gazing into the night sky with a cigarette between his fingers, something he’d do quite often in seeking a moment of solace. You cut through the crowd with a soft smile at your lips, slipping outside to join him.

“Care for some company?” you asked as you pulled the glass door shut, sealing off the boisterous noise from inside. “Only if it’s yours.” gray wisps fell from his lips as he spoke, his eyes now fixed on your own. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading through your face, backing yourself against the patio railing leaning beside him. 

“I think my friends are in love with you.” you smiled to yourself, gazing past the reflection of you and Aki, watching your peers enjoying the ongoing party behind the secluded glass barrier. Aki simply scoffed, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. A comfortable silence hung between you two before he spoke again.

“Are you?” he asked with a small smile of his own. Your eyebrows furrowed at his vague question. Hearing the inquisitive hum that soon left your lips, he reiterated “Are you in love with me?” His eyes shifted to meet yours, your lips parted in response to the sudden attention of his intense gaze. The steady thrum of your heartbeat now rattling its cage behind your chest. You regained your confidence by rolling your eyes, gently pushing your shoulder into his.

“Something like that.” you responded, trying to carry a cadence of playful indifference, but instead nerves made your voice sound meekish. The hem of Aki’s lips formed another lazy smile, returning his gaze out toward the city. 

“That’s all that matters to me.” he let his comment sit with you before continuing the conversation, “What other questions did they ask?” 

“What do you do for work? If you had any siblings, if you are good with your hands–” your last sentence came out as a jumble of words, but Aki was quick to pick up on it, raising a dark brow in response. “If I’m good with my hands?” 

“Well, it was a question I overheard—but a question nonetheless.” 

“What would your answer be?” He asked curiously, pressing his remaining lit cigarette into the metal railing before tossing it into an ashtray nearby. You tilted your head in thought, Aki observing you from the side of his eye. “I’m not sure if I’ve experienced your hands enough to judge their talents yet.” you answered, a familiar heat rising in your abdomen at the idea of his wandering hands. 

“Do you want to find out?”

divider credit: @/eloquentreverie

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki x you #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #csm x reader #csm x you #jazz.writes #maybe i'll come back to this eventually #ITS SO HARD TO WRITE SMUT FOR AKI

[athenagranted]

idk if you're still writing the post-cemetry scene fic with pining eddie (idk if i'm describing it right) but i would love to hear more about it/see a snippet or too if you feel so inclined 👀

someone asking about angsty pining fic in the month of our lord april 2024? this was such a lovely surprise 😭 i'm gonna be honest with u anon i'm likely not going to publish 911 fic again BUT because you asked so nicely i'll give you a few older snippets from my draft:

Eddie sighs, breaking the stare. “You have a key, you know,” he says finally. “Feel free to come join me whenever you want.” He turns on his heel and walks back inside to finish his goddamn brownies, leaving Buck standing in the doorway.  It’s silent for a few minutes. He’s in the middle of measuring a tablespoon of espresso powder when Buck steps into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. Eddie feels the weight of Buck’s gaze on him as he folds the powder into his brownie mixture, but he doesn’t turn to meet his eye until Buck speaks.  “Is that…” Buck falters. He clears his throat. “Is that my recipe?”  “Yeah,” Eddie says gruffly. “Chris asked me to make it. Said he wanted to share it with his friends when they come over tomorrow for their playdate.”  Buck snorts. “Man, you can’t call it that. Chris nearly bit my head off last time I tried. Kept reminding me that ‘playdates are for kids, Buck,’ and that he’s not a kid anymore.”  Buck emphasizes that last bit with air quotes, and Eddie can’t help but grin at that. But his smile fades instantly, remembering the somber look on Buck’s face when he’d opened the door. He highly doubts that Buck came over just to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of watching Christopher grow up.  Eddie bites the bullet. “Why are you here, Buck?”  Buck shifts nervously. He shrugs and looks away from Eddie. “I — I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. You’ve never asked me that before.”  Eddie scrubs at his face. “I've never had to ask you that, Buck. Things are different now. You’ve been busy.” 

