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#the thing that gets me is like instead of just telling me this
lxnarphase · 1 day
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko
☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself
“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”
✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun
“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.
“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”
✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.
“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.
“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”
✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.
“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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a11eya · 2 days
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut
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The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 
Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 
“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 
“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 
Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 
“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 
Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 
Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 
It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?
You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 
She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”
“Rie, I will leave.” 
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 
She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 
“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 
Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”
“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 
The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 
“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”
You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 
As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 
Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 
You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”
Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 
You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 
“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 
You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 
“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”
You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”
Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 
You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”
Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 
“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 
You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 
The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 
It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 
“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 
“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 
“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 
She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”
“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.
A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 
“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”
Rie snorts. 
“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”
You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”
She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 
“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 
And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 
“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”
Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 
Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 
While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.
It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 
You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.
Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 
Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 
But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 
At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 
You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.
“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 
You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 
“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 
“Last question, I swear.” 
“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 
She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”
“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 
“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 
“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”
“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 
“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”
Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 
Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”
Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 
You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 
Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls
Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 
“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 
“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.
Smiling, you leave her to it. 
Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 
“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 
Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 
Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 
“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 
While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  
“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 
Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 
Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?
“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”
“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.
For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 
“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 
“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 
“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 
He says something you don’t quite catch. 
“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 
“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 
Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.
“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 
“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 
There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 
Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 
“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”
You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?
But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 
“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”
With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.
“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”
“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 
You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 
All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.
For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.
As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.
Fuck. 
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Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!
A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:
A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.
Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!
Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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should be me || leah williamson x reader ||
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leah gets jealous when the team tease you about the obvious thing going on between you and rachel daly.
you sat silently in your cubby, ignoring the looks of your teammates. this game against aston villa wasn't overly important, no more than any others you'd played this season. still, you were incredibly nervous about it. your captains were all picking up on it, but they had different approaches for trying to help you.
leah tried to comfort you the best that she could, but it was little more than an awkward shoulder pat and reassuring comment. kim was much more motherly in her attempts to calm you down a bit. however, it was unfortunately katie who was the most effective with her knowing and teasing comments.
"are you excited to see your little girlfriend?" katie asked as she nudged you with her elbow. both you and leah snapped your heads towards katie to glare at her. leah's glare was all anger, but yours was annoyance. "she's been asking a lot about you. i think you've really got a chance."
"whatever," you huffed. truthfully, you would have been more than happy going out with rachel. however, there was a slight problem. she wasn't leah. nobody else was leah, and that was why all of your dates led to absolutely nothing. you wanted to be with leah, but leah didn't want to be with you.
"seriously, she's interested," katie told you.
"drop it mccabe," leah grumbled. katie put her hands up in surrender, muttering about how she only wanted to help her friends. katie didn't understand why leah always got so upset whenever arsenal played aston villa. leah and rachel were friends, at least they were until the teams met up. leah was friendlier with her national teammates who played for chelsea than she was with rachel. "you good?"
"i'm fine leah," you promised her. she smiled as she ruffled your hair a bit. you groaned as you tried to fix your hair again. you were just finishing up whenever kim called everybody to huddle up for a quick pre-game pep talk. you knew that arsenal had this game in the bag, but you still appreciated the little boost to everybody's confidence.
"quick hug before we become sworn enemies?" rachel asked. you hadn't expected to see her waiting for you as the team shuffled out of the locker room. admittedly, you had been a bit eager as you launched yourself into her arms. behind you, leah scoffed as she walked past the two of you. "i'd tell you good luck, but my mates would kill me."
"we don't need it anyway." you gave rachel a cheeky smile before you joined your team. the girls all started to tease you a bit as you found your mascot and spot in line. you knew that you had done it to yourself, but their words still made your cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment.
arsenal's win over aston villa was unsurprising. you hadn't scored any goals, but your two assists brought you all the pride you could handle. usually, you found yourself right by leah's side after games like this, but katie was excitedly pushing you away from the team. you were about to question her whenever she directed you towards a downtrodden rachel daly.
"go on, give her something to smile about," katie told you. she gave you a good shove, which leah missed. all the blonde saw was you walking over and sitting next to rachel. the two of you sat on the pitch for nearly 10 minutes together before you got up to take a shower.
you liked longer showers, but a good amount of the hot water had been used up. you walked back into the locker room to the stares of your teammates. this time, instead of katie starting the teasing, it was steph and caitlin. even kim joined in, which was when leah finally lost her cool.
"for the love of god, will you lot stop talking about rachel? i am sick and tired of hearing her name! we get it, she's into (y/n) and maybe (y/n)'s into her too!" leah shouted. you flinched as she stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her.
"what the hell was that about?" katie asked as she glanced over towards you. in all honesty, you had no idea what leah was on about. she had never been a big fan of the jokes, but it had never seemed like something that would result in such an outburst.
"(y/n), honey, i think you should talk to leah," kim told you. she placed her hand on the small of your back as she guided you onto your feet. you didn't know why, but you were incredibly nervous as you looked for leah. she wasn't mad at you, but there was a chance that she'd blow up on you too. you didn't want to smother her, but the team had decided that you were the best person to find out what was wrong.
"leah?" you called out as you found her in an empty trainer's room. "can i sit with you?"
"surprised you're not off comforting your little girlfriend," leah grumbled. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you stared at her. at the look of confusion on your face, leah suddenly felt a bit guilty. it wasn't you who had been making all the jokes after all. if anything, you were the most innocent in the whole situation. you didn't seem to understand the situation, unlike kim and alessia, who definitely knew all about leah's feelings.
"i don't have a girlfriend. rachel and i are just friends, leah. we grew up in the same neighborhood, we're like sisters," you told her. leah had heard it a million times before, just like most of the team had. "why does it bother you so much whenever they talk about rachel? you two are friends."
"it's not just rachel, it's you and rachel that bother me. this is embarrassing to say out loud, but i get jealous," leah admitted. you didn't understand what leah could possibly have to be jealous about. the two of you weren't dating, and even if you had been, you never ever would have hooked up with rachel. you meant it whenever you said that she was like your sister.
"i'm not yours, so why are you so jealous?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice. leah caught onto it, and instead of getting defensive, she decided to play along. if you wanted her to stop, you were more than comfortable telling her so.
"because maybe, i think that you should be mine," leah said. she grabbed onto your jaw and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your lips.
"don't play with me like this," you warned her.
"i'm not playing love," leah told you. you swallowed as your eyes flicked down to her lips. leah caught your gaze and took the hint. she didn't waste any time in teasing you, opting to press her lips against yours instead. you kissed leah back, opening your mouth just enough for the tip of her tongue to dip into your mouth. leah's hands moved to the back of your head as she pulled you even closer.
"take me home." you had been reluctant to break the kiss, but if things had gone any further, you wouldn't have been able to stop yourself. leah seemed to understand that, sighing as she got off of the table.
"not tonight, not yet. i want to do better than that for you. i'll pick you up tomorrow morning for coffee and breakfast. we can see how things go from there, okay?" leah offered.
"i never thought i'd see the day leah williamson turned away such a willing bedmate," you teased.
"trust me, it's not easy by any means, but you deserve better," leah said. you pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks before you leaned in for a final one to her lips. this kiss was softer and sweeter than the one you had just shared, neither one of you pressing too far in any direction. "i'll miss you."
"i never thought you could be such a sap, it's cute."
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killerlookz · 2 days
Text
Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid
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description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.
pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader
content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.
word count: 4,242
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If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.
The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.
You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.
You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.
You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.
You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.
You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.
The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.
"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.
The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"
Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.
"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.
His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.
"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.
"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.
"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.
"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"
He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."
"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"
"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."
"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"
"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."
You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"
He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.
You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.
"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."
"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."
"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.
"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."
"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."
Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.
"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.
"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"
"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.
"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."
His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.
"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."
Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,
"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.
"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."
Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."
"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.
"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.
"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink
"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,
"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"
"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.
"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.
"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."
"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.
"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."
"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"
Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.
"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.
Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"
"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"
Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.
"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.
"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.
"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"
"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.
"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"
"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.
"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."
"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."
"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.
"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.
"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."
"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.
You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.
"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.
"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.
The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.
"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"
You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.
"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.
"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.
Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.
As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.
With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.
"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.
You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,
"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."
"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.
"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.
"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.
"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."
"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.
"Better?" Spencer asks.
"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."
Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.
"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.
"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."
"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.
"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.
"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.
The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?
The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.
"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.
"University Drive."
The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-
"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."
"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.
Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.
The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.
"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.
"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.
You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.
You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.
"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.
"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.
"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.
"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.
"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.
"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.
You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.
"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.
"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.
"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"
"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"
"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.
You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"
"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."
Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.
The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.
"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.
"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."
"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.
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A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)
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joelmillerisapunk · 2 days
Text
Dirty Daddy
Dbf/daddy!Joel x f!reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount: 2,489
Summary: Congratulations, you've just earned yourself a daddy, albeit not for being a good girl.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, light consensual choking, light slapping, oral receiving m!&f!, fingering, implied age gap, mentions of the names 'slut, brat, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl, and daddy', Joel's all greasy and sweaty.
Notes: it was this picture that inspired this along with part of a request I received that I'm writing a different daddy!fic for. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider
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Joel groans as he tightens a bolt on his truck, sweat drips down his forehead and mixes with the dirt and grease that cover his face and hands. He's been working on this truck for hours, ever since it broke down on him during a job, his last job of the day. He could be home relaxing. Instead, he's here. Luckily for him, his buddy, your dad offered him the use of his garage to work on it, and Joel gladly accepted. It wasn't often that he got the chance to work on his baby, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a broken engine get in his way.
But as he stands up and stretches his aching back, he can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It isn't just the truck that’s been giving him trouble - it’s you, who's been teasing him mercilessly since he arrived. Wearing those skimpy clothes, that short fucking skirt, that leaves little to the imagination, bending over in front of him and "accidentally" brushing up against him as you walk by. Joel's been trying to ignore you, but it's getting harder and harder to do so.
As if on cue, you walk into the garage with a smirk on your face. "Hey Joel, need any help?" You ask, leaning over the open hood, letting your cleavage do most of the talking.
Joel grits his teeth as he looks up straight at your breasts and then quickly back down to the engine. "No, I got it.” he says as he looks up once more only to see you pouting, but Joel can see the spark in your eye. You're enjoying this, you fucking minx.
"Come on, Joel. I'm just trying to help." You reach up to adjust yourself on the hood of the truck, giving him a clearer view of your breasts that are now pretty much popping out of your top. You catch his gaze and smirk, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. You hop down and start touching his arm, “cmon, I can help, I'll hold the flashlight or something.”
Joel snaps, dropping the tool he's holding, and pushes you roughly against the nearest free wall. His grip is tight around your arms despite being all greased up from his truck. "I know what you're doin'," he growls, "And it ain't gonna work."
You can see the fire in his eyes, and you know you've pushed him too far. But instead of backing down, you challenge him. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Joel's eyes narrow, and you can see the tension building in his muscles. "I'm warnin’ you," he says, his voice gets deeper and quieter. "Stop, or you're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for."
"Is that a promise?" you ask.
Joel's eyes go dark, and he grabs your face roughly, his dirty fingers grasping into the hollows of your cheeks, pulling you close, leaving his musky, grimy scent on you. "You have no idea what you're gettin’ yourself into, do ya?” Joel's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your face. "You think you're being clever, huh? Lemme tell ya something, sweetheart. You're playin with fire, and you're gonna get burned."
You can feel the heat radiating off of Joel's body, and you know he's serious. But instead of being afraid, you're turned on. You've never seen this side of Joel before, and you can't help but feel yourself getting wet.
Without warning, Joel grabs you by the waist and pins you harder against the wall as he grinds himself against you, his hardness pressing into your core. "This whatcha want babygirl?" His lips brush against your ear. "You've been teasin' me all day, I think it's my turn to have a little fun now."
You moan as Joel's hands roam over your body, roughly groping your breasts and ass, leaving dark stains across your clothes. You can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you can't wait to feel him inside of you.
"Please," you whimper, "I need it."
Joel smirks as he pulls away from you. "Beggin already?" He says, 'That ain’t like you."
He reaches down and unzips his pants, pulling out his long, hard cock and starts to stroke it. "On your knees," he commands.
You don't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking it gently as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel's eyes darken as he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head towards his cock. "Open wide, and don't fuckin’ bite."
You comply, opening your mouth wide as Joel slides his cock inside. You moan as you feel him hit the back of your throat, your tongue swirling around his shaft as you suck him off.
Joel groans as he fucks your mouth, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into the very back of your throat. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your tongue.
"Such a good little slut, suckin my cock like a pro."
You moan around his cock, your pussy getting wetter with every thrust.
"M’gonna come baby, and you're gonna swallow every last drop."
You nod eagerly, your mouth still wrapped around his cock. Joel groans as he explodes inside of you, his hot seed filling your mouth as you swallow every last drop just like he said. He pulls out, his cock still hard as he looks down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Good girl, you earned that."
Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before he walks over and starts to clear off the workbench. He pushes aside tools and spare parts, making enough space for you. Once he's satisfied, he turns to you with a stern look in his eyes. "Get up here," he commands, patting the now-clear space on the workbench.
You don't hesitate, hopping up onto the bench and spreading your legs wide for him. Joel steps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you closer to the edge. "You've been a brat all day, teasin' me and temptin me," his fingers dig into your skin.
Joel's gaze is intense as he looks at you. His eyes are filled with desire and a hint of something darker. He leans in closer, his breath is hot on your skin as he starts to kiss a trail down your body, his lips leave a burning sensation in their wake.
His hands roam over your body, roughly groping anything he can as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. You can feel his facial hair scratching against your sensitive flesh, and it sends shivers down your spine.
When he reaches your thighs, Joel smirks and spreads your legs wider, exposing your wet and aching core to his gaze and no panties - you drive him crazy. "You've been teasin' me all day, s’only fair. I get to taste what I've been missin.” He looks up at you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans in closer, his breath hot on your pussy. Without warning, Joel starts to lick and suck at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as he teases you. You moan loudly, your hips bucking up towards his mouth as you try to get closer to him.
Joel's fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, exploring every inch of your pussy, sucking and licks at your wetness. Lapping it up like a thirsty dog. He continues to feast on your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness as you moan and writhe beneath him. Just as you feel yourself getting close to the edge, Joel pulls away, leaving you wanting and needy.
"Uh-uh I ain't done with ya."
You whimper in frustration, and your hips buck up towards him as you try to get him to continue. But Joel is in control, and he's not going to let you come that easily. He stands up and looks down at you. You can see the hardness of his cock that's been tucked back into his jeans, and you know he's just as turned on as you are.
Joel reaches down and helps you off the workbench, his grip on you is firm as he leads you towards the door of the garage. "We're gonna finish this in your bedroom.”
Your body is still tingling with desire as you follow him out of the garage and towards your house.
As you reach the door of your house, Joel turns to you with a serious look in his eyes. "We gotta be quiet, go make sure the coast is clear.”
You quickly and quietly make your way through the house, checking each room to make sure no one is around. When you reach your father's office, you see that he's deeply engrossed in his work, completely unaware of what's happening just a few feet away.
You give Joel a quick nod, signaling that the coast is clear. Joel grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to your bedroom, his grip firm, and reassuring. When you reach your bedroom, Joel pushes you inside and closes the door behind you, locking it to ensure that no one will interrupt you.
Joel looks around your bedroom, his eyes taking in the familiar surroundings. He turns to you, "Take off your clothes," he commands.
You hesitate for a moment, your hands hovering over your shirt. But the look in Joel's eyes tells you that he's not in the mood for games. As you slip out of your shirt, Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the lacy bra that barely covers your breasts.
"Keep goin,"
As you slip out of your jeans, Joel's eyes follow the movement, taking in the curve of your hips and the softness of your thighs.
"Take it all off baby," he commands.
You comply, slipping out of your bra and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him.
Joel undresses himself, his movements quick and efficient. He pulls off his shirt, revealing the hard muscles of his chest and arms. His jeans follow, revealing the long and hard cock that's been tucked away, waiting so patiently for you.
You can't help but stare as Joel undresses, your eyes taking in the dirt and grease that cover his body. He's been working on his truck all day, and the evidence is clear on his skin.
"Like whatcha see, babygirl?"
You nod, unable to speak as you take in the sight of him. Joel steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your body. His fingers leave dark stains across your skin, the evidence of his work still present.
He lays you down on the bed, and his body hovers over yours. His hands roam over your body. His touch is rough, but there's a tenderness to it that drives you crazy.
He leans down to kiss you, his lips rough against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes you. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of what he's done to you.
Joel's hand moves between your legs, his fingers exploring your throbbing clit. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit but never quite touching it. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up towards his hand.
"Please, Joel," you beg, "I need to come."
But Joel is relentless, continuing to tease you just like you did to him, as he watches you squirm beneath him. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your orgasm building deep inside of you.
“Joel,” you whine, “don't be an asshole, let me come.”
Joel chuckles and gives you a light but sobering smack to the cheek. “You don't get to be a little brat and get your way - Beg for it.”
"Fuck you-," you whimper, your voice trembling with need. "Please daddy.”
Joel's eyes blaze as he hears you call him Daddy. He increases the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brings you closer to the edge again, he can feel it. "You like that, babygirl?" his breath is hot as he leans close to your ear. "You like it when Daddy teases you?”
“Mmm, yes daddy yes. Feels s-so good.”
Joel can't hold back any longer. He positions himself between your legs, his cock pressing against your wet and aching core. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust and something darker. He growls as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself deep inside of you.
You moan loudly as you feel him fill you up, your pussy stretching to accommodate his ever growing, ever hardening size. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting forward as he pounds into you. Each thrust is harder than the last, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
Joel's hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he fucks you. His fingers dig into your skin. You can feel his cock swelling inside of you, every vein hitting your sensitive flesh.
"You like it when Daddy fucks ya like the dirty little brat you are?"
You moan in response, your hips buck up to meet his thrusts. You can feel your orgasm building deep inside of you. “Want you to choke me daddy, please.”
Joel doesn't hesitate, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back as he wraps his other hand around your throat, cutting off your airway just enough to make you feel lightheaded.
You moan as you feel his cock press against your entrance once again. He thrusts forward, filling you up completely. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you.
You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. "Not yet, babygirl, fuck - wanna come with ya.” Joel increases his pace. His thrusts become erratic as he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, your orgasm just on the edge.
"Come for me, baby," Joel commands.
Your moans are muffled and strained as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You can feel your pussy clenching around Joel's cock, milking him for all he's worth.
Joel groans as he feels you come, his hips thrusting forward as he empties himself inside of you. He collapses beside you, his body spent and satisfied.
As he catches his breath, Joel looks at you with a satisfied smirk. "Next time you pull that shit, babygirl, I ain't gonna letcha come."
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sweetestdesire · 3 days
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SO DAMN NEEDY
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
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sunglassesmish · 8 hours
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okay so a very long post incoming.
the shock still hasn’t worn off. i asked misha about bi buck after days. weeks. of talking about it as a hypothetical and i got the BEST answer ever and caused extreme disarray in the destiel fandom.
people in my discord group can attest how often i was like ‘ooh i hope someone asks misha in a panel this weekend.’ ‘maybe we can all go in on a cameo and ask him that way instead?’ i was pretty annoying about it, i just. i NEEDED TO ASK.
so i got to the con thinking if only i could ask a question. then i went to misha’s solo panel but didn’t line up for some reason and then by the end, i regretted it because there was no last question and even misha commented on it. i thought damn now i only have tomorrow’s panel to do it. but i wrote down my question anyways and i thought i’m already here, i have to at least TRY.
i complained to my mother about how i really wanted to ask a question, but no way could i tell her i wanted to ask about buck and tommy kissing and destiel. she doesn’t even know destiel is a thing and she would not approve if she did. but i went to the panel by myself, luckily she didn’t have a ticket to the con anyways so she just waited in the hotel lobby after checking out (which was her choice. she listened to misha’s first panel on saturday from outside the room and didn’t want to sit through one again)
anyways so i go to the tomer/karen panel that was before his panel, and i’m on the right side right at the back, the complete opposite side where the people who ask questions are. then towards the end of that panel i move to the left side. i’m still at the back but i’m at the end of the row so i can easily move when i need to. then when the panel ends i go to ask a person who works at the con about asking a question. she says there are still people who didn’t get to ask their questions yesterday so they get priority, and the rest aren’t lining up yet. now i’m pretty confused because there was a distinct lack of questions at the end yesterday but whatever.
so i go to sit back down but there’s a line of people right where the question line was on saturday, so i join it thinking just in case she was wrong. well more people start to line up and she says ‘nobody is lining up to ask yet!!’ and i’m like okay so it’s fine, we really aren’t going yet.
then i sit back down and a few minutes later i see her directing like 4 or 5 people onto seats after she raises a paper saying ‘reserved for questions’ or something like that. so i think okay it’s my chance. i go up and she directs me into these seats that are closer to the front and is filled with like TEN people who are sitting in that ‘reserved for questions’ section. i think oh my god. there are so many people here. i text the discord saying ‘IM IN THE LINE.’
then the panel starts and i’m like okay well i’m towards the end and i’m close to the front now, i’ll take some pics. and as people ask their questions and sit in their original seats, we have to keep moving along the row of seats so we keep getting closer to the middle near the mic.
but then there’s half an hour and one of the people working for the con comes and says to the girl after me in the queue and the people behind her that they weren’t gonna get to ask. she tells the people at the front of the queue ‘i think just the first few of you will get to ask’ - at this point i’m like the 5th/6th in line (after the person at the mic and the person waiting behind them) so i’m not very optimistic at all. and then.
so i tell my discord ‘yeah i don’t think i’m gonna get to ask’ because i’m still pretty far from the end by the mic.
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and then the panel goes on and there ends up being two people, one at the mic, one standing behind them. and one of the people working for the con tells me, THE NEXT PERSON IN LINE, ‘sorry, you won’t get to ask.’ and i am DEVASTATED. i tell the discord ‘yeah i’m definitely not gonna ask.’
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i’m thinking I SERIOUSLY just wasted this whole panel shuffling seats and worrying for nothing (i had also just left my bag with all my stuff on a random seat!) so i sit there annoyed and sad for a minute until i see sean (the con organiser) by the stage and he tells her that i can go up last i guess. so she comes up to me and tells me i will be up next and to stand behind the people at the mic and i’m SHAKING.
i get in the line and i text on the discord that i’m the last question.
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then i stand there listening to the questions before me just thinking oh my god misha is right there and i’m gonna be the last question and oh my god it’s gonna be such a good question. because i saw how much chaos misha caused with his questions on saturday and in this panel i don’t think anyone asked about destiel. so i thought!!! this is gonna be good!!!
and then i get to the mic and they’re all on stage and sean is next to it and says it’s the last question so it’s gotta be a good one. and then alex and rob and misha are all like oohhh it’s the last question but then MISHA. FUCKING. comes off the stage and comes up to me holding the mic and is two feet from me and looks me in the eyes and says ‘don’t fuck it up.’ but i’m like it’s on my phone! i got it written down! and well you’ve all seen the pictures of him looking right into my eyes but i’ll show you again.
so the first two four of these next photos we were making eye contact. i remember when he came up to me i was looking at all the lines on his face thinking man he’s so pretty and he’s right in front of me what the fuck.
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but in these last two i wasn’t looking at him. he was just looking at me. which is just insane to see in retrospect.
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after this i think he went back to the stage and i was like okay this last question is for misha and he cheered i guess. i think i blacked out tbh.
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now when he got back to the stage i think this was when rob started singing the last question song because i remember thinking like damn i need to ask this question before i cry or something. misha was just standing there and looking at me - from the stage this time and i was. freaking out.
after that singing was done i said ‘this question is kinda about destiel, just to warn you in advance.’ and then apparently rob said ‘perfect last question’ and i started asking my question.
i started with saying ‘so there’s this show called 911’ and SO many people started cheering. i was immediately so much more comfortable because i could tell people would know where this was going. especially when after i carried on with: ‘it moved networks from fox to abc in it’s 7th season. and there’s a main character named buck who in the 4th episode kissed another man’ and then people started cheering AGAIN.
and anyways you all know the rest by now. i said ‘the actor who played him reported that they wanted to do something like it earlier in the show, but when they moved networks they were allowed to make it happen. if supernatural moved networks earlier on, or if it was made later on, do you think something like that could have happened with dean and cas?’
and we ALL know misha’s reply by now. ‘if the cw wasn’t so homophobic, dean and cas would have been balls deep for sure.’ i vividly remember being like OH MY GOD (in my head) and then i put my head in my hands a little and apparently. so did misha. which is to be expected i mean that was wild.
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after that he said he was gonna actually give a semi earnest answer and said some things that are shown in these tweets. i remember bits and pieces because i was trying to hold eye contact with misha but i occasionally looked down and played with the mic a little but didn’t want to seem too uninterested. i loved his answer. the thread in this tweet has the general gist of it.
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and if you wanna see the question i had written down and open on my phone, which i edited RIGHT before the panel as you can see from the timestamp (don't judge me for the second question it was just a backup) and a picture of misha looking at my phone. here it is.
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faggy--butch · 13 hours
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is it just me or is the "trans guys are just some boring guys and they make lame music and trans women are cool and interesting and make loud music" jokes almost like. an excuse for why theres not that many trans guys who are popular content creators or musicians or actors or authors or what have you. like blaming the invisibility of trans men on being "boring" and therefore not doing anything rather than oppression.
not to mention the example of music being that people have heard of one singular trans guy who works in a genre they dont like [people really love to act like cavetown is like specifically bad or cringe but thats just what most indie pop/rock/folk sounds like] and theyve heard of a handful of trans women who make hyperpop that they already like [and laura jane grace of course] and its really telling on themselves. theres trans guys making hyperpop and trans women making ""lame ukulele music"" and both of them and nonbinary people making music of tons of other genres. like. cmon. it reminds me of xkcd 385.
also i dont think these jokes are intentionally malicious or anything [most of the time] but it also feels sort of weird to be joking about how boring a group of marginalized people are. im not going to act like its the biggest deal in the world but its sort of low level bullying, innit? and i imagine having this weird expectation to be "cool and interesting" isnt fun for trans women either. its nice to get to be lame sometimes.
Yeah it's super weird, especially because it's repeated over and over, that part is the suspicious part. I even saw it on reddit a few days ago in one of the ftm subs. I do think it's like blaming the lack of trans men artists on trans men being "boring" instead of, you know the bigotry, the erasure, the inequality I think it's also a weird expectation that we all HAVE to live up to what other people think of as "cool" like if we're all not making hardcore metal and being as "SICK" as humanly possible, we are failing at transgender music and therefore are the reason trans men aren't represented as artists enough, which is ummm. okay.
why can't we make soft love songs about being bugs, or whatever. What happens to trans women who don't live up to the metal hardcore aesthetic? Look at Dylan Mulvaney. She made a dumb cutsie girlypop song and everyone acted like she is the founder of misogyny herself. So not only are we ridiculed for the music we make, we're trapped in transphobic expectations of what music we can or should make.
If you expect all trans women to make metal, you'll only see trans women who make metal, if you expect all trans men to make soft music, that's all you'll find! because that's all you looked for! Another thing is like, Oh all trans women music is cool and hardcore rock and roll, but trans men music is dumb and cutsie ukulele music? I wonder what gender those genres are normally associate with? Uhoh we're doing a sexism maybe the person making the joke doesn't have malicious intent, but the joke itself sure does.
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flemingsfreckles · 2 days
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Something New (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.
Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.
WC: 2.4k
A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)
“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.
“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.
“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.
The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.
When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.
“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”
You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.
“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.
“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.
After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.
“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.
“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.
“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.
“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.
“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.
“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.
“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.
“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”
“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.
“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”
She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.
“Let’s go in.”
“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.
“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.
“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.
You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.
You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.
You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.
You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.
“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.
“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.
Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.
You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.
“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.
You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.
“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”
She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”
“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.
Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.
“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.
“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.
“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.
You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.
“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.
“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.
You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.
“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.
She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.
You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.
“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.
You nod quickly at her.
“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.
She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”
386 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 10 hours
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 
Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.
Bradley,
We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.
Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 
If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 
I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.
One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 
Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.
You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.
"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.
Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.
"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.
Hey, Gorgeous,
Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 
I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 
You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.
If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.
Your Truly,
Bradley
Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.
------------------------------
Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 
"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.
He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.
"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.
Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.
Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.
But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 
Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.
When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.
"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.
Hi,
I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.
Vanessa
It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 
"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?
What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.
Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?
He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.
"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.
No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.
He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 
He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.
Bradley,
Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.
I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?
Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.
On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.
Yours Truly,
Your favorite pen pal 
Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.
--------------------------
After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.
Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.
It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 
"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.
You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"
Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"
Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."
"What?" gasped Jayden. 
"No way," complained Nia. 
After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.
Hey, Gorgeous,
That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.
I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?
Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?
I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.
-----------------------
Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"
Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.
The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."
As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."
If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.
When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 
As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.
His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.
Bradley,
You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.
I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.
Your favorite pen pal
He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.
Hey, Gorgeous,
You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...
It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?
Yours Truly,
Bradley
And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.
------------------------
A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls
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378 notes · View notes
comfortless · 2 days
Note
i have been thinking about this for a while and i love how you write, so what do you think of biker!könig with a gf that studies in uni? how did they meet? does he get jealous easily of her classmates? what is the aftermath of his jealousy (😏)?
thank you so much 🩷
-🌵
content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. fem (afab) reader, suggestive, but mostly just two sillies attempting to flirt.
They first cross paths at a gas station. Sundown and desolate apart from the woman who approaches the tiny shop on foot whilst he straddles his bike at the pump.
She doesn’t notice him, and that’s just fine. More often than not, people do but for the wrong reasons. It’s always the height or the face only his mother could love. This is a good thing, shows she’s not hasty with her judgment, shows she’s just unaware enough to let something like him in.
It’s stupid, completely ridiculous at how he feels his heart thump to life, ribcage squeezing and stomach a whirl with butterflies at the mere sight. The furthest thing from love comes to mind at the sight: plush thighs peeking out against the hem of shorts that cut off just below her bum, the tight tanktop that displays her cleavage in a way so enticing. But that’s what he immediately thinks of, that word that seems foreign to him even in his mother tongue.
Love.
König could be a gentleman, lie her down in his bed instead of fucking her over the bike, if she were kind enough to follow him home. That offer feels heavy as lead on his tongue, lost someplace in his throat when he really gets a good view of her.
He’s never been good with talking to women, anyway. Especially not an angel so far out of his league she would surely only scoff with her sweet drink in hand, turn away from him with her nose held high and dark circles under her eyes as she suffers through another paper back at her dorm or wherever she came from.
So, he leaves her be as much as he can and should, only watches her with his helmet in place and that dark visor masking where his eyes wander from her face down to the retreating view of her legs as she walks.
The next time time is during the rain.
König is good at refraining from acting on base instinct. There’s a lot to consider before stealing away some miserable dove on the sidewalk, the light drizzle from above soaking into her dress and battering her lashes as she sits and waits for a ride that just doesn’t seem to be coming. He’s got his military background, keeps his house tidy and rarely muddles in the affairs of other people.
It’s just that she’s cold.
He tells himself that the only reason he stops his bike some meters away is because she will get sick if he doesn’t offer her a ride. He’s just being a gentleman. There’s nothing more to it.
So he does. Keeps his helmet on and masks his face as well as the weird excitement and nervousness in his voice when the muffled offer taints the wet air.
It doesn’t matter that he wouldn’t have never considered any of this if she weren’t so cute. If she didn’t look so fragile and sweet. She smiles and nods immediately, fusses with her dress a bit when she climbs onto the bike behind him when she tells him that she’s only just been on a date. It just hadn’t turned out well and whoever the bastard had been had dipped before even the entree was served.
It sends his mind spiraling when it shouldn’t.
It’s deranged to think of her misfortune as fate when it isn’t.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know where to put my hands,” she laughs someplace against his shoulder, chin just slightly tilted up to bump his damp t-shirt. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever heard, not mocking at all, only shy.
“Around me.”
He sounds like an old pervert, feels just like one when he takes her hands into his own and guides them around his middle. Presses in a bit too tight, because it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman so close and it feels good to be held like this.
She makes some quiet noise, a soft gasp, then presses her face into the darkness of his shirt to hide away from the rain or maybe…
“You can come home with me. It’s close.”
She laughs again, and he’s reminded of just how little tact that he has with the fairer sex. She must think him an idiot, some hopeful vigilante that scoops women up from the street after nightmare dates with bad food or bad dick. It sounds so stupid to his own ears, he knows he’s burning crimson beneath the black helmet.
Until she squeezes him a bit, gives what must be her best attempt at a hug from their positioning. Again, too, maybe out of surprise that there’s muscle there. Something a woman like her might like.
“I’ve got nothing to lose, huh?” and then “You seem a lot nicer than he was, anyway.”
The air gets stolen from his lungs and his jaw grows loose. She had only told him yes to maybe sitting on his couch, watching some miserable war film until he brought her back to her academic wasteland, but not a part of him had expected that.
It takes a moment for him to realize he hasn’t said a word, that he’s sat panting like some stay being offered a meaty bone. He takes a moment to reposition her grip around him, too ashamed of the way his cock springs to life at her closeness and the ridiculous fantasy playing out in his head.
“Right… you can dry off there.”
He doesn’t immediately remove the helmet when she steps into his abode, just guides her over to the washroom when she asks if he would mind if she used his shower and lets her be. That room has never known a woman’s touch, and the shirt he gives her to change into isn’t comparable to the cute, floral thing she was wearing.
He takes her dress to the dryer to distract himself from the fact that she’s naked in there, just a flimsy door away. Changes out of his own sopping wet clothes after considering that maybe she would want to touch him again. Maybe it felt nice for her too, just to hold someone. He could hold her too, if she wanted that, bring her right to his bed and keep her safe and warm.
“You’re out of conditioner,” she peeps as she steps back out of the bathroom. “Just thought you would want to…”
Her eyes trail over him for a time as her words taper off to nothing. Then, they’re locked to his face and any hope goes up in an inferno. The scars are probably scary, the dark circles from weeks of minimal sleep are probably even worse. She probably thinks him some sort of monster or a demon, something no girl should be left alone with.
Then, she smiles.
“Wow…”
“What…?”
He expects the worst and instinctively casts a sideways glance toward the helmet sat by the door. The perfect covering to avoid situations like this. It’s not that he’s dependent on it, but… maybe he would have had some sort of chance had he not taken it off.
“I’m sorry for staring, you’re just really…”
Ugly. Scary. Whatever words she’s considering, he doesn’t care to hear them. She could just ask to go home, save herself some fear and save him from another rejection.
“… cute.”
“Okay.”
Scheisse.
That wasn’t a “thank you” or anything of substance, but this is more mortifying than anything prior. Even the women who had pitied him with a date before had never called him something so endearing, never likened him to some adorable little thing or stared up at him like she does now. She only seems giddy, a fire burning behind her eyes like she’s just discovered some secret treasure.
“… cuter than your date?,” he hazards, rolls his shoulders and tilts his head at her. His attempt at sounding confident only comes across bitter and jealous. Maybe he is, but that fucker blew his chance, and she’s blessing König with far too many.
“Definitely.”
The tension feels tangible, despite the absurdity of all of this. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, where to look, what to say or how long to take between breaths.
She’s stood there in his shirt, looking as if she’s already his and he’s the one left feeling ashamed and embarrassed.
“I think you’re pretty.”
“Yeah?”
“Ever since I first saw you, I…” He’s babbling too much, losing any composure because she just keeps her eyes trained on him, that adorable smile curling at her lips. If he sounded creepy, like he’s been following her, she doesn’t even seem to notice.
“Maybe you could take me on a date sometime,” she suggests, her voice coming as a breathy little whisper. Maybe she is shy, but she’s giving him the OK to push and prod and see just how far he can go, to expend all of his luck on this very night.
The rain outside only grows louder, threatening to cut the power and leave this docile angel in some dark pit with a mad king. He wishes it would, it grows harder to keep the prominent excitement in his crotch concealed the more that she talks and bats her eyelashes at him.
Being over-eager was a turn-off, right? He weighs his next words the best he can, considers playing it safe for just half a moment before they escape him anyway.
“Come here.”
There’s a darker storm brewing in his eyes when she takes those first, fragile steps toward him. But she graces him with the light of a spark when her hand finds his chest and presses there, feels his heart beating like it’s a normal thing to search for, like she’s just as mesmerized and surprised as she is now.
She’s snared in an instant with a face buried into her damp hair, lifted up with her legs guided to wrap around his waist. A decade worth of luck spent just like that, but he’s always been greedy.
The demand for more comes with a callused hand guiding her chin up. Her lips part immediately, eyelashes fluttering until they rest atop her cheeks, already warmed with the anticipation of what’s to come. His kissing begins gentle, soft for a second as he tries to memorize the plushness and curvature of her lips with his mouth alone.
Then, it’s only punishing.
He tries to hold himself back, but knowing he could have had this weeks ago while she was wandering about barely dressed drives him insane. The moment she gasps against his mouth, his tongue slips inside to find hers, rolls over it with such a ferocity that the corner of her mouth begins to glisten with their shared drool. She whines, then moans as her hands curl over his neck, petting at the short hair at the base of his skull.
His hands fall to her ass to keep her in place, gives her a pinch and then a grope when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear at all.
And that’s where the well must have run dry, because she tilts her face away with a series of soft pants, squeezes her trembling thighs around him as if to make a silent demand to stop, or maybe not. Everything she does makes him feel both hot and crazy; she doesn’t even attempt to wind out of his grip here, only looks up at him sultry and helpless. She must be wet, he can smell it, practically taste her already, but he doesn’t persist when she halts this dance.
“Wait… waitwait. I don’t even know your name.”
“König.”
She laughs breathlessly, then dips her head to press against his shoulder. His hand immediately rises to pet at her hair, twirling a few strands between his fingers as she tells him her name in turn.
“I don’t really want this to just be… one night, you know?,” she says, and that intrigues him.
“That so..?”
“Mhm…”
He slowly lowers her back down until her feet meet the carpeted floor, then takes her face into both hands while she gives him a cute pout. He could be sympathetic, could make her love him even… she’s left the door open for him already, after all.
“I could just hold you,” he mutters, tracing a circle into her cheek, savoring in the way her eyes seem to light up at that.
“I would like that.”
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lxnarphase · 17 hours
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions
“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”
✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.
“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.
“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.
“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."
✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?
“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”
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ithebookhoarder · 3 days
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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.
In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 
Masterlist
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Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 
Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 
It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 
Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 
It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 
Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 
If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  
Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 
“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”
“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”
The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  
“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 
You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”
“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”
“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”
It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 
It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 
Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  
“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 
Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 
It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 
But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.
Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 
“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”
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mediumgayitalian · 2 days
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———
She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.
“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”
The melody dies in his throat.
“Mama.”
“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”
“Mama!”
She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.
“Who’s the boy?”
“No.”
“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”
“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”
“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”
He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.
Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.
“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”
He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”
“Oh my gods! Stop!”
“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”
“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”
“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”
She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.
“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”
“Ew, Ma!”
He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.
“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”
“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”
“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”
He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.
“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”
“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”
“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”
“Y’all have a strange friendship.”
“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”
She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.
“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”
He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.
She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.
“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”
“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”
Her grin gets sharp as nails.
“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”
“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”
“Oh my gods are you five —”
“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”
“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”
She snickers. “Drama queen.”
He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.
“I’m glad you told me, you know.”
He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.
“I know.”
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simplybakugou · 16 hours
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Hi hi, wonderful!!! How are you on this fine *insert appropriate time of day here*? Could I maybe request dad Bakugou and how he'd react to his son saying something mean to female reader wife? Like, I know Bakugou is really aggressive with his own mom, but I was thinking maybe it'd be a little different when it comes to the mother of his kids?
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⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; teeny tiny bit of angst; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2436
A/N: my first written work on here in almost three years . Forgive me if i’m a little rusty lol. Tysm for requesting and i hope you enjoy :)
© simplybakugou — all rights reserved. DO NOT REPOST/REUPLOAD, TRANSLATE, OR EDIT ANY OF MY CONTENT ON HERE OR ANY PLATFORM
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For a majority of your life, you thought becoming a pro hero would be the hardest thing you could ever do. From attending the illustrious U.A. High to working through the ranks to be in the top three pro heroes, second to none other than your husband, Bakugou, you never would imagine your life to be more difficult than that.
That is until you became a mother.
Only a year into your marriage, you found out you were pregnant with your son, Katsuo. It was difficult to come to terms with being a mother in the midst of your rising professional career but you knew taking care of your son was always going to be your number one priority, just as it was for Bakugou.
Despite the physical complexities of giving birth and being pregnant, the hardest part came afterwards: raising your extremely temperamental son.
Katsuo, ever since the day he was born, was never one to shy away from vocalizing if anything bothered him or made him upset. To screaming and crying on the top of his lungs as a baby to whining and throwing tantrums as a toddler in public, you felt yourself struggling to parent your son who made it his life’s mission to give you a hard time.
Who did Katsuo not give a hard time to? Bakugou.
Times where Katsuo would throw a tantrum, screaming and kicking his feet as he laid on the floor, all it would take was a “Stop that” from Bakugou to get Katsuo to cease his actions whereas it would take the whole day for him to listen to you. It was a frustrating ordeal but it never made you love your son any less. You knew this was a phase… at least you hoped this would just be a phase. 
Just as you thought there was a lull in his behavior after he turned five, you became pregnant and gave birth to your daughter Suki. To say Katsuo was not thrilled was an understatement. He hated the attention that went to Suki instead of him. He hated that his parents had to take care of his baby sister that he didn’t want and he never hesitated to vocalize how much he didn’t want a sister.
“Can we get ice cream, too?” Katsuo asked excitedly, kicking his feet while sitting in the shopping cart that you were pushing. His little index finger pointed at the box of fudge popsicles.
“Will you share with your sister?” You asked, eyeing your son for his reaction.
As expected he was not pleased as he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. “Fine. Whatever," he muttered curtly.
You smiled, grabbing the box from the freezer and putting it in your cart, knowing full well that his brief reaction would be the closest thing to a compromise that you'll get out of him.
As you were pushing the cart into the checkout line, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You answered your husband’s call, holding your phone in between your shoulder and your ear as you scanned the items in your car. “Everything okay, Katsuki?”
You could hear your now two-year-old daughter wailing in the background, repeating the word “Nana” as a very frustrated Bakugou expressed, “Please tell me you know where Suki’s fucking banana toy is.”
“Her toy should be on the sofa in the living room like it always is.” You adjusted your phone into your hand as you began to pay for your groceries.
“It’s not there and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.” 
“Honey, I’m not sure where else it could be. Suki always keeps it there so she doesn’t lose it.” 
As you grabbed the receipt from the little printer, you saw Katsuo giggling to himself from the corner of your eye as he was listening to your conversation. “Katsuo, what did you do?”
“Did that little shit fucking hide it?” Bakugou asked angrily through your phone.
“Katsuki, I’m almost done here. I’ll be home soon.” You sighed as Katsuo continued to laugh, his hands covering his mouth as if this were the funniest thing that could’ve happened for him. 
“Katsuo, did you hide your sister’s toy?” You asked sternly, pushing the cart towards the exit. Katsuo simply shrugged, ignoring your question.
All you could was sigh as you loaded your car up and drove you and your son home.
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You stood in front of the door to your home and before you could knock, it swung open, revealing an exhausted Bakugou holding Suki who was still crying.
“Still no luck?” You asked as Katsuo ran inside, almost knocking you and the bags of groceries in your hands over.
“No,” Bakugou said with an exasperated sigh as he closed the door. 
“Nana,” Suki cried softly.
You set the groceries on the dining table before rushing over and taking Suki from Bakugou. “I know, sweetie. We’re going to find Nana for you, okay?”
She rested her head on your shoulder, tiring herself from wailing earlier as she rubbed her eyes. You turned to Bakugou who looked like he needed a nap immediately.
You caressed his face. “My poor babies,” you cooed as you teased him.
He glared at you before taking Suki back in his arms. “You better get Suo to confess where that banana is.”
“Me? Where are you going?” You questioned, watching as Bakugou took Suki upstairs. 
“Sleep,” He said plainly. “Exhausted.”
You sighed, going back to the dining table to put the groceries away. “Suo?” 
Katsuo stuck his head from under the table, two of his toy cars in hand.
You sighed. “Katsuo, I’ve told you many times not to go under the table.”
He crawled out and stood to his feet. His vermillion eyes, identical to his father’s, watched as you went back and forth from the table to the refrigerator. “Why?”
“Because you could hit your head. And we have rules and you have to listen to them.”
“Does Suki have to listen to them?” He uttered his sister’s name with as much disgust as his seven-year-old body could muster. 
“Suki is still a baby. She’s two, Suo, and she can barely speak.”
“Well I used to be your baby, too, before she came,” Katsuo grumbled under his breath, fidgeting with his toys.
You smiled at him, understanding the feeling of being jealous of your sibling getting all the attention. You crouched in front of him and ruffled his ash blonde hair. “You’ll always be my baby.”
Katsuo nudged your hand away, turning away from you. “Whatever. You don’t mean that.”
You stood to your feet. “Katsuo.”
Katsuo spun around quickly, dropping his toys to the ground as he raised an accusatory finger at you. “You always say I’m your baby but it’s not true! You care about that stupid baby more than me!”
He turned around again as he started to sprint and make his way upstairs. You went after him as you exclaimed, “That’s not true, Suo!”
Katsuo turned once more in the middle of the staircase, his brows furrowed and his lips overturned into a frown. “I said I didn’t want a sibling and you still had that stupid girl! You’re the worst Mom ever!” 
He continued running upstairs and into his bedroom, slamming the door loudly behind him. 
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Bakugou, who so desperately needed and wanted to take a nap, stood to his feet immediately following the sound of Katsuo’s door slam shut. Fortunately Suki hadn’t awoken, allowing him to leave and somehow patch this situation up. 
Katsuo did this often, yelling at his mother and storming off into his room. However, he never insulted you in the way he did that day, and Bakugou knew you were going to take his words to heart.
Bakugou quietly made his way downstairs, peeking around the corner of the railing to spot where you were. You were sitting at the dining table, your back to him. He immediately noticed your shoulders shaking as you sniffled and wiped your eyes profusely.
“Y/N…” You spun your head at the sound of your husband’s unusually soft voice. 
“Katsuki…” You wiped your eyes to get rid of any stray tears, not wanting to worry him. You attempted to muster a small smile, ultimately failing to do so. “What’re you doing awake?”
He sat down in the chair beside you. He stared at you, taking in your features as he raised his thumb and swiped under your eyes to catch your tears. “Don’t cry.”
Your lips quivered and the tears you were attempting to hold back spilled out. “I feel stupid for crying but-but his words hurt, Katsuki.”
Bakugou leaned towards you, his arms maneuvering you onto his lap. He held you close to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “You’re not stupid for crying. He said some fucked up shit, and he shouldn’t have.”
He pulled away, brushing your hair away from your face with his hands as he kissed you softly. “You’re not a bad mom, Y/N.”
You let out a humorless laugh, wiping your eyes again. “I know. I just… don’t know how to validate his feelings.”
“Don’t worry.” Bakugou moved you back onto the chair as he stood to his feet. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Katsuki.” You reached for his hand, looking up at him. “Just don’t yell at him, alright?”
“I know. I was seven once, too, y’know?” And like that Bakugou made his way back upstairs, his footsteps echoing through the hall. He made it to Katsuo’s door and knocked.
“Go away!” Katsuo yelled from the other side.
“I don’t care what you want, I’m coming in,” Bakugou stated and opened the door. 
He was met with a soft pillow to the face as an enraged Katsuo yelled, “I said go away!”
“Katsuo!” Bakugou exclaimed. Katsuo immediately stiffened, his expression twisting into fear from his father’s tone. Bakugou closed his eyes and sighed, calming himself down before speaking to his son. He didn’t want to go about this the wrong way.
Bakugou picked up the pillow as he sat on Katsuo’s bed beside him, placing the discarded item back onto the bed. “Why did you yell at Mom?”
Katsuo crossed his arms over his chest. “‘Cause she wasn’t being fair.”
“So she deserves to get called a ‘bad mom’ because of that?”
“No…” Katsuo mumbled after pausing for a moment. 
Bakugou sighed, lifting Katsuo and repositioning him on the bed so that he was facing him. Katsuo kept his eyes glued down, not wanting to make eye contact with his incredibly intimidating father. “Suo, look at me.”
Katsuo hesitated but nevertheless he looked at his father. “Why did you call Mom a ‘bad mom?’”
Katsuo fidgeted with his thumbs before upsettingly blurting out, “Because she’s always caring about Suki more than she cares about me!”
“And did Mom say she doesn’t care about you?”
“No…” 
“Katsuo,” Bakugou paused to make sure his son was looking at him. “Do you know how much your mother loves you?”
Katsuo simply shrugged. Bakugou shook his head slightly, reaching behind in his back pocket to grab his phone. He opened his photo album, one with just you that contained hundreds of photos in fact. He showed a picture where you were very pregnant with Katsuo, your hands cradling your swollen belly as you grinned at Bakugou’s camera.
“Here’s Mom carrying you in her belly before you were born.”
Katsuo’s eyes widened at the sight of your stomach, looking up at his father. “I was in there?!”
Bakugou nodded, this time swiping to a video of you holding a newborn Katsuo, tears streaming down your face as you looked down at your son. Your sobs were audible, looking over at Bakugou who was recording you. “Katsuki!”
Bakugou’s laughter was heard on the other side of the video and Katsuo watched as you looked back at his baby self in the video. “My baby,” you murmured, kissing his cheek and pressing your forehead against his little one.
“I was her baby,” Katsuo whispered astonishingly. “I thought Mom was lying when she said that.”
“Katsuo, you’ll always be our first baby. You’re our first born. But now Suki needs Mom’s attention, too. Did you see how little you were in that video?” Katsuo nodded. “Well, Suki needs Mom’s help to grow big and strong like you. But she’s lucky cause she has a big brother to help her, right?”
“I guess,” Katsuo huffed. “I’ll start being nice to her…”
“Good,” Bakugou patted him on the back. “Now go apologize to Mom. You didn’t mean what you said, right?”
Katsuo shook his head aggressively. He jumped off his bed and stood to his feet. “I’ll go say sorry.”
Before leaving, he crawled under his bed to retrieve something. When he crawled back out, in his hands was Suki’s missing banana toy that Bakugou had been tearing the whole house apart to find. Katsuo handed the toy to his father, threw open the door, and rushed downstairs until he stood in front of the dining table. His chest rose and fell quietly as he caught his breath from moving so fast. You turned around, not expecting his presence so suddenly. “Suo!”
Katsuo frowned at the sight of your slightly puffy eyes, understanding that you had been crying. And it was his fault that you were crying. He looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have called you a ‘bad mom.’”
You smiled softly, looking at your son lovingly. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head. “It’s not okay. I shouldn’t say things I don’t mean. I just… I was jealous of how you’re always with Suki. But I know that she has to be big and strong like me.”
Your smile widened as you reached out and caressed his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I forgive you.”
Katsuo perked up. “So am I really still your baby? Even if I’m not little like Suki?”
“Of course.” You pulled him into your embrace, his little arms attempting to wrap around you as he hugged you back. “I already said you’ll always be my baby and I mean it.”
You pulled away, kissing his cheek which caused Katsuo to break out into an even wider smile as he threw his arms around you into another embrace.
You laughed, hugging him once more, holding him onto your lap. You looked up, noticing a smiling Bakugou holding an asleep Suki in his arms. He sent a wink your way as you smiled gratefully at him.
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valsdelulucorner · 2 days
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Floyd Head cannons<3
Floyd loves finding his little shrimp hanging out with their friend group or doing work in class, it makes his day. He normally runs over and pushes whoever is talking to you out of the way as he flings himself at you, squeezing you tightly in his arms before scurrying off like nothing happened, leaving you and your company very confused.
Hes 100% the type of guy to say "this ones for you" and completely miss the basketball hoop, instead hauling the ball at one of his teammates while looking so incredibly proud
To be honest if you came to twisted wonderland as a rock climber or a sprinter, he would have the time of his life chasing you around. He's never seen someone as fast as his little shrimpy, you actually give him a challenge. Can you imagine his shock if you just start to sprint up a tree or the side of the wall on campus. You catch his attention originally by climbing somewhere high to pull grim out of a tree, or even seeing you sprint by to try and reach class before the bell rings. You give him a challenge, it intrigues him
Because your a rock climber, your strong right? Imagine your just walking with your normal group before feeling something heavy lunge at you and hold onto you in the piggy back position. You can easily keep him held up right and he will just be a giggling mess, your friends worried for you as floyd remains completely supported on your back. They eventually call jade and azul and they are also shocked to see you just standing calmly, having a floyd full on bear hugging you with all four of his limbs. Maybe you would be a good security person in the Monstro lounge
If you were scared of him, his reaction would depend on how much he likes you. If he only likes to bother you every now and then, not trying to actually start a conversation or a friendship with you, he would 100% use this to his advantage, having you do things for him and azul
If he cares about you alot more, finding you interesting and wanting to be your friend, he would be so very pouty and probably ask you straight up if you actually like him or just hang out with him because your scared of him. If he is head over heals for you or if he sees that its actually bothering you badly, he will try his best to gain your trust better and have you not scared of him. It isnt fun if his little shrimpy avoids him because of his games
Ok hear me out, if Floyd gets to overwhelmed or just far to overstimulated, he turns back into his eel-mer form, just complaining and not wanting to be bothered. If you are with Floyd or if he trusts you a lot like a best friend, you might be able to comfort him in this state. Octavinelle has some massive tanks around its dorm so you will most likely be able to find him there swimming around in his true form. be careful when approaching the top of the tank, if you aren't careful he might try and pull you in. If you guys are dating or if you both are close, he will full on lunge himself at you and squeeze you, resting against you as his lower half remains in the water. Prepare to have some numb legs because you will not be able to pry him off until he stops ranting, you will leave when he feels like it shrimpy
Study dates normally end up as literally anything else dates. You guys are studying together to make sure you guys pass the upcoming exam? He will grow board and probably either lean against you or start making paper airplanes to throw at you. Its boring shirmpy!
Once he starts to fall for you, he will be confused why his heart beats so fast around you when you smile or laugh at him. Your defiantly not a threat, he can easily overpower you. He isn't scared of you, there is nothing about you that is intimidating to him. so why is his heart beating this quickly? He will go to Azul and Jade and just mope around, telling them that he feels funny whenever your around. Jade chuckles as he explains to floyd why he feels like that, azul just looks annoyed as they are both now slacking from their job
He likes that your quite calm around him unlike the other people he normally goes off to bother, you actually can be around him for long periods of time without making him board or annoyed?! He will never say it or even admit it to himself but he really appreciates you more then he knows, he likes having his little shrimpy around
I like the head cannon that floyd teeths (teevths?), he likes chewy types of food and stuff that he can just chew on. Calamari, mints, gum, chewy meats, carrots, really cheesy foods, so many different types of noodles, heck! even some types of edible coral. If he doesn't have anything around him to use, he will chew on your cheeks. He wont make you bleed necessarily, he Justs like to have that mouth stimulation
Calls you "shrimpy" "guppy" "Koebi chan" "Little shrimp"
I feel like he is the type of person to sit and lay in the most random poses during the most random times. Your in ramshackle together? His legs are folded together in the air while he lays on his back, arms splayed out as he just talks to you like its normal.
When the octo-trio first saw grass, jade and azul had to hold floyd back from taking a bite out of the grass
He loves to cuddle you when you two are alone, even deciding to cuddle you in public. He loves holding you in his arms while he rests his face against your neck, having your chin rest on top of his head while you play with his hair. In public, he will be more modest and probably just sit next to you and rest his head on you, he likes lettng the other little guppies see that your his
Floyd loves to randomly steal you away, picking you up easily before dragging you to the monstro lounge for some drinks and food
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I know this was abit different to my other fics and im sorry if it isnt that good. This was difficult to write because im in abit of a writers rut right now, but im enjoying the way it turned out! He was fun to write about but i do think i could have done better
Who should i do next?
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