#not proud of this or how long it took but fuck it we ball

[updownlately]

how could i ever (treat my baby that way)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 4.7k | inspo: never keeping secrets by babyface | a/n: got this ask a long ass time ago and it's finally gone somewhere. this is part one to a two part fic! (read part ii here)

~~~

You’d think that between the chilly air coming out of the air conditioning in the room and the freezing cold drink in your hand that you’d be comfortably cool, body not overheating despite being in a slightly crowded bar. 

You hoped that would be the case, just like it had been many times before. Yet, the way your body was burning right now contrasted your prayers, unusual for you, yet not surprising given the circumstances.

You knew you were pissed, could nearly feel the steam coming out of your own ears before your emotions could even make themselves known. It sucked, having to accept your fate, letting yourself get more and more agitated at the sight in front of you, hand tightening on your glass, fingertips white. But that’s all you could do, invisible rope holding you back, keeping your hands tied, the artist no other than the one you loved.

Letting your eyes drift over to the blonde, your blonde, in the middle of the dance floor, your jaw tightened. 

You knew she was yours, the two of you having been together for over a year now. You knew she was yours, your apartment being the one she resided in the most. You knew she was yours, ‘I love you’s’ whispered in the mingled breathes you shared late into the night. You knew she was yours. So why didn’t it feel like it?

Your unwavering gaze, almost like two laser beams, focused on your girlfriend, mentally begging her to look your way, to see the hurt in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath to try (and fail) to calm yourself down, you quickly downed the rest of your drink, thankful to have gone the sober route tonight. You didn’t know what drunk you would’ve done in all this hurt, and you surely didn’t want to find out.

Contemplating whether you should swim your way through the sea of people to the bar, you waited. You waited, and waited, and waited, pleading to the universe that she would meet your eyes.

She didn’t look. 

Not a single glance was sent your way.

She didn’t care. 

Shaking your head, anger quickly turning into disappointment, then sadness, you stepped out of where you were in the corner, having preferred to stay back by the booth as the rest of the girls enjoyed their night. 

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yourself a water, hoping it would soothe the ache in your chest. 

Downing half of it as soon as the bartender passed it to you, you turned, eyes once again finding purchase on your girlfriend subconsciously.

You watched as she danced with the Chelsea player unashamedly, almost proudly, as if she didn’t have a girlfriend to go home to at the end of the night.

Naive and infatuated, you had never bothered to consider the difference between private and secret back when the idea was suggested to you. Now? Now you utterly resented the distinction between the two words.

Feeling the hair on the back on your neck rising however, you blinked out of your thoughts, quickly zoning back into real life, scanning the room for the cause before ocean eyes met yours. 

Leah.

The blonde was finally looking right at you, the girl in front of her continuing to dance in close proximity, her eyes closed- too gone with the music, to notice her distracted partner.

Raising an eyebrow in silent question, you waited.

You waited for a reaction, an apologetic smile, a mouthed sorry. Something to show she realized how her actions were hurting you. Anything. 

You waited a second, then another, and then another. 

Instead you got nothing, a continued blank look shot your way as she continued looking at you, head tilted.

You were well aware you didn’t have to say much, nearly a year of being in a relationship, a little over two of living together meant she knew you- quite well too, if you had an opinion on the matter. 

In this moment though, it felt like not enough. 

All the memorized takeout orders, her awareness on how you liked your coffee, what your moods were and how to best comfort you in your lows- her knowing all of that didn’t matter if she couldn’t understand how absolutely heartbroken you felt right now, watching her keep away from you, dance with another body that wasn’t yours, marking a win that you both shared, but only one of you were celebrating.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t realize she was hurting you. 

Bringing your drink towards your chest, you ducked your forehead down, letting the cool glass bring you some reprieve to your growing headache, no doubt caused by heartache. 

Wanting nothing more than to leave, teammates be damned- this night was over for you long ago- you placed the glass back on the bar top, thanking the woman behind it once again before heading over to the team’s table.

Quickly grabbing your coat, confident that Leah could find her way home- not out of malice but with the staggering number of your shared friends, teammates, and rival players in the club- you bid adieu to Steph and Kim, the only two by the table, citing a tired body as your excuse. 

Exiting the stifling atmosphere and slipping into the cool air, you took a deep breath in, forcing your shoulders to relax in an attempt to convince yourself you were okay. 

Well aware that Leah’s eyes had followed you out, you committed the sound of only your footfalls in the late night into memory, eyes stinging, shaky breaths escaping you. 

Beginning the trek home, your apartment not too far, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 

~~~

It’s much, much, later when you hear the unmistakable jingle of Leah’s keys by your front door- three forty-three am to be exact. 

You weren’t surprised to hear her here. It was very much expected in fact, the blonde spending nearly all her days and nights here since quarantine started, not bothering to move out once you had made things official. 

Sighing at the fact that you hadn’t slept a wink since you had reached home, not for a lack of trying but for having to console your dejected heart, you internally groaned at the thought of dealing with a drunk Leah. 

Putting your grief aside for the time being and rising out of bed, you rubbed the tiredness out of your eyes and padded over to the kitchen just as Leah stumbled into the entry hallway in front of you. 

Taking in the sight before you, you sighed warily. 

The blonde looked absolutely disheveled- hair matted to her forehead but sticking out everywhere, heels in her hand, and exhaustion pouring out of her eyes.

Watching her stagger blindly towards the island, you quickly put an arm around her waist, leading her to sit on a barstool as you silently grabbed her some water.

Placing the glass in front of her, you turned, planning to head into your shared bedroom to get a set of clothes for the midfielder to change into when her groggy voice interrupted your actions, derailing your thoughts.

“You left early…”

The accusatory tone wasn’t lost on you, your defences immediately going up. 

Baffled at how it was your behaviour being questioned, you shook your head in shock. 

“I did,” you state matter-of-factly, turning to face her. 

You paused for a second, waiting to see what the blonde would say next, already on edge from the rollercoaster of emotions from today.

“Why?”

The question put you in a state of incredulity, your anger and hurt resurfacing.

“Why? You’re really asking me why?” Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked, given the time, but you didn’t pay much mind. 

“Leah, you spent the whole night getting cozy with another girl. The whole night! While I was there! And you’re asking me why I left early?”

“We were just dancing…it’s not like I was making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.” The slurred words combined with the eye-roll from the defender had you shaking your head. “It was completely platonic.”

You couldn’t believe this.

“You’re joking right? Or did you get a concussion mid-game that I don’t know about?” 

“Relax... just because you can’t go a few hours without me doesn’t mean I have to do the same.” 

The slurred words coupled with the nonchalant tone with which Leah expressed herself caused you to lose your breath for a second, mind baffled.

“Did you-,” collecting yourself for a second, you asked her, “…did you just call me clingy?”

Swallowing hard in the silence that followed, you felt your stomach sink.

“You’re really calling me clingy?” The shakiness in your voice made itself known, disbelief becoming apparent.

“It was friendly.” You watched as Leah turned her body away from you, choosing to rest her head on the cool countertop in order to find some relief from her probable headache.

“Was it? You want me to go fucking drape myself all over Millie the next we go out with the United team? Let me know if you feel ‘clingy’ then?” Voice rising more than quiet words once more, you took a step back, trying to put space between you and the other girl. 

“Oh come on it wasn’t that big of a deal…” 

You would have agreed it this hadn’t happened so often, so many times in the past- tonight being your tipping point.

There had already been multiple team events where the blonde stayed the furthest away from you, never bothering to celebrate your goals with you, avoiding any physical contact, almost as if it burned her to be near you. Hiding away any photos you took together, platonic or romantic, in her phone, them never once leaving her library. 

You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, really. 

Ignoring that she couldn’t see you, you shook your head at Leah. Clenching your jaw, you decided to forego taking care of the blonde like you had planned.

“Great, then neither will be you going to bed alone tonight,” you scoffed. 

You saw the midfielder immediately shoot up into a sitting position from her slumped state, eyes wide, body tense.

“We haven’t slept apart since the pandemic, you know that,” her timid voice echoed in the dark apartment.

It was true. You’d both had gotten lucky since and had even been paired up for the handful of times the team had stayed in a hotel, the only time spent apart being during international breaks.

“Well I feel like I was too clingy earlier so I wanna give you space now, since you so clearly crave that.”

“Babe…” 

Well aware that you were too upset to think rationally, you continued ignored Leah’s pleas. Turning on your heel, you started to make your way to grab your pillow and head to the guest room, choosing to kick yourself out rather than disturb the midfielder.

Hearing footfalls behind you, you shook your head as you continued on your path.

“Leah, go to bed. I’m sleeping alone and that’s final.” Your voice came out cold, almost stoic.

The blonde reached for your hand, fingertips barely skimming yours as you harshly pulled your arm to your chest, cradling it.

“Leah I fucking mean it.”

Shoulders dropping, the blonde dejectedly agreed, too out of it to protest again.

Hearing a lack of footsteps behind your own as you made your way across the hall, you shuddered as your heart sank deeper, the weight in your chest settling torturously.

Why did love hurt?

~~~

You didn’t know it but Leah’s miserable the next few days without you. She’s well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth far enough, dug her own grave, but she misses you terribly anyways. 

She misses your hugs in the morning and how you’d let her cuddle you as you cooked breakfast. She misses your kisses and the way you’d randomly just come sit with her during your free time. She misses you being around her, you always hyper, your energy infectious, always brightening her moods. She especially missed your mere presence, you now never spending more time than needed in the same room as her now, instead electing to leave for practice much earlier than needed, picking up takeout and eating in your room, doing anything and everything to ensure you both would never cross paths for longer than a handful of seconds. 

The distance between you had been so noticeable that it didn’t take the team long to catch on, the way you didn’t gravitate to Leah at every given chance during training a stark contrast to your regular shenanigans. 

It had gotten to the point where the team had even been too scared to ask you directly, your frustration clear enough on the pitch with how hard you trained, interactions with the rest of your teammates minimizing as well.

It’s why Beth and Lia had quietly confronted Leah, both uneasy at what had changed between you both. 

“You two okay? She keeps avoiding you at practice, and to be honest, it’s slightly worrisome…” Lia’s voice trailed off as her, Beth, and Leah made it back towards the locker rooms post-practice.

Taking a quick look over her shoulder, not finding you trailing behind, Leah faced the Swiss captain, voice dropping lower. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s just going through some personal stuff. She’ll be okay…”

The ‘I hope so’ went unsaid, but the way Leah’s pitch rose at the end of the statement had the two other player’s eyebrows raising in silent question, thoughts they both chose not to voice on the tip of their tongues.

Nodding in response, the trio continued their walk in silence, no one wanting to push too hard.

Unsaid or not, all three knew that nothing was fine, Leah more so than the others, and it scared her immensely. 

~~~

Stress clear on her face, Leah sprinted off the pitch after the game against Chelsea, chasing you down the tunnel before the rest of the team had even left the field. 

Catching up to your tired body, she grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction to a more secluded spot, uncaring of how drained you absolutely were.

Too tired from the past few days to refute, you let yourself be pulled.

When the blonde figured you two had made it far enough down the tunnel to talk without being heard, she quickly turned on her heel, stopping and looking at you, face screwed in displeasure. 

“What the fuck was that on the field today? Why were you so aggressive?! You got carded for fuck’s sake- you don’t get carded…ever!”

Sighing, barely scrounging up the energy for the conversation, you closed your eyes, pulling your arm away from her hold.