+

“Wow,” Buck says acidly, all traces of heartbreak gone. “I’ve never heard that one before.”  Eddie frowns. “What?”  “Really, Eddie?” Buck’s voice cracks on the last syllable. He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. Just — unbelievable.” “Buck — what are you talking about?”  “We were just trying to protect you, Evan," Buck mocks. "You were never supposed to find out. We kept it from you because we love you. Any of that sound familiar to you?” Eddie’s breath hitches on the word love, because he doesn’t know, he can’t know, but then —  Oh.  Fuck.

+

Buck: We’ll get through this just like everything else. I promise. It’ll be okay.  Buck: Eddie, did you eat enough today? Should I come by and bring you some food? Buck: You know you’re still my best friend, right? That’s never going to change, Eddie. Never.  He reacts with a thumbs up or a tap-back heart on most of the messages, too exhausted to do anything else. He replies with a thumbs down to the message about food, certain that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Buck so soon. He knows he’ll have to face him in person eventually, but his tired, broken heart just wants to postpone it as much as he can.  The last one, though, is a balm that both soothes and agitates Eddie’s burning, aching heart, and he taps out a brief, Thank you, you too. Always, in response. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, and Eddie wishes once again that he was a little better at resisting Buck, that he didn’t feel that need to reply to his every message lest Buck worry even more about him. The only one he actually acknowledges is a message that comes in at 2:43 AM on Sunday. As he opens the message, Eddie absentmindedly wonders if Buck’s having a hard time falling asleep for the same reason as him. Probably.  It’s a link to a new exhibit at the Griffith Observatory, accompanied by a text that reads: Can I take Christopher here next weekend? Eddie squeezes back tears as he replies with a brief, Of course, and puts his phone down, letting the darkness swallow him again. 

+

Hen beats him to it. “What happened, Buck? I thought you really liked her. Weren’t you planning to introduce her to Maddie and Chimney next week?”  “Not anymore,” Buck mutters. “I broke up with her.”  “What?” Eddie snaps head snaps up. “Why?”  Buck doesn’t meet his gaze, his lip quivering. The rest of their team is watching them, eyes darting back and forth, and Buck blinks hesitantly before swallowing down a sip of coffee. He wipes the cream off of his upper lip and looks Eddie in the eye.  “You know why,” Buck whispers. 

#i love sad men. also thank u for the ask btw it does mean a lot that someone was still thinking about this fic <3 #rae writes #fic: blue skies #answered #anon

[hyuuukais]

⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, blood/injuries

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 3 ~ LAKE HAVEN (2.1k)

The bell by the door rings, signaling somebody entering the store and you put your phone down. An elderly lady is walking around looking at the different displays you have out to buy, most of which were created out of boredom between client orders. She's looking at a bouquet of pink and purple roses wrapped tightly in a white lace. You made that two days ago for a baby shower but made one too many, putting the extra out this morning after the order was picked up. The woman picks up the bouquet and smiles wide, looking up at you from where she's standing away from the counter.

"These are beautiful," she says, her voice frail.

"Thank you," you say, standing up straight. Compliments always give you a boost of confidence. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Flowers for my daughter's wedding, it's tomorrow and her florist fell through," she shakes her head, bringing the flowers to the front. "Oh, she's been waiting for this day ever since she was a little girl. I'm glad I get to see her married before... well, she's my last grandchild to be wed, you see."

"Exciting! You must be a pretty great grandmother coming here to get her new flowers," you smile. "Normally we don't do this, but I can make a personal arrangement if you'd like and have it done to be picked up by tonight-"

"No, no, dear," she declines. "These will be just perfect."

They're a bit wilted at the edges, but you don't argue with her. Instead, you ring up the price and let her pay. When her card payment doesn't go through for the third time, you offer to pay for her.

"I don't know why it's not working," she sighs. "Can you read the date for me? It shouldn't expire for another month..."

"Of course," you take the card from her and your face pales. "U-um, ma'am, this has been expired for four years."

"Four years?" The woman shakes her head. "That's... that's..."

