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saintedcooper · 3 months ago

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I got so fucking romantic, I apologise - Adrian Chase x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: you know when you start writing something and you're like this is so fun i love this idea but then halfway through you lose all hope but you're already 4k words in and you don't really wanna just abandon it. yeah. that's what happened here. anyway we're here now so uh. yeah.

Warnings: fem!reader, piv sex, fingering, explicit language, mentions of violence, alcohol (pls let me know if there's anything i missed!)

Word count: 8.5k

Summary: Adrian lays his cards out on the table after a night at the bar. They say a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, after all.

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"Adrian?"

Oh, this was a rare sight. Adrian Chase, out past 11pm, no Vigilante suit in sight.

He let go of the bloodied and bruised man who's hair he had gripped in his hand, sending him crumpling to the ground with a pained moan. His hands were covered in red, his clothes dishevelled, which made you think there had probably been some push back from the man Adrian had beaten before he eventually got the upper hand. When he turned to face you, stumbling slightly, the snarl on his features was quickly replaced by a lopsided grin when his eyes met yours. Your distinctive black mask covered most of your face, but he knew those eyes anywhere.

"Fuck... Shadow. It's you." He breathed out. You were grateful that he had enough sense to remember to call you by your alter ego, but what you weren't grateful for is the fact that he was stumbling towards you at full speed, almost tripping over his own feet.

You stuck your hands out instinctively, pressing your palms firmly against his chest before he could fall on top of you. "Yeah, it's me." He was drunk. So, so drunk. You could smell the alcohol on him, see it in his hazy smile.

His hands found their way to your waist almost instantly, grabbing and stroking your flesh through the cold, black leather of your suit. "What're you doing here? I thought you were out of town."

"I was." You pushed his wayward glasses back up his nose. "I got back a few hours ago. Thought I'd step out for a little fresh air, see how well the Vigilante has been looking after Evergreen in my absence."

Adrian scoffed, "I've been doing a remarkable job, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, I can see. I came back here to make the third man, but..." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder at the man laid unconscious on the ground, "Seems like you had everything under control. What'd he do?"

"Nothing." He answered simply.

"Nothing?!" Your jaw almost hit the floor.

"Nah, he just looked like an asshole." He seemed to find that funny, because after a few seconds he burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, okay. So now we're beating people half to death just for looking like assholes?" Adrian was a stickler for the rules, that much you knew. If he caught anyone breaking the law, he wouldn't hesitate to threaten, beat or even kill them (which you actively tried to encourage him to do less). Though it seemed in his drunken state, even those who were abiding by the law weren't safe. Especially if they looked like assholes.

He groaned, stomping his foot, "Dodo, look at him and tell me he doesn't look like an asshole. He has the worst tattoo I've ever seen. Seriously, I think anyone with weirdly large tattoos of animals should be banned from public spaces."

You stood on your tip toes again, looking down at the guy. You noticed the buzzcut first, and then you noticed the hideous, unnecessarily large tattoo of a lion on his forearm. Sighing, you shoved your tongue in your cheek for a moment, before begrudgingly replying, "Okay, yeah. He kinda does look like an asshole."

He gave you that shit eating grin, nodding proudly to himself. "See? I knew my little Dodo bird would agree with me." He brought his hands up to your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms under your mask.

You were grateful that he couldn't see most of your face, and that a thin layer of fabric stood as a barrier between his hands and your hot cheeks. The nickname that he gave you all those months ago (Dodo, because you nicknamed him Vig, so he had to return the favour) always had you weak at the knees. You knew each other's real names, and you had seen each other's faces many, many times. Dodo was just something that stuck both in and out of the suit. "Yeah, maybe I agree that he looks like an asshole. But I don't agree with beating random people to a pulp just because they look like that." You flicked his forehead, smiling to yourself when he grimaced and mumbled a quiet 'ow'. It didn't hurt, you knew him well enough to know that he was always playing for your sympathy. "You never know, he could've been a really nice guy."

"Not as nice as me though, right?" He asked, the smile falling from his lips in an instant.

You decided to fuck with him, shrugging your shoulders, "I don't know. Maybe I'll have to get to know him once he's recovered. Figure it out for myself."

Before you could even blink, his hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer to his. "I'll kill him before he can even look at you." He mumbled huskily, licking his lips. You knew he was being serious. A few more choice words from you and the man behind him would be dead, and it wouldn't be a pretty sight. You just loved to see how fast you could wind him up, how fast his mood could flip.

You just smiled under your mask, running your gloved fingers across his forehead before pushing his hair back, "You're cute. But I'm just fucking with you." Cute wasn't a word typically associated with murder, and if anyone overheard your conversations with Adrian, they would probably deem you crazy. But come on, how could you not find it extremely endearing that he would go as far as to murder anyone who looked at you funny or even tried to come on to you?

"No, you're cute." The grin was back on his lips just as fast as it had fallen.

"Okay, how about we get you home, huh?" You suggested, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"But I don't wanna go home yet. I wanna stay here with you." He whined out, poking your stomach. "I've missed you. I wanna spend alllll of my time with you."

He had missed you. While you were away he thought of you. Whether he meant it, or it was just the drink talking, you had no idea. But the thought made your head feel fuzzy. "Well, you can spend alllll of your time with me tonight, but... at your apartment. Sound good?" Adrian bit his lip for a moment, thinking on your suggestion, but it didn't matter what he thought because you had already slung his arm over your shoulder, guiding him out of the back alley. It was a good job that his apartment wasn't too far. With your support, almost all of his weight leant against you, he was still struggling to walk straight. He tripped over his feet more times than you could count, and you feared he would end up falling to the ground face first if you let go of him.

"Jesus, Adrian..." You started, hauling him around the corner on to the main street, "How much did you drink tonight?"

"I don't... I was just at the bar. Studying."

You glanced up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You were studying? And what were you studying? The drinks menu?"

He let out a laugh, leaning backwards, almost falling over and pulling you with him until you managed to haul him back. "Important test coming up. Wont be able to go to the big dance if I don't ace it."

"The big dance? What are we, high schoolers?" You asked, chuckling quietly. Adrian made little to no sense when sober, so drunk Adrian was on a whole new level of senseless.

"Hey, if we were high schoolers I would totally ask you out to the big dance. You're prettier than everyone I knew in high school. Even Katie Reed, who told me that she'd give me a handjob behind the bleachers if I did her homework but when I showed up she had the whole football team there to laugh at my dick, including my older brother and his friends." That hurt your heart a little, but judging by the way he continued talking, it didn't seem to phase him. "You're prettier than her, though. I'd ask you out and happily get rejected in a heartbeat."

"You think I'd reject you?"

"Yes." He didn't even hesitate to answer.

"Why would I reject you?"

He shrugged, "Because you're you, and honestly you're like, the coolest person I know. I was a total nerd in high school."

"Uh, excuse me. I was so fucking into nerds." You argued, poking his stomach with your free hand.

"Yeah, sure you were."

"I was! And you're still a fucking nerd, so I guess I'm still into nerds."

"Hey!" The corners of his lips were pulled down into a sad little frown.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You're totally still a nerd. You watch fucking Fargo every night before bed and you text me D&D memes that I don't even understand. So yeah, you're a fucking nerd. But if you asked me to the big dance, or whatever, I'd totally say yes."

"Okaaay, then will you go to the dance with me?"

"Yes." You answered simply, glancing up at him.

He hummed, a mix between surprise and satisfaction, and grabbed your chin gently, "My pretty little Dodo's gonna be my pretty little date." He had a big, dumb grin on his lips. The kind that made his eyes crinkle, and your heart melt. "We should wear teal. You'd look so pretty in teal. You look pretty all of the time, actually. Especially right now."

"I have my mask on, you can't even see my face." You pointed out, adjusting your grip on him.

"Yeaaaah. But I know what you look like, silly. I'm imagining your face. In my mind's eye, or whatever. It would help if I could see your face, though." He brought his hand up to the edge of your mask, thumbing the black material, a silent request to remove it.

"Not yet, Adrian." The streets were quiet. In the time you had spent lugging Adrian back to his apartment, you had passed maybe three people. It seemed that not everyone was as brave as Adrian on a Tuesday night when it came to drinking. Realistically, you probably could remove your mask without consequence, but you didn't want to risk it. You were five minutes away from his place, and then he could spend as long as he liked looking at your face.

He replied with a whiny 'aw', but he didn't protest any further, much to your surprise.

The remainder of the walk back to his apartment consisted of him telling you about anything and everything that came to mind, while his hands tried to roam your body. Occasionally, you felt the arm over your shoulder slip down to your waist, then to your ass, squeezing gently while he just looked away with the most obvious smile on his lips. You could only shake your head and roll your eyes.

When his apartment came into view, you couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold his weight up.

"Hey, I'm gonna let go of you now, okay?" You asked as you approached the door. "Don't fall over, please. I don't think I'll be able to get you back off the ground if you do." You slipped out from under his arm, keeping your gaze on his swaying figure for a few moments before deciding that he could stand and walk just fine on his own.

"Pfff. I don't fall over. I only fall for you." He pointed a finger at you.

You pulled the heavy door of his apartment complex open with a groan, pressing your back against the glass to hold it open for him. "Whatever, Romeo. Get in." You flicked your head and he stumbled through the doors.

You followed him inside, allowing the door to close itself behind you, pushing the button for the elevator. It occurred to you then just how cold it was outside, your skin burning under the heat in the foyer, yet you were shivering. Your suit was useful if you should find yourself in a fight, but completely useless against the weather. Adrian's body heat, and energy you had exerted practically carrying him home, had been keeping you warm.

Adrian noticed, because of course he did, and before you knew it his hands were on your arms, furiously rubbing as he closed his eyes with a look of utmost concentration on his features.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm transferring all of my body heat to you." He cracked an eye open. "Is it working?"

"I guess?" You answered slowly.

He let out a breath, a grin on his lips. "Sweet."

Before he could continue, you heard a ding from behind you, and within seconds you were gently pushing him into the elevator, following behind and pressing the button for floor three. As soon as the doors closed, he was on you, crowding your body against the mirror, the metal handrail digging into your back. His hands found your hips, squeezing gently. "Can I take your mask off now?"

"Not yet."

"What?! Why not? I haven't seen your face in like... a month." He pouted. That was a lie. He was always so dramatic when he didn't get his own way.

"Bullshit. I've been gone for three days."

"Yeah. Three days too long." He tried to gran at your mask, but you slapped his hand away quickly.

"No, you can wait two more minutes. Just... Imagine my face in your mind's eyes, or whatever." You heard the ding of the elevator again, signalling that you had made it to the third floor. You pushed past him, grabbing his hand as you did so, and dragged him out of the elevator, only stopping when you came to his door.

You were lucky that it was so late, you weren't sure how well Adrian's neighbours would react to him bringing a masked anti-hero of sorts back to his apartment. Sure, they knew he was a little strange, but if they saw you it would definitely get them talking. Might even result in a phone call to the local police, if they cared enough.

"Key?" You asked, holding your hand out expectantly.

He made no effort to move from where he was leant up against the wall. Instead, he nodded his head down, answering with, "Pocket."

You rolled your eyes and shoved your hand into his jean pocket, feeling around for a second for any sign of the key. Nothing.

"Wrong pocket."

You tried the other pocket.

"Oh — wrong pocket again."

You reached around and slipped your hand into his back pocket.

"Would you look at that? Wrong pocket."

The other back pocket.

"Shit, Dodo. I didn't know you were so eager to feel me up. I mean, we're right next to my door—"

"Which fucking pocket is your key in?" You hissed.

"Jacket." He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his lips. It made you want to punch him. Hard.

You didn't, though. You kept your cool as you reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the key, shoving it into the door and unlocking it quickly. You didn't wait for him this time, you just shoved the door open and let yourself in first.

His apartment was in the same state it was in the night you left. A pile of shoes by the door, socks and shirts strewn around the room, the ever-growing pile of unwashed dishes next to the sink. In the window sat the droopy peace lily (Martha) you had bought him a month ago after he came to your place, saw your assortment of house plants and decided he wanted a shot at being a 'plant dad'. It wasn't going so well, evidently, but the cacti he had bought for himself which surrounded the peace lily looked to be in good shape.

"Dude, you really need to clean this place." You commented, kicking off your boots before making your way over to the window, bending down slightly to touch at Martha's leaves.

"Yeah, I was gonna. But you left, so I got too sad to clean." He closed the door, locking it behind him.

"Well, you must be sad all of the time because I don't think I've ever seen this place tidy." You stood up straight then, turning around to face him.

"Yeah. I'm sad alllll of the time when you're not here." You watched him stumble around (failing to turn on the light, instead deciding that the moonlight from the window was enough), kicking off his shoes and pushing stray socks under the couch with his foot as he made his way over to you. He near enough fell into your arms.

"I can't believe you're still this drunk. What the hell were you drinking?"

"I don't know, whatever Chris was drinking."

You scoffed, "So you were out drinking with Chris? And he just left you?"

"Yeah." He shrugged.

"Fucking asshole..." You mumbled under your breath.

You were definitely far from Peacemaker's biggest fan. You never liked him before prison, always finding him to be a little too big for his boots. When the news hit that he had been arrested and sent to Belle Reve, you might have laughed. Might. However, since meeting Adrian, you decided that you disliked Peacemaker (Chris, now) even more. From what Adrian had told you, and from the missing pinky toe, you could tell that he wasn't a great friend. He had sat back and allowed his 'friend' to have his dick electrocuted multiple times (how Adrian's dick still worked, you would never know), and through manipulation tactics he had found himself imprisoned with the goal of killing Chris' father. Only for one night, but it still wound you up just how far he was willing to go for Chris, when Chris never go that far for Adrian.

You weren't jealous. Adrian was spending more and more time with Chris and the makeshift task force they had created for some super secret mission that you knew nothing (everything) about. But you weren't jealous. You just thought he deserved better than that toilet bowl helmet wearing motherfucker. Okay, maybe you were slightly jealous. But you still thought that he deserved better.

"Hey, Dodo. Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm all yours for the night." He teased. "Now can I please take your mask off? I wanna see your face." A nod of your head was all he needed. He reached up and tugged at the material, trying not to catch any of your hair between his fingers, before he pulled it over your face and threw it to the side. "There you are, my pretty little Dodo." His hands cupped your face instantly. "My pretty date to the big dance."

Your face flushed, but this time there was no material to cover it, no shield to block him from seeing exactly how you felt about his little compliments. "I feel like this is a good time to remind you that there's no big dance." You mumbled. If you couldn't hide your face, you were sure as shit going to try to deter the conversation away from your face.

"But there can be a big dance. Well, not a big dance. Just the two of us. Basically I'm saying that we should dance. You're my date, after all. I think you owe me a dance." He grabbed your wrists, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck before his own hands found their way to your waist. He swayed side to side like you were slow dancing, and though you tried hard to keep your feet firmly planted where you stood, it became too hard not to follow suit.

"Dude, there's no music. This is super awkward."

He shrugged, "Just use your imagination."

You couldn't help but laugh quietly, "Use my imagination?"

"....Yeah?" He said it like it was the most obvious solution. "Like, in my head right now, we're dancing to DontTrustMe."

"We're slow dancing to DontTrustMe?"

"Yeah. I never said you had to imagine appropriate music."

That didn't even warrant a response from you. Instead, you laughed quietly before laying your head on his shoulder, allowing a peaceful silence to take over. It wasn't often that you could enjoy quiet, intimate moments like this, where all you could hear was his heartbeat.

"Just look at us, Dodo." His voice broke through the silence.

You glanced up at him, "What about us?"

"We've known each other for nine months now. That's like, the amount of time it takes for a baby to grow. Nine months ago, you held me at gunpoint for the first time."

You couldn't help but giggle at the memory. "In my defence, you held me at gunpoint, too."

It was true. When you first met Vigilante, he had snuck up on you, and in a panicked rush, you pulled your gun on him. He clearly had the same idea, since his gun was pressed against your forehead in record time. It was an instant connection. What started out as flirty comments and quick glances on team ups turned into sex in back alleys, which then turned into sex in his car. Soon, you were sending good morning and goodnight texts, until you found yourself in his bed staring up at soft, green, doe eyes and curly hair, moaning each other's real names as he fucked you good. You weren't... 'official'. You called him your boyfriend to anyone who asked about him, but he hadn't asked you out, nor had you ever asked him out. It was an unspoken thing, the two of you just fell into rhythm so easily.

He shrugged, "Yeah I did, you were fuckin' hardcore. I thought you were gonna put me down on the spot. Now look at you. Slow dancing in my living room." He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, gently lifting your head from his shoulder, making you look at him. "I'm starting to think you've gone soft on me, Dodo."

You swallowed thickly, feeling your face heat up. There was no point in denying it, really. You had gone soft for him. "Yeah. Maybe I have." You mumbled.

He broke out into a grin, "I knew it. I knew you'd gone soft for me. God — I wanna kiss you so bad right now." He was so excited, practically bouncing on his feet at the idea that you were soft for him, and only him.

You gave him a smile and half a shrug, "Then kiss me."

Adrian scoffed, "That wouldn't be polite. I haven't even asked."

You cocked your head. Since when had Adrian Chase ever asked if he could kiss you? Answer: never. He was greedy with your touch and your attention, always stealing kisses. If you ran into each other during the night, he would lift your mask without warning and plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips (on many occasions he thought that it would be funny to lick your face, too). "You've literally never asked if you could kiss me."

"Maybe I'm feeling romantic."

"Or maybe you're just drunk."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Duh."

You hooked your fingers around his belt loops, pulling his body closer and within a split second, his lips were on yours. Soft and warm, with a faint taste of cranberry juice (you came to the conclusion that he had been drinking cosmopolitans) mixed with Burt's Bees vanilla bean chapstick, a taste you were used to and would never get bored of. Your hands pulled his jackets from his shoulders, and he finished the job for you, tugging it and allowing it to fall to the floor, alongside previously discarded garments from nights before.

He gripped your hips, pushing you backwards, stumbling over the clutter on his living room floor. It wasn't long before you were pressed up against the wall, his lips on your neck while his eager hands reached around and tugged on the zipper of your suit. He pulled. Nothing. Pulled again. Nothing. And he kept pulling on the zipper until he was growling against your skin, "How the fuck do you get outta this thing?"

You rolled your eyes, "Dude, we go through this every time. Hold the top and pull gently."

"Fuckin' temperamental." He mumbled, following your instructions. It worked first time, because of course it did, and he continued grumbling to himself while he pulled the zipper all the way to the bottom of your back. Then, his hands were back to being eager and needy, pulling the leather down your shoulders and arms until it hung around your waist, exposing your top half.

"Oh — fuck." He was practically ogling your chest, braless and bared out to him. He stared for a good thirty seconds, before shaking his head and snapping himself out of it. "Fuck. Sorry. You just —... Wait. Fuck, are you too cold?" He ran his fingers along your skin, now covered in goosebumps from the chilly air of his apartment.

"Yeah, a little."

You didn't have to say anymore. Without a second thought he pulled off his t-shirt. "Arms up." He instructed. You obliged, sticking your arms in the air, allowing him slip the shirt over your head, tugging it down to cover your chest. It was comfortable and warm and soft and it smelt like him, and you never wanted to take it off. "Better?" He asked.

"Uh-huh. Thanks." Adrian was always so considerate, it was one of the things you liked most about him. You were sure that if you let him, he would spend all day staring at your chest, wide eyed and drooling. But he wanted you to be comfortable, and if comfortable meant he couldn't stare at your chest, then so be it. He didn't care, as long as you were okay.

His lips found your neck again, biting and sucking at the soft skin (you knew you'd wake up to black and blue bruises, that much was expected from a night with Adrian Chase) while he slipped a hand up your shirt. You gasped as his icy fingertips touched at your stomach, a shiver running down your spine. He just laughed quietly, though, mumbling a 'sorry' before his hand found it's way to your breast. You found yourself caring about his cold hands less and less as hot waves of pleasure ran through your body, his fingers tugging and tweaking at your nipples under the shirt, thumb running across the sensitive mounds.

You gasped, curling your hand into his hair, the other gripping his bare shoulder. Between his mouth on your neck, unrelenting as he sucked against your skin, and the hand playing with your nipples, you were dizzy already, drunk on his touch. It was always like this, though. Adrian knew your body better than anyone else.