“I played the game. That’s what I did. Fouls are part of the game,” Your voice was rigid, no fight in you, not after how horribly you’d been sleeping as of late, the argument from nights ago not only affecting the blonde. 

“You played dangerously, that’s what you did! You were irresponsible, careless, and…and reckless! Not to mention selfish! Do you know how much of a difficult situation it would’ve been had you got a red? And with the way that referee was calling fouls, it’s a miracle you didn’t!” 

You could’ve gotten hurt. The words go unsaid.

By now the blonde was nearly yelling, face red from frustration.

Please just let me go.

Biting the inside of your cheek to stay calm, you sighed again.

“Game’s over either way. I didn’t get a red and we won…I don’t see a problem here.” Your voice curt, you made a move to step past the midfielder.

You didn’t get far however, the other girl’s hand coming to grasp your wrist to prevent you from stepping away any further. 

Stopping briefly in your tracks, you didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You couldn’t because if you did, she’d see the tears that were threatening to fall, heart exhausted. 

Instead, you shake your head, tugging your arm out of her grasp and bringing it to cautiously wipe away the few tears that had escaped. 

Watching your figure walk away, Leah’s face fell at your lack of care. 

Dejectedly, she followed you, a fair distance away. Making her own way to the change rooms with a flurry of thoughts in her head and an ache in her chest, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