When you look up from the card, you barely hold in a gasp at the change in the woman's appearance. The entire right side of her face is skeletal, and the flesh still on her bones is rotted and sunken in. She reaches out with a shaky hand and takes her card back from you, your fingers brushing and you're temporarily blinded. You find yourself looking up at her from behind the counter, your vision blurry. When did you hit the floor?

"Oh, dear," the woman joins you behind the counter, a hand snaking up your neck and jaw. "I-I never saw my granddaughter's wedding. What a shame..."

A wave of dizziness hits you, your sight blurring as her other hand comes up onto the other side of your face. Her hands travel up and into your hair, smoothing it down and away from your face. The way she's touching you is gentle, but dangerous. You can feel your heartbeat slowing and your breaths getting lighter and lighter the longer her skin is making contact with yours. Eyelids fluttering shut, you let the woman take your head into her lap, shushing you, reassuring you maybe, but you can't make out her words any longer. Her ghostly touch feels more solid by the second.

Right as you're about to let sleep take you, she's being ripped off of you and your head hits the ground, but it doesn't register. You hear shouting, open your eyes to see two shapes arguing, one keeping the other away from your body. Slowly, you can feel yourself regaining enough strength to sit up against the wall. Placing your head in your hands, you groan at the sharp pain radiating from your temples to the back of your skull.

"Are you okay?" You recognize Jeongin's voice. "Y/n, answer me."

"S-sure," you exhale, rubbing your eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. What the fuck was that?"

"Like I said, other spirits are catching on, even ones who dont know they're dead yet," Jeongin begins to explain. "Now that they know you can communicate with us, they're not going to stop trying to get to you."

"But why?" You shake your head.

"Energy- they want it, crave it," he sits with his back against the counter across from you. "Didn't you feel it?"

"Is that what that was?" He nods. "Oh... what about you?"

"Some of us are less desperate. Some just want to finish what they're here for, whatever that may be." He shrugs. "Enough about that. Have you learned anything else?" When you don't answer, he sighs. "You literally have one job."

Your head jumps up at this and you're about to tell him your one job is the flower shop, not helping him, but you see he's looking away from you trying not to laugh. Unable to hold back, a small giggle leaves your lips and his eyes find yours. Soon, you're both laughing and you don't even notice the way your headache has disappeared. All you can focus on is the sound of him, the way his eyes turn into crescent moons as his smile grows wider and wider. If he weren't dead, you'd take this opportunity to ask him out. What?

"I'll have you know I did try contacting a private investigator, but he hasn't been much help," you admit and show him the texts.

"He seems enthusiastic about this," Jeongin teases and you roll your eyes. "I might have something, not sure if it's helpful yet though. There's this lake outside of the city-"

"Lake Haven?" You ask and he nods, opening his mouth. "I used to go there all the time as a kid! I haven't been back in years."

"Eager to go back at all?" He asks. "Cause I think there's something out there, but like everything else, it's blank. It might be similar to the playground. Going there might unlock something?"

"It's worth a shot," you say with a shrug.

An hour goes by and you're pulling into a narrow dirt road leading to a slew of private cottages. Jeongin points to one that looks as dead as him, and you turn into the driveway. It's an older house with a sign on the door indicating it's closed for upcoming renovations, but there don't seem to be any workers at the moment. Hesitantly, you open your car door and make your way to the front of the house.

It's small and simple compared to the rest of the cottages, dust greeting you as you open the creaky door. Jeongin moves past you and takes in your surroundings, taking a deep breath and you watch his shoulders untense. If he's remembering anything already, he's not sharing, but watching him tells you enough. There's a direct pathway to glass double doors on the other side and he stops, fingers trailing over the kitchen island next to him. When his hand stops, you notice a chunk of faux marble missing from the edge. Jeongin's smile falters slightly, removing his hand and examining the broken island.

"I remember this- this is from a party Hyunjin threw here without his dad knowing," Jeongin places a hand on each side of the marble and closes his eyes, hanging his head between his arms. "Stupid."

"Is that why we're here?" You ask, hand hovering above his shoulder. Before you can touch him, he moves away.