"Fuck —" He mumbled against your neck. "I love hearing you." With his free hand, he tugged on the bottom half of your suit. "Can I— Please?"

"God, yes."

He wasted no time in pulling your suit over your hips, dropping to his knees to pull it over your thighs. However, as you expected, he paused completely, ogling you again when he realised that you were bare under the bottom half of your suit too. "Fuck — no panties?" He was looking up at you with wide, doe eyes, hair dishevelled and cheeks flushed. He looked so cute, staring up at you like you were a million dollars and he had just hit the jackpot.

You shrugged, a grin on your lips, "Easy access."

"Fuck... If I would have known you weren't wearing any panties I would have fucked you in that alleyway. Then I would have brought you home and fucked you again. Because you're worth more to me than sex in cold alleys, but holy fuck —" His hands were on your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh. You knew he was being serious, too. You couldn't count how many times you had found yourself bent over on barren side streets because Adrian had found himself so hard he could hardly think.

You couldn't help but giggle, grabbing his hair and pulling him up from the ground with a whimper to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss. You pressed your hips into him, whimpering when you felt his bulge rub against you through his jeans. You were so desperate for him to touch you, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Adrian pulled back, grinning before wiping away the string of saliva, holding his hand to your lips. "Spit." He instructed. You did as you were told without a moment of hesitation, too eager to feel him. You couldn't help but cringe at the feeling of his spit covered fingers meeting your already slick cunt, but the grimace on your features was soon replaced with parted lips and gasps at the expertly placed middle finger on your clit. He had the nerve to laugh at you. "Shit, Dodo. Is this all it takes to get you wound up?" He kept his middle finger still, watching you buck your hips up, desperate for any friction against your clit.

"Fuck you." You managed to spit out.

"Woah - Not so fast, Dodo." That shit eating grin made you want to shove him away, but the hand hooking under your knee and the finger running through your folds, stopping to gently prod at your entrance was enough to make you change your mind.

Slowly, he slipped a thick finger inside of you, watching the way your lips contorted into an 'o' shape, the way your eyes squeezed shut. He groaned, loving nothing more than how tight and wet and warm you felt. "Fuck — always so tight. It's a fucking miracle you can even take my cock." He mumbled, smiling when you whimpered at his words.

He pumped into you steadily with the one finger, waiting until your features relaxed and you were moaning freely to ask, "Want more?" You hummed in agreement, but that wasn't enough for him, apparently. "Dodo. An answer, please."

"Fuck — yes, I want more."

Without a word, he slowly pushed a second finger inside of you, pressing his lips to your hastily to distract you from the burning sensation of his thick fingers stretching you out. "So good for me." He mumbled.

Soon, he was pumping his fingers into you at a steady pace, while you gasped and moaned quietly, your head lolling to the side, allowing him access to your neck. He happily took advantage of that, burying his face in the crook, nuzzling his nose against your warm skin. "Always so fucking tight for me. God — I'm being so serious, there's nothing I love more than this cunt. Wanna keep you all to myself, keep you here so no one else can have you." A pause. "Hey, you should move in."

You let out an airy laugh, "So we can both live like pigs? I don't think so. Ah - Fuck." You cried out when you felt him curl his fingers inside of you.

"I'd clean this place for you. Keep it so tidy. Just for you. I'm being serious. I'd be like the Nev and Max of keeping my apartment clean."

You chose not to question that one. "Dude, we'd be living on toast."

"Toast works for every meal!" He argued, lifting his head and giving you a look of offence.

It was so... strange. There you were, being fucked by his fingers while he asked you to move in with him. You were used to Adrian's rambles during sex, but it usually consisted of praises mixed with the occasional 'slut' or 'whore'.

"Sure, it does. And what gave you this bright idea?" You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his pace quicken.

"I dunno. Easy access." He mumbled, smiling at you as he repeated your joke. "Be so nice to come home — to our home, and stuff my cock in you straight away. God, I'd love to come home, fuck you silly as soon as I walk through the door. The thought drives me fucking insane. I'd make you so many slices of toast after. As many as you want. If you asked for jam on your toast, I would say no problemo."

You couldn't quite tell whether the butterflies in your stomach were the product of his fingers drilling into you or his words, so crude yet so, so sweet. You also couldn't tell whether Adrian was still drunk. It didn't matter, though, you replayed what he said to you over and over again in your head, moaning and bucking your hips, practically fucking yourself on his fingers.

The thought of living with Adrian, of having someone to come home to, of having someone want you around just as much as you wanted them was... surprisingly pleasant.

"I'd fuck you on every surface in this apartment. Not that I haven't already. But I'd do it all over again." He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles against you, and you felt those familiar pangs of pleasure begin to crest in the pit of your stomach, increasing in pressure as he continued talking. "Fuck — I'd spend all day between your legs if you'd let me. I'd make my little Dodo bird cum so many times. You'd have to drag me away—"

"Oh fuck — Adrian. M'gonna cum..." You warned, but he didn't relent. Between his fingers inside of you, his thumb rubbing deliciously against your clit and his dirty mouth, you crashed, your orgasm hitting you so suddenly. Part of you expected him to pull away at the last moment, to leave you whining for him, begging him to let you cum like he usually did. He was feeling merciful tonight, evidently, allowing your body to contract around his fingers, letting you roll your hips against him as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it... Fuck, that's it, (Y/N). You're so good for me." He praised, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, coming to a halt when you rolled your hips one last time.

"Oh, fuck..." You breathed out, feeling him pull his fingers from you, sucking on them one by one. He let go of your leg, and you took a moment to breathe, standing shakily against the wall, chest rising and falling rapidly.

It didn't take long for you to jump back into it, your hand palming at his crotch, feeling the outline of his hard cock through the rough denim of his jeans, while your other hand fiddled with the button. He had made you feel so fucking good, and you wanted to return the favour. He had other ideas, slapping your hand away gently.

"What are you doing?" You asked (whined), brows furrowed in confusion.

"Not here."

"Huh? Why not? I wanna touch you."

He groaned, "Fuck. Just... not here. I swear I'll cum in my pants straight away if your hand gets anywhere near my dick right now."

"I don't care."

"I do! I wanna get inside you."

You scoffed, "Then get inside of me!" You were just about to turn your body, about to press yourself against the wall and present yourself for him, but he grabbed your arm before you could.

"I don't wanna fuck you against the wall."

"Why not? You've had no issue fucking me against the wall before." You were growing increasingly impatient.

"Yeah, but that's not romantic."

You gave him a blank stare, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you become the king of romance in the time I was gone?"

"You bet your ass I did. Now get." He pointed to his bedroom door, and with a roll of your eyes you begrudging did as you were told, pushing his bedroom door open and flopping down on his bed. His room didn't look much different to the rest of his apartment, but you were cozy within the clutter, so you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Adrian followed you into the bedroom, pulling his jeans and boxer briefs over his hips, almost tripping over in his excitement as he attempted to kick them off. Finally naked, he collapsed on the bed, rolling on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs.

"Hi." He whispered, his face only inches from yours, a big grin on his lips. His glasses had fallen from his face long ago, so you found yourself staring up into big, sparkly green eyes.

"Hey..." You could feel his cock pressed against your thigh, rock hard and heavy, leaking with pre-cum. He didn't seem to care though, he seemed preoccupied with staring at your face. So, you poked him in an attempt to spur him on. "Dude, are you gonna fuck me?"

"Oh — Oh, yeah. Shit. Sorry. You're just... You're really pretty." He slipped his hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock, rubbing the tip against the slick of your cunt before slipping his cock inside of you with ease. "H-o-o-oly shit." He moaned out, burying his head in the crook of your neck. The usual mix of pain and pleasure you felt whenever he pushed himself inside of you was absent, his fingers having worked you well enough to take his cock perfectly.

He pushed himself up, resting his forearms next to your head, before he began rocking his hips. "Oh — fuck. Holy fuck." He gasped with each thrust, his lips permanently parted, eyebrows pulled together as he fucked you at a steady pace. You just clung to him, nails digging into his freckled shoulders, moaning softly.

He was quiet for at least a minute, a record time, really. The only things that cut through the silence were the obscene sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt, and his hips slapping against your skin. You were starting to think it was strange, how quiet he was being. Until—

"Holy fuck, Dodo. This pussy is fuckin' kickass. Fuck... Y'know, if I didn't like you as much as I do, but someone told me I had to marry you, I'd agree in a heartbeat just to get inside you. Luckily, I like you a lot, so I'd marry you anyway, and the sex would be a sweet fuckin' bonus. Oh — Fuck." He moaned out, feeling you wrap your legs around him, pushing him deeper inside of you. "Marriage can get kinda messy, I know that because my dad left my mom for another guy. Which worked out, by the way, they're in love and it's kinda nice. But I think we could make it work for life."

You felt your face burn. It had nothing to do with his cock inside of you, but it had everything to do with his words. You had no idea what had come over him (probably the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed with Chris earlier on) but it was making you feel dizzy and warm inside, causing your head to feel fuzzy.

"Oh, fuck yeah. I'd put a ring on your finger so fucking fast. Make you mine. Show that fuckin' asshole at your work who you belong to." He growled, his hips snapping into you harsher and faster now as he thought about your co-worker and how close he stood to you and how hard he laughed at your jokes.

"...You watch me at work?" You breathed out, your nails digging into his back. You couldn't say that you were surprised. Nor did you care all that much.

"Not all of the time. But I've seen the way he looks at you and I don't fucking like it. God, I'd love to show him who you belong to."

"Dave is married, you fucking idiot. And it wouldn't matter if he wasn't because —..." You bit your lip, stopping your words in their tracks.

"Because what?"

You weren't sure why you were so hesitant to admit it. Adrian had been the only one on your mind since the night you met him. You had no interest in anyone else. Just the thought of being with anyone else made you feel uneasy. You only wanted him, and you knew he felt the same way. Hell, he had just admitted that he would marry you, make you his. Drunk or not, that had to mean something. So, you decided to be brave.

"Because I'm yours." You mumbled.

"Fuck yeah, you are." He growled out, rutting his hips into you with more purpose than before. "Tell me again."

"Fuck." You whined, "I'm yours."

"Uh-huh. Oh, god. You belong to me, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"No one's ever fucked you as good as me, right?"

"God, no." You moaned out, gripping his hair.

Adrian begged you over and over again to tell him who you belonged to, to tell him that you were his, and it wasn't long before his thrusts became sloppy. "Fuck... M'gonna cum." He moaned out, his voice cracking. "M'gonna cum. Can I cum inside? Please?"

You barely even managed to get out a 'yes' before he was releasing a string of breathless moans and curses from his lips, hips stuttering and cock twitching as he came deep inside of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against you as he hummed in contentment.

"M'gonna marry you one day. Make you mine but... for real." He mumbled against your skin. You knew it was just the afterglow talking, but that didn't stop you from grinning. Your hand found it's way to his hair, gently scratching at his scalp. "We could have babies. I'd give you ten babies at once. Wait... Is that even possible? I don't know. Maybe ten babies over a longer period of time would be more doable."

You chuckled quietly, "Calm down, tiger. You can barely look after your houseplants."

Adrian just shrugged sleepily, "Hm. True. But it would be cool to be able to buy happy meals again."

"....What?"

"Happy meals. You can only get those fuckers when you're a kid or if you have kids." He said it so seriously.

"Dude, you could literally go to Mcdonald's right now, order a happy meal and no one would give a fuck." You pointed out.

"Oh. Then ignore everything I just said about babies. Unless you want babies, then i'd be happy to oblige, because that means that I get to cum inside—"

"Go to sleep, Adrian."

He drifted to sleep with ease, but the same couldn't be said about yourself. You were awake for hours, your brain buzzing with thoughts of moving in and marriage (not so much babies, Adrian could barely maintain a peace lily, but it was nice to know that he'd want to reproduce with you). You wondered if he meant it though, or if it was just the drink or the sex talking. Either way, you laid awake replaying his words in your head.

••••••••••••••••

When morning rolled around, Adrian woke up to a pounding headache and a cold, empty bed. He lifted his head up, using his hand to feebly shield his eyes from the sun, glancing around the room for any sign of you (he figured you might have been sat in a corner watching him sleep). You weren't there, though. With a sigh, he flopped his head back onto his pillow.

The events of the night before were hazy. He remembered being at the bar with Chris, beating up some guy in a back alley only to be interrupted by you. He remembered you near enough carrying him home, kissing you, fucking you with his fingers, stuffing you full of his cock and eventually using your chest as a pillow. That was about all that came to mind. He made a mental note to avoid cocktails at all costs next time.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the bed until his feet were planted firmly on the carpet. He had no idea what time it was, but judging by the sun in the sky he assumed it had to be late morning. His first attempt to stand up ended in failure, and he found himself back on the bed within seconds. His second attempt wasn't as smooth, as he found himself stumbling into his wardrobe, his head spinning, but he managed to keep himself stood. "Holy fuck..." He mumbled. The absence of his glasses meant that he could barely see anyway, so the headache that was sending him dizzy didn't help.

Glasses. He had to find his glasses. He wasn't sure at what point in the night he had fallen off of his face. Or had he removed them and put them in a safe location that only drunk Adrian would know about? Or—

Oh.

His glasses had been neatly placed on his bedside table. The thought of you putting them there made him smile to himself. He picked them up and slipped them on to his face, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them wide, trying to adjust to his now perfectly visible surroundings. With a sigh, he picked up his boxer briefs from the floor, hopping into them as he made his way out of his bedroom, into the living room. His apartment was quiet, another sure sign that you had left earlier in the morning. He just stood there in the silence, scratching the back of his neck and stretching his back.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

He let out a yelp, almost jumping out of his skin, turning his body quickly to see you sat at his kitchen table wearing the same shirt he had given you last night and a pair of his boxer shorts, a bowl of fruity pebbles in front of you, and another in front of the seat next to you. Behind you, he noticed the pile of dirty dishes was no more, only a used coffee mug sat next to the sink. "Fuck — how long have you been there?"

"Literally the whole time." You replied, shoving another spoon of cereal into your mouth,

"Fuck. I thought you left."

"Nah, I don't have anything to do today so I thought I'd stay for breakfast. Sit." You gestured to the seat next to you.

He obliged, making his way over and pulling the chair out, flopping down with a tired sigh. The bowl in front of him was filled with fruity pebbles, too. "Milk first?" He asked.

"Yes, milk first, you fucking freak."

He spent a moment inspecting the cereal, coming to the conclusion that since the pebbles on top were dry, you were probably telling the truth. "Sweet." He smiled and dug in. As you ate quietly, the two of you exchanged glances. You had a knowing smile on your lips, whilst Adrian honestly just seemed confused. Things were... weird. Not so much tense. No, it was never tense between the two of you, and you never wanted to make it tense. He couldn't help but feel like there was something you wanted to say to him, though.

"What...?" He asked cautiously.

You shrugged, "Oh, nothing. I was just a little disappointed when I didn't wake up to a bouquet of roses, a big diamond ring and the key to your apartment on the bedside table this morning."

"Huh?" His brows were furrowed, lips parted in confusion. He truly had no idea what you were talking about.

"Oh, yeah. You really knocked it out of the park with the romance last night. I mean, you were talking marriage. And babies." You teased.

"Oh, fuck..." He mumbled under his breath. "I was?" You nodded, causing him to curse under his breath again. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to get so romantic. Fuck. I'm so — I don't know what came over me. I mean, I wanna be romantic. With you — No one else. So I guess — I guess I'm not that sorry. But I'm sorry for talking marriage and babies and all that other stuff. I didn't mean it — I swear. I can't take responsibility for anything I say when I'm inside that sweet pussy. Unless you wanna marry me, then I take full responsibility and we should go get married right now. I would totally marry you right now. I mean that. Unless you don't wanna marry me, then I don't mean that and I take it all back." He was looking at you with such sincerity in his eyes.

You weren't really sure how to respond. Your face was burning red, eyes looking everywhere but at him. You were only teasing him, only wanting him to stumble over his words so you could laugh at him. You never expected... whatever the hell he'd just said to you. "I... What—... I mean, I wouldn't say — I don't think I'd say no. But we're... we're not even dating yet."

"Yes, we are." He answered quickly.

"No, we're not."

"Really? Because in my head we've been dating since you gave me the number for your burner phone."

You scoffed, "And you didn't think to tell me that? I thought this was, like, an unspoken thing. Like, we're dating but not actually dating."

"Did I need to tell you? Come on, I know I'm not the best when it comes to this stuff, but I think me inviting you round to fuck your brains out and catch up on The Walking Dead is a pretty sure sign that we're dating. I mean, I don't even like The Walking Dead all that much, but I know you do." He touched his finger to your nose.

You let out a breath. He was right. He was right and this whole time you had been the completely clueless one. "Fuck. I'm so fucking stupid. We are dating."

"Fuck yeah, we are. C'mere, Dodo." He grinned and pushed his chair back, opening his arms. You wasted no time, straddling his lap, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

"I feel a little better about calling you my boyfriend, now." You mumbled.

He tensed up, and for a split second you wondered if you'd said the wrong thing, or if he didn't want to be called your boyfriend. But then — "You call me your boyfriend?" He breathed out, looking up at you through his lashes like that was the best news he had ever received.

"Yeah. If people ask about you."

"...Do you call me your boyfriend to your co-workers?"

You rolled your eyes, still not quite believing how hung up he was on your co-worker, Dave. "Yeah. I do. Don't worry, Dave knows I have a boyfriend called Adrian."

"Then why does he still look at you like that?" He whined.

"He looks at me normally, dude."

"No, he doesn't." He sighed, "He literally eye fucks you. Trust me, I've seen it. And I would know what eye fucking you looks like because I eye fuck you, like, all of the time. In my head, we're always fucking. And I can't help but feel like Dave's fucking you in his head. Makes me wanna walk right in there and kill—"

"Adrian Chase, you're not killing my co-worker."

".... Fine. But if I see him do it again, he'll have a hot date with Vigilante." He mumbled.

"Sure, babe."

"I'm being so serious. I won't hesitate to take that fucker out. And then, i'll bring you back to our apartment...."

Our apartment. That was a nice thought. Nice enough to distract you from the Adrian's graphic description of how he'd fuck you after killing your co-worker. Our. Our. Our apartment. You loved the way it sounded, and you decided then that you wanted a lot of 'ours' with Adrian.

#read queue #back on re-read kick

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saintedcooper · 4 months ago

Text

porn star din djarin masterlist

Most works are NSFW and contain smut. 18+ only

my queen @thepoisonofgod created this fucking masterpiece so i was like shit gotta do post with all these fics so i can show it off. idk how this crackfic started him, but now im kind of grateful.

The OG Crackfic

good taste (the serious one)

He wonders if it’s in bad taste to fuck a PA at the annual holiday party.

Drabbles/Headcanons:

Squirting

Jealous

Blow Job

Film

Too Soon

Aftercare

Bad Day

Marks

i love you

breakfast

period

anal

#this is already in the archive but I want to resurface work I really love and keep coming back to #was thinking abt this verse today and went back for another re-read #it's so good I love them #faves #din djarin x reader #fic rec

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saintedcooper · 4 months ago

Text

steam- d. taurasi

!! - long, 3180 wc, so much foreplay im sorry, english isnt my first language

!! - fingering, too much foreplay, sweat (a tad), aur naur the condensation, shower sex, begging

It’s another hot day in Phoenix, and Diana is at practice. You’re laying on the bed in your shared apartment, wearing a thin tank top and panties as you wait for her to come home.

Soon enough, the door opens, signalling that Diana is finally home. She walks into the bedroom to find you on the bed, and smiles.

“Hey, babe.” Diana grins, taking off her cap and sitting down next to you on the bed. Still in her gym clothes, she’s covered in sweat, and has a slight, salty scent to her.

“Hey.” You smile up at her, resting a hand on her thigh. “How was practice?”

She chuckles, rolling her shoulders back slightly. “Exhausting. Coach really worked us hard today.”

You nod, gently tracing your fingers along her arm as you give her a concerned look. “You’re all sweaty. Do you want to take a shower?”

She exhales deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before replying.

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

With that, she gently places her hand on your arm as well. “But I could use some company in there, you know?” She says with a smirk.

You grin, feeling a bit of excitement from her obvious invitation.

“I think I could help.” You stand up, grabbing her hand and gently pulling her up with you.

She allows herself to be pulled up and follows you to the bathroom, her hand sliding around to your hip as you walk.

Once the two of you are in the bathroom, she shuts the door behind you, her arms encircling your waist as she presses herself against your back.

“You look awfully underdressed, baby.” She mumbles into your ear, her breath warm and moist against your skin.

“It’s hot outside.” You mutter, pressing against her.

“Mhm, I know.” She presses her face into the crook of your neck, placing a few soft kisses there. Her thumbs hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging at them slightly.

“I still don’t think you’re wearing enough.” She laughs against your skin.

Her hands start to wander, slowly tracing the curves of your body through the thin material of your tank top. She kisses along your neck again, her hips pressed against yours.

It’s warm in the bathroom, and the steam from the shower is starting to condense on the mirror and walls.

Her hands move up to the hem of your shirt, her fingers slipping under the fabric as she gently lifts it up.

“Can I take this off, baby?” She mumbles, her breath hot against your ear.

With your permission, she slowly lifts up your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Her eyes rake over your body, taking in the sight of your bare skin and thin panties.

Her hands move to your hips again, her thumbs tracing over the exposed skin just above your waistband.

“Mmmm, much better.” She smirks, her hands sliding around to the small of your back and pulling you closer to her. Her body is still hot and slightly sweaty from her workout, and the press of her hips against yours is a little jarring.

“You want to help me out of my clothes too?” She murmurs, her lips next to your ear again.

Her hands continue to wander over your body, tracing the lines of your curves and leaving a trail of heat wherever her fingertips touch.

She gently nibbles on your earlobe, her breath coming in short gasps as she continues to press her hips against yours from behind.

She lets out a soft groan as you tug her jersey over her head, exposing her skin and sports bra underneath. Her chest is still glistening with a thin layer of sweat, and the air feels cool against her heated skin.

Her hands move to your waist again, her fingers now just below the elastic of your panties.

“Take these off for me, baby.” She whispers in your ear, gently tugging at the edge of your underwear.

Her lips leave a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, her tongue grazing over your skin every now and then.

“Don’t you wanna do it for me?” You gasp, staring at her through the foggy mirror.

“Oh, I definitely do.” She grins, her hands already starting to tug your underwear down.

Her lips continue to move and press against your skin, her tongue now dancing over the sensitive skin on your neck and collarbone.

She keeps slowly pulling your panties down until they’re around your thighs, leaving you completely exposed to her.

Her hands wander over your body again, her fingertips gliding against your skin.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” She whispers in your ear, her fingers tracing up your inner thigh.

“S-shower.” You mumble. “We’re wasting water.”

She laughs, taking your chin and tilting your head up so you’re looking into the mirror.

“You’re worried about water?” She chuckles, her fingers still moving over your body, “You’re more concerned about the water bill than you are about me taking you right here?”

She presses her hips against you again, her chest against your back and her breath hot on your ear.

She continues her slow, torturous kisses down your neck, her teeth tugging at the sensitive skin there. She can feel your body reacting to her touch, and that only makes her smirk even more.

“You like this, don’t you?” She murmurs, her hand moving up to your chest, “You like feeling me all over you like this, don’t you?”

Your hands find her waist and tug at her shorts, revealing the waistband of her boxers.

She lets out a low groan as your fingers find the edge of her shorts, her lips still leaving kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Patience, baby.” She whispers, placing one final kiss on your skin before stepping back a little.

She slowly peels off her shorts and boxers, letting them fall to the ground before tugging off her sports bra and wrapping her arms around you again, pressing her bare body against yours.

Her skin feels hot against yours, the press of her chest against your back sending heat through you. Her hands are back on your body, wandering over your skin as she pulls you closer to her.

She nibbles and kisses at the side of your neck, her breath quickening as she feels your body respond to her touch.

“God, baby, you feel so good.” She murmurs, her fingers tracing along your hip bone. She tugs at the hem of your panties.

“Off.” She demands softly, her fingers pulling at the elastic.

She keeps nibbling and kissing at your neck and shoulder, her breath hot and heavy next to your ear. Her hips press against yours, her body completely flush against yours from behind.

She slowly tugs your panties down, leaving you completely exposed once again. Her hands wander over your skin, tracing curves and leaving a trail of fire wherever her fingers touch.

You leads her into the shower and she follows with a grin, allowing the warm water to cascade over her skin. She lets out a soft sigh of relief as the water washes away the sweat and fatigue from her body.

Her arms wrap around you again, pulling you towards her so you’re pressed against her chest.

She looks down at you, her eyes roaming your body as the water cascades over both of you. “Much better.” She smirks.

Her hands start to wander over your body again, her fingers tracing over your wet skin as the water continues to fall over both of you.

She pulls you even closer, her lips finding your neck again as she places soft kisses along your collarbone. She moves one hand up to your hair, gently tugging on it to tilt your head back.

She grins, taking the lead and gently pressing you up against the cold glass of the shower wall. The change in temperature causes a shiver to run through your body, and you feel the press of her body against yours from behind.

Her hands move down your waist, her fingers tracing over your hips and stomach before moving back up to your chest. She pinches at your pebbled nipples and resumes her tour of your body.

She nibbles and kisses at the back of your neck, her breath hot and heavy on your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” She murmurs, her fingers still tracing over your skin as she keeps you pinned against the shower wall.

Her hips press against yours from behind, her body warm and firm against yours.

“Please,” you breathe out, “please, Dee.”

She smirks against your neck, her hands finding your wrists and pinning them against the wall.

“Please what, baby?” She teases, her teeth nibbling at your ear.

Her body is flush with yours, and the press of her chest against your back is causing heat to pool in places you’ll definitely feel soon.

“Please, touch me, Dee, need it.” You gasp out, arching into her touch.

She chuckles, enjoying how desperate you’re getting. She loves having this effect on you, loves being able to drive you absolutely wild.

“I know what you need, baby.” She whispers in your ear, her lips tracing up the side of your neck.

“And I’m gonna give it to you.”

Her hands leave your wrists, now free to roam over your body again. She starts to slide them down, her fingers tracing over your stomach and hips before moving lower.

“You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” She murmurs, her lips and teeth on your shoulder now.

“And I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Her fingers slide down to your inner thighs, gently tracing up and down your skin. She can feel the heat radiating from your skin, and it’s only getting hotter as her fingers continue their journey.

“You’re so damn responsive.” She whispers, her voice low and gravelly. “I love how easy it is to get you worked up.”

Her hands continue to explore your body, her fingertips dancing over your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She nibbles at your neck again, her teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, her fingers still tracing over your inner thighs. “You want me to touch you?”

“God, Dee, please just do it already.” You groan, resting your forehead against the glass.

She chuckles again, enjoying how eager you are. She loves watching you desperate for her touch, loves being the one in control.

“Patience, baby.” She whispers, her lips on your neck again.

“I’ll touch you, I’ll give you everything you want, I promise. But I want to hear you beg for it first.”

Her lips move up to your earlobe, her teeth gently nibbling on the sensitive skin there as her hands keep wandering.

“C’mon, baby.” She mumbles, her hands roaming over your thighs. “Beg for me.”

Your body is already arching slightly, trying to get some sort of friction from her hands. “Please, Dee.” You gasp out, your eyes squeezed shut.

She can feel the desperation in your voice, the way you’re practically begging her to touch you. “You can do better than that.” She murmurs, her fingers still tracing over your thighs.

Her lips move down to your shoulder now, her teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin. “I wanna hear how bad you want me, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

You moan at her words, the heat between your legs only getting worse. “God, Dee.” You gasp, arching your hips slightly. “I need you, please. I need you to touch me.”

Her hands keep tracing over your skin, her fingers moving higher up your inner thighs. It’s agonizingly slow, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Please, Dee, please.” You whimper, your forehead resting against the glass. “Need you to touch my pussy.”

She grins, loving how desperate you’re getting for her. It’s turning her on so much, seeing you practically begging her to touch you.

“Mmm, that’s more like it.” She murmurs, her fingers slowly moving up to your center.

She lets her fingers barely brush against your clit, just enough to send sparks through your body. But it’s not enough. You need more, you need her to touch you properly.

“Please, Dee, please.” You whimper again, arching into her touch. “I need you so bad, please just touch me.”

She can hear the pleading in your voice, and it’s driving her crazy. Knowing that she’s got you this worked up, that she’s got you begging for her touch, is such a turn-on.

Her fingers start to move against your clit again, slowly tracing circles and teasing you. “You want it, baby?” She whispers, her lips on your neck again.

Your hips start to move against her fingers, desperately seeking more friction. But she keeps her touch light and teasing, not giving you enough to really satisfy you.

“Please, Dee.” You beg again, your forehead still pressed against the glass. “I need more, please, please.”

She grins at your pleading, loving how worked up you are. “You’re so desperate for me, baby.” She murmurs, her fingers still moving against your clit.

She continues to tease you, her touch just light enough to keep you on the edge but not give you enough to push you over. “You want me so badly, don’t you?” She slips her fingers through your folds.

Your body is trembling with need, desperately wanting more from her. “Y-yes, please.” You gasp out, your hips arching into her touch.

“Please, Dee, please just touch me. I need you, I need you so bad.”

Her lips are still on your neck, her teeth nibbling at the sensitive skin as her fingers continue to tease you. She loves seeing you this desperate, loves how much you want her.

Her fingers suddenly still, causing you to let out a loud, frustrated groan. “What’s the matter, baby?” She murmurs in your ear, her voice teasing.

She pulls her hand away completely, leaving you aching for her touch. “You want me to touch you? You need it, huh?”

“Fuck, need you inside.” You whine, trying to push your hips closer to her. “Enough teasing, please..”

She grins at your frustrated whine, loving how desperate you’re getting. She knows she’s driving you wild and she loves it.

“Okay, love, I’ll stop teasing.” She chuckles.

Without any more warning, she pushes two fingers inside you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“That’s what you needed, baby?” She asks, her lips against your neck. “You needed me inside you, didn’t you?”

Her fingers start to move inside you, immediately finding that spot that makes your legs feel weak. She knows exactly how to touch you, exactly what you need. And she loves being able to make you feel good.

She nibbles at your neck again, biting down slightly. “Is that better, baby?”

You can’t do anything except gasp and moan, your body already trembling at the feeling of her fingers inside you. “Y-yes, please..” You whine, your hips already starting to move against her touch.

“God, baby, you’re so tight.” She murmurs in your ear, sucking a hickey right under it.

Her fingers start to move faster, her palm rubbing against your clit and sending sparks up your spine. “You feel so good.” She groans, her teeth on your shoulder again.

“You’re so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs in your ear, her free hand roaming over your body. “So beautiful and so desperate for me.” She crooks her fingers, hitting that spot inside you that makes your body tense up.

You moan loudly, your legs shaking as her fingers hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Fuck, Dee..” You gasp out, pushing your hips against her touch.

“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg, your head falling back against her shoulder.

“I won’t, baby.” She whispers in your ear, her fingers still moving inside you. “I won’t stop.”

She keeps up her pace, her fingers moving inside you as she sucks hickeys onto your neck and shoulder. She loves leaving her mark on you, loves knowing that you’ll be marked up by her when you leave the shower.

“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” She murmurs, her thumb rubbing against your clit. “My good girl, my beautiful girl.” She pushes a third finger in, relishing in your moans.

Your body is practically shaking now, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “God, Dee, I’m so close..” You gasp out, your eyes squeezed shut.

She kisses up and down your neck, leaving hickeys wherever she can reach. “That’s it, baby, give it to me.” She whispers, her fingers moving even faster inside you.

Her fingers keep hitting that spot inside you, making your body tense up and tremble. “Please, Dee, I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop..” You beg, your body starting to tense up in preparation.

“I won’t stop, baby, I’ll make you feel so good.” She whispers, her lips on your neck.

She sucks another hickey onto your skin as her fingers keep moving, bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

Your body is trembling with pleasure, your legs shaking and your breath coming out in gasps and moans. “I’m gonna cum, Dee, I’m gonna cum..” You gasp out, unable to form a coherent thought.

“That’s it, baby, let go.” She whispers in your ear, her fingers moving even faster inside you. “Let go for me, baby, cum for me..”

Her words combined with the feeling of her fingers inside you push you over the edge, your body shaking and trembling as you come undone for her. You cry out her name, your body tensing up and then going slack as you ride out your orgasm.

She holds you tight against her, her fingers still moving inside you as you come down from your high.

“You did so good, baby.” She murmurs, her lips against your neck. “Such a good girl for me.”

You’re completely boneless in her arms, your body still trembling slightly as you come down from your high.

She slowly pulls her fingers out of you, her hands moving to your hips to hold you up. “You still with me, baby?” She teases, her lips on your ear.

“Fuck, I’m even sweatier now.” You groan, leaning your head back against her shoulder.

She chuckles, already pumping shampoo into her hand. “I’ve got you, baby. Just sit there and let me take care of you.”

#I love this #I wish more fic let the foreplay stretch out!!#diana taurasi x reader #u: wnba #rpf: Diana Taurasi #wlw

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saintedcooper · 4 months ago

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A Game of Confession - Terzo x Reader

Papa Emeritus III “Terzo” x Reader

Summary: Terzo attempts to forgive you of your “sins”.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Reader is described gender neutrally but has a vagina. Mentions of vaginal fingering, lots of catholic imagery, ghost worldbuilding lore, mutual masturbation, edging, blowjobs, unprotected PIV (use protection irl folks!), creampies, slight breeding talk, dirty talk, Terzo talking you through it because his blabber mouth would, lots of yearning, established relationship, roleplaying innocence and confession if that makes sense, messy n wet, slight coercion, forced orgasms, glove kink/play, use of his title of Papa, degradation, name calling, rough play, hair pulling, overstimulation n post orgasm torture, very mild pain play, everything is consensual! Self indulgent PWP basically LOL not sorry !

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: For the wonderful anon who wrote to me AGES ago abt writing some stuff for ghost . . . I GOT U BABY I NEVER FORGOT U ! Anyways my catholic religious trauma absolutely came in clutch for this little work that i randomly got inspired to write , regrettably so LOLLLL anyways this is self indulgent as HELL bc terzo was my papa when i became a fan of the band and i miss him SO MUCH anyways enjoy besties !

The heels of your shoes clicked and echoed throughout the church as you approached the center aisle of the entrance. It was dark, the sun having since set that evening, leaving the stained glass windows to look as if they were covered in a sheen of ink.

The only lights that illuminated the enormous church were the thousands of candles carefully lit by the sisters of sin who cared for the church. The outside ivory wax melted, exposing the red wax core and allowing it to bleed down the many candelabras and candle holders spread across the statues and tables within the nave.

You paused for a second, looking out into the dimly lit darkness, feeling yourself shiver from an invisible chill that spread goosebumps across your skin. The church would feel unnerving if you weren’t as devoted to it.

With a quick sign of the unholy cross, you turned and tugged the black lace of your mantilla veil as you moved down the aisle, looking at the dark tiles of the floor as you moved. You turned sharply, weaving through the pews to glance at the dark wood of the confessional booth, tucked into the farthest side of the church and away from the altar in the center back of the whole building.

You paused to look at the light within the booth, on the side where your papa sits. You can see the outline of him in the flicking light, a shadow casted on the woven wood of the door as he sat there, waiting.

With a swallow sigh, you slowly approached the dark side of the booth, where the sinner would sit, carefully turning the brass knob to open it. The wood creaked loudly, making you flinch as it echoed throughout the lonely church.

Automatically, your feet shifting inside the wooden booth to sit on the velvet covered chair that greeted your vision moments prior. The door slowly shut behind you, clicking quietly.

You wrapped an arm around yourself as you shifted on the seat, looking at the kneeling bench in front of you. The silk of your robe provided you soft comfort as you glanced at the braided wooden screen that separated you from your papa and obscured him from vision.

You didn’t realize you were breathing so raggedly until you heard him chuckle, “Breathe, my sweet, breathe…”

The smoothness of his voice made you jump for a second, the familiarity creating a rush of heat through your body. With wide eyes, your body moved automatically, shifting to turn on the gas of a small lantern attached to the side of the bench, igniting the small flickering flame to allow you to see your side of the booth better.

You hiked up your robe and shifted to kneel at the bench, the soft velvet caressing your bare skin as you did so. The words came out of you, just as quickly as you were breathing earlier, “Forgive me father, for I have sinned…”

It was quiet as you sat there, chest rising and falling as you stared at the screen for anything, any noise or any reaction to your words. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the grains of the black wood, waiting.

“Is that so?” You heard him whisper, voice rumbling.

You nodded eagerly, forgetting that he couldn’t see you as you put your hands together in prayer.

“I… I have sinned in so many ways, Papa… please… forgive me…” you whispered, voice quivering.

“Tell me.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Tell me your sins, my sweet, and I shall forgive you.”

You could feel your body shaking as you knelt there, making the wood of the bench creak beneath you. Your voice had been caught in your throat, rendering you silent as your mouth opened but nothing came out.

He could sense your speechlessness, shifting closer to the screen to speak. You did the same, hearing the creaking on his side as a signal for you to come closer, your lips inches away from the divider in front of you.

He spoke, softly. Soft enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“My sweet… tell me… tell your Papa how you have made him proud…”

“Papa…” You murmured weakly, “Forgive me for what I have done.”

You felt your lips brush against the wood as you spoke, making you inhale sharply, “I have pleased The Olde One so very much so with my sins… will you ever forgive me Papa?”

You could hear the grin in his voice, “What is it that you did, my sweet? How is it that you have pleased him?”

His breath fanned over the braided wood to your side, making you gasp softly as you felt it against your lips. He was close, so close to you at that moment. If that screen wasn’t there, your lips would be inches apart and your eyes would be locked together.

“Papa…” you said weakly, your voice shaking. You were suddenly aware of the silk robe wrapped around your body, the once comfortable fabric becoming too tight, too soft, and too overwhelming in an instant.

“Tell me…” he whispered, “Tell me how you were a good little sinner for your Papa…” With a shuddered breath, you closed your eyes, knuckles pale as you gripped the bench, “Papa… I… last night I made myself cum with you on my mind…”

You couldn’t see it, but Terzo was on his knees, gripping his side of the bench with white knuckles. His fingernails dug into the wood, pushing dents into it as he eagerly awaited you to continue your words. He was holding his breath, glaring into the screen as if that would make it disappear so he could finally see you.

He could picture the way your bottom lip jutted out as you whispered your confession, eyes wide and trembling as you knelt with your hands together, uttering his title.

Just like how he liked to see you.

“I couldn’t help it, Papa, I swear! The ache… it came back and it hurt so bad… i needed to do something, it felt like torture to just sit there and read my unholy prayer book!” You cried out, voice getting louder as you continued, “I told myself I would only take a second, it will be quick, but I spent hours teasing myself with my hand, imagining it was you instead…”

With a sob, you slumped against the bench, “My fingers weren’t enough to pretend it was you, but I cried out your name as I came anyways…”

Terzo could feel his body heating up with every one of your words. One of his hands immediately went down to palm himself through his pants, hissing quietly as his hand made contact with his clothed but aching cock.

But it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough for him in the same way that it wasn’t enough for you.

The ache, the same ache you described, burned him. It made his cock leak into his briefs, leaving a wet stain on them where the tip pressed against the rough fabric. It made him wince as he became hyper aware of how the now scratchy briefs shifted against his sensitive skin, as he took in ragged breaths.

His eyes shifted down to glance at his hand, unconsciously gripping his shaft, swallowing harshly as he held himself back from bucking into his hand.

“Tesoro…” he choked out, voice deep and gravely, “Tell me how you pleasured yourself…”

On the other side of the screen, you gasped.

“But Papa…! That’s… that’s vulgar-”

“Tell me amore, tell me… if you don’t tell me the whole truth, I cannot forgive you…”

You could feel your lips twisting into a smirk, listening to his wavering voice. You couldn’t help but flutter your lashes as your hands quickly moved to push between the opening of the robe, fingertips hitting the skin of your stomach with eagerness. Your thighs were beginning to become uncomfortably sticky with your arousal by then as you dripped, remembering the other night when you stuffed yourself full of your fingers, crying out into the darkness of your candlelit room.

“Tell your papa what you did…”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, the straining he had to do to not break the stupid wooden screen and grab at your right then and there.

“Oh papa…” you began, shifting to make your voice sickeningly sweet, “I couldn’t take it anymore… I just had to slide my clothes off and bring my fingers down to rub at my aching clit…”

Terzo groans, so loudly that it feels like the whole confessional shook.

You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back a chuckle. Your hand had begin to slide down your stomach, slowly and carefully toward where you needed it the most.

“Then? Tell me tesoro, tell me please…”

He was begging now. It was just too easy to get him like this.

“I rubbed in small circles around it, pinching and squeezing. I would tease myself papa… teasing by slipping my fingers down to gather the wetness I made and use it to slide back up and around myself…” you whimpered, glaring at the screen.

He let out a strangled groan, the sound of clothing rustling makes you perk up, “Papa?”

Your fingers had stilled, just barely grazing over your clit, throbbing between your legs. Your body was on fire, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

The light on his side suddenly was extinguished, leaving you in partial darkness as your own lantern barely illuminated your side.

“Papa?”

Rustling and the creaking of wood was all you heard as you knelt there.

“Papa is everything-”

The sound of his door scraping open was all you heard, making your voice trail off. He was silent, shifting around and exiting his side of the booth, the door swinging shut with a click.

You slowly got up, knees aching a bit and legs shaking as you turned to look at your own door.

Your eyes were trained on the brass knob, watching it jiggle a bit before it slowly began to turn. You panted softly, staring as it shifted with a calculated slowness. You couldn’t even move as you watched, frozen in place as it turned and finally stopped turning.

Within seconds, the sight, sound, smell, touch, and taste of your Papa invaded your senses.

He shoved through the door, pushing himself into the already small section of your booth to shove his body against yours. The door had clicked shut, long forgotten by the time his mouth was on your own, making you moan into him.

One of his hands raced to your face, cupping it with a gentleness that made your heart soar, while the other went down to roughly yank at the knot holding your robe shut.

“Fuck this game,” he murmured as he pulled back, dual toned eyes locking with yours, “Fuck it all.”

Before you could laugh, he pushed his lips back onto yours in a sloppy kiss and you felt your robe slip like water down your arms and into a forgotten heap on the floor around your ankles.

You could only close your eyes in bliss, the messy gnashing of teeth and lips echoing in the small booth. Small whimpers escaped you on occasion, but a wide eyed muffled scream came soon after he shoved his hand between your legs, roughly parting them as his gloved hand came into contact with your clit.

You were too sensitive for the fabric, the cotton feeling too coarse against your sensitive clit. It rubbed small tight circles, similar to the ones you described to him, around your swollen bud, making your hips buck into his hand and body arch into his.

As he pulled away with the taste of your saliva on his tongue, he tutted, “Take it, take it for your Papa…”

“Papa! Too sensitive!” you choked, legs quivering as you braced yourself against the wall, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

But he ignored you, too busy watching the way your hips were grinding against his gloved hand, both enjoying and running from the rough stimulation. His fingers were already becoming drenched with your juices, making him grin.

“You like making a mess of your Papa? You like to tease him?” he growled, bringing his sticky fingers to press against your entrance, rubbing around it to feel it clench around nothing.

You could only howl at his words, head thudding as you jerked it back against the wooden wall. “You beg for forgiveness, but this is how you do it? By teasing your Papa like a little bitch who has all the power?” he spit, eyes now trained on your face as he began to aggressively circle your hole, feeling it drool onto his glove.

The hand cradling your face shifted toward your neck, large, warm, gloved fingers finding its spot around you and squeezing the sides with light pressure. You gasped out, gaze shifting from the roof back down to him.

“Terzo!” you cried.

“No, I am not Terzo, amore… I am your Papa.” he barked, cupping your pussing with his hand. The heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit, quickly drenching the fabric there too. You could only choke out a moan as his fingers at your entrance pushed in, stretching you with two of them.

You were certain that you would’ve collapsed onto the floor if it wasn't for his hand around your neck and his body partially pinning you against the wall. Every muscle in your legs ached, begging to lay down or sit on his lap but you didn’t care anymore, the only thing that filled your senses was your Papa.

The scent of candles and sex filled the stuffy little booth, grounding you enough to make you the tiniest bit aware of where you stood but not enough to distract you from the overwhelming feel of his wet glove against your cunt and his grip around your neck.

“You tease me, amore, you tease me so with these games you come up with,” he says, voice husky as he speaks lowly to you, eyeing you as if you were cornered pray in the woods, “Leave me throbbing and desperate for you… you like seeing me like this? Seeing your Papa so desperate and needy for you?”

You couldn’t respond, just crying out as his hand thrusted his fingers into you, letting the lewd squelching noise from your pussy reverberate within the room. He pushed them in, reveling in the feeling of your walls squeezing the soaked fabric as it rubbed deliciously against you.

The dual combination of the rough fabric around the fingers he fucked you and on your sensitive clit made your knees snap together, but he was quick. The second your legs began to close, he shoved his own leg between them to hold them open once more, moving his hand feverishly in and out.

“Tesoro… I need to feel you cum around my fingers…” he panted, the lantern on the floor casting heavy shadows across his face.

You could only moan and cry out as you looked at him, eyes glazing over with pleasure as you felt your body succumbing to the pleasure, getting closer and closer to the edge as he curled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you that made you feel like you were going to explode.

“That’s it, amore, cum for your Papa. Cum around my fucking fingers, drench me.” he demanded, pressing his forehead against yours.

You couldn’t take it anymore, crying out as you came around him, walls clenching with every wave of pleasure. His glove was soaked, the stickiness sticking onto him and your thighs with every thrust of his fingers. You hadn’t even registered that your hands were now gripping his biceps, fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt with every arch of your back and buck of your hips.

The pleasure that overwhelmed your senses, rolling up your body like an uncontrollable fire, was all you could perceive. It made your eyes roll to the back of your head and an uncontrollable grin spread across your face.

You howled and whined as you came down, the slowing movements of his hand making you twitch with overstimulation. You babbled, slurring your words as you spoke, “Papa… s’too much… Terzo please… no more…”

Your vision blurred back just in time for you to watch and feel as Terzo’s hand inside you stilled, letting you ride through those tremble inducing aftershocks.

His hand slowly unwrapped around your neck too, instead shifting to gently press his fingertips against your skin. His thumb gently ran over your neck, moving to your jaw before gathering the drool from the corners of your mouth to rub it over your bottom lip. He watched with sharp eyes, focused on how your bottom lip shined in the dim light.

He pulled his hand away from your twitching cunt, making you whine and buck at the overwhelming feeling of the gloved hand shifting from your wet skin.

He chuckled, stepping back a bit to watch as you trembled, still gripping him and leaning against the wall to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. It was humiliating, watching the way he looked at you with a satisfied look on his face while you stood there, wrecked.

But for him, it was torture.

Torture to stand there and watch the way you drenched him as you came, calling his name out in the darkness. Torture to feel the way your pussy clenched around his fingers. Torture that his gloves separated him from feeling your soft, gummy walls against his skin.

It was torture.

His hands moved to grip your waist, the sticky one making you whimper and shift away from it, but Terzo could only shush you as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

With eyes wide, you realized what he was going to do.

“Terzo, no!” you cried, voice scratchy in your throat, “I’m too sensitive-!”

But it was too late, he already shoved himself between your legs and licked a stripe up your sensitive cunt.

“Papa!”

“Take it for me, amore,” he murmured, looking up at you as his lips attached themselves to your clit, sucking it without a care.

You shrieked, pushing your chest up as you arched away from the wall. Your hands immediately moved to push his shoulders, to try and get him away. It was all too much, toe curlingly too much.

You bucked, moaning and whining in the delicious torture as he slobbered over you, licking up your juices as if he discovered the elixir of life and was desperate for a taste.

He groaned, sucking and licking you up, hands gripping your hips and holding you in place so you couldn't run away from him.

“Terzo!” you cried, hips jerking for one final time as he pulled away, lips and chin glistening with you as he knelt there, looking up at you.

He stood up, one hand immediately moving to grip your hair, “Get on your knees to pray, amore.”

With a heaving chest, you were pushed to your knees, nearly collapsing as you did so. You gripped his thighs as you looked up at him, staring as he made you watch him unbuckle his belt, the metal clanking loudly in your ears.

Body shivering and hands gripping his thighs, he kept his focus on his cock, the way it painfully ached under his clothes. He wanted nothing more than to stuff you right then and there, but seeing as you were so sensitive from cumming so hard moments prior, he thought he could relieve some tension and get you warmed up again all in one go.

Efficiency is key; it’s what he was taught as he went through his training to become Papa.

So here he was, one hand in your hair and the other tugging his clothes away with a hiss to let his pulsing cock spring free. It bobbed in front of you, making your mouth water at the sight of the creamy tip dribbling with precum.

His poor cock was all achy, twitching under your gaze. The way the veins bulge around the thick shaft made you widen your eyes, Terzo groaning above you in bliss as the pressure of his clothes was finally off his cock.

He wrapped his hand around the base, carefully squeezing it to let some more precum dribble out dropping to the floor between your knees. He moved his hand up, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his arousal over him, using his soaked glove and his precum lube himself up.

You couldn’t hide your smirk as you looked up at Terzo, watching him begin to stroke his length, very obviously putting on a show for you.

He shifted his hand, pulling your hair to jerk your head back and toward him. He gently slapped the tip against your cheek, “Open for me, tesoro.”

With no hesitation whatsoever, you softly parted your lips, just the way you knew he liked it.

With a satisfied chuckle, he pressed the tip onto your lips, smearing the salty precum there. He gently nudged it into your mouth, pushing your mouth wider and wider as he slid in, the warm wetness of your mouth providing him with long overdue relief.

He sighed, gently rocking his hips into your mouth without a moment’s notice, fucking himself into you. The way your soft tongue ran along the length of his cock with every movement, coating it in your saliva, made him drop his tense shoulders and let his head roll back.

“Cazzo si….” he moaned lowly, hips bucking a bit faster, making you moan around his cock. The vibrations made him groan, inadvertently bucking roughly down your throat.

You choked for a brief second, only able to cough and get your breath back when he yanked you by the hair back.

Before you could look back up at him to take him back into your mouth, his hands hooked themselves under your arms and dragged you to your feet. It was dizzying, the way he moved so quickly. One second your were kneeling on the wooden floor, knees aching and body shivering as the heat of sucking his cock invaded your core, the next you were standing, panting with shiny lips and wide eyes, and finally, you were bent over, elbows on the bench and face pressed against the wooden screen.

“Terzo… shit!” you exclaimed, feeling the soft tip of his cock pressing against your puffy lips.

He didn’t say a word, choosing to stay silent instead as he rocked his hips to slide the tip of his cock up and down your soaked cunt, swirling around your drooling entrance before moving down to nudge at your achy clit, spreading your wetness around himself.

“Can’t wait, need you, amore. Need to feel you clench around my cock, you have teased me for far too long…” he murmured, one hand gripping one of your ass cheeks to spread it, eyeing the way you clenched at his words.

“Please, Terzo, please!”

He pressed the tip of his cock, red and creamy, against your entrance, gently pushing it against it before pulling away, teasingly, “You play with your papa so evilly so… and i fucking love it.”

With that, you cried out, feeling him push his cock into you, stretching you out and filling you with pure, unadulterated bliss. You could only gasp and moan into the screen, cheek slowly getting imprinted with the braided design of the wood as you held yourself against it, nails scratching along the frame.

“You like that, amore? Feel good to be stretched by your papa? Feel good to finally be split open by my cock after weeks of this stupid little game of denial?” Terzo rambled, too lost in the feeling of your bare cunt squeezing him to focus on what he was saying.

Your knees shook as you bent over the bench, threatened once more to give out on you. Lucky for you, Terzo’s large hands immediately went to your hips, gripping them so hard that his fingertips were sure to leave bruises for you to trace later, keeping you up and in place for him.

“Take it, tesoro, take my cock,” he chuckled, focused on watching your body swallow him in. He shuddered, finally bottoming out. Your hips pressed against his own, making you sigh and whine as you felt the rough fabric and metal of his belt and pants press against your tender skin.

He snarled at your noises, “Don’t fucking whine, this is what you get for being a dirty little sinner and teasing me…”

His eyes traced your body, watching you shiver and twitch as he held you against him. With a smirk, he murmured to you, “Now… say your prayers.”

His hips snapped back, beginning to thrust out and into you, roughly. The first thrust instantly winded you, making you choke out, having not expected him to fuck into you so quickly and without warning.

But whatever grievances you had, he didn’t seem to even think about them in that moment. He just fucked himself into you, snapping his hips back before pulling you into him, meeting you halfway as thrusted into you, making you jerk back and forth.

With every thrust, you could only cry out in pain and pleasure, enjoying the way he used you and how your body reacted to everyone of his thrusts. From your fingertips clawing at the wood to your face being shoved into the screen to the metal of his belt slapping your skin with every thrust, you fucking loved it.

And frankly, so did your pussy.

Terzo reveled in the way you clenched with every thrust, pussy gripping his beefy cock like a vice as he used you like a fleshlight, all in the darkness of the confessional. With every drag backward, he could feel you tighten, almost refusing that he pull away.

“Greedy pussy, so desperate for me to fuck it, hm? You like me fucking you this way, using your tight hole like it’s a toy made for me?” he gasped out, slamming his hips back into you.

Tears rushed down your cheeks as you bit your bottom lip hard enough for a metallic taste to bloom on your tongue. It was all too good, the shocks of pleasure thrumming throughout your body with every animalistic thrust, forcing your pussy to submit to him.

Your whiny voice pleaded with him, begging him to make you cum as the round head of his cock mashed against your sweet spot. He only responded with slurred promises and unconscious latin chants, drooling as he felt himself get closer and closer too, eyes locked on your beautiful body as you thrived in the pleasure.

“Shhh amore, I will make you cum. Do not worry, my sweet, I will have you gushing on this fat cock in just a moment…”

He was drunk on you. Drunk on the way you would make sweet noises for him, singing for him better than anyone he had heard in the choir. He was drunk on the way your body swayed, covered in a sheen of sweat that made your skin glimmer in the low lighting. Drunk on you and his favorite cunt.

“Gonna cum!” you screamed, throwing your head back, eyes screwed shut as you were baptized in a pool of mind numbing pleasure.

Terzo immediately shoved his hand down, pushing his gloved fingers to your clit, rubbing it profusely as he spoke, “Cum for me, tesoro. Show me how you sin. Just like that, my sweet, what a good little sinner for me. Doing so well, taking my cock and cumming so hard, squeezing me so tight and making me feel… so… good…”

With a primal groan, he came, paying no mind to the creamy ring forming around the base of his cock or the loud squelching of you two fucking. Frankly, someone could open the door right then and there and he wouldn’t care, too focused on the way squeezed every last drop out of him.

As you came down from your high, you could only twitch and moan, feeling the warmth of his cum inside you spread in your lower belly, only exaggerating the feeling of being stuffed full to the brim. It didn't help that with every thrust as he came down, cum dribbled out of you, either dripping down to gather around your clit or onto the floor.

All you could hear was the sound of your joint panting, with the occasional low moan and whimper as your bodies twitched, spent. The feeling of satisfaction of being fucked silly began to seep into your bones, making you grin to yourself as you held your sore cheek against the screen.

“I will never do that stupid denial thing you made me do again.” Terzo murmured, accent thick through his heavy breaths.

All you could do was laugh.

#Oh!#an excuse to get in bed on time let's go ooo #read queue

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saintedcooper · 4 months ago

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dt headcannons!

diana taurasi x fem!reader

warnings: smut (minors dni)

- just like stewie, dispite how she is on the court, with you she’s a big ol’ softie

- love language is 100% acts of service with the tiniest bit of quality time

- cuddling is a gamble, if she’s had a tough game she’ll want to sleep by herself, facing away from you, but after a win she’s all over you

- but don’t take her sleeping alone personally, she’s just the kind of person who likes to reflect on her mistakes and do better next time

- big spoon energy, is rarely the little spoon

- very random, but will never tell anyone how she does her bun.

- it’s like a top secret thing, also she wont tell anyone how her hairline isn’t busted after all these years

- not a huge fan of excessive pda, but she does like to let everyone know that you’re hers

nsfw

- again, not a huge fan of public stuff, but there is a semi-public quickie before/after a game occasionally

- another strap warrior

- the strap is purple. you can’t change my mind

- she’s def a soft dom/dom, just depends on the night

- hickeys everywhere

- the facetime sex goes HARD when she’s out of town for games

- sucking the strap>>>

- she acts like she can actually feel it

- will sometimes have her hand on your throat but she won’t squeeze, she’ll just hold it there

- has the best aftercare, won’t let you lift a finger

ok guys here’s another one!! i’m locked in so maybe some more diana in an hour or two!! ily guys and keep requesting!!

#correct opinions #no notes #diana taurasi x reader #Rpf: Diana taurasi #u: wnba #wlw

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saintedcooper · 4 months ago

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I'm Home || Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin comes back from an away game.

Warnings: almost smut but not quite, dom Caitlin, sub fem!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

|*|

Her gaze made your stomach quiver as she backed you against the wall, her eyes never leaving yours. It was the way she moved so slowly as if she controlled time, your back was against the wall before she was even close to you. Her hand grabbed yours as she neared you, bringing your knuckles to her lips. She kissed them deeply before brushing them against her cheek.

“Did you miss me,” she finally asked, a slight smirk finding its way onto her features.

“So much,” you whispered, your other hand finding her cheek.

Her hazel eyes searched yours before she placed her hand above you on the wall, leaning down her breath tickling your face. You closed your eyes before opening them and finding Caitlin smiling, her eyes on your lips, and her head tweaked to the left, watching you. You should have known that your girlfriend was feeling playful.

“Fuck Caitlin, please kiss me. I’ve missed you more than you know,” you whine, leaning up to meet her lips as she backed away. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

She finally connected your lips with hers, kissing you deeply. Her hands continued to support her weight on the wall while your hands rested on her hips, her lips curling into a smile as your hands moved from her hips to wrapping your arms around her neck.

“I missed you too, pretty girl,” she breathed. “Fuckin thought about you every day.”

She moved to stand at her full height, looking down at you with a smile, her hands trailing down to your hips. Her hazel eyes stayed on yours as she lowered herself down, getting to her knees in front of you. You tipped your head back until it hit the wall, feeling her arms wrap around your waist, holding the small of your back.

You felt your shirt ride up to your bra line making you look down at your girlfriend who met your eyes immediately. She kissed your stomach while keeping her palm pressed against the center of your stomach, holding you in place. Her eyes stayed on yours while her lips continued to brush against your hip bones, her hands moved back down to the small of your back causing your shirt to fall over her head.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, just feeling and not seeing her.

You could hear her chuckle under the shirt and feel her hands wandering up and down your back.

“I missed your hands,” you admitted as your own hands found her shoulders.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.”

Suddenly, you could feel your girlfriend’s teeth graze your hip before she nipped you.

“Cait,” you cried leaning forward slightly in surprise.

She laughed once more before coming out of your t-shirt, looking up at you with love in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“No, you’re not,” you say, looking down at her with a slight smile.

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, before lifting your shirt again.

This time her teeth grazed the hemline of your shorts before allowing her tongue to wiggle beneath it. Hooking her fingers on your shorts and quickly pulling them down, holding your hand as you stepped out of them. Leaving you in your underwear.

She now stood at her full height, bringing her hands under your arms.

“Jump.”

You immediately obeyed her, hopping before wrapping your legs around her waist. Her hands found your ass and your lips found hers. Your tongues met making Caitlin smirk into the kiss, her feet on autopilot as she made her way to your shared room. Saliva dripped down both of your chins as she kicked the door open, your face becoming hotter and hotter as oxygen continued to leave your body. You could feel her muscles as they held you up, her forearms flexing as she moved.

Fuck you missed her.

“Did you watch our games,” she asked breathlessly. “Did you watch me?”

“Yeah, you were amazing,” you sighed in awe.

Her nose and cheeks were becoming red as she caught her breath, loving the fact that you were watching her. Her hands reached behind her as she pulled off her shirt, leaving her in a gray sports bra. You could see her work in the gym paying off, you could see how her lips shined with drool but, most importantly, you could see bruises from when she was fouled or when she fell.

“What,” she asked as she saw you frowning.

She looked down at her body and immediately noticed what you were frowning at.

“Baby, I’m fine.”

“But-”

“I said,” she began as she crawled over your body. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Her lips met your neck, her forearm connected with the bed to stabilize her and the other moved down to your hips, wrapping your legs around her.

“I need you close to me,” she breathed.

Your hands found her hair and you skillfully pulled it out of its signature ponytail.

“I want you close to me,” you whispered your legs tightening around her hips.

Her face got redder at that as she chuckled into your neck. Her hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

“I missed these too,” she muttered, her large hands rubbing your sides as she leaned down and kissed the skin in between your breasts.

Your hands moved down from her hair to her back, feeling her muscles ripple under your fingers made you arch into her. The way her hands felt on your skin was amazing, the way they swallowed your body with their size had you shivering at her touch. She couldn’t help but smile at the way you were reacting to her, her own stomach quivering at the sight of you.

Her teeth nipped at your skin, getting closer and closer to your nipples but always avoiding them. Your hands wondered back up to her hair before tugging lightly on the raven strands causing Caitlin to buck into you.

It was your turn to smirk now, your fingers continuing to tugg at the strands close to her scalp. That smug feeling didn’t last very long. Caitlin quickly moved both of your hands above you, leaving you very vulnerable.

“What do you think you’re doing, pretty girl,” she asked, crossing your wrists above you before going back down to your navel. “I was gone for a week and you forgot who’s in charge? That’s gotta change.”

You let out a yelp as she flipped you over and pulled your hips toward her pelvis, allowing her to bend over and whisper in your ear.

“I can’t wait to fuck you.”

#the way this crush snuck up on me 😩#caitlin clark x reader #rpf: Caitlin Clark #u: wnba #wlw

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

Text

Court chemistry??

Summary: when two players get into a little altercation and it ends in a confessing and unconventional way?

warnings: none?

It's no secret that Diana Taurasi loves to stir things up on the court. She's known for getting into altercations and drawing technical fouls quite frequently. But her most notable altercation occurred when she was facing off against the Minnesota Lynx.

The game was going smoothly for you, until you found yourself guarding none other than Diana Taurasi. As you were trying to keep her in check, the battle for dominance had escalated quickly.You had pushed her to the ground in a heated moment.

The tension between the two of you had reached its boiling point, and Diana sprang up, lunging toward you. She started shoving into you, arguing in your face.

Even as the referee approached to break up the fight, neither of you let up, continuing to push and argue.The intensity of the moment consumed you, and just as you were about to shout back at her, you felt a pair of lips press against yours for a quick peck

The kiss was so sudden and unexpected that it caught you completely off guard. Diana quickly pulled away, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at you. The crowd was confused by what had happened between the two of you.

You stood there, breathless and bewildered, staring into Diana's eyes. She had already started arguing with the ref about the foul she had gotten. As the ref came up to break you two apart and both of your teammates surrounded you, the ref flagged you both with a personal foul. Diana immediately started arguing with the ref again, while you stood there, still confused and breathless.

“What did I do?” Diana exclaimed as the ref walked away, ignoring her. Your teammates pulled you away from where you both stood. The adrenaline still pumping through your veins made it hard to process what had just happened. Diana, on the other hand, seemed to relish the chaos she had caused, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

As the game resumed, you couldn't help but steal glances at her. The kiss lingered in your mind, distracting you more than you cared to admit. Diana's smirk every time she caught your eye made it clear that she knew exactly what she was doing.

After the game came to an end and with your team winning, you headed back to the locker room with your teammates. The buzz of the game still hung in the air, but you knew the post-game interview would focus on the incident with Diana. You tried to gather your thoughts, still replaying the moment in your mind, wondering what it meant and how you would address it.

The locker room was filled with chatter, but your mind was elsewhere. You sat on the bench, towel around your neck, when one of the team’s media personnel approached you. "They want to talk to you for a post game interview, and they will most likely bring up what happened between you and Diana," she said, giving you a sympathetic look.

As you and Diana were seated together, ready for your combined post-game interview, the room buzzed with cameras flashing and murmuring. After a few basic questions were asked, the one you both anticipated came up: "Can the two of you tell us briefly what happened between you two during that altercation in the fourth quarter?"

“We were just having a little tango dance out there,” you said, trying to lighten the mood with a nervous laugh. You had chimed in again “Oh you know as I alway say she just wanted to taste some of my deliciousness.” You saying the playful comment drew a mix of chuckles and surprised murmurs from the media.

Diana’s voice cut through the room again as she joined the interview, her hair slightly tousled from the game. “What can I say? we were just trying to make some sweet love that’s about it” she said with a smirk, her eyes meeting yours for a charged moment.

The room buzzed with murmurs and scribbling pens. Diana continued, "We’re all competitors out there. Things get intense. It was just a way to break the tension... maybe a bit unconventional, but hey, it worked."

You couldn't help but laugh along with her. The kiss, though unexpected, had indeed broken the tension in a way that left everyone including you dazed and intrigued.

As the interview wrapped up, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of confusion and curiosity about Diana’s actions. The game had ended, but the moment you shared with Diana lingered, promising that this was far from over.

After leaving the stage, as you and Diana walked back to your respective locker rooms, she stopped you with a grin and asked casually, "Hey, want to grab dinner sometime?" As You look up at her and answer “id love to Diana.”

(This is my first fic I’ve wrote in a while so I hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave any requests or suggestions<3)

#read queue

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

Note

Could you do DT x reader where the reader is always court side at DT games

in the crowd.

summary : you've been going to dianas games since your college days to support your friend, but now its a wnba championship and you're on the courtside cheering her on. only this time, you two are a little more than friends

content : fluffy asf, its only angsty if you squint.

wc : 1.8k

YOU HAD BEEN going to Diana’s games since you were in college. You two met in a sociology course and she invited you to a game of hers. You had heard the rumors that she was a cocky asshole through and through, but that didn’t stop your curiosity and you went.

You knew little to nothing about basketball but you still showed up, and in Diana’s free time she always would answer any questions you had about the game. She was always just a little extra patient with you, something you appreciated heavily. She would take you out to parties and when the night was done she would hold you close as you walked back to her dorm. That cocky asshole persona was always set aside for you and beneath there was a really sweet girl who would’ve done anything for you.

There were always lingering touches and stares when she thought you weren’t looking, but you two were just friends, right? That’s what you told yourself at least.

But then life happened. Diana got drafted to Phoenix and you were so proud of her, but life for you called elsewhere. You settled down in Connecticut, text conversation had slowly come to a stop and after a while, you almost completely forgot about your UConn days with Dee. You had seen her on TV once or twice, she was always breaking records or just being an absolute baller, but no word from her.

Not that you minded, surely she wasn’t still yearning for you years later like you were? She must have surely settled down with someone in Arizona, you were a background thought for her, she had much more important things to worry about.

As you came home from work one day you did your usual routine. Come home, change, get something to eat, check your emails, etc. When you opened the mail app on your phone you were surprised to see something from Diana. The tagline shocked you,

Let me fly you to town?

From: [email protected]

But you opened it nonetheless, reading through it carefully,

“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in years. Don’t know if you use the same number so I’m emailing you, but I’ve been thinking about you and wanted to know If I could fly you into Phoenix to come watch us play in the championship, like the old times? It’s in a week. I got you a court side seat reserved and everything. Just let me know, hope to see you there.

Love, Dee.”

You couldn’t believe what you just read. She was still thinking about you? It never ended? You had been yearning for her for years, since she left, but she was doing the same all this time? You stared at your phone, completely dumbfounded, unaware of what to say in response.

On one hand, you wanted to go so badly. You hadn’t been to a basketball game in god knows how long and you missed Dee. On the other, maybe this was a bad idea. You had managed to forget about Diana and whatever crush you had on her, would it even be a good idea to dig those feelings back up?

Your fingers ghosted over the keyboard of your phone for a few moments, contemplating on what to reply with. You took a deep breath before finally typing out a reply,

“I’ll have to talk to my boss, but I’d love to come :) I’ve missed you Dee, can’t wait to see you play.”

You hit send before you could even think about it. Maybe it’ll all be worth it in the end.

You shot your boss a quick text saying you’ll need to take some time off next week and spent the rest of your night trying to not over think this.

When you woke up the next morning you had a notification from the mail app on your phone with plane ticket details. No hotel details though, strange. A smile couldn’t help but spread across your face when it was officially confirmed you were going. You were gonna see Dee again after all these years.

—

The rest of the week when by quickly, before you knew it you were sat in an airport terminal, on the track to Phoenix.

Your mind was racing the entire flight. You had given Dee your number during the week and she texted you saying she would pick you up from the airport when you landed. It was only hours til you were gonna see her again after years.

Your nerves were at an all time high when the plane had finally landed, you were chewing the inside of your cheek the entire way to where Dee was suppose to meet you.

You had stepped into the lobby and there she was, holding flowers and a smile plastered across her face. She still had that stupid slick back bun you always made fun of, but this time around she had significantly more bulk on her arms, you just about melted at the sight of that.

When you made your way over to her she took your backpack and suitcase from you and gave you a tight hug.

“I missed you.” She said into your ear, not letting up on the hug.

“I missed you too, Dee.” You said as she finally pushed away.

She held out the flowers with a smile on her face. “I got these for you, hope it isn’t too much.”

Her averted eyes and flushed face brought you straight back to college, she was always such a softie for you. "Not at all, thank you Dee." You smiled.

You two walked out of the airport, making small talk here and there, but otherwise comfortable in the silence. She loaded your stuff into her car and opened the door for you.

"So... You never sent me anything about a hotel..."

"Well... I was hoping you'd stay with me?" She asked with a grin on her face.

You laughed and rolled her eyes, she really hasn't changed. "Sly fox... Yeah, I'd be delighted to stay with you Taurasi."

She pumped her fist up in victory, proud of her own accomplishment. When you two arrived back at her house, you walked around, taking it in. It was decorated much better than the shit show that was her college dorm, a lot less frat house-y. Sports magazines littered her table and little basketball trinkets were on shelves.

Diana had disappeared into another part of the house for a bit, you weren't sure what she was up to but it gave you more time to look around.

As you were thumbing through pages of a sports magazine she came back out into the living room. "I got the guest bedroom all set up for you." She grinned, ushering you to follow her. You followed her into the guest bedroom and you were met with the flowers she had gotten you neatly trimmed and put into a vase on the bedside table and the bed made up nicely. Your suitcase was placed into the corner of the room and she even had a little snack basket sitting on the bed.

My god was she whipped for you.

"Didn't know if you still liked this stuff but, thought I'd play it safe." She murmured as she pointed at the snack basket.

"Its perfect Dee, you really didn't have to do any of this." You giggled.

She feigned offense and grabbed at her chest. "You willingly came to see me play basketball even though we haven't talked in years! Of course I had to do all this!"

"You really haven't changed." You rolled your eyes, still laughing with her.

The rest of the night went smoothly, you two drank wine and talked for hours, catching up on missed time. She made you dinner and you two ended the night on the couch, watching some old 90s movie that you weren't really paying attention to, too busy staring at the woman next to you.

Once the movie ended she got up, kissing you on the forehead. "I'm checking in for the night, I probably won't be here when you wake up, but there's breakfast in the fridge."

"G'night Dee" You mumbled, on the verge of sleep yourself.

When you woke up the next morning there was no trace of Diana, she was off getting ready for the final game tonight. She made coffee for you, leaving it to be warmed in the pot and a smile was brought to your face.

Meanwhile, Diana and Brittney sat in the Mercury office, chatting before they had to go to the shootaround. Diana had mildly explained you coming to her, but not in full detail.

"So what you're telling me, is that you flew your ex from college in to watch you play? Damn DT, didn't know you were that whipped." Brittney laughed.

Diana's face immediately flushed. "Okay first off, we never dated, she's not my ex! And it's totally normal!"

Brittney tilted her head and raised her eyebrow. "Yeah, but you're still whipped. What other gay shit did you do for her?"

Diana sighed before telling her, "I bought her flowers, and her favorite snacks, and I bought her courtside tickets out of pocket."

The taller woman next to her practically doubled over laughing.

Diana quickly smacked her on the arm. "Shut up!"

They bantered for a bit longer before being called out for shootaround.

—

You spent the rest of your day exploring Diana’s house, looking through her shelves and seeing what she got up to these days.

Once the evening time had came, you took the money Diana had left on the counter for an uber and called one. You made it to the arena and was greeting with security who walked you to your court side seat. Wow, she really did pull out all the stops for tonight.

You cheered from the sidelines as Diana ran out onto the court, she saw you cheering and broke out into smiles. Brittney shot a knowing look at her.

The game was tight, both teams trading points and it was going to be a close one. By the fourth quarter, Phoenix was down 2 points and they only had seconds left on the timer.

Diana got tunnel vision in times like these, only focusing on making that basket and taking home the win. The seconds were counting down and there she went, jumping into the air and confidently shooting from the 3 point line. It felt like the whole world had slowed as the crowd waited to see if it was going to make it in or not.

And it went in cleanly. An audible swish heard in the arena before it broke out into cheers. The entire team jumped from the bench and ran towards the middle, Diana however, ran straight towards you.

“You did it!” You grinned.

There was silence from her however, she just gave you this look of pure love before kissing you.

Her lips were soft and it’s been everything you were dreaming of since college, it was perfect.

“I fuckin’ love you.” She murmured against your lips. Her strong arms held you and tears ran from her eyes.

She had waited her whole life for this moment.

#yesss to fluffy Diana #she's a total romantic and you can't convince me otherwise #diana taurasi x reader #rpf: diana taurasi #u: wnba

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

Text

gf!diana headcanons (nsfw+sfw)

ᰔᩚ "i hate everyone but you" vibes (thats only a persona though, shes 100% the biggest softie ever)

ᰔᩚ sooo reassuring, always telling you how beautiful you are

ᰔᩚ looooves it when she catches you wearing her clothes or her jersey

ᰔᩚ when shes drunk shes so touchy

ᰔᩚ arms around your waist and kissing on your neck n shi

ᰔᩚ "youre mine."

ᰔᩚ calls you her pretty girl and her princess

ᰔᩚ gives you big time princess treatment (tying your shoes for you, always making sure you're comfortable, getting you flowers all the time, etc)

ᰔᩚ she loves it when youre at her games

ᰔᩚ always trying to 1v1 you knowing shes gonna absolutely win 🙄

ᰔᩚ golden retriever gf vibes hardcore

ᰔᩚ her strap game is crazy

ᰔᩚ she is such a munch

ᰔᩚ shows you offffff

ᰔᩚ she’s allergic to understanding social media so if you try and show her something on your phone she’s like “i don’t know what you’re trying to show me” “how does this work?”

#down bad I fear l #diana taurasi x reader #rpf: Diana Taurasi #u: wnba #wlw

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

Text

how you can help palestine

★ to the public, you and diana taurasi hated one another – you were the new, best young thing in the wnba and she was the seasoned vet – there was no other option. however, maybe that's not the whole story. ★ enemies w/ benefits ft. dt

⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. strap-usage, slight degradation and fluff, mommy kink (nothing too crazy), aftercare. might turn into a series if enough people ask for it ;)

⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 2.6k

the final buzzer sounded, showing the end of a heated game between the phoenix mercury and the las vegas aces. the aces had come out strong and won, the crowd's roar echoed through the arena. the players were a mix of exhausted and exhilarated, their emotions raw and visible. you were standing with your teammates, and you couldn’t resist the chance to bother diana, the vet whose shadow you were often compared to.

as the players began to mingle and exchange the usual post-game pleasantries, you approached taurasi with a sly smile. "tough game, huh?" you say, your voice loud enough for those nearby to hear. the grin on your face was deliberately infuriating.

diana turned to face me, her eyes narrowing. she was still catching her breath, sweat trickling down her face, but her competitive spirit was undiminished. "yeah, well, you win some, you lose some," she replied coolly, but the irritation in her voice was unmistakable.

"guess you’re losing more than winning these days," you continued, the taunt coming easily.

the rivalry between us was well-documented, and the media loved to play it up. they thrived on the narrative of the veteran versus the rising star, and moments like this only fueled the fire.

diana's eyes flashed, and for a moment, you thought she might lash out. instead, she stepped closer, her voice low so only you could hear. "you really want to do this here, now?" she asked, the edge in her tone making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for games.

the intensity in her gaze gave me pause, but you weren't about to back down. "why not? it's not like we’re friends," you shot back, keeping my voice just as quiet but no less pointed.

"oh trust me sweetheart, being your friend is the last thing on my list," she spat as she looked me up and down.

your lips quirked up into a smirk. "good, cause i'd hate to be disappointed."

diana's eyes narrowed further, but there was a spark there, something more than just anger. "really wanna start this now, princess? sure you can handle it,"

the tension between you two was palpable, that neither of you could deny, even if you wanted to. as the crowd began to disperse and the arena started to empty, you both knew how this would end.

you hated that nickname, "princess" – it seemed everyone and their mom liked using the fact that you're a young, rising star to belittle you. not to mention you've gotten quite popular with media, nicknamed the wnba's princess.

however, you wanted to see how far you could push diana.

"see you around, taurasi," you said, turning away with a casual wave. but you didn't get far before you felt her hand gripping your arm, stopping you.

"not so fast," she said, her grip firm. "we're, not done here."

you raised an eyebrow, looking back at her. "oh? got something else to say?"

her eyes held yours, and for a moment, it was as if the rest of the world faded away. "you know where to find me," she said, her voice low and unmistakably suggestive.

later that night, under the cover of darkness, you found yourself outside her house. you knocked, a part of you wondering if this was a terrible idea, but the larger part of you knowing exactly why you were here. the door opened, and there she was, the same fierce determination in her eyes that she had on the court.

"get in here," she said, pulling you inside. the door closed behind you, and the air between you crackled with unresolved tension.

before you could say anything, her lips were on yours, urgent and demanding. you kissed her back with equal fervor, the line between hate and desire blurring rapidly. it was always like this – a collision of raw emotion and physical need.

you pushed her against the wall, your hands tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. she responded with a growl, her fingers digging into your sides. it was a battle, a struggle for dominance, but that was part of the thrill – and at the end, you both knew who would win.

her hands found your hair, pulling it just enough for you to let out something in between a yelp and a moan. "wanna test me right now, princess?"

you couldn't help but smirk at the challenge in her voice, the nickname "princess" now tinged with a hint of admiration rather than mockery.

"always up for a challenge," you replied breathlessly, your own hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer.

diana's lips curved into a wicked smile as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "good," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "cause i plan on making you remember who you're dealing with."

with that, she kissed you again, fiercely and hungrily, her tongue sliding against yours in a dance of desire and defiance. the air was thick with tension, the room alive with the sound of ragged breaths and quiet moans. clothes were discarded in haste, each move driven by an unspoken challenge to push the other to the edge.

you backed her towards the bed, your hands exploring every inch of her body as if trying to memorize the feel of her beneath your touch. diana responded eagerly, her nails grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. it was a clash of wills, a battle of dominance, but in the midst of it all, there was an undeniable attraction that neither of you could deny.

she pushed you on to the bed, you sat down and looked up at the older woman – her slicked-back bun, her slicked-back bun starting to come undone, wisps of hair framing her determined face. there was an intensity in her eyes that made your heart race, a mix of challenge and desire that left you breathless. you watched as she stood over you, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, the air between you thick with anticipation.

she gripped your face, pulling it upward so she could fully watch you. "didn't like that attitude earlier princess, do i need fuck some politeness into ya?"

her words sent a shiver down your spine, the mixture of dominance and desire igniting something deep within you – diana always seemed to have that effect on you. "maybe you do," you shot back, your voice trembling with a blend of defiance and arousal.

diana's eyes darkened, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. "again, with that damn tone. didn't i tell you to fix it?"

her voice was a low, dangerous whisper, the threat behind her words only heightening your arousal.

"guess i'm a slow learner," you replied, your voice shaky but filled with a defiant edge.

diana's grip tightened on your face, her nails digging slightly into your skin. "then i'll have to teach you a lesson you won't forget this time, huh princess?"

without warning, she captured your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp. she pushed you back onto the bed, her body pressing down on yours, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. the weight of her, the strength in her grip, was intoxicating.

"you think you can handle this, princess?" she murmured against your lips, her voice a mix of challenge and desire.

"try me," you shot back, your own voice breathless with need.

diana's smirk widened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "oh, i will, honey. i will,"

the next few moments were a blur of heated kisses and urgent touches, your bodies moving together in a franticly with need. she moved with a fierce determination, her hands and lips exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. it was a battle for dominance, each of you pushing and pulling, trying to assert control even as you surrendered to the her touch.

diana got up for a second, a disappointed moan coming out of your lips before she sent you a warning glare. when she came back, she had exactly what you were waiting for – her treasured strap (or as dee liked to call it, her dick).

she moved with a predatory grace, climbing onto the bed and straddling you, her hands pressing you back against the mattress. diana tore at your clothes, the sound of fabric ripping adding to the intensity of the moment as you let out a small whimper.

her hands roamed over your bare skin, her touch alternately rough and tender. she always knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, to drive you to the brink and pull you back again.

diana leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy. her hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if trying to assert her dominance. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into her skin, pulling her closer, the need to feel her overwhelming.

"dee," you whimpered as her lips moved to your neck, her teeth grazing your sensitive skin in a way that made you shiver.

her hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as she positioned herself between them, her eyes locking onto yours.

diana's smirk widened as she aligned her strap, teasing you for a moment before pushing in slowly. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that only heightened your arousal.

"oh fuck, dee." you moaned as one hands moved to your hips, the other quickly found itself on your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, you felt whole again – despite the earlier pain, it felt good now.

"you like that, princess?" her gaze lingered on your face, taking in every expression, every sound, every little thing you did.

she waited for response and when she didn't get any, she gave your neck a squeeze, a moan spilling out of your bruised lips. "y-yes, mommy."

she let out a throaty laugh at that, shaking her head. she wouldn't admit it anyone – except you – but she liked the pet name and the sound of your voice dropped down to her pussy.

"fuck, baby," she rasped out as her head fell back. you gasped, your hands clutching at her shoulders, nails digging in as she began to move.

her thrusts were deliberate, controlled, driving you to the brink and pulling you back again. diana watched you closely, her eyes dark, the connection between you was unyielding. she leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your moans as she continued to move inside you.

the rhythm of her movements was relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your body responded to her with a need you couldn't control, arching against her, meeting each thrust with desperate urgency. the filthy sounds filled the room, a symphony of gasps, moans, and the slap of skin against skin.

"mommy, please," you whimpered, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of release.

"oh now you wanna be all polite, huh princess?" she growled, her pace quickening, her grip on your hips tightening as she drove you further into a frenzy. "wanna hear you beg."

"please!" you gasped, the word barely more than a whisper as you clung to her, every nerve in your body on fire. "please, mommy, need it."

her eyes flashed with satisfaction, and she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "that's more like it," she murmured before increasing her pace, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink. "good fuckin' girl," she praised.

when your release finally came, it was explosive, your body arching against hers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. diana didn't let up, riding you through your climax, prolonging the intense sensations until you were completely spent, trembling beneath her.

she finally slowed, her movements becoming gentle as she helped you come down from the high. she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin as you caught your breath.

"better?" she asked, her voice softening, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"mhm," you replied, your voice weak but nonetheless satisfied. you looked up at her, seeing the same mix of satisfaction and maybe a hint of affection in her eyes. "always know how to put me in my place."

diana chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "and you always know how to push my buttons, sweetheart."

she cleaned you up, a care that contrasted sharply with the intensity of your previous actions. diana's touch was gentle as she wiped the sweat and remnants of your passion from your skin. the intimacy of the act sent a different kind of warmth through you, one that was softer, more enduring.

as she finished, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "you should get some rest," she said, her voice a gentle murmur. "you're leaving early tomorrow,"

you nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and contentment. "mmm, you're right."

diana helped you get comfortable, adjusting the pillows and tucking the blanket around you. it was a rare moment of domesticity between you two, a fleeting glimpse of what things could be if circumstances were different.

"will you stay?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely more than a whisper. it was a vulnerable question, one that you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer to.

if you were at your place, she'd usually leave and if you were at her's, she'd usually sleep in the guest bedroom. however, for some odd reason, tonight felt different.

she hesitated for a moment, her expression softening as she looked at you. "just a little while," she finally said, climbing into bed beside you.

you turned to face her, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt both familiar and comforting. diana wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, her warmth enveloping you.

"you know this doesn't change anything," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

"i know," you replied, your voice equally soft. "but maybe, just for tonight, we can pretend it does."

she didn't respond, but the way she held you, the way her fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, told you that she understood. for now, in the quiet of the early morning, you could both set aside the rivalry, the competition, and just be.

when you awoke, you both lay there for a while, the early morning light casting a soft glow over the room. eventually, you knew you had to leave. as you got dressed, diana watched you, her expression unreadable.

"good luck with the next game," diana said, her tone neutral but her eyes betraying a hint of something more. "i'll be watching it," she added, her voice tinged with amusement (and maybe a bit of mockery).

"me too," you replied with a smile. "try not to get a tech next game,"

she rolled her eyes as she waved you away, pushing the covers over her face. you laughed, getting out of the room and walked toward the door.

and you stepped out into the early morning light, you couldn’t help but smile again. whatever this was – enemies, rivals, lovers – it was yours and diana's alone, a secret game played in the shadows, far from the prying eyes of the public. and for now, that was enough.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

#read queue

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

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Feeling so blessed 🥹

Feel It || Diana Taurasi x Reader

Drabble

Warnings: smut, top!diana

Word count: .3k

|*|

“Can you feel it, carino,” she grunted as she leaned over, her chest coming into contact with your back. “Hmm?”

Your sopping wet core sucked in Diana’s strap as its vulgar noises echoed off your shared bedroom. It was a maddening contrast to the soft kisses she gave your shoulder. The scent of her cologne mixed with the smell of sex only filled you with a desperate need to be close to Diana. With each kiss on your shoulder, a jolt of electricity shot through your body, igniting a fire deep within your core.

Her hips never stilled, hitting the backs of your thighs and leaving a satisfying sting that she knew would tingle afterward. She straightened up, and her large hands gripped your hips and forced them to meet hers. She loved seeing your hips and thighs jiggle when she thrust.

“Tell me,” she demanded softly, stilling. “Tell me where you feel it.”

The only sound that came out of you were whines, and she watched as you began to fuck yourself onto her strap, witnessing your blatant need and lust for her. She craved your need and drank it in happily.

A freckled hand reached around and grasped your neck gently, bringing your torso up to her chest. Her other hand wrapped around the front to hold your tummy, bringing you even closer to her.

“I asked you a question,” she whispered, kissing your neck. “You’ve been so so good, baby. Don’t make me be mean.”

She squeezed your neck slightly, letting you know she meant it, sending sparks of delight and fear down your spine.

“I feel you here,” you finally gasp, placing your hand above hers, on your tummy, and letting your head rest on her shoulder.

Diana felt jolts of pleasure in her core at your answer and as you sat on her lap, she could feel your juices leaking out and soaking her thighs.

“Good,” your wife sighs, grinding into you, her voice resonating within your chest. Her hand slowly slid down to the space between your thighs as she smirked wickedly. “‘Cause that’s where I’m gonna be for the rest of the night. Need to show you how much I appreciate you for being my little cheerleader.”

#this is so good pls write more DT #I read this four times in a row lmao #ugh #diana taurasi x reader #rpf: Diana Taurasi #u: wnba

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

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Petrichor - Part I

Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader - fluff, rainy days, burgeoning friendship Terzo is feeling introspective on a rainy day. Perhaps he doesn’t have to spend it alone?

“What do you think Terzino, eh? Should Papa play tonight?” Terzo watches with a lazy smile as the tuxedoed cat jumps from his perch on the window to settle into his lap. Long fingers stroke delicately through plush fur as he heaves a sigh. “You will be getting hair on my pants, you rascal.”

Terzino blinks slowly, a rumble starting deep in his throat the more Terzo gives him attention. The cat’s nails dig into Terzo’s leg as the little thing gets more comfortable, the man giving a small grimace but making no move to push the cat off. “You know, I am thinking I am getting old.” Terzo glances down at the cat and scoffs. “Ah, do not try to argue. I have more grey hair than I can keep up with.“ He lifts a hand to his neck, his fingers brushing the soft, loose skin. “And may have to consider turtle necks.”

Terzino stands and stretches, his little body shivering, before turning and lying toward Terzo’s knee, facing away from him. “Ah, Terzino, if you turn from me too, I will not know what to do,” Terzo sighs, lifting a hand to drag his fingers through his wavy, black hair. “The Siblings, they like the power. What little I have of it, ha. But one can close their eyes and think of someone else. Do they think of someone else?” His brow furrows, and he glances out the arched window, eyes scanning the manicured lawn. “Perhaps I should take up gardening like il mio fratello.”

He glances down amusedly. “Sì, you are right, amico. I am far too much of a masochist to change my ways now.”

Terzo carefully picks the cat up and places him down, standing from his desk and swatting at his pant leg until most, but not all, of the cat hair is gone. The tinkle of Terzino’s bell sings through the room as he trots away, perhaps to play with one of Copia’s little companions. Terzo places his hands on his hips, looking out the window once more. “I think it is going to rain.”

ᰔᩚ

It was luck, finding this place. The way his shoes clack against old stone, the gilded candle holders on the corridor walls covered in wax from wicks long burnt. Stained glass of varying shades of purple, red, blue, and green. There were some renovations made when the Clergy first purchased the building half a century ago. Cracks filled in the walls, ceilings reinforced, foundation repaired, but they ultimately chose to maintain its old warm charm. This place may have a Catholic history, but Terzo did not view that as bad, or something needing to be cleansed. There was an energy in these old walls, full of the stories of residents long passed who prayed, and hoped, and dreamed for a better tomorrow. It would not do, he thinks, to forget that. No matter if their god was above or below.

The corridor leading from his office transitioned into a breezeway, four pillars covered in the delicate drawings of one of their more artistic Siblings opened into one of the inner courtyards. A perfect place to watch the rain. A crack of thunder rolls across the sky, and Terzo glances up at the swirling clouds, leaning his shoulder against painted vines. It seems, however, that he would not be alone with his thoughts this storm.

You sit on a stone bench just under the roof, your legs pulled up, arms resting on your knees as you hold a cup of tea in your hands. There’s an open book at your feet, and Terzo catches a glimpse of a few words which makes him arch a brow. “Hello,” he says, his accent curling around the words. “You know, I have heard it be called very dirty words, but never ‘velvet wrapped steel.’ That is a new one.”

You glance up, your lips quirking in a half smile. You cross your legs and lean forward, setting your bookmark between the pages and closing your book. “Sort of makes you feel like you’re grabbing a stick shift in an old car.”

Terzo pauses for a moment, just looking at you, before he tilts his head back and laughs. A deep, belly laugh, dragging out the final note with a shake of his head as he leans forward. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue. “That is very funny. Yes. Well, sometimes it is like handling a stick shift. Satan forbid you stall.”

“Pfft,” you snort and shake your head, your smile growing. You glance up at the sky as another rumble of thunder echoes overhead. Pinpricks of rain dot the ground, ever so slowly increasing. “Come to watch the rain, Papa?”

“It appears we had the same idea,” he nods, watching intently as the rain flicks the leaf of a plant growing in the little garden some of the Siblings tend to. “Perhaps you intended to watch the rain alone?”

“I intended,” you say, tilting your head a little as you regard him with a curious air. “But this is better.” Terzo glances back at you, his heavy brow slanting down. He takes a few steps toward you, slow and deliberate. You take a moment to glance over him, appreciating the slacks, loose black button up, and the brocade evening jacket draped over his shoulders.

“Better how?” He asks, his voice genuinely curious. “And what is that look for, eh? Admiring Papa?” It wasn’t just a superficial question. She could see his face, a rare sight without the paint, the lines deepening around his mouth. His strangely beautiful eyes burn into yours and you understand that he’s serious. It isn’t playful banter.

“I don’t get to talk to you,” you answer truthfully, sincere in the small smile you give him. “Your attention is usually taken, and I understand that there are more Siblings in this building than clergy. You can only get to so many people.” His frown deepens, and you continue. “So it’s nice. It’s nice to talk to you. I want to watch the rain with you.”

“Cara mia, you can request time, you know this, sì? I have office hours. Please do not be thinking you cannot come to me,” Terzo talks with his hands, his fingers waving in the air, punctuating his words. He looks so concerned, his body angled toward you, features twisted in worry.

You huff a laugh, shaking your head as you adjust on the bench. “I’m okay, Papa, really. I just mean I can’t come by to say hello, or make an appointment only to chat.”

“Why not?” Terzo shoulders rise and fall and he stands with one foot forward, hands on his hips. “You are more than welcome to come and say hello. Antichristus, and here I was thinking I come on too strong. Unless, that is the problem?” He looks at you, and you have to smile from the sheer befuddlement on his face. But you can tell, also, that he’s hurt. And that doesn’t make you feel good either.

“No. Papa-“

“Terzo,” he corrects you, sitting down at the end of the bench next to your feet. He rests his hands on his legs and gives you his full attention, and it’s altogether exhilarating and nerve-wracking. You’ve never spoken to a Papa like this, for this long, outside of anything that really has to do with your duties or other Ministry matters. It makes you blush, and Terzo takes notice, leaning a little closer to watch the pink pass over your cheeks with great interest. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“I would explain if you let me get a word in,” you say, not unkindly, your lips pulled into a gentle smile. Terzo chuckles to himself and nods, waving a hand in your direction, and then he pinches his fingers and pulls them across his lips in a zipping motion. “Thank you,” you continue lightly, laughing. “What I mean to say is, yes, I’m nervous. And it’s not for reasons you think. I don’t think you’re unapproachable. I don’t think you would show me any unkindness or give me reason to believe you aren’t totally invested in what I have to say.”

Your eyes pass over his face, taking in his dark features, and you briefly wonder why he doesn’t wear his paints less. His face is aging to be sure. Pocked and marked and wrinkled, but he is so expressive. So soft in the curve of his mouth. The way his lashes brush his cheeks when he blinks. His white eye, meant to be intimidating, reminds you of freshly fallen snow. The warmth of a cup of hot chocolate on a winter’s day near Yule. It was truly beautiful, and you realize you’ve stopped talking.

But Terzo doesn’t move. He doesn’t prompt you to continue, he just stares back. The rain falls around you in heavy drops, a steady stream that wets the ground and mists your faces as it bounces off the stonework.

“I think I would fool myself into thinking that we could be friends,” you finish, your voice soft, caught in some kind of new understanding, a breath of realization. Terzo tilts his head very slightly, and he pulls in a sigh.

“Friends,” he murmurs, as if the word is foreign to him. His eyes fall away from yours and he focuses on nothing as he processes your words. And then he’s looking back at you and smiling, and it only occurs to you then that you’ve never quite seen his smile reach his eyes the way it does now. “Not many peoples wish to be my friend, dolcezza.”

“You are very frequently surrounded by people.”

“Yes, but what is that saying, eh? You can be in a room of people and still be alone. I am an old man, as much as I cover this face,” he gestures to himself. “Or dye my hair. I have my brothers, sì, but they are not so understanding at times. It has been many years since I have had someone who I can talk to as Terzo and not as Papa.”

“Someone your own age?” You ask quietly, expecting rejection.

His lips soften. “Not necessarily.”

You smile, and look out over the courtyard as thunder once more cracks overhead. The scent of rain and wet soil fills your nostrils, and you feel very at peace. For a moment your heart is full sitting next to this man. “I’m a Sibling, and I know I’m supposed to act a certain way around my authority figures. But sometimes when you’re giving a sermon, or I see you at events, or feast days, I just want to know if you think the potato salad is as delicious as I do, or if you wished whoever was in charge of the playlist would stop, for the love of all that’s unholy, playing Cruel Summer.” You laugh, and Terzo laughs with you. “I want to know who you are, and I don’t know if that’s okay.”

Terzo taps your shoe with an amused smile, and he looks happy. He looks like you just told him he won the lottery, his eyes sparkling with a kind of glee. “You know, just this morning I was talking to Terzino about this very thing. He said I should be more open. Open to change, which I scoffed at. Papa cannot change, not now. Not so late in his life, yeah? But…” He reaches a hand out into the pouring rain, watching the water cascade over his skin. “Rain renews. And I think I am ready for something new.”

He brings his hand back in, and grasps yours, a few droplets falling between you onto your closed book. “It is more than okay, amica. Now, tell me about this smut.”

You squeeze his hand, your fingers sliding over his slick skin. You smile. “Your cat talks to you?”

Terzo pinches the top of your hand and you gasp, swatting at him. He laughs, low in his throat, a wild brow arching. “Shush.”

#read queue

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

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longing - papa emeritus iv x f!reader

at a certain moment during a performance, copia thinks of you.

a/n: the mic holder fingering will always be in my thoughts. 1.1k words. fingering, obviously. 18+! mdni! ao3 link.

He had done it again.

Every night he loses himself, a brief moment where his mind wanders off beyond the crowd, beyond the crushing responsibility of furthering the the Clergy agenda. Copia thinks of you. He closes his eyes and feels the music, drawing in a sharp gasp as his hand drifts up the mic stand. You’re so far away back at headquarters with your own duties. It hurts for him to be away this long. He misses how soft you feel in his arms, how you laugh at his really dumb jokes and the more suggestive sounds you make when he touches you in just the right spot.

Copia’s finger pushes into the mic holder and fingers it, eyes squeezed shut and lips parting at the thought of it being between your legs. The roar of the crowd brings him back down to earth, back down to the moment. Eyes shoot open and he wrenches his finger from the mic stand, a mix of shock and disgust on his face. He’s learned to play it up because of how often it happens. He thrives in front of a crowd but after being away so long he yearns to be back in your bed, buried under the covers with an old movie on the tv. A quick turn and he’s marching back off stage with the ghouls wrapping up the song.

Long, slow exhale as he walks up to the golden mirror, taking a moment to regard himself. He smoothes out his jacket and fidgets with his cravat when he’s distracted by a figure in the mirror behind him. A gasp! And then he gives noises that can only be described a Copia noises when he realizes it’s you. Oh, it’s you. He’s on you so quickly, boney arms wrapped around you and pulling you in close. Heart is pounding in his chest as he continues making excited noises until the words finally come out.

“I was just thinking of you.” Copia is breathless, burying his face in your hair to drink in your scent. How he missed you so. He’s nearly trembling, overcome with deep love and affection for you.

“You’re doing so great, Copia.” You whisper and hug him back just as tight. “I… I don’t want to distract you, though. I can wait in the wings until you’re done for the night.” He feels you start to move away from him but he tightens his grip to keep you firmly in place.

“Nononono. Stay here.” Copia runs a gloved hand through your hair. “I eh, have some time.” He leans back to look at you and my god, does it stir something primal and deep inside of him. Thoughts flit back to the mic stand. “I have something to show you, actually.” He hums and takes you by the arms and pulls you off into a dark corner of backstage. His heart pounds in his chest. There’s not much time but he can’t let this moment with you slip away. Once he has you out of view his mouth finds your earlobe, catching it with his teeth as his hands desperately paw at your clothes.

“P-papa!” You squeal as his lips travel down your neck.

“Shhh-shhh, amore. They mustn’t hear us.” Copia huffs and nips just below your jaw. You gasp as his hand slips down the front of your pants and he takes a breath to lean back, taking in your wide eyes and how your breath quickens with a groan. You are so delicious he can hardly stand it. “I’ve longed for you. Every night I think of you, wishing I could touch you again.” His voice cracks and he presses his forehead to yours. You’re speechless. Copia’s fingers toy with the hem of your underwear, humming in approval at the wetness that pools through the thin fabric. He pushes the fabric aside and slips a finger inside your slick folds.

Your mouth drops open in a low groan that Copia quickly swallows with his own lips. Both sighing together, with him peppering you with slow, deliberate kisses as he works another finger inside. He stretches you open and sinks his fingers as deep as he can, languid strokes that make your toes curl in your shoes. You want to cry out, to moan and huff but you can’t — you can see some movement behind him, the stage crew doing their jobs of moving equipment and instruments. Copia’s other hand snatches you by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Stay with me, amore.” He hisses against your lips before claiming them with a fiery, possessive kiss. Tongue invades your mouth, drinking in all of your sighs and moans. He thrusts his fingers inside of you at a rough pace, curling them once they’ve sank in as far as they’ll go. Your knees start to buckle, core impossibly tense from how he tears you into pieces. Nails dig into his black jacket, gasping into his mouth while half-lidded eyes meet his mismatched gaze. A growl rumbles up from Copia’s throat. He loves seeing you like this, utterly under the spell of his skillful fingers.

“I-I’m here.” You choke out, breaking away from the kiss but tugging him in closer so that your noses touch.

"Va bene." Copia whispers back, his voice a soothing balm over your senses. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm, drawing you ever closer to the precipice. Your breath hitches, body trembling as he coaxes you towards a shattering release. The world narrows down to just the two of you, lost in each other, hidden in the chaos backstage. Heat rushes to your face and spreads throughout your body until it’s too much to take. Your body convulses and a shattered cry falls from your lips, your climax overtaking you. He groans in approval, pressing slow kisses to your temple and then down your cheek before ending with one unbelievably tender kiss to your lips.

“I must return to the stage, amore.” Copia muses as he pulls his fingers from you. He brings them to his nose, taking a long whiff of the heady scent before licking the slick off his gloves. “I am… so happy you are here.” You see that twinkle in his eyes that made you fall hard for him in the first place. He cups your face, thumbs stroking along your cheekbones to soothe you from your high. You take him by the wrist, a shuddered breath leaving your lips.

“Burgers after?” You manage to crack a smile between huffs. His face lights up and he pulls you in for a warm hug.

“Burgers and fries, baby.” Copia plants one last kiss to your cheek and gives you a squeeze before skipping off to back to the stage.

#love love love #c: papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #u: the ghost band #papa emeritus x reader #the band ghost

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

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You Will Never Walk Alone pt. 1

Chapter 1: PROLOGUE

⛧🜏 Click here to read 🜏⛧

Shoutout to @ghelullu for the encouragements, idea pin-balling and art fuel that inspired some scenes that will pop up from time to time! Shout out to @phantasmicscribe for the summary as well as your help when I needed to bounce ideas over a Tim's coffee lmao. And for everyone else, who has been waiting so patiently for this to finally start getting posted, I really hope the wait will be worth it!

Story summary:

Desperate to leave behind a life of feeling alone, Copia follows the lure of the enigmatic golden gaze that has always made him feel safe, appearing to him in his moments of need. But even when Copia's call leads him to the safety of the Ministry, he discovers that his apparition isn't done with him yet. He finds himself set on a path far beyond his mortal imaginings, his heart torn between following the unholy light of his Lord and succumbing to the temptations of the one they call Papa Emeritus III.

However, as Copia struggles with his secret desires, he will realise that he isn't the only one keeping secrets…

⛧

Finally, I'd like to mention that so far I only have 12 chapters written. Thus, we may reach a point where updates slow if and when my mental health dips. But I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

#with a rec like that how could I not #read queue #and I love copiiia don't at me

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

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Champagne Kisses

Papa Emeritus III x Femreader x FemOC | NSFW | 3600~ words

this one is for the bisexuals!!! 🩷💜💙 happy pride month everyone :) warnings: pwp, threesome, m/f/f, fingering, pussy eating, blow jobs, pinv sex, facials, cream pies, cum eating, all the bodily fluids, unsafe sex, unnamed oc photo source here

The smooth gloss she was wearing doesn't feel much different from Papa’s grease paint you think, sucking on her lower lip until she gasps into your mouth. You had been kissing sometime now and you can imagine the mess your desperation has made of both of your faces. The angle is a little awkward, leaning over Papa where he is sitting between you at the end of the bed but you manage to work your hand between you and up her top until you can tease her nipple through the thin lace of her bra.

Papa lets out a low moan of appreciation at her reaction to your attentions as he encourages you both, his gloved fingers woven into your hair. He loves watching you like this, giving and receiving pleasure under his guidance. You pull back for a moment to catch your breath taking in her smudged make up and blissed expression. The night had barely even begun and you already had her lost in pleasure, subject to your and Papa’s mercy.

He let’s go of you for a moment reaching for the half full bottle of champagne you had been ignoring in favour of each other, bringing the neck of the bottle to your joined lips. He pours a slow stream between you, all but a few errant drops caught in your panting mouths. You follow the sticky trail down her chin with your tongue, kissing your way back up to swallow her gasping moans.

‘How does she taste amore mia?’ He whispers in your ear just loud enough for you both to hear.

‘Like champagne Papa.’ You can feel the last of the bubbles still tingling on your tongue from the mouthful you had shared and you crave more leaning in to close the space between you and capture her lips once more but his grip firm in your hair makes you pause.

‘I do enjoy champagne,’ his voice is so low you can feel it rumbling through his chest and then you get a front row seat to Papa taking his taste. He tips her head towards him until she is perfectly angled for him to capture her parted lips. A kiss from Papa is all it takes to steal the breath from your lungs and the sense from your head and it seems she is not immune either, leaning heavily on you both as Papa deftly seeks out the last traces of champagne in her mouth. Her eyelids flutter rapidly as she enjoys his undivided attention, her hand even leaving you completely to grasp his neck, the tips of her fingers digging into the hair at his nape.

A whine leaves you involuntarily, not wanting to lose both their attention completely. Papa chuckles into her mouth but doesn’t stop. He catches your eye, glancing sideways and watching your desperation build, almost daring you to act. You are unsure whose attention you want more but your mouth waters as you watch them together. Finally taking matters into your own hands you push her top up until you can cup her breasts in both hands but even the thin lace between you feels like too much. You make short work of clasps until her soft skin is bare against your hands and her sensitive nipples squeezed between your fingers and she is shuddering against Papa.

She breaks their kiss, her mouth falling slack and her eyes blinking slowly at you as you continue your teasing. She is beautiful still even with the black and grey of Papa’s paints adding to the mess on her face. You squeeze more firmly until she falls back into you with a moan, licking and sucking sloppily at your lips until you open them for her. Distractedly your hands slide to her waist until you can pull her firmly against you but another disappointed whine slips from you when the layers of clothes between you prevent you feeling her skin against yours. He squeezes the back of your neck, chasing the shivers down your spine with his fingers and drawing your attention back to him.

‘Ready for more, mie principesse?’ His intense mismatched eyes flit between the two of you, eagerly anticipating what was to come of your evening and so you take the opportunity to appreciate your Papa. His shirt is already half unbuttoned by your earlier searching fingers, never missing an opportunity to paw at his soft hairy chest. His paint is smudged, turning grey on his brow, his mouth and chin. He is handsome with his paint and without but like this he is charmingly debauched, his hair falling out from its usual perfect style only adding to the effect. You both nod and you smile giddily, butterflies of excitement and lust swirling in your stomach. It is always a thrill for you sitting on the precipice of intimacy like this whether it be with the familiarity of your Papa or the novelty of someone new like the beautiful woman joining you tonight.

He slips his fingers under the hem of your dress, teasingly uncovering you even knowing full well that you are wearing absolutely nothing underneath. He pulls it up and over your head, leaving you bare to both of their eyes and you relish in their attention. He growls, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you firm against him. Your lips are captured by his and it is your turn to be devastated by only his kiss. Like always he makes your knees weak and your brain fog so when he releases you it takes you a moment to register he is speaking.

‘Will you help our guest undress?’ He poses it as a question but it sounds like an order and not one that you feel inclined to disobey. You find your feet and help her to hers, easily divesting her of the top and bra you had already partially removed. You stroke the newly revealed skin as you strip her marvelling at how beautiful every single inch of her is. She turns her back to you so you can unzip her skirt and lift it over her head and then she is left in nothing but her lacey pants.

Papa has lost his shirt while the two of you have been occupied and it is a test of your willpower to not turn all your attention to his now bare chest. His trousers are also undone giving him room to palm his cock as he watched you undress her. He stands, letting them fall to the floor so he can step out of them without letting go of his cock which he manages with a surprising amount of grace given his usual issues with balance. He gestures for the two of you to take his place on the bed so you do, helping her shimmy out her underwear before lying back on the soft sheets.

She is finally laid out before you and you are paralysed, unable to decide where you want to start on the feast of pleasurable possibilities. Papa’s gaze burns into your back impatiently but when all you do is trace the perfect curve of her waist he takes matters into his own hands. He comes close, his warm chest pressed to your back and his thick hair tickling your sensitive skin. He sucks on your earlobe, the barest graze of his teeth and his hot breath on your neck send shivers down your spine. His large hands wrap around your wrists guiding your hands up her body until you are cupping her breasts once more. They are soft and heavy in your hands all at once as you push them together, her fullness almost spilling between your fingers. Papa has yet to remove his gloves but you think you would like to see his larger hands on her.

‘Will you take off your gloves Papa?’ you ask reverently, catching his gaze over your shoulder. He nods and offers you his finger, seeking your help. Gently, you nip the tip of the glove so he can pull his hand free. He takes it from your teeth grazing your lip with his thumb before offering his other hand to you for the same assistance. He throws them to the side of the bed, floating to the floor forgotten and now it is your turn to guide his hands. He leans forward over her, forcing you to fold in front of him until you are forced to crawl to your knees over her. She has barely moved, quietly watching you interact with your Papa with round eager eyes, just waiting for both of your attention to fall back to her. He cups her breasts just as you were moments ago. You were right, his handsome hands fit her ample shape perfectly, her dusky nipples almost a perfect match for his olive skin.

‘Touch her amore,’ his voice soft but still commanding and you have no choice to obey. Whether deliberately or by chance he has positioned you in exactly the right place to capture her nipple between your lips but you don’t just yet. Instead you trace around his fingers with the tip of your tongue where his strong grip meets her soft flesh but before long the temptation of her pebbled nipples is too strong. With a flick of your tongue you have her arching her back, encouraging your exploration of her body. She is so sensitive, moaning as you suck and nibble on her until Papa has to shift his grip to her waist to keep her in place for you. Giving her some mercy you work your way down her body sucking and nibbling a path down her soft stomach.

Papa follows your every move, pressed against your back. He watches your every action offering both his encouragement and his guidance until you reach your final destination knelt between her legs. He reaches around you, opening her up for the two of you to enjoy, her folds flushed pink and already glistening with arousal. You ghost a touch over her that has her shaking, swiping at her slick because you just can’t wait to taste her. The two of you moan almost simultaneously as you suck your finger into your mouth, the flavour perfectly salty sweet in a way that only a woman can be. You pull your finger out of your mouth slowly, holding her gaze and keeping her in suspense of what you have planned for her next.

Papa continues to hold her open as you sink your spit slick finger inside her tight hole. She is so wet and so warm but you feel resistance as you stroke around carefully to find her gspot. You are definitely going to need to prepare her to take Papa’s cock comfortably and with that in mind you press your mouth to her. You lick and suck at her until she can’t decide between pressing her hips down on to your finger or up into your face even as you ignore her more sensitive spots to lavish attention on her sensitive inner thighs.

He is still pressed closely behind you, his hard cock pressing against your ass. You want to push back against him, angle yourself so he might slip right inside you right then but you know you won’t be the first to get his cock tonight. He must sense your need though as the hand not holding your hair back from obstructing his view begins to work its way down your body. He tweaks your nipples just how you like, pulling and twisting the bars of your piercings just to the point of pain before soothing them with gently massaging fingertips. His hands drift lower until he cups you firmly, his palm hard against your clit making you ache.

‘If she is as wet as you amore mia she must be ready for me.’ He whispers in your ear kissing sloppily at your neck. His fingers dip inside you feeling out how turned on you are right now and not being disappointed. He pushes his hips against you in time with his fingers, you hope imagining how easily he might just slip inside you right now as you were not a moment ago, but it still is not the time as much as you might both wish it.

‘Almost Papa.’ You don’t want to keep him waiting longer then you must so you slide a second finger alongside the first. ‘She is so tight,’ you say with a groan picturing what she was going to feel like around your Papa.

‘She is going to feel so good for you.’ His cock twitches against you as you speak so with a few more careful stretches you pull your finger from her. He helps you back to your feet and you use the new leverage to position her hips right at the end of the bed exactly where Papa will want her. You climb up onto the bed, kneeling over her and she grabs your ankle to ground herself. You offer her a smile and give her one last kiss before getting into position.

‘Look at you both,’ he moans. He stands at the foot of the bed stroking his cock slowly as he takes you both in. ‘Such a tasty treat for Papa eh?’ He steps closer bringing his dick level with your face.

‘Will you get me ready as well amore mia?’ he asks with a wink. Part of you wants to just swallow down his length in one go but the other part of you wins, smoothing your hand over his hairy stomach, fingers catching in the thickness as he continues to stroke. You have always loved his tummy, supporting him through his initial discomfort with his post retirement body. In your eyes he was always perfect but the main benefit to his rounded tummy was there was even more of him to love and worship.

You drag your hands downwards, taking over his stroking. He is thick in your hand and so hard you swear you can feel the thud of his pulse. You stroke him once, twice, three times before bringing the head of his cock to your lips. Filling your mouth with saliva you open up to him and he needs no more encouragement to sink into the wet heat of your mouth. It is difficult to only concentrate on the job at hand with him hot and heavy on your tongue but you do your best coating his length with spit so as to ease the way for both him and her. He pulls out reluctantly leaving your mouth empty and watering but the pulse of arousal you feel as he lines himself up to her entrance and pushes in with little to no resistance makes it all worth it.

He sinks into her heat so slowly, inch by controlled inch, her thighs shaking from the maddening pace. You can’t help admire his restraint even as you marvel at how her body stretches to accommodate him. He pulls out just as slowly setting what must be an infuriatingly steady pace. You match him stroke for stroke, lapping at her clit as he rolls his hips in the way you know grinds the head of his cock perfectly against your inner walls. His hardness looks incredible sinking into her wet heat and you can’t resist the enticing wetness gathering at the base of his cock with every thrust. So you don’t, ignoring her clit in favour of feeling with your mouth where she is stretched around him the blend of their arousal making you almost drunk with lust.

He slips from her, gripping his erection and offering you a proper taste. You open your mouth wide, sinking down his length as slowly as he was thrusting into her pussy only a moment ago, lathing him with your tongue in order to taste every drop. With a final swallow you take all of him, your nose buried in the soft hair at his base, luxuriating in the smell and the taste of him but sooner than you like he is pulling back leaving you empty and yearning for more.

‘Amore, we shouldn’t leave our guest unattended,’ he chides you, but you need little encouragement to return your attention to her swollen clit. He sinks back into her as you swirl your tongue around her in apology for leaving her neglected and although she is incapable of words right now you take her broken moans and her panting hotly against your thigh as acceptance.

He finds his rhythm, fucking into her with short hard strokes that you know have her seeing stars so you try to match him. Sucking on her steadily and flicking her with your tongue every time he bottoms out inside her until her moans turn to sobs beneath you. Her body starts to tense, writhing as her release begins to build inside of her. You grip her hips tightly keeping her still and Papa’s thrust start to build momentum, the slapping of his hips forcing you lean back and give him the room he needs to fuck her properly. You find her clit with your fingers now, trying to keep pace with Papa’s more frantic thrusts but it only takes a few more strokes before her body goes taught and she cums on his cock. You watch her pussy clenching around him as he grunts above you, fucking her through it until the wave of pleasure subsides.

‘Fuck, I am going to cum amore mia,’ he groans as his rhythm begins to stutter. He pulls out of her spasming hole, fisting his cock frantically. The head glistens with her juices and his pre cum and makes your mouth water and you watch mesmerised as the head seems to swell and his balls twitch up as his climax approaches. His eyes flit between your face and her used pussy and you can guess that he wants to paint both of you with his spend. You drop your head and open your mouth just in time because with a final grunt he cums.

Thick spurts splatter over your face and her pussy, over and over. He pants, squeezing at the base of his cock milking that last drops directly into your mouth. You close your lips around him as he starts to soften, lapping at his slit and suckling his tip until it begins to recede back into his foreskin and protect him from over sensitivity. You let his dick drop free from your mouth falling heavily against his thigh and he drops to his knees almost instantly and pulls you into a deep kiss. He wipes your face free of his cum, kissing you soundly once more before backing away slightly with a smirk.

‘Shall we clean her up,’ he asks but you beat him to it, licking at the mess covering her clit, only pausing to watch her twitch in pleasure. She doesn’t protest so you continue carefully, Papa joining you with a moan as he dips his tongue into her used hole. When the last of his cum is cleared you begin to sit up but he holds you a moment longer, pulling you into a slow sensuous kiss even as your faces are sticky from both of their juices. He pulls back when he is finished, eyes fond even as you try to imagine the mess you must look right now.

You climb off her, sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling oddly satisfied despite the ignored heat burning in your core. Leaning over her you smooth back her hair where it sticks to her forehead with sweat and drop a kiss there, then her cheeks and her nose until she is giggling underneath you. Together you crawl to the head of the bed where Papa is waiting, watching you again fondly and the three of you collapse into the soft pile of pillows with you sandwiched between them.

He manhandles you, turning you until you are facing her and he can spoon up close behind you. They are both exhausted, her eyes half lidded as she smiles at you lazily and tired waves seem to roll off him even as he runs his hands lazily over your skin.

‘You have been very good to us tonight, amore mia,’ he murmurs against the back of your neck. His warm breath makes your hairs stand on end and you can’t help pressing back against him. His cock twitches valiantly where it is pressed between you but it is more a token reaction. Instead his hand slides down your thigh lifting your leg and encouraging you to hook your knee over her hip.

Your core is entirely open for them, the air feeling cool against your overheated skin. She reaches for you first with her nimble fingers teasing your clit as she distracts you with a kiss. Your whole body shudders with it, eager for every touch after having waited so long. Then you feel his fingers at your entrance. He pushes two fingers into you, the build up of your slick easing the way until they are buried to the knuckle. His crooked teeth find your shoulder, teasing at a harder pressure just how you like so when he begins to stroke your gspot unrelentingly you find yourself quite trapped between them.

They aren’t quite in sync, lacking the experience you and your Papa have but their off rhythm means you can grind your hips back and forth with them until your mind is almost lost in an infinite loop of pleasure. He guides her to your nipples somehow knowing exactly what you need to tip you over the edge, directing her how to use her teeth to drive you to distraction. The feeling is overwhelming, forcing you closer and closer to your climax until you are dangling by a thread.

Everything seems to speed up while seemingly happening in slow motion so when he grazes your nape with his teeth and she tweaks your nipple just so and he tap tap rubs at your g spot and she squeezes your clit between her fingers it all narrows down to one spot in your core. For a moment it's like all your senses go numb and then it is exploding like fire and ice coursing through your nerves all at the same time. You feel it through your whole body from the palms of your hands to the soles of your feet and then your mind goes blank. You don’t remember much after your orgasm, the pleasure so intense after such a build up. When you come too you find yourself dozing in your Papa’s arms with her curled against your chest and you can’t remember ever feeling so content and satisfied is all that crosses your mind as you fall back to sleep.

P.s if there are typos I will fix them in the morning

#read queue

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saintedcooper · 5 months ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Javi!

summary: It’s the early morning of his 42nd birthday, and Javier is in the midst of having a very dirty dream when he’s awoken suddenly and finds out it wasn’t all in his head—his wife really is on top of him, something he loves waking up to.

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! This is literally smut and fluff. No y/n, mostly Javier's POV but shifts to reader at the end, Husband Javier Peña, Dad Javier Peña, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), consensual somnophilia, creampie (he’s told not to pull out), lactation kink, cockwarming if you squint, woman on top, Javier fighting for his life not to come immediately, he dreams reader is pregnant, Javier loving your postpartum body a lot, slight body worship, Javier being so in love, domestic fluff (IT’S SO FLUFFY), breastfeeding, Javier being the best dad, Javier and his son wearing matching outfits, Javier loving his wife and child so much, Javier getting the love and happiness he deserves)

word count: 4.4k

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live ‘verse (it’s canon). This idea came to me at 4:30 in the morning, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Then I had a really rough week, and writing about Javi being a dad cheered me up (he’s very cute in this), and here we are. It’s close to being half dirty nasty smut and half domestic Javi-being-a-father fluff. I hope you enjoy! A big thanks to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

Winter has barely sunk its teeth into southern Texas, and already, when the sun retires for the evening, the temperatures have begun dropping below freezing—It’s so cold the home’s heat has kicked on, something that hardly happens for the majority of the year.

With the house warm and the blankets on their bed thicker to combat the season’s chill, Javier is snug and cozy beneath the covers, having fallen asleep with the woman he loves curled up in his arms.

It’s a deep sleep that’s taken him, the kind where you melt into the mattress and sink so far into your dreams the world fades away, and reality becomes whatever your mind conjures—Javier’s mind has transported him back to his fully furnished apartment in Colombia, the one with the leather couch, and the colorful afghan blanket that was already there when he moved in to try and make the place feel homey. He’s naked and sitting back on the sofa with a sheen of sweat all over his body, his skin sticking to the leather, a situation he’d been in so many times he’d lost count, but this one—Jesus Christ—this one is unforgettable.

The love of his life is in his lap, bouncing on his cock; he’s mapped out every inch of her body and memorized all the ways she likes to be touched to the point he can play her like a virtuoso of her pleasure, and he can’t help thinking how fucking beautiful she looks taking what she wants.

She’s his Cielito (little heaven), his amor (love), his wife, and the mother of his one-year-old son—and in this scenario, she’s also pregnant with their second child, which is riling him up when the soft swell of her belly bumps into him—fuck, he misses her being pregnant—he knows that look on her face means she’s about to come, and he’s going to get her there no matter what it takes.

Javier can feel her hot, wet cunt around him as she moves up and down; he can feel it so perfectly, the way she’s starting to squeeze his length and how she’s dripping down his shaft, the arousal in his gut burning like an inferno. Her perfect tits are right there in front of him, pearly dribbles of milk leaking from her nipples, causing his mouth to water at wanting to lick it all up, and he can’t help himself, carefully taking her breasts into his large hands, dipping his head forward—“Javi,” she moans, but it doesn’t come from inside his head, it’s something said into the room and has his consciousness slamming into him hard enough to jolt him awake.

It takes a second to process his surroundings, and when he realizes what is going on, he groans loudly, “Fuckkkkk,” drawing out the word; his entire body shudders, his dick twitching hard inside his wife—his wife who is currently riding him and has been riding him while he was asleep.

Their bedroom is bathed in darkness save for the glowing red numbers on each of their alarm clocks on their bedside tables and a sliver of light from a night light filtering through the cracked bathroom door. His head is cushioned on a pillow, the blankets are pushed down his body to where they’re bunched up at his feet, and all he can make out is her shape.

She braces herself with her hands on his chest for leverage and picks up pace, rising until just the tip of him remains and dropping her ass down, fucking herself on him over and over again—like in his dream, her pussy has a tight grip on him, all hot and wet, her need soaking him, and dripping down his cock to catch on his balls.

“Happy birthday, Javi,” she pants, now that he’s awake.

He’s hoarse, his voice deeper from sleep. “God, I fucking love you.” He grabs the tops of her thighs bracketing his hips, feeling her muscles flex beneath his palms as she moves.

“I love you, too.”

“Close your eyes,” he tells her and waits a beat. “Are they closed?”

“Yes,” she gasps, keeping the same tempo; this faster rhythm she’s going at is a rhythm that’ll have her coming quickly, which is good because Javier isn’t sure how long he’s going to last—he’s wound up so tight, his toes are curled, and he’s fighting for his life not to blow his load so soon without getting a chance to see her with the light on.

Immediately, he reaches over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp, squinting at the sudden brightness, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, his palms resting on her thighs again.

When he can finally see, all of his attention is on the woman atop him and Christ, she’s even more gorgeous than in his dream; her head is thrown back, putting her kissable neck on display, her skin dewy with sweat, and there’s no baby bump, but it drives him just as crazy to see the reminders that she carried his child—the things she sometimes frowns at when she looks at herself in the mirror, and that he makes a point to show her how much he loves, worshiping the perfect imperfections with his lips and words, kissing her stretch marks, and constantly telling her how beautiful she is, always reassuring her that he thinks her body is perfect. Her incredible body that grew and feeds their son and makes Javier so fucking hard when he sees her naked.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says.

His hands slide up the soft skin of her belly to her ribs, and his eyes zero in on her tits jiggling as she uses him to make herself feel good; they’re bare, freely bouncing as she bounces on him, and they’re leaking—a flaming hot spike of arousal cuts through him, his eyes squeezing shut as he chants, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He’s hanging on by a single, delicate thread and starts recounting the digits of Pi in his head to calm himself down: 3.14159265…

She’s so wet he can hear the fast, slick strokes of her working herself up and down his throbbing shaft, and it’s not helping that she’s no longer holding back her moans and is letting them slip unbidden from her perfect parted lips. After a few big, steady breaths, he gets to a point where he can look at her again without coming instantly. His jaw goes slack, his heart pounding in his ears—her eyes are glossy with pleasure as she watches him, a furrow between her brows, and her mouth slightly agape for her heavy breaths and intoxicating sounds; it’s a look that tells him she’s close to coming, and when that happens, she’s taking him with her.

“You good?” her question comes out breathy, and she slows to a grind, rubbing her clit against the coarse hair at the base of his dick—her legs must be tired—his attention is on her breasts, and he wants so badly to taste the liquid beading from her nipples, that’s dripping down her stomach.

His response is delayed. He licks his lips and meets her gaze, sweat glistening on his temple. His voice sounds strained, “Tell me you’re close.”

Because he’s balancing on a razor’s edge, and he sure as hell is not finishing before her.

She smiles. “I’m close.”

Thank fuck.

“Can I take over?”

“Please.”

That’s all the answer he needs—he tugs her down to have them chest to chest, and with an arm around her, he rolls them so he’s on top and still inside her. His knees dig into the mattress, and he lifts her legs high up on his ribs for a better angle; his arms framing her head hold up most of his weight, and then his hips are moving, matching the fast, hard rhythm she was going at before she got tired that’ll have her coming in two, maybe three minutes.

“Oh, god,” she moans. “Don’t stop.” Her hands are on his ass, her nails digging into his flesh. “Oh, fuck it’s so good—you’re gonna make me come—make me come.”

His eyes are closed, his teeth clenched as he does his best to stave off his looming orgasm. The wet smack of skin on skin sounds in the room, his wife mewling beneath him, and Javier grunting with each deep kiss of his cock into her inner depths; arousal is drooling from her pussy, slicking up his strokes so he can easily pound into her, and Javier is dangerously close and needs to get her off sooner rather than later.

Some days she’s okay with her tits being played with, and others, she doesn’t want them touched at all; with her purposefully not wearing a bra—a rare occasion since she’s still breastfeeding—it’s her way of telling him he has free reign as long as he’s gentle. He puts all of his weight onto one arm to free up a hand he palms her breast with while the snap of his hips continues. Javier ducks his head down, wrapping his lips around her pebbled nipple, gingerly sucking; her back arches beneath him, and he groans as a spurt of the sweetness hits his tongue, his cock jerking.

She’s so sensitive that all it takes is another suck, and she’s cresting with a cry of his name, her body seizing up, and her pussy clamping down on him hard enough his pace stutters, and his breath catches in his throat—he’s going to come.

His mouth leaves her, his balls tightening, his thrusts turning frantic, and he has a split second where he thinks a rational thought—he can’t come inside her, he has to pull out, she doesn’t want to get pregnant until they experience the terrible twos with their firstborn. The realization has him panting out, “Shit, I’m coming.”

When he goes to get off of her, he finds that her legs are locked around him, stopping him from moving away. He looks at her with wild eyes, and her own are closed, her mouth turned up in a happy little smile.

“Then come,” she tells him.

“Are you sure?” He’s clenching hard to hold the orgasm at bay, his heart feeling like it’s going to beat right out of his chest.

Her eyes open, and she gives him a bigger smile. “Yes—Happy Birthday, Javi.”

Her answer has a choked whine leaving his throat, his dick pulsating; he’s at the point of no return where he couldn't stop himself from coming even if he wanted to—he’s a goner. His head drops against her shoulder, closing his eyes as his hips start moving fast, all of the nerves in his body lit up like the fourth of July. The muscles in his belly are coiling, winding tight, and then it’s game over; Javier pushes into her as far as he can go, his balls drawing up, and he shatters with a ragged moan. His cock jerks as spurts and spurts of his come gush inside her, euphoria exploding out from his center to take over every cell in his body, and it doesn’t seem to end as it continues pulsing through him in aftershocks.

He comes so hard all thoughts leave his brain, and everything goes black, Javier so wrung out that his arms give out.

—★—

He has no idea how much time passes.

What he does know is that his face is pressed into the crook of his wife’s neck, where she smells like the fruity body wash she used in the shower before bed with a salty hint of sweat. His scalp is tingling as her fingertips trail all over it. He’s still coming down and so relaxed that he’s practically boneless. Javier smiles, pressing a kiss to her skin.

“You come back to earth, yet?” she whispers.

He’s still inside her, and she feels so fucking good around him he doesn’t want to pull out, but he knows she’s probably uncomfortable under his weight—he grips her thigh, holding it against his hip to roll them to their sides without dislodging himself. He hugs her in his arms, peppering her neck in kisses, and his words come out muffled. “Pretty sure I’m still on cloud nine.”

She huffs in amusement, her fingers still in his hair. “Good way to wake up?”

His lips are on the underside of her jaw. “The best way to wake up.”

“I’m glad you liked it—Happy Birthday, babe.”

He kisses her chin, then her lips all slow and tender, wanting her to feel his love and devotion, his gratitude and appreciation for the perfect life she’s given him; years ago, at the beginning of their relationship, she asked him what he wanted in life, and he told her, a marriage founded in love, a dog, a house, happiness, and her—he wanted the American dream of a wife, dog, and white picket fence, but back then he didn’t think he was worthy of the two and a half kids, even though deep down he desperately wished he was.

And this incredible woman gave him everything he wished for and the greatest gift of all—fatherhood.

Agustín ‘Gus’ Jesús Peña was born the same year they were married, and even though he arrived a month before it, Javier considers him the best birthday present he’s ever gotten in his entire life—nothing would ever top becoming a father for his forty-first birthday, except maybe them having another baby.

They break apart, and he nudges her nose with his. “Thank you, mi amor.” For everything, he leaves unsaid.

“You’re welcome.” She pecks his lips. “We should probably go and shower since our child inherited your morning-person genes and will be up soon.” She yawns.

He lifts his head to look over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, his eyes squinting as he reads the numbers; it’s a bit past five, and she’s right, their son is an early riser, and he’ll be up within the hour.

He kisses her again. “You don’t have to get up with us morning-people, Cielito,” he says. “You took the day off—“ It’s a Wednesday in December, and she’d gone back to working full time after her maternity leave because she loves her job. “—so, go back to bed after we shower and sleep in a little. Mornings are my thing, anyway. I always get up with him.”

She moves her head to meet his gaze, smiling. “You’re very sweet.” She lightly pats his cheek. “And I’m sorry for intruding on your guy time. I know he’s your little morning buddy, but my boobs are leaking really bad, and I need him to help his mama out.”

“I could help his mama out…”

She laughs, and he frowns. “If we weren’t on a time crunch, I’d say yes; unfortunately, we are on a time crunch, and it’s impossible for you to put your mouth anywhere near my tits without getting unbelievably horny.”

He sighs. She’s not wrong. “Fine.” He smacks her bare ass and quickly kisses her. “I love you—let’s get going.”

—★—

Their toddler woke up after they showered and dressed in lounging clothes—Javier, a pair of grey sweatpants, his wife, an oversized T-shirt, a nursing bra, and her panties—they’d actually get dressed later on when the sun had risen. They heard their child stir while they were finishing changing out the sheets on their bed, and Javier went to get him, even though she protested that it was his birthday and she’d do it.

A diaper change, and a few minutes later, found the Peñas in their bedroom, his wife lying in bed on her side with her shirt shoved up and out of the way for their toddler to nurse, and Javier spooning her from behind, his arm over her, and his palm resting against the little one’s back. He loves his regular morning routine with his son, where they sit in the rocking chair he built, which lives in the child’s room, and he feeds him his bottle of warmed milk. But the mornings where the three of them cuddle together while Gus eats are hands down his favorite—he just hates remembering one day their kid will outgrow this—he’ll get big and won’t need to nurse anymore, and he’ll no longer be Javier’s sweet, little baby who greets him every morning with a big gummy smile, that’s now a big one-toothed smile.

He can hear their son suckling, and Cielito coos, “Is that my nose?” It makes Javier’s lips turn up. Gus has loved to poke people’s noses ever since they started teaching him parts of the body.

He nuzzles his face against the back of his wife’s head and thinks it’ll be okay his nene (baby boy) is growing—it's a new adventure in parenting having a toddler, and he’s their first child, after all. They need all the practice they can get before they have more babies, something Javier can’t wait for.

—★—

When asked what he wanted to do for his birthday, he gave the same answer he did the prior year: he wanted to spend the day with his wife and kid. Last year, they stayed at home with their newborn, and his dad came over to have dinner with them, bringing a tres leches cake his tía (aunt) made. This year? He wants to go out with them, starting with breakfast at the diner, then a walk around downtown to see all of the Christmas decorations and do a little shopping, maybe a stop at the park, or they could go on a drive so Gus can nap, and they’ll end their day having dinner with his father at a restaurant; in other words, Javier wants to show off his perfect family to everyone in town.

It’s later in the morning, and they’re preparing to leave for breakfast—he’s fully dressed in dark-wash jeans and a baby blue short-sleeved button-up his wife picked out for him so he’d match the sweater she’s wearing, and she insisted on getting their kid ready; it was one of those times where he knew he wouldn’t win, so he stood down, and let her do her thing while he put their dirtied sheets into the washer, unloaded the dryer, fed their dog—a two-year-old beagle named Bandido—and Javier is currently, setting down the dog’s full water bowl next to his food, the beagle nowhere in sight.

“Javi?” Cielito calls on her way to the kitchen. He can hear the soft padding of her socked feet on their hardwood floor and the patter of the dog following her.

Gus speaks before him, “Mama, dido!”

“Yes, baby,” his wife replies, the smile evident in her voice. “Bandido is down there.”

She addresses Javier again, “Babe?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Don’t look yet—” He straightens and continues facing the wall, smiling and wondering what her surprise is. “—but do you have your camera out there?”

“Yeah,” he answers. It’s sitting on their kitchen island’s marble countertop nearby since he’ll be bringing it with them.

“Okay, good.” Seconds later, she’s in the same room. “Turn around, Javi.”

Javier doesn’t wait another second and spins to face them. He sucks in a breath—his grinning wife has on a cable-knit sweater in a similar color to his shirt and black leggings, and their son, in her arms, is wearing the exact same outfit as Javier; same color shirt, same wash of jeans, he’s even got on a pair of brown Chelsea boots like his, and she put him in a matching black leather jacket to the one Javier planned to wear when they left. If all of that isn’t the cutest fucking shit he’s ever seen, she stuck a fake tiny mustache on the baby.

As Gus has grown and his features have become more pronounced, all it took is one look to know who his father is; their shared eyes, nose, eyebrows, chin, and dimple in their cheeks, he’s a miniature version of his dad, and with him all dressed up like Javier and the mustache, they looked exactly alike much to his delight.

The tiny leather jacket creaked as the one-year-old held out his arms toward his father, “Papá!”

“Oh, papito!” Javier says, smiling big. He briskly walks toward them, scooping up his son, making him giggle as he kisses all over his face. He holds him in one arm to look at him, smoothing his other hand over the soft, baby hair. “Mira lo guapo que eres! (Look how handsome you are)!” He rubs the child’s cheek with his thumb. “Mi nene lindo (My cute baby boy). ¿Tu mamá te vistió como yo (Did your mom dress you like me)? ¿Eres mi gemelo hoy (Are you my twin today)?”

Gus grins at him, his one tooth peeking up from behind his bottom lip. His chubby little hand reaches towards Javier’s face, pointing at it, and the man closes the distance so the baby pokes the tip of his nose.

“¿Es esa mi nariz? (Is that my nose)? ¿Dónde está tu nariz (Where’s your nose)?”

The child gestured to his own. “Correcto, papito (That’s right, papito),” he says. Javier hugs the baby to him and kisses the top of his head. He lifts his face, focusing on his wife, who’d grabbed the camera, his eyes softening.

“I love this,” he tells her.

She smiles. “I know, and I know that yes, you want to spend the day out and about with us, but you also want to flaunt us around town because you love when people comment on how cute our family is—I figured we’d up the cuteness.” She shrugs. “They’re gonna go nuts at you two twinning and all of us color coordinating. I even told your dad to wear baby blue when we go to dinner tonight. Happy Birthday, Javi. I love you.”

“Come here,” he says, holding out his free hand, and she takes it, Javier pulling her close enough to wrap his arm around her, gazing into her eyes. “I love you, too.” He kisses her, and Gus starts happily squealing—as they’ve done many times before, their mouths separate, and they turn their attention to the toddler, each choosing a cheek that they press many loud, smacking kisses to, their son laughing, a sound Javier loves so much.

This is the fucking dream, and he’s living it. He’s never been happier.

Without a doubt, marrying Javier Peña is the best and easiest decision you’ve ever made in your entire life. He hates that he settled down so late, but for you, his age is a perk—he’s mature, experienced, and he took your relationship seriously; he didn’t want to play around. He was more than ready for commitment and marriage.

What it came down to is that you hit the husband jackpot. Javier is a man who loves you more than anything and gives you all of his devotion. He’s caring, sweet, amazing in bed, and absolutely the best father in the world to your child.

There’s nothing better than watching him be a doting dad. Right this second, you’re walking down a sidewalk downtown after having breakfast; Javi’s holding his tiny twin, who removed his fake mustache on the car ride to the restaurant, wearing their leather jackets to keep warm, while you push the stroller. The father keeps stopping at store windows for Gus to see the pretty, colorful holiday lights and decorations.

Practically everyone at the diner stopped by your table to comment on the matching father-son duo’s adorableness, and on your walk, many people have said how cute they are, which has Javi over the moon with happiness. Just moments ago, an elderly couple approached you and were delighted when your son waved and greeted them with, “Hi!” They told Javi he had a beautiful family, and he’s still beaming from the compliments.

The happy man is strolling along beside you. He leans your way and whispers, “I want another.”

“Another what?” you ask, keeping your focus forward. There aren’t too many shoppers out.

“Another baby.”

An exasperated breath leaves you, and you glance at him. “You always want another baby.”

He’s smirking under his perfect mustache. “Yeah, I do—we should go for it.”

“I love you, Javi, and I know it’s your birthday, but my answer is no. Not yet—we’re waiting.”

He pouts. “If your answer is no, then why didn’t you let me pull out this morning?”

Pulling out isn’t the best birth control method. Still, you didn’t want to get back on the pill or do anything that fucked with your already fucked postpartum hormones, and the two of you would rather risk pregnancy than use condoms—you’re married, financially stable, want more kids, have extra space in your home—if any of this weren’t the case, he’d be wrapping up, as it was, an accidental pregnancy wouldn’t be the end of the world; It’s simply your preference to hold off on another kid until you see what your firstborn is like as a two-year-old.

You also keep track of your cycle, and the chances of him knocking you up are currently slim to none.

“Because birthdays are a day to indulge in things you don’t normally get to, so cream pies are back on the menu today.” You wag your eyebrows, and his eyes widen, seeing his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“All day…?” he asks.

You smile. “Yes.”

He suddenly stops, and you do, too, facing him.

“Turn around, we’re going home,” he says, his chocolate-colored eyes darker.

“Javier,” you giggle. “You have a whole day planned!”

“Sure, but that was before I knew all of my options—we’re going home, Gus is taking a nap, and we’re gonna fold a hell of a lot of laundry.” Folding laundry is your codeword for sex that you use in front of your toddler and around other people so you don’t scandalize anyone.

“Javi?”

His tongue peeks out, swiping along his bottom lip. “Yes, Cielito?”

Your hand leaves the stroller to press your palm to his leather jacket-covered bicep, looking at him through your lashes. “It was going to be a surprise, but your dad is taking Gus for the night after dinner.”

The smile he gives you is blinding.

“Christ, I love you so fucking much.” And the way he ends his sentence is to wrap his arm around your waist and tug you toward him so he can crush his lips to yours in a searing kiss, Gus cooing on his other side.

Your words are muffled against his mouth between kisses, “Happy Birthday, Javi.”

He sounds just as distorted, “I love you.”

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