She couldn’t even blame anyone but herself. 

~~~

Entering the locker room, Leah took a quick look around, the rest of the team nearly showered and changed out of their kits, save for you. 

Ignoring Lia and Katie’s questioning, the blonde walked over to her locker and began to get ready to shower.

Lucky that this was a home game, Leah knew she could take her time.

Taking a quick shower, she tried to casually wait for you to finish up- well aware that you were trying to drag out your own shower, hoping that you wouldn’t cross paths with your girlfriend (ex?- you didn’t really know.) 

The Gunner relented however, making up a lame excuse at Beth’s plea for her to join her on the walk out.

Patiently sitting, nearly alone in the locker room as she watched the rest of the girls file out, she waited. 

She waited as the patter of water ran longer than usual. 

She waited as she slowly heard it come to a stop, an eerie silence consuming the room.

She waited as you finally stepped out minutes later, wet hair tied in a messy but, club gear resting comfortably on your frame. 

She waited as you realized she was still here, eyes widening as a quiet fuck escaped your lips. 

Patience wearing thin now, she stood up, her own bag forgotten as she made her way to you. 

“Listen-“

You didn’t even let her finish though, instead cutting her off before another word could be said, your hand held between you to keep a distance. 

“Honestly? Save it.”

“No, but-“

Shaking your head, you slipped past her, beginning to quickly throw your dirty kit and toiletries into your kit bag.

Silence covered the room for a moment, only the noises of you angrily packing your kit bag to be heard. 

It didn’t last long however, timid words cutting through the tense atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry.”

You froze in your spot at your words, your sweaty jersey just barely dangling in your hands as you inhaled sharply.

Collecting yourself, you shook your head, Leah’s words meaning nothing to you. 

“Okay.”

The blunt, one word reply of yours hit Leah harder than she anticipated, this not at all how she was expecting this conversation to go.

Swallowing hard, she stepped around you, coming to a stop a short ways away, standing between the door and you. 

Wringing her hands nervously, Leah’s voice came out meek, eyes nearly downcast and heart pounding.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Laughing darkly at the other girl’s words, you stopped your movement again, turning around with your hands resting on your hips, a cold look in your eyes.

“What else do you want me to say?” Clenching your jaw, you gave Leah a blank look. 

“I-…”

Raising her eyes to meet you, the skipper straightened her back out, nerves rising as she took note of how rigid your posture was- how distant you were from her despite only being a few feet apart.

As you realized she wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to confront her on what had been on your mind throughout the second half of the game.

“You wanna explain what I heard at half-time? Because I’d really love to hear how you plan to spin this one on me this time…”

The deer-in-headlights look you got in return let you know she knew exactly what you were talking about.

At half time, just as the players were headed back in, a young fan had nearly begged Leah to sign her jersey. 

Never one to say no to a supporter of women’s soccer, much less of Arsenal and a young teen, Leah had quickly veered off, making small talk with the girl as she signed and posed for a photo.

Everything had been smooth sailing really, in fact, you watched the whole interaction with a smile on your face as you approached the tunnel.

Too bad good things never lasted.

Just as Leah had been ready to walk away from the stands, the young girl had innocently asked the question that had changed your whole mood.

The high pitched voice asking whether you and Leah were dating had easily carried over to you, repeating in your head since, a broken tape recorder you just couldn’t turn off.

What stuck with you however, was the Gunner’s response- the immediate scoff, zero hesitation or regret on her face as the words ‘absolutely not…she’s not my type’ escaped her. Words that were followed by a shrug and a cheeky grin that haunted you for the second half. 

You always had a feeling you weren’t good enough for her, your insecurity a topic of conversation for many nights in the past- nights where the blonde spent countless hours convincing and proving otherwise. 

Now though? Now it all felt like a lie- recollections of all those middle-of-the-night cuddles and hushed conversations making your heart heavy with the way her denial of your relationship came so quickly, so easily. 

Maybe this wasn’t meant to be, not as much you had wished it was.

Since the start of your relationship, when going out, whether it was with the team or just the two of you, Leah would distance herself from you, never sitting beside you even though she claimed you two were the bestest of friends. Choosing to be anybody else’s partner during media days. Hell, even going as far as standing on the opposite side to you during pre-match photos. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t twist the knife in your chest just a little bit more each time that it happened.

If you were honest, you didn’t know how much bigger you could let the gaping wound get, unsure of whether your heart could handle another twist.

It’s why your next words physically hurt you to say, your voice quiet, its echo ringing in your ears.

“if you’re really that embarrassed of me, maybe we shouldn’t even be together…”

A shiver runs through your spine as you continue to look at Leah.

The admission feels heavy, the bright lights of the room unable to lift the somber mood in the slightest.

You can see a shuddering breath wrack her body at your words, and you can feel the distance between you two growing, mere feet feeling like hundreds of metres, goosebumps rising as the room grows significantly colder.

The reply comes slow, but the intensity, the anger, the defence in her voice at the words nearly knocks you back.

“It’s not like that…” 

The words are emotion laced, Leah’s head tilted to the side as her eyes search your face for any indication of what’s on your mind.

“Really? Then what’s it like? Is it just going to be you denying our relationship till the end? Is it just going to be you getting cozy with another girl and calling me clingy and overreactive? Is it just going to be you claiming you’ve done nothing wrong? Telling Lia that I’m going through something?” 

Shaking your head, a wry smile crossed your face. “Don’t be surprised- at least Wally cared enough to make sure I was doing okay, y’know? Something you haven’t asked me once.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me near you…” The timid admission had you shaking your head, displeased with her response.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes closing as you tried to hold back your frustration, you spoke.

“Thats the issue Leah….you just don’t fucking know. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know how this relationship is going to work. You don’t know when you want to tell everyone we’re together. You don’t see how much it hurts me every time you deny that we are anything more than teammates, even friends! You just so happen to not know you’re breaking my heart each and every goddamn day!”

Chest heaving in frustration, you swallowed hard, you ears heating up in embarrassment of your outburst, eyes going everywhere but to the girl in front of you.

 It’s as you contemplate your next words that the blonde sees your anger turn to sadness, eyes dropping, shoulders sinking.

“You know what? I think- I think we’re done Leah.” 

Your voice was a whisper, the words strained, almost as if it cut you to say them.

“I can’t do this. I really can’t…”

“Wait no…”

You shook your head, barely any energy left in you. 

“How many times Leah? How many times are we gonna go back and forth like this? How long do I have to wait for you to get on the same page? It’s nearly been a year for fuck’s sake.”

Taking a deep breath, you grab your bag, your eyes firmly trained on the floor as you side step Leah and take off to your car, not once looking back.

If you had though, you would’ve seen the broken way the taller woman stood at the exit, eyes damp, body rigid in shock, fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to process what had just happened. 

Being snapped out of her daze at the slam of the door shutting by its own weight, the blonde came back to reality, the weight of your words finally sinking in. 

Swallowing hard as the alarm bells went off in her head, she turned on her heel, yanking the door open and running to follow you.

You are nowhere to be found though, she makes her way to the carpark, just to notice you pull out of your spot, not an ounce of hesitation in your actions. 

Hearing a pair of footsteps beside her though, ones that were most definitely not yours, Leah tensed at the thought of another person’s presence where you should be standing.

Glancing over to see Lia, the English captain tightened her jaw, closing her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to hide just how broken she felt right now. 

“She told me to give this to you- said something about having an issue to attend to…” The words came out quiet from Lia, your set of keys for Leah’s home in her hold, dangling in the space between the two national captains, nearly mockingly.

Voice dropping an octave, Lia decided she had enough of the wait, eyes growing in concern at her counterpart’s disheveled look.

“Leah what’s going on between you two? She seemed pretty upset leaving…”

Swallowing, the Gunner knew she had her chance to come clean, to finally admit to herself that she hurt you, more than she ever thought she would.

Instead though, she didn’t- the idea of saying out loud that you left her too unbearably painful to speak into existence.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged instead, schooling her own expression into a somewhat relaxed one, “we didn’t talk much in the locker room, she seemed pretty stressed in there.”

Raising her eyebrows, Lia didn’t seem to buy it but she didn’t push and Leah didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not.

Grabbing the keys firmly from the Swiss’ hold, Leah turned towards the locker rooms once more, this time not bothering to wipe her tears as they fell, glad for the lack of footsteps behind her. 

With no idea as to where you went or when you would be back, she had no option but to wait and hope it would be soon- soon enough that she could rectify her mistakes and make you hers again- the best thing she ever had, gone, just like that.

~

(read part ii here)

#not proofread sorry folks #not proud of this or how long it took but fuck it we ball #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #my writing #fic req #fic #hcie #angst #idk either man

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

#jrwi fanart #cw blood #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #arthur bennett #OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob: #BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay #i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY. #THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL #so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM.. #grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that #ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT #arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES #I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM. #I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no #ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE #BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much... #GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that #we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW #he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE.. #i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar #I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS #also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that #human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY #i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK #feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh

[roosterforme]

Ready, Rough and Unromantic | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley has a rough day at work, he knows the only thing that will make him feel better is his wife. But will you let him dominate you? Will you let him use you just how he needs to? He shouldn't have been surprised by your answer or your response to him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, rough smut, dominant smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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.

"I am so proud of you, Roo," you whispered, kissing his neck and zipping up his flight suit. It was early, the sun was just peeking through the bedroom curtains, but you were up helping him get ready for the first day of his duties.

Bradley would be spending the week as an assistant instructor at Top Gun. Few people would appreciate what an honor this was, but you understood it implicitly. You hadn't yet bothered to dress for the day, but you decided to wake up early to wish him luck. 

He ran his fingers along your soft skin, completely bare for him except for your glasses and wedding rings, as he said, "I always want to make you proud, Baby Girl."

When Bradley tipped his head down to kiss your cheek, you giggled. The sound went right to the part of his brain that controlled his unbridled desire for you. All he had to do was squeeze your bare hip with his big hand, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Do we have time?" you asked softly before you bit your lip.

He kind of shrugged and grunted, but you were already lowering the zipper of his flight suit all the way down. Bradley let you take the lead on this one, and when you dropped to your knees, he was not disappointed. 

The way you wrapped your pretty lips around his cock... yeah, there would always be time for that. "You're so fucking good," he groaned as you took him deep, and he hit the back of your throat. You sucked on him until you were gagging, then you pulled him out as a strand of your saliva dripped onto your tits.

"This is for good luck," you told him before you tilted your head and sucked on his balls until he was pulling on your hair a little rough.

"Oh," he groaned. "My wife doesn't mess around." His words were deep and gruff compared to the long, soft moans you made as your tongue swirled up the length of his cock. 

You kissed the tip of him, whispered, "I love you," and then you gave him absolutely filthy head until he was cumming all over you. Your hollowed cheeks and warm hands had him fucking your face until cum dripped out of the corners of your lips. And when he spurted onto your glasses a second later, your giggle returned.

Bradley loved the sight of it enough that he wanted to make a mess with you later on when he had more time. Coat your glasses up real good. Maybe help you lick them clean. 

"Fuck," he growled. "I need to leave, Sweetheart." Bradley pulled you to your feet and placed a soft slap to your ass. You kissed him hard one time, and he promised he'd take care of you later.

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

"Tally, tally!" called one of the younger recruits into the radio. But his teammate and wingman left him hanging long enough that Bradley got himself quickly into position. A few seconds later, Bradley got tone on him and eliminated him. 

He was feeling great, and when the team landed along with Bradley, he took some time to show them where they went wrong and how they could improve. "As soon as you hesitate, it's over," he informed them, knowing very well that he had learned that lesson himself not terribly long ago.

The recruits filed back inside for lunch while Bradley joined Maverick and the other teachers to go over the plans for the afternoon. Honestly, he was having a great day, and when he was told he'd be taking another team up in the afternoon, he was looking forward to it.

But he must have been distracted. Or maybe he was the one who hesitated this time. Because as soon as Bradley managed to fly the two seater Super Hornet into a corner, he heard tone lock onto his own aircraft. 

He had been outmaneuvered by a twenty five year old student. 

Bradley landed his aircraft in a state of shocked silence, barely managing to communicate with the tower. He was mortified. And of course, as soon as he walked into the tower, everyone knew about it. 

"It happens," Mav told him. "It was your first day instructing. You'll nail their asses to the wall tomorrow."

But Bradley could see the looks on the students' faces. He could practically hear Nat's voice through her text message.

Are you fucking kidding me, Rooster? They took you out?

He wasn't even sure how she heard about it from the simulation classroom. But seemingly everyone knew. It took everything inside him to keep his shoulders squared and his voice calm. Because inside he wanted to rage. He wanted back up in the air. He wanted to meticulously pick off every single other aircraft one at a time until he didn't feel like a joke anymore. 

And that made him feel like maybe he wasn't ready to be an instructor yet.

"Fuck," he growled, slamming his locker door closed later. Absolutely nobody messed with him in the locker room. Nobody would even look at him. He was surrounded by dead silence everywhere he went. 

As he stormed out to his Bronco, his skin was crawling with the burning need to prove himself. To dominate his surroundings. When he started up the engine, he took a few deep breaths that did nothing to calm the rising temperature of his humiliation. The blazing desire to conquer. Overpower. Defeat.

He needed to get home to you. Somehow he knew you were the only thing that would make him feel better.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was practically panting. You were already home from work. This was good. When he opened the front door, he called out, "Where are you?" His voice was raspy. His body was too hot. 

"In the kitchen, Roo!" you replied. "Come tell me all about your day!" 

You had taken your boots and socks off, but you were still in your uniform with your hair pulled back in a tight bun. And you were up on the kitchen counter changing the lightbulb that he had noticed kept flickering. This kind of shit was his job to take care of around the house. You shouldn't have to be up on the counter like this. 

But as soon as he really looked at you, his cock throbbed with need. You looked at him over your shoulder as you finished with the new bulb. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, slightly alarmed. You must have seen the look in his eyes. He had never looked at you like this before.

Bradley knew you could make him feel better. If you let him do it. If you'd let him take his day out on you. 

He snagged you off the counter and into his arms as you squealed, but you quickly gaped at him as he carried you to the bedroom. 

"Bradley?" you whispered, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and searching his face.

He tossed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, not bothering to remove his boots. You were silent, eyes wide and lips softly parted as he let you have his body weight. Your gaze was on his lips like you were expecting him to kiss you and be your sweet husband like he usually was.

"No," he growled, and your eyes darted up to his. You looked needy and uncertain. Bradley could tell you wanted to ask him what was going on. But then he read your last name on your nametag, annoyed that it didn't say Bradshaw yet. Very gently, he removed it, snapped it in half, and threw it across the room. Then he unbuttoned your shirt without a word and pushed it open wide. 

Your nipples were straining against your black lace bra. You were very subtly rubbing yourself up against his hard cock. Your pupils were dilated. You wanted to get fucked. 

"I hate your fucking name tag. Okay?" he asked, voice gruff as he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck. "I hate it."

You bit your lip and whispered, "You had a bad day."

"You told me you were going to get a new name tag," he grunted, pressing his hard cock against your thigh. "You said you submitted the paperwork for your name change."

"I did." Your voice was so needy. Bradley shoved his thumb into your mouth and watched as you opened wide and licked him.

"Get a new fucking name tag. And leave the light bulbs for me to change."

"I will," you said again with your mouth full of his thumb.

"Shut up," he growled, and your eyes went so wide as you moaned. "I'm not in the fucking mood. And I'm not going to be sweet. Not right now. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you cry. Use your pussy exactly how I want to."

You moaned around his thumb again. 

"Tell me that's what you want," he demanded. You nodded your head, and he withdrew his thumb. "Fucking say it."

"I want it." Your voice was breathy but sure, and Bradley was going to dominate you until your tears and whining made him feel better. Because there was always only you who could fix him.

He practically ripped open the front of your khaki uniform pants to get to you. Bradley yanked the fabric down your legs and sent your pants across the room to meet your broken name tag. Tiny, black lace panties cut low on your hips. He could see your tattoo. He could tell you were wet through the fabric. 

"You look like a little slut," he informed you. He watched you bite your lip as your back arched off the bed. "You shouldn't be this excited about being manhandled." Then the scrap of black lace met the same fate as your pants and the name tag.

Bradley had to commend you. You kept your mouth shut as he unzipped his flight suit, lowering the sleeves and pulling his cock free. You were silent as he rubbed himself through your wet slit. You didn't make a noise as he slowly slid himself inside your dripping wet pussy until he bottomed out. And only the softest sound escaped your lips as Bradley wrapped his big hands around your hips and lifted you slightly off the bed.

But you screamed when he held you in place, your ass in midair, and fucked you like you were his own personal toy. He slammed into your pussy with short, rough strokes. It was, in so many ways, the dirtiest thing he had ever done to you. And it felt to fucking good, Bradley could cum inside you right now. But your screams had him going harder, wanting to enjoy this feeling of control for as long as possible. 

"Louder," he told you. But he didn't really even need to say anything as he tightened his grip on your flesh and fucked you until tears leaked from your eyes. Your cries filled the room, so loud his ears were ringing from it. 

He withdrew from your body and let you fall to the bed. You were scrambling now, reaching for him. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes like you needed him to kiss you. 

He flipped you onto your belly before ramming his cock inside you again. Your hands were all balled up in the pillowcase as you cried out against the bedding. The rapid slap slap slapping noise of his body dominating yours was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard. The way you were letting him calm his nerves and soothe his ego, well if he hadn't already married you, he'd do it today. 

He palmed you softly before laying a solid smack right to the round of your ass. You moaned and sucked in a deep breath as he leaned down and put his lips next to your ear. "Tell me you want me to stop."

You shook your head and turned to look back at him, eyes red with tears. "Keep going," you hiccupped. "Please."

Bradley pushed your face back down into the pillow as you gasped and cried for him. He pumped his hips hard, grabbing at your thighs and your backside. Then he wrapped his forearm underneath you and pulled you up until you were on your knees for him. And how he had the perfect view of your body as you took him, full hilt, like a champ. You gorgeous pussy grabbed at him with each stroke, and Bradley spit on you where you were joined, making everything wetter.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked as you moaned and whimpered. "Huh? You actually fucking like this." He was so close as he spanked you just to feel you clench around him. "You fucking slut." 

He pressed his lips to your ear again and slipped his hand up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You were moaning and slobbering all over his hand, crying into the pillow. 

"You're perfect," Bradley growled as he filled you up with his cum. He fucked you with jerky strokes, pushing his load deeper and deeper until he guided you down flat on your belly with his hand on your ass. You were half crushed under his body weight, kitten licking his fingers when he realized he felt so good. So much calmer. You made everything better just like he knew you would.

But now he was slightly concerned that he had taken it too far, even with your permission. As he kissed along the back of your neck and ran his fingers softly up your arm, he whispered, "Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

Your voice was still a little watery with tears as you said, "I won't be able to walk tomorrow. And now I need to update my to-do list so I remember to order a new name tag. But that was hot. Do you feel better?"

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and buried his nose against your skin. He felt perfect. "So much better. Thank you." 

He helped you to your feet with the promise of a bubble bath. Then he assured you he could figure out how to make something for dinner. After he picked up all of the discarded clothing, he threw your name tag in the bathroom trash can while you sank down into the tub.

"I have an extra name tag in my office, you know," you told him with an eye roll and a smirk. 

"I know," he replied, bending to kiss your nose. "And I have an extra one in my locker. You can have it. We can match. It'll be cute." And now all he could think about was you wearing his last name on your khaki uniform every day. 

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

Okay, yes...okay, yep. That happened. Stay tuned for the upcoming (4th!) series with Roo and BG called Always Ever Only You! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[atinylittlepain]

i need joel x f! reader friends to lovers 😩🫶🏻

i took this and ran with it

Birds of a Feather

joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

joel has met his match, and though he's trying to keep things platonic, his brother has other plans for him.

warnings | 18+ smut, drunk tommy miller requires his own warning, angst, and a little fluff

wordcount: 4.1K

................................

Joel Miller has finally met his match, and he knows it. He had balked at it initially, when Tommy assigned him to patrol with some woman. But it wasn’t just some woman. Folks around town call her Sunshine, a running joke since she’s anything but. He didn’t know anyone could be more standoffish than him, but that first shift together, the steel in her stare and the tick of her jaw had thrown any of his ideas about her right out the window. Is it any wonder they became friends so fast?

He doesn’t like to talk much, she doesn’t either.

He has a dry sense of humor, but hers has to be even drier. 

She refuses to suffer fools, and he enjoys watching her put men in their place.

He’s slow to thaw toward people, and so is she, both of them melting in each other’s presence.

Where he’s from Texas, she’s from Tennessee, the remnants of their drawls twining up in easy conversation.

He likes a stiff glass of whiskey at the end of the day, and she’s always game to join him.

But maybe one of the things he likes best is that while he’s good at pool, she’s fucking great at it, and he doesn’t mind getting his ass handed to him on Friday nights at the bar, not when it’s her doing the handing.

“Are you asleep, Miller? Or are you really just that bad at pool?” Her grin flickers under the dim lights of the Tipsy Bison, and he knows that it’s a sight not many people get to see. She cocks her head to the side, spinning her cue stick lightly in her hand as she smirks at him.

“Easy, darlin, gonna make you eat those words one of these days.” She’s not Sunshine, not to him, he refuses to call her what everybody else does. She had confessed to him once, on a long patrol shift, that she hated the nickname, but was too proud to ever say anything about it. In turn, Joel had told her about how growing up, Tommy managed to get everyone at their highschool to start calling him “Skip,” something he hadn’t told anyone in close to thirty years. His residual embarrassment had been worth it to see her smile in that moment, and it was about then that Joel realized he had made a certified friend. Though everyone else seems convinced that something a little more is going on.

“Shit.” He completely scratches his next turn, sending the cue ball right into one of the pockets as she snickers.

“What was that about me eating my words?” He’s distracted, just a little, but who could blame him when she’s wearing a pair of cut-offs that should be illegal and a tank top that turns downright obscene when she leans over the table for her own turn. So maybe there is something a little more going on, but it’s one sided, he reckons, and he’s not about to fuck up the first friendship he’s cared about in years just because he’s thinking with his dick. But, apparently, that’s not the only thing he has to worry about.

“Well, howdy, if it ain’t Jackson’s favorite tag team, frick and frack.” Joel hasn’t seen Tommy this drunk in decades. The town council had been celebrating that night, though he’s not quite sure what. Regardless, Tommy is sloshed as he loops and arm over Joel’s shoulders, a lazy grin on his face as he looks between him and her.

“Joel, Sunshine. How are we this fine evening?” While she snorts at his slurred-out question, Joel is less than amused, shrugging his brother off of him with a huff.

“Touchy, touchy, big brother. What’s got your panties in a twist? Did you break his heart already, Sunshine?” Joel can feel his face blanch at Tommy’s drawling words, glancing between him and her. While she’s still smiling, the crease between her brows suggests she’s as thrown off as Joel is.

“What’re you on about, little Miller?” Tommy lets out a hoot of a laugh at her question, leaning up against the pool table and grinning at her.

“What I’m on about is the sweet little crush this big guy right here has on you. It ain’t healthy, really, Joel’s got it bad for you.” If they weren’t related by blood, Tommy wouldn’t have teeth in his head by now, but instead, Joel settles for letting his jaw all but drop to the floor as he looks between his giggling brother and her. She doesn’t look so amused anymore.

“It’s true! Ain’t seen his eyes get like that in a long time, those big ol’ puppy dogs of his are for you and you only, Sunshine.” Before the horror of it all can really settle in, Tommy sighs, slapping Joel on his shoulder and shuffling off with a low murmured “where’s Maria?”

Her eyes are wide when he finally looks at her, lips parted, complete bewilderment splashed across her face. And before she can say anything, Joel is turning heel and booking it out of there before everything comes crumbling down around him.

…

She’s stunned. By the whole thing really. Tommy’s ridiculous musings, the way that Joel didn’t deny any of it, and then the way he booked it out of the bar like he wanted nothing to do with her. She wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that her night was going to turn out like this. Not that she would tell anyone, but she loves Friday nights, pool nights, when she gets to spend just a little more time with Joel than usual. So for it to turn so sour so fast, she finds herself at a loss, clutching her cue stick in her hands, stuck standing where Joel left her.

There’s no two ways about it, she likes him. Things feel easy around him. She hadn’t met anyone else in town who she could talk to like she can him. He gets it, being on the road, not always having a warm place to sleep, what it means to kill. They’ve both seen a far different life than the one they’re living now, and talking to him makes her feel a little less crazy. And yes, maybe she also likes the strong cut of his jaw, the way his deep brown eyes crinkle up when she talks to him, the broad span of his shoulders, and how he squares them up when she challenges him. You could call it a crush, but she’d call it stupid, something that would only ruin the friendship, the one big good in her life, that she has with him. 

But now all bets are off. She’s got nothing to lose, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get the truth from him.

She knows him well enough by now to have a pretty good idea of where he stomped off to, and she doesn’t waste any more time standing around with a dumb look on her face, heading out of the bar and into the hazy light of the summer evening.

There’s a bench tucked away behind the stables, partially hidden by a small thicket of trees. A while ago, they had set it as their meeting place before patrol shifts, always getting there a few minutes early to set a plan for the day, or just to talk quietly before they had to head out. She had caught him there a few times on their days off too, an easy slump in his posture, his arms stretched out over the back of the bench. He told her he liked the quiet of it, and when she attempted to apologize for intruding, he had said that she couldn’t bother him if she even tried. It’s where she finds him now, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands, though his eyes jerk up when she clears her throat.

“We gonna talk about what just happened?” He lets out a long sigh, sitting back on the bench and squinting up at her.

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh, c’mon, Joel. You know I’m not gonna let this go, not until you talk to me.” With that, he gets up from the bench with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t have anything to say, except I’m sorry that my brother is such a fucking idiot.” She calls after him as he trudges away, but it’s no use, he doesn’t so much as look back over his shoulder at her. Knowing him as well as she does, she can easily tell when it’s time to stop prodding, when he’s shutting down and she won’t be able to get anything out of him, so she drops it, at least for now. 

She knows that they’re going to have to face whatever this is eventually, most likely the next morning when they’re set for a patrol shift together. With the hope of a clearer conversation on the horizon, she goes home, her mind still spinning from the strange evening. She lays awake in bed with her thoughts, the only conclusion she reaches being that she just wants the truth now, knowing that there will be no going back to the way things were, regardless of what he has to say.

When she gets to the bench the next morning, eyes bleary from a night without sleep, it becomes clear that Joel is going to make this more difficult than it has to be, as he is nowhere to be found. And he doesn’t show up either, not even when it’s time for their shift and she’s mounting up at the stables. She lets out a bitter laugh, though, when she sees who does show up.

“Did he send you down here?” Tommy huffs, leaning up against the door to the stables with a sheepish grin.

“Would you be less pissed at him if I said he didn’t?” 

“What? He ask for a new patrol partner already?” She knows it sounds harsh, but she doesn’t care, anger starting to feel like the appropriate response for how childish Joel seems to be acting. Tommy just sighs.

“Look, Sunshine, I feel awful for what I said last night. I was so fucking drunk I didn’t know up from down. But it’s true what I said. Reckon he thinks you hung the moon in the sky or some shit.” That makes her pause, but she stifles the kick of her heart with another scoff.

“What’s your point, Tommy? I have a shift to cover.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Huh?” Tommy lets out a breathy laugh at her furrowed look.

“I’m covering your shift– figure I owe you both for messing shit up so bad. I got a buddy of mine coming down in a few to patrol with me, but you’re off the hook. And I think you oughta go talk to him.” 

“Joel made it pretty clear last night that he didn’t have anything else to say.” Tommy’s frown deepens at her clipped words, and he takes a few steps into the stables, leveling a surprisingly serious look at her.

“My brother is a stubborn ass, I won’t deny that. He doesn’t really like people, or feelings for that matter. But I know him well enough to see that he’s different around you. And maybe it’s selfish of me to say this, but you’re good for him, and I’ll be damned if the only reason you two don’t wind up together is my big fucking mouth.” His words stun her silent long enough for him to step forward and place a hand on her shoulder.

“Just go talk to him, please? If anyone can get through to him it’s you.”

…

He has to admit to himself that he was hoping, just a little bit, that it’d be her knocking on his front door, his chest tightening when he sees that it is. Though she doesn’t seem all too pleased to be looking at him, her arms crossed over her chest and an edgy arch to her brow.

“We gonna talk like adults now? Or are you gonna keep sending little Miller to do your bidding?” He knows this tone of voice. It’s the way she speaks to people, usually men, that she’d rather not give the time of day to. He’s always been amused by it, the stiff jerk of her chin, the eerie calm of her words. But it’s never been directed at him before, and suddenly there’s nothing amusing about it. 

“I– yeah, yes. Let’s talk.” Real smooth, dumbass. She doesn’t wait for him to open the door any wider, brushing right past him and into his living room before turning on her heel to look at him.

“Well, there’s no real way around this, is there?” Her question hangs between them, a drooping thread threatening to snap, though even now, they still move comfortably around each other, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch and mirroring each other’s posture, elbows on thighs, heads tilted toward the other. 

“Where do you wanna start, darlin?” She huffs out a laugh, more like an exasperated sigh as she looks at him, the steel gone, only a quirked worry left in its place.

“The truth– I want you to tell me the truth, Joel– about what Tommy said last night.” He figures he’s got nothing to lose at this point. That either way, whether he’s straight with her or not, their friendship isn’t ever going to be the same, so he takes a deep breath, and lets the words come rushing out. 

“He wasn’t wrong– I mean, what he said? It’s true, I feel– I, uh– I like the way I feel? When I’m around you? And, um– Jesus christ, what I’m trying to say is– I feel very– fondly toward you.” He’d like to disappear now, to dissolve and slip down beneath the floorboards so she’ll stop smiling at him like he just made a complete fool of himself, because he did. 

“You feel fondly toward me, huh?” And now she’s making fun of him, a light laugh on her lips as he grumbles at her question. But she’s quick to catch his despairing spiral, scooting over and placing a hand on his knee. 

“I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to tease. But for the record, the feeling’s mutual.” Oh. He can feel his eyebrows shoot up at her words, and her grin broadens at his reaction.

“You mean– you– what’s that word? You mean platoni–” She’s kissing him. She’s kissing him and his brain is going blank but he doesn’t need to think, not really, moving like he knows, like he’s been waiting for this. She’s as stubborn as he is, and it shows in the way they struggle against each other, pulling on clothes to get closer, teeth clashing just a bit as she slips into his lap, pushing him back against the couch as he drags her as close as he can. When she does pull away, he doesn’t let her go far, his hand holding her steady by the hilt of her neck, breathless and smiling.

“No, I don’t mean platonically. Not at all.” And then she’s kissing him again, and it’s quickly becoming his favorite feeling, though the way her hips are pressed up against his is a close second. Joel is starting to realize that they share a few other things in common as well.

They both have a hard time keeping quiet, his low groans mixing and mingling with the pitchy sighs she looses in between kisses.

And they both seem to want to get impossibly closer, his nose mashing up against the slope of her cheek as she winds her arms over his shoulder blades, holding him chest to chest.

Where he tries to get the upper hand, licking into her mouth, squeezing at the swell of her thighs, she just does the same, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him just how she wants him as she ducks down to mouth at the arc of his neck.

Where he demands more, she’s happy to give, and to take in turn.

How they make it up the stairs and into his bedroom is beyond him, greedy hands peeling away clothes on the way up, leaving a trail of desire that they’ll have to trace later. 

She’s strong, just as strong as him, and she likes control, just as much as him, handily flipping them around on the bed so that she’s straddling him once again, leaving him wide-eyed and breathless at the sight of her. He’s got scars, and she does too, their hands running over the silvery marks, prayers that there won’t have to be anymore. Her bare cunt is a hot drag over his pelvis, and he’d like more than anything for her to shift her hips just a little lower, a little closer. But instead she ducks her head down, eyes flickering up to his as she lays a smear of kisses over his chest that begin to trail lower until she’s kneeling between his spread thighs. Joel thinks he just might die as he watches her spit into her hand before wrapping her palm around his throbbing cock, a hiss spilling between his teeth as she deftly sweeps her wrist up, her thumb swiping over his slit to smear the pooling pre-come there down his length.

“S’pretty, Joel. Prettier than I imagined.” He can’t help but groan at her words, scrunching his eyes shut and pressing his head back into the sheets.

“You– fuck– you thought about this, darlin? About me?” She smiles at his question, her lips just grazing the underside of him.

“Mmhmm, thought about you a lot. About this. We’re so alike, you and I. I couldn’t help but think that if anyone would be able to handle me, it’d be you.” And with that, she licks a salacious stripe up his length before taking him into the heat of her mouth.

“Christ– I  can– can handle you, darlin. Handle you however you want me to– fuck, that mouth of yours is a dream.” She hums at his praise, the vibration shooting straight down his cock as she bobs her head. It’s messy as hell, the slick sound of spit, her palm pressed flat against his stomach to hold him still, the drag of her tongue along his length, and the way her eyes stay on him, hooded and hazy under her lashes. 

“Thought about you too, y’know, like-like this.” His words make her stop for a moment, pulling off of him with a sigh, her hand picking up where she left off.

“And? Am I living up to your expectations?” Her words are lilted by her grin, and the sight of her lazily stroking his cock, her head tilted as she looks at him is nearly too obscene to be real.

“S’better– you’re so much better– fucking perfect.” It’s like he realizes all of a sudden how bad he wants to touch her, and then it’s all he wants, all he needs, coaxing her back up to meet in a kiss before rolling them over, swallowing the peel of laughter she lets out as he hovers over her. 

He wants to be the only one who gets her like this, the only one to hear her sighs, soft and melty in his sheets, sweet only for him as he swipes his fingers through her folds, dragging her pooling slick up to draw circles over her clit.

“So wet for me, darlin. S’just for me, huh?” Her chin jerks in a nod, whatever control she had now held in his hands, her hips canting up into his palm. 

“Just for you, Joel. All for you– please.” She doesn’t have to say anymore, he knows what she wants because it’s what he wants too. More. He presses two fingers inside of her, unable to stifle the groan he lets out at the feel of her cunt clenching around him, muffling the sound with a drag of kisses across her chest. She keens up into his touch, back arching when he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, tongue laving over the peak before letting his teeth just barely graze the delicate skin. And he learns her, all of her, the dips and swells of her body, the spot he can press against inside her that makes her brow crumple, the scrape of her nails down his back, the little whimpers she tries to silence, biting down on her lip, the way she tightens around his fingers when she’s close, and the broken sound of his name on her lips when she finally unravels for him, panting and twisting in pleasure. 

“That’s it, darlin. Feels good, huh? I did good for you?” Maybe it’s a little selfish, what he asks, but she’s happy to answer anyways.

“So good– did so good for me, Joel. Fuck, I really want you, baby.” He can feel the heat flushing up his face at her words, his mind going dizzy with the praise, and all he can do is give her what she wants, slotting his hips against hers and notching his leaking tip at her entrance. 

It’s unreal, it’s gotta be, the way she spreads open around him, close and pliant, her knee hitched up along his waist as he presses into her, both of them sighing at the stretch. For a moment, they’re still, just feeling each other, pressed so close, sweat-damp skin sticking from the contact, choppy exhales cooling down their shared heat. And then, Joel learns that they have something else in common. They both like their pleasure with just a tinge of pain.

It starts slow, the rock of his hips into hers, but she makes it clear with the press of her heel into his low back and her hand tugging in his hair that slow is the last thing she wants, and Joel is more than happy to oblige. The thump of the headboard against the wall, the slap of skin, harsh grunts and crackling moans twine around them, wrapping them up in a desperate symphony with each harsh grind of his hips against hers. 

He wants to leave marks, wants her to remember this when she runs her hands over the bruises he leaves, a purple and blue mosaic of where he touched her, where he wanted her most. And she seems intent on the same goal, nails scratching down his shuddering back, pulling him closer so she can mouth at his neck, her teeth nipping just a touch unkindly, making his eyes roll back from the sharp suggestion of pain. 

“Fuck, darlin– made just for me, huh? So good like this– wanna feel you like this– want you to gimme another one. Be so good for me, honey, c’mon.” 

…

All she wants is him. The hot drag of his cock inside her, his hips mashing up against hers, the heavy grip of his hand cupping her ass, pulling her hips up to meet his. His scruff, scraping against her chest, lips a smudge against her skin, each grunt a vibration that runs through her bones. The way he keeps her head from hitting the headboard with his forearm protectively curled there, holding himself up just enough to move his hips against hers, to look at her when she comes for a second time, spasming around him.

She feels like liquid beneath him, undone by pleasure, only vaguely aware of the breathy chant of please, please leaving her lips with each exhale. But he knows what she’s asking for, and Joel gives it to her, pulling out with a groan, his spend smearing across her heaving stomach as he pants over her. He flops down onto his stomach next to her with a sigh, one arm slung heavy over her waist, turned on his cheek to look at her. 

“Get you cleaned up in a minute– just need to not move right now– shit.” She has to laugh at his breathless exclamation, catching the crook of his grin out of the corner of her eye before turning onto her side to get a better look at him. Hair wild, sticking up all which ways, and cheeks flushed under his altogether boyish smile, she can’t help but lean in for a kiss that he gives up willingly to her. 

“Remind me again why we waited so long to do that?” That makes him laugh, squeezing her hip to pull her closer as he turns onto his side

“Because I was an idiot.” She hums at his answer, brushing his hair back out of his face before letting her palm settle along his scruff.

“It takes two, we were both idiots.” 

“Some pair we make, huh, darlin?” 

Some pair indeed.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 3

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Part 2 here // Part 4 here

Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective

A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!

Negan’s POV: 

I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name. 

I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck. 

I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck. 

"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon. 

Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation. 

“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.” 

“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”  

Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.

I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."

Your POV, earlier that day: 

“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...

Care about… again. 

“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me. 

“Yes, understood.” 

The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge. 

So why did I want to save him?

“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”

Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Some people deserve it.”

“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”

“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled. 

“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”  

“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?” 

I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others. 

“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead. 

I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months. 

“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.

“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”

Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this. 

Of course not. Surrender, goddammit. 

I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear. 

The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.

I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.

“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.

“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”

He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.  

“You never came. I waited on you all night.” 

My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice. 

“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.

“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”

When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.

How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him. 

“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?” 

With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him. 

“Negan..” 

“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down. 

I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”

His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine. 

“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”

“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.

"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."

"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"

"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."

"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."

"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."

Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."

I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.

"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."

"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."

I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.

Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.

We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.

"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."

What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."

Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.

Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗

tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174

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[doumadono]

for sinful sunday: can we have dabi with his cock sucked?

SINFUL SUNDAY

Your left thigh draped over Dabi's lap as you were engaging in a passionate kiss.

Dabi's hands roamed along your spine, tousling the fabric of your blouse, descending to firmly grasp your buttocks, pulling you closer into his embrace.

Your hands traced along the sides of his face, your tongue exploring every inch of his lips, tongue, and mouth. Straddling him on the seat, your skirt rode higher up your thighs as you pressed your groin into his. Dabi skillfully tugged the blouse from your skirt, and his vainy hands vanished beneath the silk.

His impatience surged, leading him to tear the last few buttons of your blouse apart, exposing your stomach. His hand traced a path from your throat, between your breasts, down to your skirt. Continuing, his fingers reached the hem, pushing it up toward your waist. Delving between your thighs, his hand massaged your mound, eliciting a groan from you.

You sat back up, lifting your skirt even higher, providing him with better access, moaning quietly for him. "Dabi, yes…"

After a few moments of fingering your pussy with his long digits, Dabi gently lifted your body from his lap, laying you along the couch. "Let those thighs fall apart, sweetheart. I want to see your tiny pussy."

You complied, allowing your thighs to fall apart, resting your heels on his lap.

Dabi's eyes fixated on the sight of your dark underwear. "Lick your lips, baby. Show me what you want."

You licked your lips, moving the thong to one side, presenting yourself to him. "All I want is you, Dabi."

"Run that finger along those slick pussy lips. Let me see how wet you are, doll," he instructed.

You ran a forefinger along your slick pussy lips, expressing your excitement.

Bending down, Dabi spoke huskily, "Let me taste you, gorgeous," as he replaced your finger with his tongue after bending down a little.

You leaned back, biting your lower lip.

Moving with a rhythmic flow, Dabi's head bobbed up and down, and your hips synchronously rose and fell to match his rhythm. His right hand slowly traversed the back of your thigh, searching for the cleft between your buttocks, eventually sliding a moistened finger into your anus as he kept on eating your pussy out.

"Fuck," you whimpered, biting on one of your knuckles.

Your delighted squeal filled the air, and you eagerly pushed your pussy up into his face, your hands tightly entwined in his black, spiky hair. After releasing his hair, you raked your nails along his back.

In a bold move, you leaned forward, deftly reaching for his fly. Skillfully unzipping it, you drew out his impressive cock. It was sizable, and impressively thick. Gently pulling back his foreskin, it revealed his proud, purple, and engorged glans. Bending over, you took him into your mouth, skillfully licking and flicking your tongue until Dabi groaned with pleasure. His hands now firmly laced into your hair, urging your head lower, driving his cock into the back of your throat. "Fuck, yeah, just like that, little bitch."

Your head bobbed up and down, the pace steadily increasing. Despite the intensity, you persevered. After a moment, you descended on him once more, taking his entire shaft into your mouth, bobbing your head rapidly, giving your best effort to deepthroat him.

"Yeah, just like that," Dabi encouraged as you grabbed his balls, gently squeezing them between your fingers.

Finally, your head rose, akin to a deep-sea diver breaking the surface. You gasped for ragged breaths through your slightly parted lips, a trickle of saliva running from the corner of your mouth.

Dabi sat there, his rigid cock protruding from his trousers.

You stood up, raised your skirt above your waist, and slid your thong over your hips, letting it fall to the floor.

Dabi turned, resuming a normal sitting position, and you climbed onto his lap. Guiding his cock into you, you slid down its length slowly, relishing every inch. When he was fully inside, you rested there for a few seconds, dipping your hips and feeling his hardness against your cervix. Finally, the tension became too much for you, and you lifted your pelvis until he was only just inside your lips. Then you drove down hard, groaning as he thrust upwards, matching your descent. The motion was repeated, again and again, slowly at first, but increasing in speed until you were bouncing in his lap.

Both of you were within seconds of cumming when you lifted yourself completely off of Dabi, falling to the side of the couch.

Dabi lifted himself onto his knees and pumped his cock several times. His orgasm came in an explosive ejaculation that sprayed over your breasts and throat. "Fuck, yes! So fucking good, you're so fucking hot, little cunt."

As the last dregs fell onto your perfect skin, you brought yourself to your own orgasm, your fingers forced into your pussy. "Dabi!"

He sat back, a grin playing over his lips. He tossed you a tissue, almost indifferently, and you wiped yourself down. Dabi zipped himself back into his jeans, while you fastened your blouse, replaced your underwear and straightened your skirt.

"I love fucking with you, little one," Dabi grinned, lighting a cigarette with his index finger and a little blue flame flickering on its tip.

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥 #sinful sunday #anime smut #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #bnha x reader #dabi smut #dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha x reader #mha smut #todoroki toya x reader #x reader smut #mha dabi #bnha smut #touya todoroki x reader #dabi mha

[spid3rpunksimp]

Hobie brown x fem! reader

Masterlist

Morning wood (SMUT if you don't get the hint)

As your eyes fluttered open to the sight of daylight, you felt the grip that went across your abdomen tighten as you were pulled into a tighter hug from your boyfriend.

Suddenly, your eyes popped open and a small smirk stretched across your mouth as you heard Hobie let out a slight grunt as his hard dick hit your ass through his boxers. You moved your eyes into his direction, without moving your head.

"Hobie, hun." you said as you heard a simple "Hm?" come back to you in response as you pulled away slightly and turned around, facing him. "You struggling?" you said, the smirk across your face widening into a smile as his half lidded eyes looked at you, seemingly proud.

Letting out a smile himself he responded with a simple, "Mmhm." as he lead over and begun to attack your lips and neck with his lust filled kisses, needy for you. You felt your panties grow wetter and wetter as your heavy breaths became moans. "hobie." you whispered as he released himself and looked down at you as he straddled your, now, fully awake form. "Yes, love?" he said, as he ran his hands up the oversize shirt you wore, no bra underneath. (Its 100% his shirt just so you know)

"Please." you said, as you gave him needy eyes, as he pulled the shirt off of your body, grabbing your breasts and lightly squeezing them while letting out a shaky breath. " Don't have to ask me twice!" he said as he bent down in one swift movement and began to suck onto your nipple, his tongue moving in circles and sucking so perfectly, making you moan loudly as he bit down onto it, pulling up a little before releasing your nipple from his mouth as you let out a moan from how FUCKING HOT HIS MAN IS! (sorry had to let that out)

He then went down back onto your neck as he began to suck and nibble on your neck, making you moan loudly as he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing circles over it. His fingers were magical. He knew exactly where to push to make you go wild as the pace he placed over your swollen cit increased. "Doing so good for me." he said as he released to move to the other side of your neck, your moans becoming louder and louder as his fingers put you clenched over nothing, needing him inside of you. "H-hobie. Please, I-" you said as you let out moans at every suck and every figure eight he made with his slim fingers. Releasing himself from your neck, he sped up his movements over your clit as you felt a hot ball begin to build in the bottom of your stomach. "Use your words. What do you want?" he said as his cock twitched in his boxers, begging to be let out and fuck you.

"Please. I need you in me-" you said as you let out a loud moan, arcing your back as you rode out the orgasm Hobie had you in. "If you insist." he said and without missing a beat pulled down his boxers and your panties. He placed himself as your entrance as he slowly slipped himself in, not being too hard for him because of how wet you already were. His long, hard cock filling you up more and more as your mouth opened, nothing coming out except for a quite moan. "You ready, love?" he said as he leaned over, looking into your eyes. You simply shook your head yes in response.

At soon as you did the pace he started at was toe curing as you heard the slaps coming from his hips hitting yours. You moaned loudly as more and more of them filed the rooms along with his own grunts and moans, you felt as he pulled in and out of you, hitting spots that only he had before. You felt his cock twitching inside of you as he grunted. He then pulled entirely out of you, slamming back into moments later causing you to orgasm to that moment. Hobie kept going, as you felt the ball returned once again without a warning. "H-H-HOBIE! FUUUUUUCK!" you yelled as he pounded into you, not caring if the neighbors heard as he moaned into your ear, telling you how good you were to him and how much he loved you. How you took him so well as you went up to cloud nine, feeling like you'd never come down.

As his hips began to shutter and his thrusts became more and more sloppy you knew he was getting close to releasing. You felt the ball inside your stomach release once more as the final snap of his hips caused him to come inside of you as his sead filled you up.

Hobie fell onto the bed next to you, pulling you into a hug as he whispered how good you were for him and how gorgeous you were. You couldn't tell though as you felt yourself relaxing into his hands, feeling tiredness fall over you once again as you two fell asleep once again.

#atsv #atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #hobie smut #hobie brown fic #hobie my beloved #spiderpunk #hobart brown #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderpunk x reader #into the spider verse #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x y/n #spiderpunk x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x female reader #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x y/n

[ancient-and-gauntly]

Corridor Waltz

Sebastian x F! Reader Warnings: Just some post argument fluff and light discussion, nothing big, female reader clear Summary: After Sebastian is too stubborn to ask you to the Yule Ball and finds out who you went with instead and argue, the two of you find yourselves at a crossroad in the corridors.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” You break the silence,smoothing out the skirt of your dress carefully. “You just didn’t ask me, and I didn’t want to go alone so-”

“So you ask Leander-Fucking-Prewitt? The top idiot himself?” Sebastian repeats himself harshly. “I wanted to ask you but with everything going on I-I forgot and,” He trails off, sighing in defeat. “I'm sorry, Y/N. Its all my fault. Yet another big thing ruined by my stupid pride. Sebastian paced anxiously in the dimly lit corridor of Hogwarts, the shadows flickering as the torches cast dancing silhouettes on the cold stone walls. The air was thick with tension, as your argument slowly dissipates and begins to make room for regrets

You stood a few feet away, back turned to him and posture tense. The echoes of your heated words still reverberated in the quiet corridor. He had been too proud to ask you to the Yule Ball, convinced that you would reject him, and you had been equally stubborn in not extending an invitation yourself. The weight of unspoken feelings hung heavily in the air, a palpable force that pushed you two apart even as your hearts pulled you together.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Sebastian took a deep breath and approached you slowly. He reached out, his fingers gently grazing your arm. You tensed slightly at his touch, but he persisted, turning you to face him. Your eyes were stormy, a mixture of hurt and confusion. Sebastian couldn't stand to see you like this.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice breaking the silence. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I just... I didn't know how to ask you."

Your eyes searched his, looking for sincerity. Slowly, you nodded, acknowledging the apology. “I forgive you, Seb.” You respond, wiping another small tear from your cheek. “But we can’t keep doing this to each other. We-we have to finally draw that line in the sand as to what this- what we are.”

Sebastian took a step closer, cupping you face in his hands. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. There, in the flickering light of the torches, he saw vulnerability in your eyes, a reflection of his own thoughts and feelings swirling in them. Leaning in he pressed a soft, apologetic kiss to your lips. It was a gentle touch, a silent plea for understanding. The tension gives way to a bittersweet mixture of longing and forgiveness.

Sebastian pulled away, his eyes locked with yours. "Can I have this next dance right here?" he asked, his voice low and earnest. “Well, what I am assuming is another dance.” He adds, half chuckling.”’S’hard to tell, with the way this orchestra plays.”

You looked at him in shock and confusion. “Right here? In the corridor?”

“Of course.” he replied softly, tucking a strand of hand behind your ear. He sighs as you slowly return his smile and nods. Sebastian took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. With his other hand on your waist, he guided you into a simple dance. “Wait I-” you attempt to not trip. “I’m not a very good dancer.” You try to explain shyly, but he just chuckles.

“Then here,”Sebastian smiled and gently pulled you feet to stand on top of his.”Now you don’t have to worry about it, and I don’t have to bend so far down to do this.” He pecks your lips softly once again

The two of you swayed together in the corridor, the torchlight casting a warm glow on your faces. Sebastian held you close, foreheads pressed together. The world outside the corridor ceased to exist, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, caught in the quiet magic of the dance.

“Sebastian,” You whisper, breaking the uncertain silence. “Why did you wait so long to ask?” 

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship," Sebastian admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I was scared, Y/N. Scared that if I asked you to the ball or to even hogsmeade for a drink alone, it would change everything."

“But not asking me changed everything too," You replied, your voice a mixture of sadness and understanding. "We've been avoiding this for too long, Seb."

He nodded, his grip on your waist tightening softly. "I know. I just... I didn't want to risk losing you."

You sighed, resting your head against his shoulder. "You won't lose me, Sebastian. After everything we have been through, you think asking me to a dance would ruin it? I care about you too much for that."

Sebastian smiled, relief washing over him. "I care about you too, Y/N. More than I've been willing to admit."

As the two of you continued to dance, the tension between you slowly dissipated. Your hand found its way to Sebastian's shoulder, and you continued to softly sway together. "So, what happens next?" you finally asked, your voice a gentle curiosity.

Sebastian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked down at you. "Well," he began, his tone teasing, "first, we'll pack our bags, run away together, and have grand adventures across the world. Then, we'll get married in a magical ceremony under the stars, surrounded by unicorns and enchanted flowers."

You rolled your eyes playfully, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, really? Unicorns and enchanted flowers?"

Sebastian chuckled, pulling you even closer. "Absolutely. And we'll spend our days exploring hidden corners of the world, having thrilling escapades, and, of course, dancing in torchlit corridors."

“Oh really?,” You couldn't help but laugh at the whimsical picture he painted. "You have quite the imagination, Sebastian Sallow."

He grinned, his eyes filled with warmth. "Well, I figure if we're going to dream, we might as well dream big. But if that's too much, I guess we can start with the basics, like you being my girlfriend."

You smiled."Now that sounds more realistic."

"For now... Future Mrs. Sebastian Sallow." He teases, pecking your lips once more.

“What have I allowed to happen?” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his once again.

He laughed, the sound echoing in the corridor and causing your heart to skip a beat. "Just planting the seed for the future, darling. You know, for when you can't resist my charm any longer."

You shook your head, a playful glint in her eyes. "We'll see about that, Mr. Sallow."

“I can’t wait.”

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x f!reader #sebastian sallow fluff #the yule ball #hogwarts legacy

[roosterforme]

Earning His Rank | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knew you wanted to make his promotion night special for him as he got his new pin. He could tell by the teasing way you asked "What are you going to do to me when we get home, Lieutenant Commander?" He had something in mind.

Warnings: Smut, fluff and swearing

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Written for a request! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," you murmured against his lips for probably the hundredth time tonight. "I'm so proud of you." 

There was no doubt in his mind that you were teasing him. Bradley responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, his hands meeting your bare skin. You were wearing a backless red gown with a high slit up your leg, but he still managed to only touch you in the most loving and respectful ways. Which was surely something you found annoying at the moment. His fingers stayed on your elbows, waist and hands only. And he kept his eyes above your tits as much as he could.

You, on the other hand, were getting a little grabby as the evening's banquet wore on. An extra brush of your fingers here and there turned into Bradley noticing he had a few buttons open on his uniform jacket that shouldn't have been. When you sat down next to him, your hand was higher on his thigh than it ought to have been. Your red lips were grazing his neck with a lot more frequency, and you kept touching his hat. 

You were needy for him in his dress whites, and he fucking loved it. 

As you sat and sipped some champagne, you eased your hand higher and higher on his thigh with the most innocent expression on your face. He was a little afraid your behavior would further deteriorate as the night wore on, and it was barely time for dessert.

"You almost ready to head home?" he asked softly, and your head snapped to face him.

Bradley tried not to laugh as your red lips parted in delight. "You already have your sexy, new pin. Let's go now." You popped up out of your seat and started saying goodbye to everyone else at the table. Bradley paused to shake hands and accept hugs, knowing you were just inches away from him with peaked nipples and an expression of unfulfilled lust on your pretty face. So he took his time, made his farewells linger, just to tease you back a bit.

"Lieutenant Commander," you whined softly, and the sound of your voice bathed in desire went right to his cock. "I'm getting really tired. Let's have dessert at home."

You weren't getting tired. Bradley was certain you'd have him up all night. You were just trying to get him to move faster so he'd take you to bed. And as Admiral Simpson glanced at you while you pouted your red lips up at Bradley and jutted your tits out in the most desirable way, he knew you had won.

"Let's go," Bradley growled, and your face instantly changed to a giddy smile. He ushered you away from the admirals with his big hand planted on the middle of your back. "You're really getting to be a handful, aren't you."

You scoffed at his words. "You knew exactly what you signed up for."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed. "A needy, cock drunk little angel." He let his hand drift down to cup your perfect ass once he had you out in the deserted lobby. Your unholy moan had him opening the Uber app while he guided you outside into the humid night air. 

"How long until it arrives?" you asked, tipping his white uniform hat back on his head a little bit.

"Two minutes," he replied, and you had his pants unzipped and your hand inside his underwear right away. "Oh, fuck!"

You and he were next to the venue building, tucked back in the shadows, but there were still a number of pedestrians out tonight. When your smaller hand cupped his balls softly while you looked up at him and said, "I love you," he let you keep going. 

"I love you, too," he replied, kissing your forehead gently as you dragged your manicured nails back behind his balls until he was groaning. 

"What are you going to do to me when we get home, Lieutenant Commander?"

Bradley could come up with dozens of ideas for how he'd like to celebrate in bed with you tonight. But you were being so naughty right now, and he knew exactly what he wanted from you.

"Ride's here," he grunted a moment later, and you ran your fingers along the underside of his hard cock one last time before turning and strolling toward the car. He was left to struggle with the zipper before sliding onto the seat next to you with his very obvious erection.

As the car pulled away, you leaned closer so you could whisper in Bradley's ear. "Tell me. What do you want?"

He took your hand in his, pressing soft kisses to your palm and knuckles. "I'm going to put my mouth all over your pussy."

"Tell me more," you whispered, pushing his hand down until it was tucked neatly inside the slit of your dress and between your warm thighs.

Bradley cleared his throat and spoke at a normal volume, making sure you knew he didn't care if the driver heard. "I won't stop. I'll keep going, even after you're done. Even if you beg. I will not stop until I want to. How does that sound?" He squeezed your thigh and slid his index finger along your slit, feeling that you were already wet. 

"Sounds perfect," you gasped as the car stopped in front of the house. He took your hand, helping you out of the car as you started grabbing for him again. "Please, please, please keep your uniform on? I want to feel the fabric and the metallic pins against my skin."

Bradley groaned softly as he scooped you up and carried you inside. You knocked his hat askew but then straightened it out as he took you to bed. When he flipped on the bedside lamp, there you were, and everything was red as you lounged on your back. Your red lips were parted, your red heels were up in the air, and your red dress was bunched up around your thighs.

When you spread your legs, keeping your feet up in the air, Bradley was delighted to see your wet pussy bare for his use. He was going to make you cry if he could. He wanted to smell you. He wanted to smell like you.

When you started to reach for the tiny strap on your shoulder, he shook his head. "You're keeping that on," he grunted. "You look too perfect." He watched you squirm, your eyes wide and your breath already short as he settled himself between your legs. He circled his hands around your ankles and kissed along the pretty, dainty bones, tasting your skin as you spread your thighs open further for him.

"Lieutenant Commander," you whispered, and he knew you were going to be a handful forever. He let both hands slide to the backs on your knees as he kissed along one leg and then the other, teasing your pristine skin with his mustache. "Sir?" you gasped.

He met your eyes and grinned as you reached for the front of his white pants, but instead he settled down with his face just inches from your core. He inhaled your scent and leaned on his elbows, hands up your dress and caressing your hips. "This is how I wanted to touch you all night while you were teasing me."

You bit down on your plush, red lip with your teeth and watched as he lowered his mouth to your slit, placing the softest kiss there. You smelled heavenly, and he knew you were going to taste even better when you were dripping from his face. He licked gently along your slit with just a little bit of pressure, not quite spreading you open yet. You already sounded desperate for him, and his cock swelled along with his ego. 

"Lieutenant Commanders are such teases," you whined, trying to thrust your pussy up against his face, but he held you tight. 

"You always tease me," he replied, running his nose through your sparse hair and kissing the apex of your thigh. "Now it's my turn."

Then he pressed his tongue against your opening before sucking kisses all the way up to your clit. He pushed your thighs back, and your legs bent until he felt your high heels come to rest on his shoulders. He pushed your dress up and kissed along your belly, taking time to rub his smooth pins and rough uniform against your spread open pussy until your hands were scrambling in the bedding.

"So good, so good," you whispered, rubbing yourself along his uniform buttons. Bradley nipped at your tits through the thin fabric that was covering them while your head tipped to the side in pleasure. And then he pulled back abruptly, loving the outraged gasp you made. 

But as soon as he buried his face in your pussy, your gasps turned satisfied once more. He loved this, so he took his time, licking leisurely stripes up and back down. When you started to grind softly against his nose on your clit, Bradley encouraged you with his big hands on your hips. "I think they should promote you again," you whined. "Is there a champion pussy eater rank? Isn't that the next one?"

Bradley chucked before he took your clit between his lips. Yeah, that was enough to keep you quiet. Or at least change your sassy words to incoherent moans. He worked his tongue in rapid movements while he sucked on you, and your back started to arch off the bed as you grabbed at his hat. 

He released you, and you keened loudly with need while his hat rolled to rest on your belly. "Please?" The syllable was long and drawn out, and Bradley nodded, knowing you were dying to cum. He licked you from one pretty hole to the other and all the way up to your clit over and over again until everything was soaked from you. "Please."

He took your clit between his lips again, prickling your soft skin with his mustache while he sucked and licked until your hands were tight in his hair and you were riding his face. With a loud whine, you came, and Bradley kept licking you everywhere. 

"You're soaking," he whispered, your fingers limp in his hair. "Just for me." And then he went rougher, getting his moustache wet and sucking on you everywhere. "You taste so good."

"Bradley." Your voice was tiny now as you covered your face with your hands. He could feel your right leg shaking as he pulled your still swollen clit between his lips, sucking until he let you pop free. Over and over again. He moved his right hand down to ease two fingers inside you, hooking them forward to prop you up a bit, making you groan loudly. Then he worked on your clit until you were hiccupping and begging him to stop. But the light roll of your hips as you fucked his fingers deeper told him there was still some pleasure there for you.

"Not yet," he scolded softly, finger fucking you and grinding his cock against the bed. He was getting closer as your leg drifted down his arm and came to rest on the bed. He was still moving his tongue in quick, purposeful strokes, getting everything he wanted out of you right now. All the little sounds you were making and the way you were going limp had him grinning. You looked so pretty like this as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. "God, I love you."

He fucked you hard with his fingers, watching your tits bounce in your dress until his whole hand was covered in you. Then he knelt and worked his zipper down quickly, using his hand with your silky wetness to jerk himself off. You watched with the softest smile on your lips and tears in your eyes as he grunted and came all over your pussy, belly and red dress. His cum looked like a pretty adornment on the fabric as you eased your leg back up to his shoulder and teased the back of his neck with your heel. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you guided him closer with your legs. He kissed your cheeks and your lips, and you started running your tongue through his mustache with a soft whimper. 

"Congratulations, sir," you finally whispered after cleaning up his facial hair. You kissed his nose as he eased himself back to see that your dress and his uniform were a mess. 

Bradley grunted as he started to unbutton his uniform jacket, and you tucked his oversized hat on your own head. "What exactly are you congratulating me for now, Mrs. Bradshaw?"

You smiled so sweetly. "For being awarded Champion Pussy Eater rank by your wife. I'll get you another pin for your uniform."

He ran his fingers along your slit until you were whining for him again. "I'll wear it with pride."

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

He earned two promotions! What a man! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshawx #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

[petals2fish]

Toe Rag (Affectionately)

Read on A03

"Did you see Lily delivering a swift kick to Arnold Palmer’s balls in divination this morning?" Sirius inquired, dropping onto the bench beside James in the grand hall during lunch. "Fucking metal."

Peter and Remus glanced up from their seats across the table, mouths full, sporting amusing grins. Remus hastily swallowed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he enthusiastically nodded.

"I'm surprised she hasn't landed herself in detention by now," Remus remarked. "Palmer was on the ground, in tears."

"Any idea what Palmer said to provoke her?" Sirius questioned, loading his plate with meat pies.

"It doesn't matter what he said to her," James replied, rolling his eyes. "He probably had it coming."

"You'd defend her even if she kicked you in the balls," Peter chuckled, prompting Sirius and Remus to conceal their knowing grins behind their food.

"I'm a strong supporter of women's rights," James hastily defended himself, "including Lily's right to beat the shit out of anyone who irritates her."

Remus's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Then how do you manage to escape Lily’s wrath? You irritate her everyday."

James feigned disgust. "Moony, how dare you. I am her favorite person."

Sirius stared at James as though he had sprouted two heads. "She called you a ‘toe rag’ yesterday at dinner."

"Yeah, but lovingly," James retorted.

"I've never heard anyone called a 'toe rag' lovingly," Remus raised an eyebrow at James.

"Hey, guys," Lily interjected herself between Sirius and James, planting a kiss on James' cheek. James raised himself a bit higher in his chair, sporting a proud smirk in response.

Lily rolled her eyes at his reaction and remarked, "Eat your food, toe rag." Despite her words, a smile betrayed the affection in the term, causing the other boys to reconsider their earlier remarks.

"Do you have detention tonight?" James inquired of Lily.

"No," Lily replied as she buttered a scone, "Palmer was convinced to accept his punishment without snitching on me to the Professor."

"What did he say?" Peter asked, his curiosity evident.

Lily’s green eyes glowed with exasperation as she explained, “he said the tea leaves told him that I should show him my tits.”

All four boys erupted in outrage, drawing confused looks from those around them. Lily shushed them all, laughing at their indignant reactions. James couldn't fathom why she remained so composed; he was ready to seek out Palmer and transform him into a slug.

Lily likely noticed the fiery determination in his eyes, prompting her to toss her scone at his forehead, causing it to bounce off and land back on the table. "James," she warned, "sit down before I make you."

Grumbling, James reluctantly took his seat, exchanging a meaningful glance with Sirius, signaling that their business with Palmer was far from over. Sirius nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting anger.

"Anyways, I'm pretty sure I made his chances of procreating 90% less likely than before," Lily declared, picking up the scone that had fallen onto James' plate.

"I hope you uninvited him to your birthday party tonight," James said, slinging an arm around Lily's shoulders and glaring towards the Ravenclaw table in search of Palmer's brown, buzzed hair.

Lily shrugged in his embrace. "I doubt it. He learned to value his life this afternoon, and he knows you and Sirius will be there."

"I don't see why James and I being there has anything to do with it," Sirius remarked, his tone deceptively calm.

"Please," Lily snorted, "don't act like the two of you aren't already telepathically planning your revenge on my behalf."

"Sirius and I don't communicate telepathically," James insisted, "and even if we did, we're well aware that you can handle yourself."

"Keep lying, Prongs," Lily patted his chest with the back of her hand, her tone lighthearted but her eyes full of knowing suspicion, "I've known you long enough to recognize when you're contemplating making someone barf slugs all night."

James chuckled, a warmth spreading through his chest at her remark. Her ability to read him like an open book was both a source of amusement and admiration. She had recently acquired the skill of distinguishing between the Marauders using their nicknames, and the fact that she used his without hesitation was a small delight that never failed to make his heart race. His hand slid down her back lovingly, tracing her sides until he was holding her at the dip in her hip, reveling in the comfort of her presence.

As they sat there, the great hall buzzing with the energy of fellow students eating their lunch, James found himself contemplating the idea of persuading her to spend the remainder of the evening curled up by the crackling fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. The dancing flames and the cozy ambiance seemed like the perfect setting for some quiet moments together, away from the boring classes they were subject to that Tuesday.

"I was actually considering turning him into a slug," James admitted with a mischievous glint in his eyes, savoring the way she blushed when his thumb brushed enticingly across her upper thigh. "But your idea is much better."

Lily turned her head to face him, her green eyes locking onto his with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. Her pupils were slightly wider than usual, perhaps a result of the intimacy of the moment or the thrill of his touch. She whispered, her voice a soft murmur that only heightened the intimacy of their conversation, "It's my birthday, and I don't want you in detention for it."

The air between them crackled with unspoken understanding, and James couldn't help but smile. He was more than willing to comply with her birthday wish, even if it meant putting aside his plans for revenge with Sirius.

He leaned closer, teasing, "Why? Do you have plans for us tonight, Evans?"

She licked her lips, replying carefully, "Well, Mary's making cake."

"I can think of something sweeter." James whispered, winking. 

Remus, with a half groan of annoyance, extended his arm across the worn wooden table, brandishing a succulent drumstick like a playful weapon. He thrust the piece of chicken into James' unsuspecting mouth, prompting an immediate protest from the latter. Startled, James leaned back, his eyes widening as he hastily spit out the uninvited mouthful onto his plate. 

In an attempt to regain composure, Lily took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, and shifted her attention to her lunch, feigning an intense interest in her food choice to divert any lingering feelings someplace else. James’ hand dug tighter into her side, refusing to let her get too far in response to Remus’ action.

“Can I flirt with my girlfriend in peace, please?” James asked with a snap. 

Dryly, Remus remarked, "You two disgust me sometimes."

#jily #happy birthday lily evans #james potter #lily evans #jily fanfiction #jily fic #toe rag (affectionately)

[arealphrooblem]

Mutually Assured Destruction Part 4

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

“How is this art?”

Civilian had never heard of Rothko before this date, but they had assumed they would be looking at normal paintings — portraits and landscapes.

Not squares of color on a rectangle canvas.

Sure they were impressive in their size. But their simplicity clashed against the other paintings in the museum, full of intricate details and delicate brush strokes.

It definitely clashed with their idea of art. But also part of them wanted to get under Jonathan’s skin.

“Did you grow up under a rock?” Jonathan grumbled. “How are you so uncultured?”

“It’s literally two squares of color. I could paint something like that,” Civilian argued.

“Yes, but you didn’t,” he pointed out peevishly. “And even if you did, these are so much more than squares of color.”

“How so?”

Jonathan guided them closer to one of the paintings, his hand gentle on their shoulders. He positioned them directly center of one of the paintings and then stood behind them, close enough for Civilian to feel his breath stir the hair at the nape of their neck.

“To understand and appreciate this painting takes time. You have to really look.” His voice, so soft, so close, sent a small shiver down Civilian’s spine. “Rothko uses simultaneous contrast in his colors to create the illusion of light. If you stare long enough, you can see the color shimmer and move.”

Civilian squinted at the painting, trying to see what he described. At first they just remained a block of color. But, true to his word, after a few minutes, they began to see the shimmer, the glow, of the paint. Faint hues appeared in the black — red-black and dark dark blue-black. They shifted into one another, almost like a dance. It was hypnotic.

“Do you see it now?” Jonathan whispered.

“It’s . . .surprisingly beautiful,” they murmured.

“Just like you.”

The spell between them snapped. Civilian jerked around only to be met with his wicked smirk.

“So the unrefined can be taught,” he said. “You should be proud.”

“Shut up,” they snapped, cheeks hot.

He gestured to the next room. “Shall we continue?”

As they coasted to a stop on the third yellow light in five minutes, Civilian side-eyed Jonathan.

“I think this is your power — getting every yellow light.”

“That’s not a power — that’s a curse,” he muttered.

It had become a game between them. A strange, fucked up game where Civilian guessed intentionally wrong answers about the power behind his aura and he neither confirmed nor denied it.

Downplaying such power made it easier to bear sometimes, but also . . .it was dangerously easy after a month of “dating” to forget that he even had a power. The aura had turned into the background noise of their life, the way people who live by train tracks learn to tune out the noise of the trains.

Jonathan treated them to lunch every day at work, and once a week he took Civilian on a proper date — dinner and bowling (he got a perfect score compared to Civilian’s five gutter balls) or trivia night at a local bar (they both lost miserably in the sports category) or an afternoon trip to the aquarium in the next city over (their favorite date so far).

Civilian did not have any choice in the activities or any knowledge of what each date would bring, but underneath the constant layer of anxiety and frustration that coated every interaction with Jonathan was genuine enjoyment.

The dates were the only real social interaction that Civilian had outside of run-ins with neighbors and coworkers. A fact they tried not to dwell on too much.

Tonight they pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater. Civilian raised an eyebrow when Jonathan bought two tickets to Blood in the Stone but said nothing. Refined Art Museum Jonathan didn’t seem the type to like supernatural horror movies, but so much of him stayed shrouded in mystery that predicting anything about him was impossible.

Civilian, on the other hand, did not like horror movies. But they refused to let Jonathan see their trepidation. Instead, they watched the screen stone-faced and ripped the napkin in their lap to shreds. Something warm and ticklish slide down the delicate skin of their wrist just as the movie protagonist got caught up in some horrific tentacle monster and Civilian could not stop the scream from bursting out.

Jonathan’s warm breath brushed against their ear as he chuckled. His fingers slid down to detangle the twisted remains of napkin from their hands.

“Should we leave early, before you wet yourself?” he whispered.

“Why did you pick this movie?” Civilian hissed, refusing to look at him.

“Maybe that’s my power — I’m not afraid of things that aren’t real.”

“Maybe your power is being an obnoxious prick.”

He chuckled again, a low rumble in their ear, and Civilian had to bite their lip against the strange shiver that rippled down their spine.

A jump scare burst onto the screen. Civilian yelped, their fingers reflexively squeezing Jonathan’s hand. They expected him to pull away the second their death gripped relax, but his hand stayed throughout the rest of the movie, fingers casually interspersed with theirs.

Part five here

Tagging: @those-damn-snippets, @heroes-villains-side-blog

@anonymousewrites @follow-me-into-the-fog @sunnyside-world @rivalriotrenegade @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

Let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #civilian x villain #enemies to lovers #my writing #not a prompt #mutually assured destruction

[nymrs]

Would you please write an imagine about Neymar and the reader celebrating a big win. (Fluff) I totally understand if you are unable to do this. 🫶

#5. CELEBRATIONS | Neymar Jr.

Your heart was racing, you were so anxious you could swear there were pearls of sweat running down your forehead. The whole stadium watched your fiancé. It was the Champions League final and if PSG scored their penalty now, they would win. You prayed to God, knowing Neymar would fully blame himself if they’d lose. He got into his position and jogged towards the ball after hesitating for a moment. The moment he kicked, you squinted your eyes together, unable to watch because of the nervousness and adrenaline running through your blood. A moment of pure silence, then being interrupted by cheering and clapping all around you. You opened your eyes to see the PSG team hugging Neymar, holding him up until the whole group finally fell to the ground. And this was the moment you knew, he made it, my fiancé fucking made it. The adrenaline turned into happiness and joy that was showing by your eyes tearing up. Rafaella, who attended her brothers important match, pulled you into her arms, tears streaming down both your cheeks. Pulling away, she softly stroke your arm, "Go down there, he’s probably waiting for you already." You glanced over to Neymar. He was watching you while his mates couldn’t seem to stop expressing their overflow of positive emotions by hugging him and jumping around. You ran down the stairs, the security men already opening the barriers for you and the other relatives of the new champions. The field was crowded with the teams' families and friends, while Neymar simply stood there with the biggest smile on his face, stretching out his arms for you. "You made it babe, you really made it! I’m so proud of you, I love you so much", you exclaimed the moment you crashed into his arms. He hugged you tight, holding you up a little bit before placing a kiss onto your lips. Once you pulled away from each other you saw the tears in the corner of his eyes. You continued praising him before he cut you off, "I wouldn’t be able to do this without you Y/N." You looked at him in confusion, the grin on your face did not disappear while you shook your head. "But Ney, I didn’t do anything. This is you. You made it, just like I knew you would." His thumb softly stroke your cheek. "But who supported me through it all? Who had to keep up with my moods; motivate me whenever I was about to give up – who kicked my ass the times I’ve been too lazy to train, and who made me play in ease, letting me know that no matter the outcome, I'm being loved and appreciated? It’s you, and if it wasn’t for you, your support and your love, I would’ve lost all motivation long ago", he paused for a second, "We won the Champions League, but I won in life, with you." You wrapped you arms around his neck and pulled him closer as you didn’t stop telling him how much you loved him. Before you could even pull away from each others lips, you saw Sergio running towards the two of you, with an open champagne bottle pointing at you. "Sergio, no!", you squeak, but he only laughed at your scared facial expression and got you soaked in champagne. Neymar was amused by your angry glare. "Champions! We are the champions", Sergio started singing and wrapped an arm around your fiancés neck, both of them jumped while Neymar grabbed the bottle and took a big sip. You didn’t like the idea of going home smelling like nothing but alcohol, but your worries and madness instantly disappeared the moment you saw Neymar celebrating their victory and finally being highly appreciated not only by the team, but even the fans that used to shit talk about him. It was literally Neymars day, and you were endlessly grateful for being able to celebrate with him and possibly even contributing to his motivation.

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[simpysheep]

Independent Woman

So... we all know Mr. Fushiguro would make an S-rank sugar daddy. But how would Toji handle a woman who wasn't impressed by his usual advances?

Contains: sugar daddy Toji, soft Toji, cute Megumi, strong independent female reader who don't need no man

I'm entertaining the idea of a Part 2, so lmk what you think!

At first, he assumes you're playing hard-to-get; it wouldn't be the first time a girl took that approach. You probably thought that pretending to be unswayed by his designer gifts and vacation proposals would set you apart from other girls, or make him increase the value of his offerings. So, the next time he sees you, his offer for a weekend in Napa now becomes a month in France. He's sure you'll bite at that one - after all, he first spotted you at a cute little French bistro, dining alone and then chatting away with the server about your favorite regions for reds and whites.

Unfortunately for Toji, his vacation proposal seemed to have an unexpected negative effect. In fact, you somehow managed to appear insulted by his thoughtful, generous offer! Still, the way you narrowed your eyes before catwalking away on your little heels only made him want you more.

Speaking of heels, Toji couldn't help but notice that yours are nothing special. Clean and simple, modest height, no discernible brand markings to be found. Now that he thinks about it, he can't recall noticing any brand names or logos on other pieces of your outfit either. He makes a mental note to check your bag next time he sees you.

When that time comes, Toji is caught off-guard. You were at the park walking your dog - and God knows Megumi has to pet every damned dog he comes across. Toji didn't recognize you underneath your ball cap, until you looked up at him with those gorgeous fucking eyes of yours. For once, they seemed surprised in a good way. It was then that Toji decided to step away from his usual tactics and play it a bit more lowkey.

It worked. Finally, you responded to him the way he wanted, divulging little bits about yourself and seeking more details about him personally too. While Megumi played with your pet, Toji learned that you moved to town alone for a job opportunity. Despite the fact that you had no existing friends or family in the area, you were optimistic and excited to be exploring your new surroundings. You worked hard and took care of yourself, and you were proud of it. Girls, no, women like you were a different breed than what he usually entertained himself with. With every word you spoke, Toji found himself wanting to listen to you more. Silently, he willed Megumi to keep petting that dog of yours as long as it would let him.

By the time you parted ways, Toji managed to make you laugh out loud at least twice, and he could swear it was just like listening to music. You smiled and agreed when he suggested you all meet at a dog-friendly coffee shop the following weekend. Finally, after weeks of trying, you let him get your number. He promised to call to set up plans later in the week, and of course, he did.

As for gift-giving, Toji decided to save that for later in your relationship. Well, until he saw the cute little cups that looked just like your dog at the coffee shop during your date. He bought two, so you and Megumi could match. ❤️

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