#I can’t wear a bra with it and it just shows a lot more skin than usual lol

[introspectionera]

I didn’t have the balls to wear this dress for like a month and now today that I finally wore it I’m obsessed and want to frolick around in it and go to a farmers market lol

[shiimmer]

cherry kiss

sevika x f!stripper!reader

warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once

men and minors dni!!

no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry

word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)

ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.

note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!

it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.

so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.

she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.

a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.

it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.

you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.

the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.

and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.

you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.

your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’

“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”

she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.

your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?

oh, how wrong you were.

the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.

“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.

you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.

“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.

your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.

your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.

“come here.”

your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.

three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.

it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.

“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”

sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”

you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”

the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.

you yearn for her.

“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”

it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.

the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.

“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.

sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.

your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.

“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.

“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”

you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.

sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.

“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.

she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.

her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.

“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”

her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.

with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.

the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.

“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”

she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.

you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.

her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”

the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.

“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.

with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.

“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”

you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.

your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.

sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.

and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.

she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.

sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.

“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”

[lalalunel]

Game Movie Night

lowkey.. based on this twt link .... it had to be done i fear

wc: 1406

cw: leon and reader are perpetually horny, lil tit gropping, dry humping, lil overstimulation, cum-stained clothes (gross)

enjoy?

Movie night never just ends when the movie does, no matter how much you and Leon say it will. 

Cuddled up with a bowl of popcorn and other various snacks and your drink of choice, you two get through the first two movies with little to no interruption. But sitting still so close has never been a good idea for you two. The same couple who could barely keep from sucking each other’s faces off after only being apart for 2 hours. 

It starts with an innocent kiss against your temple from Leon, his hand on your waist drifting to your hip and then just a bit lower, your hand suddenly resting comfortably on his thigh. It starts off innocent, yet it never stays that way for long.

You’re halfway through the third movie when you feel Leon’s thigh shift beneath your hand. It’s a sudden shift forward so he can lean back, that ends with your hand just shy of the.. tent in his pants. Well that wasn’t there before. 

Your eyes trail from his very apparent hard-on to his face. He’s staring forward at the TV as if nothing was amiss, but you notice the unmistakable red hue that graces his ears, the way he bites the inside of his cheek. You know him. 

You decide to play along if he wants to play the ‘I'm hard for you but I'm not going to show it because it's movie night’ game. You’re so damn good at that game, so it's no skin off your back as you slide your hand to rest completely over the tent in his pants, palming him almost as you snuggle comfortably into his side and ‘watch’ the movie. 

You know your touch has an effect on him from the way he stiffens, his grip on your hip flexing. You can see Leon look down at you out of the corner of your eye, yet you pay the attention no mind. This is a game of playing it cool, isn’t it? 

Leon catches on to what you’re getting at pretty quickly and decides he won’t be shown up in a game he started. His hand, which had been resting basically on your ass before, slides up. He slips his hand under your arm and your shirt to cup your left tit. Maybe that affected him more than you though. 

You weren’t wearing a bra. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, you were in your own place and comfortable watching a movie with your boyfriend. It made sense, but god did it make him twitch in his boxers all the same to feel it hand first- first hand. Oops. Same thing. 

He isn’t shy about it as he tenderly massages the soft mound, his thumb brushing over your nipple over and over until it hardens under his ministrations. It brings him a different sense of pride when you tense, relax, and let out a string of curses under your breath, trying hard to act like it didn’t feel as good as it did. 

You return his groping by fully palming your hand against his dick, feeling the outline of his length through his sweatpants. His grip on you flexes and he swears softly as his eyes slip shut for a beat. You’re suddenly struck by a realization that makes this all seem really stupid. 

You both don’t even know (or care about) what movie you’re watching, and you’re both really horny. What does it matter if you get a little (or a lot more than a little) touchy?

Leon seems to be struck by the same realization as he mutters a ‘fuck this’ and loosens his grip on your tit, instead hooking a hand under your thigh to pull you onto his lap. He wastes absolutely no time in grinding you down against his hard on, pulling a moan from you and him as he nudges firmly against your clit through your thin shorts from the motion. 

He repeats the motions over and over again sharply, swearing as he tips his head back against the couch and bites his lip, feeling dizzy from the pleasure. His fingers dig into your hips, surely leaving his hand print in the form of bruises from how tightly he’s holding on to you. 

You can’t bring yourself to care about the pain when everytime he pulls your hips, he rocks his own up against you, giving you the friction you wanted in large enough doses to make everything seem like nothing. The dull ache is a little added bonus if you really think about it anyway.

The friction, while good for a while, just isn’t enough though. Feeling Leon through his sweatpants and your shorts, while so damn good, just isn’t enough. 

Leon sure seemed to feel the same way when he’s reluctantly lifting your hips away from his and working your shorts off your legs. It’s clumsy, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling when he mutters about how you should never wear clothes again if it takes this much effort to take off, but he does eventually get the stupid shorts off. He’s met with the delightful reward of seeing you in your panties, and he has to fight the urge to come in his boxers when he catches sight of the wet patch that graced the front of them.

He’s all caught up in admiring the sight (and thinking about what you taste like) when he feels you tugging at his sweats, tugging down the waistband to expose his boxers. If you couldn’t straight up bounce on his cock (mainly because you’re both a little too lazy at the moment), at least you could grind on each other with minimal clothing. 

Nothing like a little dry humping to spice up movie night, right? 

He eagerly leans back as he pulls your hips down against his again, hissing softly when he pulls you down in that same grinding motion from before and you both buck in response. Fuck, just a few layers less and it feels like heaven. 

Over and over and over and over again, he drags your hips in a hard roll against his stiff cock, driven utterly insane by how good it feels and how sweet you sound moaning in pleasure, leaning in towards him so the head of his cock nudges more consistently against your clit, pulling even more moans from your lips and his.

His mind feels blank as his grip tightens on you, pulling you faster against him as a pit forms deep in his stomach. He can’t take it. His boxers grow damp from all the friction with your soaked panties, though he’s sure his precum is also the source of the wetness. Lube source aside, It’s getting harder and harder for either of you to resist the burning heat flooding your stomachs. 

You’re the first to cave to the pressure, head dropping forward against Leon’s shoulder as your body tenses, your thighs shaking lightly as your body throbs. A string of curses follow your orgasm as Leon keeps your hips in motion against him. 

He mutters a low string of praise against your ear, something along the lines of ‘fuck, you feel so good baby’ and ‘m so close, gonna come so hard’. It all melts together in your mind when he’s still rutting against your throbbing and aching clit, overstimulating you as he chases his own orgasm using your body. 

He doesn’t hold you pleasure-hostage for much longer when he’s suddenly bucking up sharply against you, groaning lowly as his cock throbs and twitches in his boxers as he finishes and he finally lets you still. 

You spend just a moment laying against each other, catching your breath and trying to let the fog pass from your minds. The forgotten movie fills the silence along with your breathing, a sudden burst of clown music jolting you from the post-coital haze and making you laugh a little.

Leon can’t help cracking a smile as well, though the moment of amusement was cut short when you shifted and immediately reminded both you and him of the sticky mess you now had to attend to. Cold, cum-stained panties/boxers are a sensory nightmare, and a shower is in the cards for you both. Showering together to fix the mess wouldn’t hurt..

Made the mess together, might as well clean up in the shower together too, right?

~~~

actually made with re4 Leon in mind for once (maybe also DI leon tho...)

[whaleofatjme1920]

Creepypasta/Marble Hornets X Reader with A Small/Flat Chested F!Reader

[Warnings: NSFT/smut, size kink mention, praise, body worship, breeding kink, MINORS DNI]

[AN: sometimes I find you guys out in the wild (and what’s crazier is I get recognized sometimes??) and I go :0 in a good way!! Anyways here’s this lol. Made it while drinking canned bubble tea. Enjoy, for all my small titty goddesses]

Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jeff the Killer

Gods he’s so feral about small tits. And I mean FERAL. He has no eyelids so of course he’s going to stare. Loves seeing your nipples, clothed or not. Prefers when you don’t wear a bra in colder weather just so he can gawk at you and how they perk up.

He’s always cupping and rubbing them. When he’s able, he’s sucking on them. The way he loved your tits is raunchy and wild. Always making lewd comments about how hot you are how he loves how well you fit in his hands, how your skin is so soft and you squish just right for him.

Jeff obviously loves all parts of you, but whenever he sees you wearing a top that’s a little too thin and a little too tight and he can see the outline of your breasts, he finds himself drooling. He can TRY to be professional but good luck, his gaze always gives it away.

His kind of love for you is aggressive and possessive. If you EVER show any doubts, he’ll take offense. “Who the fuck are you to question my good fucking taste?” He doesn’t like you doubting him because how dare you? He sees your beauty, both inside and out, so why can’t you?

He’s going to show you off every chance he gets. Comes with the territory of dating him lol. He loves when people look at you but can’t touch, because you belong to him and him alone. No one else, just his. He doesn’t want to treat you like an object! You aren’t, but gods you have a gifts in your life and one is your body, don’t be shy. All that said, he loves you, truly and genuinely. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Eyeless Jack

Size kink. Huge. Huge size kink. He loves that he’s so much bigger than you in every way possible, and something about your tits fitting into his large hands, engulfed by his clawed palm make him melt. He purrs whenever he sees you changing and you let him lovingly gaze upon your body.

I’ve always felt Jack is into art, and sketches a lot in his free time. His art is mostly based on his medical knowledge, studying anatomy and whatnot, but he draws your breasts any chance he can get. And it’s not always in a sexualized way, but a very artistic focus. You, slowly waking up and gazing out the window, a warm drink in your hands as the sheets cascade over your body… and you’re nude.

He loves you without clothes on. With clothes on, however? If you wear any necklaces or whatnot, he melts because he thinks they fall between your breasts so elegantly. Everything about you is perfect to him.

Jack goes through heats, of course, and when he goes through them, he spends special attention on your tits. Lots of bite marks, especially when he’s sucking on your perfect nipples.

He’s got a habit of sitting you down on his lap while he’s doing work and playing with your breasts like a stress toy. Or just,,, playing with them because he can. Your body is his and his alone. He says you’re perfect to him, so you better believe it. If not, don’t worry, Jack is surprisingly good at talking through more sensitive topics without overriding your feelings. He’ll always take care of you.

Tobias Rogers

He’s just like Jeff in terms of being raunchy. He prefers you to wear skimpier, form fitting clothes just to show your body off to the world. When he’s out in public with you, he likes you to be the candy on his arm. Thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous, and the way your tits sit on your chest contribute a great deal to that.

If you have nipple piercings? Lord help you, Toby can’t keep himself off of you. Not even when he tries, he’s just so into you. The moment you take your shirt off and show them to him, he’s drooling and fucking you into the floor, folding you like a lawn chair so he can watch your breasts bounce a bit as he drives you into the floor.

Toby doesn’t actually like the necklaces too much. Not the long ones. Not only do they get in the way of sex, but he likes chokers and shorter chains better. He’s kinda particular like that. Sometimes, he’ll playfully complain whenever you wear baggier clothes and hoodies (he never means it, he wants you to be comfortable).

Toby is also a huge fan of you not wearing a bra so he can gawk at you. But!! If you do fancy wearing bras, he’s especially into the cute ones that are clearly meant for adult activity. Seeing you in lingerie makes his caveman brain warp into hyperdrive.

He does understand the shadowy sides of you though. He’s dealt with body image issues himself, specifically his face. But, he’s grown confident in who he is. He won’t ever push toxic positivity on you, but he won’t let you say awful things about yourself. He says it hurts his feelings, because how could you talk so poorly about yourself when he loves you so deeply? It actually messes him up.

Masky/Tim Wright

Masky loves you so boldly. Your body really sparks some protective nature or something in his head. When he first saw your breasts once your clothes came off, all he could think about was how sweet you must taste and how soft you must be to squeeze. He wants you all to himself, your body is his to enjoy as much as he is yours to enjoy. It’s usually him somehow giving pep talks, but he’s an aggressive supporter. Loves you, refuses to let you speak like that about yourself.

Tim however, Tim is a little cuter about it. Make no mistake, he’s still a pervert but it’s sweeter, somehow. Tim loves to worship every bit of you, showing attention to your breasts because they’re his favorite part of you. He finds himself staring, blushes and tries to shake himself back into focus but can’t. Really, he can be such a nerd at times. Doesn’t mean to, but look at him. Look at him and tell me he isn’t.

There’s hickies all over your body when he’s done with you. Hickies all over your breasts and sometimes, he’ll form them in a heart because that’s cute. His large, calloused hands love how soft and small you are as he squeezes and cups. LOVES to fuck in positions that let him see your breasts, as that’s what he’s focused on outside of the way your eyes roll upwards when he pushes in extra deep.

He LOVES seeing you all dressed up but also really loves whenever you’re all comfortable. Either way, he’ll make cheesy jokes like “your clothes look better in my floor ;)” so be prepared for a lot of cheesy, horny jokes. Or if you say “my eyes are up here??” He’ll keep honing in on your tits. That’s just the kind of man he is.

Some of his favorite moments with you are the kinds where you’re all curled up in bed together, spooning and his hands are able to roam your body. He often falls asleep holding your breasts, hand spread out over them and squeezing you to his chest like you’re his squishy toy. He often falls asleep better this way! If you’re not in the mood to be bear hugged to sleep, he’ll still keep a hand resting on your chest or hips somehow.

Hoodie/Brian Thomas

Hoodie is a very silent, down to business kind of proxy. Deeply cocky and self assured, maybe a bit too hot headed. When it comes to you, he knows his taste and what he’d choose and he chose well. Whenever he sees you all dolled up, he’ll bend you over just to have his way with you before you have to go. Hoodie’s gloved hand squeeze at your tits every chance he gets before he pulls them off so his fingers can play with your nipples with no barrier in between.

Brian’s a southern gentleman. This does not apply to how he worships your body. He’s FERAL for your body and will try to get you pregnant any chance he can. There’s times you’ll come out of the shower and drop the towel, he sees your nipples, the curve of your breasts, and he’s on you, mating press, trying to get you pregnant. He can’t help himself when you look that sexy.

He’s also really fond of holding your breasts in any way he can. Makes him happy just to touch you. Cuddle? Grab titty. Doing anything on the computer? Grab titty. Has no restraint, and in the safety of your home? He doesn’t care (unless you’re overstimulated or don’t want to, of course). He’s HUGE on physical touch. Everything from your ass, your thighs, your arms, titties, everything.

Also really weak for lingerie. Wearing something sexy and lacy, maybe has his name on the waist band and he’ll fold for you. He’s really, really fond of the bras that let him have access to your nipples. He’ll squeeze your breasts as he bends your legs upwards, then press chest to chest with you to feel your heartbeat as your soft breasts bounce against him. He’s weak.

Maybe it’s just the vibe I get, but he somehow manages to make you feel really at peace with yourself, and if you aren’t, then he’s always there to let you vent and reassure you that he loves you and PREFERS YOU the way you are! Nothing about you needs to change or be bigger. He prefers your body the way you are now, and by the way he’s always staring? You’ve never a reason to doubt him.

Bonus Kate the Chaser!

She’s no better than a man with the way she stares at your tits. She’s pretty muscular and I write her as really tall now, so she LOVES how your titties fit in her hands. There are moments she will squeeze with her hands and then press her face into them, not caring if she suffocates. Kate stares so boldly. And then when she’s eating you out, her tongue buried deep in your pussy, all she can focus on is how beautiful you look. Your chest is rising and falling and your nipples are hard, and when you’re on your back she can see the little shivers. If you’re riding her face, she’s melting at the curve of your breasts, the gentle slopes that make them, and making little grabby hands to reach and play with them. When is she not playing with your breasts? Kate sometimes wears lipstick (a rarity) and covers your breasts in her kisses just to reaffirm to you how beautiful you are and how much she loves this part of your body. Make no mistake, she’s still lining your body with hickies and bite marks, but your neck, collar and titties especially. She can probably cum from just seeing you.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #31

31. Free For All - Voyeurism (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

a/n: 1.4k words of pure porn to round off the season. this one goes out to @eupheme who, when asked what she wanted to see for my final Kinktober, said more of Logan watching. so I was happy to deliver 😌 Thank you to everyone who's been commenting, and reblogging! I love you all!

Logan has learned a lot since moving in with Wade.

He’s learned that he can live with other people, but maybe he shouldn’t. It’s a good day if he doesn’t dismember the merc to be honest, what with the way he runs his mouth all the damn time. (He wonders if this was something he really learned though, or something he picked up at the mansion which has become solidified after tripping over Wade’s abandoned suit one too many times).

But he’s also learned that he likes the sound of life around him, Althea making her coffee, the rumble of traffic outside, the neighbours’ chatter in the hallway. He’s learned he enjoys being touched. Oh, how he loves being touched. Wade’s hand on his bicep for just a beat too long to be friendly when the two of them are laughing about something, your hand brushing against his when he’s helping you with the dishes.

Touches, yeah. 

And he’s also learned that he likes to look.

His eyes will settle heavy on you and Wade when you kiss. He watches the way Wade will press a hand to the back of your head to keep you in place, the way your fingers will snake up his abdomen and come to rest on the mottled skin of your boyfriend’s chest. The way Wade’s tongue will slip into your mouth.

The way you smile while biting it.

And you both know he loves to watch the two of you, and you’ve both done nothing to discourage it. In fact, from the way he finds the two of you practically dry-humping on the couch every other day, you’re both enjoying it as much as he is. Is it the being observed that gets you off, or the fact that it’s him doing the watching? Logan thinks maybe both, from the way you’ll rub your ass up against Wade’s bulge and then, in tandem, the two of you will turn to look at him.

He’s probably getting too old for this shit. But he can’t stop. Doesn’t want to, honestly.

The night begins quietly, the three of you bundled up on the sofa to watch a movie. Something action-based, lots of explosions, women in tiny shorts and fast cars. At some point you moved yourself into Wade’s lap and started cuddling up together, and Logan can’t deny that he felt a pang of… something in his chest when the chasm on the sofa opened and he lost the closeness of other bodies to his.

But then you started rubbing Wade’s dick over his sweats and Logan’s attention was caught.

“Someone’s feeling frisky tonight, huh?” Wade mutters into your ear as you shift yourself to be chest-to-chest with him. You giggle and press your mouth to his, luxuriating in a long and passionate kiss. Logan feels blood pump through his body at a mile a minute. The film is forgotten about immediately. 

“Mmm, just wanna fuck you on the couch, baby,” you sigh against his lips, reaching out to catch one between your teeth and nibble at it. Wade moans in your mouth and the two of you look over to Logan.

“Oh, Logan won’t mind, will you, Lo?” you breathe. Logan feels his jeans get tighter as your voice makes him half-hard, the promise of a show.

A beat.

All he can do is grip his beer bottle and nod his consent.

“Do it,” he growls. You and Wade both grin and continue.

Wade’s hands come to the hem of your shirt and lift it up, and holy fuck you aren’t wearing a bra. Logan watches the way the mercenary starts sucking at your nipples, bringing one and then the other between his lips, cementing the nickname of Mouth. He moans around the soft skin of your breast in a way which has you bucking up into him.

“Fuck, baby, did you do this on purpose? Not wear anything under your shirt because you wanted to show off for our Peanut, here?”

The giggle you let out is all the answer that’s needed, and suddenly Logan is aware that he’s rocking into the meat of his own palm. The friction of the denim is just rough enough to get him a little harder, keep him teased. Wade cocks his head.

“So if I reached down here…”

His hand dips below the belt of your jeans and he groans.

“No panties? Baby, you’re killing me here…”

“Can’t blame me for wanting ease of access. Took all my strength not to wear a skirt and bend over all evening. A preshow, I guess,” you hum, as Logan watches the way Wade works his fingers in and out of you beneath your pants. When the merc pulls back to inspect, they’re covered to the knuckle in slick.

In an act he isn’t expecting, Wade holds them out to Logan.

“Want a taste of her?”

Logan stops fucking up into his own hand for a moment, so shocked by the blatant filth of it… but when he sees the way the two of you look at him, with twinned wide-eyed expressions of hope and pure lust…

He opens his mouth and licks Wade’s fingers clean. As he does, he hears you both mutter a ‘fu-uu-uck’. 

“I didn’t say stop,” says Logan, pulling away and nodding at you. Wade scrambles to undo your jeans and you’re all too eager to help, sitting naked in his lap within seconds. Logan takes a beat to admire the shape of your body, pretty thing, especially the warm wet cunt between your legs that Wade is currently circling with those drenched fingers.

“Seeing as honey badger got me nice and ready for you…” he sighs, pressing them inside your hole. You gasp and drop your forehead to Wade’s shoulder, allowing him to fuck you with his hand for a moment, the noise loud and obscene in a total betrayal of how wet you are. Damn, you’re just as filthy as Wade. Logan opens his mouth to verbalise this but only lets out a moan as you slip Wade from his sweats.

Wade’s cock is about what he imagined, though he’d never confess to imagining it at all. Curved, decently thick, bobbing against his stomach in eagerness as you spit on it from above. You jerk him off for a couple of strokes before pressing his head up against your soaked cunt. You’ve left wet patches on his sweats, staining light grey dark with your arousal. Proof that this is happening.

Logan is ravenous as he undoes his fly and takes his cock into his hand properly, starting to rock into the calloused grip of his fingers as you sink down on Wade. All three of you groan in pleasure, and Logan cannot rip his eyes away from how you begin to ride. Your hips move in erratic, hurried movements, your cunt taking Wade to the tip and then all the way back inside over and over, a practised and hypnotic motion. Logan only distracts you briefly, holding out his upturned palm.

“Spit, sweetheart,” he breathes, ragged. When you catch on you’re all too happy to do what he asks, dripping saliva onto his hand - but more importantly so is Wade, who winks as he spits at the same time you do. Logan growls but not with irritation but pure adrenaline, wrapping his newly lubricated hand around his dripping cock and fucking himself for dear life, the speed of his strokes matching yours on Wade. Dripping with a cocktail of you both.

“Oh baby, fuck, I’m gonna…” you breathe. Wade digs his fingers so hard into the flesh of your ass it’ll leave marks.

“Fuck, yeah. Absolutely. Come on my cock and make me never be able to look at this sofa without popping a boner again… but do it while looking at Logan over there, okay?”

You and Wade drag your eyes away from each other to let them settle on Logan. It’s too much. He feels his orgasm ripping through him and Logan comes in white jets all over his hand, a bitten-off roar escaping straight from his chest. From the noises at the other end of the couch, the two of you aren’t far behind either.

And then for a moment, there’s silence.

“Happy Halloween,” Wade murmurs, dropping a kiss to your collarbone while his cum drips out of your cunt. This draws out a giggle from you.

“Mm. Wanna go again?” you ask, eyes darting between the two men on the couch. Logan feels himself twitch again and knows he’s in for a long evening.

[meowkunas]

worth the wait

for jjk valentine's day 2024

summary: you're all dressed up for yuki's return from her business trip. too bad she's going to leave you wanting and needy for a little bit longer.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: NSFW content (under the cut!), reader wears lingerie, fem! reader, teasing, eating you out, tribadism/scissoring, fingering (a little), body worship, calls you needy, sweet thing and princess

The image shows up sent, but undelivered yet again. There’s a thread of three images: a close-up shot of all the little details on your two piece lingerie, a mirror selfie, and then a shot of your hand artfully placed over your bare stomach as you lay down. 

Yuki’s flight was supposed to land three hours ago. From there it’s a 45-minute cab ride to your shared apartment. You had still been waiting patiently in bed during hour one, knowing that delays were inevitable, but by the second hour, your frustration had kicked in and you’d decided to anxiously pace instead. She’d promised to be home on time for a quiet night with you, but there’s only so much power she has over these kinds of circumstances. 

That doesn’t mean you can’t be annoyed about it. 

With a huff, you sink down onto the couch, arms crossed. At least if she saw the message you wouldn’t feel so upset. You’re just about to call it a day and pull on a big t-shirt to get comfy, maybe make dinner for one, when the front door shakes slightly. Quickly following the noise was a jingle of keys falling onto the floor. 

“Shit.” 

It’s Yuki’s voice. A brief flicker of joy churns in your chest, before you remember her lack of response and the annoyance settles back in. Even so you find yourself practically bouncing over to open the door for her, forgetting about your current state of dress. The frustrated look on your face fades into a smile as you see her. She looks weary, but she still manages to shoot you a winning smile. 

“Hey. Look at you.” Her voice drops to a purr as her eyes slowly travel up your bare legs, to the panties that barely cover you, and landing finally on the lacey bra that’s showing a lot more than it covers. 

In just one devouring look, you’ve forgotten about your earlier annoyance of her being late. Instead a blush burns on your cheeks. Yuki doesn’t even show any sign of being surprised, even though she hadn’t seen the messages. The messages! She catches on to your facial expression as the thought crosses your mind. 

“Sorry.” She says apologetically. “My phone got absolutely destroyed in a fight, so I couldn’t text you at all.” 

A dramatic groan exits her throat. It all happens quickly – her rough kick at her carry-on bag to send it into the apartment, one hand holding onto your waist to push you stumbling backwards as she pushes the front door closed behind her and buries her face into the crook of your neck. 

“Did you get all dressed up for me? Hope you took some pretty photos of it before it gets all dirty and ruined by you.” She kisses your ear. With both hands holding onto your waist, she’s half-pushing, half-carrying you until you’re back in the bedroom where you had been waiting your evening away. 

The reminder of it makes you furrow your eyebrows together. “I was in the right mood before…” You let your sentence trail off, squirming under her scrutinising gaze. 

It doesn’t phase her in the slightest. “Want some help warming up?”

That smile of hers is very difficult to say no to. 

Yuki likes to take her time. 

Even with exhaustion written all over her features, she seems determined to tease you incessantly. It starts with wandering hands, and an intense furrow between her brows as she takes in the way your skin bends and complies to her squeezes. It’s almost as though she’s searing this–you–into her memory. She kneels between your legs, keeping them spread apart in a firm hold that makes you whimper at how easily she moves you around. 

She pulls you down to kiss you tenderly, mouth barely brushing against yours. All you can feel is the plushness of her mouth and her warm breath as she teases you.  It’s you that has to chase after her lips and she laughs as you do so, just staying out of reach. 

“Needy little thing. I thought I taught you better than this.” Yuki’s fingers tighten their hold around your spread thighs. She leaves a string of kisses across your cheek instead, giving your skin tiny licks as she does so. You’re so sure she mumbles an apology at one point, but she quickly follows it up with her hands pinching at your still-covered nipple. She’s not obviously teasing, but it’s enough to make you restless. 

Her hands move so slowly, latching onto every patch of bare skin with renewed enthusiasm. She’s not satisfied until she hears any sound come out of your mouth at her touching, and then she’ll move on to the next location. There’s no surprises. All her movements are easy to follow, one after the other: her fingers grazing over your waist until you giggle, a breath of throaty laughter in your ear as you squirm at her digging her knuckles into your shoulders, her hands splayed over the top of your thighs… and then the movement of her hands running up your whole body to do it all over again. 

Finally, she unclasps the top piece of your lingerie, letting it fall partway down your front before she envelops one of your nipples into her warm mouth. A kiss for the other one. It sends a lightning throb of pleasure through your chest. A kiss in the centre of your chest. Every breath feels shorter than the next. You haven’t even realised that your arms are tensed by your sides, holding you up so that you’re still sitting. Yuki squishes your sides and your tummy again, forcing a giggle from your throat that fades into a moan when she drags a finger up your clothed slit. 

“Aww, sweet thing.” The end of her words is accompanied by a well-timed nibble on your shoulder. “If I could, I’d just touch you like this for the next few hours. But you already look all needy.” Her fingers are back to running over your bare skin instead of where you’re starting to feel an ache for her. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are already blown. With the lingerie top hanging off you, you’re the very picture of debauchery. Just the way Yuki likes you. “C’mon then.” 

One piece of clothing finally comes sliding off, leaving you in just your panties. She kneels down carelessly in front of you, her hands greedily gripping onto your hips as she blows warm air towards your aching core. She kisses your covered clit with a messy and loud ‘mwah’ that has you trying to close your legs, although you’re not sure whether it’s out of embarrassment or pleasure. But she doesn’t let you. In a motion that seems effortless, she hooks your legs over her shoulders, locking you into place. 

“Stay still, princess. And I promise I’ll give you a good reward for it, okay?” Yuki sends you a wink which has you squirming in protest. 

Before you can voice your distress, she’s touching your heat with her pretty fingers, pulling your panties to the side and teasing your hole open. And she knows just how to do it right as well; knows exactly where to press down on your inner thighs with her other hand to have you aching for just a little more pleasure. It’s so slow, the way she traces your hole with two of her fingers, occasionally flicking up towards your sensitive bud. 

“Mmh… Yuki!��� To your dismay, your voice stutters through your uneven breathing as she touches you. 

“Here?” Yuki murmurs, turning her head to nibble your thigh and giving the bare patch of skin a kitten lick. “You’re all shaky. Don’t go shy on me now. You were so upset when I came back late. Aren’t you going to tell me off?”  

You don’t want to. You don’t even remember that she came back late, too busy focused on her fingers, too busy wanting her mouth– 

Yuki pauses, grinning between your legs. “Easy. Tell me off and don’t hold back about it.” This isn’t fair. 

You let out a frustrated sound, inching towards the edge of the bed to be closer to her face. She follows your movements, pulling back slightly. 

“You should have taken better care of your phone–” A gasp leaves your lips as she sucks your clit into her mouth gently. How the hell does she want you to tell her off when she’s so determined to please you? “Should’ve gotten a new– ahh– one…” 

“That’s the best you can do?” She’s speaking directly into your heat. It feels hot. Her tongue dives inside, and you lose your mind. A swath of pleasure courses through your veins and your hips jerk uncontrollably into her warm mouth. Good thing she’s got such a good grip on you. It’s so wet, and it sounds so sloppy, the way that her mouth sucks and the way her tongue curls into you. It’s not enough to hit that spot, but it’s enough for you to jerk forward, a hand twining through her hair desperately. 

A low whine leaves your lips. She continues her action, squeezing your thighs every time they clench. You’re not even sure how she’s still managing to keep your legs spread apart from how tightly you’re trying to curl them around her head, but she seems to be enjoying it. Her fingers join the mix as her mouth moves to your clit, and suck hard, just as her fingers push their way inside you. Too easy. The moan that leaves her mouth, along with a breathless mumble of your name has you mewling again. 

You should probably feel embarrassed at how quickly they slide in, but you’re too distracted by the way her fingers curve up, right onto a spot that has your mind blanking. It comes all too suddenly, the sudden onslaught of pleasure causing the tightening in your stomach to release. 

“Yuki– that feels really– mnh!” 

Her eyes look up at you, noting the way your head tilts back slightly, the red flush covering your cheeks and waits for you to look at her again. “There you are.” 

Your arms are trembling from the exertion of holding yourself up, and from the constant flexing of muscles as Yuki touches your sensitive bud and sends a pleasurable tremor through your whole body again. “Yuki.” You breathe out. Her mouth is wet from you. 

“Mmm, yes?” She must know how she looks while kneeling in between your legs like that with that innocent smile on her face. A laugh sneaks out from her throat as your mouth drops open. Yuki traces two fingers up and down your slick. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk too much.” 

Your hips jerk in sensitivity. A thrill of desperation runs through you when she pulls her fingers away, a sticky trail following her action. Pleasure thrums through your thighs at the thought of more. It must be messy. You must have made that mess. Your heart rate picks up again. Yuki licks her lips before she says her next words. 

“I know what you’re really after.” She pulls away from you and another whine leaves your lips at the loss of her warm mouth. “Shh, you’ve been so good to me so far, so compliant. Don’t stop now.” She eases out of her clothing easily, tossing it to the side as she clambers on top of you, moving you further back onto the bed like it’s nothing. 

Her voice continues as she adjusts the both of you, wrapping one of your legs around her waist. “You don’t want something filling you up today, huh? You just want me on top.” 

“What?” You ask breathlessly. You can feel it. She’s wet too, she must be for those sorts of sounds to be heard from where she’s using her hips to grind against you. “You always have so much to s– mnh!” She presses down hard with her hips, just at where both your sensitive buds brush against each other. 

She leans down, pressing your chests against each other briefly and you can feel her heart racing as she pants. 

“Sometimes.” She whispers into your ear, pushing against you harder at an angle that has you slack-jawed. “You’re so needy. And when you want something inside…” Somehow she manages to slide her fingers in during her motions, pulling it out quickly and you can feel your walls flutter at the loss. 

“Y-Yuki–” 

“You’ll beg and whine.” She stresses the words, leaning back up again to go a little faster. She doesn’t let your leg slide off her waist, holding onto you tightly to keep her stable on top. “Just like how you are now.” 

All you can do is cling onto her waist as she moves on top of you fluidly. 

“Always so messy.” She coos, wiping a sweaty strand of hair away from your face . “You never let me take my time with you, huh?” 

It’s overwhelming, and you think you’re blabbering some nonsense about how it feels good, but it doesn’t even sound like words to you. You’re too far gone with how her hips are moving against yours; slowly, but somehow, sending so much through your body.

“But you like this.” She slows again, moving her hips in a circling motion as you try to catch your breath. “You’d prefer me to just take you, right?” 

Your voice shakes and you’re writhing under her touch, but she’s a little too accustomed to keeping you still. “It’s too much!” Gasping, you feel your mind become overtaken with pleasure. You can feel Yuki, all warm, her weight pressing down on you pleasurably into the sheets. You can feel another tightening in your belly, and it’s hot. It’s really, really hot. A breath of her name leaves your lips instead. 

“Thought of you a lot while I was gone.” She murmurs, pushing into you a little harder. “How did I know I’d come home to you dressed up as a little present for me to unwrap?” 

It’s the sound of her excited laugh that finally pushes you over the edge, a white-hot searing feeling thrumming through your body. Just seeing you lose control under her has her reaching her high too, letting out a breath of your name that you don’t hear through your pounding heart and ringing in your ears. 

You throw your arm over your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Yuki’s hands massage your shoulders, once, twice, and then she pulls back tenderly. Letting go of your leg comes first, and then she kneels between your legs again. A choked whine leaves your lips as you feel her kiss your clit. It’s too much. Thankfully, she realises it too and lets you try to relax on your own. Every slow movement sends an electric thrum through your body as you try to stretch out your body. It doesn’t hurt. It just still feels a little too good. 

“So, Valentine’s Day, huh?” Yuki’s voice breaks through your clouded head. It sounds slightly muffled. Slowly, you let your arm fall off your face, staring at the ceiling. 

“Mhm.” You voice back, throat still spent from half-heard moans and trying to speak while your body shakes with aftershocks of pleasure. 

Yuki places a kiss on your forehead, arranging you properly onto the mattress. A small grunt leaves your lips as she sits on top of you. She tilts her head, keeping you in her line of vision. “I didn’t know you were the type to want to celebrate things like that.” 

You shrug your shoulders. There’s a pause and you dare to peek at her face. Her expression is neutral, but you know better. It’s her thinking face. What could she possibly be thinking about? Was it weird? 

In all your time together, you’d never really made a big deal of celebrations. Neither had she. She was happy with whatever you wanted, whether it be a party or something with just the two of you. Tsukumo Yuki is no pushover. She argued calmly, never raising her voice. You met her friends and she met yours, and they were all such wildly different and interesting people that you’d started to realise where her confident and bold nature had arisen from. You often lost track of all the people she knew. The perks of travelling the world, you decided.

She laughs, loudly and unashamed. It should startle you, but it just makes you look in her direction instead.. “Something funny?”

“No.” Yuki leans down, elbows placed above your shoulders as her hand delicately runs through your hair. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

You curl your fingers to the side of her cheek, sliding your fingers through some of her hair. “Mmh. You’re upset because you didn’t plan anything for us, huh?” 

Her eyes close briefly as she feels your touch. She shrugs, and thankfully, there’s no sign of an apology on her face. “Next time.”  

“Oh, there’s a next time?” 

“I’m going somewhere next month.” She ignores your question, moving to sit beside you instead, stretching her legs out unabashedly, taking up space like she always did. You move to sit up beside her as well, eyes not moving off her lips mouthing off her words. 

“Oh.” Without meaning to, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest. There’s never anything wrong with her business trips. She made reasons to go places but she always came home to you. She always made sure that you knew that you never strayed from her thoughts while she was overseas. It was like this before you’d started dating. Still. Something about her bringing it up to you now felt insincere, like she was pushing herself away from you. You two were dating, sure. Did she love you? Did you love her? Did that even matter at this point in time? 

Yuki turns her head to face you properly, and you can finally see her face. It causes an odd thump in your heart. Her face is relaxed and her eyebrows aren’t lightly furrowed in thought like they usually are. There are still things you don’t know about her. 

“I want you to come with me.” She says simply, as though those words haven’t frozen you in place. 

This is new. This is unexpected. Tsukumo Yuki might as well have just proposed. 

Your fists clench on the mattress. “I don’t have the money or the time set aside right now to–” 

“My treat. I’ll pay.” She cuts you off. 

It means more than that. You can see it in her eyes, the calculating tilt of her head as though she’s wondering what you’ll say next. She never minces words and says whatever she thinks or feels out loud brashly. So why did it feel like she was dancing around something else here? 

Your response comes out as a mumble, still trying to catch up with what’s actually going on. “Okay.” 

“Just okay?!” 

You nod. She responds to your acceptance by grumbling something under her breath. It has you leaning closer, trying to figure out what she said. “What was that?” 

“I said,” she pauses in favour of swiping a thumb over your cheek, sighing. “That I don’t know what I expected.” 

You blink up her confusedly. Your mind is still a little bleary, and you’re sure you’re going to fall asleep soon. Your whole body feels the happy tiredness that comes after every session with Yuki. But you refuse to let it take over. Not before you know. Not before she tells you what’s really on her mind. 

“Look.” She sighs again, turning to face you properly and crossing her legs. “This is new to me.” 

Dazed, you feel yourself laugh at the thought. You were friends before this. You were one of the many people she met up with when she craved friendly company, and then suddenly she wasn’t. Suddenly, you were going on dates and moving in together. For some reason, the thought of this being new to her was hilarious. 

“I’m being serious!” She says back, not in an annoyed way, but rather like stating a fact. “You, me, I’ve never done this before. Taking things further has never been something I’ve thought about.” Her voice trails off. “I like this though.” 

You feel your breath hitch. There it was – unequivocal truths. 

“When I was away this time, I kept thinking about you, waiting at home. And then when I was at the airport, without my phone…” She rolls her eyes at the memory, raising an eyebrow at you when you chuckle. “I was really thinking about how awful it was that I couldn’t contact you in some way, to tell you that I was coming home.” 

There’s an odd stress on her final word. You think you get it now. “Hmm,” is all you reply with. 

“So it makes sense that I’d want you to come with me. Then I don’t have to worry about it anymore.” 

You snort. “Solving the problem as it comes your way, huh?” 

“Obviously.” She smiles at you, running a hand through your hair and nudging you closer to her bare form. She only continues once you’re comfortably leaning against her side. A loud, contented sigh leaves her lips. “So come with me.” She whispers, so that only you can hear it, even though it’s only you two in this room. 

You nod, feeling her kiss your head. “Okay.” 

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[butwhyduh]

Locker Room

Summary: Post workout locker rooms are like their own world. Especially Titan’s tower.

Warning: smut. Don’t do this irl

“Good job, everybody,” Nightwing said with a grin. He has barely had a glean of sweat to show he was even working out. “Practice your individual skills or hit the showers.”

Half the people walked out and the other found their own niche. You were laying on your back on the cool mat just trying to not die. A shadow stood over you.

“Need help,” said a soft male voice above you before offering a hand. Tall and built like a brick, there was a lot to be intimidated of the Red Hood. But wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless hoodie that had headphone strings sticking out made him seem so normal.

He pulled you up to stand. He was so pretty with wavy black hair with just a tuff of white. You’d watched him plenty but rarely interacted with him.

“Will I ever get used to this,” you asked with a huff of laughter. You tried to ignore the way his sweaty hoodie stuck to his skin in certain places.

“No? Yes? I can’t take Goldie seriously but,” he shrugged. “Maybe you should drink your water next time?” He offered while tossing you the bottle. You chugged it like you had been walking in a desert for a month. “Wow,” he said, watching the water messily fall on your shirt that was already drenched. If you wouldn’t have to clean it up, you’d probably pour the water on your head.

Realizing you had an audience to your gremlin behavior, you tried to wipe the water from your mouth but it wasn’t exactly helpful as you were soaking wet.

“Yeah maybe more inside than out. I’ve got hit the showers,” he said, bemused.

“Same,” you replied.

The showers were more like a locker room with little stalls with paltry curtains that were only a little more private than just open stalls but everyone used them as if normal. Most people understood the unspoken rules but there had been more than one time where you’d seen kori brushing her hair in the nude by a mirror completely oblivious to the social norms.

You didn’t even bother with the hot water but relaxed into the cold water finally cooling your overheated skin. It didn’t take much for you to relax into the shower and forget about the outside world. A full 30 minutes later you were pruny and decided to climb out of the water.

Forgoing the bra and sweatpants, you just slid into your oversized tee shirt like dress. You were just going to your room where you would veg and watch Netflix. Most people had already left to go do whatever they needed and you could finally see the mirror to brush your own hair.

“‘Scuse me,” said a man to your right and you scooted over as the Red Hood slid up to the sink with a shave kit. You didn’t even know what to call him outside of work. And his pretty blue eyes kept your attention longer than you’d admit.

“I’ve never seen you without a mask,” you said. He shrugged.

“Seems like a shower would be a safe spot. It’s just my eyes I cover anyways,” he added.

You couldn’t just stare into his eyes so you looked down and boy was that a mistake. He had a huge y shaped scar that you didn’t even want to know how he got but you couldn’t help but notice how insanely fit he was. He definitely had visible muscle but it was also clear the boy could put some food away.

You tried to focus on your own stuff while he shaved. He wasn’t meat to stare at.

“I don’t even know your real name or what else to call you besides Red Hood,” you added.

“Oh… you can call me Jason,” he replied softly. He stretched his neck to better reach a spot and you looked at the cord of muscle that moved. Did he know he was beautiful??

“You missed a spot,” you said when it looked like he was going to rinse his face, not that you had been watching. He looked in the mirror but it was on the underside of his jaw. “No, here,” you said pointing to the spot. He turned and missed it with the razor.

“Here?”

“No, can I?” You asked and he handed you his razor. You gently turned his face to run the razor along the underside of his jaw. Your skin heated up as he watched you shave his face. Somehow you had slid between him and the sink to get at the spot. “It’s on both sides,” you said and he willingly turned his neck the opposite direction.

He smelled nice like a mint soap and you could see the dampness of his skin being this close. Your own lack of clothing felt obvious at this point. He could probably see your nipples if he wanted to. What did this look like?

“Got it?” He asked and you just nodded and handed him to razor. He sat it behind you and grabbed the towel on your other side to wipe his face. He had caged you in but you didn’t mind. In fact your heart was hammering in your chest.

His eyes looked down at you and down your clothing, stopping for a few seconds at your chest before returning to your eyes. You looked down at his mouth. He leaned down until he was just a breath from your lips.

It took just a tilt of your head to press your lips to his. He gripped the sink as you kissed. You slid a hand up behind his neck to pull him closer. He took it as an invitation to push you up on the counter. You gasped and wrapped both arms around his neck.

One arm held your hip as the other did its best to thread in your hair. His tongue swiped across your lip and you opened your mouth with a little moan. Fuck. You never imagined you’d do this. You pulled back just enough to bite his lip and he groaned while placing his hand on your thigh.

Barely controlling himself, he pulled his lips back only to rest his forehead on yours.

“Not here,” he breathed and you weren’t sure if he meant to tell you or himself.

“No one is here,” you said pulling him even closer with your legs around his waist. His lips instantly met yours with a desperation that wasn’t there a minute before. He pushed you back with his kisses and your back pressed against the mirror while your shirt did little to hide your underwear with your thighs open.

“Fuck,” he breathed when you began kissing your way down his neck. One of your hands slid down his chests, feeling the muscles move with each breath, each side of your hand down. His hand gripped your thigh tightly as if to control himself. But as you slid your fingers along the crotch of his gym shorts, he seemed to lose control. His hand slid up your thigh to cup your pussy through your panties and you could feel a pulse in your clit.

He was growing hard in your hands as you massaged and stroked him. He pulled back from kissing to nip at your collarbone and down your chest. Only his other hand behind your back kept you from falling over as he bent to take your peaked nipple in his mouth. You arched into his touch as his mouth teased your breast while his fingers slid along your slit through your panties.

You pressed your fingers through the band of his pants to grip him properly. “Fuck,” he gasped and you grinned. He pushed your panties to the side to properly finger you. You almost arched off the counter as he slid two fingers inside you. You both just enjoyed the sensation for a minute of pleasuring each other.

“Want you,” you breathed in his ear and he whined. You shoved his pants down and his hood pushed forward until you could feel his tip next to your core.

“You sure,” he asked as if it took every part of him to remain calm.

“Fuck me,” you replied and that’s all it took for him to push in. He pulled your shirt off before starting to thrust. One hand held your hip tightly and his lips desperately kissed you.

The door to the locker room opened and Jason just growled, “get the fuck out,” but didn’t stop. The door closed suddenly. You knew in the future you be mortified but right now the only thing you cared about was making him keep doing the things he was doing to you.

It took just a few runs of his thumb across your clit to have you clenching around him while gasping his name. He thrust through your high before pulling out to cum on your stomach. You both panted and stared at each other.

“Fuck,” Jason said while giving you a towel to clean off with. You sat up awkwardly. Did he regret it already? “I didn’t mean- shit- I was trying to ask you out,” he huffed out with an awkward laugh. “Not this.”

“I mean- you still can,” you replied while pulling your shirt on.

“Do you wanna-“

“Thought you’d never ask. There’s this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try,” you replied before he could even ask. He huffed a laugh.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

Banging on the locker room door made you jump. “If you hoes are done, I need a shower! Don’t forget to clean up!” Called a recognizable voice from outside the door.

“Go away Roy,” Jason called.

“Congrats bro! Finally! But hurry up!”

You flushed and you both laughed. “Finally?”

“Don’t ask.”

[sometimesanalice]

Days Like This

Summary: When your day goes from bad to terrible to worse, Bradley is there to help pick you back up.

Warnings: a lot of feels and a soft ending. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

The traffic on the highway getting home from where you worked was particularly disgusting for 2pm on a Tuesday.

The tint on the darkest pair of the many sunglasses you kept in your car wasn’t doing anything to help with the migraine that has started out at work as a whisper but had steadily built to a full roar. The California sun glaring down on you through your window wasn’t doing anything to help the pressure behind your eyes or the pain radiating throughout your head.

You wanted to be home.

The day started out nicely, perfectly even. Bradley’s lecture for the day had been pushed back, so he was still there in bed with you when you had woken up. And the two of you got to enjoy your coffee and breakfast together al fresco under the foliage of the tree that was built into your outdoor deck, soaking up each other and the morning sun before it got too hot.

All of Bradley’s bronze skin was on display in the sunlight as he had only been wearing a pair of sweatpants, his soft UVA t-shirt missing since it was on you instead. The neighbors were probably getting an eyeful, but the chances were high that they’ve already seen you both in much less.

His eyes had lit up and he had let out a low whistle when you came back down the stairs in the outfit you had worn for going into the office. It was just a formfitting navy pencil skirt and striped cotton button down, but that didn’t stop him from crowding you up against the white marble counter. His hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

“Bradley,” you sighed leaning back, letting his broad, warm body support you, “I can’t show up to work all wrinkled.”

You could feel the outline of him through his heathered gray sweatpants, and it worked for you.

Everything about him worked for you.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” he murmured in your ear. His hands sliding around to the exposed zipper in the back, fingers playing with the pull tab there, “Let’s take it off then.”

And you were tempted. So, so tempted as he teased his mustache along your neck.

“I’m going to be late,” you said, spinning to wrap your arms around his neck. The taste of coffee on his tongue was better than anything out of a mug.

“C’mon, kid,” he coaxed against your mouth, his voice pure seduction, “Let me give you a proper send off.”

His hands had found the top button of your blue and white striped shirt, slipping it out of its buttonhole to expose a couple more inches of your skin to his eyes.

You didn’t have any meetings until later in the morning, and his mouth was your favorite kind of distraction. Especially the way he was lazily working his way along your jawline.

“You always smell so good,” he hummed into your skin. Those sly and precise hands undid another button before sliding one under your shirt. His finger tracing along the line of the scalloped line of your bra.

And then you remembered just what exactly you were wearing under that button down and pencil skirt that was driving him so crazy. If Bradley were to discover what you had on, you would have definitely been late for work.

That was a surprise for him to find later.

He tugged on the collar of your button down to get another glimpse of you and at what secrets resided beneath your top.

“Bradley!” you laughed swatting at his hands you tried to pull away. Working quickly to rebutton the ones he had managed to get undone while you had been preoccupied with his mouth.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he winked at you, still running his hands along your body.

“No, of course not,” you tease, rolling your eyes in amusement, “However, I do reserve the right to blame you if I am late for work.”

“You could always just tell them you were late because you were doing your patriotic duty. Don’t they give you paid volunteer hours at that place?” he asked with a wicked smirk before letting you go with one final squeeze to your hips.

��I don’t think me volunteering for another round of patriotic sex on the kitchen island is what they meant when they gave us those paid community hours. Even if it is technically in service and support for the property of the US Navy.”

You leaned in for one more quick kiss, coping a quick feel of his ass as you darted out of his reach and towards the entryway before he could pull you back in again, “Please send my thanks to Uncle Sam.”

He chuckled, as he leaned against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles with his mug of coffee back in his hands, “Have a good day, kid.”

You gathered your things and were almost out the door when Bradley called out to you.

“Hey! You forgot something.”

You paused to check your bag, confused about what could have possibly been missing. Once your laptop, phone, wallet, and keys had all been accounted for you turned back towards him to see what had been overlooked in your haste to get out the door.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

Oh, he was so gone for you.

You didn’t think you would ever get over how handsome Bradley was, especially when he was smiling at you with such warmth and affection.

“I love you too,” you grinned back at him, before sauntering out the door with a cheeky salute, “See you later, Lieutenant Commander.”

And then you hit every goddamn red light possible on your way into work.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

Things had gone from bad to worse in the few minutes it had taken you to walk through the main door of your building towards your office.

There hadn’t even been time to make a stop at the fancy espresso machine that was in the break room before your work nemesis, Grace, was charging at you in the hallway to rant about the derailed timelines for a project that you were both assigned to for one of the biggest clients on your company’s account roster.

It was clear as you looked over the spreadsheets she had printed out, still holding your heavy work tote on your shoulder, that there wouldn’t be any way to salvage the mess and that the deliverables wouldn't be ready in time for the client’s target deadline.

When she left in an angry huff marching towards the direction of your boss’ office, your stomach was aching from the twisted knots that had formed in your lower abdomen. The idea of the coffee you had been looking forward to was now the last thing on your mind, not that the caffeine would be good for your elevated levels of anxiety.

Both you and Grace were in the running for the same promotion, and you knew without a doubt that she was going to try and pin all the poor planning on you.

As if she wasn’t the one who’d essentially elbowed you out of the way for this portion of the project claiming that she had been further along in the planning process and that “it would be redundant and a waste time and resources for us to both work on this.”

She had dodged your attempts to collaborate, stonewalling you at every possible turn. You had been excluded from important meetings multiple times and had been asked to do duplicate work even though your own plate was already overloaded from all the slack you were picking up. You had found so many errors in what little information she had sent your way, that you were having to redo most everything as it came to you.

While you had been debating going to your boss to inform her of the ongoing issues, you had held off because even though you kept things professional at the office, it wasn’t a secret that the two of you weren’t exactly the best of friends. And you had been worried she might have brushed it off as interpersonal issues rather than Grace’s clear attempts to sabotage you.

So, you couldn’t say you were surprised when you were called into an emergency meeting with both your boss, Joanna, and the bane of your existence less than forty minutes later. And even less surprised when Grace pointed the finger at you in that condescending manner of hers that had gotten under your skin from the very first day you met her.

However, you had come prepared. You listened tolerantly as she listed off all the things that you’d allegedly done wrong before speaking up.

“To my understanding, all the things you just listed fell under the portion of the project that you claimed responsibility for,” you stated, trying to keep your voice from sounding tight and clipped.

What she didn’t realize as she tried to place the blame on you was that your receipts had receipts. And you proceeded to hand over the file folder of all the email correspondence you had saved and collected during the project to your manager.

“And am I allowed to know just what exactly that is?” Grace demanded.

“Of course, it’s simply our emails. So the content of that file won’t come as a surprise to you,” you replied as neutrally as possible.

You had highlighted all the important requests that were denied or ignored completely, the obvious errors, and the work that she had claimed credit for that was actually yours.

And the smoking gun, was a message you had received a notification about on Slack that was clearly posted to the wrong channel where Grace was all but admitting that she was purposefully giving you wrong information to work with. And while she had been quick to delete it, you had been quicker to get a screenshot of it.

You had conveniently placed that bit on the top of the pile to be the first thing your boss would see.

“I’m sorry for not coming to you sooner about this,” you said sincerely to your boss, “I had no clue things had spiraled out of control this bad until this morning. And after you review that file, I am sure you’ll see why.”

You tried to keep your fidgeting under control seated in the boucle chair as she skimmed over the first couple of pages, glancing between you and your work nemesis. The tension palpable and oppressive in the room.

Normally you loved being in Joanna’s office, it was tastefully chic with a white lacquer desk and a large Fiddle Fig tree in the corner. And your boss was always the type to indulge in a little pop culture talk, the two of you had had many a coffee break in there together, but at that moment you couldn’t wait to get back to your own office and away from Grace.

“The two of you are dismissed for now while I review this. In the meantime, I expect you both to work on finding what solutions we have at our disposal to get this back on track.”

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

The migraine came on steadily after that meeting. From the stress or the lack of sufficent caffeine you couldn’t say.

Your heart had been racing since you had left Joanna's office, and not in the fun way that Bradley was usually responsible for.

God, what had you been thinking to turn down more morning sex with Bradley Bradshaw? Even if it would have ruined the surprise you had planned, at least the additional post-orgasm endorphin high might have helped you get through the day better.

Maybe you definitely should have let him have his way that morning.

You were feeling on the brink of an anxiety attack an hour later when your boss called you back for a follow-up meeting.

Popping a couple CBD tablets and wiping your damp shaky hands on your sleek navy skirt, you saved the minimal amount of work you’d been able to get done while you had been spiraling before getting up to stop by the restroom before your one-on-one.

In the quiet of the bathroom, you disrobed enough to work the pretty yet impractical one piece you were wearing down your body when you realized the stress alone wasn’t the only reason for why your stomach had been hurting all morning.

For a moment you felt nothing. And then you felt everything.

No. No. No.

The tears prickled behind your eyes, and you had to bite your lip hard to keep from crying. Your day had already gone from bad to terrible to worse, and now this.

You wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t cry.

No.

You wouldn’t let yourself cry.

You wouldn’t cry and Bradley wouldn’t get to see the surprise you had planned for him because the gusset of that more-expensive-than-it-should-have-been delicate and lovely sheer white French lace bodysuit you had secretly bought and slipped on this morning was stained a bright crimson red.

Steeling yourself against the swell of emotions that was threatening to drag you down, you perfunctorily folded up a wad of toilet paper and placed it in the center of the lining as you shimmed the formerly-stunning-but-now-ruined lingerie back up.

Just another thing that had gone wrong today. Just another problem to be dealt with later. Just one more thing that made you wish you’d never got out of bed this morning.

Tucking your shirt back in, you pushed everything out of your mind. You would not be the woman showing up to your boss’ office with streaky make up and puffy eyes.

After washing your hands and giving yourself a critical once over in the gold rimmed mirror and straightening your skirt just so, you had made your way to your over to Joanna’s corner office.

She didn’t keep you on tenterhooks for very long, letting you know that she had passed along the folder of information you had given her to HR and that Grace had been sent home for the day. While the clients were unhappy with the delays, she had managed to convince them of the merits of pushing back the project by a few weeks, giving your team the opportunity to clean up the mess.

For the time being, she would be taking over the project account until the internal investigation was completed by HR, but she anticipated being able to turn the reins back over to you alone very shortly. And then in the strictest confidentiality within the sanctity of her cozy yet aesthetic office, she had all but confirmed that the promotion you had been working so hard for was always going to be yours.

While she reassured you that she was on your side, you still couldn’t help feeling like you’d let her down. And then with a nod and an edict to not worry about anything, she also sent you home for the day too.

You wanted to be home.

You wanted to be in your bed.

You wanted to be under your soft green comforter.

You wanted to be on Bradley’s side of the bed.

The drive home felt like the longest fifty minutes of your life.

The traffic was always terrible, but today it was worse. You would never understand why Californians couldn’t figure out how to merge on the highway. It was supposed to be a zipper, not a game of chicken to see how close you could get to someone without actually hitting them.

And then seeing the man who was too old to be selling flowers on the cement divider in the middle of the road at one of the red lights you had been stuck at only added another bruise to your already battered heart.

Not even when you finally pulled up to the house you loved so much had helped to ease the pain of the day. You weren’t hit with the same rush of delight as you usually were when you arrived back to the home you shared with Bradley.

You didn’t know it was possible for such a fairytale home to exist in San Diego, but it did and it was yours.

The charming 1930’s white Tudor had a set of four diamond paneled windows in the front that were warm and welcoming. The large cement pavers up the slope of the lawn lead you to a black door that had an abundance of vintage character.

The house was situated picturesquely under a large Tipuana tree. Bradley was always complaining about the little yellow flowers when they littered the lawn, but you loved the cheerful floral confetti. Which is probably why he left them there for you waiting until they were withered and brown before blowing them into the street.

It had absolutely stolen your breath away the first time you saw it.

The two of you had been driving around in the Bronco one afternoon with Van Morrison playing on the radio just enjoying the afternoon sun after a week of rain. You had gasped when he drove by the house as the agent was attempting to put up the For Sale sign.

Other than the time at the seaside restaurant when you and Bradley had decided to go all in on each other, you had never been so struck with a feeling of such resolute surety. It was meant to be your house.

Your home with Bradley.

He must have felt it too because he’d barely gotten the Bronco in Park before he had leapt out of the car jogging up to the agent, the car still running and the keys in the ignition.

You’ll never know what he said to the woman as he helped her to get the post for the sign situated in the corner of the lot since you had been trying to actually turn the car off before getting unbuckled and out of the car yourself.

Maybe it had been his words. Maybe it had been the flight suit. Maybe it had been kismet. Whatever it was it worked, since she ended up giving you both an impromptu viewing of the home right then and there.

And 30 minutes after that you and Bradley were putting in an offer on the house, one that was accepted a couple days later.

Your movements were mechanical in the way you get out of your car and into your home. Not bothering to move your heels from where you kicked them off by the door or to pick up your work tote from where it had fallen over.

All you could focus on was moving from one task to the next, determined to not let yourself fall apart. Tossing your clothes in the laundry room as you made your way to your bedroom to close the blinds, finally giving your eyes the break from the light they had needed all day.

Bradley’s well-worn shirt was still where you had left it in the bathroom earlier from when you had changed after your perfect breakfast with him. Before your day had imploded.

Pulling it on over your head, letting Bradley’s scent wash over you, as you finally crawled into your bed with a ragged sigh.

You were home.

You were in your bed.

You were under your soft green comforter.

You were on Bradley’s side of the bed.

You wanted Bradley.

You wanted Bradley.

You wanted Bradley.

With that as your final thought on repeat like a lullaby of longing, you finally let yourself slide away.

Nothing could wipe the grin from Bradley’s face as he drove home with the California sun shining down on him.

He was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the successful hop he had completed earlier in the day.

As part of the training for the newest batch of Top Gun students, he and Mav had been tasked with demonstrating some advanced technical maneuvers before participating in a dog fight exercise. Where he had successfully gotten a lock and pulled tone on his friend and mentor for the first time in a long while.

The glimpse of white lace he had caught earlier that morning in the kitchen when he had sneaked a peek down your oversized shirt had been on his mind all day. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, wondering whether or not his eyes had been playing tricks on him.

Either way he couldn’t wait to find out.

He had even already queued up all of your favorite dishes for the Chinese food delivery he was planning on ordering a little later in the evening. You were going to get his full attention tonight.

There was nothing he loved more than getting creative and putting that canopy bed to the test, and so far the overpriced-but-well-built bed hadn’t let him down.

He was going to enjoy his time taking you apart bit by bit.

Normally, he was the one to always beat you home, so he was surprised but elated to see your car parked in the drive way. He might need to order that food earlier than he expected, now that there was more time to work up an appetite and you both would need your sustenance for what he had planned.

Whistling to himself as he got out of the Bronco, he unzipped his flight suit and tugged it down tying the arms around his waist, he knew what you liked. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t the star in all your fantasies.

The door was already unlocked, which wasn’t like you. He imagined you probably forgot to lock it in a haste to get inside to grab a cold glass of rosé before catching up on some reality tv on the couch.

He hoped you weren’t watching the newest episode of Below Deck without him. He wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, but you had gotten him hooked on the show. Captain Lee reminded him of one of the Commanders he’d had during flight school.

Walking in he was a little annoyed to find your shoes and bag littered on the floor of the entry. He likes to keep things tidy, while you like to keep things “lived in”. Bending down he undid his shoes and picked up your things. Putting your bag in the coat closet for you, out of sight out of mind. He knew you didn’t like to bring work home with you if you could avoid it.

Your heels were dangling from his fingers as he turned the corner, expecting to see you curled up on the oversized gray sectional, but you’re weren’t there.

Huh.

As he stands in the living room and listens. He can’t hear the sound of the tv from the bedroom either, the house is silent. Trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that was taking up residency in his chest, he made his way to the bedroom. The driving need to find you, to check in on you, was the only thing on his mind now.

He opens the door to your bedroom quietly. The room is darkened, but there are faint rays of sunlight making their way past the edges of the blackout blinds he had installed. And he feels instant relief when he sees you curled up on this side of the bed, head pressed against his pillow.

Being mindful of the edge of the rug, trying to not disturb you, he carefully approaches you kneeling in front of where you’re resting. Your face is still clearly holding the strain of the day, and your eyebrows were knitted together. He lightly brushes the hair away from your face, and even in sleep you seek his touch, head moving slightly to chase the feeling of his fingers.

The pressure in his chest lessening, seeing you safe and sound in your shared bed. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before he stands up putting your heels back in the walk-in closet, and makes his way to the bathroom.

He wanted to rinse the smell of sweat and jet fuel off before he laid in bed with you. Undoing his flight suit the rest of the way he kicks it off, and his eyes snag on the open box of tampons sitting on top of the bathroom counter.

He is quick to undress the rest of the way, and rushes through his usual post-work shower routine doing just the bare minimum. Just some soap and shampoo, he wouldn’t be waiting the five minutes that was recommended on the back of your conditioner bottle that he liked to use sometimes to keep his hair soft.

Once he is dried off enough to pull on the pair of sweatpants he had worn earlier that morning, he makes his way back to you. Lifting up the covers on your side of the bed to slide in behind you. Wrapping an arm around you as he pressed himself closer to you, and you sighed lightly at the contact.

He lets his eyes drift close as he holds you. He didn’t know exactly what kind of a day you had had, but all that mattered to him was that he would be there for you when you woke up.

You’re warm.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist.

You’re warm and there’s an arm draped over your waist and a solid chest pressed against your back.

And for the first time since you’d left the house this morning things didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had been when you were on your own.

“Bradley?” you whisper in the quiet of your bedroom.

You so desperately want him to be awake, you just want him right now.

Please be awake.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” he murmurs, and the relief that washes over you is strong and immediate.

You turn over, needing to be closer to him, wanting to lose yourself in his warmth and to never leave this bed again.

He opens his arms for you, smoothing out some of your sleep-matted hair behind your ear as you drape yourself over him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, your throat thick with emotion.

He’s looking at you so softly, so tenderly. A crease between his eyebrows as he searches your eyes, as he reads you in that way that no one else does. And you know he knows.

There’s no stopping the cry that erupts from deep in your chest. There’s no holding back the tears that have been prickling behind your eyelids all day.

His gentleness is the thing that ends up being your undoing.

Bradley just pulls you closer, tucking your head into the safe space in the nook of his neck, as you shake with the sobs that reverberate throughout your whole body. Quietly shushing you soothingly as he kisses the crown of your head.

And when he picks up your left hand and kisses the pair of rings that have a home there in an unspoken vow, it only makes you cry harder.

The Toi et Moi engagement ring had never left your ring finger since the day Bradley put it there. Carole’s round diamond nestled next to your mom’s oval shaped one were fixed together permanently in gold. It was only fitting that you carried both of them with you always, a reminder of how their friendship was the beginning of you and Bradley.

Your wedding band had been forged from the melted remains of that symbol of love between the man you never met and the woman who had loved you like a daughter, the people responsible for bringing the love of your life into the world.

Through the sounds of your weeping, Bradley’s quiet murmurs made it to your ears and his words wrapped themselves around your heart.

The delicate I’m sorrys, the soft I’m heres, the gentle I’ve got yous, the tender I love yous.

You heard every single one of them as he repeated them over and over again as you gave yourself up to the tidal wave of emotions that you had been fighting to suppress all day.

You and Bradley had been married for a little two years. You were perfectly happy with your life. Bradley was perfectly happy with your life. And that was all that mattered.

You didn’t feel that ticking clock that seemed to follow women over a certain age around like a dark cloud. Neither one of you was in a particular rush, more than happy to enjoy the process and to take full advantage of that large canopy bed in your bedroom.

There was time, you had time.

However, seeing that stain on the pretty-but-now-probably-ruined lacy lingerie had hit you harder than you ever could have expected.

You and Bradley had only been trying for a couple of months. And logically you knew better, knew that it might take some time to happen.

You knew better, yet your heart hadn’t been given the same message.

And with all of the work drama lately, you really should have thought about how the stress might have played a role when you were a few days late instead of letting yourself get ahead of yourself. You had already been planning on stopping by the convenience store after work to pick up a box of tests, and instead you had come home with a new box of tampons.

Before Bradley, you had never given much thought about being a mother or starting a family. But being with Bradley? Thinking about how he would be the best partner and best dad to a child that was half him and half you, there was nothing more that you wanted than that future.

You wanted it. Oh, you wanted it.

You can feel the burning trail of every hot tear that made its way down your face as Bradley rubbed small circles on your back with his large hand in the sanctuary of your bedroom.

Crying over the work shit that you hated bringing home with you. Of how it felt to be so viciously thrown under the bus and then the relief of knowing your boss sided with you.

Crying over the elderly man selling flowers on the street corner you had seen on your way home and the sad hunch of his back.

Crying over the pretty lace bodysuit that was soaking in the sink of the laundry room that might not never be the same again. And the fact that Bradley never got to see you in it.

Crying over what wasn’t meant to be. At least not right now.

You cried over all of it. All at once. All while Bradley held you, cradled you, loved you.

In your home.

In your bed.

Under the soft green comforter.

On his side of the bed.

His chest ached at the sound of your sobs.

It was agony to feel so helpless as you cried into neck, as he felt your tears on his skin. He would have given anything to be able to take on your pain, it was a burden he would have willingly carried for you.

So he did what he could: he held you.

Held you as you wept. Held you when the sobs tapered into sniffles. Held you as your tears dried on his skin.

When he was sure you were done crying, he pulled back a bit so that he could see your face, to be able to look in your eyes. They were red and swollen, but you were still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Using his thumb, he carefully wipes under your eyes to remove the few teardrops that still cling to your lower lashes.

He leans in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering on yours as he breathes you in, before climbing out of the bed.

He didn’t want the shadows of the day to drown out your light any more than it already had.

“Come on, kid,” he says holding out both of his hands to help sit you up at the edge of the bed.

Walking to your shared closet, he sheds his sweatpants and pulls on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. He riffles through the dresser in there, the one he had bought for you a few years ago when he wanted you to move in with him, until he finds your softest dress. Stopping by the bathroom on his way back to you to grab a cool, damp washcloth.

You’re sitting there so despondently, your eyes still holding such sadness. He motions for you to lift your arms up, and he pulls his old UVA shirt up and off your body, replacing it with the dress he had fetched for you. Picking up the towel from where he had set it on the nightstand, he runs it softly over your face. Across your forehead, down the line of your nose, taking special care to be gentle around the delicate skin under your eyes.

When he’s done he tosses back onto the nightstand and crouches in front of you so that his eyes are level with yours. Reaching out he cradles your face tenderly between his hands and asks, “You with me?”

He takes the way you turn your head to place a kiss his palm as a yes.

“Good,” he whispers as he presses his lips against your cheek, “Let’s go.”

Threading his fingers though yours, he leads you out of the darkened bedroom and into the golden light of the late afternoon sun that was flooding into your living room through the diamond paneled windows. He makes a stop in the kitchen to grab you a cold water bottle from the fridge, passing it to you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

He helps you with your shoes before sliding his own on, and grabs his wallet and keys. At the Bronco he is the one to help you up and that buckles you in. Rummaging through his glove box to find your sunglasses, he slips the on your face for you before putting on his own. And then with an arm tucked behind your sea, he backs out of the driveway.

There is only a glimmer of an idea in his brain, all he really knew is that he couldn’t stand to see you looking so heartbroken for a second longer.

He is attempting to make a left hand turn when he hears you say, “Bradley, please not this way.”

Unfortunately, he heard your request too late. He was stopped at the light with the traffic lining up next to him and behind him. He turned to ask why you didn’t want to go this way, but you were looking intensively out your window and purposefully away from his direction.

He is confused for a moment and then he is hit with a stroke of brilliance when he sees an elderly man on the set up on the concrete divider surrounded by various buckets of flowers.

He hears you call his name as he jumps out of the car to approach the vendor, he is a man on a mission.

In the vows he spoke when he made you his wife, he promised to be the one person in this world you could count on to make you happy, to be the one person who would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

And that’s what he intended to do.

The hunched over man cheerfully accepted all the bills that he had in his leather wallet in exchange for what was left of his stock. And Bradley was happy that this meant the man could go home for the day and that you would have all the flowers he could get his hands on. It seemed like a more than fair trade to him.

He waved off the older man’s offer to help pile them all in the back of the Bronco, grabbing as many of the cellophane clusters as he could before making his way back to you.

“Bradley!” you laugh almost disbelievingly as he approaches, you’re wearing the first smile he has seen from you since you left the house this morning, and it makes his heart soar. “We’re going to cause a riot here.”

The light is green now and the cars behind him are clearly irritated, but he still another armload to go get, “Let them honk, sweet girl. We’ve got all the time we need.”

Once he has the rest of your flowers loaded in the back, he makes his way to your favorite taco stand. And then your favorite burger place, followed by the place two blocks away with your favorite fries.

And of course, he stops at the milkshake place, ordering a chocolate cherry chip shake for you and a peanut butter one from himself before driving towards the sunset and the beach.

You almost feel like crying again when Bradley parks in the lot at the public beach he has taken you to, but this time you know they’d be happy tears.

“Think we can manage all of this in one go?” he muses jokingly gesturing to the various take out bags that were piled in between your feet.

“I’d bet money on us,” you smile back at him.

“I would too, sweet girl,” he leans in to kiss you before he moves to get out of the Bronco. He rounds the car and opens the door to help you down.

He grabs the Pendleton blanket he keeps under the seat and tucks it under his arm. Then hands you the milkshakes and grabs the rest of the bags before nodding his head towards the beach.

“You know I can carry some of that too, right?” you tease pointing to his overloaded arms.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, but let me take care of this. I’ve got it,” he assures you, although you know he means more than just the bags, “Plus those are our most valuable pieces of cargo, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my milkshake.”

His affectionate grin was the only balm your heart would ever need.

The two of you only make it a few steps towards the beach before he tells you he forgot something as he doubles back to the car.

Wondering what could have been left behind, you watch him as he sets down the takeout bags down to reach into the back of the Bronco pulling out one of the many brightly colored wrapped bouquets resting in the back. He tucks that under his other arm before gathering the rest of the items for your impromptu beach picnic again and jogs back towards you.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

While you’re enjoying the spectacular show the sun is putting on for you as it starts to set as you stroll along the shore with Bradley, you realize that you’re feeling much lighter than before. That the inescapable heaviness that had settled on you over the course of the day no longer felt like it was resting entirely on your shoulders anymore.

And you know without a doubt that it has everything to do with your husband.

The two of you find the perfect spot in the sand, a little pocket of peace away from the noise of the boardwalk, he stands there for a second with an adorably concerned expression when he realizes the issue that he has created for himself by carrying all the items for your picnic in his capable but overloaded arms. And you laugh as you adjust the milkshakes in your hands to help offload the various bags in his hands so that he can lay out the blanket.

He smooths out the sand some before he opens up the blue geometric blanket. Once it is spread out to his liking, he takes the bags from you putting them in the corner, your only responsibility now to safeguard the milkshakes.

He seats himself down on the woven blanket, patting the space in front of him for you to come join him there. And once you are nestled between his propped legs, he pulls you back to rest against his chest.

You are surrounded by all of your favorite things: your husband, the best of San Diego’s drive-thru culinary offerings, the ocean, and the flowers you didn’t know you needed until Bradley got them for you.

And in that moment, you finally feel at peace as you and Bradley dig in to your picnic as you watch the sun inch closer down to the horizon.

You still had the rest of the week to get though. You knew there would be a mountain of work for you to deal with when you went back into the office tomorrow, that man with the flowers would probably be back in his same location tomorrow his buckets full of new bouquets to sell, and you would still be waiting and hoping for your maybe someday soon.

But you could face anything since you had Bradley by your side.

The food might be cold, the fries a little soggy, and the milkshakes were half melted now, but everything about it is perfect.

You let him support you in more ways than one as you settled more fully against him after you were both done eating. It was easier now to talk to him about your day, about the things he knew about and the things he didn’t as you watched the waves roll in and out along the shore as the tide came in.

You felt him tense up when you told him about your disaster of a day at the office. You felt him squeeze you in celebration when you told you about your unofficially official promotion. You felt him as he kissed your cheek when you told him about the equally ruined surprise and lingerie.

The other part you didn’t need to speak the words for, he knew your heart.

You would always have Bradley, and he would always have you.

That’s how it had always been back when you were kids forming the foundation of your friendship, and that’s how it was now as adults navigating the hardships and joys of this life you were building together.

A life where there was always someone there you could count on to pick you back up when you needed them the most.

He kisses your shoulder and rests his chin there as he takes in the view, gently rocking you side to side.

“I love you,” you murmur softly, resting your head against his, “Thank you.”

You know he hears what you are really saying.

Thank you for treating me the best. Thank you for knowing me the best. Thank you for loving me the best.

“It’s going to be ok, sweet girl” he promises against your mouth.

And you believe him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you need a virtual hug my inbox is always open!

This is a one-shot for my 'Like I Can' series.

Here’s a little moodboard for this fic too!

You can check out my other stories here!

Tag List:

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[bteezxyewriter12]

Play with Me

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.6k

Includes- Interrupted masterbation, masturbation, brief blow job, pussy eating, cum eating, voyeurism (Boys listen to them through door), missionary, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

Yoongi POV

“Fuck, yeah”, I moan, sitting in my computer chair

I stare at the picture on my phone, while my hand moves up and down on my cock

The picture is one of the pictures Joanne posted on her Instagram

She’s so fucking hot and beautiful

I’ve wanted her since I first saw her five years ago

She’s BTS’ makeup artist and she became one of our best friends

It doesn’t help that she’s downstairs somewhere

The clothes she’s wearing today, fuck

She doesn’t normally dress that way

I love any kind of clothes she wears

But today…

She’s wearing skin tight skinny jeans and a fucking tight crop top

Her gorgeous stomach is all on display with her tattoos and fucking sexy as hell belly button piercing

Her beautiful cleavage is all out because of the v-neck style of her shirt

Her ass is fucking perfect in those pants

I’d usually be downstairs, just drooling over her but I couldn’t take it

I had a hard on since she walked in two hours ago

I just had to leave and jerk off or I was going to die

It’s not just sex

I really like her a lot too

I mean she’s nice, sweet and hilarious

Fucking gorgeous

She makes me laugh all the time

Her personality is amazing

I fell for her a long time ago

“God fuck Joanne”, I moan as I continue to stroke myself

Fuck, I wish it was her doing it

But I’m too fucking nervous around her

I can’t even talk to her that much before I shut down

I don’t know what I’d do if I had the chance to be with her

No, I take that back

I’d probably fuck it up

“Joanne, baby, I love when you fuck me”, I groan as I get closer to coming

After this, I’m gonna go back downstairs

And probably get hard again

“Joanne, Joanne, Joanne”, I whimper moving my hand faster, my eyes burning though the picture on my phone

“Yoongi?”, I hear a voice by the door.

I stop in horror

No no no

Why didn’t I lock the door?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Yoongi?”, she calls again

I don’t want to turn to her

I want to go back to five minutes ago where my dumbass makes sure the door is locked

Slowly I turn to her, terrified to look at her

I manage to look up at her and I’m surprised that I don’t see disgust in her face

I see curiosity and…

Want?

What?

She comes inside my room and locks the door

Uh what?

What’s she doing?

“Were you jerking off to me?”, she smirks

I swallow hard and nod

Jesus, I can’t even talk to her

Pathetic

“Really? Do you do it all the time?”

I nod

Why does she want to know?

“It’s ok Yoongi”

It is?

“I touch myself thinking about you all the time”

My mouth drops open

What?

WHAT?

“Yyy..Yyyy”, I stutter

Fuck, get it together Yoongi

“Yyyyou do?”

“Yeah Yoongi. You’re so fucking sexy, why wouldn’t I think about you?”

I have no words

I’m completely blown away

I don’t know what to say

She walks closer to my bed

“I’ve been wanting to play with myself since I got here and saw you.”

She’s gonna make my head explode

I can’t believe she’s saying these things to me

“I saw you, so you can watch me if you want. I’ll show you what thinking about you does to me. If you want?”

“Yes”, I answer with no hesitation

Watch her touch herself to me?

Hell yes

She smiles and takes her shirt off

Oh my god

Her body is fucking gorgeous

She has more tattoos on her ribs

She’s wearing a red lacy see through bra and it looks amazing on her body

It’s barely holding in her large breasts

She unbuttons and unzips her jeans

She wiggles out of them saying, “Sorry I look stupid but these things are so damn tight”

Is she kidding?

“You dddd..don’t look stupid”, I manage to get out

She’s wearing a matching pantie lacy thing and I get so much harder

“Fuck Yoongi, your cock is so hard”, she says biting her lip, “It’s so fucking big”

Jesus, she’s trying to kill me

She’s still staring at my cock and she licks her lips

Fuck

I just want to throw her on the bed and fuck her hard

But I’m too scared to

She takes her bra off and I know my eyes bug out seeing her breasts

I just want to touch them

And lick them

And suck on them

Then she pulls her panties off

My eyes widen

Her body is perfect

Just perfect

I can’t handle it

“Do you like my clothes I’m wearing today? They were just for you”

“Ttttt.”

God, I have to fucking stop stuttering

How she makes me a stuttering mess is crazy

“They are?”

She nods

Fuck, she was trying to get me riled up- and it worked

“I thought they’d get you to finally notice me”, she says

Finally?

I’ve noticed her since the second she walked into our make up room at BigHit

She crawls to the middle of my bed and lays back on my pillows

I’m so fucking turned on, it’s insane

When she opens her legs, I almost fall off the chair

I don’t know how someone’s pussy can be beautiful but hers is

And she’s so fucking wet

“Thinking of you makes me this wet. All the time”, she murmurs

I let a moan slip out

“Fuck, even your moans are sexy”, she whimpers

I watch her move her hand to her pussy and start touching herself

God, how can I last watching this?

I’m ready to cum right now

When she moans, I fucking lose it

I have to stop myself from taking her right now

She moves her hand down and puts two of her fingers inside her pussy

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she moans

My mouth drops open

I don’t know what to do

Her fingers moved in and out

She brings her other hand to her clit and starts rubbing it in circles

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.”, she cries, her head going back on the pillows, eyes closed

This is fucking amazing

I’m extremely happy that she does this to thoughts of me all the time

“Fuck me Yoongi. I want your tongue on me. Fuck”

Oh god

I want to put my tongue on her too

I’ve been wanting to eat her out for the longest time

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me with your huge cock. Please Yoongi”, she moans, moving her hands faster

She’s breathing hard, sweating, small moans and noises coming from her mouth

She takes her fingers out of her, still playing with her clit

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”, she yells, back arching off the bed as she cums

I watch her cum run down her and fall on my bed

Jesus, that’s fucking hot

She keeps rubbing herself, yelling my name again, another orgasm taking over her

I can’t take it anymore

I want her

Now

She’s still playing with herself as I stand

I move on the bed, pull her to me by her legs and run my tongue on her pussy

Fuck

She tastes so fucking good

“Yoongi!”, she moans

“God, you taste amazing. I want to eat you out so much. Can I?”, I ask

She nods, “Yes, yes, Yoongi. You can do whatever you want to me”

Yes

She’s saying everything I ever wanted her to say

“But first”, she pushes me back, “You need to be naked too.”

She pulls my shirt off

“Fuck Yoongi, your body is so beautiful. So goddamn sexy.”, she gasps looking at me

I feel myself blush

No one’s ever told me that

I don’t have abs or a body like Jimin or Jungkook

But hearing her say that about me makes me extremely happy

“Take your pants off”

I immediately stand and take them off the rest of the way

Before I can get back on the bed, she's at the edge of the bed and putting her mouth on my cock

“Fuck”, I yell

She puts all of me in her and starts moving her head back and forth

I feel her tongue running all over me as she sucks

Fuck it feels incredible

I’ve never had a blow job like this

It’s never been so…phenomenal

She knows what she’s doing

She moans

She fucking moans while she’s blowing me

She likes it and is making noises like she’s tasting something amazing

That turns me on so much more

That she loves how my cock tastes

I can cum right now but I don’t want to

I want to eat her out, then fuck her so hard

Gently I move her back and off me, pushing her on her back as I kneel on the floor

I pull her legs, bringing her closer to me, putting her legs on my shoulder

I’m so excited to do this I’ve wanted this so much, for so long

My tongue runs up her pussy and I start sucking on her clit

“Yoongi! God!”, she cries

I noticed that she kept playing with her clit the whole time, so I know that’s a place she loves

I let go and lick her clit over and over

Then I move my tongue and lick up her pussy before sucking on her clit again

“Jesus Yoongi, your tongue is better than I ever imagined”

I smirk

I’m happy she’s enjoying it

I’ve never done this before

I usually just fuck the girl and that’s it

But honestly, she tastes so good and I love doing this to her

I glance up and see her watching me suck her clit

I smirk at her without letting her go and she moans

I love hearing her sounds

I use the tip of my tongue and flick her clit over and over

“Yoongi, oh shit, Yoongi”

Her hand slides in my hair

“Pull”, I command

She pulls my hair and it feels so good

I’m so turned on, anything she does to me feels good

From her breathing and moans I know she’s close

Then someone knocks on my door

“Yoongi?”, Hobi calls

I roll my eyes but don’t stop

I want her to cum

I need to taste it

I need to

“Yoongi? What are you doing? Why are you gone so long? And where’s Joanne?”, Namjoon asks

“Go away”, I yell, then lick her again

“Yoongi”, she cries

“What? Why? What are you doing?”, Jimin asks

Jesus are they all outside my room?

“D…Dddon’t…..stop”, she begs

“I won’t”, I answer quickly, then continue

“What are you doing?”, Jungkook yells

“Eating, go away!”, I shout

“Yoongi….Yoongi”, she moans

“Yeah baby, come on. I want it”, I groan

“What are you eating? All the food is downstairs”, Jin asks

“Cum Joanne. I want to taste it.”

“Yoongi fuck yes Yoongi!”, she screams, coming in my mouth

Holy mother of god, she tastes absolutely incredible

“Oh my god he’s eating out Joanne!”, Tae yells

“More Yoongi. More!”, she screams

I nod and continue to use my tongue on her pussy

Good that she wants more because I’m not stopping

“Ssss..she likes it!”, Jimin says

God, they’re so annoying

Can’t they just leave?

I want to yell at them but I don’t want to take my mouth off her

“I love it”, she yells, “Now go away! We’re not cccc…fuck Yoongi yes….coming out for a long time.”

I laugh against her and she shakes a little

“Fuck Yoongi, that feels good”

“They’re not coming out”, Namjoon repeats

She rolls her eyes, “Yoongi and I are going to fuck each other and be very loud. Go away!”

She’s fucking amazing and I laugh again

“Mmmm Yoongi”, she pulls my hair

“Let’s go. I don’t want to hear this.”, Jin says

I hear their footsteps as they walk away

Finally

I close my lips on her clit again

I suck, then let go, then suck again, then let go

“Yes Yoongi. Don’t stop! Don’t!”

I keep doing it, sucking then letting go

After a few more times, she snaps her hips up putting her pussy more in my mouth and screams while she cums

“Mmmmm”, I moan from how good she is

I slide my tongue inside her, licking her

She shakes and cums again, all over my tongue

It turns me on so much

I love how she tastes

She’s actually my new favorite thing to eat

I can do this all day

“Yoongi!”, she cries, “I want your huge cock in me. Give it to me. I want it. I want you”

Fuck, she wants it I’m giving it to her

I love hearing how much she wants me

Just as much as I always wanted her

I really love that she feels the same way

I get up and climb on the bed

She moves back so I have room

I grab her legs and hold them open

I rub her pussy with my cock and tease her, “You want it Jo? You want me inside you?”

“Yes Yoongi. Yes. Don’t you want to be inside me too?”, she asks, looking at me her eyes big and looking innocent - yeah right

“Yeah Jo. I want nothing more than to be inside you.”, I answer

“Then do it Yoongi. I want you so much.”

God I want her so much too

I slide my cock inside her, yelling from how good, how tight she feels

“Oh my God, oh my god!”, I shout

“Yoongi, ahhh, Yoongi”, she yells

“Jesus Jo. You’re so fucking tight and wet. You feel amazing!”, I praise her

She just makes moaning noises I love

I move back and thrust back in

“Fuck!”, I yell

I can cum right now, this second

I don’t know how I’m going to fuck her for long

It just feels so…..goddamn fantastic

No other girl I’ve been with felt like she does

No other girl has been so fucking tight

I love being in her pussy

I move again, faster, pounding into her, forcing myself not to cum yet

Making her scream and yell

“Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi. I love your cock. I love you fucking me”

I groan and keep moving

I can’t stop

I don’t want to

“Shit baby, your pussy was made for me”, I cry as I slam into her again and again

“It’s all yours Yoongi. Whenever you want. It’s yours”, she shouts

Yes, yes, yes

I want it

I want her to be mine, want to be the only one she fucks

I want her to be the only one who fucks me, want to be hers too

“My cock is yours Jo. My tongue is yours. Anytime you want them, you can have them. They’re only for you. No one else”, I blurt out

“Yoongi, god”

I thrust inside her and when I hit her spot, she screams so loudly

I love hearing her

It gets me off

“Harder Yoongi. Fuck me harder”, she yells

I nod and slam harder into her making sure I hit that place again

Another scream

Another slam makes her let out another scream

I thrust again and she screams my name, her pussy clamping on my cock, body shaking as she cums

Holy shit, the pleasure from her coming is unbelievable

The way she’s pulling on me is insane

I want to cum but I want to make her cum more

I love the way it feels

Every thrust keeps hitting her in that spot and within a few seconds she cums again

And it feels like heaven

More slamming causes another orgasm

And another and another

We’re both sweating so much but I don’t care

I’m so lost in her and I don’t want it to end

I pound in again and her back comes off the bed causing her to thrust her hips at the same time as me

She takes all of me so deep inside, I yell loudly

“YOONGI!”, she screams, releasing all over me and I can’t fucking take it anymore

Ecstacy floods my body and I cum so hard, deep inside her

I never came this hard before and it’s never felt so fucking incredible

“Yoongi, Yoongi”, she whispers my name over and over

I love hearing my name coming from her mouth

I want her to hold me just as much as I want to hold her

Just pull her closer to me and stay with her

I lay down next to her and she automatically turns to me, snuggling into me

And my arms automatically go around her and hold her close

I’m trying to breathe normally as thoughts race through my mind

I don’t want her to leave

I don’t want things to go back the way they were

I want her

I want her to smile her gorgeous smile at me, laugh when I say something funny, hug and kiss me all the time, tell me she loves me, hold her hand, just be with me

Fuck

Realization hits me right in my chest

I love her

I always said I didn'twant to love someone, it’d hurt too much when they eventually leave because of my career

I don’t know how or when, but I fell in love with her

Damn it

I know that she thinks I’m hot and sexy and that she wants sex from me

I don’t think she likes me like that at all

Definitely not love

I don’t know what to do

I want her so much, but I’m so scared to say anything

She puts one arm around my body, “Yoongi, I love being with you”, she sighs, “Even just laying here with you is amazing. Don’t let go”

I tighten my grip on her while my mind is screaming at me

’Tell her’

’Don’t let her get away from you’

’She wants you like you want her’

’Ask her to be yours’

’NOW’

“Uh Joanne, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah Yoongi.”, she answers

“Do you uh, wanna, uh….”, I trail off

“Yes”

My eyes shoot down to her and she’s looking up at me, smiling

God her smile is going to kill me one day

“Whatever it is, yes.”

“Uhh…”

She giggles and it’s the cutest thing in the world

“Just ask Yoongi”, she reaches up and strokes the side of my face

I close my eyes against her touch

I love the feeling

Force my eyes open, I ask, “Joanne, do you want to be with me? Like be my girlfriend?”

I’m so scared of her answer

“Yes Yoongi. A million times yes. I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been waiting for you for years.”, she responds

Years?

She’s wanted me for years too?

“Really?”, I ask

“Yeah Yoongi. I fell for you so long ago. You had such a bad boy image when I first met you and honestly in the beginning I just wanted to fuck you. My type of guy is more like Hobi. Hilarious, outgoing, silly.”

Hobi?

She liked Hobi?

She wants someone like Hobi?

“You weren’t like that but there was something about you. And after getting to know you, you’re everything Hobi is and more. You’re everything I could ever want”

I smile at that

“I’ve been waiting for you to notice me. I figured you would never because of all the beautiful idols you’re around all the time. Why would you want me, when you could have them?”

“I don’t want them”, I assure her, “I want you. I only ever wanted you from the first day I saw you. Yeah I just wanted sex first like you, but once I got to know you, I wanted you. And I still do.”

“Good because I want you too.”, she smiles

I smile back at her

“I love your smile Yoongi. It’s one of my favorite things about you. It’s so beautiful.”

My smile is nothing compared to hers

“Joanne…I love you. I love you so much you have no idea. I’m crazy in love with you. It’s always been you”, I blurt

Shit shit shit

I sound like such a pathetic idiot

“I love you too Yoongi. So much. I’m so in love with you, it’s ridiculous. You’re all that’s on my mind, all the time. It’s always been you too Yoongi. Always.”, she admits

I feel my face break into a huge smile as I lean to her lips and kiss her for the first time

Holy fuck

Fucking stars burst in my vision from her kiss

I absolutely love it

She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me back

When the kiss ends, she asks shyly, “Can we take a little nap? Sleeping in your arms has been one of the things I want to do the most with you.”

“I’d want nothing more than to take a nap with you Jo. It’s something I’ve wanted to do too, for a long time.”

She kisses me again and snuggles into me more

“I love you Yoongi”, she says

“I love you Joanne.”

I hold her close to me, her head on my chest, arms around her

I run my fingers through her soft hair, listening to her breath as she falls asleep

“I love you”, I whisper to her

Even though she’s sleeping, her arms squeeze me closer

I kiss her head, then close my eyes and fall asleep

[itsdrawingmen]

I saw a dunmeshi art where they lined up the characters in their underwear, and got brainworms from it. I'm not really good at painted studies, it turns out, or maybe it just didn't work right now, but I like how the drawing came out. It was an excercise in different bodies, and I think they’re all neat.

Some headcanons and musings:

Zen has boobs, tits even, but that's canon, and all the time I was drawing him I was thinking about that selfie from his album where he's wearing a half-buttoned white shirt and his cleavage is visible. I am looking at him respectfully (not really, I am looking at him like this:

He's shaved everywhere, and he wears very plain, neutral-coloured underwear. His normal state is being pretty meaty, but he doesn’t like himself that way. He’s often dried out for his roles.

Yoosung is narrow-chested, thin, covered in moles, and comparatively kinda hairy — not by my European standards, but compared to the others here. He doesn't care about shaving, for himself or anyone else. He often wears funky boxers, and has sort of got a collection. Even when it's not funky-printed, his underwear is usually bright-coloured. He's cringe, but he's free. Also, not pictured, but he’s often covered in hickeys, normally from the chest up. Not gonna say who leaves them, but anyone who knows me even a little can take a wild guess 👀

Jaehee is wide in the hips and big-breasted. Her underwear is normally mismatched, because she doesn't care. The only thing she cares about is that it doesn't show through her clothes. In the canon timeline, she usually wears those thick stiff heavily padded bras that smooth everything out, and then over the course of the postcanon she gradually switches to softer cups. She's sedentary, often stressed, and doesn't eat well, so she's not really thin. She has acne on her face, neck, back, chest, and shoulders. She shaves because she’s too used to it, but she gradually gets more relaxed about it.

Next up is Joori Nam, the MC. She's a big, tall young woman, quite heavy and strong. She likes to show off her edgy and feisty personality in clothes and underwear, and she's also pretty expressive and energetic in gestures. She's depressed and a self-harmer. She barely shaves, only where is absolutely necessary to look ‘presentable’ for work. Otherwise, she can’t be assed.

The Chois are emaciated and scarred. They've both got some mild pectus excavatum. The Mother Choi used to stub cigarettes on them, and Saeran has got it worse.

Saeyoung is slightly more muscular and slightly less scarred. He has knobby square fingers, and nails bitten to almost nothing. He's also an active self-harmer. He's missing several toenails. All of his underwear is a little baggy on him.

Saeran is even thinner and less muscular. He has a lot of piercings, and his tattoo is blacked out into a full sleeve. He has barely any body hair at all. He is pretty much covered in cigarette burn scars, as well as scars from being whipped with cables, and several deep and crooked scars from gashes made with glass bottles.

Jumin, without his PR team, can't pose for shit. He is good at doing what they tell him, and he looks fine when photographed candidly, but as soon as he starts posing on his own, he just looks awkward and stiff. He has a weird case of CEO-body, where he's fit, but also weirdly soft in unexpected places (namely, his chest and arms). He shaves because it's 'hygienic'. He also wears briefs. Sorry, to me he looks like someone who wears briefs.

Jihyun is normally pretty toned, but after the whole ordeal with Rika and having to cover for her he has gained some weight and gotten soft. He has a long torso and wider hips and a bit of a belly. He hunches his back a lot, and picks at the skin of his fingers.

Rika is slender and dancerly, and very traditionally feminine. She’s small and graceful, not muscular, but soft, with smooth porcelain skin. She wears lingerie, always matching, always beautiful, and pretty much only owns thongs and tanga. Somehow, despite always looking up at people, she can easily make you feel like she’s looking down at you.

[milkywaydrabbles]

A/N: I think I blacked out writing this LMFAO. This is the longest part and it wasn't supposed to be 2k words but apparently I have a thing going on. Maybe one more HC post after this post-fucking and how reader and gojo are together and the dynamic change but this was the big hurrah. Hope y'all enjoy MWAUH

Fratboy! Gojo part one | part two | part three

Satoru kissed you like a starving man, hoping for salvation in the form of your lips. His tongue explored your mouth, hands roaming your back, your hips, your waist. It was overwhelming. You pulled back a few times just enough to catch your breath before he was on you again. You could barely keep up, letting him overwhelm your senses and giving yourself up to him. “Sa-satoru hold on.” He gasped out, pushing at his chest. He shook his head, pushing you backwards until the back of your knees hit your bed. “Need you so bad, pretty. Don’t wanna waste time.” His lips latched onto the pulse point of your neck, heart beating so fast it felt like it could burst from your chest. You whimpered, falling back onto your bed with Gojo following, hands gripping at your waist. Everything was moving too fast, you couldn’t focus, it was too much. Firmly you pressed on his chest again, trying to put some space between you. He furrowed his brows, concern evident in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Your breath shuddered, “I just...give me a minute.” You mumbled, looking away from his piercing gaze. His face softened. “I’m sorry, pretty girl...This just--it didn’t feel real, like I wouldn’t have this opportunity again...I don’t wanna push you, I promise. I just want you.” 

Hearing Satoru, your bully from the semester, saying such sweet words and looking like he was begging for his life almost broke your heart. He had a lot of making up to do but...maybe, just maybe, you’d give him a chance. “Okay...” You whispered, “okay, Satoru. I’m ready.” Gojo dipped down, slower, nipping at your lower lip and kissing you with purpose. “Sorry, beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, slowly tracing kisses down your neck and to your shoulder. You didn’t respond, instead running a hand through his soft white tufts of hair. Your eyes fluttered close as he explored you, hands tracing your stomach, and cupping your tits. A knee pressed itself at the apex of your thighs and you gasped, hips stuttering. “Can’t believe I have you under me.” He whispered, nipping and suckling and licking any skin he can get his mouth on. You steadied yourself before speaking, “don’t make me regret it, Gojo.” He clicked his tongue, a sharp bite down on your neck before soothing his tongue over it. You yelped. “Satoru, baby. Enough with the family name. I only wanna hear Satoru coming from you.” He rubbed his knee at your clothed cunt, feeling the heat coming from between your legs. He was so hard just thinking of you, having you so pliable underneath him. Gojo could barely think himself. So when you, on your own accord, pushed him off enough to slip your shirt over yourself and throw it to the foot of the bed his brain completely short circuited. You hadn’t been wearing a bra. Made sense, really, if you were just in your room but still. Gojo stared, eyes glued on your chest like you just showed him the answer to life. You shifted, hands going to cover yourself in embarrassment before he pounced. “Nu uh, pretty girl. Fuck, look at you. You’ve been hiding this from me?” He groaned, a hand squeezing and pinching one nipple but his mouth worked on the other. You moaned above him, leaning back down and head thrown into your pillow. Gojo couldn’t help but moan himself, the taste of you on his tongue was driving him wild, his knee moving to spread your leg more. “Satoru.” You gasped, nails digging into his shoulder blades. 

He lost his fucking mind. “Fuck, baby.” his hands went to rip off your pants, uncaring on how desperate he looked. He was desperate. Licks and kisses trailed down your chest, stomach, hips. Down, down, down, until he finally licked a stripe on your pantie clad pussy. You cried out, hips bucking into his face. Gojo looked like he was in ecstasy, burrowing his nose into you and breathing in deep. His eyes practically rolled to the back of his head when he moaned. “You smell so fucking good.” He groaned. You tried to close your legs around his head, but he wouldn’t let you. “Don’t be fucking embarrassing, Satoru.” You hid behind your hands. He’d let you, for now. “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Wanna taste you.” Gojo pulled back your underwear enough to tongue your lips, losing control the moment he got a taste of you. He pressed himself more into your cunt, tongue swirling deep in you as he moaned. He wanted to lick and suck and slurp every drop you had to give him. You gushed around his tongue, crying out as he ate you like a madman. Satoru ripped your underwear to give himself more space to taste you and use his fingers. Neither of you even noticed the torn cloth. He lifted your legs on his shoulders and pressed infinitely closer, two fingers dipping into your sopping wet pussy as he lapped up your juices, and latching onto your clit.

“A-ah, Satoru! Fuck!” you humped his face, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. His long fingers curled up, starting to quicken his pace and finger fuck you relentlessly. He knew he’d found what he was looking for when your body rose and you squealed, hands tangling into his hair. You babbled nonsense, begging him for release. “Come on pretty girl, cum on my fingers, I want it.” He looked up at you between his lashes, nosing your swollen nub as you rose higher and higher to your climax. “Look at me, baby.” He licked you again, pressing kisses to your clit as you looked down at him. You were a fucking sight for sore eyes. Your eyes were glassy, lips swollen and red from you biting them so hard. Cheeks flush, and your mouth shaping a perfect ‘o’ with how good he was making you feel. Gojo could cum in his pants with your face alone. It was burned into his memory, and he knew no one would ever be good enough. Not after you. He was so pussywhipped there was no way in hell he’d ever let you go after this.

A few more pumps of his fingers into your swollen cunt had you releasing your juices over him, your hole clenched and spasmed around him, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. He slowed down when you deemed it too much, crawling back up your body with kisses along the way. The two fingers that were deep in your pussy were pressed against your lips, and you immediately opened your mouth letting him push your taste onto your tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed, making a scene of sucking on his digits for good measure. Gojo couldn’t breathe, the discomfort of his pants becoming too much. “Gotta feel you baby, need to be inside you.” He kissed you again, but you surprised him by pushing him off and crawling on top of him. He blinked, shocked. “Wanna ride you, ‘Toru.” Gojo could only hear white noise. There was no way this was real, this must have been a dream. “Baby...you sure?” He was still in shock as you moved to pull his shirt up, look still hazy. He helped, removing his clothes and discarding them in the corner of your room. Finally, finally you were able to get a good look at him and nothing could prepare you for the cock you came face to face with. He was so pretty, mushroom tip all read and leaking with anticipation. He was long, and curved, and you honestly wondered how he’d fit. 

“Baby, it’s okay, we can take it slow.” He reassured, but you were damned if you weren’t going to have him inside of you. You dipped down and gave his tip some experimental kisses, Gojo hissing as you did so. Kisses turned into sucks, and before he knew it you were slurping down his cock with enthusiasm. “Fuck! B-baby slow down, ‘m’not gonna last if you keep it up.” He babbled, holding your head steady as best he could. He wanted more than anything to fuck up into your mouth with how good it felt, but he wanted to feel your pussy tighten around his cock. You looked at him between your lashes, slowing your pace. God, you were going to be the death of him. He gathered all your hair into his large hand and let you lazily suck on his cock, going as deep as you could before coming up for air, using your free hand to stroke whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth. “Just like that, baby, fuuuck. S’fucking good.” The deep timbre of his voice shot straight to your cunt, hole clenching around nothing. “Can’t wait anymore, need you.” Gojo pulled you off him and brought you up to his face, kissing you deeply once more. You lined yourself up with his cock, teasing his tip with your wet folds. He wanted to push you down and take you, but he’d let you take the lead. Just this once. Slowly, you pushed yourself onto his length with ease, you were so slippery with your last orgasm and his spit. You both gasped, and you immediately tightened around him it felt so good. “Satoru, fuck.” You whimpered, bracing yourself on his chest as you rose up, to the tip, and sat back down on his cock. He moaned, head tipping back and his hands gripping onto your hips so hard they’d leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so fucking tight and hot, pretty girl. Fucking me so good.” He praised you as you rode him, fingernails digging into the skin of his chest. You did your best to keep your pace, crying and whimpering above him. “Good, ‘Toru, so good.” You babbled, tears streaming down your face. You were cockdrunk, couldn’t think of anything except Satoru and how good he was making you feel. Your hips stuttered, straining to keep it up. 

“Aw,” he cooed, “you cryin’?” You could practically hear the smirk coming from him. “Does my pretty baby want some help?” You sniffled and nodded, being shifted immediately and feeling him thrust into you. Gojo planted his feet on the mattress and shoved you down onto him. Sweat dripped down his brow as he reached closer to his own high. “Touch yourself f’me baby, cum on my cock.” He strained to speak, getting lost in the wet heat of your cunt. Slaps bounced around the room, the heat and smell of sex filling the air around you. If you were to stop crying and moaning all you would hear is the pap, pap, pap of your soaked cunt being stuffed full. A shaky hand found your clit, rubbing at yourself as Gojo filled you up. “Satoru, g’nna cum, ‘m gonna-aah, fuck! Fuckfuckfuck” You screamed, trembling on top of him as you came on top of him. Your juicy cunt soaked him, dripping down his length and balls. He didn’t stop his pumping, fucking up into you harder now focused on himself. You pulsed around him, enough to bring him closer to the edge. “F-fuu-where do you want it baby? Tell me where.” He pleaded, Gojo wasn’t going to last long. “Inside me, Satoru, please wan’it.” You fucked back onto him, lost to the pleasure of overstimulation he was giving you. It was too much for him. He groaned, pulling you down hard on him and stilling inside of you. Globs of cum pushing deep into your pussy, Gojo could swear he saw stars. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that much in his life. 

All that was heard were pants of the both of you trying to catch your breath. And now you felt awkward. You cleared your throat, moving to get off him not catching his eye. “Where do you think you’re going?” He pulled you down closer to him, kissing at your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids, everywhere. “This wasn’t a mistake.” No question, a declaration. “You think you’re getting rid of me after that?” He snorted, planting one last kiss on your now giggling face. “Baby, you’re stuck with me.”

[mykneeshurt]

I love your writings! Can I request the COD boys with a s/o who is covered in tattoos from the top of their neck to their ankles. Preferably where they usually where clothes that cover them fully, then for whatever reason they are wearing something like a tank top and shorts and they see their tattoos for the first time <3 thanks

I don’t see a lot of fics where the person is heavily tattooed, if any tattoos at all

My OC in Don’t fear the Reaper is heavily tattooed 😏 I’m poor so can’t afford any more tattoos at the moment, so im living vicariously through her. If you wanted Rudy and Alejandro let me know and I can add them in! Female reader!

Price

You and Price had been seeing each other secretly for a few months, ever the gentleman he kept the pace slow. Allowing yourselves to get to know each other before any hanky panky.

You usually wore a long sleeved layer with long trousers and your boots around base. Never really showing any skin, which Price didn’t mind, it was essentially a tease. Leaving your body and skin to his imagination.

That was until one night when you were in the gym, you couldn’t sleep so decided to release some endorphins instead. You were on the resistance bike, sweat dripped from your brow onto the floor. Music was blasting from your headphones, you were in your own world.

Price had just finished his paperwork which had kept him up past midnight. As he trudged to his room he walked past the gym and noticed the light on. As he peered around the door he saw you figure on the bike.

He couldn’t quite believe his eyes. There you were, sat in all your sweaty glory. You wore shorts and a sports bra revealing a multitude of tattoos all over your body. From your neck to your ankles. An array of art decorated every part of skin he could see. Black and grey, colour, black out ink, all of it. He wanted to trace his fingers all over your body to feel how the ink felt on your skin, to feel the art beneath his finger tips.

Feeling someone watching you, you spun around to see your Captain staring at you. Your gaze softened and beckoned him to come to you.

Soap 🧼

It was a rare sunny day outside so you decided to swap your usual long sleeved attire to a tank top. The jeeps needed attending to so you decided to take advantage of the hot weather.

You were elbow deep in an engine trying to find out why the engine light kept coming on, when you heard a whistle behind you. Turning round to give one of the troops a piece of your mind your eyes met Johnny stood open mouthed. ‘Yes?’ You asked somewhat confused.

‘Just never seen your tats before, steamin Jesus … they’re incredible.’ He stood and took in your neo traditional tattoos, a mixture of Japanese and Art deco ink littered over your skin. ‘They’re just tattoos Johnny. Christ’ you laughed.

‘Yeah but I ain’t ever seen you this … uncovered. Fuckin incredible.’ You felt a blush creep up on your skin as you rubbed your arms.

Johnny came over and started to map out each of your tattoos, telling you which ones were his favourites. You pointed out which one was your first and which one was your most recent. Which one had a story, which one didn’t, he took in every word as he stroked your skin.

Ghost 💀

You were in the changing rooms after a sparring session and you were getting ready to get in the shower. As you pulled your top of you suddenly felt a set of eyes bore into you. Looking up you saw Ghost, his eyes raked up and down your body. ‘Fuckin hell love, didn’t realise you had tatts.’

You smirked showing off your body, ‘what these?’ You winked at him. Your body was covered in a mixture of realistic and black work geometric tattoos. Looking at his half forearm sleeve you smirked ‘puts yours to shame don’t it.’ He let out a breathy chuckle ‘cheeky minx.’

You spun around so he could have a look at the tattoos on your back, realistic skulls, flowers, portraits all adorned you. He pulled you in close, ‘I suggest you get in the shower, get cleaned up and come to my room. I wanna take a closer look at some of these’ he winked.

Gaz 🇬🇧

You were sat in the canteen with Gaz one morning when a load of new recruits came barging in. As they pushed their way past your table one spilt their drink all over you. ‘Fuck sake!’ You yelled throwing your hands in the air. Gaz grabbed some napkins for you as you removed your top, luckily it hadn’t gone through to your vest.

As Gaz turned to give you the napkins he was met with your tattooed body. He felt his breath hitch in his throat, he didn’t think he could fancy you anymore than he did. ‘Where you been hiding them?!’ He gestured to your body ‘we’ve been seeing each other a month and you kept these beauties to yourself!’

Giggling you took the napkins from him ‘you never asked!’ You were covered in traditional old school tattoos, a death moth covered your chest which was surrounded by roses and hearts. He couldn’t take his eyes off his new found treasure in front of him.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have just come across your svech fics. They are sooooo good!!!! You have such a great talent with writing! if you’re taking any requests atm might I suggest a wedding night/honeymoon fic, or a fic where reader surprises andrei with a new lingerie set after a good game 👀👀 if you’re not taking requests, just know your work is appreciated!

lol i sat on this one for a hot minute, but let’s talk about andrei and lingerie 👀 i’m kind of reversing the prompt and it’s andrei surprising reader with lingerie

the man LOVES when you wear the fancy stuff - lace, silk, tulle, he doesn’t care. he loves it all

he regularly tears your panties to shreds when he’s feeling particularly horny, so he’s constantly buying you new one to replace the ripped ones

he loves the lacy black thongs and the bright red silk, but the white lace cheeky cut panties really get him going - anything in canes’ colors makes him unbelievably hard and desperate for you

will surprise you with lingerie on a random tuesday “just because”

for his birthday one year, you did a full on fashion show/striptease for him, grinding yourself over his lap and reprimanding him when he tried to touch you

every once in a while, he’ll buy something complicated with lots of straps just to see how long it takes him to get it off of you

loves to fuck you while you’re wearing crotchless panties and the feel of the smooth, cool silk against his overheated skin

also really loves the slightly rough feel of lace on his skin

will very regularly suck at your nipples through the lace cups of your bras

he knows he’s in for a good time when you come to bed in a see-through teddy and likes to just look at you and take in the sight of you wearing lingerie when it looks like you’re wearing nothing

on more than one occasion, he’s fucked you in the morning before leaving for the arena or a flight and kept your panties, tucking them in his pocket before he leaves

one time on the road he sent you a video of himself jacking off with your lace thong fisted in his hand against his cock - that video played on repeat while you got yourself off too

you always make sure to be wearing something extra special after he’s had a really good game - one game he netted a hat trick and two assists and you greeted him at the front door completely naked save for a pair of heels “fuck i need to do that every game,” were his last coherent words before he fucked you on every horizontal and several vertical surfaces in the house

andrei honestly thinks you look amazing in anything and everything and loves it when you’re in sweats and an oversized shirt on the couch, but the second he finds out you’ve got on some sort of fancy lingerie, he can’t keep his hands off of you

[andydrysdalerogers]

Troublemaker ~ Six ~ Becoming Uncle Jeremy

He is one of the best goaltenders in the league. He's also hated by his teammates. He didn't mean to be a troublemaker but why not lean into it? There wasn't anyone to stop him.

Until he met her...

A Jeremy Swayman AU x OFC Stella Williams

Story Warnings: excessive drinking, SMUT!, an asshole Jeremy, angst

A/N: Hello and welcome to a spin-off "Cross-Checked" so plenty of characters from that story are crossing over here! If you want a more detailed story of how we ended up here, read the first store HERE Also! The taglist is open. If you want to be added or removed, please let me know!

A/N 2: This chapter coincides with Chapter 20 of Cross Checked! You can read that HERE

Previous: A Proposition

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Life is going great.  

Stella and I have been having a lot of fun. The sex, god the sex is another level phenomenal.  Not to mention, she, as a person, is great. I haven’t felt like this before. And I don’t hate it.  

“How was practice?” Stella asks as she unbuttons my shirt. I’m working her top off, kissing her skin every chance I get.  

“It was good.  That stretch you showed me is working great. Oh fuck,” as she started to kiss my chest. She nibbles and sucks, making me moan, rolling my head back. 

“You like?” She gives me a mischievous smile and fuck does it make me feral. I bend enough to grasp her thighs and pick her up, wind her legs around my waist and carry her into my bedroom. She squeals and giggles but then cups my face to kiss me hard. I spin and hold her against the wall. 

“Are you being bad, sweetheart?” I press my groin into her pussy. I know she can feel it based on the way she moaned.  

“Maybe?” She gives me a shy grin. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” 

“Oh sweetheart, you are playing with fire.” I kiss her hard and then throw her onto my bed. “You want to be bad, then I’ll have to punish you.” I unbutton her jeans and pull them straight off. And holy fuck, she is wearing black lace. Black lace bra, displaying her perfect tits and hi cut black lace panties. I think I may be drooling.  

Get it together Swayman.  I undo my jeans and stalk towards her. I can see her desire but also a hint of fear of what I will do to her. “Nervous, baby?” 

“A little,” she admits. She up on her elbows and I leaned down, moving a strand of her hair.  

“You tell me to stop, baby, and I will, ok?” I looked into her eyes. “I just want to make you feel good.”  

“I trust you,” she says, and I smile. I start to kiss from her ankle up, feeling her squirm, listening to her gasps at the sensations.  

“I’ve been dreaming of you, this pussy, fuck baby, was so hard when I saw you stretching out.” I bypass her panties and move to her torso. Her back arches when I bite under her breast. It lets me get my hand under and snap her bra off. “Can’t wait to get a taste.”  

“Can I taste you?” she asks, rather timidly.  

I look at her, surprised. She looks nervous, scared. “If you aren’t comfortable Stel...” 

“No I am, I just, she bites the corner of her lip, “you’re big and I don’t know if I could take much.”  

I chuckle and shake my head. “However much you want Stel.” She gets up and stands in front of me. “God, you’re beautiful.”  She reached down and pushed my jeans and boxers in one go.  She pushes me to sit, and she kneels before me. She doesn’t say a word, but I lean back on my elbows. “Whatever you want, baby,” I reassure her.  

She takes my cock in her hand and gives it a soft stroke. I closed my eyes at the sensation and let out a moan. She squeezes harder and I roll my head back. “Uh-uh, eyes on me, goalie.” I snap my head back to meet her eyes and I watch as she licks just the tip.  

“Oh, fuck,” I mumble. She giggles before she sucks the tip. My moan is louder. I put my hand on the back of her head, but I don’t force her.  Not yet at least.  She takes more and more of my cock, and I think I have died. She is sucking my soul out of my body. “Fuck, Stella, baby, slow down.”  

I think she just speeds up more because I can feel the tension at the base of my spine. I wrap my fist with her hair and pull her off.  “If you keep sucking me off like that, the evening ends sweetheart.”  

“Aww, but you like it”, she says in a bratty tone while still stroking my cock.  

Fuck it, I know I have a good refraction period, so I tilt her head back. “You don’t want to stop?” She shakes her head. “Then take me all the way, Stella. “I push her head back on my cock and she gags for a second. I pull back slightly, “get me off sweetheart.”  

She double times, swallowing around me, squeezing my dick in her throat. I’m starting to lose it. “Stel... fuck... Baby... I’m going to cum.”  

Stella is evil.  She starts to pump my shaft as she takes me in her mouth and then she sucks hard, and I’m gone. The rush has my ears roaring, and I empty myself down her throat.  She swallows everything and licks me clean. When she leans back, she licks the corners of her mouth. “Delicious.”  

That sets me off.  I pick her up and wrapper her around me again. I don’t have time for any more foreplay. I pull her panties to the side and let my still half hard cock rub through her pussy. “Aren’t you aroused, baby. So wet.” 

This gets her mewling. “Jeremy, please.”  

I’m not ready but I know how I can be. I spin again and drop her on the bed. “Turn over, hands and knees, gorgeous.”  She is slow to get into position so I help and get her ass in the air. I pull off her panties and moan as I see her pussy is slick and warm. I take a taste and she moans from the sensation.  Oh yeah, this is going to get me up. I tease her clit and then her entrance.  

“Please,” she begs. “I can’t...” 

I let her go and tease her now with my now fully hard cock. “You are perfection, sweetheart,” I tell her before sinking my entire length in her. Her back arch as she took me. “Christ, Stella, fucking tight and so goddamn warm.” I take it easy the first few strokes into her, making sure she is adjusted before I slowly drag my cock out of her. She gasps as she feels every inch of my along her walls.  

“Jer, fuck, what are you...ahh!” She screams as I slam into her and start to fuck her like I hate her. I give her everything. Stella is sobbing as I rail her.  

One cry has me stopping, fuck did I hurt her. “Stel?” 

“No! Don’t stop!” she cries and I restart my movements. But I need to kiss her. I lift her on her toros and throw one arm around her waist and the other to tilt her head to me. I kiss her hard as I continue to move inside her. “Jer, I’m gonna...”  

“Let go, gorgeous, take me with you,” I growl out.  I can feel that I am about to reach my end when the final thrust into her sets her off. Her pussy is squeezing me so tight and I cum so hard I feel like I black out for a moment. I let us fall but, on our sides, so I don’t have to leave her just yet. I kiss her neck and shoulders as she takes her time to come back. “So beautiful,” I whisper.  

“I’m calling the police,” she replies. She turns her head to look at me. “I’m positive that this is attempted murder.” I bark out a loud laugh at my crazy girl.  

Death by orgasm, what a way to go.  

It’s the middle of the second period against Tampa and I’m nursing a shutout. The whole team has been on their game, especially Andy.  He has a deep vendetta against one of their forwards, Craig Bailey. While Andy has found the love of his life in Leia, he had previously been engaged to another woman, Fiona. Together for three years, Andy assumed it was for forever.  Until he found Fiona bouncing on Craig’s dick.  

Needless to say, that shit show ended quickly.  Both relationships were terminated on the spot and Andy moved into the house he bought for Fiona and Leia moved in soon after when her own relationship blew up. I should have taken that as a sign but here we are.  Anyway, Bailey got traded to Tampa, much to Andy’s joy and Fiona dumped Bailey because she didn’t want to leave Boston. She ended up in New York and thank god for that because she is the worst kind of person.  

But Craig, well, we would have to see him twice a season when we play Tampa.  This is our second game against them and luckily, it is at home.  The first time we saw them, Andy was able to give a beautiful check that got Craig sent to the locker room and no penalty. Beauty.  But tonight, I think Bailey is out for blood.  And he chose me. 

I’m watching the play develop with Bailey’s line out on the ice. They try to deke to my right but shot left. Losers, I saw that coming a mile away.  I snatch the puck midair and play stops.  Everyone skates around the net as the referee moves to reset. Bailey skates by. “I heard you were dating Leia.”  

“No, I’m not.  She’s with Andy now.” Fucker is trying to get under my skin, I know it.  

“Saw that coming,” he scoffed.  “What about her friend? Is she still single? I would have tapped that if I could have while I was here.”  He looks at me. “What was her name again?  Stella, I think. Is she single?” 

He couldn’t have known what the reaction was going to be.  Our relationship is ours alone, but it doesn’t stop me from seeing red as he continues working his mouth. 

“Yeah, she has a banging body.  I am here for the night so maybe I’ll look her up.”  He skates away for the faceoff, and it is taking everything in me to focus on the game.  I huff and reset my stance.  

The puck drops and their center passes the puck to Craig who tried to shoot but I poke check it away. The next shot is in the netting, and I stand to get stretched just a bit.  Craig skates back. “Are you going to tell me if Stella is single?” 

“No,” I say in a growl. “Leave our team alone. Besides, I’m pretty sure that you of all people are not welcome here anymore after what you did to my captain. Fuck off.” I shoved him away from me.   

Craig’s face turns another shade of red and moves back to his position.  They drop the puck and Tampa sets up their play.  They get it to Craig, their best shooter, and I think he’s going to let it fly but instead I see him skating in.   He flies around the defense and finds a gap to me. Fuck, this is going to suck but I crouch into position.  But instead of letting the puck go, he keeps moving.  

Into me.  

I’m thrown back from the force of his body into mine and I fall back uncontrollably. And the back of my helmet hits the ice, and everything goes black.  

Why does everything look so bright? 

Why is my head pounding? 

What was I doing? 

I blink and I can see the head trainer, Phil and Stella looking down at me. “Jeremy, can you hear me?” Phil asks. 

“Yeah, but everything hurts,” I mutter. I move to stand but the world spin,  

“Whoa big guy,” Stella says, steadying me. “Jeremy, you have a concussion, so you need to move slow or you’re going to throw up on the ice.”  

  “What happened?” Phil and Stella help me to a sitting position as I hear clapping from the crowd.  

“We’ll explain later.” Stella waived over a couple of my teammates. Andy and Brad moved to help me to my feet and pushed me towards the gate. Linus pats me on the back as he moves to take my spot in the net. I make it to the bench and Stella and Phil guide me to the locker room. I sit as Stella looks into my eyes.  

My eyes move to the monitor to check on the game. A pair of fingers snap twice in my face. “Hey, eyes on me, goalie.” She smiles at me, cheeks flushing a soft pink, because she can remember when she said that to me as she blew me. But I’m having a hard time moving my mouth. “Jeremy, how are you feeling?” 

“Well,” I say slowly, “there are two of you.”  

“Shit,” she mutters. “Okay, big guy, let’s get you out of the pads and to the hospital.”  

I want to joke about the fact that she’s stripping me, but there are really two of her right now and I’m not sure who I need to direct my questions to. Phil and Stella get me out of the pads as the paramedics come in with a wheelchair. I’m left in my compression clothes which is not at all embarrassing since you know I started to sport a semi when I could breathe in Stella as she examined me.  

“Wait!” she yells out.  She has a pair of Bruins sweats I keep in my dry locker. She helps me put the sweats on as Phil talks to the paramedics. “I’ll be by to see you soon, ok?” She whispers to me. “You look a little green.” 

“I’m a little nervous,” I tell her. What if this is worse than she thinks? Suddenly, I’m panicking. I take a shallow breath. 

“Hey, it's gonna be ok. I promise,” she tells me. She looks and sees everyone has their backs to us. She kisses me softly. “I’ll see you soon.”  

A Grade One concussion later and Linus is settling me back in my apartment. No lights, no loud noises and I’m out for 10 days at least.  The double vision is gone but the headache is going strong. “Are you sure you’re going to be ok ?” Linus asks for the tenth time.  

“Dude, the alarms are set for every two hours. I take my pain meds with the next alarm.  I have five different water bottles here. There is only one of you now, so I think I’m ok.” I give him a smile. “Thank you for taking care of me.”  

“You had me scared, Jer. But I’m glad it was just your brain.” I chuckled and shoo him away. I lay back as the silence takes over. I was lucky, it could have been worse.  As I start to allow the darkness of sleep to take over, I hear someone opening the door.  

“Linus, I’m fine,” I call out.  Fuck, too loud. I close my eyes, hoping that if he sees me sleeping he’ll go away.  

“You guys still cuddling,” a voice asks and I smile.  

“Worried about me?”  

Stella crawls into bed and sits against the headboard. I put my head in her lap, and she started to run her fingers through my hair. “You scared me, babe.”  

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I grab her palm and kiss it. “I didn’t mean too.”  

“I know.” She keeps her fingers moving.  “Craig got tossed.  Looks like a suspension.”  

“I don’t care,” I say sleepily.  

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be right here.”  

I’m bored.  

So bored.  

The team, including Stella are on a road trip.  Since day ten is at the end of the trip, I’m alone. Only Linus’s wife comes by to drop off food and make sure I’m not dead.   

I’m watching some television now that my head no longer feels like it wants to fall off. I just want to get to the end of this recovery.  I have three more days. I find a marathon of some talk show when my cell phone rings.  I check and am surprised at the caller.” Leia?” 

“Jeremy, please tell me you’re at home and you can drive?” 

I furrow my brow. “Oh yeah.”  

“Oh good. Because I’m home alone and my water just broke.”  

The fuck did she say? 

“Your water broke?” 

“Yeah, I think I’m in labor and I’m five weeks early.” I can hear the heavy breathing through the phone. “Please help me.”  

I stood up and ran for my keys. “I’m on the way.”  

This was not on my bingo card this year.  

I jump in my car and race to Andy and Leia’s.  I knock but the door opens.  “Leia?” 

“In here,” she calls from upstairs.  The woman is in labor and she’s upstairs.  Can’t be easy right? 

I take two stairs at a time and see Leia bent over the bed and breathing hard. I come up behind her and rub her back.  “Breathe, Leia.”  After a moment, she tries to stand. “Are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” she huffs. “That was the longest one so far.” She looks at me and I can see the pain in her eyes and the sweat on her brow. “I need to get to the hospital, and I can’t get a hold of Andy or Stella or my brother.” I can see she wants to cry.  

“Ok, I’ll call coach or the GM and get a hold of them. Let’s get you down the stairs and to the car, ok?” She nods before pointing to a bag on the floor.  

“I need that.”  

“I got it.” Then I take her hands and help her down.  Right in the middle, she gets hit with another contraction and withers.  I take hold of her as she grips my shirt. “It hurts,” she cries.  

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. Just breathe it out, ok? In one, two three four, out two, three, four.”  The contraction passes and I get her into the car.  I use the bluetooth and call Coach.  

“Swayman, I’m kinda...” 

“Andy’s girl is in labor. Leia is in labor and I’m taking her to Boston General.” 

“Holy... ok hang on. Barber, Andrews!” I can hear Coach skate towards them.  “Get your shit together and get to the airport.  Leia is in labor.”   

“But she’s early,” I hear Andy say.  

“Just go,” Coach orders. “Jeremy is driving her there.”  I don’t hear anything from the guys.  “Sway, keep us updated.” 

“Will do Coach.”  I hung up and looked at Leia. “You ok?”  

“I’m fine just uncomfortable. Jeremy, please don’t leave me.”  

I take her hand. “I’m right here, every step of the way.” 

I raced to the emergency room and get Leia out of the car.  As we walk, she grasps my hand. “Holy Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as she squeezes the hell out of my hand.  

“I’m sorry,” I hear her squeak.  

“No, Leia, it’s fine. See, if I keep my hand in this shape, maybe it will help me catch better.” I don’t want to tell her I think my hand is broken.  

Once she’s settled in her room, I take a seat by her and take her hand. “Right here, ok?” She nods just as another one hits. Most of her strength is going into her other hand, clutching the hand railing. “Breathe, Leia.” I mimic what I’ve seen on television shows, and she copies me. It passes and she lies back.  

“Jeremy, I never told you that I forgive you.” She looks at me with shiny eyes. “I lied and that hurt you and you hurt me. Stella said she talked to you during lifting sessions, and she said that you regretted hurting me.” ��

I swallow. “Every day, Leia. I am still so sorry for hurting you the way I did.”  

“I know,” she says.  She cups my cheek. “Thank you for being here with me. I feel like I can count you as one of my best friends. Is that ok?” 

I smile. “Yeah, that’s ok.” I see another contraction build and she closes her eyes. “It’s ok, breathe in and out. You got this.  One of the strongest woman I know,” I tell her.  

It's a few hours later and I’m sitting with Luke in the waiting room.  Leia had to have an emergency c-section. That was one of the scariest things I’ve ever witnessed.  But after she delivered, they kicked me out so they could finish.  That’s where I found Luke.  We sat in silence.  

“Thank you,” he finally said. “Thank you for taking care of her.”  

“Of course, man.”  Then the doors swung open, and Andy walked out holding a little pink bundle.  “Guys, meet my daughter,” he said with teary pride.  

Luke took the bundle and cooed at his niece. I peeked over his shoulder. “She’s beautiful Andy. Congratulations.”  

“Thanks Jer. Fuck, thanks for being here with her.” He shook my hand before he pulled me into a hug. “I was calm because I knew she was in good hands.”  He wipes the tears from his eyes.  “Wanna hold her, Uncle Jeremy?” 

I take the little miracle in my arms. She’s got her mama’s hair and looks like Leia. I can’t help but smile and kiss her forehead.  

“Welcome to the world, Avery Nora Barber.”  

NEXT

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[hookedsworks]

HOOKEDHOBBIES KINKTOBER 2024

Day 5: Rough Sex // Anal Beads // Bondage

Word count 981 (how?!)

Masterpost

TW/CW: trans girlfriend is back (from day 1), anal beads, lots of lube, uhhh. that's it, i guess. reader is completely gn, only described as being in stompy boots and leather pants.

She had asked you to meet her in the bedroom. She insinuated she had gotten something new she wanted to try out. Since she had come out, there had been an unlocking of sorts, a flood of adventure and excitement for her, now that you were calling her by her name. Her proper pronouns. She achieved so much in such a short time with you. It was really amazing, and a lot of fun, and it had unlocked a sweet little whore within her. You actually couldn't wait to see what she'd discovered and bought this time. She had asked that you wear your stompiest boots for her and your leather pants. So, you had. Anything for her. When you turned the corner, your jaw dropped. There she stood, in lace lingerie. Her bra was ill fitting, bright red and her panties were too tight, with her cock popping out of the top of them. But she was flushed already, panting and hard just waiting for you to look. She was excruciatingly adorable. She rocked back on her heels and bit her lip. 

“What do you think?!” She burst out after you stared for thirty seconds, unblinking. You rocketed forward, scooped her up and spun her around. 

“You're adorable. Bend over,” you put her back down and pushed her toward the bed. Your new toy had come in just last night, and you were ecstatic to use it on her. “I have a new toy. Do you want to see it?” 

“Yes, I want to see it, of course! What is it?” 

“Well, before we can use it, I have to ask. Have you been wearing your plug today, like you said you would be?” she turned pink. 

“Yes, I have, even though it makes me feel weird to just… have something in there, without being with you,” 

“That’s alright. You need to be relaxed and sort of stretched or prepared for this toy,” 

“Ooo, did you get me beads?” your face fell. She’d nailed it. You had hoped you had been sneaky enough with just saying ‘prepared’ but apparently not. 

“Clever girl,” you grinned at her, hoping she hadn’t seen your face fall. 

“Oh my, beads? Really? Oh, just let me take my panties off,” she nearly jumped out of them. It was then that you saw she was still wearing the plug. 

“Good girl, still wearing that, that’s good,” you walked over to where the beads were stored, as well as two fresh bottles of lube. You weren’t sure exactly how much you were going to need, but you knew it would be more than you anticipated using. She laid face down on your bed, presenting herself for you. She giggled. “Excited?” 

“Yeah, I can’t wait to feel it, I’ve heard it’s so good once you get them in,” 

She laid on the bed, clenching in anticipation. She was so excited, she knew that beads would feel amazing, especially with you, her lover, pushing them in and out of her. You showed her the beads, and she clenched hard around her plug. She couldn’t wait. She heard you put lube on your hand, but you didn’t warm it up for her. She hissed at the chill. You worked the cold lube around the plug she’d been wearing all day and began to ease it out of her. The movement against her was intoxicating. Sparks of pleasure jolted up her spine as the plug rubbed against her prostate. She moaned. 

“Feel good, pretty girl?” she breathed out an ‘uh huh’ with the biggest sweetest sigh you’d ever heard. The plug slid all the way out, and you immediately put more cold lube down. She didn’t like the chill, but she knew that was your way of reminding her that you’re the one in charge. You notched the long string of silicon beads at her pretty hole. She’d waxed recently, you could appreciate that. The first, the smallest of the beads, slid in easily. Her body opened, welcoming it and it made her sensitive skin tingle. She loved this, and it was just the first one. The second one was almost as easy, but then the third one caught a bit. You didn’t shove. Leaning over, you whispered to her. “Come on, baby. Open up, just for me, yeah? You know you want to,” she keened at that, and you twisted the beads so they rubbed down on her prostate again. But, you also supplied more lube. No tearing for your precious girlfriend. Then you were able to feed the third and fourth beads into her body. A deep, throbbing, burning pleasure began to spread throughout her body. The actual toy wasn’t burning, but her blood was. It was slow, and achy and everything she had hoped the beads would be. The fifth and final bead pushed in, fullness overtaking her. Then, for some reason, you put more lube down. The glide would be effortless. 

It took her just a moment to understand. 

You began to fuck her with the beads. Running the toy in and out of her body, lovingly battering the hell out of her prostate, making her head spin. The obnoxious amount of lube had actually been perfect, and she regretted doubting you. You knew what you were doing, maneuvering them in and out of her with a precision that was causing an orgasm to build in her gut. 

“It’s so..,” 

“So what?” you knew, though. You were watching her ass flex, her spine tense, her thighs grow corded with tension. “You gonna make a mess on the sheets?” you nearly heard her grit her teeth. She denied it, but that only made you work faster. She was tensing up more, nervous and excited. The pleasure built in her body, increasing the pressure until she couldn’t help it. Her cock jumped and throbbed as she defiled the sheets.