"No," Jeongin opens the back door. "No, it's not. Out here, ladies first."

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as you walk through the exit. The doors open up to a small yard with a path leading down to the shore, a wooden dock waiting at the end with a dirty boat for fishing. Two rods are sitting on the seat with a tackle box by the nose, a splash of what looks like red paint on the top handle. There are a few chairs folded up and leaning against the porch you just walked off of, Jeongin grabbing two of them for you to sit on.

Quiet; it's quiet out here at the lake. You don't recognize this part and assume you must have stayed on the other side. This area is more secluded, trees and bushes lining the edges of the water with only small rocky shores peaking out for people to park their boats and get in the water. A bird sings somewhere to your far left, and as you turn your head you catch a glimpse of a boy standing on the bottom step of the porch, causing you to jump. Fists clenching with anxiety, you recognize the blonde boy- Hyunjin. He's got orange swim shorts on and a loose white tank top, dark roots starting to show on his scalp. His expression is hard to read, somehow blank and full of emotion, but it quickly changes as another boy comes bounding down the steps and down the dock, a smile that reaches his eyes forming.

Hyunjin is jogging down the sandy path between wooden structures, grabbing the wrist of the other boy who you see is Jeongin. Time has passed since the last memory; they're almost fully grown here, probably older teenagers. Jeongin is pulling his wrist away, but he's laughing, and so is Hyunjin as he forces the boy closer to him. He's locked his arms around Jeongin tightly, swaying them side to side as the younger one tries to escape his grip. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous look on Jeongin's face right before he throws them both over the edge of the dock and into the water, successfully breaking away from his captor.

"This is the day I got my first car," present-day Jeongin leans over to whisper in your ear, a small shiver going down your spine. "I wasn't supposed to drive this far, but Hyunjin suggested coming out here to celebrate since it would be empty this time of year. The water-"

"Jeongin!" Hyunjin screams, jumping back onto the dock. "It's freezing!"

"-was very cold." You laugh as Jeongin finishes his sentence with a breathy laugh to match yours.

"Come back or I'll pull you back in!" Younger Jeongin shouts, moving to float on his back.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't sound so sure about that," Jeongin floats closer to the dock, hand outstretched to wrap slender fingers around Hyunjin's ankle. "Test me."

Hyunjin replies by kicking water at him, which turns out to be a huge mistake. No hesitation, he's not so gently yanked into the lake, coming up with a gasp. After a moment of silence and a look of pure betrayal on Hyunjin's face, Jeongin splashes him again. This time, Hyunjin is prepared and swims out of the way. They continue to splash and fight and swim, laughter bubbling up through the air, and you find yourself unable to keep the smile off your face as you watch this moment of happiness between friends.

Looking over at Jeongin, you see a sad smile on his face. His eyes are focused on the two of them, and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his head. He must miss Hyunjin like crazy, and Hyunjin must miss him as well.

"We could tell him," you say softly, Jeongin's attention turning to you.

Up close, you notice details you haven't before; the sharpness of his cheekbones, his plump lips. He's very beautiful, he would have killed it in the world of acting.

"Tell him what? That you're talking to his dead best friend?" Jeongin shakes his head. "No way. You're out of your mind."

"Yeah but-" you cut yourself off.

Back out in the water, the boys are gone, but there's someone out there. It's hard to see from this distance, but you think you can see a man standing upright in a boat holding something sharp in his hand. You can feel Jeongin tense beside you, and you're not feeling any more comfortable. The man holds the object up to his throat, making eye contact with you the whole time as he slides it across his skin, red washing down under his shirt. You can't tear your eyes away as he collapses over the edge, disappearing under the water. The boat floats eerily by itself, a weird feeling washing over you.

"Who was that?" You ask, finally pulling your eyes back to Jeongin. "He seemed... like he knew us."

"I don't know," Jeongin replies.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, no ideas of who it could be. All you knew is that he was a ghost too, showing you how he died. There's a buzz in your pocket-

notes ~ who was that man 👀

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#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader